Chapter 1.9 #3
Mrs Bennet returned from Meryton one morning, shrieking for her smelling salts and demanding Lizzy tell her what she did to Mr Darcy that made him leave.
When she accused her of ruining Jane’s happiness and the whole family’s well being, Elizabeth could hardly keep her countenance in the face of such a preposterous accusation.
She resigned herself to enduring her mother’s diatribe, and when the lady finished, Elizabeth expressed a wish for a short walk.
No sooner had she left the house—fighting the cold wind and praying the frozen blow would cool the wound in her heart—than thousands of thoughts started to spin in her head, making her wonder whether her mother was right.
Perhaps something she did or said had made Mr Darcy change his opinion of her, take his unexpected leave, and convince Mr Bingley to do the same.
Unconsciously, her steps led her to the cottage, and she found herself again before the heavy, old door.
She entered and looked around, memories overwhelming her, and she sat in the same armchair as she had days before.
She sobbed uncontrollably until she had no tears left and returned only in time for dinner, completely frozen and wanting to see and talk to no one.
The person she most longed to see might never cross her path again.
∞∞∞
During that month, Mr Bennet saw the distress of his eldest daughter and the turmoil in the family caused by the departed Netherfield party and some letters sent by Miss Bingley, to which he gave not the slightest consideration.
He could easily imagine that Jane and Lizzy felt crossed in love.
The idea was highly entertaining and provided an opportunity for constant teasing, he being most amused by his second daughter’s behaviour.
He never would have imagined his witty, high-spirited favourite to act so foolishly; he joked with them several times, saying it was time for them to be heartbroken and “next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then.”
He had given little thought to the situation and never considered their suffering and distress to be serious as he found nothing alarming in Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley’s departure and delay in town.
However, that evening at dinner was too much for Mr Bennet with Lizzy’s red, swollen eyes, pale face and trembling hands and his wife’s continuous complaints about what his favourite daughter did to ruin the entire family.
“Mrs Bennet, of what are you talking?”
“Oh, about Lizzy and Mr Darcy, of course. And about Mr Bingley and Jane. They will all die old maids, and Collins and Charlotte will take our house after your death,” she yelled hysterically.
He looked austerely at his wife before speaking in a severe tone.
“Today I have the definitive proof that my dear wife at her age is akin to our youngest daughters, not only in beauty but also in spirit and sagacity! Mrs Bennet, what were you thinking to spout such nonsense and bring Lizzy to this state of distress? Have you all lost your minds since the ball?”
His angry voice made all the ladies attend to him with great surprise. Lydia could never remember her father speaking before in such a firm manner.
“My dear husband, I was just worrying about our daughters’ happiness and well-being. I never meant to offend Lizzy, but she is such a headstrong, wild girl and never listens. And all Meryton talks about—”
“Mrs Bennet, enough of this! If all Meryton speaks such nonsense, it is immensely comforting to me, for it proves there are many older people even sillier than Lydia and Kitty. Consequently, neither you nor the girls will go to Meryton again soon and certainly not without my consent. And I forbid any of you to spread gossip or speculation about Mr Bingley or Mr Darcy. What are you women thinking? Is not a man allowed to go and look after his business and return when and if he chooses without being talked of? From now on, I shall not hear a word of this, do you understand me?”
Six ladies approved silently, none daring to contradict him. With a last disapproving look, he returned to his plate and wine, exhausted but content with his decisiveness. Mr Bennet was reluctant ever to disturb his peace and tranquillity with a high tone or harsh manners towards his family.
But apparently the situation required it!
∞∞∞
The next day, Elizabeth awoke feeling unwell with a bad cold and high fever that lasted the entire week.
It was nothing especially serious but, selfishly—and uncharacteristically cowardly—Elizabeth found her illness quite convenient.
She could be alone in her room and her bed without calls or reproaches from her mother.
She had only her sorrow for company. She and Jane tried to comfort one another, and in a mutual understanding, neither gentleman’s name was mentioned between them.
One morning, as Lizzy was in bed and Jane was brushing her hair, Mr Bennet made an appearance, his countenance jovial and humorous, in one of his obviously teasing dispositions.
“Girls, I wanted to talk to you. I hope I am not interrupting you.”
“Of course not, Papa,” answered Lizzy. “Please sit down.”
He took a chair and searched their curious faces for a few moments, deeply satisfied with the anticipation of his disclosure. “I have received a letter this morning that took me quite by surprise. As it could be of some importance for you, I thought you ought to know some of its contents.”
The colour now rushed into his daughters’ cheeks, and they moved uncomfortably in anticipation, scarcely allowing themselves to presume or hope.
“You look eager, I must say. Do you have enough sagacity remaining to discover the name of its sender?” He smiled in pure enjoyment at their embarrassment, and as they chose to cast their eyes down at their hands, he put the envelope in front of them, declaring:
“By all means, do not be missish; it is easy to guess. As your fair cousin Mr Collins would have said, such elegant handwriting and superior paper could belong to none other than a nephew of the noble Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”