Amelia did not fail to make proper compliments to Mrs. Bennet on the conclusion of her speech in the last chapter. She told her that, from the first moment of her acquaintance, she had the strongest inclination to her friendship, and that her desires of that kind were much increased by hearing her story. 'Indeed, madam,' says she, 'you are much too severe a judge on yourself; for they must have very little candour, in my opinion, who look upon your case with any severe eye. To me, I assure you, you appear highly the object of compassion; and I shall always esteem you as an innocent and an unfortunate woman.'
Amelia would then have taken her leave, but Mrs. Bennet so strongly pressed her to stay to breakfast, that at length she complied; indeed, she had fasted so long, and her gentle spirits had been so agitated with variety of passions, that nature very strongly seconded Mrs. Bennet's motion.
Whilst the maid was preparing the tea-equipage, Amelia, with a little slyness in her countenance, asked Mrs. Bennet if serjeant Atkinson did not lodge in the same house with her? The other reddened so extremely at the question, repeated the serjeant's name with such hesitation, and behaved so aukwardly, that Amelia wanted no further confirmation of her suspicions. She would not, however, declare them abruptly to the other, but began a dissertation on the serjeant's virtues; and, after observing the great concern which he had manifested when Mrs. Bennet was in her fit, concluded with saying she believed the serjeant would make the best husband in the world, for that he had great tenderness of heart and a gentleness of manners not often to be found in any man, and much seldomer in persons of his rank.
'And why not in his rank?' said Mrs. Bennet. 'Indeed, Mrs. Booth, we rob the lower order of mankind of their due. I do not deny the force and power of education; but, when we consider how very injudicious is the education of the better sort in general, how little they are instructed in the practice of virtue, we shall not expect to find the heart much improved by it. And even as to the head, how very slightly do we commonly find it improved by what is called a genteel education! I have myself, I think, seen instances of as great goodness, and as great understanding too, among the lower sort of people as among the higher. Let us compare your serjeant, now, with the lord who hath been the subject of conversation; on which side would an impartial judge decide the balance to incline?'
'How monstrous then,' cries Amelia, 'is the opinion of those who consider our matching ourselves the least below us in degree as a kind of contamination!'
'A most absurd and preposterous sentiment,' answered Mrs. Bennet warmly; 'how abhorrent from justice, from common sense, and from humanity--but how extremely incongruous with a religion which professes to know no difference of degree, but ranks all mankind on the footing of brethren! Of all kinds of pride, there is none so unchristian as that of station; in reality, there is none so contemptible. Contempt, indeed, may be said to be its own object; for my own part, I know none so despicable as those who despise others.'
'I do assure you,' said Amelia, 'you speak my own sentiments. I give you my word, I should not be ashamed of being the wife of an honest man in any station.--Nor if I had been much higher than I was, should I have thought myself degraded by calling our honest serjeant my husband.'
'Since you have made this declaration,' cries Mrs. Bennet, 'I am sure you will not be offended at a secret I am going to mention to you.'
'Indeed, my dear,' answered Amelia, smiling, 'I wonder rather you have concealed it so long; especially after the many hints I have given you.'
'Nay, pardon me, madam,' replied the other; 'I do not remember any such hints; and, perhaps, you do not even guess what I am going to say. My secret is this; that no woman ever had so sincere, so passionate a lover, as you have had in the serjeant.'
'I a lover in the serjeant!--I!' cries Amelia, a little surprized.
'Have patience,' answered the other;--'I say, you, my dear. As much surprized as you appear, I tell you no more than the truth; and yet it is a truth you could hardly expect to hear from me, especially with so much good-humour; since I will honestly confess to you.--But what need have I to confess what I know you guess already?--Tell me now sincerely, don't you guess?'
'I guess, indeed, and hope,' said she, 'that he is your husband.'
