Darcy’s Story

attention, as well as many matters of business. In all such things, and in his sister’s company, he tried to take as much pleasure as he did normally. But at the back of his mind, there was the ballroom at Netherfield, a lady dancing gracefully, and a conversation between them.

“I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly....if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”

A few days later, a letter arrived from Scarborough. Bingley, in confirming that he planned to travel south at the beginning of the next week, inquired whether Darcy would be in town so that he might stay with him.

Darcy sent back a reply in the affirmative.

He stayed a few more days in Derbyshire, and the subject of Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not mentioned between the brother and sister again. Instead, Darcy spent most of his time with Georgiana, and he was able, at least for some of the time, to forget the possible encounters that lay ahead. On the Friday, Darcy bade farewell to his sister, gave her to Mrs. Annesley’s charge, and left for town.

Part Six

Where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation.

29

When Bingley arrived, he told Darcy that he had already sent word to open up Netherfield House ready to receive them, at least for the next few weeks, and servants were sent on ahead to prepare for the shooting party. By the Wednesday, the two friends were ready to leave town for the journey to Hertfordshire.

As they reached the outskirts of Meryton, Darcy’s thoughts were full of the last time he had been there. The chaise passed the assembly rooms where he had disdained to dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, past the place in the main street where he had encountered her walking with Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham. It seemed so long ago, and as though a different person from himself had been there.

Bingley had been quieter than usual on the journey. However, the now familiar landmarks led him to remark on local acquaintances.

Darcy decided that this was the time to broach the possibility of a visit to Longbourn after they had settled in.

“I know that you may wish to shoot as soon as may be. But I would suppose,” he said, more casually than was his wont, “that we might encounter the Misses Bennet during our stay here? I have heard that the youngest is now married, to an officer, but her elder sisters may be at home.”

“That,” said his friend quickly, “would be a capital idea. I have arranged for shooting for the next two days, but perhaps after that...”

At dinner, Bingley called back memories of the ball at Netherfield the previous November. By comparison, the house seemed to Darcy to be very empty, although he was far from regretting the absence of Mrs. Hurst and her sister. He was, however, anxious about the reception they might receive at Longbourn, in particular because Miss Elizabeth was aware of his part in separating her sister Jane from Bingley. Whatever her relief at the outcome of her youngest sister’s elopement, and her recent knowledge of Wickham’s character and behaviour, that might remain between them.

However, his heart would not allow him to forego a visit to the Bennets’ house. So, on the third morning after their arrival in Hertfordshire, Bingley and Darcy rode out from Netherfield.

On entering the house at Longbourn, they were met with that unfortunate combination of excessive politeness and vulgarity which Darcy had always found so distasteful in Mrs. Bennet. They found the four eldest daughters together at their work. As he entered the room, Darcy glanced quickly at Miss Elizabeth, who did not seem to lift up her eyes.

Bingley, Darcy noticed, looked both pleased and embarrassed. However, he soon took the chance to make some little conversation with Miss Jane Bennet, who received them both with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour free from any symptom of resentment.

Darcy was aware that, whilst Bingley had been received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility, this contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address to himself.

In the face of this, Darcy, after enquiring of Miss Elizabeth how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were, said scarcely anything, and Miss Elizabeth was very silent, saying as little to either Darcy or Bingley as civility would allow. But Darcy knew her well enough to observe that she was attending to her work with an eagerness that it did not often command.

As far as he could tell, she had ventured only one glance at himself. He was not seated by her, and so looked around the room. He had often imagined what Longbourn might be like. As he had surmised, it was modestly furnished, but was pleasing by contrast with the grandest and most formal houses he knew, such as Rosings.

As the conversation flowed on, he concentrated on looking more at the eldest sister than at Elizabeth, to see if he could gauge what Miss Bennet’s reaction to seeing his friend Bingley again could be.

With her mother so close, he in any case had little opportunity to speak to the daughter with whom he wished most to converse. There could be no possibility in this room of that happy ease they had begun to establish together in Derbyshire, or even the comparative freedom at Rosings when out of the hearing of Lady Catherine. Miss Elizabeth did enquire after Georgiana, but said no more.

“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People say, you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled.”

She paused briefly for breath, and Darcy took a quick look at the second daughter, at this reference to her friend. He thought that Miss Elizabeth glanced at him at this reminder of the parsonage at Hunsford, but he was not certain. Meanwhile Mrs. Bennet continued unabated.

“And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the Times and the Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”

Bingley replied to Mrs. Bennet that he was aware of the marriage, and made his congratulations.

Darcy reflected with some satisfaction that the mother of the bride should be singularly ill-informed about the matter if her brother had kept his promise. He did, however, look keenly at her second daughter again at this mention of Wickham, and fancied that she met his glance for a moment, before her eyes dropped again to her needlework.

“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” continued the mother, “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the ___shire, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he has some friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves.” And, saying this, she looked pointedly at Darcy.

He noticed that neither of the two elder daughters were looking very comfortable at this mention of their new brother. Mrs. Bennet’s outburst drew from Miss Elizabeth a question to Bingley, whether he meant to make any stay in the country at present.

“A few weeks, he believed.”

But the mother was not to be gainsaid.