Netherfield the very next morning. Then he recollected that he had made arrangements to see his cousins in Brook Street again the next day.
In any case, his agitation of mind was such that it might be more prudent to keep to his original arrangements, and delay his departure.
So Darcy contented himself with sending a note to Bingley, congratulating him on the happy news, and advising that he would be returning to Hertfordshire himself at the end of the week.
The next two days seemed to pass very slowly and, though Darcy reviewed the conversation with his aunt to himself, both by day and during each night, he was no nearer any certainty in knowing what Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s true feelings might be.
However, he did resolve that he could not bear much more delay in finding out, and decided that he would accompany Bingley on his first visit to Longbourn once he had reached Hertfordshire.
“Darcy! I am the luckiest of men, and my dear Jane and I have been waiting to share our joy with you!” said his friend when Darcy entered Netherfield.
“I can see,” said Darcy, “that you are as happy as I had expected! And are you now a welcome member of the Bennet family?”
“I have been at Longbourn every day since I wrote to you. Their kindness is overwhelming, and Mr. Bennet is being everything affable,” said Bingley. “Mrs. Bennet seeks to meet my every need, and my dear Jane’s sisters are all attention, especially Elizabeth, as I wrote to you.”
“But you will not guess who has been a recent visitor to Longbourn,” his friend went on.
Bingley then related the intelligence already known to Darcy, which reminded him of an encounter only a few days ago in town.
“Your aunt Lady Catherine! Apparently she came to see Elizabeth, for they went off into the copse and had a long conversation together. Jane and I did not know who the visitor was, or I would have greeted her myself, and so we went to talk without interruption in the shrubbery. My new sister must be a great favourite of your aunt’s from her visit to Rosings at Easter, to be so favoured!”
It was impossible to compose any answer to this that could be conveyed to Bingley or that Darcy was prepared to reveal. Indeed, his friend’s comment was so far from the truth that Darcy decided to change the subject immediately.
“So you and Miss Bennet are to be married before the end of the year?”
“Yes,” replied Bingley, “and we shall live at Netherfield, at least to begin with.”
Darcy reflected to himself that such an immediate proximity to Mrs. Bennet would not be his own preference, but then his friend was of a less demanding and much more forgiving disposition than himself.
Bingley then went on to enumerate all the many qualities in the eldest Miss Bennet of which he always had been convinced, and of all his expectations of enduring felicity.
Darcy listened to this recital with more patience than he might have found in the past. There was pain indeed in hearing of happiness that he might be unable ever to replicate for himself. But the occasional mention of Miss Elizabeth in his friend’s words was of some small comfort to him in his own present uneasiness of mind.
Darcy was about to ask whether the arrangements for the following day included both the elder Miss Bennets when his friend pre-empted him.
“I am going to Longbourn again tomorrow to see Jane. You must join me, and perhaps we can take a walk with some of her sisters into the countryside round about, if it proves to be a nice day. I know that Elizabeth enjoys the countryside. Indeed, she had told me that she had great pleasure when she was in Kent in walking through the park at Rosings.”
This reminder of his most recent visit to Kent brought back so many unhappy memories for Darcy that he thought that they must be visible on his face.
But Bingley continued to talk about his pleasure in his new situation until it was time to retire, and did not appear to notice Darcy’s distress.
33
After greeting her family the following morning, it was agreed that Bingley and Jane Bennet, and Darcy with the Misses Elizabeth and Catherine Bennet, should take a walk together. To begin with, they went towards the Lucases, be-cause Kitty wished to call upon Maria. With Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennet walking very slowly and lagging behind, Darcy and her sister Elizabeth continued on together. To start with, both were silent.
Darcy was contemplating the best way to start the subject he wished to address when she began to speak:
“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours.”
Darcy glanced at her in surprise.
Could it be that she had in mind his aunt’s recent visit, notable, if the account he had heard was accurate, for Lady Catherine using language that would have given offence to any one? His aunt’s remarks had hardly been calculated to improve his companion’s opinion of his family.
But she continued, “I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”
Darcy, who had thought that his actions were a secret known only to her uncle and aunt, and to Mr. and Mrs. Wickham, was taken unawares.
“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” he replied, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness.”
He added, more cautiously, “I did not think Mrs. Gar-diner was so little to be trusted.”
Her quick reply soon gave him comfort at least as to that.
“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars.”
After a few moments, she continued, more slowly.
“Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble... and bear so many mortifications . . . for the sake of discovering them.”
Darcy immediately recollected the last time they had spoken privately together at Lambton, and the distress that she had confided to him, in the knowledge that he would not betray it. He recalled his decision then to pursue the fugitives, no matter what it cost him, so that she could regain that peace of mind which he believed that only he had the power to restore.
“If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone.”
“That the wish of giving happiness to you, might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny.”
He chose his next words with care, remembering part of another conversation which they had had at the parsonage at Hunsford in the Spring.
“But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe, I thought only of you.”
