Chapter 24

by Jane Austen

　　Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The veryfirst sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled inLondon for the winter, and concluded with her brother's regretat not having had time to pay his respects to his friends inHertfordshire before he left the country.Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to therest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affectionof the writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy'spraise occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were againdwelt on, and Caroline boasted joyfully of their increasingintimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of thewishes which had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrotealso with great pleasure of her brother's being an inmate of Mr.Darcy's house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of thelatter with regard to new furniture.Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief ofall this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was dividedbetween concern for her sister, and resentment against all others.To Caroline's assertion of her brother's being partial to MissDarcy she paid no credit. That he was really fond of Jane, shedoubted no more than she had ever done; and much as she hadalways been disposed to like him, she could not think withoutanger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, thatwant of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of hisdesigning friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happinessto the caprice of their inclination. Had his own happiness,however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed tosport with it in whatever manner he thought best, but her sister'swas involved in it, as she thought he must be sensible himself. Itwas a subject, in short, on which reflection would be longindulged, and must be unavailing. She could think of nothingelse; and yet whether Bingley's regard had really died away, orwere suppressed by his friends' interference; whether he hadbeen aware of Jane's attachment, or whether it had escaped hisobservation; whatever were the case, though her opinion of himmust be materially affected by the difference, her sister'ssituation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of herfeelings to Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet's leaving themtogether, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfieldand its master, she could not help saying:"Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! Shecan have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continualreflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. Hewill be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before."Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, butsaid nothing."You doubt me," cried Jane, slightly colouring; "indeed, youhave no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiableman of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either tohope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! Ihave not that pain. A little time, therefore-- I shall certainlytry to get the better."With a stronger voice she soon added, "I have this comfortimmediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy onmy side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself.""My dear Jane!" exclaimed Elizabeth, "you are too good. Yoursweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not knowwhat to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, orloved you as you deserve."Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, andthrew back the praise on her sister's warm affection."Nay," said Elizabeth, "this is not fair. You wish to think allthe world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. Ionly want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it.Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of myencroaching on your privilege of universal good-will. You neednot. There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer ofwhom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am Idissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of theinconsistency of all human characters, and of the littledependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit orsense. I have met with two instances lately, one I will notmention; the other is Charlotte's marriage. It is unaccountable!In every view it is unaccountable!""My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. Theywill ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enoughfor difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins'srespectability, and Charlotte's steady, prudent character.Remember that she is one of a large family; that as to fortune, itis a most eligible match; and be ready to believe, for everybody'ssake, that she may feel something like regard and esteem for ourcousin.""To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but noone else could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were Ipersuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should onlythink worse of her understanding than I now do of her heart.My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; you know he is, as well as I do; and you mustfeel, as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannothave a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, thoughit is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of oneindividual, change the meaning of principle and integrity, norendeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness isprudence, and insensibility of danger security for happiness.""I musty think your language too strong in speaking of both,"replied Jane; "and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeingthem happy together. But enough of this. You alluded tosomething else. You mentioned two instances. I cannotmisunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain meby thinking that person to blame, and saying your opinionof him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselvesintentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man tobe always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothingbut our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admirationmeans more than it does.""And men take care that they should.""If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have noidea of there being so much design in the world as some personsimagine."I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley's conduct todesign," said Elizabeth; "but without scheming to do wrong, orto make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may bemisery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people'sfeelings, and want of resolution, will do the business.""And do you impute it to either of those?""Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by sayingwhat I think of persons you esteem Stop me whilst you can.""You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?"Yes, in conjunction with his friend.""I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him?They can only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me, noother woman can secure it.""Your first position is false. They may wish many things besideshis happiness; they may wish his increase of wealth andconsequence; they may wish him to marry a girl who has all theimportance of money, great connections, and pride.""Beyond a doubt, they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,"replied Jane; "but this may be from better feelings than you aresupposing. They have known her much longer than they haveknown me; no wonder if they love her better. But, whatevermay be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should haveopposed their brother's. What sister would think herself atliberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable?If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to partus; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such anaffection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong,and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am notashamed of having been mistaken-- or, at least, it is light, it isnothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill of himor his sisters. Let me take it in the best light, in the light inwhich it may be understood."Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr.Bingley's name was scarcely ever mentioned between them."Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returningno more, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth didnot account for it clearly, there was little chance of her everconsidering it with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured toconvince her of what she did not believe herself, that hisattentions to Jane had been merely the effect of a common andtransient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more; butthough the probability of the statement was admitted at the time,she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet's bestcomfort was that Mr. Bingley must be down again in thesummer.Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. "So, Lizzy," said heone day, "your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulateher. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little inlove now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives her asort of distinction among her companions. When is your turn tocome? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now isyour time. Here are officers enough in Meryton to disappoint allthe young ladies in the country. Let Wickham be your man. Heis a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.""Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. Wemust not all expect Jane's good fortune.""True," said Mr. Bennet, "but it is a comfort to think thatwhatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionatemother who will make the most of it."Mr. Wickham's society was of material service in dispelling thegloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on manyof the Longbourn family. They saw him often, and to his otherrecommendations was now added that of general unreserve.The whole of what Elizabeth had already heard, his claims onMr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was nowopenly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybodywas pleased to know how much they had always disliked Mr.Darcy before they had known anything of the matter.Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose theremight be any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown tothe society of Hertfordshire; her mild and steady candour alwayspleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes--but by everybody else Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst ofmen.