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Before this period of his life, Mr. Bennet had very often wished he had laid by an annual sum instead of spending his whole income. Money for the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived him. He now wished it more than ever.
Had he done his duty in that respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever of honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to be her husband might then have rested in its proper place.
He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law. He was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance, and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could.
When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be useless, for, of course, they were to have a son. The son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age. The widow and younger children would by that means be provided for.
Five daughters successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late for saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy, and her husband's love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their income.
Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with regard to Lydia, at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him.
In terms of grateful acknowledgement for the kindness of his brother, Mr Bennet committed to paper his explicit approval and his willingness to fulfil the engagements.
He had never before supposed that Wickham could be prevailed on to marry his daughter. It would be done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser by the hundred that was to be paid them. With her board and pocket allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her through her mother's hands, Lydia's expenses had been almost that sum.
That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was another very welcome surprise. His wish at present was to have as little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he naturally returned to all his former indolence.
His letter was soon dispatched. Though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick in its execution. He begged to know further details of his debt to his brother but was too angry with Lydia to send any message to her.
The good news spread quickly through the house, and with proportionate speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent philosophy.
To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of conversation had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town. Or, as the happiest alternative, been secluded from the world, in some distant farmhouse. But there was much to be talked of in marrying her.
The good-natured wishes for her well-doing which had proceeded before from all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton lost but a little of their spirit in this change of circumstances. With such a husband her misery was considered certain.
It was two weeks since Mrs. Bennet had been downstairs. On this happy day, she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame dampened her triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object of her wishes, was now on the point of accomplishment. Her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a proper home for her daughter. Without knowing or considering what their income might be, she rejected many as deficient in size and importance.
"Haye Park might do if the Gouldings could quit it. Or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Pulvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."
Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the servants remained. When they had withdrawn, he said, "Mrs. Bennet, before you take any or all of these houses, let us come to a right understanding. Into one house in this neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the impudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn."
A long dispute followed this declaration, but Mr. Bennet remained firm. It soon led to another. Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror, that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable resentment exceeded all she could believe possible. To refuse his daughter a privilege without which her marriage would scarcely seem valid.
Mrs. Bennet was more alive to the disgrace which her want of new clothes must reflect on her daughter's nuptials, than to any sense of shame at her eloping and living with Wickham weeks before the wedding.
Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for her sister. Her marriage would so shortly give the proper termination to the elopement. The Bennet family might hope to conceal its unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the spot.
She had no fear of its spreading farther through his means. There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended. And there was no one whose knowledge of a sister's frailty would have mortified her so much. Not from any fear of disadvantage from it individually to herself, for there seemed a gulf impassable between them.
Even had Lydia entered marriage on the most honourable terms, Mr. Darcy would surely not connect himself with a family allied with Wickham. There would now be added to every other objection, an alliance and relationship of the nearest kind with a man whom he so justly scorned.
From such a connection she could not wonder that he would shrink. The wish of procuring her regard could not in rational expectation survive such a blow as this.
She was humbled, she was grieved. She repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem when she could no longer hope to benefit by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet.
He was as generous, as the most generous of his sex; but while he was mortal, there must be a triumph.
What a triumph for him! Could he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago, would now have been most gladly and gratefully received?
She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes.
It was a union that must have been to the advantage of both. By her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved. From his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance. No such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what a happy marriage was.
A union of a different tendency, and precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their family.
How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence, she could not imagine. How little permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue?
Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet's acknowledgements, he replied, with assurance of his eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his family. And concluded with entreaties that the subject might never be mentioned to him again. The principal purport of his letter was to inform them that Mr. Wickham had resolved on quitting the militia.
"It was greatly my wish that he should do so as soon as his marriage was fixed on," he added. "I think you will agree with me, in considering the removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his account and my niece's. It is Mr. Wickham's intention to go into the regulars. Among his former friends, there are still some who are able and willing to assist him in the army. I have written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements. And to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham in and near Brighton, with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin a list according to his information? He has given in all his debts. I hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions, and all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment unless they are first invited to Longbourn. I understand from Mrs. Gardiner, that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she leaves the South. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to you and your mother.—Yours, etc.,
"E. GARDINER."
At first, Mr. Bennet was resolved against ever receiving Lydia into the house again.
Jane and Elizabeth urged him so earnestly yet so rationally, to receive her and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married. He was prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished.
Mrs. Bennet had the satisfaction of knowing that she would be able to show her married daughter in the neighbourhood before the banishment to the North.
When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, he sent his permission for them to come. It was settled, that as soon as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn.
That Wickham should consent to such a scheme surprised Elizabeth. Had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him would have been the last object of her wishes.