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Of Mr. Darcy, it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; for, as far as their acquaintance reached in Pemberley and at Lambton, there was no fault to find in his manners at all. He was all politeness and from the accounts given by his own servant, he could not be said to be any other than a good master. Elizabeth and her uncle and aunt, in their visit to the market town of Lambton, heard much said about him- of the good he did with the poor, of his liberality and that he was held in high esteem by all. Of Wickham, however, was another story entirely from Elizabeth’s impression of him before Darcy’s letter. There were many abuses hurled at his character by the market people for they claim he still owed them a massive amount of debts which only Mr. Darcy’s kindness discharged when he quitted town.
Elizabeth now reckoned that she had judged him excessively ill and could find no penitence for her wrong doing. Now, she respected him more than she did any man in her acquaintance, outside of her father and uncle. She could also see that unlike her, he was not one to hold on to a grudge, despite his claims at Netherfield to do so. He still held her in good esteem, still to be amiable to her relations and deem her worthy of an introduction to his sister. She, who had declared war against him, was the recipient of words of peace from him. Her own flaws were evident to her unreserved observation as were his own dignity to her.
Though it be presumptuous to fancy that his amorous feelings for her remained, but she could not help the hope regained in her heart- for she feared herself inclining towards the same emotion for him. However, she bid herself the virtue of patience, lest she spoil any chance of it with impatience.
So were her thoughts in the evening of the next day when Mrs. Gardiner joined her.
“I am of the opinion that such a striking civility as Miss Darcy's, in coming to see us on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley ought to be imitated,” she told her niece, unaware of the thoughts in her head. “I think it highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning.”
Elizabeth was pleased with this thought and was eager for the visitation; but only murmured something in reply; her aunt and uncle were regarding her with enough suspicion since they met Darcy in Pemberley and she had no intention of misleading them in any way. Mrs. Gardiner, on her part, needed no further acceptance for she immediately sent word of their intent through a servant to Pemberley.
****
The fishing expedition was more pleasant than Darcy anticipated. The pleasure, he could attribute to Mr. Gardiner’s delightful company and his unending stories of good trout he had caught in different places. The other gentlemen, inclusive of Mr. Bingley and even Mr. Hurst, were enraptured by him and thereby engaged him without reserve to make the expedition perfectly enjoyable for such a warm morning. However, when Mr. Gardiner mentioned that his madam and niece were to pay his sister a visit that morning and as certainly ought to be there this moment, his allure for the pleasant fishing was easily lost.
In another five minutes, he excused himself away from the rest of the gentlemen and made straight to see the ladies. Six ladies in all were seated at the table feasting on plates of meats and fruits in the saloon in the northern wing of the mansion- Georgina and her governess, Mrs. Annesley, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, Elizabeth and her aunt. There was not much of any conversation going around and to his disappointment, he observed that Elizabeth and Georgina were seated too far apart for his comfort. Since he could not as well order different seating arrangements, he sat with them and began to converse in an easy manner, taking great care to direct his talks to Elizabeth and Georgina whose shyness and distance from Elizabeth had renewed her reticence. Miss Bingley soon felt ignored for too long and made to comment much to Darcy’s ire.
“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the Militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family,” said she in a most sarcastic tone.
Though no mention of Wickham was made, Darcy felt that it could as well have as he glanced at Elizabeth and then Georgina who knew that Wickham was in the militia in Hertfordshire. The girl was even now looking like she would prefer invisibility to anything at the moment; so great was her shame still of her elopement with the scoundrel even though it was years gone. Darcy felt like he could gladly throttle the unfeeling Miss Bingley, but for the friendship between him and her brother. He knew that she asked the question only to discomfit Elizabeth but the latter was not so in the least and ignored her completely. Darcy relaxed once again, and willed Georgina to do likewise.
The visit terminated a quarter of an hour later and Darcy personally saw the ladies to their carriage. When he returned, Miss Bingley was busy with criticisms about everything concerning Elizabeth, but she was alone in this as Georgina remained inflexibly silent and staring out the window.
“How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” cried Miss Bingley when she saw him enter; “I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”
Darcy fumed in his anger at such talk, particularly of Elizabeth, but his manners and newly acquired virtues would not permit him to levy an upbraiding against Miss Bingley as he dearly wished to.
“Rather than her being tanned,” he comforted himself by replying, “I see no other alteration in Miss Bennet which I presuppose that was by no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summer.”
“For my own part,” continued she, “I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character- there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.”
Darcy’s anger was on the increase against this description of Elizabeth, but again, the knowledge that it stemmed from jealousy refrained his lips from saying a word. He went to his sister and sat by her, asking her how she perceived the company that just left. She had barely opened her mouth to reply when Caroline moved to them and continued thus:
“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘She is a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”
Darcy there and then decided that only a firm reply would do else Miss Bingley would plague him till he lost his composure.
“Yes, but that was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance,” he said, stood and left the room.
He was soon followed closely by Georgina who later brought to him the intelligence that Miss Bingley had almost burst into tears upon his reply and exit.
****
Though Elizabeth and her relations were to dine at Pemberley on this day, Darcy still found it prudent to call on them in the morning after breakfast- and he was mighty glad that he did. The servant that led him through the hall informed him that the Gardiners were out on a walk leaving only the young miss at home. No sooner had he opened the door to admit him into the parlour than they saw Elizabeth heading out in a great haste. Her pale face and impetuous manner gave him a good scare as she exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose.”
Her words alarmed him beyond measure and filled with concern for her cried, “Good God! What is the matter?” However, when he saw that she was incapable of listening to him added, “I will not detain you a minute; but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”
Elizabeth agreed to his scheme after only a slight hesitation. He quickly imputed to the servant to go call on his master and mistress with utmost alacrity to which Elizabeth repeated the same order, though less intelligibly to alert him more to her distress.
As soon as the servant left, she sat down heavily as if unable to support her own legs any longer, looking absolutely miserable. Darcy had never seen her so and began to wonder what could have happened. He however sought to comfort her first and said, “Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”
She rallied somewhat moderately at his observation and made an answer: “No, I thank you, there is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”
The confession was one that was evidently too much for her for she promptly burst into tears and said nothing else. Darcy’s misery was complete for he had no idea what to do and her tears tore at his heart in unimaginable pain. He began to utter nonsensical words of consolation that made no meaning to himself, but must offer some comfort to her because her tears gave way to a detailed explanation of the cause of her woes.
“I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger sister has left all her friends- has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to...to...she is lost forever.”
Darcy was so surprised by the revelation that he could not utter a single word, but she had more yet to say.
“When I consider that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was,” she said in extreme agitation directed at herself. “Had I but explained some part of it only- some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all too late now.”
“I am grieved indeed; shocked. But is it certain- absolutely certain?” Darcy thought to ask for he couldn’t believe that Wickham could endeavour such scheme again, so soon.
“Oh, yes!” Elizabeth said sadly. “They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.”
The mention of London brought an idea to Darcy’s mind.
“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?” he asked, thinking about his idea.
“My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance; and we shall be off, I hope, in half-an-hour. But nothing can be done- I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”
Darcy knew Wickham- if he did not want to be found, he had his way to ensure that he was not, but of this, he did not mention to the distressed lady seated before him. She began to blame herself again, for her error in judging Wickham and not telling his true character to her family when her eyes were opened by, Darcy supposed, his letter. Her admittance of believing him would have been duly basked in, but not at this hour. He stood up on his feet and began to walk back and forth the length of the room in deep thoughts. He knew what he had to do but he knew not if he should tell Elizabeth. Deciding against it, he turned to her to say:
“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”
She jumped at this words that spoke of his inclination to leave her to her thoughts and hurried to reply.
“Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologise for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long.”
“I will,” he assured her. “I can only wish and pray for a happy conclusion to this,” and with that, left the room and herself.
The distress he saw on Elizabeth’s face was his undoing and he knew what he must do even though it was disagreeable to him. As he entered into his carriage, however, he already began his scheme on what to do.