CHAPTER XXXVII.
The gentlemen left Rosings the next morning. Mr. Collins brought word they were in good health, then hastened to Rosings to console Lady Catherine. On his return he carried an invitation for them all to dine. Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting she might by then have been presented as her future niece; nor think, without a smile, of her Ladyship’s probable indignation.
At dinner Lady Catherine lamented the diminution of her party, declaring herself particularly attached to the young men, who were excessively sorry to go. Darcy, she thought, felt it more acutely than last year; his attachment to Rosings certainly increased. Observing Miss Bennet out of spirits, she attributed it to homesickness, urged her to write and beg to stay longer, and offered to convey one of them to London. Elizabeth held firm to her plan.
Lady Catherine’s many questions about their journey demanded attention, which Elizabeth considered fortunate, as it left no room for reflection. Reflection she reserved for solitary walks, not a day passing without one. Darcy’s letter she was coming to know by heart. Her feelings toward him fluctuated: indignation at his style gave way to anger at herself for unjust condemnation; his attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect. But she could not approve him, nor repent her refusal, nor feel the slightest wish to see him again. In her own past behaviour there was a constant source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. She had frequently united with Jane to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia, but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement? Anxiety on Jane’s behalf persisted, for Darcy’s explanation restored Bingley to all her former good opinion and heightened the sense of Jane’s loss. How grievous the thought that Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family, of a situation so desirable in every respect. The last evening at Rosings ended with Lady Catherine’s minute inquiries about packing.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast alone, and he discharged his indispensably necessary parting civilities. He trusted she would not leave without Mrs. Collins’s thanks; Elizabeth was eager with her own. He flattered himself she would carry a favourable report of them into Hertfordshire, particularly of Lady Catherine’s attentions to his wife.
The chaise arrived and was pronounced ready. After an affectionate parting, Collins handed Elizabeth in, Maria followed, and the door was about to close when he suddenly recalled they had forgotten to leave a message for the ladies of Rosings. Their journey passed without alarm; within four hours they reached Mr. Gardiner’s house. Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her spirits amid the engagements her aunt had arranged.
It cost Elizabeth an effort to wait even for Longbourn before telling Jane of Darcy’s proposals. To have the power of astonishing her and gratifying her own vanity was a strong temptation, but she remained undecided how much to communicate, fearing to be hurried into repeating something of Bingley that might grieve her sister further.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
In the second week of May the three young ladies set out from Gracechurch Street for Hertfordshire. As they neared the appointed inn they saw Kitty and Lydia looking from a dining-room window—above an hour in the place, visiting a milliner, watching the sentinel, and dressing a salad and cucumber. After welcoming their sisters, they displayed cold meat and asked to borrow money, having spent theirs at the shop.
“Are they, indeed, going in a fortnight?” cried Elizabeth at Lydia’s news that the regiment would encamp near Brighton. Lydia announced she wanted their father to take them all there for the summer. Then she added capital news: no danger of Wickham marrying Mary King, who was gone to her uncle at Liverpool; Wickham was safe. Elizabeth added that Mary King was safe from an imprudent connection, shocked to find the sentiment formerly harboured in her own breast.
Lydia, assisted by Kitty’s hints, entertained them with party histories and good jokes all the way to Longbourn; Elizabeth listened as little as she could, but Wickham’s name recurred constantly. Their reception at home was kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced over Jane’s beauty; Mr. Bennet more than once said voluntarily to Elizabeth, “I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”
Lydia pressed for a walk to Meryton; Elizabeth steadily opposed it. Another reason moved her: she dreaded seeing Wickham again and resolved to avoid it. The regiment’s approaching removal was a comfort beyond expression.
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