Pride and Prejudice

In the dining-room they were joined by Mary and Kitty. Kitty, who had incurred anger by concealing the attachment, was more fretful; Mary, mistress of herself, whispered that this was a most unfortunate affair, that loss of virtue in a female was irretrievable, that one false step involved her in endless ruin, that they must stem the tide of malice and pour into the wounded bosoms of each other the balm of sisterly consolation. Elizabeth lifted her eyes in amazement but was too oppressed to reply.

In the afternoon the two elder Miss Bennets were alone for half an hour. Colonel Forster, Jane said, had owned he had often suspected some partiality, especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give alarm. His behaviour was attentive and kind. He had come to Longbourn to assure them of his concern before he had any idea of their not being gone to Scotland. Denny, when questioned, had denied knowing anything of their plan.

Lydia’s note to Mrs. Forster was produced: a curious mixture of laughter and frivolity. She was going to Gretna Green, and if Harriet could not guess with who, she must think her a simpleton, for there was but one man in the world she loved, and he was an angel. She should sign her name Lydia Wickham, and what a good joke it would be. She could hardly write for laughing.

“Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth, “but at least it shows that she was serious in the object of her journey. Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a scheme of infamy.”

Their father, Jane said, had been so shocked he could not speak for ten minutes, their mother taken ill immediately, the whole house in confusion. Their aunt Philips had come on Tuesday and stayed till Thursday; Lady Lucas had walked over on Wednesday to condole. Elizabeth, in no mood for neighbours, observed that Lady Lucas had better have stayed at home, that assistance was impossible and condolence insufferable.

Their father had meant to go to Epsom, see the postilions, and make out the number of the hackney coach from Clapham. He meant to inquire at Clapham, and if he could discover the house where the coachman had set down his fare, he hoped it might not be impossible to find the stand and number.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

The whole party hoped for a letter from Mr. Bennet the next morning, but the post came in without a single line. Mr. Gardiner waited only for the letters before setting off, and their uncle promised to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn as soon as he could, to the great consolation of his sister, who considered it the only security for her husband’s not being killed in a duel.

Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain a few days longer. Mrs. Philips also visited frequently, with the design, as she said, of cheering them up, though, as she never came without reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity, she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited. All Meryton strove to blacken the man who, three months before, had been almost an angel of light. Elizabeth, though she did not credit half of what was said, believed enough to make her sister’s ruin still more certain; even Jane became almost hopeless, especially as the time was now come when, if they had gone to Scotland, they must in all probability have gained news of them.

Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday. On Tuesday, Mrs. Gardiner received a letter: he had found his brother and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street. Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham without information, and was now determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town. Mr. Gardiner did not expect success but meant to assist his eager brother. He had written to Colonel Forster to find out whether Wickham had any relations who would be likely to know in what part of town he had concealed himself; perhaps Lizzy could tell them better than any other person. Elizabeth was at no loss to understand the deference, but she had nothing of the sort to give, having never heard of his having any relations except a father and mother, both dead many years.

Before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for their father from Mr. Collins, which Jane, directed to open all that came in his absence, read aloud. It was exactly what might be expected. Mr. Collins condoled on the grievous affliction; the death of his daughter would have been a blessing in comparison. As Charlotte informed him, this licentiousness had proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence, though he inclined to think her own disposition naturally bad. Lady Catherine and her daughter agreed that this false step would be injurious to the fortunes of all the others. This led him to reflect with augmented satisfaction on a certain event of last November; had it been otherwise, he must have been involved in all the sorrow and disgrace. He advised his cousin to console himself, throw off his unworthy child for ever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offence.

Mr. Gardiner did not write again till he had received an answer from Colonel Forster; then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send. It was not known that Wickham had a single relation with whom he kept up any connection, and he had no near one living. His former acquaintance had been numerous, but since the militia he did not appear on terms of particular friendship with any. There was no one, therefore, who could give news of him. In the wretched state of his finances there was a powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations, for it had just transpired that he had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount. Colonel Forster believed more than a thousand pounds would be necessary to clear his Brighton expenses. He owed a good deal in the town, but his debts of honour were still more formidable.

Mr. Gardiner added that they might expect their father home on Saturday. Rendered spiritless by ill success, he had yielded to his brother-in-law’s entreaty to return to his family and leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest. When Mrs. Bennet was told, she did not express so much satisfaction as her children expected. “What! is he coming home, and without poor Lydia? Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away?”