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Chapter 42
Had Elizabeth's
opinion been all drawn from her
own family, she could not have formed a very pleasing opinion of
conjugal
felicity or domestic comfort. Her
father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good
humour
which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak
understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their marriage put
an end
to all real affection for her. Respect,
esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of
domestic
happiness were overthrown. But
Mr.
Bennet was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment
which
his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too
often
console the unfortunate for their folly of their vice.
He was fond of the country and of books; and
from these tastes had arisen his principal enjoyments.
To his wife he was very little otherwise
indebted, than as her ignorance and
folly had contributed to his amusement.
This is not the sort of happiness which a man would
in general wish to
owe to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting,
the true
philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.
Elizabeth, however,
had never been blind to the impropriety of her father's behaviour as a
husband. She had
always seen it with
pain; but respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate
treatment
of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and
to
banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation
and
decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own
children, was so
highly reprehensible. But
she had never
felt so strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the
children of so
unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils
arising from
so ill-judged a direction of talents; talents, which, rightly used,
might at
least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even if
incapable of
enlarging the mind of his wife.
When Elizabeth
had rejoiced over Wickham's
departure she found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of
the
regiment. Their
parties abroad were less
varied than before, and at home she had a mother and sister whose
constant
repinings at the dullness of everything around them threw a real gloom
over
their domestic circle; and, though Kitty might in time regain her
natural
degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were removed, her
other
sister, from whose disposition greater evil might be apprehended, was
likely to
be hardened in all her folly and assurance by a situation of such
double danger
as a watering-place and a camp. Upon
the
whole, therefore, she found, what has been sometimes been found before,
that an
event to which she had been looking with impatient desire did not, in
taking
place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently
necessary to name some
other period for the commencement of actual felicity-- to have some
other point
on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by again enjoying the
pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present, and prepare
for
another disappointment. Her
tour to the Lakes was now the object of her
happiest thoughts; it was her best
consolation
for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her
mother and
Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the scheme,
every
part of it would have been perfect.
"But it is fortunate,"
thought
she, "that I have something to wish for.
Were the whole arrangement complete, my
disappointment would be
certain. But here,
by carrying with me
one ceaseless source of regret in my sister's absence, I may reasonably
hope to
have all my expectations of pleasure realised.
A scheme of which every part promises delight can
never be successful;
and general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of some
little
peculiar vexation."
When Lydia
went away she promised to
write very often and very minutely to her mother and Kitty; but her
letters
were always long expected, and always very short.
Those to her mother contained little else
than that they were just returned from the library, where such and such
officers had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made her
quite wild; that she
had a new gown, or a new parasol, which she would have described more
fully,
but was obliged to leave off in a violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called
her,
and they were going off to the camp; and from her correspondence with
her
sister, there was
still less to be
learnt-- for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much too
full of
lines under the words to be made public.
After the first
fortnight or three weeks
of her absence, health, good humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear
at
Longbourn. Everything wore a happier aspect.
The families who had been in town for the winter
came back again, and
summer finery and summer engagements arose.
Mrs. Bennet was restored to her usual querulous
serenity; and, by the
middle of June, Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter
Meryton
without tears; an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope
that by
the following Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable as not to
mention
an officer above once a day, unless, by some cruel and malicious
arrangement at
the War Office, another regiment
should be quartered in Meryton.
The time fixed for the
beginning of
their northern tour was now fast approaching, and a fortnight only was
wanting
of it, when a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed
its
commencement and curtailed its extent.
Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from
setting out till a
fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a month,
and as
that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as
they had
proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and comfort they had
built on,
they were obliged to give up the Lakes,
and substitute a more contracted tour, and, according to the present
plan, were
to go no farther northwards than Derbyshire.
In that county there was enough to be seen to occupy
the chief of their
three weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had
formerly passed some
years of her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, was
probably as
great an object of her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, or the Peak.
Elizabeth was excessively
disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing the Lakes, and still
thought
there might have been time enough.
But
it was her business to be satisfied-- and certainly her temper to be
happy; and
all was soon right again.
With the mention of
Derbyshire there
were many ideas connected. It
was
impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and
its
owner. "But
surely," said she,
"I may enter his county without impunity, and rob it of a few petrified
spars without his perceiving me."
The period of
expectation was now
doubled. Four weeks
were to pass away
before her uncle and aunt's arrival.
But
they did pass away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four
children, did at
length appear at Longbourn. The
children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two younger boys,
were to
be left under the particular care of their cousin Jane, who was the
general
favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly
adapted her
for attending to them in every way-- teaching them, playing with them,
and
loving them.
The Gardiners stayed
only one night at
Longbourn, and set off the next morning with Elizabeth in
pursuit of novelty and
amusement. One
enjoyment was certain--
that of suitableness of companions; a suitableness which comprehended
health
and temper to bear inconveniences-- cheerfulness to enhance every
pleasure--
and affection and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves
if there
were disappointments abroad.
It is not the object of
this work to give
a description of Derbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places
through which
their route thither lay; Oxford,
Blenheim, Warwick,
Kenilworth, Birmingham,
&c., are sufficiently known.
A small
part of Derbyshire is all the present concern.
To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs.
Gardiner's former
residence, and where
she had lately
learned some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after
having
seen all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of
Lambton, Elizabeth found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not in their direct
road, nor more
than a mile or two out of it. In
talking
over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an
inclination to
see the place again. Mr.
Gardiner declared
his willingness, and Elizabeth
was applied to for her approbation.
"My love, should not you
like to
see a place of which you have heard so much?" said her aunt; "a
place, too, with which so many of your acquaintances are connected. Wickham passed all his
youth there, you
know."
Elizabeth was
distressed. She
felt that she had no
business at Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for
seeing
it. She must own
that she was tired of
seeing great houses; after going over so many, she really had no
pleasure in
fine carpets or satin curtains.
Mrs. Gardiner abused her
stupidity. "If it
were merely a fine house richly
furnished," said she, "I should not care about it myself; but the
grounds are delightful. They
have some
of the finest woods in the country."
Elizabeth said no
more-- but her mind could not acquiesce.
The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing
the place, instantly
occurred. It would
be dreadful! She
blushed at the very idea, and thought it
would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there
were objections; and
she finally resolved that it could be the last resource, if her private
inquiries to the absence of the family were unfavourably answered.
Accordingly, when she
retired at night,
she asked the chambermaid whether Pemberley were not a very fine place?
what
was the name of its proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether the
family
were down for the summer? A
most welcome
negative followed the last question-- and her alarms now being removed,
she was
at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself;
and when
the subject was revived the next morning, and she was again applied to,
could
readily answer, and with a proper air of indifference, that she had not
really
any dislike to the scheme. To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.
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