Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
CHAPTER X.
More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedlymeet Mr. Darcy.--She felt all the perverseness of the mischance thatshould bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its everhappening again, took care to inform him at first, that it was afavourite haunt of hers.--How it could occur a second time therefore wasvery odd!--Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilfulill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was notmerely a few formal enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but heactually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He neversaid a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or oflistening much; but it struck her in the course of their third rencontrethat he was asking some odd unconnected questions--about her pleasure inbeing at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr.and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings and hernot perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenevershe came into Kent again she would be staying _there_ too. His wordsseemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts?She supposed, if he meant any thing, he must mean an allusion to whatmight arise in that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she wasquite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite theParsonage.
She was engaged one day as she walked, in re-perusing Jane's lastletter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had notwritten in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy,she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Puttingaway the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said,
”I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”
”I have been making the tour of the Park,” he replied, ”as I generallydo every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Areyou going much farther?”
”No, I should have turned in a moment.”
And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonagetogether.
”Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she.
”Yes--if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. Hearranges the business just as he pleases.”
”And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at leastgreat pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know any body who seemsmore to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”
”He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.”But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it thanmany others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speakfeelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial anddependence.”
”In my opinion, the younger son of an Earl can know very little ofeither. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial anddependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from goingwherever you chose, or procuring any thing you had a fancy for?”
”These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I haveexperienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greaterweight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marrywhere they like.”
”Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very oftendo.”
”Our habits of expence make us too dependant, and there are not many inmy rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention tomoney.”
”Is this,” thought Elizabeth, ”meant for me?” and she coloured at theidea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, ”And pray, what isthe usual price of an Earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother isvery sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”
He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupta silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,she soon afterwards said,
”I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake ofhaving somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure alasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps his sister does as wellfor the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what helikes with her.”
”No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, ”that is an advantage which he mustdivide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”
”Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does yourcharge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age, are sometimes alittle difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, shemay like to have her own way.”
As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly, and the mannerin which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely togive them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or othergot pretty near the truth. She directly replied,
”You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I daresay she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is avery great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst andMiss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”
”I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentleman-likeman--he is a great friend of Darcy's.”
”Oh! yes,” said Elizabeth drily--”Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr.Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”
”Care of him!--Yes, I really believe Darcy _does_ take care of him inthose points where he most wants care. From something that he told me inour journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted tohim. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose thatBingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”
”What is it you mean?”
”It is a circumstance which Darcy of course would not wish to begenerally known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family,it would be an unpleasant thing.”
”You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”
”And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to beBingley. What he told me was merely this; that he congratulated himselfon having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a mostimprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any otherparticulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing himthe kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and fromknowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”
”Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?”
”I understood that there were some very strong objections against thelady.”
”And what arts did he use to separate them?”
”He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam smiling. ”Heonly told me, what I have now told you.”
Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling withindignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why shewas so thoughtful.
”I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. ”Yourcousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”
”You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”
”I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety ofhis friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was todetermine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy.” ”But,”she continued, recollecting herself, ”as we know none of theparticulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposedthat there was much affection in the case.”
”That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam, ”but it islessening the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly.”
This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture ofMr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer; and,therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferentmatters till they reached the parsonage. There, shut into her own room,as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruptionof all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any otherpeople could be meant than those with whom she was connected. Therecould not exist in the world _two_ men, over whom Mr. Darcy could havesuch boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measurestaken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but shehad always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design andarrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him,_he_ was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause of all thatJane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for awhile every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heartin the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might haveinflicted.
”There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were ColonelFitzwilliam's words, and these strong objections probably were, herhaving one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was inbusiness in London.
”To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, ”there could be no possibility ofobjection. All loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understandingexcellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither couldany thing be urged against my father, who, though with somepeculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain,and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thoughtof her mother indeed, her confidence gave way a little, but she wouldnot allow that any objections _there_ had material weight with Mr.Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound fromthe want of importance in his friend's connections, than from their wantof sense; and she was quite decided at last, that he had been partlygoverned by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish ofretaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.
The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on aheadache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added toher unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend hercousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins,seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as muchas possible prevented her husband from pressing her, but Mr. Collinscould not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine's being ratherdispleased by her staying at home.
More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedlymeet Mr. Darcy.--She felt all the perverseness of the mischance thatshould bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its everhappening again, took care to inform him at first, that it was afavourite haunt of hers.--How it could occur a second time therefore wasvery odd!--Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilfulill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was notmerely a few formal enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but heactually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He neversaid a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or oflistening much; but it struck her in the course of their third rencontrethat he was asking some odd unconnected questions--about her pleasure inbeing at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr.and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings and hernot perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenevershe came into Kent again she would be staying _there_ too. His wordsseemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts?She supposed, if he meant any thing, he must mean an allusion to whatmight arise in that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she wasquite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite theParsonage.
She was engaged one day as she walked, in re-perusing Jane's lastletter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had notwritten in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy,she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Puttingaway the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said,
”I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”
”I have been making the tour of the Park,” he replied, ”as I generallydo every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Areyou going much farther?”
”No, I should have turned in a moment.”
And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonagetogether.
”Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she.
”Yes--if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. Hearranges the business just as he pleases.”
”And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at leastgreat pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know any body who seemsmore to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”
”He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.”But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it thanmany others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speakfeelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial anddependence.”
”In my opinion, the younger son of an Earl can know very little ofeither. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial anddependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from goingwherever you chose, or procuring any thing you had a fancy for?”
”These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I haveexperienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greaterweight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marrywhere they like.”
”Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very oftendo.”
”Our habits of expence make us too dependant, and there are not many inmy rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention tomoney.”
”Is this,” thought Elizabeth, ”meant for me?” and she coloured at theidea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, ”And pray, what isthe usual price of an Earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother isvery sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”
He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupta silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,she soon afterwards said,
”I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake ofhaving somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure alasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps his sister does as wellfor the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what helikes with her.”
”No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, ”that is an advantage which he mustdivide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”
”Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does yourcharge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age, are sometimes alittle difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, shemay like to have her own way.”
As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly, and the mannerin which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely togive them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or othergot pretty near the truth. She directly replied,
”You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I daresay she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is avery great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst andMiss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”
”I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentleman-likeman--he is a great friend of Darcy's.”
”Oh! yes,” said Elizabeth drily--”Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr.Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”
”Care of him!--Yes, I really believe Darcy _does_ take care of him inthose points where he most wants care. From something that he told me inour journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted tohim. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose thatBingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”
”What is it you mean?”
”It is a circumstance which Darcy of course would not wish to begenerally known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family,it would be an unpleasant thing.”
”You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”
”And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to beBingley. What he told me was merely this; that he congratulated himselfon having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a mostimprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any otherparticulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing himthe kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and fromknowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”
”Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?”
”I understood that there were some very strong objections against thelady.”
”And what arts did he use to separate them?”
”He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam smiling. ”Heonly told me, what I have now told you.”
Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling withindignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why shewas so thoughtful.
”I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. ”Yourcousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”
”You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”
”I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety ofhis friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was todetermine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy.” ”But,”she continued, recollecting herself, ”as we know none of theparticulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposedthat there was much affection in the case.”
”That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam, ”but it islessening the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly.”
This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture ofMr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer; and,therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferentmatters till they reached the parsonage. There, shut into her own room,as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruptionof all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any otherpeople could be meant than those with whom she was connected. Therecould not exist in the world _two_ men, over whom Mr. Darcy could havesuch boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measurestaken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but shehad always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design andarrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him,_he_ was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause of all thatJane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for awhile every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heartin the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might haveinflicted.
”There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were ColonelFitzwilliam's words, and these strong objections probably were, herhaving one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was inbusiness in London.
”To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, ”there could be no possibility ofobjection. All loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understandingexcellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither couldany thing be urged against my father, who, though with somepeculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain,and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thoughtof her mother indeed, her confidence gave way a little, but she wouldnot allow that any objections _there_ had material weight with Mr.Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound fromthe want of importance in his friend's connections, than from their wantof sense; and she was quite decided at last, that he had been partlygoverned by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish ofretaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.
The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on aheadache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added toher unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend hercousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins,seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as muchas possible prevented her husband from pressing her, but Mr. Collinscould not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine's being ratherdispleased by her staying at home.