
                    PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

                       vol. 3

                      chapter 7



TWO days after Mr. Bennet's return, as Jane and Elizabeth
were walking together in the shrubbery behind the house,
they saw the housekeeper coming towards them, and, con-
cluding that she came to call them to their mother, went for-
ward to meet her; but, instead of the expected summons,
when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, "I beg
your pardon, madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes
you might have got some good news from town, so I took the
liberty of coming to ask."
"What do you mean, Hill?  We have heard nothing from
town."
"Dear madam," cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment,
"dont you know there is an express come for master from
Mr. Gardiner?  He has been here this half hour, and master
has had a letter."
Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for
speech.  They ran through the vestibule into the breakfast
room; from thence to the library; -- their father was in neither;
 and they were on the point of seeking him up stairs with their
mother, when they were met by the butler, who said,
 "If you are looking for my master, ma'am, he is walking
towards the little copse."
 Upon this information, they instantly passed through the
hall once more, and ran across the lawn after their father, who
was deliberately pursuing his way towards a small wood on
one side of the paddock.
 Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of
running as Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister,
panting for breath, came up with him, and eagerly cried out,
"Oh, Papa, what news?  what news?  have you heard from
 my uncle?"
"Yes, I have had a letter from him by express."
 "Well, and what news does it bring?  good or bad?"
"What is there of good to be expected?" said he, taking the
letter from his pocket; "but perhaps you would like to read it."
Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand.  Jane now
came up.
"Read it aloud," said their father, "for I hardly know myself
what it is about."
"Gracechurch-street, Monday,
August 2.
"MY DEAR BROTHER,
 "At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and
such as, upon the whole, I hope will give you satisfaction
 Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough
to find out in what part of London they were.  The particulars,
I reserve till we meet.  It is enough to know they are discovered,
I have seen them both -- "
 "Then it is, as I always hoped," cried Jane; "they are married!"
Elizabeth read on; "I have seen them both.  They are not
married, nor can I find there was any intention of being so;
but if you are willing to perform the engagements which I
have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long
before they are.  All that is required of you is, to assure to your
daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five thousand
pounds, secured among your children after the decease of
yourself and my sister; and, moreover, to enter into an engage-
ment of allowing her, during your life, one hundred pounds
per annum.  These are conditions, which, considering every
thing, I had no hesitation in complying with, as far as I
thought myself privileged, for you.  I shall send this by
express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer.
You will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr.
Wickham's circumstances are not so hopeless as they are
generally believed to be.  The world has been deceived in
that respect; and I am happy to say, there will be some little
money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle on
my niece, in addition to her own fortune.  If, as I conclude will
be the case, you send me full powers to act in your name,
throughout the whole of this business, I will immediately give
directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper settlement.
There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming to
town again; therefore, stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend
an my diligence and care.  Send back your answer as soon as
you can, and be careful to write explicitly.  We have judged it
best, that my niece should be married from this house, of
which I hope you will approve.  She comes to us to-day.  I
shall write again as soon as any thing more is determined on.
Your's, &c.
"EDW.  GARDINER.
"Is it possible!" cried Elizabeth, when she had finished.
"Can it be possible that he will marry her?"
"Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought
him;' said her sister.  "My dear father, I congratulate you."
"And have you answered the letter?" said Elizabeth.
"No; but it must be done soon."
Most earnestly did she then intreat him to lose no more
time before he wrote.
"Oh!  my dear father," she cried, "come back, and write
immediately.  Consider how important every moment is, in
such a case."
"Let me write for you," said Jane, "if you dislike the trouble
yourself."
 "I dislike it very much," he replied; "but it must be done."
And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked
towards the house.
"And may I ask?" said Elizabeth, "but the terms, I suppose,
must be complied with."
"Complied with!  I am only ashamed of his asking so little."
 "And they must marry!  Yet he is such a man!"
"Yes, yes, they must marry.  There is nothing else to be
done.  But there are two things that I want very much to
know: -- one is, how much money your uncle has laid down,
to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever to pay him."
"Money!  my uncle!" cried Jane, "what do you mean, Sir?"
"'I mean, that no man in his senses, would marry Lydia on
so slight a temptation as one hundred a-year during my life,
and fifty after I am gone."
"That is very true," said Elizabeth; "though it had not
occurred to me before.  His debts to be discharged, and some-
thing still to remain!  Oh!  it must be my uncle's doings!
Generous, good man, I am afraid he has distressed himself.
A small sum could not do all this."
 "No," said her father, "Wickham's a fool, if he takes her with
a farthing less than ten thousand pounds.  I should be sorry to
think so ill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship."
"Ten thousand pounds!  Heaven forbid!  How is half such
a sum to be repaid?"
Mr. Bennet made no answer, and each of them, deep in
thought, continued silent till they reached the house.  Their
father then went to the library to write, and the girls walked
into the breakfast-room.
"And they are really to be married!" cried Elizabeth as soon
as they were by themselves.  "How strange this is!  And for this
we are to be thankful.  That they should marry, small as is
their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character,
we are forced to rejoice!  Oh, Lydia!"
"I comfort myself with thinking," replied Jane, "that he
certainly would not marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard
for her.  Though our kind uncle has done something towards
clearing him, I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, or
any thing like it, has been advanced.  He has children of his
own, and may have more.  How could he spare half ten
thousand pounds?"
"If we are ever able to learn what Wickham's debts have
been," said Elizabeth, "and how much is settled on his side
on our sister, we shall exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has
done for them, because Wickham has not sixpence of his own,
The kindncss of my uncle and aunt can never be requited.
Their taking her home, and affording her their personal pro-
tection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage,
as year?  of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge.  By this
time she is actually with them!  If such goodness does not
make her miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy!
What a meeting for her, when she first sees my aunt!"
"We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either
side," said Janei "I hope and trust they will yet be happy.  His
consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is
come to a right way of thinking.  Their mutual affection will
steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly,
and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their
past imprudence forgotten."
"Their conduct has been such," replied Elizabeth, "as
neither you, nor I, nor any body, can ever forget.  It is useless
to talk of it."
It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in
all likelihood perfectly ignorant of what had happened.
They went to the library, therefore, and asked their father,
whether he would not wish them to make it known to
her He was writing, and, without raising his head, coolly
replied,
"Just as you please."
 "May we take my uncle's letter to read to her?"
"Take whatever you like, and get away."
 Elizabeth took the letter from his writing table, and they
went up stairs together.  Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs.
Bennet: one communication would, therefore, do for all.
After a slight preparation for good news, the letter was read
aloud.  Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself.  As soon as
Jane had read Mr. Gardiner's hope of Lydia's being soon
married, her joy burst forth, and every following sentence
added to its exuberance.  She was now in an irritation as
violent from delight, as she had ever been fidgetty from alarm
and vexation.  To know that her daughter would be married
was enough.  She was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor
humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.
"My dear, dear Lydia!" she cried: "This is delightful
indeed! -- She will be married! -- I shall see her again! -- She
will be married at sixteen! -- My good, kind brother! -- I knew
how it would be -- I knew he would manage every thing.  How
I long to see her!  and to see dear Wickham too!  But the
clothes, the wedding clothes!  I will write to my sister Gardiner
about them directly.  Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father,
and ask him how much he will give her.  Stay, stay, I will go
myself.  Ring the bell, Kitty, for Hill.  I will put on my things
in a moment.  My dear, dear Lydia! -- How merry we shall be
 together when we meet!"
Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the
violence of these transports, by leading her thoughts to the
obligations which Mr. Gardiner's behaviour laid them all
under.
"For we must attribute this happy conclusion," she added,
in a great measure, to his kindness.  We are persuaded that
he has pledged himself to assist Mr. Wickham with money."
"Well," cried her mother, "it is all very right; who should do
it but her own uncle?  If he had not had a family of his own,
 I and my children must of had all his money you know, and
it is the first time we have ever had any thing from him, except
a few presents.  Well!  I am so happy.  In a short time, I shall
have a daughter married.  Mrs. Wickham!  How well it sounds.
And she was only sixteen last June.  My dear Jane, I am in such
a flutter, that I am sure I can't write; so I will dictate, and you
write for me.  We will settle with your father about the money
afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately."
She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico,
muslin, and cambric, and would shortly have dictated some
very plentiful orders, had not Jane, though with some diffi-
culty, persuaded her to wait, till her father was at leisure to be
consulted.  One day's delay she observed, would be of small
importance; and her mother was too happy, to be quite so
obstinate as schemes too came into her head.
"I will go to Meryton," said she, "as soon as I am dressed,
and tell the good, good news to my sister Phillips.  And as I
come back, I can call on Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long.  Kitty,
run down and order the carriage.  An airing would do me a
great deal of good, I am sure.  Girls, can I do any thing for you
in Meryton?  Oh!  here comes Hill.  My dear Hill, have you
heard the good news?  Miss Lydia is going to be married; and
you shall all have a bowl of punch, to make merry at her
wedding."
Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy.  Elizabeth
received her congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick
af this folly, took refuge in her own room, that she might think
with freedom.
.. <poor Lydia's situation must, at best, be bad enough; but
that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful.  She felt it
so; and though, in looking forward, neither rational happiness
nor worldly prosperity, could be justly expected for her sister;
in looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago,
she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.
MR.  BENNET had very often wished, before this period of
his life, that, instead of spending his whole income, he had
laid by an annual sum, for the better provision of his children,
and of his wife, if she survived him.  He now wished it more
than ever.  Had he done his duty in that respect, Lydia need
not have been indebted to her uncle, for whatever of honour
or credit could now be purchased for her.  The satisfaction of
prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great
Britain to be her husband, might then have rested in its
proper place.
He was seriously concerned, that a cause of so little
advantage to any one, should be forwarded at the sole expence
of his brother-in-law, and he was determined, if possible, to
find out the extent of his assistance, and to discharge the
obligation as soon as he could.
When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to
be perfectly useless; for, of course, they were to have a son.
"This son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he
should be of age, and the widow and younger children would
by that means be provided for.  Five daughters successively
entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs.
Bennet, for many years after Lydia's birth, had been certain
that he would.  This event had at last been despaired of, but
it was then too late to be saving.  Mrs. Bennet had no turn for
economy, and her husband's love of independence had alone
prevented their exceeding their income.
Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on
Mrs. Bennet and the children.  But in what proportions it
should be divided amongst the latter, depended on the will
of the parents.  This was one point, with regard to Lydia at
least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet could have
no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him.  In terms
of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother,
though expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper
his perfect approbation of all that was done, and his willing-
ness to fulfil the engagements that had been made for him.  He
had never before supposed that, could Wickham be prevailed
on to marry his daughter, it would be done with so little incon-
venience to himself, as by the present arrangement.  He would
scarcely be ten pounds a-year the loser, by the hundred that
was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket
allowance, and the continual presents in money, which
passed to her, through her mother's hands, Lydia's expences
had been very little within that sum.
That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his
side, too, was another very welcome surprise; for his chief
wish at present, was to have as little trouble in the business as
possible.  When the first transports of rage which had pro-
duced his activity in seeking her were over, he naturally
returned to all his former indolence.  His letter was soon dis-
patched; for though dilatory in undertaking business, he was
quick in its execution.  He begged to know farther particulars
of what he was indebted to his brother; but was too angry
with Lydia, to send any message to her.
The good news quickly spread through the house; and with
proportionate speed through the neighbourhood.  It was borne
in the latter with decent philosophy.  To be sure it would have
been more for the advantage of conversation, had Miss Lydia
Bennet come upon the town;' or, as the happiest alternative,
been secluded from the world, in some distant farm house.
But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the
good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had pro-
ceeded before, from all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton,
lost but little of their spirit in this change of circumstances,
because with such an husband, her misery was considered
certain.
It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs,
but on this happy day, she again took her seat at the head of
her table, and in spirits oppressively high.  No sentiment of
shame gave a damp to her triumph.  The marriage of a daughter,
which had been the first object of her wishes, since Jane was
sixteen, was now on the point of accomplishment, and her
thoughts and her words ran wholly on those attendants of
elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and servants.
She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a
" proper situation" for her daughter, and, without knowing or
considering what their income might be, rejected many as
deficient in size and importance.
"Haye-Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would
quit it, or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were
larger; but Ashworth is too far off!  I could not bear to have
her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are
dreadful."
Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption,
while the servants remained.  But when they had withdrawn,
he said to her, "Mrs. Bennet, before you take any, or all of
these houses, for your son and daughter, let us come to a right
understanding.  Into one house in this neighbourhood, they
shall never have admittance.  I will not encourage the im-
pudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn."
A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet
was firm: it soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with
amazement and horror, that her husband would not advance
a guinea to buy clothes for his daughter.  He protested that she
should receive from him no mark of affection whatever, on
the occasion.  Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend it.  That
his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable
resentment, as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without
which her marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all
that she could believe possible.  She was more alive to the dis-
grace, which the want of new clothes must reflect on her
daughter's nuptials, than to any sense of shame at her eloping
and living with Wickham, a fortnight before they took place.
Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had,
from the distress of the moment, been led to make Mr.
Darcy acquainted with their fears for her sister; for since
her marriage would so shortly give the proper termination
to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its unfavourable
beginning, from all those who were not immediately on
the spot.
She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his means.
There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more
confidently depended; but at the same time, there was no one,
whose knowledge of a sister's frailty would have mortified her
so much.  Not, however, from any fear of disadvantage from it,
individually to herself; for at any rate, there seemed a gulf
impassable between them.  Had Lydia's marriage been con-
cluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be sup-
posed that Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family,
where to every other objection would now be added, an
alliance and relationship of the nearest kind with the man
whom he so justly scorned.
From such a connection she could not wonder that he
should shrink.  The wish of procuring her regard, which she
had assured herself of his feeling in Derbyshire, could not in
rational expectation survive such a blow as this.  She was
humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she hardly
knew of what.  She became jealous of his esteem, when she
could no longer hope to be benefited by it.  She wanted to hear
of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelli-
gence.  She was convinced that she could have been happy
with him; when it was no longer likely they should meet.
What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he
know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only
four months ago, would now have been gladly and gratefully
received!  He was as generous, she doubted not, as the most
generous of his sex.  But while he was mortal, there must be
a triumph.
She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the
man, who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her.
His understanding and temper, though unlike her own
would have answered all her wishes.  It was an union that
must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease and
liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners
improved, and from his judgment, information, and knowledge
of the world, she must have received benefit of greater
importance.
 But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring
multitude what connubial felicity really was.  An union of
a different tendency, and precluding the possibility of the
other, was soon to be formed in their family.
How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable
independence, she could not imagine.  But how little of per-
manent happiness could belong to a couple who were only
brought together because their passions were stronger than
their virtue, she could easily conjecture.
Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother.  To Mr.
Bennet's acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurances
of his eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his family,
and concluded with intreaties that thc subject might never be
a mentioned to him again.  The principal purport of his letter
was to inform them, that Mr. Wickham had resolved on
quitting the Militia.
"It was greatly my wish that he should do so," he added, "as
soon as his marriage was fixed on.  And I think you will agree
with me, in considering a removal from that corps as highly
advisable, both on his account and my niece's.  It is Mr. Wick-
ham's intention to go into the regulars; and, among his former
friends, there are still some who are able and willing to assist
him in the army.  He has the promise of an ensigncy in General
 -- 's regiment, now quartered in the North.  It is an advan-
tage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom.  He promises
fairly, and I hope among different people, where they may
each have a character to preserve, they will both be more
prudent.  I have written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of
our present arrangements, and to request that he will satisfy
the various creditors of Mr. Wickham in and near Brighton,
with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have pledged
myself.  And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying
similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of- whom I
shall subjoin a list, according to his information.  He has given
in all his debts; I hope at least he has not deceived us.  Hag-
gerston has our directions, and all will be completed in a week.
They will then join his regiment, unless they are first invited
to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs. Gardiner, that
my niece is very desirous of seeing you all, before she leaves
the South.  She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered
to you and her mother. -- Your's, &c.
E.  GARDINER.
 Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of
Wickham's removal from the -- shire, as clearly as Mr.
Gardiner could do.  But Mrs. Bennet, was not so well pleased
with it.  Lydia's being settled in the North, just when she had
expected most pleasure and pride in her company, for she had
by no means given up her plan of their residing in Hertford-
shire, was a severe disappointment; and besides, it was such
a pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she
was acquainted with every body, and had so many favourites.
"She is so fond of Mrs. Forster," said she, "it will be quite
shocking to send her away!  And there are several of the young
men, too, that she likes very much.  The officers may not be so
pleasant in General -- 's regiment."
His daughter's request, for such it might be considered, of
being admitted into her family again, before she set off for
the North, received at first an absolute negative.  But Jane
and Elizabeth, who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their
sister's feelings and consequence, that she should be noticed
on her marriage by her parents, urged him so earnestly,
yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her and her husband
at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was
prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished.
And their mother had the satisfaction of knowing, that she
should be able to shew her married daughter in the neigh-
bourhood, before she was banished to the North.  When
Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he sent
his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that
as soon as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to
Longbourn.  Elizabeth was surprised, however, that Wick-
ham should consent to such a scheme, and, had she consulted
only her own inclination, any meeting with him would have
been the last object of her wishes.
