
                    PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

                       vol. 3

                     chapter 17



"My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?" was
 a question which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she
entered their room, and from all the others when they sat
down to table.  She had only to say in reply, that they had
wandered about, till she was beyond her own knowledge.  She
coloured as she spoke; but neither that, nor any thing else,
awakened a suspicion of the truth.
The evening passed quietly, unmarked by any thing extra-
ordinary.  The acknowledged lovers talked and laughed, the
unacknowledged were silent.  Darcy was not of a disposition
in which happiness overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth,
agitated and confused, rather knew that she was happy, than
felt herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrass-
ment, there were other evils before her.  She anticipated what
would be felt in the family when her situation became known;
she was aware that no one liked him but Jane; and even feared
that with the others it was a dislike which not all his fortune
and consequence might do away.
At night she opened her heart to Jane.  Though suspicion
was very far from Miss Bennet's general habits, she was
absolutely incredulous here.
"You are joking, Lizzy.  This cannot be! -- engaged to Mr.
Darcy!  No, no, you shall not deceive me.  I know it to be
impossible."
"This is a wretched beginning indeed!  My sole dependence
was on you; and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you
do not.  Yet, indeed, I am in earnest.  I speak nothing but the
truth.  He still loves me, and we are engaged."
Jane looked at her doubtingly.  "Oh, Lizzy!  it cannot be.
I know how much you dislike him."
"You know nothing of the matter.  That is all to be forgot.
.. <perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now.  But in
such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable.  This is
the last time I shall ever remember it myself."
Miss Bennet still looked all amazement.  Elizabeth again,
and more seriously assured her of its truth.
"Good Heaven!  can it be really so!  Yet now I must believe
you," cried Jane.  "My dear, dear Lizzy, I would -- I do con-
gratulate you -- but are you certain?  forgive the question --
are you quite certain that you can be happy with him?"
"There can be no doubt of that.  It is settled between us
already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world.
But are you pleased, Jane?  Shall you like to have such a
brother?"
"Very, very much.  Nothing could give either Bingley or
myself more delight.  But we considered it, we talked of it as
impossible.  And do you really love him quite well enough?
Oh, Lizzy!  do any thing rather than marry without affection-
Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?"
"Oh, yes!  You will only think I feel more than I ought to do,
when I tell you all."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, I must confess, that I love him better than I do
Bingley.  I am afraid you will be angry."
"My dearest sister, now be serious.  I want to talk very
seriously.  Let me know every thing that I am to know,
without delay.  Will you tell me how long you have
loved him?"
"It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know
when it began.  But I believe I must date it from my first
seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley."
Another intreaty that she would be serious, however,
 produced the desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane
by her solemn assurances of attachment.  When con-
vinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing farther
to wish.
"Now I am quite happy," said she, "for you will be as
happy as myself.  I always had a value for him.  Were it
for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed
him; but now, as Bingley's friend and your husband, there
can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me.  But
Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me.
How little did you tell me of what passed at Pemberley
and Lambton!  I owe all that I know of it, to another, not
to you."
Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy.  She had
been unwilling to mention Bingley; and the unsettled state
of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of
his friend.  But now she would no longer conceal from her,
his share in Lydia's marriage.  All was acknowledged, and half
the night spent in conversation.
"Good gracious!" cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a
window the next morning, "if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy
is not coming here again with our dear Bingley!  What can he
mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here?  I had
no notion but he would go a shooting, or something or other,
and not disturb us with his company.  What shall we do with
him?  Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may
not be in Bingley's way."
Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at-so convenient
a proposal; yet was really vexed that her mother should be
always giving him such an epithet.
As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expres-
sively, and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt
of his good information; and he soon afterwards said aloud,
"Mr. Bennet," have you no more lanes hereabouts in which
Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?"
"I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty," said Mrs.
Bennet, "to walk to Oakham Mount this morning.  It is a nice
long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view."
"It may do very well for the others," replied Mr. Bingley;
"but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty.  Wont it, Kitty?"
Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home.  Darcy pro-
fessed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and
Elizabeth silently consented.  As she went up stairs to get
ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying,
"I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have
that disagreeable man all to yourself.  But I hope you will not
mind it: it is all for Jane's sake, you know; and there is no
occasion for talking to him, except just now and then.  So,
do not put yourself to inconvenience."
During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet's con-
sent should be asked in the course of the evening.  Elizabeth
reserved to herself the application for her mother's.  She
could not determine how her mother would take it; sometimes
doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur would be
enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man.  But whether
 she were violently set against the match, or violently delighted
with it, it was certain that her manner would be equally ill
adapted to do credit to her sense; and she could no more bear
that Mr. Darcy should hear the first raptures of her joy, than
the first vehemence of her disapprobation.
In the evening, soon-after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the
library, she saw Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her
agitation on seeing it was extreme.  She did not fear her
father's opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy,
and that it should be through her means, that she, his favourite
child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be fill-
ing him with fears and regrets in disposing of her, was a
wretched reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy
appeared again, when, looking at him, she was a little relieved
by his smile.  In a few minutes he approached the table where
she was sitting with Kitty; and, while pretending to admire
her work said in a whisper "Go to your father, he wants you
in the library."  She was gone directly.
Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and
anxious.  "Lizzy," said he, "what are you doing?  Are you out
of your senses, to be accepting this man?  Have not you always
hated him?"
How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions
had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate!
It would have spared her from explanations and professions
which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were
now necessary, and she assured him with some confusion, of
her attachment to Mr. Darcy.
"Or in other words, you are determined to have him.  He is
rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine
carriages than Jane.  But will they make you happy?"
"Have you any other objection," said Elizabeth, "than your
belief of my indifference?"
"None at all.  We all know him to be a proud, unpleasent
sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him."
"I do, I do like him," she replied, with tears in her eyes,
"I love him.  Indeed he has no improper pride.  He is perfectly
amiable.  You do not know what he really is; then pray do not
pain me by speaking of him in such terms."
"Lizzy," said her father, "I have given him my consent.
He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare
refuse any thing, which he condescended to ask.  I now give it
to you, if you are resolved on having him.  But let me advise
you to think better of it.  I know your disposition, Lizzy.  I
know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless
you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to
him as a superior.  Your lively talents would place you in the
greatest danger in an unequal marriage.  You could scarcely
escape discredit and misery.  My child, let me not have the
grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life.  You
know not what you are about."
Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in
her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr.
Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the
gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone,
relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the
work of a day, but had stood the test of many months suspense,
and numerating with energy all his good qualities, she did
conquer her father's incredulity, and reconcile him to the
match.
"Well, my dear," said he, when she ceased speaking, "I have
no more to say.  If this be the case, he deserves you.  I could not
have parted with you, my Lizzy, to any one less worthy."
To complete the favourable impression, she then told him
what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia.  He heard
her with astonishment.
"This is an evening of wonders, indeed!  And so, Darcy did
every thing; made up the match, gave the money, paid the
fellow's debts, and got him his commission!  So much the
better.  It will save me a world of trouble and economy.  Had
it been your uncle's doing, I must and would have paid him;
but these violent young lovers carry every thing their own
way.  I shall offer to pay him to-morrow; he will rant and storm
about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter."
 He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before,
on his reading Mr. Collins's letter; and after laughing at her
some time, allowed her at last to go -- saying, as she quitted
the room, "If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send
them in, for I am quite at leisure."
Elizabeth's mind was now relieved from a very heavy
weight; and, after half an hour's quiet reflection in her own
room, she was able to join the others with tolerable com-
posure.  Every thing was too recent for gaiety, but the evening
passed tranquilly away; there was no longer any thing material
to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would
come in time.
When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night,
she followed her, and made the important communication.
Its effect was most extraordinary; for on first hearing it, Mrs.
Bennet sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable.  Nor was
it under many, many minutes, that she could comprehend
what she heard; though not in general backward to credit
what was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the
shape of a lover to any of them.  She began at length to recover,
to fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder,
and bless herself.
"Good gracious!  Lord bless me!  only think!  dear me!  Mr.
Darcy!  Who would have thought it!  And is it really true?  Oh!
my sweetest Lizzy!  how rich and how great you will be!  What
pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have!  Jane's
is nothing to it -- nothing at all.  I am so pleased -- so happy.
Such a charming man! -- so handsome!  so tall! -- Oh, my dear
Lizzy!  pray apologise for my having disliked him so much
before.  I hope he will overlook it.  Dear, dear Lizzy.  A house
in town!  Every thing that is charming!  Three daughters
married!  Ten thousand a year!  Oh, Lord!  What will become
of me.  I shall go distracted."
This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be
doubted: and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was
heard only by herself, soon went away.  But before she had
been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed
her.
"My dearest child," she cried, "I can think of nothing else!
Ten thousand a year, and very likely more!  "Tis as good as
a Lord!  And a special licence.  You must and shall be married
by a special licence.  But my dearest love, tell me what dish
Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it to-
morrow."
This was a sad omen of what her mother's behaviour to
the gentleman himself might be; and Elizabeth found, that
though in the certain possession of his warmest affection, and
secure of her relations' consent, there was still something to
be wished for.  But the morrow passed off much better than
she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood in such awe of
her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak to
him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or
mark her deference for his opinion.
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking
pains to get acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon
assured her that he was rising every hour in his esteem.
"I admire all my three sons-in-law highly," said he.  "Wick-
ham, perhaps, is my favourite; but I think I shall like your
husband quite as well as Jane's."
