Chapter-18
Their sister’s wedding day arrived. The carriage was sent for Lydia and Wickham and they were to return in it by dinner time. Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets, especially by Jane, who was wretched at the thought of what Lydia must be feeling.
They came. The family was in the breakfast room to receive them. Smiles were on the face of Mrs. Rennet as the carriage drove up to the door. Her husband looked unapproachable and grave; her daughters alarmed, uneasy, anxious.
Lydia’s voice was heard outside; the door was thrown open and she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forward, embraced her and welcomed her with joy; gave her hand and an affectionate smile to Wickham, who followed his lady, and wished them both joy.
Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite so friendly. He looked even more solemn and he scarcely opened his lips. The easy confidence of the young couple, indeed, was enough to annoy him. Elizabeth was disgusted and even Jane was shocked. Lydia was Lydia still; untamed, wild, noisy and fearless. She turned from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations. Wickham was no more distressed than herself, but his manners were as pleasing as always. Elizabeth blushed and Jane blushed; but the cheeks of the two who caused their embarrassment remained as usual. There was no lack of conversation. The bride and her mother could not talk fast enough.
Wickham began asking about his friends in the neighbourhood with a good-humoured ease which Elizabeth could not equal in her replies. They seemed to have the happiest memories in the world. Nothing of the past was remembered with pain. Lydia herself mentioned subjects which her sisters would not have dared to mention. She longed to see Mrs. Phillips and the Lucases and to hear herself called Mrs. Wickham. After dinner she went to show her ring to the servants and boast of being married.
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer as soon as she possibly could. Hurrying into the little wood where she was not likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches and prepared to be happy. For the length of the letter proved that it did not contain a denial.
“My dear niece,
I must confess myself surprised by your question. I did not expect it from you. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am. If he had not believed that you knew about the matter, nothing would have persuaded him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and ignorant I must explain this.
On the very day that I returned from Longbourn your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called and was alone with him in his room several hours. It was all over before I arrived. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were and that he had seen and talked with both—Wickham often and Lydia once. I understand that he came down to London only one day after ourselves in order to search for them. He said that it was his fault that Wickham’s wickedness was not well known, so that no young woman might love or trust in him. He generously blamed it all on his mistaken pride and confessed that he had thought it would be undignified to reveal his private troubles to the world. He said it was therefore his duty to try to remedy an evil which had been caused by himself. If he had another motive I am sure it would not disgrace him.
He had something to help his search, which was more than we had. There is a Mrs. Younge who was once a governess to Miss Darcy and was dismissed for some reason. She then took a large house in Edward Street, where she lets rooms. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, a close friend of Wickham and he went to her for news of him. He was two or three days before he could get the information from her. She would not betray her friend, I suppose, without bribery, but she really did know where he was.
At length, however, our kind friend obtained the address. He saw Wickham and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. His first object had been to persuade her to leave her disgraceful situation and return to her friends. But he found Lydia absolutely determined to stay where she was. She would not hear of leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married one day, and it did not much matter when.
The only remedy, Mr. Darcy thought, was to arrange and hasten a marriage. He soon learnt that this had never been Wickham’s intention. Instead he still hoped to make his fortune by marriage in another country. But he could still be tempted by the hope of immediate help. They met several times, for there was much to be discussed; Wickham, of course, wanted more than he could get, but at length was persuaded to be reasonable.
When everything was settled between them, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to let your uncle know. As I said, they talked a great deal together. Our visitor was very obstinate. I think, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect in his character. He has been accused of many faults at different times, but this is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself, though I am sure your uncle would willingly have paid all. They battled together a long time, but at last your uncle was forced to yield. Instead of being allowed to help his niece, he was forced to put up with only having the credit for it.
I really believe your letter this morning gave him great pleasure, because it made necessary an explanation that would give the praise where it was due. But, Lizzy, no one must know of this except yourself, and perhaps Jane. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting to much more than a thousand pounds. Another thousand will be settled on her and his commission will be purchased in the army.
When all this was arranged Mr. Darcy returned to his friends at Pemberley. But it was agreed that he should be in London once more for the wedding and to finish the money matters. Lydia came to us and Wickham was often at the house. I would not tell you how dissatisfied I was with her, if I had not seen from Jane’s last letter that her conduct at home has been just the same. I talked to her repeatedly in a most serious manner, explaining the wickedness of what she had done and the unhappiness she had brought her family. If she heard me it was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes quite annoyed, but then I remembered my dear Elizabeth and Jane and for their sakes had patience with her.
Mr. Darcy, as Lydia told you, attended the wedding.
He dined with us the next day. Will you be angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I say how much I like him? His behaviour to us has been in every way as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. His intelligence and opinions all please me. He needs nothing except a little more liveliness and, if he marries wisely, his wife may teach him that. Please forgive me if I embarrass you; at least do not punish me by keeping me out of Pemberley. I shall never be quite happy until I have been all round the park! But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me for half an hour.
Yours very sincerely,
“ M. GARDINER.”
This letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits. It was difficult to decide whether she felt more pain or pleasure. Her vague suspicions of his goodness were proved entirely true. He had followed them intentionally to town. He had taken all the trouble necessary for such a search; it had been necessary to ask help from a woman he despised and to meet, persuade and bribe the man whom he most wished to avoid. He had done all this for a girl whom he could not like or respect. Had it been done for her? But it was impossible that affection for a woman who had already refused him could overcome his natural horror at relationship with Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know what they owed to a person who could never receive any return. They owed the recovery of Lydia to him. Oh, how she grieved over every rudeness she had ever shown to him! For herself she was humbled, but she was proud of him. She read her aunt’s praise of him again and again. It was hardly enough, but it pleased her. She even felt some pleasure, mixed with regret, on finding how firmly her aunt and her uncle had decided that affection existed between Mr. Darcy and herself.
