past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a
disappointment! and with the knowledge of your ill opinion, too! and having to relate such a
thing of his sister! It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it so."
"Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. I know you
will do him such ample justice, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and
indifferent. Your profusion makes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart
will be as light as a feather."
"Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! such an openness
and gentleness in his manner!"
"There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One
has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it."
"I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the APPEARANCE of it as you used to do."
"And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him, without any
reason. It is such a spur to one's genius, such an opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind.
One may be continually abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot always be laughing
at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty."
"Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat the matter as you do now."
160
"Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak
to about what I felt, no Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak and vain and
nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! how I wanted you!"
"How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions in speaking of
Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they DO appear wholly undeserved."
"Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most natural consequence of the
prejudices I had been encouraging. There is one point on which I want your advice. I want to be
told whether I ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintances in general understand Wickham's
character."
Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, "Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him
so dreadfully. What is your opinion?"
"That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorised me to make his communication
public. On the contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as
possible to myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will
believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of
half the good people in Meryton to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it.
Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to anyone here what he really is.
Some time hence it will be all found out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing
it before. At present I will say nothing about it."
"You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for ever. He is now, perhaps,
sorry for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish a character. We must not make him
desperate."
The tumult of Elizabeth's mind was allayed by this conversation. She had got rid of two of the
secrets which had weighed on her for a fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane,
whenever she might wish to talk again of either. But there was still something lurking behind, of
which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not relate the other half of Mr. Darcy's letter,
nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been valued by her friend. Here was knowledge in
which no one could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than a perfect understanding
between the parties could justify her in throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. "And
then," said she, "if that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be able to
161
tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner himself. The liberty of
communication cannot be mine till it has lost all its value!"
She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real state of her sister's spirits.
Jane was not happy. She still cherished a very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even
fancied herself in love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and, from her
age and disposition, greater steadiness than most first attachments often boast; and so fervently
did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to every other man, that all her good sense, and
all her attention to the feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those
regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their tranquillity.
"Well, Lizzy," said Mrs. Bennet one day, "what is your opinion NOW of this sad business of
Jane's? For my part, I am determined never to speak of it again to anybody. I told my sister
Phillips so the other day. But I cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well,
he is a very undeserving young man—and I do not suppose there's the least chance in the world
of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his coming to Netherfield again in the summer;
and I have inquired of everybody, too, who is likely to know."
"I do not believe he will ever live at Netherfield any more."
"Oh well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come. Though I shall always say he used
my daughter extremely ill; and if I was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is,
I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart; and then he will be sorry for what he has done."
But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation, she made no answer.
"Well, Lizzy," continued her mother, soon afterwards, "and so the Collinses live very
comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it will last. And what sort of table do they keep?
Charlotte is an excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, she is saving
enough. There is nothing extravagant in THEIR housekeeping, I dare say."
"No, nothing at all."
"A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. THEY will take care not to outrun
their income. THEY will never be distressed for money. Well, much good may it do them! And
so, I suppose, they often talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it
as quite their own, I dare say, whenever that happens."
162
"It was a subject which they could not mention before me."
"No; it would have been strange if they had; but I make no doubt they often talk of it between
themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the
better. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me."
Chapter 41
The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was the last of the regiment's