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 extraordinary. 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 embarrassment, 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."
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"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 congratulate 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."
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Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the desired effect; and she soon
satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of attachment. When convinced 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 expressively, and shook hands with such
warmth, as left no doubt of his good information; and he soon afterwards said aloud, "Mrs.
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. Won't it, Kitty?" Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed 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:
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"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 consent 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 filling him with fears and
regrets in disposing of her—was a wretched reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy