CHAPTER VII.
Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of twothousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed indefault of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother'sfortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supplythe deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, andhad left her four thousand pounds.
She had a sister married to a Mr. Philips, who had been a clerk to theirfather, and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled inLondon in a respectable line of trade.
The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a mostconvenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually temptedthither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt andto a milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family,Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions;their minds were more vacant than their sisters', and when nothingbetter offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morninghours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of newsthe country in general might be, they always contrived to learn somefrom their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both withnews and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in theneighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was thehead quarters.
Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interestingintelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of theofficers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret,and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philipsvisited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicityunknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr.Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to theirmother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals ofan ensign.
After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr.Bennet coolly observed,
From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be twoof the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, butI am now convinced.
Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfectindifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, andher hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going thenext morning to London.
I am astonished, my dear, said Mrs. Bennet, that you should be soready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightinglyof any body's children, it should not be of my own however.
If my children are silly I must hope to be always sensible of it.
Yes--but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.
This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. Ihad hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I mustso far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonlyfoolish.
My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense oftheir father and mother.--When they get to our age I dare say they willnot think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when Iliked a red coat myself very well--and indeed so I do still at my heart;and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, shouldwant one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought ColonelForster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in hisregimentals.
Mama, cried Lydia, my aunt says that Colonel Forster and CaptainCarter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they firstcame; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library.
Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with anote for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waitedfor an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she waseagerly calling out, while her daughter read,
Well, Jane, who is it from? what is it about? what does he say? Well,Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.
It is from Miss Bingley, said Jane, and then read it aloud.
My dear Friend,
If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever,
CAROLINE BINGLEY.
With the officers! cried Lydia. I wonder my aunt did not tell us of_that_.
Dining out, said Mrs. Bennet, that is very unlucky.
Can I have the carriage? said Jane.
No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely torain; and then you must stay all night.
That would be a good scheme, said Elizabeth, if you were sure thatthey would not offer to send her home.
Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton;and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.
I had much rather go in the coach.
But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They arewanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?
They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.
But if you have got them to-day, said Elizabeth, my mother's purposewill be answered.
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horseswere engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and hermother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a badday. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before itrained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother wasdelighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission;Jane certainly could not come back.
This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed! said Mrs. Bennet, more thanonce, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the nextmorning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of hercontrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfieldbrought the following note for Elizabeth:
My dearest Lizzy,
I FIND myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones--therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me--and excepting a sore-throat and head-ache there is not much the matter with me.
Yours, &c.
Well, my dear, said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the notealoud, if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, if sheshould die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit ofMr. Bingley, and under your orders.
Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of littletrifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she staysthere, it is all very well. I would go and see her, if I could have thecarriage.
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, thoughthe carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horse-woman, walkingwas her only alternative. She declared her resolution.
How can you be so silly, cried her mother, as to think of such athing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you getthere.
I shall be very fit to see Jane--which is all I want.
Is this a hint to me, Lizzy, said her father, to send for thehorses?
No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing,when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.
I admire the activity of your benevolence, observed Mary, but everyimpulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion,exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.
We will go as far as Meryton with you, said Catherine andLydia.--Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies setoff together.
If we make haste, said Lydia, as they walked along, perhaps we maysee something of Captain Carter before he goes.
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of oneof the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossingfield after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springingover puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last withinview of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a faceglowing with the warmth of exercise.
She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane wereassembled, and where her appearance created a great deal ofsurprise.--That she should have walked three miles so early in the day,in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs.Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held herin contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them;and in their brother's manners there was something better thanpoliteness; there was good humour and kindness.--Mr. Darcy said verylittle, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided betweenadmiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion,and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. Thelatter was thinking only of his breakfast.
Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. MissBennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish and not wellenough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to herimmediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of givingalarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longedfor such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal,however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together,could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for theextraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attendedher.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabethbegan to like them herself, when she saw how much affection andsolicitude they shewed for Jane. The apothecary came, and havingexamined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught aviolent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it;advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advicewas followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her headached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor werethe other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in factnothing to do elsewhere.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go; and veryunwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she onlywanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concernin parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offerof the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for thepresent. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant wasdispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay, and bringback a supply of clothes.