Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wick-
ham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she knew not
how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's re-
gard; and yet, it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young
man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having
endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings; and
nothing remained therefore to be done, but to think well of them both, to
defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mis-
take whatever could not be otherwise explained.
"They have both," said she, "been deceived, I dare say, in some way or
other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps mis-
represented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture
the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual
blame on either side."
"Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on
behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the
business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of
somebody."
"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my
opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it
places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's favourite in such a manner, one
whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of
common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be
capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in
him? Oh! no."
"I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on, than
that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me
last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be
not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks."
"It is difficult indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to
think."
"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think."
But Jane could think with certainty on only one point—that Mr. Bingley,
if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair be-
came public.
The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this
conversation passed, by the arrival of the very persons of whom they had
been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal invi-
tation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the fol-
lowing Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend
again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she
had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family
they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying
not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon
gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother
by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's
civilities.
The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every fe-
male of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in compliment
to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invita-
tion from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured
to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the atten-
tions of her brother; and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great
deal with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr.
Darcy's look and behavior. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Ly-
dia depended less on any single event, or any particular person, for though
they each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wick-
ham, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a
ball was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she
had no disinclination for it.
"While I can have my mornings to myself," said she, "it is enough—I
think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society
has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider inter-
vals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody."
Elizabeth's spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she did not
often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him
whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he did,
whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement; and
she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on
that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Arch-
bishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to dance.
"I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you," said he, "that a ball of
this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can
have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself,
that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the
course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss
Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my
cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for
her."
Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being
engaged by Mr. Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins
instead! her liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help for it,
however. Mr. Wickham's happiness and her own were perforce delayed a
little longer, and Mr. Collins's proposal accepted with as good a grace as she
could. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it sug-
gested of something more. It now first struck her, that she was selected from
among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and
of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eli-
gible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his in-
creasing civilities toward herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a com-
pliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than gratified
herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave
her to understand that the probability of their marriage was extremely
agreeable to her. Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being
well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Mr.
Collins might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel
about him.
If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the
younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very pitiable state at this time,
for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a
succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no
officers, no news could be sought after—the very shoe-roses for Netherfield
were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of her pa-
tience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of her acquain-
tance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on Tuesday, could
have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty
and Lydia.
