Had Elizabeth's opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could not
have formed a very pleasing opinion of conjugal felicity or domestic com-
fort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of
good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman
whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their mar-
riage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confi-
dence had vanished for ever; and all his views of domestic happiness were
overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the
disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those
pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their
vice. He was fond of the country and of books; and from these tastes had
arisen his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise in-
debted, than as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement.
This is not the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe
to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true
philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.
Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her fa-
ther's behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but respect-
ing his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, she
endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to banish from her
thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which,
in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly rep-
rehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the disadvantages
which must attend the children of so unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so
fully aware of the evils arising from so ill-judged a direction of talents; tal-
ents, which, rightly used, might at least have preserved the respectability of
his daughters, even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.
When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham's departure she found little
other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties abroad
were less varied than before, and at home she had a mother and sister whose
constant repinings at the dullness of everything around them threw a real
gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty might in time regain her
natural degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were removed, her
other sister, from whose disposition greater evil might be apprehended, was
likely to be hardened in all her folly and assurance by a situation of such
double danger as a watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore,
she found, what has been sometimes found before, that an event to which
she had been looking with impatient desire did not, in taking place, bring all
the satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to
name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity—to have
some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by
again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present,
and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes was now the
object of her happiest thoughts; it was her best consolation for all the un-
comfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother and Kitty
made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the scheme, every part
of it would have been perfect.
"But it is fortunate," thought she, "that I have something to wish for.
Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be cer-
tain. But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my sis-
ter's absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of pleasure
realised. A scheme of which every part promises delight can never be suc-
cessful; and general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of
some little peculiar vexation."
When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and very
minutely to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected,
and always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that
they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers had
attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made
her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which she would
have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a violent hurry, as
Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going off to the camp; and from her
correspondence with her sister, there was still less to be learnt—for her let-
ters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much too full of lines under the
words to be made public.
After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, good hu-
mour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything wore a
happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter came
back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. Ben-
net was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and, by the middle of June,
Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton without tears;
an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that by the fol-
lowing Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable as not to mention an
officer above once a day, unless, by some cruel and malicious arrangement
at the War Office, another regiment should be quartered in Meryton.
The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast ap-
proaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter arrived from
Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed its
extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from setting out till a
fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a month, and as
that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as they
had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and comfort they had built
on, they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted
tour, and, according to the present plan, were to go no farther northwards
than Derbyshire. In that county there was enough to be seen to occupy the
chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong
attraction. The town where she had formerly passed some years of her life,
and where they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an ob-
ject of her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth,
Dovedale, or the Peak.
Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing
the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time enough. But it was
her business to be satisfied—and certainly her temper to be happy; and all
was soon right again.
With the mention of Derbyshire there were many ideas connected. It was
impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its
owner. "But surely," said she, "I may enter his county without impunity, and
rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me."
The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass
away before her uncle and aunt's arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr.
and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at Long-
bourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two younger
boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin Jane, who was
the general favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper ex-
actly adapted her for attending to them in every way—teaching them, play-
ing with them, and loving them.
The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next
morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One enjoy-
ment was certain—that of suitableness of companions; a suitableness which
comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences—cheerfulness to
enhance every pleasure—and affection and intelligence, which might sup-
ply it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad.
It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire, nor of
any of the remarkable places through which their route thither lay; Oxford,
Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc. are sufficiently known.
A small part of Derbyshire is all the present concern. To the little town of
Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner's former residence, and where she had
lately learned some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after
having seen all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles
of Lambton, Elizabeth found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It
was not in their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. In talking
over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an inclination
to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his willingness, and Elizabeth
was applied to for her approbation.
"My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so
much?" said her aunt; "a place, too, with which so many of your acquain-
tances are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know."
Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Pemberley,
and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She must own that
she was tired of seeing great houses; after going over so many, she really
had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.
Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. "If it were merely a fine house richly
furnished," said she, "I should not care about it myself; but the grounds are
delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country."
Elizabeth said no more—but her mind could not acquiesce. The possibili-
ty of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly occurred. It
would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea, and thought it would be
better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this
there were objections; and she finally resolved that it could be the last re-
source, if her private inquiries to the absence of the family were un-
favourably answered.
Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid
whether Pemberley were not a very fine place? what was the name of its
proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for the
summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question—and her
alarms now being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosi-
ty to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the next morn-
ing, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper
air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. To
Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.
PART 3
