[Illustration]

Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that,
instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for
the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived
him. He now wished it more than ever. Had he done his duty in that
respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever of
honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of
prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to
be her husband might then have rested in its proper place.

He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone
should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law; and he
was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance,
and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could.

When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly
useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join
in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow
and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters
successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs.
Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he
would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too
late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her
husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their
income.

Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and
the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the
latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with
regard to Lydia at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet
could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him. In
terms of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though
expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect
approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the
engagements that had been made for him. He had never before supposed
that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would be
done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present
arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser, by the
hundred that was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket
allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her
through her mother’s hands, Lydia’s expenses had been very little within
that sum.

That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was
another very welcome surprise; for his chief wish at present was to have
as little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports
of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he
naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was soon
despatched; for though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick in
its execution. He begged to know further particulars of what he was
indebted to his brother; but was too angry with Lydia to send any
message to her.

The good news quickly spread through the house; and with proportionate
speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent
philosophy. To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of
conversation, had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the
happiest alternative, been secluded from the world in some distant
farm-house. But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the
good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had proceeded before from
all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit
in this change of circumstances, because with such a husband her misery
was considered certain.

It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs, but on this
happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in
spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her
triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object of
her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of
accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those
attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and
servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a
proper situation for her daughter; and, without knowing or considering
what their income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and
importance.

“Haye Park might do,” said she, “if the Gouldings would quit it, or the
great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is
too far off. I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for
Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.”

Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the
servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said to her, “Mrs.
Bennet, before you take any, or all of these houses, for your son and
daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into _one_ house in this
neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the
imprudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.”

A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was firm: it
soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror,
that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his
daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of
affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend
it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable
resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without which her
marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all that she could believe
possible. She was more alive to the disgrace, which her want of new
clothes must reflect on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of
shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they
took place.

Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of
the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for
her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the proper
termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its
unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the
spot.

She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his means. There were
few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended;
but at the same time there was no one whose knowledge of a sister’s
frailty would have mortified her so much. Not, however, from any fear of
disadvantage from it individually to herself; for at any rate there
seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been
concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that
Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family, where to every other
objection would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest
kind with the man whom he so justly scorned.

From such a connection she could not wonder that he should shrink. The
wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his
feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a
blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she
hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no
longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there
seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that
she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they
should meet.

What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the
proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago would now
have been gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she
doubted not, as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal,
there must be a triumph.

She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in
disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and
temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It
was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease
and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved;
and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she must
have received benefit of greater importance.

But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what
connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and
precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their
family.

How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence she
could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could belong to
a couple who were only brought together because their passions were
stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.

Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s
acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurances of his eagerness to
promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties
that the subject might never be mentioned to him again. The principal
purport of his letter was to inform them, that Mr. Wickham had resolved
on quitting the militia.

“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as his
marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree with me, in
considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his
account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into the
Regulars; and, among his former friends, there are still some who are
able and willing to assist him in the army. He has the promise of an
ensigncy in General----’s regiment, now quartered in the north. It is
an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He
promises fairly; and I hope among different people, where they may each
have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have
written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements,
and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham
in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have
pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying
similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin
a list, according to his information? He has given in all his debts; I
hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions, and
all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment,
unless they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs.
Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she
leaves the south. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to
you and her mother.--Yours, etc.

“E. GARDINER.”

Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham’s
removal from the ----shire, as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But
Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia’s being settled in
the north, just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her
company, for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in
Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment; and, besides, it was such a
pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted
with everybody, and had so many favourites.

“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking
to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she
likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General----’s
regiment.”

His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being
admitted into her family again, before she set off for the north,
received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth, who
agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and
consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents,
urged him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her
and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was
prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished. And their
mother had the satisfaction of knowing, that she should be able to show
her married daughter in the neighbourhood, before she was banished to
the north. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he
sent his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that, as soon
as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth
was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme;
and, had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him
would have been the last object of her wishes.




[Illustration:

“With an affectionate smile”

[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]