Chapter 8 ~Rainy Days
16 For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. 17 But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. 18 And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace. (James 3:16-18, ESV)
12 Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life. 16 Every prudent man acts with knowledge, but a fool flaunts his folly. 17 A wicked messenger falls into trouble, but a faithful envoy brings healing. 18 Poverty and disgrace come to him who ignores instruction, but whoever heeds reproof is honored. 19 A desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul, but to turn away from evil is an abomination to fools. 20 Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm. (Proverbs 13:12, 16-20, ESV)
It was not until the next day that Elizabeth had a chance to tell Jane what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane could not easily believe all that Mr. Wickham's warning implied. It was unthinkable for Mr. Bingley to be friends with anyone so unworthy as Mr. Darcy was reported to be. Yet to question the veracity of a respectable clergyman was not in her nature. The possibility of Mr. Wickham having really endured neglect could earn her pity and the possibility of a younger Mr. Darcy behaving ill need not be entirely dismissed. However, it was probable that he had become a better man since Mr. Wickham had known him. Nothing therefore remained to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise explained.
"They may have both been deceived,"said she, "in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. That would explain Mr. Darcy's refusal to acknowledge his old friend. It is possible something that appeared wrong to Mr. Wickham was in fact an innocent misunderstanding. His strict opinions may very naturally mislead him. 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 in 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, who has all but made you an offer. 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. If it was invention he may perhaps write for the penny papers. What motive would he have for the story of his past? Besides, there was truth in his concern over the morality of speaking to me of it at all. Does that not make him seem sincere?"
"It is difficult indeed -- it is distressing. One does not know what to think. Could he be self deceived? Think you that it might be jealousy?"
"Mr. Wickham does not seem overly concerned with worldly riches – "
"It is not Mr. Darcy's property that I suppose him to be envious of. Have you never wondered why he looks at you so often? Why he was so eager to engage you in conversation last evening. I do not suppose him to be purposefully misleading you but his heart has perhaps mislead him."
"Do not be ridiculous Jane. He disapproves of me."
"Then why did he trouble himself to warn you against Mr. Darcy's character?"
"I do not know, loyalty to father? I suppose that does give me reason to doubt. I must be very careful. I will not allow Mr. Darcy to draw me aside. If he wishes to talk of marriage I will direct him to my father. I will be very prim and see how he responds to it. As for Mr. Wickham, I suppose I will understand him when I learn more of Mr. Darcy. I will be cautious with both gentlemen."
The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the arrival of Mr. Bingley and his sisters. They came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following 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.
To have a ball to anticipate and a private ball especially, to know that your presence is important enough to the host and his household that they invite your family personally, can only be delightful to the object of such civility. Jane was all blushing pleasure and the distressing conversation she had concluded so recently was all but forgotten. Who can think of the hay and stubble you have left behind you when lilies and roses are before you? Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother.
She was not alone in her pleasure for the prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as expressly given in compliment to Jane, and was very pleased to have the chance of boasting to her friends that they had been invited by Mr. Bingley himself. This was a distinction of intimacy that she considered placed her well beyond the guests who would have only a ceremonious card. The elation experienced by Catherine and Lydia had nothing whatsoever to do with its host, dancing music and officers were sufficient attractions; a ball was, after all, a ball. Even Mary could assure her family that she had no disinclination for it. Picturing herself on Mr. Wickham's arm and hoping no one suspected her wishes, she coyly announced:
"While I can have my mornings to myself, it is enough -- I think it no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody."
Mr. Collins smiled in approval. Elizabeth's feelings were a jumble of pleasure and pain, hope and fear, shame and expectation. She dared not let it show and instead she turned to her cousin. It can only be assumed that in her confusion of spirits she knew not what she did – she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins,
"I wonder sir if you intend to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation? Would you think it proper for a clergyman to join in the evening's amusement?"
Mary blushed and observing it Mr. Collins preened when he responded,
"I have no scruple whatever on that head, and am very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to dance. I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you, 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 Mary, for the two first dances especially -- a preference which I trust my cousins will attribute to the right cause."
Mary felt completely surprised. She had fully proposed being engaged by Mr. Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins instead! There was no help for it, however. Mr. Wickham's happiness and her own was per force delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins's proposal accepted with as good a grace as she could manage. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck her that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his frequent compliments on her knowledge and character. She could not, upon reflection, think it astonishing and was rightly gratified to have her charms appreciated by a worthy gentleman however hopeless his suit. It was not long before her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage was exceedingly agreeable to her. Mary was forced to consider her duty and the ball was to decide her fate. If Mr. Wickham could converse with propriety on important subjects he would continue to hold first place in her heart. She was not at all certain that by not doing so he would lose it, but it would become a possibility.
Four days of rain followed, there were no visits to make or to receive and the young ladies were forced to create their own amusements. They spent Friday discussing dresses and finding slippers. On Saturday they sent a boy to purchase shoe roses and tried to instruct him how to select those that would not unravel and showed him bits of fabric to match that left him only more confused when he went into Meryton. It was to everyone's benefit that the milliner herself was ready to sell her best quality roses to her best customers. The Bennet ladies by being so many purchased more than any other family and were provided with the best roses her shop could offer. While their relieved messenger kept their purchases dry, the younger ladies entertained themselves with cards and quarrelling. Their eldest sister sewed with a dreamy expression on her pretty face and Elizabeth wavered between reading and fretting. As for Mary, unwilling to encourage her cousin, she remained occupied by practicing most diligently on the pianoforte.
The other members of the household had their own troubles. Mrs. Bennet fussed over or boasted about or scolded them all by turns. Not even the library was safe from her busy agitation and because neither she nor his cousin could be silent Mr. Bennet, having endured enough noise, entreated Mr. Collins to entertain his wife. This he was perfectly happy to do and kept her so well entertained with talk of the granduer of Rosings that she gave her daughters little trouble for the rest of the day. Sunday came and the rain continued in slow steady drops. The family slogged through the disagreeable weather to the church but not even Mary wished to linger. Only Monday was left to be endured and dresses were inspected again for any wrinkles or spots. A sudden inspiration took hold of Kitty to alter her trimmings and Lydia was caught attempting to alter the fit of her bodice. At last Tuesday arrived dry and sunny and full of promise.