Chapter 14 ~ Particular Regard
5 Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him? 6 But you have dishonored the poor man. Are not the rich the ones who oppress you, and the ones who drag you into court? 7 Are they not the ones who blaspheme the honorable name by which you were called? 8 If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself," you are doing well. (James 2:5-8, ESV)
1 The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the LORD. 2 All the ways of a man are pure in his own eyes, but the LORD weighs the spirit. 3 Commit your work to the LORD, and your plans will be established. 4 The LORD has made everything for its purpose, even the wicked for the day of trouble. 18 Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. (Proverbs 16:1-4 18, ESV)
A fortnight before Christmas, Miss Bingley's second letter arrived. The first sentence penned in her fair flowing hand assured Jane they were 'all quite settled in London for the winter.' The concluding flourishes expressed her brother's regret for 'having missed the opportunity to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire' before he left the country. Every bitter line was sweetened with affectionate encouragements and tender hopes for a joyous Christmas, but for Jane hope ended with that letter. If her friend's words did not convince her the gentleman's actions certainly had. Her gentle heart was badly bruised. She had not known him quite enough to suffer a truly broken heart but to a girl who had endured very little suffering and never any rejection at all it was a terrible blow. The amiable, charming and good natured Mr. Bingley was everything she had previously dreamed of; her handsome prince had come and he had won her affections. There the story should have ended.
"I have nothing either to hope or fear. A little time therefore -- I shall certainly try to get the better." With a stronger voice she soon added, "I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to any one but myself."
"My dear Jane!" exclaimed Elizabeth, "you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you."
"You say so because you love me, but I am not so different from anyone else"
"Nay," said Elizabeth, "this is not fair. You wish to think well of all the world, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it even forbidding me the comfort of shaming callous young men who can- "
"I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by telling me that your opinion of him – of them both – is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect lively young men to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is nothing but our own vanity that deceived us. Women sometimes fancy admiration means more than it does."
"And men take care that they should. For your sake I will make no assumptions about Mr. Bingley, however, Mr. Darcy cannot be excused. My heart was not engaged, but I was led to hope that he was sincerely seeking to obtain it. In truth he may have been very sincere but only to feed his vanity. He did acknowledge that he was vain. It seems a little thing to him but if I had believed myself in love what pain he would have caused with so little thought."
"If it was designedly done, Mr. Darcy cannot be justified; but I have no idea of there being so much design in the world. Who can accuse Mr. Bingley of scheming? He is too unguarded – too open."
"I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley's behaviour to design, his friend however must answer for his own conduct." said Elizabeth. "And yet, without scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, Mr. Bingley did err. Our friends, neighbours and family, by trusting in his behaviour, encouraged you and by speaking so confidently of his affection, we have added to your misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people's feelings, and want of resolution, were perhaps his only failings, the rest of us were misled by our partiality and presumption. His sisters I fear had other motives."
"You persist, then, in supposing they influence him. I cannot believe it. They can only wish for his happiness."
"Your premise is false. They may wish many things besides his happiness; they may wish him to marry for money and better connexions."
"What sister would think herself at liberty to do it? If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing it, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. Allow me to take it in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood."
Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time the subject was scarcely mentioned between them.
Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and to repine that Mr. Bingley had not yet returned, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not endeavour to convince her not to speak of it for Jane's sake, she had the same conversation to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet's would attempt to make amends and comforted her eldest daughter by saying that Mr. Bingley must soon come again, to which remark Jane made herself smile and nod before returning to her work. Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently.
"So, Lizzy," said he one day, "your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction among her companions. What of you? You must not be outdone by Mary and Jane. Did you not suffer also? I had a hint that Mr. Darcy was very attentive to you."
"We must not all expect Jane's good fortune. Mr. Darcy's attentions were merely the effect of his own vanity. He wished to make me like him and treat him as most ladies do. I remained impertinent instead and he grew bored. He was entertaining, and believing him to be sincere I was not opposed to the idea, but I was not yet in love. Mr. Darcy tried and failed where Mr. Bingley without intending harm succeeded."
Mr. Bennet was relieved, but answered lightly, "When you do decide to indulge yourself with a little heartbreak, it is a comfort to think that you have an affectionate mother who can be relied on to keep your disappointment from being forgot."
Mr. Wickham's society was of material service in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on some of the Longbourn family. They saw him often, and his manner had acquired a touch of general pleasantness. He was by no means cheerful but he was less stiff, less formal and added to his other recommendations his presence forced Jane into conversation. At first she wanted to avoid the appearance of being out of spirits and eventually she was participating out of habit so that even within their own family party Jane would not sit in silent reverie. Thus the week preceding Christmas crept unremarkably by.
On the following Monday, two days before Christmas, Mr. Gardiner a sensible, gentlemanlike man, and his elegant young wife arrived at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was greeted by his sister very cordially but he soon allowed her husband to draw him away from the noise of the ladies and into the library. Uncle and aunt were both great favourites with their Longbourn nieces, however, the young ladies were very pleased to have their aunt in the sitting room to describe London fashions and their cousins' most recent mischief.
Her sister-in-law allowed her to speak for several minutes but impatient to share her own news and to be patted and pitied by her brother's wife she took her first opportunity of changing the conversation. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister.
"I do not blame Jane," she continued, "for Jane would have got Mr. Bingley if she could. But Mary! oh, sister! it is very hard to think that she might have been Mr. Collins's wife by this time, had not it been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever."
Mrs. Gardiner made her sister a slight answer, and in compassion to her nieces, turned the conversation. Between the two eldest and herself especially there subsisted a very particular regard. They had frequently been staying with her in town. The three of them conversed a little before tea. Jane and Elizabeth joined her as she aired her dresses. As they examined and admired each gown more of the story of the gentlemen from Netherfield was disclosed. Wishing to learn more on the subject but concerned that she may cause Jane some pain by inquiring further she decided to talk seriously with Elizabeth when next she had her alone. They were the first at breakfast the next day and she introduced the subject.
"It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane," said she. "I am sorry it went off. And your young man too! I am very sorry to hear that he is so unlike his father. I seem to recall once hearing from my friends in Derbyshire Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy described as a very vain, ill-natured boy. But these sort of inconstancies happen so often! Young men, such as you describe Mr. Darcy and his friend, so easily fall in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and when accident separates them, as easily forget her."
"An excellent consolation in its way," said Elizabeth, "but it will not do for us. We do not suffer by accident. I believe Mr. Darcy wished to create an affection that he would never return. That I was preserved from heartache was a blessing. Mr. Bingley was too open for that sort of deceit. It was the interference of his sister and perhaps his friend that persuaded Mr. Bingley, a young man of independent fortune, to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before."
"Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. But do you think she can be prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service – and perhaps a little relief from home, may be as useful as anything."
Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and believed that Jane would be very glad to be away from her neighbours' pity and her mother's complaints. That she would go where she was valued and where she would enjoy sensible conversations with her aunt and uncle. The eager affection of her young cousins must be healing to her wounded heart.
"I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, "that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connexions are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her. Does not Jane correspond with the sister? I suppose she will not be able to help calling and is she likely to bring him?"
"Oh that is quite impossible; Miss Bingley would not call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? She will drop the acquaintance entirely."
Elizabeth's confidence on this point was of course pretense. It was not unlikely that Miss Bingley would call, and perhaps her brother would follow. These imaginings were uncertain possibilities but a happy reunion for Jane and Mr. Bingley was not entirely hopeless. Miss Bennet accepted her aunt's invitation with pleasure; and the Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the time than as she wished she might occasionally spend a morning with Caroline without any danger of seeing him.
The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement. When the party was to be at home, Mr. Wickham was sure to be included. Mrs. Gardiner, became suspicious after hearing Elizabeth's warm commendation of him and she narrowly observed them both. His preference for her niece was plain enough to make her uneasy; Elizabeth's feelings were less obvious and she resolved to speak to her on the subject before she left Hertfordshire. On their last evening during Mary's seemingly endless sonata she took Elizabeth aside, held her hand gently, and quietly represented to her the imprudence of encouraging the curate's affectionate interest. Her niece was visibly amused and in a whisper explained,
"Mr. Wickham kindly warned me of Mr. Darcy's true character and circumstances have proved him correct. He acted as a true friend and deserves some gratitude. He may look at me, but it is only absence of mind, there is no admiration I am sure of it. You need not be under any alarm. But really aunt you need not fear. I know that I vex him exceedingly."
Smiling, with her mouth tilted mistrustfully, Mrs. Gardiner looked a warning that Elizabeth did not miss.
"You have put me on my guard. I will be more circumspect; he shall not be in love with me, if I can prevent it." Her aunt was satisfied and they rejoined the others to listen once again to Mary as she performed for their guests.
After Christmas the Gardiners returned to London taking Jane away with them, and the very next week Mr. Collins married Charlotte Lucas. The bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the church door, this might suggest a speedy exit but of course, though Charlotte Collins was leaving her home and her neighbours she bid them all a suitable farewell and waited patiently for her husband. Mr. Collins had his gratitude to offer, his compliments to pay, and sighs of contentment to express on the joys of the married state, which all took considerable time. At last he was prepared to join his lady love, the door of the chaise that would carry them to London was opened and he was halfway inside when he saw his cousin Mary standing with her father. He stopped, desiring a final farewell to Mr. Bennet and, feeling very gracious, he wished to comfort Miss Mary with a hope that one day she might meet someone who could bring her as much happiness as his dear Charlotte brought him. When he stepped down to scurry towards Mr. Bennet, his apologies for not taking his leave of them first already on his lips, the chaise – now relieved of his weight bounced and the door closed again with a loud thwack. Before he could begin to make Mary regret him, which was his unacknowledged motive, the carriage was happily making its way to London without the groom. He immediately turned to run after his bride. The coach was thankfully alerted before it had travelled half a mile and Mr. Collins at last was carried away from Meryton.
Mr. Bennet could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning, and he and Mary observed the spectacle with a remarkable similarity of feeling.