Chapter 16

Chapter 16

As no objection was made to the young people's engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins's scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle's invitation, and was then in the house. When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much gratification; but when Mrs. Philips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its proprietor, when she had listened to the description of only one of Lady Catherine's drawing-rooms, and found that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison with the housekeeper's room. 

In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode and the improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Philips a very attentive listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantlepiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach; and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of the -----shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party; but Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and walk, as they were superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips, breathing port wine, who followed them into the room. 

Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. 

With such rivals for the notice of the fair, as Mr. Wickham and the officers, Mr. Collins seemed likely to sink into insignificance; to the young ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind listener in Mrs. Philips, and was, by her watchfulness, most abundantly supplied with coffee and muffin. 

When the card tables were placed, he had an opportunity of obliging her in return, by sitting down to whist. 

"I know little of the game, at present," said he, "but I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation of life --" Mrs. Philips was very thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason. 

Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there seemed danger of Lydia's engrossing him entirely for she was a most determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets and exclaiming after prizes, to have attention for any one in particular. Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told, the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity however was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in an hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there. 

"About a month," said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand." 

"Yes," replied Wickham; -- "his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself -- for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy." 

Elizabeth could not but look surprised. 

"You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. -- Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?" 

"As much as I ever wish to be," cried Elizabeth warmly, -- "I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable." 

"I have no right to give my opinion," said Wickham, "as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and to well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish -- and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. -- Here you are in your own family." 

"Upon my word I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Every body is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by any one." 

"I cannot pretend to be sorry," said Wickham, after a short interruption, "that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chuses to be seen."

"I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man." Wickham only shook his head. 

"I wonder," said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, "whether he is likely to be in this country much longer." 

"I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ----shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood." 

"Oh! no -- it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim to all the world; a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him any thing and every thing, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father." 

Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented farther inquiry. 

Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter especially, with gentle but very intelligible gallantry. 

"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society," he added, "which was my chief inducement to enter the ----shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me farther by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession -- I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now." 

"Indeed!" 

"Yes -- the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere." 

"Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth; "but how could that be? -- How could his will be disregarded? -- Why did not you seek legal redress?" 

"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it -- or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short any thing or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done any thing to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me." 

"This is quite shocking! -- He deserves to be publicly disgraced." 

"Some time or other he will be -- but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him." 

Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them. 

"But what," said she after a pause, "can have been his motive? -- what can have induced him to behave so cruelly?" 

"A thorough, determined dislike of me -- a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me, irritated him I believe very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood -- the sort of preference which was often given me." 

"I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this -- though I have never liked him, I had not thought so very ill of him -- I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this!" 

After a few minutes reflection, however, she continued, "I do remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful." 

"I will not trust myself on the subject," replied Wickham, "I can hardly be just to him." 

Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, "To treat in such a manner, the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!" -- She could have added, "A young man too, like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable" -- but she contented herself with "And one, too, who had probably been his own companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!" 

"We were born in the same parish, within the same park, the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Philips, appears to do so much credit to -- but he gave up every thing to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged. himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendance, and when immediately before my father's death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of affection to myself." 

"How strange!" cried Elizabeth. "How abominable! -- I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! -- If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest, -- for dishonesty I must call it." 

"It is wonderful," -- replied Wickham, -- "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; -- and pride has often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me, there were stronger impulses even than pride." 

"Can such abominable pride as his, have ever done him good?" 

"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, -- to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers." 

"What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy,?" 

He shook his head. -- "I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother, -- very, very proud. -- As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education." 

After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying, 

"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? -- Do you know Mr. Bingley?" 

"Not at all." 

"He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is." 

"Probably not; -- but Mr. Darcy can please where he chuses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich, he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable, -- allowing something for fortune and figure." 

The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. -- The usual inquiries as to his success were made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point; but when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance, that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not make herself uneasy. 

"I know very well, madam," said he, "that when persons sit down to a card table, they must take their chance of these things, -- and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters." 

Mr. Wickham's attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relation were very intimately acquainted with the family of de Bourgh. 

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she replied, "has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long." 

"You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy." 

"No, indeed, I did not. -- I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine's connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday." 

"Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates." 

This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already self-destined to another. 

"Mr. Collins," said she, "speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman." 

"I believe her to be both in a great degree," replied Wickham; "I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who chuses that every one connected with him should have an understanding of the first class." 

Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and they continued talking together with mutual satisfaction till supper put an end to cards; and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr. Wickham's attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of Mrs. Philips's supper party, but his manners recommended him to every body. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the fish she had won, and Mr. Collins, in describing the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Philips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crouded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House. 

年轻的小姐们跟她们姨妈的约会，并没有遭受到反对。柯林斯只觉得来此作客，反而把班纳特夫妇整晚丢在家里，未免有些过意不去，可是他们叫他千万不要放在心上。于是他和他的五个表妹便乘着马车，准时到了麦里屯。小姐们一走进客厅，就听说韦翰先生接受了她们姨爹的邀请，而且已经驾到，觉得很是高兴。

大家听到这个消息之后，便都坐了下来。柯林斯先生悠闲自在地朝四下望望，瞻仰瞻仰一切；屋子的尺寸和里面的家具使他十分惊羡，他说他好象进了咖苔琳夫人在罗新斯的那间消夏的小饭厅。这个比喻开头并不怎么叫主人家满意，可是接下来腓力普太太弄明白了罗新斯是一个什么地方，它的主人是谁，又听他说起咖苔琳夫人的一个会客间的情形，光是一只壁炉架就要值八百英镑，她这才体会到他那个譬喻实在太恭维她了，即使把她家里比作罗新斯管家奶奶的房间，她也不反对了。

柯林斯在讲述咖苔琳夫人和她公馆的富丽堂皇时，偶然还要穿插上几句话，来夸耀他自己的寒舍，说他的住宅正在装璜改善中等，他就这样自得其乐地一直扯到男客们进来为止。他发觉腓力普太太很留心听他的话，她愈听就愈把他看得了不起，而且决定一有空就把他的话传播出去。至于小姐们，实在觉得等得太久了，因为她们不高兴听她们表兄的闲扯，又没事可做，想弹弹琴又不成，只有照着壁炉架上那些瓷器的样子，漫不经心地画些小玩艺儿消遗消遗。等待的时间终于过去了，男客们来了。韦翰先生一走进来，伊丽莎白就觉得，无论是上次看见他的时候也好，从上次见面以来想起他的时候也好，她都没有错爱了他。某某郡的军官们都是一批名誉很好的绅士气派的人物，参加这次宴会的尤其是他们之中的精华。韦翰先生无论在人品上，相貌上，风度上，地位上，都远远超过他们，正如他们远远超过那位姨爹一样──瞧那位肥头大耳，大腹便便的姨爹，他正带着满口葡萄酒味，跟着他们走进屋来。

韦翰先生是当天最得意的男子，差不多每个女人的眼睛都朝着他看；伊丽莎白是当天最得意的女子，韦翰终于在她的身旁坐了下来。他马上就跟她攀谈，虽然谈的只是些当天晚上下雨和雨季可能就要到来之类的话，可是他那么和颜悦色，使她不禁感觉到即使最平凡、最无聊、最陈旧的话，只要说话的人有技巧，还是一样可以说得动听。

说起要博得女性的青眼，柯林斯先生遇到象韦翰先生和军官们这样的劲敌，真变得无足轻重了。他在小姐们眼睛里实在算不上什么，幸亏好心的腓力普太太有时候还听听他谈主，她又十分细心，尽量把咖啡和松饼敬给他吃。

一张张牌桌摆好以后，柯林斯便坐下来一同玩“惠斯脱”，总算有了一个机会报答她的好意。

他说：“我对这玩艺儿简直一窍不通，不过我很愿意把它学会，以我这样的身份来说──”腓力普太太很感激他的好意可是却不愿意听他谈论什么身份地位。

韦翰先生没有玩“惠斯脱”，因为他被小姐们高高兴兴地请到另一张桌子上去玩牌，坐在伊丽莎白和丽迪雅之间。开头的形势很叫人担忧，因为丽迪雅是个十足的健谈家，大有把他独占下来的可能；好在她对于摸奖也同样爱好，立刻对那玩艺儿大感兴趣，一股劲儿下注，得奖之后又大叫大嚷，因此就无从特别注意到某一个人身上去了。韦翰先生一面跟大家应付这玩艺儿，一面从容不迫地跟伊丽莎白谈话。伊丽莎白很愿意听他说话，很想了解一下他和达西先生过去的关系，可是她要听的他未必肯讲。于是她提也不敢提到那位先生。后来出人意料之外，韦翰先生竟自动地谈到那个问题上去了。因此她的好奇心到底还是得到了满足。韦翰先生问起尼日斐花园离开麦里屯有多远。她回答了他以后，他又吞吞吐吐地问起达西先生已经在那儿待了多久。

伊丽莎白说：“大概有一个月了。”为了不愿意让这个话题放松过去，她又接着说：“据我所知，他是德比郡一个大财主。”

“是的，”韦翰回答道。“他的财产很可观──每年有一万镑的净收入。说起这方面，谁也没有我知道得确实，因为我从小就和他家里有特别的关系。”

伊丽莎白不禁显出诧异的神气。

“班纳特小姐，你昨天也许看到我们见面时那种冷冰冰的样子了吧，难怪你听了我的话会觉得诧异。你同达西先生很熟吗？”

“我也只希望跟他这么熟就够了，”伊丽莎白冒火地叫道。“我和他在一起待了四天，觉得他很讨厌。”

韦翰说：“他究竟讨人喜欢还是讨人厌，我可没有权利说出我的意见。我不便发表意见。我认识他太久，跟他也处得太熟，因此很难做个公正的判断人。我不可能做到大公无私。不过我敢说，你对他的看法大致可以说是骇人听闻的，或许你在别的地方就不会说得这样过火吧。这儿都是你自己人呢。”

“老实说，除了在尼日斐花以外，我到附近任何人家去都会这样说。哈福德郡根本就没有人喜欢他。他那副傲慢的气派，哪一个见了都讨厌。你绝不会听到人家说他一句好话。”

歇了一会儿，韦翰说：“说句问心无愧的话，不管是他也好，是别人也好，都不应该受到人家过分的抬举。不过他这个人，我相信不大会有人过分抬举他的。他的有钱有势蒙蔽了天下人的耳目，他那目空一切、盛气凌人的气派又吓坏了天下人，弄得大家只有顺着他的心意去看待他。”