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More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. On the first such occasion she felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! On both occasions it was not merely a few formal enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.
True to her resolve, she made an effort to draw him from silence since it seemed that, if left to himself, he would never say a great deal. On that first meeting, her efforts met with little success until she asked him to speak of Pemberley.
“Of what would you have me speak, Miss Bennet?”
“Of whatever gives you the most pleasure, Mr. Darcy. The grounds, the walks, views, the house. I know nothing of it and anything you share would advance my knowledge and understanding.”
To this he was readily agreeable and they spent the remainder of their walk conversing about his estate and the beauties of the Derbyshire countryside, of his sister and her enjoyment of music and of some of those responsibilities which were his. With simple questions she prompted his thoughts and, without becoming too aware of what was happening, found her interest in the subject growing apace. The love and understanding of his home and of his sister that he so clearly, and perhaps inadvertently, expressed could not but improve her opinion of the gentleman and it was with a slight regret that she realized the parsonage was in sight and their walk to end.
Their second encounter was much as the first and, if she had thought their first to have been an accident, she could not do so any longer. That Mr. Darcy had deliberately sought her out with the intention of joining her walk was almost impossible to deny. That thought rendered her silent for the first few minutes as she thought about her response. Should she attempt to dissuade his interest? She could do so, she thought, with relative ease. Did she want to do so? That question was less easy to answer. Already she had come to the conclusion that her perception, her sketch of Mr. Darcy’s character was flawed. There was much to admire of the man; and much to censure. If she was to dissuade him, that sketch would remain flawed and whether that was a good or a bad result she could not answer to but to be satisfied with a poorly completed effort offended her pride.
She finally sensed that Mr. Darcy was becoming a little uneasy at her continued silence and jested with him, “Do not be alarmed, Mr. Darcy. I once told you that I had such varying reports of you as to confuse me exceedingly. I remember you advising me not to attempt to sketch your character at that time since the performance would not do justice to either of us. I fear you were correct. I have resolved to attempt a new sketch and need your cooperation, sir!”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, Miss Bennet. How may I assist you?”
Elizabeth laughed at his rather teasing response and the relaxation in his countenance. It almost appeared that he was smiling although she could not be sure since his face was turned slightly away from her. When he did deign to look at her, she could not help but notice the intensity of his gaze and neither could she believe that it was censorious. Quite the reverse in fact! And realized that she had most likely misunderstood his actions from the very first. This thought was so unsettling as to discompose her severely and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she replied mentioning a book that she had recently finished reading, inquiring into whether he had done so and, upon learning he had indeed read it, seeking his opinions upon it. Their discourse was lively and meandered through several books that both had read. Their opinions varied but the ability of each to express those opinions in a pleasing and intelligent fashion did not. It could not be supposed that they agreed in every particular. In fact, the opposite was very much the case, but neither was inclined to discount the contrary opinion of the other and their disagreements were as pleasurable and respectful as their agreements. Before they parted she gave him to understand that it was her preference to walk at a particular hour every morning that the weather would allow and, while not actively seeking company, she was far from averse to enjoying it.
Once returned to the parsonage, Elizabeth knew she could not put off any longer a careful consideration of Mr. Darcy. His attentions were, she could now see, quite clear. It was impossible to suppose that he had met with her twice on her walks by accident. She could not be sure of his intent. Was he thinking of offering for her? Or was this the casual interest of a gentleman with little other activities to engage him. If it had been Colonel Fitzwilliam, she might believe it to be so since his manner was invariably genial but Mr. Darcy had never, to her knowledge, behaved so. His amiability these last few days was beyond anything she had previously encountered and indeed she had not thought it possible of him. That he was intelligent and possessed of a well informed mind she had early recognized; that he would be willing to engage her with it was unexpected and, if she had been previously disposed to think of him as condescending when he did so, she could not now detect any such attitude in his manner to her.
He was, she now knew, a very complex man. Of his pride and his disdain for those not of his close acquaintance she had ample evidence and could not approve. That he objected to her family, its behaviour and the poverty of its connections she could well believe; and, if she agreed with him that her family was all too eager to display its impropriety, it was not something that she could control nor would she deny her attachment to them because of it. His failure, and she could not conceive of a better description, to act against Mr. Wickham appeared to show clearly his disdain for her neighbours by not preventing or limiting the harm he inflicted on them. That he would not act to protect her sisters from what she believed to be a practiced seducer suggested that his approbation extended only to her who, since he believed her to recognize Mr. Wickham’s nature, to be in no danger. And yet when pressed to justify his lack of action, he had appeared somewhat embarrassed but not so much as to offer a reason for his actions. While she could believe his motives derived solely from disdain, she believed him to be an honourable man and such actions would seem contrary to his character. Her frustration at the contradiction was great indeed but it was not a subject she felt ready to canvas him for an answer.
The manner of his attentions to her were also a puzzle. He had paid her little attention in Hertfordshire although his gaze could now be seen as an indication of his interest rather than derision. However, apart from asking her to dance at the Netherfield Ball, he had shown little interest. In fact, quite the reverse on many occasions – she had sat with him in the Netherfield library for a full half hour without him speaking anything but the barest civilities. And then, he had taken his leave of Hertfordshire, without warning – as though he could not depart quickly enough for his liking. He had been at Rosings a week - during which the Colonel called at the parsonage several times - without visiting. Even now, it took some effort on her part to engage his interest in conversation. If she had not made the effort, she thought they might complete the whole walk with little more than a dozen words exchanged.
Of her own feeling she was equally uncertain. That she no longer despised him as she once did, she could accept. In learning more of his character, his good qualities were more apparent; however, she was unsure if she actually liked him. Those characteristics of prideful arrogance and disdain could not recommend him to her. Would he offer for her? She rather thought it unlikely. Not as impossible as she once believed but certainly unlikely, very unlikely. Would she accept such an offer? She could not see how that would be possible. Her own experience of marital felicity was not one she wished to emulate. Her father’s behaviour toward her mother was abhorrent to her. Attracted to a woman of beauty but mean intelligence, his manner towards her revealed a degree of contempt that she could not wish to experience from her husband. Given Mr. Darcy’s nature, could she believe that his affection for her would long survive in the face of his disdain for the poverty of her connections? The wealth and status that would accompany such a marriage would be poor compensation for a lifetime of misery that would ensue if such were the case. No, she did not believe he would offer for her but, if he did, could she allow herself to accept? Prudent she was willing to be; but to accept in the knowledge that she would be miserable was not prudence but mercenary and she thought too well of herself to be willing to endure such a life. She smiled to herself at the thought of her mother’s reaction should she learn of Mr. Darcy’s attentions and her daughter’s unwillingness to accept an offer of marriage should it be made. Her lamentations would reached new heights and Elizabeth suspected she would have to flee to her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for relief and her stay there would be of no short duration.
Armed with the knowledge of her habit of walking at a regular time, Mr. Darcy became a frequent companion and their comfort with each other increased apace, albeit, slowly. Their conversations flowed a little more freely and Mr. Darcy was, as far as she could determine, more open in his manner. Certainly he was an engaging participant and it their conversations were, for the most part, light and insubstantial, they also proved convivial. Not all their conversations were lighthearted and she was to tease him on more than one occasion about his behaviour in Hertfordshire. Once they had been discussing Bingley’s amiability and Elizabeth had cause to think of Darcy’s behaviour. She forced herself to consider her next words carefully, since he could easily be offended by them. After a few moments, she felt she had to proceed - the issue would not disappear after all – and said in as neutral a tone as possible as she probed, “Are you aware of how you were viewed in Hertfordshire?”
“I think I am now although I truly gave it very little consideration at the time.”
“Are you aware that your manner led them and myself to believe that you felt us as unworthy of your attention or consideration? That we were beneath your notice perhaps?”
Under her hand she could feel his arm tensing and she saw a severe cast come over his countenance as he mastered his emotions. He also strove to match her dispassionate tones as he replied, “I have lately forced myself, if you will, to reconsider the whole of my time there. Was it really so dreadful?”
“Yes. They were prepared to welcome you into their homes and did so. It seemed to them, and myself, the expression of your countenance gave us all to believe that you found no pleasure in our company and that it was most distasteful. You made no effort to hide your opinion of all of us.”
“My recollections of my behaviour have grown only more unhappy, Miss Bennet, I assure you.” His sombre mien remained for much of that walk despite her efforts to lighten the mood once more; and if he did not appear the following day, he did join her a day later his mood strangely altered and imbued, she thought, with an increased desire to be pleasing and attentive. That she had felt the loss of his company the previous day, she admitted to herself and wondered at such a reaction. Could her opinion of the gentleman be changing?
It struck her in the course of their most recent rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions - about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. If she had not discerned his interest in her, she might well have believed him to have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts and might have supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. However her responses to his inquiries, which she realized were not disconnected at all, were composed. She admitted to an appreciation of Hunsford insofar as the walks were concerned, to pleasure in her friend’s company, the opportunity to make a new acquaintance in the Colonel and to improve an acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. Left unsaid was the lack of any pleasure to be found in the company of Mr. Collins or in his aunt, Lady Catherine. Of the happiness of the Collinses, she was reluctant to say much other than to articulate, with some caution – fearful of bringing on those addresses which she thought he might harbour -, her belief that a marriage not based on mutual esteem and respect would be distasteful to herself and, with a cautious glance at Mr. Darcy, to her sister Jane. Of the possibility of visiting Rosings she was not prepared to say much other than to admit of its possibility although she believed it unlikely that she would visit her friend again for several years.
It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage. Charlotte was not so engaged in her household duties as to be unaware of her friend’s discomposure and followed her as she mounted the stairs to her room. Asking for and receiving permission to enter she found Elizabeth ensconced in the armchair by her window, wrapped in a light blanket – while spring was upon the land, the days remained cool and the parsonage far from overheated. Elizabeth smiled and raised her eyebrow in the questioning look that her friend had come to know so very well.
“It seemed to me, Eliza, that you were…discomposed when you came back from your walk. Did something happen?”
Elizabeth was silent for several minutes wondering if she could or should seek counsel from her friend. If Jane were here, she might well reveal her thoughts. Charlotte, however, had obligations which might make such confidences unwelcome and harmful to Elizabeth’s interests. Finally, she decided to see how willing Charlotte might be to preserve her confidences.
“Charlotte, I have that which I would talk with you about but would have to be kept secret from everyone, including your husband and your family. I will not burden you with them if such a pledge is…impossible for you to give.”
Elizabeth could see her friend’s face grow increasingly thoughtful. After a minute or so Charlotte asked, “How long would I have to conceal this information?”
Elizabeth considered her response, “I would think no longer than my stay here. Once I leave, I believe the need for secrecy will be gone.” And watched as her friend deliberated for several minutes before responding.
“Very well Eliza. I will honour your confidences until you leave.” She laughed, “Now what has happened? Has Mr. Darcy made you an offer of marriage?”
Elizabeth could not conceal her surprise saying, “No! No he has not…but I fear he might well do so.”
Charlotte’s amazement could not be hidden and she made little effort to do so but it quickly became apparent that it was compounded of equal parts of surprise that events had progressed to the point where her friend might expect an offer and that she ‘feared’ it being made. It was to the latter that she responded, “Fear, Eliza! I am astounded that you would say as much!” Looking at Elizabeth more closely, she blurted, “You are not thinking of refusing him. Surely not! You could not be so foolish!”
Elizabeth grimaced, “I had rather expected such a response from you Charlotte. And yes, I do not see how I can accept him.” She was inclined to expand on her thoughts but was prevented from doing so by her friend’s interjection, “Eliza, you must listen to me. I know you disagreed with my accepting the offer from Mr. Collins. That we do not think alike on matters of marriage…well, we have expressed our differing thoughts too frequently for me to wish or need to repeat them again. But there are several…thoughts, no perhaps considerations that you must think on. Will you listen and promise to give them some thought? You have extracted a promise of secrecy from me which I have given. From you I would ask a promise of listening to my thoughts and for you to consider them carefully. Will you do this?”
At her friend's slow nod, Charlotte continued, “First and most obvious, Mr. Darcy is not Mr. Collins. I know and understand why you could not accept the offer from Mr. Collins. You would have done very poorly under the eye of Lady Catherine. She has tested even my patience. Yours - I shudder to consider. Mr. Darcy is not a foolish man, he is not only respectable but intelligent and responsible. Consider if you will that he has undertaken the responsibility of raising a sister who was but ten or eleven when he was made her guardian at her father’s death. He did so at the age of two-and-twenty when most young men are engaged in frivolous activities and while having to take on the responsibilities of a great estate. You say he is proud but surely he has reason to be so given the responsibilities he must discharge. I would also point out that he has visited his aunt regularly, whose company is obviously somewhat distasteful to him and, in doing so, exposes himself to her presumptions and dictates – not that I think he will be bound by them but he could easily avoid them altogether. That he does not do so speaks well for his sense of responsibility. I might add that his manner in no way reflects that of his aunt. He has been nothing but civil to me and my husband and to you as well during his stay.”
Charlotte paused to collect her thoughts and, before Elizabeth could think to respond, continued, “I would have you think further on this, Elizabeth. I am eight-and-twenty and had to accept an offer from a man like Mr. Collins in order to secure a home and security. You are twenty and Jane, I think, three-and-twenty and still unmarried despite being one of the most beautiful women in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth could not help exclaiming, “She would be married now if it were not for the efforts of Mr. Bingley’s sisters and friend!”
“Perhaps…and perhaps not! I know you are convinced that Mr. Bingley was persuaded against an attachment but that speaks poorly for either the strength of his attachment or his resolve or both, does it not?”
Elizabeth could see her friend waiting for her to acknowledge the truth of her words and, remembering her aunt’s similar opinion, assented reluctantly – a fact which Charlotte acknowledged with a small smile.
“My point, Eliza, is that we have all reached an age where we should or could have been married – even you. The reason we are not is one that we must accept. The number of men with whom we can consider an attachment is limited and we, none of us, have the portions to attract decent men in need of such to support a wife. You have no reason to concern yourself now, Lizzy, but in five years will you be so sanguine? Can you afford to be? I know you despair of your mother’s efforts to have you married but you must admit the reality of your situation. If her efforts are somewhat misguided, the purpose should not be disparaged.” Charlotte thought of the entail problem and chose to ignore it. Her friend could easily understand that it inspired much of her mother’s efforts.
Sounds from below intruded on their consciousness and both realized that the time that could be spared for a confidential talk had ended. As Charlotte rose she offered one last plea, “I must attended below. I will say no more unless you wish to talk further. I will only ask that you honour my request and take…give careful consideration to any response you make to an offer from Mr. Darcy, should he make one.”
Receiving Elizabeth’s agreement, she quit the room leaving Elizabeth to begin the arduous task of trying to resolve her uncertainties in regards to Mr. Darcy. This task was to absorb her for much of the remainder of that day and the next and she was pleased to not have her attention distracted by visitors to the parsonage. If her distraction was of concern to the others it was not apparent and she was sure that Mr. Collins was completely insensible to the fact. When she finally closed in her eyes the next night she had, for the most part, arrived at a decision.
More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. On the first such occasion she felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! On both occasions it was not merely a few formal enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.
True to her resolve, she made an effort to draw him from silence since it seemed that, if left to himself, he would never say a great deal. On that first meeting, her efforts met with little success until she asked him to speak of Pemberley.
“Of what would you have me speak, Miss Bennet?”
“Of whatever gives you the most pleasure, Mr. Darcy. The grounds, the walks, views, the house. I know nothing of it and anything you share would advance my knowledge and understanding.”
To this he was readily agreeable and they spent the remainder of their walk conversing about his estate and the beauties of the Derbyshire countryside, of his sister and her enjoyment of music and of some of those responsibilities which were his. With simple questions she prompted his thoughts and, without becoming too aware of what was happening, found her interest in the subject growing apace. The love and understanding of his home and of his sister that he so clearly, and perhaps inadvertently, expressed could not but improve her opinion of the gentleman and it was with a slight regret that she realized the parsonage was in sight and their walk to end.
Their second encounter was much as the first and, if she had thought their first to have been an accident, she could not do so any longer. That Mr. Darcy had deliberately sought her out with the intention of joining her walk was almost impossible to deny. That thought rendered her silent for the first few minutes as she thought about her response. Should she attempt to dissuade his interest? She could do so, she thought, with relative ease. Did she want to do so? That question was less easy to answer. Already she had come to the conclusion that her perception, her sketch of Mr. Darcy’s character was flawed. There was much to admire of the man; and much to censure. If she was to dissuade him, that sketch would remain flawed and whether that was a good or a bad result she could not answer to but to be satisfied with a poorly completed effort offended her pride.
She finally sensed that Mr. Darcy was becoming a little uneasy at her continued silence and jested with him, “Do not be alarmed, Mr. Darcy. I once told you that I had such varying reports of you as to confuse me exceedingly. I remember you advising me not to attempt to sketch your character at that time since the performance would not do justice to either of us. I fear you were correct. I have resolved to attempt a new sketch and need your cooperation, sir!”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, Miss Bennet. How may I assist you?”
Elizabeth laughed at his rather teasing response and the relaxation in his countenance. It almost appeared that he was smiling although she could not be sure since his face was turned slightly away from her. When he did deign to look at her, she could not help but notice the intensity of his gaze and neither could she believe that it was censorious. Quite the reverse in fact! And realized that she had most likely misunderstood his actions from the very first. This thought was so unsettling as to discompose her severely and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she replied mentioning a book that she had recently finished reading, inquiring into whether he had done so and, upon learning he had indeed read it, seeking his opinions upon it. Their discourse was lively and meandered through several books that both had read. Their opinions varied but the ability of each to express those opinions in a pleasing and intelligent fashion did not. It could not be supposed that they agreed in every particular. In fact, the opposite was very much the case, but neither was inclined to discount the contrary opinion of the other and their disagreements were as pleasurable and respectful as their agreements. Before they parted she gave him to understand that it was her preference to walk at a particular hour every morning that the weather would allow and, while not actively seeking company, she was far from averse to enjoying it.
Once returned to the parsonage, Elizabeth knew she could not put off any longer a careful consideration of Mr. Darcy. His attentions were, she could now see, quite clear. It was impossible to suppose that he had met with her twice on her walks by accident. She could not be sure of his intent. Was he thinking of offering for her? Or was this the casual interest of a gentleman with little other activities to engage him. If it had been Colonel Fitzwilliam, she might believe it to be so since his manner was invariably genial but Mr. Darcy had never, to her knowledge, behaved so. His amiability these last few days was beyond anything she had previously encountered and indeed she had not thought it possible of him. That he was intelligent and possessed of a well informed mind she had early recognized; that he would be willing to engage her with it was unexpected and, if she had been previously disposed to think of him as condescending when he did so, she could not now detect any such attitude in his manner to her.
He was, she now knew, a very complex man. Of his pride and his disdain for those not of his close acquaintance she had ample evidence and could not approve. That he objected to her family, its behaviour and the poverty of its connections she could well believe; and, if she agreed with him that her family was all too eager to display its impropriety, it was not something that she could control nor would she deny her attachment to them because of it. His failure, and she could not conceive of a better description, to act against Mr. Wickham appeared to show clearly his disdain for her neighbours by not preventing or limiting the harm he inflicted on them. That he would not act to protect her sisters from what she believed to be a practiced seducer suggested that his approbation extended only to her who, since he believed her to recognize Mr. Wickham’s nature, to be in no danger. And yet when pressed to justify his lack of action, he had appeared somewhat embarrassed but not so much as to offer a reason for his actions. While she could believe his motives derived solely from disdain, she believed him to be an honourable man and such actions would seem contrary to his character. Her frustration at the contradiction was great indeed but it was not a subject she felt ready to canvas him for an answer.
The manner of his attentions to her were also a puzzle. He had paid her little attention in Hertfordshire although his gaze could now be seen as an indication of his interest rather than derision. However, apart from asking her to dance at the Netherfield Ball, he had shown little interest. In fact, quite the reverse on many occasions – she had sat with him in the Netherfield library for a full half hour without him speaking anything but the barest civilities. And then, he had taken his leave of Hertfordshire, without warning – as though he could not depart quickly enough for his liking. He had been at Rosings a week - during which the Colonel called at the parsonage several times - without visiting. Even now, it took some effort on her part to engage his interest in conversation. If she had not made the effort, she thought they might complete the whole walk with little more than a dozen words exchanged.
Of her own feeling she was equally uncertain. That she no longer despised him as she once did, she could accept. In learning more of his character, his good qualities were more apparent; however, she was unsure if she actually liked him. Those characteristics of prideful arrogance and disdain could not recommend him to her. Would he offer for her? She rather thought it unlikely. Not as impossible as she once believed but certainly unlikely, very unlikely. Would she accept such an offer? She could not see how that would be possible. Her own experience of marital felicity was not one she wished to emulate. Her father’s behaviour toward her mother was abhorrent to her. Attracted to a woman of beauty but mean intelligence, his manner towards her revealed a degree of contempt that she could not wish to experience from her husband. Given Mr. Darcy’s nature, could she believe that his affection for her would long survive in the face of his disdain for the poverty of her connections? The wealth and status that would accompany such a marriage would be poor compensation for a lifetime of misery that would ensue if such were the case. No, she did not believe he would offer for her but, if he did, could she allow herself to accept? Prudent she was willing to be; but to accept in the knowledge that she would be miserable was not prudence but mercenary and she thought too well of herself to be willing to endure such a life. She smiled to herself at the thought of her mother’s reaction should she learn of Mr. Darcy’s attentions and her daughter’s unwillingness to accept an offer of marriage should it be made. Her lamentations would reached new heights and Elizabeth suspected she would have to flee to her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for relief and her stay there would be of no short duration.
Armed with the knowledge of her habit of walking at a regular time, Mr. Darcy became a frequent companion and their comfort with each other increased apace, albeit, slowly. Their conversations flowed a little more freely and Mr. Darcy was, as far as she could determine, more open in his manner. Certainly he was an engaging participant and it their conversations were, for the most part, light and insubstantial, they also proved convivial. Not all their conversations were lighthearted and she was to tease him on more than one occasion about his behaviour in Hertfordshire. Once they had been discussing Bingley’s amiability and Elizabeth had cause to think of Darcy’s behaviour. She forced herself to consider her next words carefully, since he could easily be offended by them. After a few moments, she felt she had to proceed - the issue would not disappear after all – and said in as neutral a tone as possible as she probed, “Are you aware of how you were viewed in Hertfordshire?”
“I think I am now although I truly gave it very little consideration at the time.”
“Are you aware that your manner led them and myself to believe that you felt us as unworthy of your attention or consideration? That we were beneath your notice perhaps?”
Under her hand she could feel his arm tensing and she saw a severe cast come over his countenance as he mastered his emotions. He also strove to match her dispassionate tones as he replied, “I have lately forced myself, if you will, to reconsider the whole of my time there. Was it really so dreadful?”
“Yes. They were prepared to welcome you into their homes and did so. It seemed to them, and myself, the expression of your countenance gave us all to believe that you found no pleasure in our company and that it was most distasteful. You made no effort to hide your opinion of all of us.”
“My recollections of my behaviour have grown only more unhappy, Miss Bennet, I assure you.” His sombre mien remained for much of that walk despite her efforts to lighten the mood once more; and if he did not appear the following day, he did join her a day later his mood strangely altered and imbued, she thought, with an increased desire to be pleasing and attentive. That she had felt the loss of his company the previous day, she admitted to herself and wondered at such a reaction. Could her opinion of the gentleman be changing?
It struck her in the course of their most recent rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions - about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. If she had not discerned his interest in her, she might well have believed him to have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts and might have supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. However her responses to his inquiries, which she realized were not disconnected at all, were composed. She admitted to an appreciation of Hunsford insofar as the walks were concerned, to pleasure in her friend’s company, the opportunity to make a new acquaintance in the Colonel and to improve an acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. Left unsaid was the lack of any pleasure to be found in the company of Mr. Collins or in his aunt, Lady Catherine. Of the happiness of the Collinses, she was reluctant to say much other than to articulate, with some caution – fearful of bringing on those addresses which she thought he might harbour -, her belief that a marriage not based on mutual esteem and respect would be distasteful to herself and, with a cautious glance at Mr. Darcy, to her sister Jane. Of the possibility of visiting Rosings she was not prepared to say much other than to admit of its possibility although she believed it unlikely that she would visit her friend again for several years.
It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage. Charlotte was not so engaged in her household duties as to be unaware of her friend’s discomposure and followed her as she mounted the stairs to her room. Asking for and receiving permission to enter she found Elizabeth ensconced in the armchair by her window, wrapped in a light blanket – while spring was upon the land, the days remained cool and the parsonage far from overheated. Elizabeth smiled and raised her eyebrow in the questioning look that her friend had come to know so very well.
“It seemed to me, Eliza, that you were…discomposed when you came back from your walk. Did something happen?”
Elizabeth was silent for several minutes wondering if she could or should seek counsel from her friend. If Jane were here, she might well reveal her thoughts. Charlotte, however, had obligations which might make such confidences unwelcome and harmful to Elizabeth’s interests. Finally, she decided to see how willing Charlotte might be to preserve her confidences.
“Charlotte, I have that which I would talk with you about but would have to be kept secret from everyone, including your husband and your family. I will not burden you with them if such a pledge is…impossible for you to give.”
Elizabeth could see her friend’s face grow increasingly thoughtful. After a minute or so Charlotte asked, “How long would I have to conceal this information?”
Elizabeth considered her response, “I would think no longer than my stay here. Once I leave, I believe the need for secrecy will be gone.” And watched as her friend deliberated for several minutes before responding.
“Very well Eliza. I will honour your confidences until you leave.” She laughed, “Now what has happened? Has Mr. Darcy made you an offer of marriage?”
Elizabeth could not conceal her surprise saying, “No! No he has not…but I fear he might well do so.”
Charlotte’s amazement could not be hidden and she made little effort to do so but it quickly became apparent that it was compounded of equal parts of surprise that events had progressed to the point where her friend might expect an offer and that she ‘feared’ it being made. It was to the latter that she responded, “Fear, Eliza! I am astounded that you would say as much!” Looking at Elizabeth more closely, she blurted, “You are not thinking of refusing him. Surely not! You could not be so foolish!”
Elizabeth grimaced, “I had rather expected such a response from you Charlotte. And yes, I do not see how I can accept him.” She was inclined to expand on her thoughts but was prevented from doing so by her friend’s interjection, “Eliza, you must listen to me. I know you disagreed with my accepting the offer from Mr. Collins. That we do not think alike on matters of marriage…well, we have expressed our differing thoughts too frequently for me to wish or need to repeat them again. But there are several…thoughts, no perhaps considerations that you must think on. Will you listen and promise to give them some thought? You have extracted a promise of secrecy from me which I have given. From you I would ask a promise of listening to my thoughts and for you to consider them carefully. Will you do this?”
At her friend's slow nod, Charlotte continued, “First and most obvious, Mr. Darcy is not Mr. Collins. I know and understand why you could not accept the offer from Mr. Collins. You would have done very poorly under the eye of Lady Catherine. She has tested even my patience. Yours - I shudder to consider. Mr. Darcy is not a foolish man, he is not only respectable but intelligent and responsible. Consider if you will that he has undertaken the responsibility of raising a sister who was but ten or eleven when he was made her guardian at her father’s death. He did so at the age of two-and-twenty when most young men are engaged in frivolous activities and while having to take on the responsibilities of a great estate. You say he is proud but surely he has reason to be so given the responsibilities he must discharge. I would also point out that he has visited his aunt regularly, whose company is obviously somewhat distasteful to him and, in doing so, exposes himself to her presumptions and dictates – not that I think he will be bound by them but he could easily avoid them altogether. That he does not do so speaks well for his sense of responsibility. I might add that his manner in no way reflects that of his aunt. He has been nothing but civil to me and my husband and to you as well during his stay.”
Charlotte paused to collect her thoughts and, before Elizabeth could think to respond, continued, “I would have you think further on this, Elizabeth. I am eight-and-twenty and had to accept an offer from a man like Mr. Collins in order to secure a home and security. You are twenty and Jane, I think, three-and-twenty and still unmarried despite being one of the most beautiful women in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth could not help exclaiming, “She would be married now if it were not for the efforts of Mr. Bingley’s sisters and friend!”
“Perhaps…and perhaps not! I know you are convinced that Mr. Bingley was persuaded against an attachment but that speaks poorly for either the strength of his attachment or his resolve or both, does it not?”
Elizabeth could see her friend waiting for her to acknowledge the truth of her words and, remembering her aunt’s similar opinion, assented reluctantly – a fact which Charlotte acknowledged with a small smile.
“My point, Eliza, is that we have all reached an age where we should or could have been married – even you. The reason we are not is one that we must accept. The number of men with whom we can consider an attachment is limited and we, none of us, have the portions to attract decent men in need of such to support a wife. You have no reason to concern yourself now, Lizzy, but in five years will you be so sanguine? Can you afford to be? I know you despair of your mother’s efforts to have you married but you must admit the reality of your situation. If her efforts are somewhat misguided, the purpose should not be disparaged.” Charlotte thought of the entail problem and chose to ignore it. Her friend could easily understand that it inspired much of her mother’s efforts.
Sounds from below intruded on their consciousness and both realized that the time that could be spared for a confidential talk had ended. As Charlotte rose she offered one last plea, “I must attended below. I will say no more unless you wish to talk further. I will only ask that you honour my request and take…give careful consideration to any response you make to an offer from Mr. Darcy, should he make one.”
Receiving Elizabeth’s agreement, she quit the room leaving Elizabeth to begin the arduous task of trying to resolve her uncertainties in regards to Mr. Darcy. This task was to absorb her for much of the remainder of that day and the next and she was pleased to not have her attention distracted by visitors to the parsonage. If her distraction was of concern to the others it was not apparent and she was sure that Mr. Collins was completely insensible to the fact. When she finally closed in her eyes the next night she had, for the most part, arrived at a decision.