[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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withdrawn, he said to her, "Mrs.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
Page 202
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into one house in this neighbourhood, they shall never
have admittance. I will not encourage the impudence 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 the 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.
Page 203 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szkicerysunki.xlx.pl
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
Page 202
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into one house in this neighbourhood, they shall never
have admittance. I will not encourage the impudence 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 the 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.
Page 203 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]