Chapter 17

The next day, Elizabeth told Jane about her conversation with Mr. Wickham. Jane listened with surprise and concern. She could not believe that Mr. Darcy was so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's friendship as to be a bad man. Yet it was not in Jane's nature to doubt the sincerity of a young man with such a pleasing manner as Mr. Wickham. The mere thought that he might really have suffered such unkind treatment was enough to move her tender heart. So Jane wished to think well of both men, and to defend the conduct of each. Whatever could not be explained at all, she could only put down to chance or misunderstanding.

"Both of them," said Jane. "They must have been deceived in some way we cannot even guess. People with their own interests to serve may have spread false stories about each other. There must be some cause or circumstance that divided them, without real fault on either side. It is impossible for us to find it out."

"That is very true. And now, dear Jane, how will you defend the people with their own interests to serve, who may have had a hand in this? You must clear them too, or someone will have to be thought badly of."

"Laugh as much as you like, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dear Lizzy, only think how shameful it would be for Mr. Darcy, if he treated a man that way whom his own father had promised to love and care for. It cannot be so. No man with ordinary human feeling, no man with any care for his own reputation, could do such a thing. Could all his closest friends be so entirely deceived in him? Oh, it cannot be."

"It is much easier to believe that Mr. Bingley has been deceived, than to believe that Mr. Wickham invented the story he told me about himself last night. He gave every name and every fact without hiding a thing. If it is not true, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in Mr. Wickham's face."

"It is a very difficult situation. It is even painful. I do not know what to think."

"I beg your pardon; I know exactly what to think."

But there was one thing Jane could think of with certainty. If Mr. Bingley had truly been deceived, he would suffer greatly once the matter became known to the world.

The two sisters were talking this way in the shrubbery when some of the very people they had been speaking of came to call them in. Mr. Bingley and his sisters had come in person to invite them to the long-awaited Netherfield ball. It was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies said how glad they were to see their dear friend again, and declared that it felt like an age since they had last met. They asked again and again what she had been doing since they parted. But they paid almost no attention to the rest of the family. They avoided Mrs. Bennet as much as they could, said only a few words to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They soon left. Their brother seemed eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's kindness, for he rose and hurried out with surprising speed.

The thought of going to the Netherfield ball delighted every woman in the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider the ball as being given in honor of her eldest daughter. She was especially pleased that Mr. Bingley had come in person to invite them, instead of sending a formal card. Jane pictured herself spending a happy evening in the company of her two friends and their brother. Elizabeth looked forward eagerly to dancing as much as she liked with Mr. Wickham, and thought that Mr. Darcy's face and manner would confirm the truth of everything Wickham had told her. Kitty and Lydia's pleasure did not depend so much on any one event or any one person. Like Elizabeth, the two of them meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham, but he was by no means the only partner who could make them happy. After all, a ball was a ball. Even Mary assured her family that she herself had no objection to it.

"As long as I may have my mornings to myself," said Mary, "that is enough for me. I do not think it any sacrifice to go to an evening party now and then. Everyone has some duty to society, and I may say that I am one of those who believe that intervals of rest and amusement are desirable for everybody."

Elizabeth was in such high spirits over all this that, although she rarely troubled herself to speak to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking whether he meant to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he did, whether he thought it proper to join in the evening's dancing. To her considerable surprise, Mr. Collins had not the least scruple about the matter. Far from worrying that he might be scolded by the archbishop or by Lady Catherine de Bourgh for daring to dance, no such thought was anywhere near his mind.

"I do assure you," he said, "that I consider there can be no possible harm in this kind of ball, given by a young man of good character for the benefit of respectable people. Nor do I object to dancing myself. Indeed, I hope to have the honor of taking the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening, and I take this opportunity of engaging Miss Elizabeth Bennet for the first two dances especially. I trust my cousin Jane will understand my reason for asking first, and will not consider herself slighted."

Elizabeth felt completely caught in a trap. She had firmly meant to dance those very two dances with Mr. Wickham, and now Mr. Collins had taken his place instead. Her high spirits had never shown themselves at a worse moment. But there was nothing to be done. Her pleasure with Mr. Wickham had to be put off a little longer, against her will. She accepted Mr. Collins's request as gracefully as she could manage. She was not made any happier by the sense that his attentions seemed to hint at something more. It now occurred to her, for the first time, that of all the sisters, she had been chosen to become the mistress of the Hunsford parsonage — chosen to fill a place at the Quadrille table at Rosings whenever no better guest was available. Mr. Collins grew steadily more polite to her, and often tried hard to compliment her wit and liveliness. This idea soon turned into certainty. She was more astonished than pleased that her charms could have such an effect, but before long her mother made her understand that the possibility of the match pleased her very much indeed. Elizabeth chose not to take up the hint, well aware that whatever she answered would lead to a serious quarrel. Mr. Collins might never propose at all, and until he did, there was no use quarreling over him.

Had there been no Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk about, the younger Miss Bennets would have been in a truly pitiful state at this time. From the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, it rained without stopping. They could not walk into Meryton even once. There was no chance to visit their aunt, seek out the officers, or hunt for news. Even the rosettes for their shoes to wear at Netherfield had to be bought by someone else on their behalf. The weather, which cut off every chance of growing closer to Mr. Wickham, must have tried Elizabeth's patience as well. If it had not been for the Tuesday ball waiting ahead, Kitty and Lydia could never have endured Friday and Saturday, Sunday and Monday.