Chapter 33

Elizabeth had run into Mr. Darcy in the park by chance more than once or twice. She found it very annoying that bad luck seemed to bring him, of all people, to the one spot no one else ever visited. To keep it from happening again, she had made a point, the very first time they met there, of telling him that this was a favorite walk of hers. So how had a second meeting happened at all? It was very strange. And yet a third meeting followed the second. It seemed almost like willful spite on his part, or else some strange wish to bring trouble on himself. At these meetings, Darcy did not simply exchange a few polite words and then walk off in awkward silence. He seemed to think he must turn back and walk with her. He did not say much. Elizabeth, for her part, made no effort to talk to him or to listen closely either. But at their third meeting, she noticed that he was asking strange questions that had nothing to do with anything. He asked whether she was enjoying her stay at Hunsford, whether she liked walking alone, and whether she thought the Collinses were happy. While they talked of Rosings, Elizabeth happened to say she did not know the house well, and he seemed to assume that whenever she came to Kent again, she would be staying there. That, at least, seemed to be what he meant. Was he thinking of Colonel Fitzwilliam? If he meant anything at all, she thought, he must be hinting at something between her and the colonel. A little uneasy at the thought, Elizabeth was very glad when they reached the gate across from the parsonage.

One day, as Elizabeth walked, she was reading over the last letter Jane had sent her. She was thinking carefully about a few lines that showed Jane had not written in good spirits. Instead of being surprised by Mr. Darcy again, she looked up to see Colonel Fitzwilliam coming toward her. Elizabeth quickly put the letter away and said, forcing a smile,

"I did not know you walked this way, Colonel."

"I was making the round of the park," he answered. "It is something I do every year. I meant to end with a call at the parsonage. Are you going much farther?"

"No. I meant to turn back very soon."

So Elizabeth turned back, as she had said. The two of them walked toward the parsonage together.

"Are you really leaving Kent on Saturday?" she asked.

"Yes—if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges things just as he pleases."

"And even if he cannot always arrange things his own way, at least he has plenty of choice in the matter. I know of no one who enjoys the right to do just as he likes more than Mr. Darcy."

"He certainly likes to have his own way," Colonel Fitzwilliam answered. "But so does everyone. He simply has more means of getting it than most people do. He is rich, and many others are poor. I say that from my own feeling. As you know, a younger son must grow used to going without, and to depending on others."

"To me it seems that the younger son of an earl can know very little of either. Now, tell me honestly—when have you ever had to go without something, or depend on anyone? When have you ever been kept from going where you wished, or buying what you wanted, for lack of money?"

"You have touched a sore point. I cannot say I have suffered much in that way. But in weightier matters, a lack of money can be painful. Younger sons cannot marry where they like."

"Unless they happen to like women of fortune, which I think they very often do."

"Our habit of spending makes us depend on others too much. There are not many men in my position who can afford to marry without giving some thought to money."

"Is he speaking of me?" Elizabeth thought. The thought made her blush. But she soon recovered herself and said cheerfully, "And pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? Unless your elder brother is quite sickly, you would hardly ask more than fifty thousand pounds."

He answered her in the same light tone, and the subject dropped there. Elizabeth wanted to break a silence that might make him think she had been affected by what had just passed. So after a little while, she said,

"I imagine your cousin brought you down here mainly to have someone at his command. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But perhaps his sister will do well enough for now. Since she is under his sole care, he can do just as he likes with her."

"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "That advantage he must share with me. I am joint guardian of Miss Darcy with him."

"Are you indeed? And what sort of guardian do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage. And if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way too."

As she spoke, Elizabeth noticed him looking at her closely. He asked at once why she supposed Miss Darcy was likely to give her two guardians any worry. From the way he asked it, Elizabeth felt sure she had come very near the truth in some way. She answered at once.

"You need not be alarmed. I have never heard anything bad of her. I daresay she is one of the most manageable creatures in the world. She is a great favorite with some ladies I know, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think you said you knew them."

"I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike man. He is a great friend of Darcy's."

"Oh yes," said Elizabeth dryly. "Mr. Darcy is remarkably kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a vast deal of care of him."

"Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of him, in the very point where he most needs care. From something he told me on our way here, I gather that Bingley owes him a great deal. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no real grounds for supposing it was Bingley he meant. It is all my own guess."

"What do you mean?"

"It is a matter Darcy would not wish widely known, of course. It would be unpleasant if it reached the lady's family."

"You may trust me never to repeat it."

"And remember, I have no strong grounds for thinking it was Bingley. All Darcy told me was this: he congratulated himself on having recently saved a friend from the troubles of a very imprudent marriage. He did not give any name, or any other details. I only guessed it was Bingley because he seems just the sort of young man to get into that kind of trouble, and because I knew the two of them had been together the whole summer."

"Did he tell you his reasons for interfering?"

"I understood there were some very strong objections to the lady."

"And what tricks did he use to separate them?"

"He did not tell me what tricks he used," said Fitzwilliam, smiling. "He told me no more than I have told you."

Elizabeth said nothing, and walked on. Her heart was swelling with anger. Fitzwilliam watched her for a little while, and then asked why she looked so thoughtful.

"I am thinking of what you have told me," she said. "Your cousin's conduct does not sit well with me. What right did he have to judge in such a case?"

"You mean his interference went too far?"

"I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide whether his friend's affection was proper or not. And I do not see why he should be the one to judge and direct how his friend was to be happy, all on his own opinion. But," Elizabeth went on, collecting herself, "since I know none of the details, it is not fair of me to condemn him. Perhaps there was not much affection in the case after all."

"That is not an unnatural guess," said Fitzwilliam. "But it does rather lessen the glory of my cousin's triumph."

It was said as a joke, but to Elizabeth it seemed too exact a picture of Mr. Darcy. She did not dare to answer. So she changed the subject abruptly, and talked of unimportant things until they reached the parsonage. As soon as their visitor was gone, Elizabeth shut herself in her room, where she could think over all she had heard without interruption. She could not believe these words referred to anyone but people close to her. There could not be two men in the world over whom Mr. Darcy held such complete influence. She had never doubted that he had some hand in separating Mr. Bingley and Jane. But until now, she had always believed that Miss Bingley was the one who planned and carried it out. Yet if his own vanity had not deceived him, he was the true cause. His pride and his whims had brought about all that Jane had suffered, and still suffered. He had taken away, for a while at least, every hope of happiness from the warmest and most generous heart in the world. No one could say how lasting the harm he had done might be.

"There were some very strong objections to the lady"—those were Colonel Fitzwilliam's own words. Those strong objections probably meant nothing more than that she had one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who did business in London.

"As for Jane herself," she cried, "there could be no objection to her at all! She is loveliness and goodness itself! Her judgment is excellent, her mind is well governed, and her manners are truly charming. Nor could anything be said against my father. He has his oddities, but he has abilities that even Mr. Darcy need not look down on, and a respectability that Darcy will probably never reach." When she thought of her mother, her confidence wavered a little. But she would not allow that any objection there could really have weighed much with Mr. Darcy. She felt sure his pride had been wounded far more by his friend's relations lacking importance than by their lacking sense. In the end, she decided that he had been influenced partly by the worst kind of pride, and partly by a wish to keep Mr. Bingley for his own sister.

The agitation and tears this brought on gave her a headache. It grew worse as evening came on. Along with her wish not to see Mr. Darcy, this made Elizabeth decide not to go to Rosings, where she was engaged to drink tea with her cousins. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was truly unwell, did not press her to go, and did her best to keep her husband from urging it either. But Mr. Collins could not hide his worry that Lady Catherine might be a little displeased at Elizabeth's staying at home.