Chapter 49

It was two days after Mr. Bennet's return. Jane and Elizabeth were walking together in the shrubbery behind the house. They saw the housekeeper coming toward them. Thinking that she came to call them to their mother, they went forward to meet her. But as they came near, Mrs. Hill said something they did not expect. "I beg your pardon for interrupting you. I thought you might have had good news from London, so I ventured to come and ask."

"What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing at all from London."

"Oh, miss," cried Mrs. Hill in great surprise. "Do you not know that Mr. Gardiner has sent an express to the master? He has been here this half hour, and the master has had a letter."

The two girls could not spare the time even to speak. They ran off, eager to be indoors. They hurried through the hall into the breakfast room, and from there into the library. Their father was in neither place. They were just going upstairs to see whether he was with their mother when they met the butler. He said this.

"If you are looking for the master, he is walking toward the little wood."

At these words they crossed the hall again at once and ran over the lawn. They followed their father. He was walking slowly toward a little wood on one side of the meadow.

Jane was not so light on her feet as Elizabeth, nor so used to running. She soon fell behind. Elizabeth, out of breath, came up with her father and called out eagerly.

"Oh, Papa, what news? What news? Have you heard from my uncle?"

"Yes. I have received a letter from him by express."

"Well, and what news does it bring? Good or bad?"

"What good can we expect?" he said, taking the letter from his pocket. "But perhaps you would like to read it."

Elizabeth caught the letter out of his hand, for she could not wait. Jane came up at the same moment.

"Read it aloud," said her father. "I hardly know myself what it is about."

"Gracechurch Street, Monday, August 2.

"My dear brother,

"At last I am able to send you some news of my niece. On the whole, I hope it will be news that gives you satisfaction. Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out where in London the two of them were. I will not tell you the details until we meet. It is enough that you should know they have been found. I have seen them both myself..."

"Then it is as I always hoped," cried Jane. "They are married!"

Elizabeth read on. "I have seen them both. They are not married yet. Nor could I find any sign that they meant to marry. But if you are willing to keep the promises that I have ventured to make for you, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is asked of you is this. Settle upon your daughter, by marriage settlement, her equal share of the five thousand pounds that is secured to your children after the death of you and my sister. Besides that, you must promise to pay her one hundred pounds a year for as long as you live. Considering everything, I did not hesitate at all to agree to these terms, so far as I judged myself free to act for you. I shall send this by express, so that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You will easily see from these terms that Mr. Wickham's affairs are not so hopeless as people have believed. The world has been mistaken on that point. I am glad to say that, when all his debts are paid, there will be a little money left to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I expect, you send me full power to act for you in the whole business, I will give Haggerston orders at once to prepare a proper marriage settlement. There is not the smallest reason for you to come to London again. So stay quietly at Longbourn, and trust to my diligence and care. Send me your answer as clearly and as soon as you can. We have judged it best that my niece should be married from this house. I hope you will agree to it. She comes to us today. I will write again as soon as anything further is settled. Yours truly.

"Edward Gardiner."

"Is it possible?" cried Elizabeth when she had finished. "Can he really be going to marry Lydia?"

"Then Wickham is not so worthless as we thought him," said her sister. "My dear father, let me congratulate you."

"Have you answered the letter?" asked Elizabeth.

"No. But it must be done soon."

Elizabeth begged him most earnestly to lose no more time before he wrote.

"Oh, my dear father," she cried. "Go back and write it this moment. Think how important every moment is in such a case."

"Let me write it for you, if you dislike the trouble," said Jane.

"I dislike it very much," he answered, "but it must be done."

So saying, he turned back with his daughters and walked toward the house.

"And may I ask a question?" said Elizabeth. "But the terms must be accepted, of course."

"Accepted! I am only ashamed that he asked so little."

"And they must marry! Yet Wickham is such a man."

"Yes, yes. They must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there are two things that I very much want to know. One is how much money your uncle has laid down to bring this about, and the other is how I am ever to repay him."

"Money! My uncle!" cried Jane. "What do you mean, father?"

"I mean that no man in his right mind would marry Lydia when all he would have is one hundred pounds a year while I live, and fifty pounds after I am dead."

"That is very true," said Elizabeth. "I had not thought of it before. His debts paid, and money still left over! Oh, it must be my uncle's doing! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has put himself in difficulties by it. A small sum could not do all this."

"Yes," said her father. "Wickham would be a fool to take her for a penny less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to think so ill of him at the very beginning of our relationship."

"Ten thousand pounds! Good heavens! How is half such a sum to be repaid?"

Mr. Bennet made no answer. Each of them was deep in thought, and they said nothing until they reached the house. Their father then went into the library to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast room.

"And they are really to be married!" cried Elizabeth as soon as they were by themselves. "How strange this is! And for this we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character, we must rejoice in it! Oh, Lydia!"

"I comfort myself with thinking that he would certainly not marry Lydia if he had no real love for her," Jane answered. "Our kind uncle has done something to settle his affairs, but I cannot believe that he has laid out ten thousand pounds, or anything like it. My uncle has children of his own, and may have more. How could he spare even five thousand pounds?"

"If we could only know how much Wickham owed, and how much has been settled on Lydia from his side, we should know exactly what Mr. Gardiner has done for them," said Elizabeth. "Wickham has not sixpence of his own. My uncle's and my aunt's kindness can never be repaid. Their taking her into their home, and giving her their own care and good name, is a sacrifice that years of gratitude cannot repay. By this time she is really with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting it must have been when she first faced my aunt!"

"We must try to forget everything that has passed on either side," said Jane. "I hope and trust that they will still be happy. His agreeing to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he has come to think rightly. Their love for each other will steady them. I hope they will settle so quietly, and live so sensibly, that in time people will forget the rashness that is past."

"Their conduct has been such," Elizabeth replied, "that neither you, nor I, nor anybody can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it."

It now struck the two sisters that their mother most likely knew nothing of what had happened. So they went to the library and asked their father whether he wished them to tell her. He was writing. Without raising his head, he answered coldly.

"Just as you please."

"May we take my uncle's letter to read to her?"

"Take whatever you like, and go."

Elizabeth took the letter from the writing table. The two of them went upstairs together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet in her room. One telling would do for all of them. After a slight preparation for good news, the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly hold herself in. As soon as Jane read Mr. Gardiner's hope that Lydia would soon be married, her joy burst out. Every sentence that followed made it greater. She was now as violent in her delight as she had been restless in her fear and vexation. It was enough for her to know that her daughter would be married. She was not troubled by any fear for her happiness, nor humbled by any memory of her misconduct.

"My dear, dear Lydia!" she cried. "This is delightful indeed! She will be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be. I knew he would manage everything. How I long to see her! And to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister-in-law Mrs. Gardiner about them this very minute. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father and ask him how much he will give her. Stay, stay. I will go myself. Kitty, ring the bell for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!"

Her eldest daughter tried to make her think how much the whole family owed to Mr. Gardiner for what he had done. In this way she hoped to quiet her mother's excitement a little.

"We must believe that this happy ending," Jane added, "is owing for the most part to my uncle's kindness. We are sure that he has promised to help Mr. Wickham with money."

"Well," cried her mother. "It is all very right. Who should do it but her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, all his money would have come to me and my children. This is the first time we have ever had anything from him, except for a few presents. Oh! I am so happy. In a short time I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in such a flutter that I am sure I cannot write. I will dictate, and you shall write for me. We will settle with your father about the money afterwards. But the things should be ordered at once."

She then began to talk on and on about calico, muslin, and fine linen. She would soon have dictated orders for a great many things. But Jane, with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait. She told her to wait until she had time to talk it over with her father. She said that one day's delay would not matter much. Her mother was too happy to be as stubborn as usual. Other plans came into her head as well.

"I shall go to Meryton as soon as I am dressed, and tell the good, good news to Mrs. Philips," she said. "And on my way back I can call on Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. A little fresh air would do me a great deal of good. Girls, can I do anything for you in Meryton? Oh! Here comes Hill. My dear Hill, have you heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married. You shall all have a bowl of punch to enjoy yourselves at her wedding."

Mrs. Hill began to show her joy at once. Elizabeth received her congratulations along with the rest. Then, sick of all this foolishness, she escaped to her own room. There she could think freely at last. Poor Lydia's situation was at best very bad. But she had to be thankful that it was no worse. Elizabeth felt this. When she looked forward, she could expect for her sister neither sensible happiness nor success in the world. But when she looked back to what they had feared only two hours before, she saw all the good of what had now been gained.