Chapter 50

Mr. Bennet had spent his whole income throughout his life. Instead, he ought to have saved at least a little every year. That was so that his wife and children could live better if he died first. He had regretted this very often. Now he regretted it more earnestly than ever. If he had done that duty, Lydia would not have had to owe her uncle the honor and the good name that money could buy. And the satisfaction of persuading one of the most worthless young men in England to become his daughter's husband would have gone to the man who ought to have been responsible for it.

It troubled him that a business of so little good to anyone had to be settled with his brother-in-law's money alone. He wished to find out how much Mr. Gardiner had done. And he was determined to repay that debt as soon as he could.

When Mr. Bennet first married, he thought there was no need to save. This was because he took it for granted that a son would be born. When that son came of age, he and his father together could put an end to the entail in the male line. Then he could provide a living for his wife and his younger children. Five daughters came into the world one after another, and still he believed that a son would soon be born. Even after Lydia was born, Mrs. Bennet was certain for many years that a son would surely come. When they gave up that hope at last, it was too late to begin saving. Mrs. Bennet was far from being a thrifty woman. The only reason the couple did not spend more than their income was that her husband wished never to depend on anyone else for money.

By the marriage settlement, five thousand pounds was secured to Mrs. Bennet and her children. How it should be divided among the children was for the parents to decide. At least Lydia's share had now to be settled. Mr. Bennet had no reason to hesitate over accepting the offer before him. He wrote very briefly to say that he was grateful for his brother-in-law's kindness. He wrote that he approved of everything that had been done so far, and that he would keep the promises made on his behalf. He had never imagined that, even if Wickham could be persuaded to marry his daughter, the business could be arranged with so little burden to himself. Even with one hundred pounds a year going to the two of them, his real added cost would be less than ten pounds. Lydia had cost him her board and her pocket money. She had also received a steady stream of money gifts through her mother. For all of it together came to very little less than one hundred pounds.

It was another welcome surprise that the trouble he had to take himself was so small. His chief wish now was to give as little effort as possible to this business. When the first anger that had sent him out to find his daughter had passed, he fell back naturally into his old idleness. His letter was soon sent off. For though he was slow to begin a task, he was quick once he had begun it. He asked his brother-in-law to tell him in detail how much he owed him. But he was so angry with Lydia that he sent her no message at all.

The good news spread quickly through the house. It reached the neighborhood just as quickly. The neighbors received it with a pretense of decency and generosity. To be sure, it would have made a better story if Miss Lydia Bennet had fallen into ruin and come to the streets, or, at best, had been shut up in some distant farmhouse and cut off from the world. Still, there was a great deal to be said about her marrying. The spiteful old ladies of Meryton had always said that they wished Lydia well. Their good wishes cooled very little even when things changed. For they were certain that she must be unhappy with such a husband.

Mrs. Bennet had not come downstairs for two weeks. But on this happy day she took her place again at the head of the table. Her spirits were so high that she could hardly breathe. No shame at all softened her sense of triumph. Ever since Jane turned sixteen, there had been one thing she wanted most. It was to see one of her daughters married. Now it was about to happen. Her thoughts and her words ran wholly on the fine muslins, the new carriages, and the servants that an elegant wedding required. She hunted busily through the neighborhood for a house that would suit her daughter. She neither knew nor considered how much the two of them would have to live on. She simply refused one house after another as too small and too plain.

"Haye Park would do very well, if the Gouldings would leave it. The great house at Stoke would do too, if the drawing room were larger. But Ashworth is too far away. I could not bear to have my child living ten miles from me. And Purvis Lodge has dreadful attics."

While the servants were present, Mr. Bennet let his wife talk on as she pleased. But when they had withdrawn, he spoke. "Mrs. Bennet, before you take any or all of these houses for your son and daughter, let us come to a clear understanding. There is one house in this neighborhood that they shall never enter. I have no wish to encourage the rashness of either of them, so they will not be received at Longbourn."

A long quarrel followed these words. But Mr. Bennet was firm. The argument soon moved on to another matter. Mrs. Bennet was astonished and horrified to find that her husband would not give a single guinea toward buying clothes for his daughter. He declared that Lydia should receive from him no mark of affection at all on this occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly understand it. How could her husband's anger grow into so deep a resentment? To refuse her daughter what she must have if the marriage was to look proper was beyond anything she could believe. She cared far more about the disgrace that the want of new clothes would cast over her daughter's wedding than about the shame of Lydia's running away and living with Wickham two weeks before the marriage.

Elizabeth now sincerely regretted having told Mr. Darcy, in the pain of that moment, of her fears for her sister. Since the marriage would soon follow, this flight would be given a decent-looking end. From those who had not been there themselves, the first disgrace might yet be hidden.

She was not afraid that the story would spread further through Mr. Darcy. There was hardly anyone who could keep a secret more closely than he. Yet there was no one who would think it more shameful than he to have learned of her sister's immorality. Even so, it was not that she feared any harm to herself. For a gap that could not be crossed seemed already to have opened between the two of them. It would be the same even if Lydia married on the most honorable terms. She could not think that Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family whose closest relation by marriage was now the very man he so justly despised.

It was no wonder that he should draw back from such a connection. In Derbyshire she had felt sure that he wished to win her favor. But she could not expect that wish to survive so heavy a blow. Elizabeth was humbled and she was grieved. She was full of regret, though she hardly knew for what. Now that all hope of gaining his esteem was gone, she was sorry to be losing that esteem. She wanted to hear news of him at the very time when she was least likely to hear any. Only when there was no chance of their meeting again did she feel sure that she could have been happy with him.

It was a proposal she had proudly refused only four months before. Now she would have accepted it with joy and gratitude. Elizabeth often thought how great his sense of triumph would be if he knew it. She did not doubt that he was as generous as the most generous of men. But since he was human, he could not help feeling that triumph.

She was only now beginning to see that Mr. Darcy was, in character and in talent, the man best suited to her. His mind and his temper were different from her own. Yet he could have given her everything she wished for. It would have been a good match for both of them. Elizabeth's easy and lively manner would have softened his mind and improved his bearing. And she would have gained far more from his judgment, his knowledge, and his experience of the world.

But now no such happy marriage could show people what married happiness truly was. A union of quite the opposite kind was soon to take place within the family. That was shutting out any chance of the other marriage.

How Wickham and Lydia were to keep any sort of independent household she could not imagine. But it was a couple joined because passion was stronger than virtue. It was easy to guess how small their chance of lasting happiness would be.

Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. He answered Mr. Bennet's thanks briefly. He said that he wished to help toward the happiness of anyone in the family, and he ended the letter by begging that the matter never be mentioned again. The chief purpose of the letter was to give the news that Mr. Wickham had decided to leave the militia.

"Ever since the marriage was settled, I have wished very much that he would do so. Leaving that regiment is a very good thing both for Mr. Wickham and for my niece. I trust that you will think so too. Mr. Wickham means to go into the regulars. Among his old friends in the army there are still a few who have the power and the will to help him. He has been promised the place of ensign in a certain general's regiment, now stationed in the north. It is an advantage too that the place is so far from this part of the kingdom. He is making fair promises. I hope that among strangers, where each of them must guard a good name, they will both behave more sensibly. I have written to Colonel Forster to tell him how the arrangements now stand. I have also asked him to assure Mr. Wickham's various creditors in Brighton and near it that they will soon be paid. I have given my word for that money. Will you take the trouble to give the same assurance to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I will add a list below, following what he has told me? He has declared all his debts. I hope that in this at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has his orders, and everything will be finished within a week. The two of them will then join his regiment. That is, unless they are first invited to Longbourn. I hear from Mrs. Gardiner that my niece is very anxious to see you all before she leaves the south. She is well and in good health. She asks me to give her dutiful respects, as a daughter, to you and to your wife. Yours truly.

"Edward Gardiner."

Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw as clearly as Mr. Gardiner did how good it was that Wickham should leave the militia. But Mrs. Bennet was not so pleased. She had been looking forward to the greatest pleasure and pride in having Lydia with her. To have them settle in the north was a great disappointment. She had never given up the idea of having the two of them live in Hertfordshire. And it grieved her very much that Lydia should have to leave a regiment where she knew so many people and where so many were fond of her.

"She is so fond of Mrs. Forster. To send her so far away is truly dreadful! And there are several young men she likes very much. I do not know whether the officers in some general's regiment will be so agreeable."

Lydia's request — if it could be called a request — to be received into the family again before she went north was firmly refused at first. But Jane and Elizabeth were of one mind. They thought it would be better for their sister's feelings and for her place in society if her parents recognized the marriage. Lydia begged very earnestly to be allowed to come to Longbourn with her husband as soon as they were married. The request was reasonable and gently made. In the end their father agreed with his daughters, and he decided to do as they wished. Their mother too was pleased with the thought of showing her married daughter to the neighbors before she was sent off to the north. So Mr. Bennet wrote to his brother-in-law again. He gave his permission for the two of them to come. It was settled that they should come to Longbourn as soon as the wedding was over. But it surprised Elizabeth that Wickham had agreed to that plan. If she had followed only her own wishes, a meeting with Wickham would have been the last thing in the world she would have wanted.