Janet Aylmer - Darcy’s Story

Then turning back to Darcy, she said,

“Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too, for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear.”

This reply and manner of speaking stirred in him feelings that were familiar, and far from unwelcome.

“I am not afraid of you,” said he, with good humour.

“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

Darcy awaited her next words with little apprehension, since she had smiled at him again, and that was worth any degree of discomfort that he was likely to suffer.

“You shall hear then, but prepare yourself for something very dreadful,” said Miss Bennet. “The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball, and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”

Darcy’s mind went back immediately to the assembly at Meryton, and his rejection of Bingley’s suggestion that he should dance with Miss Elizabeth. In his embarrassment, he replied rather stiffly.

“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”

“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom.” She smiled again at Darcy, before turning to his cousin.

“Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”

However, Darcy intervened, for he was more than reluctant to lose her attention.

“Perhaps,” he said, “I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”

“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Miss Bennet, still addressing his cousin Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

“My fingers,” said Miss Bennet, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault, because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”

Darcy smiled, for there was no denying the justice of her remark.

“You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think anything wanting.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then added, “We neither of us perform to strangers.”

He would have wished to continue the conversation further, but they were interrupted, as Lady Catherine called out to know of what they were talking.

Miss Bennet immediately began playing again as Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, his aunt said to Darcy,

“Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”

Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Miss Bennet’s performance, mixing with them many more instructions. Darcy looked at the lady to see how she took this and the comments that followed on playing the instrument, but the performer received them with forbearance. At the request of the gentlemen, she remained at the instrument till her lady-ship’s carriage was ready to take the party home to Hunsford.

When their aunt had retired for the night, Fitzwilliam remarked to his cousin, “Miss Bennet seems to bring out the best in you, Darcy! I have rarely seen you as animated in company as you were tonight.”

“You did not seem indifferent yourself,” said Darcy, seeking to redirect his cousin’s attention. “But remember, Fitzwilliam, that she comes from a family with no fortune, and very limited connections.”

“She is not for me, you mean,” said his cousin regretfully. “But you are right, the younger son of an Earl must marry for money. At least, that consideration need not worry you, Darcy.”

“You imagine more than there is.”

“I hope so,” Fitzwilliam replied, “for I have a strong impression that our aunt has other plans in mind for you and, as we both know, she likes to have her own way.”

To this, Darcy thought it wise to make no reply.

The following morning, Darcy went for a walk in the woods to the north of Rosings. Despite himself, and contrary to any intention of which he was consciously aware, after another half an hour he found himself ringing the bell at the parsonage.

To his surprise, the other two ladies were absent in the village, and he found Miss Bennet alone, writing a letter. 

Having been invited to sit, he found this uncomfortable. On standing, he walked about the room, but was not at ease and, without his cousin Fitzwilliam to provide conversation, he found that he had little to say.

At last, Miss Bennet made some enquiries after the family at Rosings.

Then, they again seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. Finally, Miss Bennet said, “How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before.”

She paused as though for a reply, but he could think of none, painfully aware that he was not best at untruths, and unable to formulate anything that might not compromise his role in the matter.

At length, she went on, “He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London.”

Awkwardly he said, “Perfectly so, I thank you.”

After a short pause, she added, “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?”

Darcy replied, “I have never heard him say so.”

But then not wishing to imply any intention by Bingley of renewing his friendship with Miss Jane Bennet, Darcy went on, “But it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing.”

He found it difficult to gauge her expression as she said, “If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle.”

“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchaser offers.”

She made no answer.

After a further silence, Darcy tried to make some other conversation.

“This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.”

“I believe she did, and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.” She smiled a little at last as she said this.

He tried to continue the conversation by referring to her friend.

“Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”

“Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding, though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.”

Almost without knowing what he said, he went on,

“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.”

“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”

“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s journey,” Darcy replied. “Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”

She seemed determined not to agree with him. “I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match. I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.”

With the distance from Hertfordshire to Pemberley suddenly in his mind, he pressed on, “It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Any thing beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”

He thought that she might have similar thoughts in her mind, as she blushed as she answered, “I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil.”

Darcy was much encouraged by this, for Miss Bennet must be contemplating his own interest in her, and the possibility of her living in Derbyshire.

However, she recollected that they had been speaking of Mrs. Collins, and so returned to speaking about her friend’s circumstances.

“But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys, and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.”

Anxious to be certain that a distance from Hertfordshire would not be uncongenial, Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn.”

She looked very surprised at this, but said nothing. Darcy drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, changed the subject by asking,

“Are you pleased with Kent?”

They had maintained more successfully a short dialogue on the subject of that county when Mrs. Collins and her sister entered the room, just returned from their walk.

After greeting them, and sitting a few minutes longer without saying much more, Darcy went away. 

Despite any intention he had promised to himself, Darcy took every opportunity over the next few days to visit the parsonage, but as often as he could in the company of others.

The season for all field sports was over. Within Rosings, there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but the nearness of the parsonage was a temptation almost every day. Darcy and Fitzwilliam called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and occasionally with their aunt.

When he was there, Darcy found it no easier to make conversation than on his previous visits to Hunsford. He frequently sat there ten minutes together, cursing his lack of  ease in making conversation, and therefore often without opening his lips. But anything was better than not being in her presence and, when he thought that he was not observed, he looked at Miss Bennet. He was aware that the more often he was in her company, the greater his need for it.

Darcy was encouraged by Miss Bennet telling him which were her frequent haunts in the park, believing this to indicate that their encounters were welcome, that she was aware of his interest and was of the same mind about their acquaintance. With the weather being fine for the time of year, and knowing her fondness for walking, he then took pains to cross the paths when he could anticipate that she might be there. Often when they met thus, he would turn back with her towards Hunsford.