Chapter 48.

The whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet

the next morning, but the post came in without bringing a
single line from him. His family knew him to be, on all
common occasions, a most negligent and dilatory
correspondent; but at such a time they had hoped for exertion.
They were forced to conclude that he had no pleasing
intelligence to send; but even of THAT they would have been
glad to be certain. Mr. Gardiner had waited only for the letters
before he set off.

When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving

constant information of what was going on, and their uncle
promised, at parting, to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to
Longbourn, as soon as he could, to the great consolation of his
sister, who considered it as the only security for her husband's
not being killed in a duel.

Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in

Hertfordshire a few days longer, as the former thought her
presence might be serviceable to her nieces. She shared in
their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a great comfort to
them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also visited
them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of
cheering and heartening them up--though, as she never came
without reporting some fresh instance of Wickham's
extravagance or irregularity, she seldom went away without
leaving them more dispirited than she found them.
 All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but
three months before, had been almost an angel of light. He
was declared to be in debt to every tradesman in the place,
and his intrigues, all honoured with the title of seduction, had
been extended into every tradesman's family. Everybody
declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world;
and everybody began to find out that they had always
distrusted the appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though
she did not credit above half of what was said, believed
enough to make her former assurance of her sister's ruin more
certain; and even Jane, who believed still less of it, became
almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now come
when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never
before entirely despaired of, they must in all probability have
gained some news of them.

Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday his

wife received a letter from him; it told them that, on his
arrival, he had immediately found out his brother, and
persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street; that Mr.
Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival,
but without gaining any satisfactory information; and that he
was now determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in
town, as Mr. Bennet thought it possible they might have gone
to one of them, on their first coming to London, before they
procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself did not expect any
success from this measure, but as his brother was eager in it,
he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added that Mr.
Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London
and promised to write again very soon. There was also a
postscript to this effect:

"I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out,

if possible, from some of the young man's intimates in the
regiment, whether Wickham has any relations or connections
who would be likely to know in what part of town he has now
concealed himself. If there were anyone that one could apply
to with a probability of gaining such a clue as that, it might be
of essential consequence. At present we have nothing to guide
us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in his
power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts,
perhaps, Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living,
better than any other person."

Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this

deference to her authority proceeded; but it was not in her

power to give any information of so satisfactory a nature as
the compliment deserved. She had never heard of his having
had any relations, except a father and mother, both of whom
had been dead many years. It was possible, however, that
some of his companions in the ----shire might be able to give
more information; and though she was not very sanguine in
expecting it, the application was a something to look forward
to.
 Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the
most anxious part of each was when the post was expected.
The arrival of letters was the grand object of every morning's
impatience. Through letters, whatever of good or bad was to
be told would be communicated, and every succeeding day
was expected to bring some news of importance.

But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter

arrived for their father, from a different quarter, from Mr.
Collins; which, as Jane had received directions to open all that
came for him in his absence, she accordingly read; and
Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his letters always were,
looked over her, and read it likewise. It was as follows:

"MY DEAR SIR,

"I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my

situation in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction
you are now suffering under, of which we were yesterday
informed by a letter from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear
sir, that Mrs. Collins and myself sincerely sympathise with
you and all your respectable family, in your present distress,
which must be of the bitterest kind, because proceeding from
a cause which no time can remove. No arguments shall be
wanting on my part that can alleviate so severe a misfortune--
or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that must be of
all others the most afflicting to a parent's mind. The death of
your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of
this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason
to suppose as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this
licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter has proceeded
from a faulty degree of indulgence; though, at the same time,
for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, I am inclined
to think that her own disposition must be naturally bad, or she
could not be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an age.
Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied; in
which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but
likewise by Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have
related the affair. They agree with me in apprehending that
this false step in one daughter will be injurious to the fortunes
of all the others; for who, as Lady Catherine herself
condescendingly says, will connect themselves with such a
family? And this consideration leads me moreover to reflect,
with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event of last
November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been
involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me then advise
you, dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to
throw off your unworthy child from your affection for ever,
and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense.

"I am, dear sir, etc., etc."

Mr. Gardiner did not write again till he had received an

answer from Colonel Forster; and then he had nothing of a
pleasant nature to send. It was not known that Wickham had a
single relationship with whom he kept up any connection, and
it was certain that he had no near one living. His former
acquaintances had been numerous; but since he had been in
the militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular
friendship with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who
could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And in
the wretched state of his own finances, there was a very
powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to his fear of
discovery by Lydia's relations, for it had just transpired that he
had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable
amount. Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand
pounds would be necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton.
He owed a good deal in town, but his debts of honour were
still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner did not attempt to conceal
these particulars from the Longbourn family. Jane heard them
with horror. "A gamester!" she cried. "This is wholly
unexpected. I had not an idea of it."

Mr. Gardiner added in his letter, that they might expect to

see their father at home on the following day, which was
Saturday. Rendered spiritless by the ill-success of all their
endeavours, he had yielded to his brother-in-law's entreaty
that he would return to his family, and leave it to him to do
whatever occasion might suggest to be advisable for
continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this,
she did not express so much satisfaction as her children
expected, considering what her anxiety for his life had been
before.
 "What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?" she
cried. "Sure he will not leave London before he has found
them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if
he comes away?"

As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was

settled that she and the children should go to London, at the
same time that Mr. Bennet came from it. The coach, therefore,
took them the first stage of their journey, and brought its
master back to Longbourn.

Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about

Elizabeth and her Derbyshire friend that had attended her
from that part of the world. His name had never been
voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; and the kind
of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their
being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing.
Elizabeth had received none since her return that could come
from Pemberley.

The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other

excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing,
therefore, could be fairly conjectured from THAT, though
Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted
with her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she
known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of
Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she
thought, one sleepless night out of two.
 When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his
usual philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever
been in the habit of saying; made no mention of the business
that had taken him away, and it was some time before his
daughters had courage to speak of it.

It was not till the afternoon, when he had joined them at

tea, that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then,
on her briefly expressing her sorrow for what he must have
endured, he replied, "Say nothing of that. Who should suffer
but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it."

"You must not be too severe upon yourself," replied

Elizabeth.

"You may well warn me against such an evil. Human

nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my
life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of
being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon
enough."

"Do you suppose them to be in London?"

"Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?"

"And Lydia used to want to go to London," added Kitty.

"She is happy then," said her father drily; "and her

residence there will probably be of some duration."
 Then after a short silence he continued:

"Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your

advice to me last May, which, considering the event, shows
some greatness of mind."

They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch

her mother's tea.

"This is a parade," he cried, "which does one good; it gives

such an elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the
same; I will sit in my library, in my nightcap and powdering
gown, and give as much trouble as I can; or, perhaps, I may
defer it till Kitty runs away."

"I am not going to run away, papa," said Kitty fretfully. "If
I should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than
Lydia."

"YOU go to Brighton. I would not trust you so near it as

Eastbourne for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to
be cautious, and you will feel the effects of it. No officer is
ever to enter into my house again, nor even to pass through
the village. Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you
stand up with one of your sisters. And you are never to stir out
of doors till you can prove that you have spent ten minutes of
every day in a rational manner."
 Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to
cry.

"Well, well," said he, "do not make yourself unhappy. If

you are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a
review at the end of them."

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