Elizabeth has undergone the ordeal without blenching; but the reaction is to come. No doubt Lady Catherine will see her nephew in passing through London—how far may not her prejudiced version of what has passed between her and Elizabeth, with a vigorous personal appeal to Darcy, sway him as he still halts between two opinions? It is said that a woman who hesitates is lost—on the other side of the question; but the same saying does not hold good of a man. Lady Catherine is Darcy’s aunt; he must view her in another light from that in which Elizabeth regards her. It is natural to suppose she has some influence over him, while Elizabeth is only too well aware how much weight he once put on some of his kinswoman’s violent objections.
Elizabeth makes up her mind that if Darcy does not return to Netherfield at the appointed date, she will know what to think.
In the meantime Elizabeth is summoned by her father to hear a letter from Mr. Collins read. In the tallest of tall language the writer solemnly congratulates the family on the brilliant prospects of his cousin Jane. Then, after referring to what is even the surpassing splendour of the alliance said to be within his cousin Elizabeth’s reach, Mr. Collins servilely and with nervous timidity states the unconquerable opposition of his revered patroness, and implores Elizabeth not to provoke Lady Catherine’s anger.
Mr. Bennet regards the report to which Mr. Collins has alluded, as the most preposterous mistake, and calls upon Elizabeth to laugh at it, as the best joke out. “Now, Lizzy, I think I have surprised you. Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life!”
Mr. Bennet is rather provoked because his daughter does not enjoy the absurdity of the idea as he had expected. “You are not going to be missish, I hope,” he says reproachfully, “and pretend to be affronted by an idle report.”
Poor Elizabeth! such incredulity is hard at this moment.
But Darcy returns punctually, and comes over to Longbourn with his friend; and in a walk undertaken by several of the young people, in which Elizabeth is Darcy’s companion, she musters courage to thank him as the only member of the family who knows how much they owe him for what he has done for her sister.
Darcy is surprised, but perhaps not sorry to have such an opening given to a shy man. “If you will thank me,” he says, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on I shall not attempt to deny; but your family owe me nothing, much as I respect them; I believe I thought only of you.”
Elizabeth is too embarrassed to say a word.
After a short pause her companion adds, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on the subject for ever.”