Page 22 of Such Low Connections

“I will listen to nothing ill about old Mr Darcy, who showed me and my family such kindness,” he said firmly. “Nor need I rely on falsehoods to explain a failed friendship or my personal opinion of Mr Darcy, when my own experience already provides ample justification for both.”

This seeming to draw a line under the uncomfortable matter, their conversation then turned by mutual consent back to the ball at Netherfield Park in a week’s time. By now, Mary had been induced to take to the pianoforte, and the carpet rolled up at the other end of the room for dancing.

“Will all the officers be in attendance at the Netherfield ball, Mr Wickham?” Elizabeth enquired. “I know that my younger sisters are most anxious that you should. There is not always a good supply of capable and energetic dancing partners in this neighbourhood.”

“With all the Miss Bennets in attendance, how could we not?” George Wickham returned gallantly. “The invitation to Colonel Forster included all his officers and I, for one, intend to accept it.”

“You will not allow Mr Darcy’s presence there to influence you?” Elizabeth wondered, pleased to hear of Mr Wickham’s intentions but uncertain whether this would be wise. “After what I have heard this afternoon, I could not blame you for keeping away.”

The smiling lieutenant shook his head and spoke with great firmness of resolve.

“My own behaviour has been blameless, and it is not for me to be driven away. If Darcy wishes to avoid me, let him keep away from the ball. I shall only try to stay out of his way.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Elizabeth told him. “Like my sisters, I am keen that amiable dancing partners should not be in short supply. We cannot expect a man of Mr Darcy’s dignity to condescend to dance with us, after all.”

Mr Wickham smiled again at this implied compliment to himself and mild slight to Mr Darcy, indicating that he would not be at all averse to dancing with Elizabeth and her sisters at Netherfield Park.

“It is a shame, is it not, that a man with all Darcy’s advantages of rank, fortune and person should have such a deficient character?” Mr Wickham put to her then. “How much I should have done in the world, if I had been born to even half of his good luck!”

Elizabeth had to agree. She could not say that Mr Darcy was a wicked or vicious man, but from what she had seen herself, and now what she had heard from Mr Wickham, it did seem that he had paid life back poorly for all the graces it had bestowed on him.

As Mr Wickham had said, Mr Darcy possessed high rank, considerable fortune, a quick mind, and a person that was not displeasing in its essential measures, being tall, well-made and fine of feature, despite his scowls. He might have been universally known and liked wherever he went, and used his influence generously for the benefit of George Wickham and others less fortunate, rather than disdaining them.

“Do not envy Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth urged. “A fair character is worth more than all the advantages you list.”

“But it does not pay the bills,” said Mr Wickham with a smile, and they both laughed.

∞∞∞

“How red-faced and cross you look, Lizzy!” remarked Charlotte Lucas with a smile when the two young ladies met in the retiring room an hour later. “Have you not been lucky with your cards? Or have Lydia and Kitty been testing your patience?”

Elizabeth examined herself in the mirror and sighed.

“I do look cross, don’t I? Oh, if only Mr Collins would let me be. He seems everywhere I turn this afternoon, and I cannot get away from him.”

“His visit has been a long one, I think,” said Charlotte tactfully.

“Far too long!” Elizabeth replied. “He will stay another week yet, until the day after the Netherfield Park ball.”

“Your cousin enjoys dancing?” enquired her friend. “Not all clergymen consider it fitting to their professional dignity.”

“Sadly, Mr Collins is not such a clergyman,” came Elizabeth’s gloomy answer. “He has already asked me for the first two dances, Jane for the third, and then the younger girls for later dances too, much to their disgust. I had much rather dance with someone like Lieutenant Wickham, who has sense, conversation, and understanding.”

“What hardships you endure, dear Lizzy,” her friend teased her, and Elizabeth laughed a little.

“I should not take small things so much to heart, should I? At least I am not obliged to dance with Mr Darcy, I suppose. Now that would be an even worse fate than dancing with Mr Collins, especially after what I learned from Mr Wickham tonight.”

After checking that there were no other ladies outside the room’s door, Elizabeth narrated the tale of Mr Wickham’s suffering at Mr Darcy’s hands, with great indignance for all that young man had endured and praise for his forbearance.

To Elizabeth’s surprise, Charlotte’s first reaction was one of amusement.

“Do you not think it a very dreadful way to behave?” she demanded, wondering if she had not stated the unfairness of Mr Wickham’s disappointed hopes in sufficiently strong terms. “I cannot see what there is to laugh at in this story.”

“I laugh only at you, Lizzy,” Charlotte explained, piquing Elizabeth somewhat in this stance. “Why should you take Mr Wickham’s side so easily on so slight an acquaintance? Are you as swayed by a handsome face and a red coat as your younger sisters?”

At this, Elizabeth reddened, but rather than disputing Charlotte’s attitude, she had the sense to re-examine her own.

“I do not believe so, Charlotte,” she declared after some consideration. “In purely objective terms of features, you must concede that Mr Darcy is far more handsome than George Wickham. The lines of his face are classically drawn; his brow is fine, and his eyes are bluer. It is only a pity that he so rarely smiles enough to invite any appreciation of his looks.”