Chapter 59

For eleven years, I had not seen Joe nor Biddy with my eyes – when, upon an evening in December, an hour or two after dark, I laid my hand softly on the latch of the old kitchen door. I touched it so softly that I was not heard. There, smoking his pipe in the old place by the kitchen firelight, as strong as ever, though a little gray, sat Joe; and there sitting on my own little stool looking at the fire, was – I again!

“We gave him the name of Pip for your sake, dear old chap,” said Joe, delighted, when I took another stool by the child’s.

“Biddy,” said I, when I talked with her after dinner, as her little girl lay sleeping in her lap, “you must give Pip to me one of these days; or lend him.”

“No, no,” said Biddy, gently. “You must marry.”

“I don’t think I shall, Biddy. I am already quite an old bachelor.”

“Dear Pip,” said Biddy, “tell me as an old, old friend. Have you quite forgotten her?

“My dear Biddy, I have forgotten nothing in my life. But that poor dream, as I once used to call it, has all gone by, Biddy – all gone by!”

Nevertheless, I knew, while I said those words, that I secretly intended to visit the site of the old house that evening, alone, for her sake. Yes, even so. For Estella’s sake.

I had heard of her as leading a most unhappy life, and as being separated from her husband, who had used her with great cruelty, and who had become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, and brutality. And I had heard of the death of her husband, from an accident consequent on his ill-treatment of a horse.

I walked over to the old spot before dark. There was no house now, no building whatever left, but the wall of the old garden. I pushed the gate in the fence open, and went in.

When I was looking along the desolate garden walk, I noticed a solitary figure in it. As I came nearer, I saw it to be the figure of a woman. Then it uttered my name, and I cried out —

“Estella!”

“I am greatly changed. I wonder you know me.”

The freshness of her beauty was indeed gone, but its indescribable majesty and its indescribable charm remained.

We sat down on a bench that was near, and I said, “After so many years, it is strange that we should thus meet again, Estella, here where our first meeting was! Do you often come back?”

“I have never been here since.”

“Nor I.”

The moon began to rise. Estella said, “I have very often hoped and intended to come back, but have been prevented by many circumstances. Poor, poor old place! The ground belongs to me. It is my only possession. Everything else has gone from me, little by little, but I have kept this. And you, – you live abroad still?”

“Still.”

“And do well, I am sure?”

“I work pretty hard for a sufficient living, and therefore – yes, I do well.”

“I have often thought of you,” said Estella.

“Have you?”

“Very often.”

“You have always held your place in my heart,” I answered.

And we were silent again until she spoke.

“So, be as considerate and good to me as you were, and tell me we are friends,” said Estella.

“We are friends,” said I, rising and bending over her, as she rose from the bench.

I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and in tranquil light I saw no shadow.

Джейн Остин. Гордость и предубеждение / Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 1

Everybody knows that a single man in possession of a good fortune must look for a wife.

When such a man enters a neighbourhood, the surrounding families begin to think, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

“But it is,” returned she.

Mr. Bennet made no answer.

“Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently.

“What is his name?”

“Bingley.”

“Is he married or single?”

“Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”

“How so? How can it affect them?”

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them. When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to think about their future. My dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood. Consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them.”

“My daughters have nothing to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all silly and ignorant like other girls.”

Mr. Bennet was a mixture of quick mind, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she treated herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; she adored visiting and news.

Chapter 2

Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who told Mr. Bingley about his coming. Observing his second daughter decorated a hat, he suddenly told her:

“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”

“We will never know what Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother, “if we do not visit him.”

“And what will you say, Mary? You are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts.”

Mary wished to say something sensible, but did not know how.

“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. Bingley. I have actually paid the visit, so we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”

The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; Mrs. Bennet began to declare that it was what she had expected all the time.

“How good it was of you, my dear Mr. Bennet! I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am!”

“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you want,” said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room.

“What an excellent father you have, girls!” said she, when the door was shut. Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I can say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.”

“Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid; I am the youngest, but I’m the tallest.”

Chapter 3

Mr. Bingley was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.

“If I can see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had hoped to see young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father.

Mr. Bingley was going to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only six with him from London – his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether – Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.

Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant look, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women. His brother-in-law merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen declared him to be a real man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening. But his manners made his popularity go down. Hew was very proud and he was above his company.

Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, and was angry that the ball closed so early. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Miss Bingley, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth Bennet was sitting by the wall. Mr. Darcy was standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to force his friend to join it.

“Come, Darcy,” said he, “Dance! I hate to see you standing here in this stupid manner.”

“I certainly shall not. There is no woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to dance with.”

“Oh,” cried Mr. Bingley, “Upon my honour, I never met so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

“Yes, she is the most beautiful person I ever met! But there is one of her sisters sitting just behind you, who is very pretty, and very agreeable.”

“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth. He withdrew his eyes and coldly said: “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to bother me. My friend, you are just wasting your time with me.”

Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked out; and Elizabeth did not have cordial feelings toward him.

But in general the evening went pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Bennet was very glad. Mr. Bingley had danced with her eldest daughter twice. Jane was happy, too. Elizabeth felt Jane’s pleasure. Catherine and Lydia had been lucky enough never to be without partners. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived.

“Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet,” said Mrs. Bennet as she entered the room, “we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Everybody said how well Jane looked; and Mr. Bingley danced with her twice! Only think of that, my dear; he actually danced with her twice! and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses.”

Then she told about the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.

“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy did not lose much; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man. He walked here, and he walked there, I quite detest this man.”