Page 5 of Wickham Likes 'Em Young
Just past midnight, Elizabeth and Jane had their usual post-event discussion as they helped each other prepare for bed. However, this particular post-event discussion turned out to be entirelyunusual.
Jane was usually the sister who had only positive things to say about everybody. Elizabeth usually prided herself on being a bit more discriminating, uttering witty observations of people’s faults as often as she dished out behind-their-backs praise. This particular assembly, however, had upended both ladies.
The discussion started normally, with Jane being extremely sweet and positive. “Mr Bingley is just what a young man ought to be,” Jane said. “He is sensible, good humoured, and lively.”
“He is handsome, too,” Elizabeth said, “which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can.”
“Yes,” Jane said, sounding quite enthralled. “He is so very handsome. And he has such happy manners, with such ease, and such perfect breeding.”
“I agree,” Elizabeth said. “He seems to be everything wonderful, and I give you leave to like him.”
Jane repeated her praises for Mr Bingley, using slightly different words and continuing to obtain Elizabeth’s agreementfor every pronouncement. Jane rattling on so, and thus dominating a discussion, was distinctly unusual. Elizabeth desperately wanted to bring up Mr Darcy, to ask if Jane had recognised him, and to relate to her the man’s warning about Mr Wickham. But every time she sensed a period in Jane’s paragraphs’ worth of praises, Jane launched into further rhapsodies over Mr Bingley.
It ended up being Jane who brought up Mr Darcy, and in a most un-Jane-like way: “I felt so sad for Mr Bingley that his friend was not at all well behaved.”
Elizabeth’s mouth popped open in an “O” of surprise to hear a criticism from her elder sister. She played the role Jane usually held and defended the man: “I do not think Mr Darcy acted so very ill.”
“Oh, Lizzy, he only danced the one dance with you, and then he left the dance floor for the entirety of the night!”
Elizabeth had certainly noticed that and had been a bit disappointed. Of course, she would have spent little time speaking with him, since she danced the rest of the night, and it would have been very strange for him to ask her for a second set—almost a declaration of his intention to court her, which was highly unlikely.
Indeed, Mr Bingley’s request to dance a second set with Jane had told the sisters—and their rapturous mother and any of the assembly attendees who noticed—that Jane could expect that he would call on her within the next few days. A courtship could well be in the offing.
Those thoughts flitted through Elizabeth’s head in an instant, and she opened her mouth to attempt a further defence. But Jane was still deeply in the role-reversal of being the judgemental one when discussing a person’s behaviour: “Poor Mr Bingley had to listen to both of his sisters go on and on about the fact that Mr Darcy did not stand up with them; he oughtto have, you know. They are his hostesses, after all. And he did allow a few introductions, but then he rudely walked off for some punch, curtailing Sir William’s attempts to introduce the entire party to the Gouldings and other families.”
Finally Jane paused long enough for Elizabeth to respond. “I am afraid that may have been my fault,” she said.
“Yourfault? How could you be responsible in any way for Mr Darcy’s behaviour?”
“Jane, I have to know, first of all, did you not recognise Mr Darcy?”
“Recognise him?” Jane’s expression indicated that, indeed, she had not.
“He was one of the men who grabbed the intoxicated man who was walking towards us, all those years ago, in London. When Mrs Drake became so ill, and we were all alone on the sidewalk?—”
“I remember the incident, Lizzy, of course. You are saying that Mr Darcy was there?”
“Yes; I recognised him right away. Even though it has been nine years—andwelook very different, of course, being grown now—I think that Mr Darcy looks just about the same, but with more…confidence, more consequence. He was a young man back then, and he is still a young man, but he is much more…masterful.”
“Much more full of himself, perhaps, is what you mean?” Jane suggested. “I still do not see how you are at fault for his rude behaviour.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I must say, Jane, you are not yourself. You have never been so harsh on a new acquaintance, in the past.”
Jane looked ready to defend herself, and Elizabeth hastened to apologise. She continued, “I mentioned that incident from nine years ago, thanking Mr Darcy for saving us, back then. And I could see that the memory, even the mention of MrWickham’s name, caused him pain. I apologised immediately for unknowingly causing an unpleasant recollection, and he was very decent. He asked me to dance, and then he removed himself for a few minutes to, it looked like to me, regain his equanimity. When we danced, he explained why the memory was painful. He…acted honourably, honestly, and decently.”
Jane said, “It looked to everybody else as if he acted in the most unfriendly way. I am certain that Mr Bingley and his entire party thought him very rude.”
Another thought flashed through Elizabeth’s brain. “I saw Mr Hurst go into the card room immediately after we were introduced. I am almost certain that he did not dance at all, nor did he meet very many people. Was Mr Bingley and his sisters upset with him, as well?”
At this point, both sisters had hung up their dresses and donned their night rails. They were brushing out their hair, and Jane waved the hand not holding a brush as if shooing away any concern about Mr Hurst. “It does not signify. He is married.”
Elizabeth cocked her head as she considered her words. “I suppose that, although they are much younger than Mama and Papa, the Hursts are excused from some of the expectations of dancing, but to my knowledge, nobody upset Mr Hurst with unhappy memories, and he certainly could have endured the introductions Sir William wished to make. I feel that you are being too critical of Mr Darcy, who did, after all, have the excuse that I inadvertently upset him.”
She put down her hairbrush and began to plait her thick, curly hair. Jane was just finishing her neat plait—her hair was so straight, both brushing and plaiting was ever so much easier for her—and when she looked up, she looked thoroughly surprised to hear Elizabeth’s justifications and explanations. But then Jane narrowed her eyes and suggested, “Mr Darcy was the one you thought was so handsome, was he not? Nine years ago?”
Elizabeth hoped that the dim light of a single candle and a banked fire would not reveal her blush. She said, “Well, anyone with eyes would admit that he is a handsome man. I just think you are being unfair to Mr Darcy if Mr Hurst is not held to comparable standards.”
Jane nodded, a very un-Jane-like smirk on her lips. “I understand, Lizzy. Very well, I give you leave to pretend as if Mr Darcy was not thoroughly unpleasant tonight.”
