Page 18 of Missing
"I still remember meeting you at Madeline's house when you were about six or seven.
Jane was a lovely little girl, and Lizzy had not yet been born.
You were such a well-behaved child, always close to your parents, and forever reading or resting in your father's or mother's arms." Mrs. Bennet continued without pause, and William listened with great respect, which only encouraged her to go on.
William observed those around him with curiosity.
He recognised the blonde with the serene smile as the girl he had once known many years ago.
Yet it did not escape him how Mrs. Bennet extolled her eldest daughter's beauty when, in his eyes, Elizabeth was far more beautiful and infinitely more engaging.
He was also curious about the future husband of Miss Jane Bennet.
The young man seemed cordial and amiable, but from the manner in which his mother-in-law praised him and his sisters answered questions for him, it was evident that he lacked both character and resolution.
He also noticed that Mr. Bingley's sisters looked at him with open contempt. Those women were unpleasant and haughty. What most struck William, however, was the younger sister's gaze. Although he had only just been introduced to her, he instinctively mistrusted her.
"And where is your mother, Mr. Dalton? I have not seen her in almost twenty years, and I should be delighted to speak with her," Mrs. Bennet said.
"I am sorry, Mrs. Bennet, but she did not accompany me. I travelled alone, yet I shall tell her that you remember her fondly, and perhaps, in the not-too-distant future, you may meet again," William replied.
"And why did you travel alone? Why have you come to visit us without your mother?" Mrs. Bennet asked in surprise.
"I came because I needed to speak with Miss Elizabeth and with your husband, Mrs. Bennet."
"With Lizzy and my husband? Why?" she asked, never imagining that such a solemn and handsome gentleman might be a suitor for her most rebellious daughter. Surely he would not wish for a wife more intelligent than himself and of so impertinent a disposition.
"Mother, we may speak later in more detail about Mr. Darlton's visit. Remember that we have guests, and we are preparing everything for dinner this evening," Elizabeth interposed, determined to prevent her mother from continuing to embarrass him.
"Oh, you are right, Lizzy. Mr. Dalton, today we are holding a special dinner in honour of my dear and beautiful Jane and her future husband. I hope you will join us, for I imagine you do not intend to return to London today."
"No, I do not intend to return to London yet, and I shall gladly accept your invitation. Now, if you will excuse me, I should like to speak to Mr. Bennet. It was a pleasure to meet you all," William said. He then kissed Elizabeth's hand, bowed, and left the room.
Jane looked at her sister and smiled, for she understood what was happening between Elizabeth and Mrs. Dalton's son. In London, she had already noticed their friendship, and Luke and Emily told her that almost every day Elizabeth spent there,
Mr. Dalton accompanied them to the park. Jane rejoiced in her sister's happiness, though she felt a little disappointment that Elizabeth had not confided in her. She had always thought of her as both sister and dearest friend, and had never imagined Elizabeth would hide such a matter from her.
Caroline, meanwhile, was incensed. She sensed all too well the reason for William Dalton's visit.
How she would have delighted in seeing Elizabeth wed to a man like Mr. Collins, so she might have enjoyed watching her rival bound to a foolish and unappealing husband.
That Dalton was indeed a merchant mattered little to Caroline; what vexed her most was that he was handsome and bore an air of distinction.
Caroline had never liked the impertinent Eliza, whom she deemed the very model of a self-sufficient woman who presumed to be more intelligent than all around her.
Yet the truth was that Caroline had always envied Elizabeth, for she was fully aware—despite every attempt to deny it—that Elizabeth was more beautiful, more intelligent, more refined, and, in truth, socially superior to herself.
"Eliza, does your friend live in London? I do not remember ever seeing him, and as you know, my sister and I mingle with the most prominent people in London society," Caroline asked, her frustration transparent.
"Mr. Dalton has been in town for less than six months. He is originally from Manchester," Elizabeth replied, perfectly aware of what Caroline intended.
"Manchester? It is indeed a fascinating city, known for its vibrant commerce. Is Mr. Dalton a tradesman like your uncle?"
"Yes. Mr. Dalton and my uncle are engaged in the import and export of fabrics. He resides with his mother in Gracechurch Street, near Cheapside," Elizabeth said with a calm smile, making clear that Caroline's opinion was of no consequence to her.
"If he is half as intelligent and amiable as uncle Gardiner, Mr. Dalton must be a man I should be glad to know better," Charles said, eager to counter his sister's poisonous insinuation.
"Thank you, Charles. I am sure Mr. Dalton would be equally glad to know you better," Elizabeth replied with sincere gratitude. She had always liked her brother-in-law, whose heart was invariably good.
"It is time for us to return to Netherfield, but we shall see you in only a few hours at dinner," Mr. Bingley said, judging it best to remove his sisters, for he suspected the Bennets were soon to receive important news.
Unfortunately, Caroline and Louisa gave him no peace in the carriage. He envied his brother-in-law, who was doubtless at Netherfield drinking and reading in peace.
"Charles, I hope you realise the damage you have done us and that you will offer an apology."
"Caroline, I have no idea what you mean, though I imagine you are eager to tell me, so do not keep me waiting," Mr. Bingley replied, weary of his sisters' ceaseless complaints.
"Even if you choose to pretend otherwise, I know you understand perfectly. You shall now have, not only a tradesman uncle, but also a tradesman brother-in-law. Such are the connections we must endure through your marriage to Jane Bennet."
"It seems to me that Mr. Dalton is honourable, and that is more important than any connection with someone dishonest," Mr. Bingley said firmly.
"Charles, you cannot be so na?ve as not to see what this means for our family, and especially for Caroline, who remains unmarried," Louisa scolded.
"I do not understand either of you. Our father was also a tradesman, and Jane Bennet is the daughter of a gentleman.
As for Caroline, she has been in society long before I met my Angel, so do not blame me if she has failed to secure a wealthy, well-connected husband," Mr. Bingley retorted.
"Caroline, Louisa, at present, I have only the fortune I inherited from our father's business.
I possess no estate, and I am not even a gentleman.
Whom did you expect me to marry? A countess or a duchess? "
"No, but someone like Georgiana Darcy," Caroline replied.
"Georgiana is still a girl, Caroline."
"She is sixteen, and in two or three years she shall be of age to marry. Had you married her, our family would now be accepted into the first circles."
Caroline and Louisa continued to lecture their brother the rest of the way, but he refused to answer.
Charles liked Miss Darcy very much; she was a shy young girl with a good heart.
It was precisely for that reason that he never told his sisters he could never be attracted to her and regarded her only as a little cousin.
When the Bingleys departed, Jane told her mother that she needed to repair her gown for the evening and asked Elizabeth to accompany her, for she had questions to ask. Mrs. Bennet spoke with Mrs. Hill about the last details of the menu and then retired for a nap, being quite exhausted.
"Mr. Bennet," Mr. Hill said cautiously, aware that his master disliked interruptions when engrossed in a book.
"Hill, if my wife requires me to assist her with anything, make an excuse—say that I am occupied with something of vital importance, or even that I have died. But for mercy's sake, do not disturb me."
"I am sorry, sir, but a Mr. Dalton wishes to speak with you."
"Dalton?" Mr. Bennet asked, somewhat perplexed. "Very well, show him in."
When William entered, Mr. Bennet thought he recognised the young man.
"You are Aaron's son! I heard he passed away only a few months ago.
Before you tell me the purpose of your visit, allow me to offer my condolences.
Your father was a man of uncommon intelligence, one of the most knowledgeable in the history of commerce I ever encountered.
On the few occasions we met, our conversations lasted hours. "
"Thank you, sir, for your condolences and your kind words. My father was indeed the best man I have ever known," William replied solemnly.
A brief silence followed, which Mr. Bennet broke with his usual sardonic tone.
"Well, my boy, I suppose you have not come to my study merely to admire my books—or me.
And I must confess that, no matter how I try, I cannot read your mind to discover the purpose of your visit," he said, smiling.
Seating himself, he put on his glasses, returned to his book, and added, "Sit down and tell me why you are here. "
William took a deep breath and, without hesitation, replied, "I am here to tell you that I love your daughter Elizabeth, and she loves me. Therefore, I wish to ask for her hand in marriage."
Mr. Bennet dropped both his glasses and his book. He had never imagined that such a solemn young man would appear before him to declare something of that nature.