Page 3 of Mrs Darcy’s Dilemma

“I confess that they are. And to my sister. Last time the entire Wickham family visited the Bingleys at Swanfield, they came for Christmas and stayed for nearly four months. Such wild, badly- behaved, rampaging, dirty children! Bingley and my sister were quite out of patience.”

“That is hard to believe, knowing the Bingleys. And as they have only one child, and have always wished for more, I suspect they really liked the house being noisy and full.”

“I wonder what the girls are like now. I have not seen them since they were small. Betty is twenty, and Cloe is seventeen. That is right; she was born in the same year as our Jane.”

“No doubt they are much like their mother. Two Lydias, I daresay. And stubborn, the younger one, she says.”

“It may be no such thing. If Lydia says she is stubborn, she probably has the temper of an angel. But I have little hope that Lydia has instructed her daughters any better than she was instructed herself. My poor dear mother, rest her soul, was not a sensible woman, and she unwisely indulged Lydia. You see the result. But I am sorry, I do not mean to bore you with these old rememberings.”

“My dear, bore me! You are speaking of your family,” said Darcy seriously, “and I really believe that the only thing for it is to invite these two girls to stay.”

Elizabeth was rejoiced. “You don’t mean it, dearest Darcy! You don’t know what you are saying.”

“I think I do,” he said with a smile. “If they really are two young Lydias, heedless, husband-hunting, and noisy, we can send them back home readily enough. But if there is something in them, if they are deserving girls, then some time away from their mother, enjoying the advantages of Pemberley, and most of all, of your company, my dear, may benefit them very much.”

“And they really may catch husbands,” said Elizabeth archly. Then she had a sudden thought. “But, heavens! Darcy! Can it be right? They are at a dangerous age indeed. What if they should take it into their heads to fall in love with Fitzwilliam or Henry?”

“Let us flatter ourselves,” said Darcy, “that our sons would never think of making such an imprudent match. They have been properly brought up and know their duty in such matters. They are both good lads in the main, although Fitzwilliam is heedless, and I cannot deny that the younger is the ancienter gentleman.”

“That is right—praise the child, and you make love to the mother,” said Elizabeth, pleased.

Darcy smiled. “I have few fears for them on this point. If anything, they are both too sober in company, as I was in my young days, and having some lively young people about can only be of advantage to them. I am not afraid that they will want to marry their poor cousins, who probably will scarcely know how to comport themselves as ladies.”

“Could you want to see such a mistress of Pemberley!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

“Happily, it is impossible that I ever shall,” said Darcy, coolly.

“And, Elizabeth, although you seldom say or do a foolish thing, if you worry about such an eventuality I shall begin to accuse you of it. It will be pleasant for Jane to have some young women visitors. She is too solitary, with only Henry for company.”

“And he will soon be going away. I am glad he is to have the living of Manygrove, however; it is not as far off as Branton. He shall be very often here.”

“Branton is a larger parish. The living is more remunerative there, but in these reformed days a clergyman must not have two livings, and I am satisfied that Henry has made a wise choice. And some day, of course, he will have Lambton Vicarage.”

“Oh, don’t say so; I hate to think of anything happening to dear Dr. Clarke, he is such a satisfactory Incumbent. I do hope Henry will be at Manygrove for years and years. It is only five miles from Lambton, and I am so thankful there need be no real break-up of our family circle.”

“Yes; Henry is as home-loving as he is sensible. I am sure he pleases you in that.”

“Certainly. To have Henry settled near Pemberley is the most delightful thing that could be. Oh, Mr. Darcy, thank you, thank you for your goodness. It is a real weight off my mind to think that poor Lydia may be cheered by her children’s visit here.

Do you know,” she continued, “when first she brought—trouble—on our family, I really hated her.”

“Did you, Elizabeth? You talk of hate, but I don’t believe you ever felt it. Hate is so foreign to you.”

“It is so obliging of you to invent virtues for me, my love. After five-and-twenty years, you ought to know that I can hate as well as the next woman. But ‘anger is a short madness’ you know, and I was never mad. I did fear that her disgrace would be a perpetual torment for us all and the pain for my poor father not to be done away with in a hurry. But time has done the business; we have not forgotten the past, but we have grown used to its effects. Poor Lydia has paid for her imprudence, over and over again, if ever a woman has. No; for these many years, I have felt only compassion for her.”

“That is right. And her sins ought not to be allowed to spoil her children’s lives as well. So we shall be glad to have Miss Betty and Miss Cloe here,” added Darcy. “Tell them so.”

“Oh, I will! I will!” cried his wife, running away to her writing-desk.