Pride & Prejudice, ch. 46: When It Rains

Credit to Mónica Armiño.

 Let’s face it: we’ve all had days like this.

 I mean … okay, not all of us have experienced a blow to     one’s reputation in the form of a younger sister running off     with an army drop-out. I’d like to think that that’s pretty     specific to Regency English society. But I imagine that,     especially in a small community, the black sheep family     member can still do some sort of damage.

 What Lydia does (or rather, what she did two days ago, as     Jane’s letter had a messy address and didn’t reach Lizzy right  away) is pretty thoughtless. She leaves  her new BFF in     Brighton, interrupting her summer vacation,  and elopes …     with Wickham? It’s especially odd when contrasted with the  Bennet parents’ reactions: Ma Bennet is  “grieved” while Pa  Bennet seems at least willing to acknowledge the family’s     sorrow. Colonel Forster himself arrived to give them the     news—that is serious. Jane is hopeful that the marriage will  show that Wickham isn’t that bad. Keep in mind, the     reactions here are negative before everyone realizes how     irresponsible and foolhardy Wickham really is, and that’s not  even getting into the real bad stuff.

Letter #2 is so. Much. Worse. Although Lydia was apparently under the impression that she and Wickham were eloping, ding-dong Denny reports to the clueless Col. F that Wickham doesn’t have marriage (to Lydia) in mind. The colonel feels responsible enough to give chase, but Wickham doesn’t want to be caught. Jane thinks this is enough to not point fingers at the colonel and his airhead wife (David Shapard points out that, in fact, the hosts are culpable to some degree here, so Jane’s tender heart is skewing her judgment). She also believes that Wickham wouldn’t be despicable enough to run off with “a young woman of Lydia’s connections,” which is quite interesting, as previously some of the characters have talked about the Bennets’ “connections” in an indifferent or negative way. But in this context, clearly they mean something.

The kicker? Kitty apparently knew about Lydia’s newest crush and just kept mum about it. But, listen … does she really carry any of the blame here? This is Kitty we’re talking about. Like, it’s pretty ironic that the one person in the family (other than Mary) that no one listens to is the target of everyone’s anger because she didn’t speak up about Lydia’s crush. Can you imagine what would have happen if she had said something? Mrs. Bennet would start reminiscing about all the crushes she had when she was younger and everyone else—especially Mr. Bennet—would ignore her. Piss off, Bennet parents. 

Lizzy highly doubts that Lydia and Wickham will ever get married, as “how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared incomprehensible.” Wickham intends to marry for money, which Lydia doesn’t bring to the table. Lizzy seems to think that Lydia is partly culpable while also keeping in mind that “neither her virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy prey.” So … it’s a bit of a thorny issue. Lydia bears some degree of responsibility, but she is also a victim. Lizzy also recognizes that “[t]he mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence” has much bearing on Lydia’s misbehavior. We’ll return to this discussion later, once we have more insight on Lydia’s inner thoughts.

A distressed Lizzy gets up to track down the Gardiners, as she is anxious to get home (Mr. Bennet left for London, so the Bennets are bereft of any authority figure). Before she gets anywhere though, Darcy pops in* and sees the state she’s in. After sending a servant to fetch the Gardiners, he sits with Lizzy (aw) and she gives him the bad news. Lizzy considers it a forgone conclusion that she’ll never see Lydia again; compounding her sorrow is the anger she directs at herself for not outing Wickham as a scheming asshole. She dwells on this latter point, which is pretty human of her, though I still wonder how effective that would have been (especially if she would’ve been believed since her main source is Darcy, the widely-disliked snooty snob).

And then, through all this, Lizzy watches Darcy’s face fall and realizes at this precise moment that “she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain.” It almost seems unrealistic, but I think it makes sense. Before this morning, Lizzy had the luxury to contemplate her feelings and take her time, rather than rush to judgment as she has in the past. This newfound hesitation, though borne of previous experiences, is also why she ultimately didn’t tattle on Wickham: “I was afraid of doing too much,” she confesses. Unfortunately, this backfires on her twice now, suggesting that she has yet to find a good middle ground. Additionally, seeing Darcy look so sad seems to convince her that his pursuit of her was completely earnest, which seems to be the last puzzle piece in her figuring out her true feelings for him.

*beleaguered sigh*

Darcy decides to leave, though his parting words are 1000 times sweeter and empathetic than, you know, his last parting words. He says he’s sorry there’s nothing he can do for her and that even wishing he could sounds like he making it about himself. Once he goes away, Lizzy assumes that it’ll be the last time she’ll see him and takes a moment to reflect on the emotional roller coaster that she’s been on with him. The narrator pops up to offer some context for Lizzy’s seeming about-face on Darcy:

“If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection … [as opposed to] what is so often described as arising on a first interview with its object, and even before two words have been exchanged, nothing can be said in her defense, except that she had given somewhat of a trial to the latter method in her partiality for Wickham, and that its ill success might perhaps authorize her to seek the other less interesting mode of attachment.”

For added context, the narrator points to Lydia and Wickham as an example of what might happen when one of the two parties does believe in love at first sight. And … holy crap. That is one harsh counterargument.

The Gardiners return and of course agree to go to Longbourn at once to help out. Between packing and letting their Lambton friends know that they’re leaving, Lizzy has little time to mourn the conclusion of Darcy’s courtship. The Gardiners recognize that Lydia’s deviation affects all their nieces’ social standing, a point that Lizzy will eventually come back to.

Next time: Lizzy doesn’t hold back on her opinion about Wickham, the Bennets have a small reunion, and Jane tries to assuage Lizzy with middling results.

*This doesn’t appear to have been a visit that Lizzy expected, and given that it’s relatively early in the day, there has been speculation that he came purposefully to propose (P&P 1995 appears to play up this interpretation). But I’ve also heard some pushback on this interpretation—that Darcy would be too cautious to propose for the second time after spending two or three days with Lizzy.