Chapter XVI

The following day the sportsmen went out early and returned late, and as some friends from the neighbourhood were dining at Desborough, there was no opportunity for much conversation between the young ladies and Mr. Bingley's guests. Kitty passed their chief of the day in writing a long letter to Mrs. Knightley, and Georgiana was taken possession of by Miss Bingley, who wished to practice vocal and instrumental duets. Miss Bingley had a good deal to say, during the intervals of their performance, about Mr. Price, whom she acknowledged she liked very much, and she endeavoured to prove to Georgiana, by a number of arguments, the improbability of his having any matrimonial intentions in general, and towards Kitty in particular. Georgiana would not discuss the point with her. Her own esteem for Mr. Price depended on his not disappointing Kitty, and she would admit no suspicion which might imperil it.

On the third afternoon, the shooting party having returned earlier on account of bad weather, they were all assembled in the library. Bingley was showing Mr. Bertram some hunting prints that hung on the walls, and the rest were gathered round the fire, the ladies sitting, and William Price leaning on the overmantel glancing at the pieces of porcelain and the miniatures arranged upon it.

"What beautiful little Chinese figures these are, Mrs. Bingley," he suddenly exclaimed. "They are genuinely old, are they not? A man I know brought back just such a pair from Hong Kong, and I know he regarded them as priceless. I do not think they can be imitated in Europe."

"Yes, I believe they are really old," replied Mrs. Bingley. "I do not know the history of them, but they have been in Mr. Bingley's family for a long time, and they are special favourites of his; perhaps you can tell us, Caroline?"

Miss Bingley was beginning to speak when she was interrupted by a cry of dismay from Mr. Price. He had taken the little figure in his hand to examine it more closely, and the head had immediately fallen off and rolled on the hearth. Fortunately a thick rug had received it, and after a search it was discovered intact; but Mr. Price was overwhelmed with self-reproach for his carelessness, until stopped by Mrs. Bingley saying: "You need not mind, Mr. Price, for it was not in the least your fault. The head was broken off already. Look, it has been slung between the shoulders by a piece of wire. I should have mended it, but could not manage to attach a new length of wire."

"I am relieved to find I am not the guilty party," said Mr. Price; "that is, if you are quite sure, Mrs. Bingley."

"Indeed I am; and Kitty," she added, turning toward her sister, "perhaps you can help me to clear Mr. Price's character. Do you happen to know anything about the breaking of this little mandarin? We found it so a few days after you left, and no one in the house could account for it. I have always meant to ask you about it, but had forgotten until now."

Owing to the comparative dimness of the firelight, Jane was unable to perceive her sister's growing confusion; but it became evident in the embarrassed pause which followed her question. Kitty began to speak, broke off, and began again, stumbling over her words: "I had thought it had been broken--that is, I knew it had--but something put it out of my head--I forgot it too till now."

"What a pity you did not mention it," said Miss Bingley severely; "it might have been worse injured next time it was touched by anyone not knowing the head was loose."

"Oh, well, never mind, dear Kitty," said Jane kindly; "it does not matter; it can easily be repaired, no doubt."

Kitty, on the verge of tears, looked distressfully from one to the other, torn between her dislike to recalling the occasion, and her desire to exonerate herself in the eyes of William Price. The latter consideration prevailed, and addressing Jane, she murmured with deepest blushes; "It was not I who broke it, it was Mr. Morland."

"Mr. Morland!" repeated Jane, perplexed. "Yes, it was that last morning he was here. We--he was in the library, you know. He had the Chinese figure in his hand, and I recollect noticing it was in two pieces. I never thought of it again until now, and I suppose he forgot it too."

Kitty's self-consciousness, increased as it was by the knowledge that Jane and Georgiana would now perfectly understand the reason for the disaster which had befallen the porcelain ornament, quite mystified her other two hearers, to whom the explanation taken by itself would have been sufficiently simple. All they could plainly perceive was that the association of Mr. Morland with the incident made Kitty extremely uncomfortable, and they were left to draw what conclusions they might by her hasty departure from the room. William Price, with a delicacy of feeling for which Georgiana's heart went out to him, immediately filled up the moment of awkwardness by reverting to the original subject of their discussion, which he still held in his hand. "At any rate," he said, smiling, "I have helped to decapitate this poor mandarin, so it seems only fair that I should try to mend him. Have I your permission, Mrs. Bingley? I believe, with a fresh bit of wire and some sealing-wax, I could make him nod as benevolently as ever."

Bingley was called upon to produce the necessary articles, and being warned by a glance from his wife not to pursue his inquiry as to whether they had discovered who had damaged the old fellow, the incident seemed likely to arouse no further remark. Georgiana evaded Miss Bingley's eyes, and went away as soon as she could to Kitty's room, finding her friend lying upon the bed and weeping bitterly.

"Georgiana, what must he have thought?" she began instantly, throwing herself into her friend's arms. "Why did Jane ask me that unfortunate question, just at that time? It could not have happened worse. I was thinking about it a little, because, you know, I had not been in that room since Mr. Morland and I were there together. We were standing in just the same place as we were all in to-night, and it made me quite miserable to remember it. And now Mr. Price will not know what to think, hearing Mr. Morland's name like that. He will suspect something, and perhaps it will prevent him from speaking. I wish we were back at Pemberley; I knew things would never go so well here again."

Georgiana comforted her, assured her that what had happened would never make the slightest difference to Mr. Price, laughingly reproached her with having run away, saying that no one would have perceived anything out of the ordinary but for that, and counselled her to behave just as usual when she met the others again, and everything would be forgotten. Nevertheless, Kitty was far from comfortable during the rest of their stay, and was in continual expectation of some occurrence which might affect Mr. Price's attitude towards her, although the cheerful friendliness of his manner never varied.

This apprehension rendered her particularly uneasy the following day, which was Sunday. They all went to church, where the service was read by a stranger, and Kitty's sensibility was sorely tried by having to listen to various questions asked by their visitors during the walk back. Was that the regular clergyman? He was absent; ah, indeed! Was he a pleasant neighbour? a good preacher? And so that was the Rectory; what a commodious, attractive-looking house! No doubt the parson was a married man, and he was certainly a lucky fellow to be so circumstanced, commented Mr. Bertram. Bingley made brief answers out of compassion for Kitty, and Jane began a conversation with the two girls about something different; but she could not attend. It was so distressing to think of Mr. Morland, whom Bingley praised so highly and whom the others thought so enviable, having been driven away from home on her account; that a man so charming and so desirable should have fallen in love with her when she was not able to care for him. There seemed something particularly unfortunate, particularly wasteful, about the whole affair! If he had been a Mr. Collins, that nobody, not even Maria Lucas, would have minded refusing! Poor Kitty walked home silently, and as far from Mr. Price as possible, with her muff held up to conceal a countenance which she knew was unfit to be seen.

On Monday, Bingley and Mr. Bertram went out hunting, and the ladies, escorted by Mr. Price, drove to the spot where the foxhounds were to meet, in the hope of seeing a little sport. Bingley had offered to mount Mr. Price also, but the latter had declined, laughingly declaring that, like all sailors, he was not much of a horseman, and though he had once hunted from Mansfield Park when he was a careless youngster, he thought it would be wiser not to venture over the Derbyshire country, with its rough moors and high stone walls, on a borrowed horse. "It is most kind of you, Mr. Bingley," he said; "and for my cousin, it is all right, for he has hunted here before. But I am sure you would not be pleased, if you saw me come crashing down at the first big fence, with your hundred-guinea hunter doubled up in the further ditch."

The ladies held up hands of horror, but Bingley, much amused, said he would not believe a word of it, and that he felt sure Mr. Price could ride as well as he could shoot. William shook his head.

"I have ridden all sorts of horses at different times, when occasion has required it, and have even managed to adhere to the animal as a rule; but my good luck might desert me to-day. Perhaps you will let me go for a jogging ride along the lanes before I go, on your least valuable horse."

"Seeing that I am in charge of you just now, William, I highly applaud your decision," said his cousin, "as I don't want to have to send you back to Portsmouth with a broken neck, which is certainly what could happen."

"You in charge of me! I like that," exclaimed William. "Say much more, and I will borrow a gypsy's donkey and come to meet you on it, announcing to everybody that I am bringing along your second mount."

Mrs. Bingley was a little afraid of the cold wind, and decided not to go, so Mr. Price took his seat in the barouche with the other three, and greatly enhanced the gaiety of their party. They drove about for more than two hours, and when at last, the hunt having gone away among the hills, they decided to turn homewards, Mr. Price created consternation among his fair companions by asking permission to get out and walk.

"Walk, Mr. Price?" exclaimed Miss Bingley, who, placed on the front seat, had assumed the direction of the party. "Why should you want to walk? And in this desolate wilderness! Why, we must be six or seven miles from home."

"Yes, I thought it was about that," said William "I rather wanted a walk, and do you know, I like this desolate wilderness, as you call it. I should enjoy exploring my way homewards, and I have noted all the landmarks. It is so cold, too; a splendid day for a walk."

"Oh, Mr. Price, do not go; we are all so snugly tucked in here," said Kitty imploringly.

"Oh, if you prefer walking, pray do not let us detain you," said Miss Bingley, speaking at the same moment, and in rather an offended voice.

William looked in surprise from one to the other; it had evidently not occurred to him for one moment that he would be missed by any of them. Unconsciously, his eye sought Georgiana's, and she said quickly: "Mr. Price must be cold with sitting still so long; I expect he would enjoy a walk. It really is not so far; from the top of the hill one can see Kympton Church, I know, and on foot one can take an almost straight route."

The carriage had stopped and the servants awaited their orders. William remained irresolute; he had one lady's leave to go, another was doing her best to appear indifferent, and the third plied him with entreaties not to break up their comfortable little party. Georgiana was amused, but also a little ashamed to see Caroline and Kitty, for once united in the object of their wishes, showing those wishes so plainly. It was clear that William Price felt the awkwardness thus created, for his hesitation only lasted a second or two, and he said lightly: "Why, of course, I will not get out, if it would be disturbing anybody. Probably the negotiation of those short cuts would make me very late for dinner. Shall they drive on?"

Miss Bingley gave the order in a dignified tone, and assured him that he had done wisely to desist, for he certainly would have been late. Georgiana could not help remarking that it was a pity he should have missed his walk, for the others would not be in before five; but he gave her a glance and a half smile, which showed her that he was not allowing it to trouble him. Kitty, delighted that Mr. Price had given this proof of a wish to please him, talked all the way home, and described with great animation several _dreadful_ walks that Bingley had taken her on the moors, when, according to her account, they had narrowly escaped death on many occasions--wild cattle, dangerous bogs, rushing torrents and venomous snakes being among the risks to be encountered on such expeditions.

Mr. Price listened with interest, but his courage did not appear to be shaken, for as soon as they descended from the carriage, he paused only to glance at the clock, and to divest himself of his heavy coat, before asking Miss Darcy if she would accompany him on a walk. "It will be as short as, or as long, as brisk or as leisurely, as you are disposed for," he said, and Georgiana declined with real regret.

"I should have enjoyed it very much, Mr. Price, but I think I had better not; it is rather late, and the others may be wanting me before dinner. Besides," she added, as she saw his disappointed look, "I know you want a good walk, and you can go further if you have not to adapt yourself to the slow paces of a lady."

"I should esteem it an honour to have to adapt myself to yours," replied William Price, with the quick, bright smile which was so noticeable in him.

"We must all go together to-morrow morning," said Georgiana, as she turned away. "Mr. Bingley can show us what is the best direction. I hope it will keep fine, but it looks very like snow."

Mr. Price did not move from where he stood for some minutes, and Georgiana, as she ascended the stairs, felt strongly to return and accede to his suggestion, but the fear that Kitty would not like it withheld her. She wished that he had asked Kitty instead, or as well, for although anyone might well have assumed--after the descriptions she had given--that a country walk, for its own sake, was to her the most uncongenial form of amusement, yet Georgiana knew well that it would be viewed in a very different light were a particular companion available.

The promised walk did not take place, for the snow, which had been threatening, fell the following day, not thickly, but with enough of fog and dampness in the atmosphere to make the fireside seem by far the most agreeable place. The gentlemen shot in the first part of the morning, but returned home soon after one, ready for any entertainment that they might be expected to provide or be provided with; and Tom Bertram's inclinations, as usual, were in favour of the former. Not being a card-player, or enthusiast for music, and having found Mr. Bingley to be at billiards an adversary unworthy of his skill, he was obliged to seek some other method of spending a winter's afternoon, and without hesitation he broached to the assembled party his idea that they should act some charades.

Mrs. Bingley looked doubtful, and William Price gave his cousin no support; but the notion was warmly taken up by Bingley, his sister and sister-in-law, and Mr. Bertram set himself to persuade Mrs. Bingley that, next to a real play, charades were the most delightful things imaginable, and that they had a party collected about them remarkably well qualified to undertake any and every kind of character.

His hostess proved not difficult to persuade when she perceived what pleasurable anticipations were aroused by the suggestion; and only needed to be assured by her husband that it was a capital notion, and the young people would thoroughly enjoy it, to promise help of whatever kind was needed. William Price was ready to enter into it, when it became evident that it was the general wish; and even Georgiana began to be interested, and concealed her nervousness at the idea of taking part.

"You need not be frightened, Georgiana," said Miss Bingley; "all you will be required to do is to stand perfectly still and assume a particular expression. Louisa and I have often taken part in them; there is no acting, it is all the pose."

"Excuse me, Miss Bingley," interposed Mr. Bertram, "the kind of charades I propose we should do involves a certain amount of movement--acting, in short; and others require impromptu speeches. I recollect once, at the house of my friend--"

"I am sure you are mistaken, Mr. Bertram; the correct charade is not acting at all; it is simply a series of pictures, or tableaux, to represent the various syllables."

The discussion threatened to become keen, especially when the two younger girls joined in protesting that they could not possibly recite any impromptu speeches; but Bingley finally settled the point by agreeing with Mr. Bertram's vehement assertion that it would be much more amusing if they acted their parts, and that he could show them how to do it in such a way that no speaking would be necessary, though Miss Bingley doubted if _all_ the company would be equal to such a demand upon their capabilities.

The next point was to choose the words, a matter of prodigious importance, for which many books were brought out and consulted, and the merits and possibilities of each word exhaustively debated. It was not until they renewed the consideration of the subject at the dinner-table that they made the discovery that if all of them were to appear in different scenes of the same charade, there would be no one left to guess the meaning.

"This becomes really serious," said Bingley. "If it was a play, we could act to ourselves, and the chairs and tables, and be perfectly happy; but the very existence of a charade is threatened if no one is ignorant of it. And from what I hear of intended costumes, it will take the rest of the evening for our preparations, so that we shall be ready to begin the performance just as our ladies have to leave us to-morrow."

"But who is leaving to-morrow? Not Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy?" exclaimed Tom Bertram in real alarm. "This cannot be allowed. Pray, Mr. Bingley, use your authority. I am sure they could remain another day."

"Oh, yes, I am sure we could," cried Kitty; "they could not wish us to miss the charades--it would spoil everything if we could not be here."

Bingley looked at Georgiana and asked her, smiling, if she thought it could be managed, but she had already given an imploring, though unheeded, glance towards Kitty, and now replied, in a low voice: "It is very kind of you, but we ought not to stay, I am sure. The carriage will be coming for us, and we ought not to detain it for a whole day."

"What does it matter, Georgiana," Kitty exclaimed, "only for one day! Elizabeth will not mind. Don't you care about the charades, and about putting a stop to the whole thing? We can easily be spared, if that is what you are thinking; the ball is not until Friday."

Georgiana, blushing, and distressed by finding herself the object of attack, was endeavouring to maintain her ground without giving offence, when Jane came to her assistance.

"Georgiana is perfectly in the right," she said, "and sorry though I am to lose them both, there is no doubt that they will be expected back to-morrow without fail. But that is no reason why the charades need be given up, for as we shall all be coming over to Pemberley on the following day, we can give them there that evening, if my sister and Mr. Darcy will consent to be audience, and our performance to-night will serve as a kind of rehearsal."

This suggestion was enthusiastically received, as it met all difficulties, and Kitty forgot to reprove Georgiana for hurrying her away, in the contemplation of the news with which they would return home, and the delightful bustle of preparation that would ensue. Jane and Bingley had not quite the same views, and they spoke privately to Georgiana before she left, asking her to take a message begging Elizabeth and Darcy not to put themselves to any trouble about the arrangements for the stage, which need only be of the very simplest nature, a sufficiency screen and lamps being all that would be asked for.

The rehearsal proceeded in admirable style. Mr. Bertram had constituted himself stage-manager, and gave everyone minute instructions as to their movements and attitudes, shouted directions from the midst of an imaginary audience, and hastened at the last moment to take his place in the scenes where he was required to be actor as well. With some assistance from Mr. Bingley, he had allotted the various parts, and as he was so fortunate as to be able to regard all four ladies from an absolutely impartial standpoint, his judgments were, on the whole, tolerably good; although the usual difficulties of such an occasion arose, and had to be smoothed away, as, for instance, when Mrs. Bingley positively declined to play a part which required any acting, although she was the only person who looked the Queen to perfection; or when Miss Darcy wanted to give up an important part to Miss Bennet, whom it did not suit at all, simply because the latter was anxious to wear the dress that went with it; or when Miss Bingley desired to represent both Lady Macbeth and Joan of Arc, and could not be made to understand that she could take only one, on account of the necessity for passing quickly from one scene to another. All, however, was amicably arranged before the evening ended, and when the others went to bed, Tom Bertram sat up, desperately writing lists of the properties and accessories which he deemed necessary to the performance.