Pride and Prejudice and Kitties, стр. 9

exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s commission in the ________ shire. She had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, and had Mr. Wickham appeared Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed the windows now except a few of the officers, who in comparison with the stranger, were become “stupid, disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Philipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Philips protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards.

UPON ENTERING MRS. Philips’s rooms with his cousins, Mr. Collins was immediately struck with the size and elegance of the furniture. Why, he could walk under the sideboard without flattening himself in the least! The elegance of the apartments brought to mind Lady Cat’s pawing room where the chimney piece alone cost 800 mice!

The Bennet sisters were relieved when Mr. Wickham strolled into the room, for he was far beyond the other toms in catness, countenance, hair, and stride. Even his “mews” were rendered interesting by his skill in delivering them.

Wickham and Elizabeth were soon engaged in an intriguing conversation concerning Mr. Darcy. Wickham confirmed that Darcy was a most proud and disagreeable tom in spite of his fine figure and lush coat. In fact, said Wickham, he had been most ill-used by Mr. Darcy.

“I have been a disappointed cat, and my spirits will not bear solitude,” he confessed.

When the elder Mr. Darcy died, Wickham confided, he had bequeathed Wickham a field of catnip, 1,000 cans of Fancy Feast, and two extra lives, since old Mr. Darcy had only used seven of his own. However, the son (the present Mr. Darcy) had contrived to cheat Wickham out of this rich inheritance despite the fact that Wickham and Darcy were born in the same dresser drawer and spent the greatest part of their kittenhood wrestling and kicking each other!

I have been a disappointed cat, and my spirits will not bear solitude.

“This is quite shocking! Mr. Darcy deserves to be publicly disgraced” cried Elizabeth.

On the carriage ride home, Elizabeth could think of nothing but what Wickham had related, while Lydia, her head full of the evening’s entertainment, talked incessantly of the fish she had lost and the fish she had won.

Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told, the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity however was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in an hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham—“his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself—for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”

Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday—Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth very warmly,—“I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”

. . .

“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”

“I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man.” Wickham only shook his head.

“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”

“I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when

I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ______ shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”

“Oh! no—it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim to all the world, a sense of very great ill usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and every thing, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.”

TENDER-HEARTED JANE WAS shocked to hear the unfortunate tale of Darcy and Wickham from Elizabeth the next