Page 18 of Near Pemberley

Ordinarily, such tranquillity had always soothed him. Now, however, his thoughts remained wakeful. And among them, unexpectedly persistent, returned the recollection of the visitors he had encountered earlier that day.

It was a small circumstance, perhaps, one which, a few months before, he would hardly have remembered the following morning. Yet now it returned to him with unusual distinctness.

Not merely because the conversation had been agreeable. But because it had altered something in his understanding of himself.

He had resolved to examine his conduct honestly. He had determined – sincerely determined – to become less proud, less careless of others, less governed by habits of reserve which had too long passed with him under the name of discernment.

Yet resolutions formed in solitude are easily made. The difficulty lies in their practice. And today, for perhaps the first time, he had consciously attempted that practice.

Formerly, upon learning that visitors were in the house, he would almost certainly have avoided them, not from deliberate unkindness, but from long habit. He had never seen any necessity in making himself agreeable to strangers whose opinions could signify nothing to him.

Now he questioned that habit.

The recollection of Elizabeth’s voice – calm in accusation, severe in honesty – had risen before him upon hearing that Mrs. Reynolds was engaged with visitors.

You are the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.

The words retained power still. And with them came others, less painful perhaps, but more humbling.

Your manners impressed me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others.

He had once resisted the charge. He no longer could. And so, instead of withdrawing, he joined them. The scene returned to him now with remarkable clarity.

Mrs. Reynolds, upon perceiving him unexpectedly at the doorway, had started.

“Mr. Darcy!” she exclaimed. “Sir, I beg your pardon – we were just finishing.”

There had been in her manner that respectful alarm which servants often displayed when their master appeared unexpectedly among visitors. She had evidently prepared herself to dismiss the party at once.

Darcy remembered, too, his brief hesitation. The old instinct – the instinct to escape observation, to preserve distance – had still existed. But only for a moment. “Pray continue, Mrs. Reynolds,” he had said. “You must not allow me to interrupt the tour.”

Mrs. Reynolds looked almost surprised. “Very good, sir.”

It was then that the visitors themselves turned fully towards him.

He remembered noticing first that there was nothing remarkable in their appearance. They were respectably dressed, evidently genteel, though without display. Yet something in their countenance and manner engaged him more than appearances ordinarily did.

The gentleman stepped forward first. “Mr. Darcy, I presume,” said he. “Permit me to apologise if we intrude.”

“Not at all, sir.”

Mrs. Reynolds hastened to perform the introductions. “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, from London.”

Darcy bowed.

There had followed one of those pauses which, in former times, he might easily have allowed to lapse into stiffness. Yet conscious now of his own responsibility in such moments, he forced himself to continue. “I hope Mrs. Reynolds has shown you everything to your satisfaction.”

“Indeed, she has,” replied Mrs. Gardiner warmly. “Though I suspect we have exhausted both her patience and her knowledge with our many questions.”

Mrs. Reynolds looked genuinely affronted by the possibility. “Oh no, madam!”

Darcy found himself – somewhat unexpectedly – almost smiling. “I believe,” he said, “that Mrs. Reynolds considers Pemberley a subject upon which she can never be sufficiently questioned.”

The housekeeper coloured with pleased embarrassment. “Well, sir, there is not a finer place in Derbyshire.”

“Nor, I think,” said Mr. Gardiner, looking around with thoughtful admiration, “one more judiciously situated. The approach alone would justify its reputation.”

Darcy thanked him with simple civility, though inwardly he observed the remark with interest.