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{-# LANGUAGE
DeriveGeneric
, DeriveTraversable
, TypeFamilies
, FlexibleInstances
, UndecidableInstances
, MultiParamTypeClasses
#-}
module Types where
import GHC.Generics
import Data.Aeson
import Data.Ix
import Data.Array.Unboxed
type Board = UArray Cell Bool
data Input = Input
{ id :: Int
, units :: [Unit']
, width :: Int
, height :: Int
, filled :: [Cell]
, sourceLength :: Int
, sourceSeeds :: [Int]
}
deriving (Show, Generic)
data V = V { x :: {-# UNPACK #-} !Int, y :: {-# UNPACK #-} !Int } deriving (Show, Eq, Ord, Generic)
instance Ix V where
range (V x0 y0, V x1 y1) = map (uncurry $ flip V) $ range ((y0, x0), (y1, x1))
index (V x0 y0, V x1 y1) (V x2 y2) = index ((y0, x0), (y1, x1)) (y2, x2)
inRange (V x0 y0, V x1 y1) (V x2 y2) = inRange ((y0, x0), (y1, x1)) (y2, x2)
rangeSize (V x0 y0, V x1 y1) = rangeSize ((y0, x0), (y1, x1))
instance Num V where
fromInteger i = V (fromInteger i) (fromInteger i)
V a b + V c d = V (a + c) (b + d)
V a b - V c d = V (a - c) (b - d)
(*) = undefined
abs = undefined
signum = undefined
type Cell = V
data Unit' = Unit { members :: Unit, pivot :: Cell } deriving (Show, Generic)
type Unit = [Cell]
instance FromJSON Input
instance FromJSON V
instance FromJSON Unit'
data Output = Output
{ problemId :: Int
, seed :: Int
, solution :: String
}
deriving (Show, Generic)
instance ToJSON Output
data Move = MoveW | MoveE | MoveSW | MoveSE | RotateCW | RotateCCW deriving (Show, Enum, Bounded)
data PosRot = PosRot { prPos :: V, prRot :: Int, prMod :: Int } deriving (Show, Eq, Ord, Ix)
type BoardVisited = UArray PosRot Bool
data Game = Game {
gboard :: Board,
gscore :: Int,
gsource :: [Unit],
gsolution :: [Move]
}
|
The statement below was released by the Party of the Labouring Masses (PLM), a Filipino socialist group, on July 1.
* * *
The PLM condemns any moves to pave the way for the return of US military base facilities in the Philippines. This includes giving the US access to Philippine military bases and facilities at Clark and Subic, as Defense Secretary Voltaire Gazmin has admitted has occured.
“The new senate hasn’t even convened as yet and this has already been put on the agenda,” said PLM chairperson Sonny Melencio. “It confirms the view that President [Benigno] Aquino did everything possible to ensure a Liberal Party majority in the senate, because this is his first agenda.”
“Aquino will undo the historic 1991 victory of the Filipino people, when the senate then voted against the US bases, during his mother’s [Corazon Aquino] administration. Reestablishing the US bases in the guise of ‘access’ could end up being the shameful legacy of this administration.
“The Aquino government has embraced the US strategic shift of focussing its military might in Asia. It also seems to have embraced the US anti-China policy.
“While we are opposed to China’s bullying tactics in the region, especially in relation to the West Philippines or South China Sea, it seems like Gazmin is champing at the bit to go to war with China.
“We consider the defense secretary’s statements and actions to be irresponsible. They endanger our nation and our people. We have no confidence that a warmongering defence secretary will serve the sovereign interests of the country.
“We therefore call for the resignation of Gazmin. We call on the Aquino administration to appoint a person who is genuinely committed to the peaceful resolution of the regional disputes with China and who will do their utmost to pursue such a goal.
“We also welcome the initiative taken by the Bayan Muna congress representative Neri Colmenares, in filing House Resolution No 08, calling for the scrapping of the RP-US Visiting Forces Agreement and the plans to give temporary access to Philippine military bases to American forces. We will campaign in support of this bill.” |
<gh_stars>1-10
/*
* Copyright 2019 The Android Open Source Project
*
* Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
* you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
* You may obtain a copy of the License at
*
* http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
*
* Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
* distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
* WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
* See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
* limitations under the License.
*/
package com.example.androidx.webkit;
import android.os.Bundle;
import android.webkit.WebView;
import androidx.annotation.Nullable;
import androidx.appcompat.app.AppCompatActivity;
import androidx.webkit.WebSettingsCompat;
import androidx.webkit.WebViewFeature;
/**
* An {@link android.app.Activity} to demonstrate small ("Quiet") interstitials. WebView displays a
* grey error page with very little text when it is sufficiently small (and loads a malicious
* resource).
*/
public class SmallInterstitialActivity extends AppCompatActivity {
@Override
protected void onCreate(@Nullable Bundle savedInstanceState) {
super.onCreate(savedInstanceState);
setContentView(R.layout.activity_small_interstitial);
setTitle(R.string.small_interstitial_activity_title);
WebkitHelpers.appendWebViewVersionToTitle(this);
WebView webview = findViewById(R.id.small_webview);
if (WebViewFeature.isFeatureSupported(WebViewFeature.SAFE_BROWSING_ENABLE)) {
WebSettingsCompat.setSafeBrowsingEnabled(webview.getSettings(), true);
}
webview.loadUrl(SafeBrowsingHelpers.MALWARE_URL);
}
}
|
/**
* Compute a single byte array message for a node and its children.
* Using {@code taskIdToBytes}, we pack all messages for a
* {@code TopologySimpleNode} and its children into a single byte array.
*
* @param node the target TopologySimpleNode to generate a message for
* @param taskIdToBytes map containing byte array of encoded data for individual Tasks
* @return single byte array message
*/
private byte[] encodeScatterMsgForNode(final TopologySimpleNode node,
final Map<String, byte[]> taskIdToBytes) {
try (ByteArrayOutputStream bstream = new ByteArrayOutputStream();
DataOutputStream dstream = new DataOutputStream(bstream)) {
final String taskId = node.getTaskId();
if (taskIdToBytes.containsKey(taskId)) {
dstream.write(taskIdToBytes.get(node.getTaskId()));
} else {
dstream.writeInt(0);
}
for (final TopologySimpleNode child : node.getChildren()) {
dstream.writeUTF(child.getTaskId());
final byte[] childData = encodeScatterMsgForNode(child, taskIdToBytes);
dstream.writeInt(childData.length);
dstream.write(childData);
}
return bstream.toByteArray();
} catch (final IOException e) {
throw new RuntimeException("IOException", e);
}
} |
// TODO: Overload hello() three times
class Human
{
public:
void Hello(Human human) { std::cout << "Hello Human! \n"; }
} |
def horizontal_scan_grad(self, row_index):
for i in range(1, self.width):
hor_grad = self.assess_gradient(self.image[row_index][i-1], self.image[row_index][i])
self.edges[row_index][i] = max(self.edges[row_index][i], hor_grad) |
/* Helper for the key generation/edit functions. */
static void show_card_key_info(struct agent_card_info_s *info) {
tty_fprintf(NULL, "Signature key ....:");
print_sha1_fpr(NULL,
(const unsigned char *)(info->fpr1valid ? info->fpr1 : NULL));
tty_fprintf(NULL, "Encryption key....:");
print_sha1_fpr(NULL,
(const unsigned char *)(info->fpr2valid ? info->fpr2 : NULL));
tty_fprintf(NULL, "Authentication key:");
print_sha1_fpr(NULL,
(const unsigned char *)(info->fpr3valid ? info->fpr3 : NULL));
tty_printf("\n");
} |
<reponame>kshedden/muscato
// Copyright 2017, <NAME> and the Muscato contributors.
// test is a script that runs a series of unit tests on the Muscato
// code base.
//
// To run the tests, use:
//
// go run test.go
package main
import (
"bufio"
"fmt"
"io"
"io/ioutil"
"log"
"os"
"os/exec"
"path"
"strings"
"github.com/BurntSushi/toml"
"github.com/golang/snappy"
)
var (
logger *log.Logger
)
type Test struct {
Name string
Base string
Command string
Opts []string
Args []string
Files [][2]string
}
func getTests() []Test {
fid, err := os.Open("tests.toml")
if err != nil {
panic(err)
}
s, err := ioutil.ReadAll(fid)
if err != nil {
panic(err)
}
fid.Close()
type vd struct {
Test []Test
}
var v vd
_, err = toml.Decode(string(s), &v)
if err != nil {
panic(err)
}
logger.Printf("Found %d tests\n", len(v.Test))
return v.Test
}
// getScanner returns a scanner for reading the contents of a file.
// Snappy compression is handled automatically. An array of values
// that should be closed when the scanner is no longer needed is also
// returned.
func getScanner(f string) (*bufio.Scanner, []io.Closer) {
var toclose []io.Closer
var g io.Reader
h, err := os.Open(f)
if err != nil {
panic(err)
}
toclose = append(toclose, h)
g = h
if strings.HasSuffix(f, ".sz") {
g = snappy.NewReader(g)
}
s := bufio.NewScanner(g)
return s, toclose
}
// compare returns true if and only if the contents of the files named
// by the arguments f1 and f2 are identical. Snappy compression is
// handled automatically.
func compare(f1, f2 string) bool {
s1, tc1 := getScanner(f1)
s2, tc2 := getScanner(f2)
for {
q1 := s1.Scan()
q2 := s2.Scan()
if q1 != q2 {
msg := fmt.Sprintf("files %s and %s have different numbers of lines\n", f1, f2)
panic(msg)
} else if !q1 {
// Completed with no errors
break
}
v1 := s1.Text()
v2 := s2.Text()
if v1 != v2 {
msg := fmt.Sprintf("%s\nin file %s\ndiffers from\n%v\nin file %s\n", v1, f1, v2, f2)
panic(msg)
}
}
// Check for any scanning errors
if err := s1.Err(); err != nil {
panic(err)
}
if err := s2.Err(); err != nil {
panic(err)
}
for _, x := range tc1 {
x.Close()
}
for _, x := range tc2 {
x.Close()
}
return true
}
func run(tests []Test) {
for _, t := range tests {
c := []string{path.Join(t.Command)}
for _, o := range t.Opts {
c = append(c, o)
}
for _, f := range t.Args {
c = append(c, path.Join(t.Base, f))
}
logger.Printf("%s\n", t.Name)
logger.Printf("Running command %s\n", c[0])
logger.Printf("with arguments: %v\n", c[1:])
cmd := exec.Command(c[0], c[1:len(c)]...)
cmd.Stderr = os.Stderr
err := cmd.Run()
if err != nil {
panic(err)
}
for _, fp := range t.Files {
compare(path.Join(t.Base, fp[0]), path.Join(t.Base, fp[1]))
}
logger.Printf("done\n\n")
}
}
func setupLog() {
fid, err := os.Create("test.log")
if err != nil {
panic(err)
}
logger = log.New(fid, "", log.Ltime)
}
func clean(tests []Test) {
for _, t := range tests {
for _, fp := range t.Files {
fn := path.Join(t.Base, fp[0])
if err := os.Remove(fn); err != nil {
if !os.IsNotExist(err) {
panic(err)
}
}
}
}
}
func main() {
setupLog()
tests := getTests()
clean(tests)
run(tests)
}
|
<filename>actor/v7action/task.go
package v7action
import (
"strconv"
"sort"
"code.cloudfoundry.org/cli/actor/actionerror"
"code.cloudfoundry.org/cli/api/cloudcontroller/ccerror"
"code.cloudfoundry.org/cli/api/cloudcontroller/ccv3"
)
// Task represents a V3 actor Task.
type Task ccv3.Task
// RunTask runs the provided command in the application environment associated
// with the provided application GUID.
func (actor Actor) RunTask(appGUID string, task Task) (Task, Warnings, error) {
createdTask, warnings, err := actor.CloudControllerClient.CreateApplicationTask(appGUID, ccv3.Task(task))
if err != nil {
if e, ok := err.(ccerror.TaskWorkersUnavailableError); ok {
return Task{}, Warnings(warnings), actionerror.TaskWorkersUnavailableError{Message: e.Error()}
}
}
return Task(createdTask), Warnings(warnings), err
}
// GetApplicationTasks returns a list of tasks associated with the provided
// appplication GUID.
func (actor Actor) GetApplicationTasks(appGUID string, sortOrder SortOrder) ([]Task, Warnings, error) {
tasks, warnings, err := actor.CloudControllerClient.GetApplicationTasks(appGUID)
actorWarnings := Warnings(warnings)
if err != nil {
return nil, actorWarnings, err
}
allTasks := []Task{}
for _, task := range tasks {
allTasks = append(allTasks, Task(task))
}
if sortOrder == Descending {
sort.Slice(allTasks, func(i int, j int) bool { return allTasks[i].SequenceID > allTasks[j].SequenceID })
} else {
sort.Slice(allTasks, func(i int, j int) bool { return allTasks[i].SequenceID < allTasks[j].SequenceID })
}
return allTasks, actorWarnings, nil
}
func (actor Actor) GetTaskBySequenceIDAndApplication(sequenceID int, appGUID string) (Task, Warnings, error) {
tasks, warnings, err := actor.CloudControllerClient.GetApplicationTasks(
appGUID,
ccv3.Query{Key: ccv3.SequenceIDFilter, Values: []string{strconv.Itoa(sequenceID)}},
)
if err != nil {
return Task{}, Warnings(warnings), err
}
if len(tasks) == 0 {
return Task{}, Warnings(warnings), actionerror.TaskNotFoundError{SequenceID: sequenceID}
}
return Task(tasks[0]), Warnings(warnings), nil
}
func (actor Actor) TerminateTask(taskGUID string) (Task, Warnings, error) {
task, warnings, err := actor.CloudControllerClient.UpdateTaskCancel(taskGUID)
return Task(task), Warnings(warnings), err
}
|
A new study that tracked 15,000 students since their sophomore year in high school in 2002 until now has found that poor students who planned to get college degrees fell far below their own expectations—leaving an even greater gap in graduation rates than in enrollment between them and their wealthier counterparts.
The study placed students into four groups depending on the income and education level of their parents, with parents of students in the lowest "quartile" typically working unskilled jobs and parents of those in the highest quartile usually working as professionals or managers.
Susan Dynarski, a professor of education, public policy and economics at the University of Michigan, delivers the results:
In both groups, most of the teenagers had high hopes for college. Over all, more than 70 percent of sophomores planned to earn a bachelor’s degree. In the top quartile, 87 percent expected to get at least a bachelor’s, with 24 percent aiming for an advanced degree. In the bottom quartile, 58 percent of students expected to get at least a bachelor’s degree and 12 percent to go on to graduate school. Thirteen years later, we can see who achieved their goals. Among the participants from the most disadvantaged families, just 14 percent had earned a bachelor’s degree. That is, one out of four of the disadvantaged students who had hoped to get a bachelor’s had done so. Among those from the most advantaged families, 60 percent had earned a bachelor’s, about two-thirds of those who had planned to.
Dynarski points out that the gap isn't simply a product of ability either. Even poor students who tested in the top 25 percent of their peers on math graduated from college at far lower rates than their academic equals in the higher socioeconomic level. The completion gap between those two groups was 33 percent, which wasn't all that different than the 46 percent completion gap between the two groups overall.
The results show that poorer students who perform well in high school face even greater obstacles to achieving their goals in college. |
def fetch_group_members(self, group_id):
result = self._get(self._group_url(group_id, '/members'))
return deserialize.group_members(result) |
/* Copyright (C) 2005-2011 M. T. Homer Reid
*
* This file is part of SCUFF-EM.
*
* SCUFF-EM is free software; you can redistribute it and/or modify
* it under the terms of the GNU General Public License as published by
* the Free Software Foundation; either version 2 of the License, or
* (at your option) any later version.
*
* SCUFF-EM is distributed in the hope that it will be useful,
* but WITHOUT ANY WARRANTY; without even the implied warranty of
* MERCHANTABILITY or FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE. See the
* GNU General Public License for more details.
*
* You should have received a copy of the GNU General Public License
* along with this program; if not, write to the Free Software
* Foundation, Inc., 59 Temple Place, Suite 330, Boston, MA 02111-1307 USA
*/
/*
* libMatProp.cc -- implementation of libMatProp
*
* homer reid -- 12/2009
*/
#include <stdlib.h>
#include <string.h>
#include <ctype.h>
#include <libhrutil.h>
#include <libhmat.h>
#include <libMDInterp.h>
#include "libMatProp.h"
#include "cmatheval.h"
#define MAXCONSTANTS 25
#define MAXSTR 100
/***************************************************************/
/* initialization of the static FreqUnit class variable ********/
/***************************************************************/
double MatProp::FreqUnit=2.99792458e14; // c / (1 micron)
/***************************************************************/
/* MPDP is an internally maintained list of pointers to */
/* MatProp instances that have been created to date. */
/* */
/* 20131220 Note that we now make a *copy* of the MatProp */
/* instance to which MP points, and store internally */
/* a pointer to this copy, rather than storing MP */
/* itself. Thanks to Owen Miller for suggesting this */
/* improvement. */
/* */
/* 20140525 Now we also maintain a reference counter for each */
/* material in the MPDB, so that we know when it's */
/* safe to delete an entry from the table. */
/***************************************************************/
static MatProp **MPDB=0;
static int MPDBLength=0;
void AddMPToMatPropDataBase(MatProp *MP)
{
MPDB=(MatProp **)realloc(MPDB, (MPDBLength+1)*sizeof(MatProp *));
MPDB[MPDBLength] = new MatProp(MP);
MPDBLength++;
}
MatProp *FindMPInMatPropDataBase(const char *MaterialName)
{
int nmp;
for (nmp=0; nmp<MPDBLength; nmp++)
if (!StrCaseCmp(MPDB[nmp]->Name, MaterialName) )
return MPDB[nmp];
return 0;
}
/***************************************************************/
/* constructor entry points ************************************/
/***************************************************************/
MatProp::MatProp()
{ Type=MP_PEC;
Zeroed=0;
Name=strdupEC("PEC");
}
MatProp::MatProp(int pType)
{ Type=pType;
Zeroed=0;
Name=strdupEC("VACUUM");
}
MatProp::MatProp(const char *MaterialName)
{ InitMatProp(MaterialName, 0); }
MatProp::MatProp(const char *MaterialName, const char *MatPropFileName)
{ InitMatProp(MaterialName, MatPropFileName); }
// copy constructor
MatProp::MatProp(MatProp *MP)
{
Type = MP->Type;
Zeroed = 0;
Name = strdup(MP->Name);
Eps = MP->Eps;
Mu = MP->Mu;
/***************************************************************/
/* 20140525 new handling of copy constructor for interpolated */
/* materials */
/***************************************************************/
#if 0
InterpReal = InterpImag = 0;
if (MP->InterpReal || MP->InterpImag)
ErrExit("%s:%i: MatProp copy constructor not implemented for interpolated materials",__FILE__,__LINE__);
#endif
InterpReal = MP->InterpReal ? new Interp1D(MP->InterpReal) : 0;
InterpImag = MP->InterpImag ? new Interp1D(MP->InterpImag) : 0;
OwnsInterpolators = true;
EpsExpression=MuExpression = 0;
if (MP->EpsExpression)
{
EpsExpression=cevaluator_create(cevaluator_get_string(MP->EpsExpression));
cevaluator_set_var_index(EpsExpression, "w", 0); // w is thread-safe
char **Vars;
int NumVars;
cevaluator_get_variables(MP->EpsExpression, &Vars, &NumVars);
for(int nv=0; nv<NumVars; nv++)
cevaluator_set_var(EpsExpression, Vars[nv],
cevaluator_get_var(MP->EpsExpression, Vars[nv])
);
};
if (MP->MuExpression)
{ MuExpression=cevaluator_create(cevaluator_get_string(MP->MuExpression));
cevaluator_set_var_index(MuExpression, "w", 0); // w is thread-safe
char **Vars;
int NumVars;
cevaluator_get_variables(MP->MuExpression, &Vars, &NumVars);
for(int nv=0; nv<NumVars; nv++)
cevaluator_set_var(MuExpression, Vars[nv],
cevaluator_get_var(MP->MuExpression, Vars[nv])
);
};
OwnsExpressions= true;
}
/***************************************************************/
/* the actual body of the constructor **************************/
/***************************************************************/
void MatProp::InitMatProp(const char *MaterialName, const char *MatPropFileName)
{
const char *p;
/***************************************************************/
/* set some defaults *******************************************/
/***************************************************************/
Eps=1.0;
Mu=1.0;
Zeroed=0;
EpsExpression = MuExpression = NULL;
InterpReal = InterpImag = NULL;
OwnsExpressions = OwnsInterpolators = false;
/* assume things will go OK */
ErrMsg=0;
/* set *p = first non-whitespace character in MaterialName */
p=MaterialName;
while ( p && *p && isspace(*p) )
p++;
/***************************************************************/
/* now switch off based on the type of material specified. */
/***************************************************************/
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
/*- PEC keyword ------------------------------------------------*/
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
if ( p==0 || *p==0 || !StrCaseCmp(p,"PEC") )
{ Type=MP_PEC;
Name=strdupEC("PEC");
return;
};
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
/*- VACUUM keyword ---------------------------------------------*/
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
if ( !StrCaseCmp(p,"VACUUM") )
{ Type=MP_VACUUM;
Name=strdupEC(p);
return;
};
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
/*- CONST_EPS_xxx -*/
/*- CONST_MU_xxx -*/
/*- CONST_EPS_xxx_MU_xxx -*/
/*- CONST_EPS_xxx_MU_XXX_SIGMA_xxx -*/
/*- ... etc -*/
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
if ( !strncasecmp(p,"CONST_",6) )
{
char ConstString[100];
char *Tokens[6];
int nt, NumTokens, nConv;
double ER, EI;
char c1, c2;
double Sigma=0.0;
Name=strdupEC(p);
strncpy(ConstString, p+6, 100);
NumTokens=Tokenize(ConstString, Tokens, 6, "_");
for(nt=0; nt<NumTokens; nt++)
{
if ( !StrCaseCmp(Tokens[nt],"MU") )
{ if ( ++nt == NumTokens )
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("no value specified for MU");
return;
};
nConv=sscanf(Tokens[nt],"%le%c%le%c",&ER,&c1,&EI,&c2);
if ( nConv == 1 )
Mu = cdouble(ER,0.0);
else if ( nConv==4 && c1=='+' && tolower(c2)=='i' )
Mu = cdouble(ER,EI);
else if ( nConv==4 && c1=='-' && tolower(c2)=='i' )
Mu = cdouble(ER, -1.0*EI);
else
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("bad constant value specified for MU");
return;
};
}
else if ( !StrCaseCmp(Tokens[nt],"EPS") )
{ if ( ++nt == NumTokens )
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("no value specified for EPS");
return;
};
nConv=sscanf(Tokens[nt],"%le%c%le%c",&ER,&c1,&EI,&c2);
if ( nConv == 1 )
Eps = cdouble(ER,0.0);
else if ( nConv==4 && c1=='+' && tolower(c2)=='i' )
Eps = cdouble(ER,EI);
else if ( nConv==4 && c1=='-' && tolower(c2)=='i' )
Eps = cdouble(ER, -1.0*EI);
else
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("bad constant value specified for EPS");
return;
};
}
else if ( !StrCaseCmp(Tokens[nt],"SIGMA") )
{ if ( ++nt == NumTokens )
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("no value specified for SIGMA");
return;
};
nConv=sscanf(Tokens[nt],"%le",&Sigma);
if ( nConv != 1 )
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("bad constant value specified for Sigma");
return;
};
}
else
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("invalid token");
return;
};
};
if (Sigma==0.0)
Type=MP_CONSTANT;
else
{ Type=MP_PARSED;
char Expr[100];
snprintf(Expr,100,"%e + %e*i*2.99792458e14/w",real(Eps),Sigma);
EpsExpression = cevaluator_create(Expr);
if (!EpsExpression)
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("invalid SIGMA value");
return;
}
cevaluator_set_var_index(EpsExpression, "w", 0);
if (Mu!=1.0)
{ snprintf(Expr,100,"%e+%ei",real(Mu),imag(Mu));
MuExpression = cevaluator_create(Expr);
if (!MuExpression)
{ ErrMsg=strdupEC("invalid MU value");
return;
};
cevaluator_set_var_index(MuExpression, "w", 0);
};
OwnsExpressions=true;
};
return;
}; // if ( !strncasecmp(p,"CONST_",6) )
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
/*- FILE_xxx keyword -------------------------------------------*/
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
if ( !strncasecmp(p,"FILE_",5) )
{
Type=MP_INTERP;
Name=strdupEC(p);
/***************************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
MatProp *MP;
if ( (MP=FindMPInMatPropDataBase(p)) )
{ InterpReal=MP->InterpReal;
InterpImag=MP->InterpImag;
OwnsInterpolators=false;
}
else
{
ReadInterpolationTable(p+5);
OwnsInterpolators=true;
AddMPToMatPropDataBase(this);
};
return;
};
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
/*- if none of the above, try to look up the given material */
/*- in a matprop.dat file. we look in several places: */
/*- a) the MatPropFileName specified by the caller of this */
/*- routine, if any */
/*- b) the file specified by the SCUFF_MATPROPFILE environment */
/*- variable */
/*- c) matprop.dat in the current working directory */
/*- d) matprop.dat in the directory specified by the */
/*- SCUFF_MATPROP_PATH environment variable */
/*- e) .matprop.dat in the user's home directory */
/*--------------------------------------------------------------*/
Type=MP_PARSED;
Name=strdupEC(p);
MatProp *MP=FindMPInMatPropDataBase(p);
if ( MP )
{
EpsExpression = MP->EpsExpression;
MuExpression = MP->MuExpression;
OwnsExpressions = false;
}
else
{
CreateUserDefinedMaterial(MatPropFileName, p);
OwnsExpressions = true;
AddMPToMatPropDataBase(this);
};
}
/***************************************************************/
/* attempt to read (epsilon,mu) vs frequency data from a file */
/* */
/* each line in the file (except blank lines and lines that */
/* start with '#', which are skipped) must contain either two */
/* or three complex numbers a+bi, which are interpreted as */
/* follows: */
/* */
/* FREQ EPS(w) MU(w) */
/* */
/* where the MU column is optional (defaults to 1 if absent). */
/* Each frequency value must be either purely real or purely */
/* imaginary (but the same table can contain both). */
/***************************************************************/
void MatProp::ReadInterpolationTable(const char *FileName)
{
/***************************************************************/
/* attempt to read in the data file as a big matrix */
/***************************************************************/
char *Dir=0;
FILE *f=fopenPath(getenv("SCUFF_MATPROP_PATH"), FileName, "r", &Dir);
if (!f)
ErrExit("could not open file %s",FileName);
fclose(f);
char FullFileName[MAXSTR];
snprintf(FullFileName,MAXSTR,"%s/%s",Dir,FileName);
Log("Found material data file %s in directory %s.",FileName,Dir);
HMatrix *Data = new HMatrix(FullFileName, LHM_TEXT, "--strict");
if (Data->ErrMsg)
ErrExit(Data->ErrMsg);
if (Data->NC != 2 && Data->NC != 3)
ErrExit("interpolation data must have either two or three columns");
Data->Sort(0); // Interp1D expects data to be sorted
/***************************************************************/
/* extract from the matrix the XPoints and YPoints arrays */
/* passed to the Interp1D constructor */
/***************************************************************/
int nr, NR=Data->NR;
double *XPoints=(double *)mallocEC(NR*sizeof(double));
double *YPoints=(double *)mallocEC(4*NR*sizeof(double));
if (XPoints==0 || YPoints==0)
ErrExit("insufficient memory to read interpolation data file %s",FileName);
/* count number of purely real frequencies */
int nreal = 0;
for(nr=0; nr<NR; nr++)
nreal += imag(Data->GetEntry(nr, 0)) == 0.0;
/* Put the real frequencies at the beginning of the arrays
and the imaginary frequencies at the end. */
int ir = 0, ii = 0; // count of real and imaginary freqs so far
for(nr=0; nr<NR; nr++) {
cdouble w = Data->GetEntry(nr, 0);
int r=0;
if (imag(w) == 0.0)
XPoints[r = ir++] = real(w);
else if (real(w) == 0.0)
XPoints[r = nreal + ii++] = imag(w);
else
ErrExit("frequencies in %s must be purely real or imaginary\n",FileName);
YPoints[4*r + 0] = real(Data->GetEntry(nr, 1));
YPoints[4*r + 1] = imag(Data->GetEntry(nr, 1));
if (Data->NC == 3) {
YPoints[4*r + 2] = real(Data->GetEntry(nr, 2));
YPoints[4*r + 3] = imag(Data->GetEntry(nr, 2));
}
else { // default Mu = 1
YPoints[4*r + 2] = 1.0;
YPoints[4*r + 3] = 0.0;
}
}
/***************************************************************/
/* create the interpolators ************************************/
/***************************************************************/
InterpReal = (nreal == 0) ? NULL : new Interp1D(XPoints, YPoints, nreal, 4);
// (strictly speaking, we should be able to omit the imaginary parts
// along the imaginary-frequency axis since they should always be zero)
InterpImag = (nreal == NR) ? NULL : new Interp1D(XPoints + nreal, YPoints + 4*nreal, NR-nreal, 4);
/***************************************************************/
/* deallocate temporary storage ********************************/
/***************************************************************/
free(XPoints);
free(YPoints);
delete Data;
}
/***************************************************************/
/* destructor **************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
MatProp::~MatProp()
{
free(Name);
if (Type==MP_INTERP && OwnsInterpolators)
{ if (InterpReal) delete InterpReal;
if (InterpImag) delete InterpImag;
}
else if (Type==MP_PARSED && OwnsExpressions)
{
if (EpsExpression) cevaluator_destroy(EpsExpression);
if (MuExpression) cevaluator_destroy(MuExpression);
};
}
/***************************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
void MatProp::SetFreqUnit(double NewFreqUnit)
{ FreqUnit = NewFreqUnit; }
void MatProp::SetLengthUnit(double NewLengthUnit)
{ FreqUnit = 299792458.0 / NewLengthUnit; }
/***************************************************************/
/* return 1 if the material is a perfect electrical conductor */
/***************************************************************/
int MatProp::IsPEC()
{
if (Type==MP_PEC)
return 1;
return 0;
}
/***************************************************************/
/* set constant eps and mu */
/***************************************************************/
void MatProp::SetEpsMu(cdouble NewEps, cdouble NewMu)
{
Type=MP_CONSTANT;
Eps=NewEps;
Mu=NewMu;
}
/***************************************************************/
/* get eps and mu at a given frequency *************************/
/***************************************************************/
void MatProp::GetEpsMu(cdouble Omega, cdouble *pEps, cdouble *pMu)
{
cdouble EpsRV; // 'epsilon return value'
cdouble MuRV; // 'mu return value'
if ( Zeroed )
{ EpsRV=0.0;
MuRV=0.0;
}
else if ( Type==MP_VACUUM )
{
EpsRV=1.0;
MuRV=1.0;
}
else if ( Type==MP_PEC ) // this should never happen in practice
{
EpsRV = -1.0e9;
MuRV=1.0;
}
else if ( Type==MP_CONSTANT )
{ EpsRV=Eps;
MuRV=Mu;
}
else if ( Type==MP_INTERP )
{
double Data[4];
if(imag(Omega)==0.0)
{
if (InterpReal==0)
ErrExit("no real-frequency data given in material data file %s",Name+5);
InterpReal->Evaluate(real(Omega)*FreqUnit, Data);
EpsRV=cdouble(Data[0], Data[1]);
MuRV=cdouble(Data[2], Data[3]);
}
else if (real(Omega)==0.0)
{
if (InterpImag==0)
ErrExit("no imaginary-frequency data given in material data file %s",Name+5);
InterpImag->Evaluate(imag(Omega)*FreqUnit, Data);
EpsRV=cdouble(Data[0], 0.0);
MuRV=cdouble(Data[2], 0.0);
}
else
ErrExit("interpolated frequencies must lie on the real or imaginary axis");
}
else if ( Type==MP_PARSED )
{
GetEpsMu_Parsed(Omega, &EpsRV, &MuRV);
}; // if (Type==... )
if (pEps) *pEps=EpsRV;
if (pMu) *pMu=MuRV;
}
/***************************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
/***************************************************************/
cdouble MatProp::GetEps(cdouble Omega) {
cdouble EpsRV;
GetEpsMu(Omega, &EpsRV, 0);
return EpsRV;
}
cdouble MatProp::GetMu(cdouble Omega) {
cdouble MuRV;
GetEpsMu(Omega, 0, &MuRV);
return MuRV;
}
cdouble MatProp::GetRefractiveIndex(cdouble Omega, cdouble *pZRel)
{
cdouble MyEps, MyMu;
GetEpsMu(Omega, &MyEps, &MyMu);
if (pZRel)
*pZRel = (MyEps==0.0) ? 0.0 : sqrt(MyMu/MyEps);
return sqrt(MyEps*MyMu);
}
|
package com.zw.protocol.msg.t809.body.module;
import lombok.Data;
import org.apache.commons.lang3.StringUtils;
/**
* @Description:
* @Author:nixiangqian
* @Date:Create in 2018/10/17 14:39
*/
@Data
public class EnterpriseInfo {
/**
* 企业名称
*/
private String name;
/**
* 运输行业
*/
private String transType;
/**
* 道路运输经营许可证字别
*/
private String word;
/**
* 道路运输经营许可证号
*/
private String number;
/**
* 城市 行政区划代码，按照GB/T2260的规定
*/
private String city;
/**
* 发证机关
*/
private String issueOrg;
/**
* 经营状态
*/
private String status;
/**
* 经营范围
*/
private String scope;
/**
* 企业法人
*/
private String person;
/**
* 联系电话
*/
private String tel;
@Override
public String toString() {
return "NAME:=" + valueToString(name)
+ ";TRANS_TYPE:=" + valueToString(transType)
+ ";WORD:=" + valueToString(word)
+ ";NUMBER:=" + valueToString(number)
+ ";CITY:=" + valueToString(city)
+ ";ISSUE_ORG:=" + valueToString(issueOrg)
+ ";STATUS:=" + valueToString(status)
+ ";SCOPE:=" + valueToString(scope)
+ ";PERSON:=" + valueToString(person)
+ ";TEL:=" + valueToString(tel);
}
private String valueToString(String value) {
return StringUtils.isBlank(value) ? "" : value;
}
}
|
(Photo: I-5 Design & Manufacture)Operating a workplace as a democracy in the contemporary business world isn’t easy, Morgan says, but worker cooperatives are showing the way while thriving and multiplying.
Creating a new economy within the confines of predatory capitalism is an immense undertaking. The various oppressions that exist in society at large can insidiously take root in any new project if we don’t work to undo their influence. Cooperatives, the democratic businesses leading the way in the struggle for a new economy, are no exception, and can be a difficult undertaking, given the lack of democracy in our daily lives. Contrary to our national mythology, we practice democracy very infrequently. Almost every organization, institution, or site of human interaction is governed by hierarchical principles, founded on individualism, and driven by competition. Even many social justice organizations can mimic corporate structures and assume these traits.
By contrast, cooperative businesses are an experiment in everyday democracy, and worker-ownership is something that is unfamiliar and challenging, requiring deliberation, commitment, and patience. If being democratic were as easy as sitting around a table and agreeing to make democratic decisions, our lives would be much simpler. Of course, the reality is quite different; we can get lost in egotism and conflict, fall into a cult of personality, or confuse democracy as an event, not a process. There are also fundamental business concerns like accessing startup capital and simply paying the bills.
Trying to find money to start a business is difficult for most, whatever kind of business one is hoping to start. Co-ops face an even steeper climb given the lack of understanding about how they differ from other businesses. Many banks are tentative about loaning to worker co-ops, which tend to be less singularly focused on profit and are often balancing a whole host of goals defined by their membership. A traditional business may sell shares of the company to raise funds, but most worker co-ops are wary about selling stock to those who aren’t workers. Some worker co-ops do sell shares to raise money, but eliminate the shareholders’ voting power. Since most investors want a say in the direction of the company, co-ops have to prove they are making a difference and a profit in order to attract outside money.
If start-up money is acquired, then co-ops must chart their way of working in their bylaws, either creating their structure anew or adopting a model from a like-minded group. This foundational step looks dramatically different from incorporating a hierarchical business. Each person comes to the table with different material needs, and it is the group’s job to meet those so that the members can fully participate in the democratic process. Together, they decide not only the business’ priorities and operating procedures, but also how decisions are made. Many worker cooperatives operate by consensus – meaning that until all members agree, a proposal is subject to revision or can be blocked outright – and operate on a one-member-one-vote policy, but this format has to be decided upon by the members at the outset. Enterprises that require many operating decisions to be made in a high pressure timeframe must be clear about how these are to be delegated and disagreements expeditiously resolved. What’s more, co-ops grow and change, bring on new members, and with time, set new priorities. Consequently, their way of operating is dynamic, and needs to be adaptable to new circumstances.
It can be an arduous process to meet a variety of needs, both at the beginning while drafting bylaws, and on a daily basis. This careful balancing act hinges on how the co-op is governed. Each day, responsibilities are executed through the democratic decision-making process, which relies on trust and a sincere commitment to soliciting the input of others. It requires time to reach a decision democratically, and worker co-operatives grapple with prioritizing the process over the decision itself. When a high-stakes decision needs to be made, this can mean setting aside other tasks to focus the group’s attention on a single issue. Contentious subjects can take a long time to address and personal feelings can become entangled with group objectives. This is, of course, not unique to the co-op model, and these group dynamics will be familiar to most workplaces. What sets co-ops apart is their dedication to ironing out tensions, and prioritizing fairness at all stages of the decision-making process.
As such, worker cooperatives deal with conflict differently than other businesses. It can be even harder to overcome conflict in a co-op than in a traditional workplace; it is easier to complain to someone’s boss or union representative than to bring forth an issue directly to that person in a group setting. It can be especially difficult when dealing with larger oppressions, such as sexism and other marginalizing practices. These are often swept under the rug in a hierarchical workplace, but worker democracy gives workers space to deliberate on how these issues affect them and their work. While this process can be a strength for worker-coops, it requires a strong and supportive structure, so that the onus isn’t solely on the individual to be outspoken and address the issues. It’s also important that true whistleblowers feel they are respected and that their jobs aren’t endangered by speaking out.
It is frequently argued that making timely decisions and dealing with conflict are magnified as the size of the co-op increases. Some claim that worker democracy can only be effective on a quite small scale, and many co-ops struggle with growing pains. Founding members can hold tightly to the co-op’s initial priorities and processes, expecting new members to conform, rather than allow the co-op to change with time. In the nonprofit world, this is an oft-addressed problem known as founders’ syndrome. As co-ops grow, however, they need to remain subject to worker control, and develop systems for accountability and transparency. Two of the largest cooperative systems in the world, Mondragon and Emilia Romagna, have succeeded in adapting in these ways, and have grown to include millions of members, who each have a say in how the system operates.
The cooperative movement is still learning how to best address these issues. The co-op movement has developed structures for teaching about what democracy looks like in the workplace. Despite operating within a context that is by its nature competitive, self-serving, and undemocratic – namely, the contemporary business world – worker cooperatives are not merely surviving but are thriving and multiplying, forming a bedrock of community control and localizing the economy. For the cooperative movement to succeed on a larger scale, the focus needs to remain on creating structures and systems of fairness and equality over those of expedience and profit. |
#include <bits/stdc++.h>
using namespace std;
#define MAX 3001
#define ll int
const ll INF = 999999999LL;
ll n;
bool ok;
ll s[MAX],c[MAX];
ll memo[MAX][MAX][4];
ll dp(int i,int j,int k){
if(i>n){
if(k<3){
return INF;
}
else {
ok=true;
return 0;
}
}
if(memo[i][j][k]!=-1)return memo[i][j][k];
memo[i][j][k]=dp(i+1,j,k);
if(k<3){
if(s[i]>s[j]){
return memo[i][j][k]=min(memo[i][j][k],dp(i+1,i,k+1)+c[i]);
}
}
return memo[i][j][k];
}
int main (){
ios_base::sync_with_stdio(0);
cin.tie(0);
memset(memo,-1,sizeof(memo));
cin>>n;
for(int i=1;i<=n;i++){
cin>>s[i];
}
for(int i=1;i<=n;i++){
cin>>c[i];
}
ll res=dp(1,0,0);
if(!ok)res=-1;
cout << res<<"\n";
} |
<filename>src/third_party/wiredtiger/src/os_win/os_map.c
/*-
* Copyright (c) 2014-present MongoDB, Inc.
* Copyright (c) 2008-2014 WiredTiger, Inc.
* All rights reserved.
*
* See the file LICENSE for redistribution information.
*/
#include "wt_internal.h"
/*
* __wt_win_map --
* Map a file into memory.
*/
int
__wt_win_map(WT_FILE_HANDLE *file_handle, WT_SESSION *wt_session, void *mapped_regionp,
size_t *lenp, void *mapped_cookiep)
{
WT_DECL_RET;
WT_FILE_HANDLE_WIN *win_fh;
WT_SESSION_IMPL *session;
wt_off_t file_size;
DWORD windows_error;
size_t len;
void *map, *mapped_cookie;
win_fh = (WT_FILE_HANDLE_WIN *)file_handle;
session = (WT_SESSION_IMPL *)wt_session;
/*
* There's no locking here to prevent the underlying file from changing underneath us, our
* caller needs to ensure consistency of the mapped region vs. any other file activity.
*/
WT_RET(__wt_win_fs_size(file_handle->file_system, wt_session, file_handle->name, &file_size));
len = (size_t)file_size;
__wt_verbose(session, WT_VERB_HANDLEOPS, "%s: memory-map: %" WT_SIZET_FMT " bytes",
file_handle->name, len);
mapped_cookie = CreateFileMappingW(win_fh->filehandle, NULL, PAGE_READONLY, 0, 0, NULL);
if (mapped_cookie == NULL) {
windows_error = __wt_getlasterror();
ret = __wt_map_windows_error(windows_error);
__wt_err(session, ret, "%s: memory-map: CreateFileMappingW: %s", file_handle->name,
__wt_formatmessage(session, windows_error));
return (ret);
}
if ((map = MapViewOfFile(mapped_cookie, FILE_MAP_READ, 0, 0, len)) == NULL) {
/* Retrieve the error before cleaning up. */
windows_error = __wt_getlasterror();
ret = __wt_map_windows_error(windows_error);
(void)CloseHandle(mapped_cookie);
__wt_err(session, ret, "%s: memory-map: MapViewOfFile: %s", file_handle->name,
__wt_formatmessage(session, windows_error));
return (ret);
}
*(void **)mapped_cookiep = mapped_cookie;
*(void **)mapped_regionp = map;
*lenp = len;
return (0);
}
/*
* __wt_win_unmap --
* Remove a memory mapping.
*/
int
__wt_win_unmap(WT_FILE_HANDLE *file_handle, WT_SESSION *wt_session, void *mapped_region,
size_t length, void *mapped_cookie)
{
WT_DECL_RET;
WT_FILE_HANDLE_WIN *win_fh;
WT_SESSION_IMPL *session;
DWORD windows_error;
win_fh = (WT_FILE_HANDLE_WIN *)file_handle;
session = (WT_SESSION_IMPL *)wt_session;
__wt_verbose(session, WT_VERB_HANDLEOPS, "%s: memory-unmap: %" WT_SIZET_FMT " bytes",
file_handle->name, length);
if (UnmapViewOfFile(mapped_region) == 0) {
windows_error = __wt_getlasterror();
ret = __wt_map_windows_error(windows_error);
__wt_err(session, ret, "%s: memory-unmap: UnmapViewOfFile: %s", file_handle->name,
__wt_formatmessage(session, windows_error));
}
if (CloseHandle(*(void **)mapped_cookie) == 0) {
windows_error = __wt_getlasterror();
ret = __wt_map_windows_error(windows_error);
__wt_err(session, ret, "%s: memory-unmap: CloseHandle: %s", file_handle->name,
__wt_formatmessage(session, windows_error));
}
return (ret);
}
|
Mobile defects born from an energy cascade shape the locomotive behavior of a headless animal
The physics of behavior seeks simple descriptions of animal behavior. The field has advanced rapidly by using techniques in low dimensional dynamics distilled from computer vision. Yet, we still do not generally understand the rules which shape these emergent behavioral manifolds in the face of complicated neuro-construction -- even in the simplest of animals. In this work, we introduce a non-neuromuscular model system which is complex enough to teach us something new but also simple enough for us to understand. In this simple animal, the manifolds underlying the governing dynamics are shaped and stabilized by a physical mechanism: an active-elastic, inverse-energy cascade. Building upon pioneering work in the field, we explore the formulation of the governing dynamics of a polarized active elastic sheet in terms of the normal modes of an elastic structure decorated by a polarized activity at every node. By incorporating a torque mediated coupling physics, we show that power is pumped from the shortest length scale up to longer length scale modes via a combination of direct mode coupling and preferential dissipation. We use this result to motivate the study of organismal locomotion as an emergent simplicity governing organism-scale behavior. To master the low dimensional dynamics on this manifold, we present a zero-transients limit study of the dynamics of +1 or vortex-like defects in the ciliary field. We show, experimentally, numerically and analytically that these defects arise from this energy cascade to generate long-lived, stable modes of locomotive behavior. Using a geometric model, we can link defects to organism locomotion. We extend this framework to study larger organisms with non-circular shape and introduce local activity modulation for defect steering. We expect this work to inform the foundations of organismal control of distributed actuation without muscles or neurons.
Note to readers
This work is the second of three complementary stories we have posted together describing multiple scales of ciliary flocking. While we encourage readers to read all three for a more complete picture, each of these works are written to be as self-contained as possible. In the rare case where we evoke a result from another manuscript, we make effort to motivate it as a falsifiable assumption on the grounds of existing literature and direct readers to the relevant manuscript for a more in-depth understanding.
Part 1
Excitable mechanics embodied in a walking cilium (posted on arXiv concurrently) describes the emergent mechanics of ciliary walking as a transition between ciliary swimming and ciliary stalling with increasing adhesion.
Part 2
Non-neuromuscular collective agility by harnessing instability in ciliary flocking (posted on arXiv concurrently) reports the implications of an effective rotational degree-offreedom governing the direction of ciliary walking for agile locomotive behavior in an animal without a brain.
Part 3
Mobile defects born from an energy cascade shape the locomotive behavior of a headless animal (this work) describes the emergent locomotive behavior of the animal in terms of a low dimensional manifold which is identified by both top-down and bottom-up approaches to find agreement. § 1 Introduction Parsing the complexity of animal behavior promises to teach us important lessons about how the living form copes with a sometimes unpredictable environment. With the development of a sundry of modern techniques , the challenge of unbiased behavioral quantification has begun to suggest a deeper underlying structure which may be exploited to further our understanding of the physics of behavior . Perhaps the most tantalizing outcome of this collective enterprise, is the growing support for paradigm of emergent simplicity . Oftentimes, from a complicated construction of a developmentally encoded yet highly individualized ensemble of many sensors, neurons, and muscles, the dynamics of the animal can be captured in an effectively much lower dimensional space of behaviors . There is growing support for the conjecture that the shape of these emergent spaces is enforced by evolutionary outcomes which lead to the robust self-organization of these attracting manifolds . These effective dynamics may comprise a new space in which to consider the role of the environment and the manifestation of a particular state on the output behavior. Here, we adopt a simple animal of study to develop a complementary perspective which is sufficiently distinct from the view given by the exciting and informative work in worms , flies and fish . Similar approaches have been applied to collections of organisms including birds , fish and collections of cells focusing largely on the modes of the collective behavior ranging from flocking, milling and swarming.
This research program focused on distilling critical lessons from simple animals has value beyond the domain of these simple nervous systems. This enterprise builds useful conceptual tools and technology to transform hard drives of data into effective degrees of freedom with hints toward more general principles. One such connection might arise in the bridge between dynamics in neural sub-spaces and their behavioral manifestations. The discovery of such motifs may inspire new ways toward understanding data in higher brains. With each new publication finding low dynamics, a new question emerges: is the emergence of tractable simplicity from complicated construction a theme to be exploited? Yet, distributed actuation and decision making -the hallmark of multicellular life -is seemingly at odds with these low dimensional outcomes. This disconnect between cellular degrees of freedom and organismal behavior comes to a point in the tension between emergent low-dimensional models and models built from the ground up where the details seem to matter . By studying an organism without a neuromuscular system, we build our intuition slowly toward more general principles mapping the collective behavior of complicated construction onto an organism-scale emergent simplicity. In doing so, we complement existing and ongoing work on more traditional model organisms § 1 Introduction and hope to lend support to a tantalizing link between emergent animal behavior , a growing field in cellular cognition and the physics of active matter .
In this work, we study the spatio-temporal dynamics of a simple animal without muscles or neurons, Trichoplax Adhaerens, from top-down and bottom-up. Meeting in the middle, we show how the emergent behavioral manifolds of this simple animal are stabilized by the inverse energy cascade pumping energy into increasingly collective modes. By looking past the shape of the manifold to the underlying physical constraints shaping it, we demonstrate a simple system where the emergent locomotive behavior can be cast in the form of quasi-particle-like, defect dynamics in the zero-transients limit. We show that for a wide range of organism size this formulation holds and it gives us a perspective on how low dimensional dynamics can arise from a collection of individual cells and how local cellular control can influence organism scale locomotive dynamics.
Review on defect dynamics and inverse energy cascade
The active matter community has long recognized the value of studying the properties of emergent quasi-particles in the form of defects . Defects are a convenient tool for parameterizing continuous fields and this pedigree is undoubtedly shaped by the fields' close connections to hydrodynamics and more generally, condensed matter physics in which theories like the BKT phase transition mediated by vortex gases carry fundamental importance . This deep relationship with patterns of interacting defects has also linked it to the ideas of turbulence in which the momentum terms are conceptually replaced with activity at low Reynolds number giving rise to spatio-temporally rich flows reminiscent of the momentum rich solutions of Navier-Stokes .
Defects are not purely mathematical tools and have important biophysical implications such as controlling cell death and extrusion from a tissue monolayer , localizing proliferation , and guiding collective density . Thus the control of defects represents an attempt at harnessing the power of active matter to do work at the collective scale . As we develop these technologies further, we can benefit from insights into new ways to shape and control these defects in a polarized active matter. For this, we can learn much from T. Adhaerens.
T. adhaerens is an emerging model in tissue mechanics both for its highly visible and dynamics actomyosin contractions and its relative simplicity in components . The abundance of cilia also makes the organism a compelling system for understanding the coordination of ciliary dynamics in non-neuromuscular locomotion The spatio-temporal dynamics of the tissue displacement field is a prime opportunity to not only identify any signatures of low dimensional representations, but also begin to understand what shapes those manifold sub spaces.
To capture the locomotive dynamics of this organism in this work, we leveraged two primary classes of experiments. In the first, we honed in on single organelle resolved imaging of the bottom of the organism to watch the spatial evolution of the ciliary dynamics. In other work, we report that these dynamics can be understood as sub-second ciliary reorientations of cilia which are walking on the substrate . These collective dynamics result in striking defects in the ciliary field which diffuse around at high speeds.
In the second set of experiments, we stain the tissue with a lipid loving florescent dye which absorbs preferentially into a sparsely sampled cell type comprising about 10% of the bottom tissue using techniques described by Prakash et al . These uniformly spaced fluorescent spots make an idea platform on which to analyze the flow field using particle image velocimetry . This gives us a direct measurement of the time evolution of the local tissue displacement field over the entire organism.
When we plot a local measure of the field polarization we find evidence for highly localized domains with high disorder reminiscent of point defects. These point defects are identifiable by a couple of key signatures. The first is that the defects sit at the center of a rotational coherent structure which is highly vortex like. This means that when we integrate the phase around a path in this field we enclose one quanta of topological charge. We use this definition to call the defect a +1 defect within the orientation field. Because in the limit of small organisms, this locomotion becomes approximately solid body (e.g. the activity scale is not strong enough to deform appreciably the weakest mode of the tissue ), the rotation deviates from the classic localized defects in fluid mechanics, where the shear exceeds the viscosity at a critical radius and sets a finite size vortical flow with a 1/r fall-off outside of this critical radius . Instead in our polarized active solid, the § 2 Experimental signatures of defect dynamics effective radius of the rotation speed grows with time until it achieves full system size.
Another key observation is that even when the defects move at high speeds, they remain quite localized only picking up small strands of disorder in the direction orthogonal to the defect travel direction. This is an important characteristic informing the low dimensional dynamics of the organism, as we can imagine many alternative ways to distributing the local orientation such that the net polarization is zero. This supports the notion that we will make precise in the coming sections that the self-organizing dynamics push active forcing injecting on the shortest lengthscale up to collective modes with the longest possible lengthscale in the problem through a combination of preferential dissipation and energy passing between modes .
A final broad stroke observation we report is that these defects are effectively bound to the organism and in the absence of strong activity or environmental noise have a tendency to selfcenter if near enough to the center. This trapping of the defect by relative to the organisms' boundary suggests that (at least in sufficiently small animals) the defect is strongly influenced. Wide field yet single cilia resolved imaging of entire organisms (60x Bright Field optical sectioning at 100 fps) reveals collective ciliary flocking with defect structures. These defects are characterized by regions of high orientational disorder in the ciliary field. The disorder reduces as the distance from the center of the defect grows. (B) We visualize the entire organism's ciliary orientation field, φ, using a symmetry based ciliary segmentation (see methods, color scheme red-blue-green-red color scheme from -π/2 to π/2). (C) From the same movie, we simultaneously extract the motion of the cell bodies using a digital image correlation measurement on the low pass filtered image (see method). This displacement field is colored by their vector orientation using a colormap from -π to π from Red-blue-green-red-blue-green-red to match the color to angle of the ciliary orientation field above. (D) Ciliary orientation field of a walking animal show rich dynamics which revolve around the position of the defect position within the ciliary field (defect colored with a red dot to guide the eye). In this sequence, we observe the defect rapidly traveling from the bottom of the organism to the top in a timespan of 2.5 seconds. Following the removal of this defect, the organism's ciliary field converges to a symmetry broken state. This transitions an animal from a rotational state to translation state in behavior space. (E) Complementary techniques allowing us to track a sparse cell type in the bottom epithelium, permit the reconstruction of the sparsely labeled cellular displacement field θ. This cell displacement field can be colored using the same colormap spanning −π to π from Red-blue-green-red. (F) To observe defect dynamics impact on the cell displacment field, we translate the vector field into a local order map by calculating the local polarization: P i,local = j∈nearest neighbors cos(θ i − θ j )/N nearest neighbors . In the local-polarization field the defects show up as yellow points in a red background. This visualization shows that these defects are highly motile exhibiting generation, dissipation and merging. Intriguingly, many of these defects are self centering for sufficiently small organisms up until they reach a critical distance away from the center in which case they are rapidly expelled. Other sources of noise in the cell displacement field can result in defect pairs which quickly annihilate.
while the activity vector updates through two equations: The activity amplitude in this case behaves like a Orenstien-Uhlenbeck noise process driven by an activity noise centered around a preferred activity.
The bulk dynamics can be characterized by watching the evolution of the activity orientation field which is governed by fast timescale reorientation statistics and the amplitude field which is driven stochasticially. The third field which we visualize is a local force on the tissue field which emerges from the gradient of the elastic free energy of the tissue in response to the active forces.
We propose thinking of this local tissue force as a measure of the integrate disagreement between the activity vectors of nearby cells which highlights long-lived defects in the underlying activity field. These dynamics can be plotted as: i) long-lived and stable vortex, ii) a polarized locomotion regime, and iii) a disordered regime. A) By visualizing the orientation, activity amplitude (low noise limit) and the locally evaluated tissue force through the first 1000 steps (equally spaced) of simulation on 10 4 cells, we see how the force in the tissue is forced to compensate for the disagreement between the activity and the rigid body rotation of the tissue in a vortex state. B) Summarizing the mean polarization at long times across 1e3 simulations illustrates these three regimes. At low noise and low ratio of timescales, Γ, the vortex state is very stable for long times with self-centering behavior resulting in low polarization. At low noise and higher Γ, the vortex core is more susceptible to diffusion and can sometimes escape its bound state at the center of the tissue. As noise increases the mean lifetime of the vortex state decreases and the escape can happen at lower and lower values of Γ. Above a critical noise, mean polarization drops indicating a transition into a disordered regime of the phase space.
C) The vortical polarization of the tissue displacement, L = iâ i × r i , confirms this story with high vortical polarization at low Γ and low noise, which crosses over to low measured vortical polarization at high noise and high Γ. D) The phase space for the tissue force shows that for Γ > 1, the force in the tissue -a measure of integrated disagreement -grows in proportion with the activity noise, F ∝ ζ resulting spatio-temporal dynamics of the tissue. We present this work with the aim of presenting the highly non-trivial dynamics of an active elastic sheet so that we can better appreciate where to be surprised when observing the collective dynamics of the living T. Adhaerens. § 4 Describing the spatio-temporal dynamics Placozoa and inspired models of polarized active elastic sheets exhibit rich spatio-temporal cell displacement dynamics. These collective responses walk the boundary between being stable enough to maintain cohesion yet sensitive enough to illicit large system wide responses to local environmental stimulus. These collective dynamics leave much to study in their own right as the temporal progression between cell displacements is governed by a highly dynamic system in the limit of rapid reorientation of the activity vector seen in placozoa .
To begin to get a handle on this spatio-temporal complexity, we take an unsupervised decomposition approach inspired by Gilpin et al which permits us to study the dynamics of these polarized active elastic sheets. We begin by collecting long, microstate aware simulations of the polarized active sheet with fast reorientation times, Γ/γ ∼ 15. The in silico organism gives a record of the cell displacement vector and position every agent in the tissue, θ i (t), and r i (t). From these records, the net displacement of the organism is computed at every time instance defining the organism's heading direction and speed, θ (t). We use this direction to rotate the real space representation of the cell-positions and displacements such that the heading is held constant at 0 This approach mimics the head registration done by previous authors decomposing the behavioral repertoire of worms , and flies and can be thought of as the amplitude of the modes around the spontaneously symmetry broken state since this tissue does not have the same kind of developmentally broken symmetry between head and tail.
Next, we define a grid in the organisms heading frame of reference. This grid underlies a uniformly spaced displacement field which we use to define a displacement pattern at any single point in time.
We construct the values on this grid by taking the mean cell displacement vector of the set of cells, , which map to each grid point g i as its nearest out-of-set neighbor giving Θ i at every grid point at each timestep. The utility of this structure is that is allows us to simply encode and decode § 4 Describing the spatio-temporal dynamics the spatial component of our pattern into the identify of a fixed in place structure. By making a map between identity and location for encoding, we can account for the spatial structure more simply in the unsupervised operation. This allows us to treat the dynamics at the evolution of a sequence of numbers in time opening up to more simple types of analysis including Dynamic mode decomposition and variants of Principle Component analysis.
To turn the sequence of grid points vectors into numbers, we use the mapping between the dot product in two dimensions and the product of a complex number with its complex conjugate. This allows us to write each rotated displacement vector as: z i = Θ i ·x+iΘ i ·ŷ. We then write each timepoint in the observed sequence as a new column in the data matrix for a total of T observations.
If there are N grid points sampled over T observations the data matrix is of the form of an N × T matrix, D, with each element ∈ C. By subtracting off the mean (givingD), we can represent the covariance matrix as the normalized conjugate transpose product,D †D . Solving for the eigenvectors and eigenvalues of this matrix gives us the principle components and their directions. We can then apply the encoding operation in reverse to take the eigenvectors from complex numbers to vectors and then remap them into space through the identification of grid points. When this is completed on data generated from a long polarized active elastic sheet trajectory 10 7 timesteps for 10 3 cells initialized in a hexagonal lattice, we reconstruct the first 9 modes observed in figure 0.4.
Complementary to the mode shapes, we also gain access to how much each mode represents the observed dynamics through direct calculation of the eigenvalues. Plotting up the distribution of mode powers represented, we find that the first two modes (a translation mode and a rotation mode) dominate the dynamics strongly. After the first two modes, a log-log plot of the mode power versus rank reveals a two-regime powerlaw like relationship.
The first powerlaw decays slowly across the first 10's of modes and then more rapidly to the end.
The initial Zippian-like distribution is reminiscent of expressive complexity and suggests that even short-lived modes have important expressive power in the spatio-temporal dynamics a polarized active elastic sheet with activity noise.
Adopting the alternative perspective, it is encouraging that a large proportion of the observed dynamics can be captured effectively with relatively few dimensions. For the studied small organisms with 10 3 cells (in silico and live), the first two modes capture 60% of the variation. In the following work, we develop two simplified frameworks to understand the locomotive implications Notice that the first two modes, the translation and the rotation capture the bulk of the representation. Following these two dominant modes, we find a first Zipf-like powerlaw in the rapidly decaying eigenvalues. B) Using the unit-vectors, we can capture the amplitude of each of these modes in the time-course by leveraging the inner-product of each mode's eigenvector with the observed displacement. Upon random initialization of the active orientations, the modes are broadly active. However, as time progresses power is pumped from modes with low representation power toward the modes with the highest. This is directly reminiscent to the inverse energy cascades seen in randomly diffusing active vectors in tissues and active crystals . of these longest wavelength modes as a reduced order understanding of the implications of these collective modes on locomotive transport. This observation motivates the following work where we develop two simplified frameworks to understand the locomotive implications of these longest wavelength modes as a reduced order understanding of the implications of these collective modes on locomotive transport. These reduced order models have important implications for the locomotive dynamics of the organism, which we highlight through the study exploration in a zero-information environment. § 4.1 Emergent dynamics of the two longest lived modes First, we explore a low dimensional model reflective of the locomotive dynamics of the spontaneous symmetry broken state. This work demonstrates a smooth crossover between an active-elastic resonator and the excitation of a Goldstone-like mode associated with the spontaneous symmetry breaking. The energy transfer between the two modes is controlled through a dynamical link between the timescale of influence and the resonator frequency. This coupling between the modes is mediated by the distinct timescales of the problems and can be modeled via a smooth crossover between the dominate response of the tissue to a measured perturbation.
Both experimentally and numerically, the dynamics of the next leading order pattern is governed by the evolution of a vortex-like state which is punctuated by a highly mobile +1 point defect.
The localization of this topological defect opens up the alternative description of the long-time dynamics (relative to the transients which scale with system size) of the organism. We propose a simple energy minimization argument which allows us a derive an effective energy landscape for vortex centering. We promote this description to an effective degree of freedom on an energy landscape coupled to the environment by a complicated noise representing the integral across the other modes. We use this model to show the transition from bound to unbound vortex position and hint toward mechanisms to control this particle position as a function of time. These opportunities for control suggest candidate hypothesizes for how the organism harnesses the control of millions of cells in service of the collective without a central neuro-muscular system.
In part 2 of this series of papers on ciliary flocking , we showed how the addition of a rotational degree of freedom coupled to activity fluctuations derived in part 1 could illicit an excitable active elastic system best understood as a manifestation of a parametric amplification and a saturating non-linearity. Continuing along this thread, we propose viewing these collective dynamics via a mode decomposition of the governing dynamics. Previous work in this space has suggested that for a polarized active solid, a natural decomposition basis can be defined by the normal modes of the elastic network itself . In the previous work, the activity is uncorrelated from the displacement fields allowing for a formal analysis of the power distribution between modes. High spatial frequency modes have much higher stiffnesses and characteristic frequencies causing both less amplitude of excitation and more rapid decay of displacement back to zero mode amplitude. Adding a polarized activity to the dynamics adds the lens of explicit mode coupling between excitations.
The work by Ferrante et al shows a compelling decay of mode amplitudes consistent with the combination of explicit mode coupling and more rapid mode decay. We adopt this viewpoint for this work where activity is considered a small perturbation to the passive dynamics and apply it to the interpretation of the energy distribution as a combination of preferential damping and direct § 5 Directly visualizing the attracting manifold mode coupling. § 5 Directly visualizing the attracting manifold The collective dynamics of this dynamical system is amenable to another analysis which does not depend strongly upon the observation of complex trajectories. The high dimensional attracting manifold can be very easily projected down to a simple space which keeps track only of the magnetization amplitude and direction.
To leading order, the dynamics of this collection abides by the physics of a spontaneous symmetry breaking. Commonly, the amplitude is set by the minima of the effective wine-bottle potential and fluctuations in the radial direction have an small energy cost associated with the effective stiffness of the radial mode. Complementary to this massive amplitude mode, the system sterotypically generates a mass-less mode in the azimuthal direction which is commonly called a Goldstone mode . These massless modes allow the system to move around this basin of the wine-bottle shaped potential in response to noise.
For sufficiently small organisms , these dynamics can be directly observed in a low dimensional representation of the attracting manifold which characterizes the motion of the tissue. We call this representation, vector polarization space.
By projecting the 2N degrees of freedom of the tissue into the vector polarization space, we can visualize the time evolution of the collective dynamics of a polarized active elastic sheet as the insilico animal is attracted toward the hyper-sphere attracting manifold embedding in 2N dimensions.
In the simplified dynamics of the numerical model, the dynamics of the tissue quickly approaches the symmetry broken state where the tissue is traveling in a direction coherently. Previous work has shown that these symmetry broken states are linearly stable in active elastic sheets with distributed polarized activity. These results agree with our in-silico experiments where we see that activity noise is sufficient to drive the slow reorientation of the tissues' direction of travel through small excitations to of the Goldstone modes associated with this collective mode. To better classify the dynamics of these lowest lengthscale modes, we adopt heavily used metrics § 5 Directly visualizing the attracting manifold for the angular momentum or vortical polarization : whereâ i is the ith activity vector direction and the δr i is the vector identifying the distance between the cell and center of the tissue. This combintation of metrics keeps track of how much the tissue is rotating and how much the tissue is translating. Rotation is distinct from the Goldstone modes by the fact that a Goldstone mode is a linear excitation of the system on the polarized hypersphere, while rotation represents a highly nonlinear excitation that excites both amplitude and aszimuthal components.
Thus the goal of this work is to understand these highly nonlinear excitation and relaxation processes which drive the tissue toward its attractor manifold. When we plot up the dynamics in this two dimensional space characterised by V and | P |, we can begin to study projections of the relaxation trajectories. Fluid dynamics has a rich history of understanding energy transfer between scales . In turbulent flow driven at macroscopic length scales (in 3D) energy is cascade from long length-scales to short lengthscales. At sufficiently short length scales viscosity takes over and the resistance to shear flow at these short length scales is dissipated as heat into the fluid. In this way, the energy cascade shuttles energy injected at long length scales down to the Kolomorgov scale where it is converted to heat through the viscosity mediated dissipation at short lengthscales.
Critically, nematic and polarized active fluids do not follow the same thread of 'whirls off to heat' . Commonly, active nematic and polarized active fluids are represented in strongly damped environments where momentum is rapidly (instantaneously on the timescale of the other dynamics) dissipated. The energy is injected at the shortest lengthscales of the problem which then selforganize to longer lengthscales through collaboration of the active vectors. This inverse energy cascade has the effect of decreasing the entropy production rate of the system by coupling the energy into longer-lived collective modes rather than the more rapidly dissipated high-spatial frequency modes.
At steady-state, active nematics forego energy transfer by dissipating the energy injected at each lengthscale through a combination of shear and rotational dissipation. This means that that lengthscale selection is driven by an extensional instability at the onset of active nematic turbulence .
In polarized active matter, we have a very different situation in which the energy driving the system out of equilibrium is injected at the shortest length scale . Collective modes are then manifestations of that energy pumping up to longer length scales via mode coupling combined with preferential dissipation of higher energy modes. We can understand a specific example as this inverse energy cascade in the context of our active elastic sheet.
The dynamics of a state of cells can be written simply as: Following Bi et al and Henkes et al we can use the leading order contributions of the gradient of the free energy, to capture the small amplitude response of the system. By expanding our response around a local minimum we can represent the effective dynamics in terms of the dynamical matrix or locally evaluated hessian.
This means that when we expand around the local minimum the dynamics to leading order are dominated by the Hessian (which is this case is identical to the square of the dynamical matrix). If we apply separation of variables, the dynamics become a simple matter of eigenmode with a shared eigenvalue governing the dynamics of that mode. D|ν = λ|ν .
These modes define the basis of upcoming calculations: By plugging these dynamics into our original equations gives us a new set of dynamics in terms of the mode amplitudes: where O ν,µ captures the orthogonal overlap between the modes. By definition the inner product of these modes is zero, and the cross product of these modes represents the coupling between the two modes. Modes which are very similar will have small amplitudes whereas modes that are very different will have strong coupling.
This equation shows the coupling between many amplitude modes mediated through the amplitude of the activity vector. This coupling is conceptually analogous to a symmetric synaptic coupling matrix used often in the artificial neural networks communities to represent information being passed between model neurons. In this system, the overlap matrix of the modes is shaped not by the learning dynamics of the synapse, but instead the mechanical structure of the tissue (including micro-structural disorder and the details of the local activity).
For the purpose of this work, we present the lowest order version of this high dimensional coupled, weakly nonlinear dynamical system. One of the nice things about the active-elastic modes is under a linear approximation we can write the entire equation in terms of second order dynamical system in terms of the mode amplitude . This gives is the time evolution of the amplitude of the ν-th mode as: This is a very interesting looking dynamical system which= has the approximate form of a harmonic oscillator where the effective stiffness arises from the interaction of the many other modes.
This peculiar looking equation can support instantaneous Q-factors for individual modes which exceed 0.5 (and thus are underdamped). These transients are the subject of other work as we showed experimentally, numerically and analytically in work in part 2 .
In the work, we hope to study the underlying manifolds present under all these dynamics, so we will for the moment only study the steady state solutions of this equation which gives us: This activity mediated coupling matrix can be solved for numerically for the case of a triangular grid of a discrete elastic solid with monodisperse particles following the methods of Prakash et al . The resulting normal modes of the elastic structure can be used as the basis set for our amplitude space dynamics. By subsequently solving for the ker(M) numerically (scipy.linalg.null space), we can plot the fixed points in the zero-transients limit of the dynamics. This routine discovers a kernel with dimension 3, the first of the modes is the null vector while the second and third represent superpositions of the basis set modes. Solving numerically for the two kernel modes, we find that the only two states which are steady are the polarized state and the vortex state. This supports the intuition we built from data driven inference in that these two modes represent the foundation of the attracting manifold underlying the behavior of the polarized active elastic sheet animal -T. Adhaerens. § 7 Vortex states This has been seen in milling dynamics of fish schools , rotational dynamics of cell clusters , and numerous other systems often those in confinement. Can we explain these attractors with defect dynamics? § 7.1 A geometric theory for vortex behavior in small organisms Let's begin by assuming that the elastic force balances the difference between the stable velocity and the mean activity. If this is the case, we can write down the contributions via elasticity as: In the limit of linear elasticity, the energy stored in the elasticity takes the form: The next component needed to back of the envelope the energy cost of moving the vortex center § 7 Vortex states away from the center of the organism is the polar equation for a circle which is off-center of coordinates origin.
where r o is the distance between the center of the circle and the origin and R is the radius of the circle itself.
Next, we argue that the cilia can adjust its preferred local speed regulated by the height of the tissue. We have shown that in the high curvature limit, this x-z torque has the ability to tune the local activity to match the local velocity. In this application that means there is an annulus defined between vmax ω and v min ω in which the elastic energy stored to maintain this rotating state is approximately zero.
We can break the total elastic energy of this stable vortex into two terms, one which accounts for the tissue that is moving slower than the minimum speed E inner and the tissue that is moving faster than the maximum speed E outer .
The functional form governing the change of E inner for the case where R − r o > v min ω take the form of a spatial integral: This integral can be solved to find (within the limits of R − r o > v min ω ): suggesting that this contribution of the energy (for small r o ) simply wants a finite rotation speed to reduce its energy.
The outer energy integral can be written with a similar form and in the regime of small displacements (e.g. R − r o > v max /ω): The simplest perspective takes the viewpoint that the vortex moves relative to a fixed organism position.
Let's solve this in the case where v min = v max so we don't have to break the integral up quite as much for a simple pass.
We will also switch perspectives, instead of the organism moving relative to the vortex, we can compress some of this by solving the vortex moving relative to the organism. To make this simple, it is advantageous to solve in Cartesian coordinates instead of polar. We can exploit the fact that the circular organism is azitmuthally symmetric, which allows us to reduce the dimensionality of the vortex position relative to the center of mass of the organism.
This integral takes the form of: This accounts for both the disordered regime and the dragged regime in a single integral (while neglecting v m in and v m ax satisfied regime).
This steady state integral of elastic energy gives us a function we can calculate numerically for all positions r o and ω.
To make further progress we employ the simple axiom that the system will attempt to minimize stored elastic energy for a fixed r o position of the vortex relative to the middle of the organism. § 7 Vortex states This principle suggests that, we can write down the ω that solves for the line minimum of the system for a given r o .
Mathematically this principle translates into: We can then solve this to find ω min (r o ).
Notice that: This is very convenient because it allows us to calculate ω min in the form of the existing integrals.
We can then solve for ω min that satisfies this equation. This gives us: We find an interesting dependence on the vortex velocity as a function of organism size. Smaller organisms display a much more nonlinear dependence of ω min (r o ) than larger organisms. This relationship is plotted in figure 0.11.
The value of this minimization principle is that it allows us to write the minimum elastic energy in terms of the radial distance of the vortex core, by writing E(r o , ω min (r o )). Figure 0.12B shows the resulting energy landscape under the constraint imposed by the energy minimization hypothesis.
Two essential features stand out in this energy landscape: 1) the vortex core is self-centering and bound, and 2) the vortex can be ejected once it reaches r o ∼ 0.65R. This result suggest that vortex dynamics of a circular organism can be understood in the zero-transients limit as diffusion on a simple 1D energy landscape. The kinetics of vortex entry and exit can then be approximately reduced to a Kramer's rate process with a complex noise term. Our findings that the vortex core is bound in the zero-transient limit fits observations well for small organisms. However, larger organisms (in silico and experimental) defy this description.
The breakdown of this description with size can be attributed to two reasons: (1) the increased involvement of higher order modes and (2) the increasing timescale of transients with larger and larger organisms.
The second important implication arises from the interpretation of fluctuations away from the self-centered vortex position. This noise is precisely the dynamics which drive the vortex core away from the center. If this noise grows sufficiently large, this will increase the transition probability of overcoming the bound state energy barrier and sending the vortex off to infinity. From this simple perspective (of a particle diffusing on an energy landscape subject to complex 'noise'), we can characterize the debinding transition as a rate process. It is noteworthy, that in sufficiently high noise environments the +1 defect may delocalize and fail to be simply thought of as a point particle. Below this regime, the noise simply acts to move the vortex core around.
As a first step toward characterizing the noise as a function of system size, we first introduce an important consequence from the inverse energy cascade.
Defining polarization space
To characterize the collective dynamics of an ensemble of cells in terms of their longest lived modes (e.g. the only two (meta) stable modes of an active elastic sheet), we define two measurable diagnostic parameters which are related to the underlying order parameters spanning the entire organism: (1) polarization and (2) vortical polarization.
If we consider a 2d space defined by the Polarization of the θ field and the Vortical Polarization of the θ field, we can define the bound between the two. This bound tells us the value of each of these fields with zero noise in the system. Any noise will have the effect of pulling the measured state off of this bound.
The θ field is defined simply as the uniform increase in speed as you move farther away from a vortex center position. Written in terms of the degrees of freedom, this becomes: To calculate the polarizations, we only need the orientations of the vectors and thus can drop our calculation of ω min for the moment.
The polarization takes the form of: The vortical polarization takes the form of: The first important observation is that these two measures are orthgonal in a sense. When P ro = 1 then P vortical = 0. The same is true for P vortical = 1 then P ro = 0. However, the seemingly natural assumption that they are directly related as P 2 ro + P 2 vortical = 1 is not correct. We can instead define the accessible regions of polarization space in terms of the evaluation of both forms of polarization for various values of the vortex center position, r o .
We begin with the polarization integral: Next we can figure out the vortical order integral. Recall that: For a and b in a 2D vector field.
This allows us to calculate the integral as Solving for these points defines a manifold in Polarization space. When on this manifold, the illustrating this boundary. Notice that this boundary does not reach the quarter circle defined by The definition of this polarization space manifold opens the discussion of how transients and noise can be considered. It also opens up the characterization of how descriptive we need to be with organisms of increasing size. We can define a simple quantity in this space, the distance from the nearest point on this manifold to the point of our system in time represented in this two dimensional space. We call this δP (t).
δP (t) is a measure of how complete the vortex description is of the observed dynamics at any one time. By studying the dynamics of δP (t) in addition to the statistics, we find that larger organisms support more complex spatial arrangements and thus have significantly smaller δP (t) t . § 7.2 Toward a delayed field theory which accommodates multiple vorticies One way to think about systems where the dynamics of the particle are fast relative to the speed of information transfer in the media in the language of delayed or retarded potentials. § 7.3 The dynamics of organismal state represented as a +1 defect traveling on a line.
In the zero-transients limit of a round organism (consistent with intermediate timescales of small organisms), the locomotion kinetics can be represented as a reduced system: a defect core fluctuating on the line orthogonal to the direction of motion. These dynamics can be captured with a simple Langevin equation capturing the dynamics of the point defect on the above defined quasi-static energy landscape.
γ∂ t r = −∂ r E(r) + ξ(r) Figure 0.14 The force on the vortex core −∂ r E(r) is consistent with a bound state characterized by a highly nonlinear storing force up until 0.7R after which the vortex is repelled toward r → ∞.
The force acting on the vortex as a function of the center of the vortex can be solved through numerical integration to find a functional form which looks quite similar to the derivative of the Lorentzian (with modification to r << R regime). The resulting curve show in 0.14, intersects zero at r = 0, r ≈ 0.7R and r → ∞.
Under the note-worthy assumption that the noise is approximately white, we can generate micro- Leveraging the same elastic energy minimization principle used previously, we can also derive ω min . This gives: The quality of the fit of this Lorentzian to our full integral form, motivates writing down an approximate form of the dynamics of the vortex.
The resulting dynamics of the organism takes the form: with the angle of displacement of the center of mass takes the form of: These direct maps can be differentiated a second time to find: The velocity curve admits an approximation: Where r max ≈ 3 4 R is the metastable vortex position.
That also means that ω min , takes the approximate form of: Where r max ≈ 3 4 R is the metastable vortex position.
The approximation for the energy gradient looks like: With: C = 0.0014, r max /R = 0.67, and Γ = 0.84.
Plugging these into our system of equations we find: Let's consider our system as 4 coupled first order differential equations of the form: A final component to the model suggests that r = |r o | with the dynamics being the same whether positive or negative. Since lim r→∞ 1/r = lim r→∞ −1/r, we also will stitch together ±∞ using a modulus at a large distance from the origin.
We have demonstrated the nonlinear map from vortex dynamics onto organismal locomotion establishing the critical link between the role of these defects underlying the high variance behavioral modes of this animal. § 8 Controlling defects to harness collective locomotion Non-neuromuscular placozoa exhibit effectively low dimensional locomotive dynamics in small organisms where the transients are short compared to the locomotive dynamics. These dynamics can be characterized in by the dynamics of an emergent quasi-particle and a manifold associated with the dynamics of this quasi-particle.
Yet, a critical aspect to these behavioral dynamics is the control of the organismal locomotion, both for the organismal tractability and for our own technological benefit (contributing to our understanding of how to harness the collective modes of active matter to do meaningful work). In this section, we report a tool for directly forcing the defect core through a spatially defined activity gradient. These findings have important ramifications for the controllability of placozoa without direct orientational command. § 8.1 Steering a vortex by spatial activity control Patterning spatial activity has become a powerful tool for shaping the dynamics of active matter systems . We ask a similar related question, can spatial activity tuning allow placozoa to harness tens of thousands of legs without a coordinating neuromuscular system? We ask this question by studying the quasi-static forcing on the vortex core under an organism wide spatial activity gradient.
Not only are the vortex within the organism essential for rapid turning dynamics but they illustrate a tool for steering the organism using a spatial activity control (which could be mediated by tissue height dynamics in part 1, chemo-mechanical coupling or even temperature).We can study the dynamics of vortex core manipulation by spatio-temporal activity control by relaxing the radially symmetric assumptions of the previously presented formulation for stable vortex dynamics and by rewriting the immediate forces acting on the vortex with spatially non-uniform activity.
Leveraging the elastic energy minimization principle (which is consistent with the long time dynamics of the vortex), we can write the instantaneous forcing of the vortex in terms of the energy integral: We can define a very simple functional form of the spatial control of the activity by parameterizing the dynamics to leading order in the x direction: Plugging this into our new energy function acts like a constant gradient of activity in the x-direction.
The creation of this constant gradient can be thought of in a number of ways ranging from a constant gradient in a activity modulating chemical or the height of the tissue (as specified in part 1).
The instantaneous force acting on the vortex takes the form of: We can bring our partial derivative inside the integral over the area and evaluate its impact on the § 8 Controlling defects to harness collective locomotion integrand: Next, we use our proposal that the rotational speed of the body adjusts fast compared to the timescale of vortex motion (which is consistent with the observation in small organisms of a bound vortex state) to extract the value of ω which minimizes the free energy for a given r o .
We begin finding ω min (r o ) by evaluating the partial derivative of the energy with respect to the rotational speed.
This is very convenient because it allows us to calculate ω min in the form of the existing integrals.
We can then solve for ω min that satisfies this equation. This gives us: This suggests that the spatial modulation of the activity modifies both the rotational velocity of the vortex.
This gives us in the instantaneous force an activity gradient applies to a vortex core in the quasi-static limit: We can solve for these relationships numerically to explore the role of spatial activity gradients on steering the organism by way of the effective force on the vortex core.
A) B)
Figure 0.16 Spatial activity control guides vortex core motion. A) The vortex core motion can be considered an emergent quasi-particle in quasi-steady state characterized by a position and a rotational speed both of which can be calculated using our tissue elasticity energy minimization. The addition of a spatially encoded activity can be written to lowest order as a uniform gradient v( where the cells on the left are mapping a higher chemical signature to a lower preferred activity than the cells on the left. B) We show that for small spatially encoded activity gradients ∇ x v = {0 = blue, ..., 7%v o = yellow} the effective force acting on the vortex core as a function of position. The size of the stable region decreases rapidly with increasing activity gradient and destabilizes completely when the activity gradient exceeds a critical, size-dependent value.
Activity gradients are a powerful tool for the organism to manipulate the direction of travel through the effective force placed on the defects. In figure 0.16B), we show that the effective force on the vortex core opposes the gradient and above a critical threshold can destabilize the bound state at the center of the organism. This means that the defect core will reliably travel down the activity gradient.
The direct mapping between organismal locomotion and defect dynamics has important ramifications for the effective interaction of the organism's direction of travel with the establishment of a spatial activity gradient. Due to the relationship between defect direction and radius of organismal curvature established in 0.15, this means that a tribotaxing organism will have a strong tendency § 8 Controlling defects to harness collective locomotion to move perpendicular to the spatial gradient in activity.
The control of defects in the collective mechanics of placozoan locomotion can serve as a powerful tool for both us and the organism to steer the tissue on the basis of only locally evaluated fields of chemomechanical or mechanical coupling. § 8.2 Defect stability and dynamics can be controlled by organism shape Placozoa are dynamic shape shifters . In this section, we illustrate how leading order changes to shape (under conserved number of cells) change the steady-state dynamics of the mobile defects which propagate on to the locomotive behavior of the entire organism.
We expand our steady-state defect model to include non-circular organisms by including the leading order contributions to eccentricity. To control for organism size, we use a simple definition for the organism shape of the area preserving form: which controls the region of integration for the defect-parameterized, steady-state displacement field.
In figure 0.17, we show the alteration of the force landscape with respect to change in position of the defect core and extract simple summary metrics for the evolution with changing aspect ratio. At large aspect ratio (AR ∼ 10) the work needed for the defect to escape approaches zero.
However, we also report that at small aspect ratios AR ∼ 2, the defect-debinding energy grows before it shrinks. Intuitively, this growth for small aspect ratio can be understood as a property of the position weighted sum of the energy. Since the total amount of tissue traveling at high speeds is larger for a AR = 2 tissue than the circular tissue the stabilizing force for moving away from the center of the tissue increases. Our objective in this work has been threefold: (1) identify the dominant spatio-temporal modes underlying the collective locomotion of a polarized active elastic sheet (motivated by T. Adhaerens), (2) connect the physical mechanism that shapes these emergent dynamics and (3) derive a deeper understanding of the resulting manifold. Along the way, we have presented a few more general lessons including the importance of high variance modes, one mechanism for deriving emergent § 9 Discussion manifolds from emergent many-body systems and tools for controlling the defects with direct consequences on locomotive behavior of the organism. § 9.1 High variance modes signal locomotion while low variance modes harness simple decision making We have shown that through simple unsupervised techniques that the effective dynamics of a polarized active elastic sheet stimulated by pink activity noise can be captured with the study of relatively few modes. This supports a natural separation between the high variance and low variance modes of the decomposition. Conceptually, the high variance modes carry the bulk of the locomotive information while the low variance modes can influence the locomotive dynamics only through modification of the high variance modes.
The role of the high variance modes is reminiscent of the neural dynamics in the primate motorcortex where grasping events are punctuated by striking low-dimensional projections of the sampled neurons activity space . Here the low variance modes are largely discarded as noise.
In our work, we find that a very different physical system leverages the coupling between the high variance and the low variance modes to evoke higher order behavior and we suggest that this motivates deeper study of the residual modes left behind after subjecting off the high variance contributions. We hope this this approach might lend deeper insights into the dynamics near the decision boundary in plaoczoa and perhaps beyond. This direct could hold important insights into the emergent statistics of the 'noise' terms in our low dimensional dynamics. § 9.2 Connecting the emergent manifolds to a mechanism We subsequently looked to see if the documented dynamics of the modes of the active-elastic network could shed light on the emergence of these effectively low dimensional dynamics. We found that this energy cascade approaches two states in the zero-transients limit: the polarized state and the vortex state. This result fits nicely into the existing literature which has previously identified rotation, flocking and disorder as the dominant modes of a collective fish , birds , insects and cellular systems . Our contribution to the understanding of an active elastic system helps to refine our understanding of what shapes these manifolds and how microscale biophysics can be mapped up to effective organismal behavior through a process of explicit mode coupling mediated through activity.
Our hope is that the paradigm presented in this simple animal may contribute in a small way to the reinforce the community's conversation surrounding not just what the low dimensional behavior manifolds look like but how and perhaps why they are shaped . § 9.3 Controlling defects The active matter community has long used defects as a means for reducing the dimensionality of the system under study . More recent pushes has linked these defect dynamics to the emergent behavior of the underlying system and even manipulating emergent particles in programmable arenas . We look forward to the continued cross-pollination between the emergent low dimensional manifolds sketched out by defect dynamics and the resulting organismal behavior. Perhaps there are more circumstances in the tree of life where the two can profitably meet in the middle to deeper our understanding of the effective dynamics in organism-scale decision making. § 10 Conclusion With a concerted choice in model organism, we have been able to map population dynamics of tens of thousands of dynamically rich cells (e.g. each equipped with a walking cilium capable of bistable switching and a continuous internal orientation state ) onto low order models which capture the bulk of the locomotive behavior of small placozoa. We have shown how these effective low dimensional models arise from a physical self organization of the locomotive activity through an active-elastic inverse energy cascade. The pumping of energy from the shortest lengthscale into collective modes is a hallmark of active matter and the population dynamics of simple neuronal systems . Merging these two ideas may be an interesting way forward toward an alternative understanding of how the local rules shape the emergent manifolds.
A natural followup conjecture is that similar Cascades in mode amplitude space may not simply govern the long-time scale steady state of the dynamics of this distributed sensory-actuator behavioral system, but that the transients of a sub-population of the low-variance modes may evoke rich § 11 Acknowledgements dynamics sufficient to support reservoir/embodied computation .
The physics of behavior community has made tremendous progress on tools for discovering lowdimensional descriptions. This abundance of data from diverse systems is poised to generate deep insight into not just what separates these systems but also want unifies elements of animal behavior ranging across the diverse spectrum. This discussion can only be furthered by a complementary perspective in a simpler system such as the non-neuromuscular placozoa. And yet, there is an opportunity to learn from how this simple system uses a biomechanical design language to control its rapid behavior transitions without a central controller. This paradigm of distributed senses and actuation promises a complementary view of the dynamics of populations of cells in service of the whole animal.
Our work also illustrates the limits of this approach in that it reveals a proliferation of relevant active-elastic modes which scales with organism size. These size dependent dynamics reveal both an enrichment of the locomotive complexity as the organism grows, but also provides an experimental measurement technique for capturing the deviation of the observed dynamics from the effective low-dimensional manifold proposed to capture these dynamics.
When viewed from the perspective of trapped vortex states, ascending cascades of active-elastic modes and spontaneously broken symmetries, the dynamics the mechanics of a living fossil begins to inform some of the governing principles of collective dynamics of large ensembles of cells. These studies provide a concrete and easy to understand terrain for probing how to harness these collective mechanics in service of an animal's survival in a highly dynamic environment.
We expect that this work will be of interest to engineers building with active matter and those seeking general principles governing the physics of animal behavior. § 11 Acknowledgements We thank all members of the PrakashLab for scientific discussions and comments. In particular, |
After the wild success of the Disney Channel’s first “Descendants” movie, one of the most watched cable TV movies in recent years, a script for a sequel has been commissioned, it was announced today.
It is already cable television’s fifth highest-rated movie of all-time and Disney is eager to grow the franchise.
“By almost every measure – domestically and globally – ‘Descendants’ has already become one of the biggest entertainment properties of the year and we’re eager to delve deeper into the unfolding mythology of Auradon and Isle of the Lost,” said Gary Marsh, President and Chief Creative Officer, Disney Channels Worldwide. “This kind of compelling, innovative storytelling, alongside our animated ‘Descendants: Wicked World’ shorts and unique transmedia campaign, continues to lay the groundwork for multiple franchise opportunities across virtually every line of business at The Walt Disney Company.”
To celebrate the success of the movie, the stars of “Descendants” will appear along with director and choreographer Kenny Ortega will meet fans for an on-stage, music and dance-filled event at Downtown Disney District, Disneyland Resort, in Anaheim, California.
A second novel in the “Descendants” literary universe titled “Return to the Isle of the Lost” was also announced today. It will be published in May 2016. |
A Comparison of Computer-Assisted and Self-Management Programs for Reducing Alcohol Use among Students in First Year Experience Courses
The National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism has called for the use of evidence-based approaches to address high-risk drinking prevalent on many college campuses. In line with this recommendation, the present study evaluated the efficacy of two evidence-based approaches to reducing alcohol use. One hundred and three college students in first-year experience courses were randomly assigned by class to participate in a computer-assisted online program (e-Chug Group), skills training program (Self-Management Group), or control condition (Exercise Group). The data indicate that heavier drinkers benefited from the e-Chug program, whereas lighter drinkers benefited from the self-management program. As such, colleges may yield more favorable results when forgoing a blanket approach to decreasing alcohol consumption in favor of matching students with an appropriate alcohol program. |
// Copyright (c) Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
// Licensed under the MIT License.
import {DataType} from '../../../wasm-common';
import {TensorView} from '../../tensor';
import {PoolConvUtil} from '../../util';
import {AttributeWithCacheKey, createAttributeWithCacheKey} from '../attribute-with-cache-key';
import {ComputeContext} from '../types';
import {createGroupedConvProgramInfoLoader} from './conv-grouped';
import {createConv2DMatMulProgramInfoLoader} from './conv2d-mm';
import {InternalActivationAttributes, parseInternalActivationAttributes} from './fuse-utils';
import {createTransposeProgramInfo, TransposeAttributes, transposeProgramMetadata} from './transpose';
export const calculateOutputShape =
(inputShape: readonly number[], kernelShape: readonly number[], dilations: readonly number[],
adjustPads: readonly number[], strides: readonly number[], isChannelLast: boolean): number[] => {
const batchSize = inputShape[0];
const inputSpatialShape = inputShape.slice(isChannelLast ? 1 : 2, isChannelLast ? 3 : 4);
const spatialRank = inputSpatialShape.length;
const outChannels = kernelShape[0];
const kernelSpatialShape = kernelShape.slice(2);
const dilatedKernelShape = kernelSpatialShape.map((v, i) => v + (v - 1) * (dilations[i] - 1));
const inputSpatialShapeWithPad = inputSpatialShape.map((v, i) => v + adjustPads[i] + adjustPads[i + spatialRank]);
const outputShape =
inputSpatialShapeWithPad.map((v, i) => Math.floor((v - dilatedKernelShape[i] + strides[i]) / strides[i]));
outputShape.splice(0, 0, batchSize);
outputShape.splice(isChannelLast ? 3 : 1, 0, outChannels);
return outputShape;
};
export interface ConvAttributes extends InternalActivationAttributes, AttributeWithCacheKey {
readonly autoPad: string;
readonly dilations: readonly number[];
readonly format: 'NHWC'|'NCHW';
readonly group: number;
readonly kernelShape: readonly number[];
readonly pads: readonly number[];
readonly strides: readonly number[];
readonly wIsConst: boolean;
}
// for transposing weight tensor from [M, C/group, KH, KW] to [KH, KW, C/group, M]
const weightTransposeAttribute: TransposeAttributes = createAttributeWithCacheKey({perm: [2, 3, 1, 0]});
const validateInputs = (inputs: readonly TensorView[], attributes: ConvAttributes): void => {
// Refer to the below link for all input checks
// https://github.com/onnx/onnx/blob/master/docs/Operators.md#Conv
if (!inputs || (inputs.length !== 2 && inputs.length !== 3)) {
throw new Error('Conv requires 2 or 3 inputs');
}
// TODO : Need to add support for multi-dimensional conv
if (inputs[0].dims.length !== 4 && inputs[0].dims.length !== 3) {
throw new Error('currently only support conv 1D and 2D');
}
if (inputs[0].dims.length !== inputs[1].dims.length) {
throw new Error('filter does not have same dimension as input');
}
// FILTER_IN_CHANNEL should be equal to DATA_CHANNEL
const dataChannel = inputs[0].dims[attributes.format === 'NHWC' ? inputs[0].dims.length - 1 : 1];
const filterInChannel = inputs[1].dims[1] * attributes.group;
if (dataChannel !== filterInChannel) {
throw new Error('FILTER_IN_CHANNEL should be equal to DATA_CHANNEL');
}
// if bias is provided it should be 1D and the number of elements should be equal to the number of feature maps
if (inputs.length === 3 && (inputs[2].dims.length !== 1 || inputs[1].dims[0] !== inputs[2].dims[0])) {
throw new Error('invalid bias');
}
const spatialRank = inputs[0].dims.length - 2;
// wrong dilations dimension
if (attributes.dilations.length !== spatialRank) {
throw new Error(`dilations should be ${spatialRank}D`);
}
// Wrong strides dimension
if (attributes.strides.length !== spatialRank) {
throw new Error(`strides should be ${spatialRank}D`);
}
// Wrong pads dimension
if (attributes.pads.length !== spatialRank * 2) {
throw new Error(`pads should be ${spatialRank * 2}D`);
}
// if kernelShape is specified, it's data length must be 2 less than dims length of the weights tensor
// (the first 2 dims are batch_size and channels)
if (attributes.kernelShape.length !== 0 && attributes.kernelShape.length !== inputs[1].dims.length - 2) {
throw new Error('invalid kernel shape');
}
// TODO : Need to add support for float64
if (inputs[0].dataType !== DataType.float || inputs[1].dataType !== DataType.float) {
throw new Error('Conv input(X,W) should be float tensor');
}
if (inputs.length === 3 && inputs[2].dataType !== DataType.float) {
throw new Error('Conv input(bias) should be float tensor');
}
};
const getAdjustedConvAttributes = <T extends ConvAttributes>(attributes: T, inputs: readonly TensorView[]): T => {
const kernelShape = attributes.kernelShape.slice();
// if kernelShape is not specified in the attributes of this op, infer it from the weight tensor dims
for (let i = 2; i < inputs[1].dims.length; ++i) {
if (kernelShape[i - 2] === 0) {
kernelShape[i - 2] = inputs[1].dims[i];
}
}
const pads = attributes.pads.slice();
PoolConvUtil.adjustPadsBasedOnAutoPad(
inputs[0].dims, attributes.strides, attributes.dilations, kernelShape, pads, attributes.format === 'NHWC',
attributes.autoPad);
// always return a new object so does not modify the original attributes
const newAttributes: T = Object.assign({}, attributes);
Object.assign(newAttributes, {kernelShape, pads, cacheKey: attributes.cacheKey});
return newAttributes;
};
export const parseConvAttributes = (attributes: Record<string, unknown>): ConvAttributes => {
const activationAttributes = parseInternalActivationAttributes(attributes);
// TODO : Make this generic enough to compute default attributes for multi-dimensional conv
const format = attributes.format as 'NHWC' | 'NCHW';
const autoPad = ['NOTSET', 'VALID', 'SAME_UPPER', 'SAME_LOWER'][attributes.auto_pad as number];
const dilations = attributes.dilations as [number, number];
const group = attributes.group as number;
const kernelShape = attributes.kernel_shape as [number, number];
const pads = attributes.pads as [number, number, number, number];
const strides = attributes.strides as [number, number];
const wIsConst = (attributes.w_is_const as () => boolean)();
return createAttributeWithCacheKey(
{autoPad, format, dilations, group, kernelShape, pads, strides, wIsConst, ...activationAttributes});
};
const conv2d = (context: ComputeContext, inputs: readonly TensorView[], attributes: ConvAttributes): void => {
const adjustedAttributes = getAdjustedConvAttributes(attributes, inputs);
// check attributes
const hasBias = inputs.length === 3;
// const hasPreluActivationWeights = false; /* TODO: add support for prelu activation weights */
const isChannelsLast = attributes.format === 'NHWC';
// const batchSize = context.inputs[0].dims[0];
const inputHeight = inputs[0].dims[isChannelsLast ? 1 : 2];
const inputWidth = inputs[0].dims[isChannelsLast ? 2 : 3];
const inputChannels = inputs[0].dims[isChannelsLast ? 3 : 1];
const weightHeight = inputs[1].dims[2];
const weightWidth = inputs[1].dims[3];
const outputShape = calculateOutputShape(
inputs[0].dims, inputs[1].dims, attributes.dilations, adjustedAttributes.pads, attributes.strides,
isChannelsLast);
const outHeight = outputShape[isChannelsLast ? 1 : 2];
const outWidth = outputShape[isChannelsLast ? 2 : 3];
const outChannels = outputShape[isChannelsLast ? 3 : 1];
const sameSize =
isChannelsLast && weightHeight === inputHeight && weightWidth === inputWidth && attributes.autoPad === 'VALID';
if (sameSize ||
(weightHeight === 1 && weightWidth === 1 && attributes.dilations[0] === 1 && attributes.dilations[1] === 1 &&
attributes.strides[0] === 1 && attributes.strides[1] === 1 &&
(attributes.autoPad === 'SAME_UPPER' || attributes.autoPad === 'SAME_LOWER' ||
attributes.autoPad === 'VALID'))) {
// TODO: implement conv2dByMatMul()
context.compute(createGroupedConvProgramInfoLoader(inputs, adjustedAttributes));
return;
}
if (!isChannelsLast || attributes.group !== 1) {
context.compute(createGroupedConvProgramInfoLoader(inputs, adjustedAttributes));
return;
}
// TODO: implement conv2dWithIm2Col()
const dimAOuter = isChannelsLast ? outHeight * outWidth : outChannels;
const dimBOuter = isChannelsLast ? outChannels : outHeight * outWidth;
const dimInner = weightHeight * weightWidth * inputChannels;
const sequentialAccessByThreads = /* backend.adapterInfo.isIntel() */ true;
// STEP.1: transpose weight
const transposedWeight = (context.kernelCustomData.wT as TensorView | undefined) ??
context.compute(
{
...transposeProgramMetadata,
cacheHint: weightTransposeAttribute.cacheKey,
get: () => createTransposeProgramInfo(inputs[1], weightTransposeAttribute.perm)
},
{inputs: [1], outputs: [attributes.wIsConst ? -2 : -1]})[0];
if (attributes.wIsConst && !context.kernelCustomData.wT) {
context.kernelCustomData.wT = transposedWeight;
}
// STEP.2: prepare reshaped inputs
const convInputs = [inputs[0], transposedWeight];
if (hasBias) {
if (!isChannelsLast && inputs[2].dims.length === 1) {
convInputs.push(inputs[2].reshape([inputs[2].dims[0], 1, 1]));
} else {
convInputs.push(inputs[2]);
}
}
// STEP.3: compute matmul
context.compute(
createConv2DMatMulProgramInfoLoader(
convInputs, adjustedAttributes, outputShape, dimAOuter, dimBOuter, dimInner, hasBias,
sequentialAccessByThreads),
{inputs: convInputs});
};
const conv1d = (context: ComputeContext, attributes: ConvAttributes): void => {
// extend the input to 2D by adding H dimension
const isChannelLast = attributes.format === 'NHWC';
const inputs = [
context.inputs[0].reshape(
isChannelLast ?
// [N, W, C] -> [N, H=1, W, C]
[context.inputs[0].dims[0], 1, context.inputs[0].dims[1], context.inputs[0].dims[2]] :
// [N, C, W] -> [N, C, H=1, W]
[context.inputs[0].dims[0], context.inputs[0].dims[1], 1, context.inputs[0].dims[2]]),
//[FILTER_OUT_CHANNEL, FILTER_IN_CHANNEL, kW] -> [FILTER_OUT_CHANNEL, FILTER_IN_CHANNEL, kH=1, kW]
context.inputs[1].reshape([context.inputs[1].dims[0], context.inputs[1].dims[1], 1, context.inputs[1].dims[2]])
];
if (context.inputs.length === 3) {
inputs.push(context.inputs[2]);
}
const pads = [0, attributes.pads[0], 0, attributes.pads[1]];
const strides = [1].concat(attributes.strides);
const dilations = [1].concat(attributes.dilations);
const kernelShape = [1].concat(attributes.kernelShape);
const adjustedAttributes = getAdjustedConvAttributes({...attributes, pads, strides, dilations, kernelShape}, inputs);
context.compute(createGroupedConvProgramInfoLoader(
inputs, adjustedAttributes,
outputShape => isChannelLast ? [outputShape[0], outputShape[2], outputShape[3]] : []));
};
export const conv = (context: ComputeContext, attributes: ConvAttributes): void => {
validateInputs(context.inputs, attributes); // currently will fail if not conv1D/2D
if (context.inputs[0].dims.length === 3) {
conv1d(context, attributes);
} else {
conv2d(context, context.inputs, attributes);
}
};
|
// Copyright (c) 2011 The LevelDB Authors. All rights reserved.
// Use of this source code is governed by a BSD-style license that can be
// found in the LICENSE file. See the AUTHORS file for names of contributors.
//
// An iterator yields a sequence of key/value pairs from a source.
// The following class defines the interface. Multiple implementations
// are provided by this library. In particular, iterators are provided
// to access the contents of a Table or a DB.
//
// Multiple threads can invoke const methods on an Iterator without
// external synchronization, but if any of the threads may call a
// non-const method, all threads accessing the same Iterator must use
// external synchronization.
#ifndef _TM_BTREE_MAP_ITERATOR_H_
#define _TM_BTREE_MAP_ITERATOR_H_
#include "slice.h"
#include "status.h"
#include "iterator.h"
#include "TMBTreeMap.hpp"
namespace ptmdb {
class TMBTreeMapIterator : public Iterator {
public:
uint8_t pad_a[64];
TMBTreeMap* db_btree = nullptr;
// The state of the iterator is kept in the 'bucket' and 'node'
TMBTreeMap::Node* node = nullptr;
long it = -1;
uint8_t pad_b[64];
TMBTreeMapIterator(TMBTreeMap* db_btree) : db_btree{db_btree} {
}
~TMBTreeMapIterator() {
}
// An iterator is either positioned at a key/value pair, or
// not valid. This method returns true iff the iterator is valid.
bool Valid() const{
if(it==-1) return false;
return true;
}
// Position at the first key in the source. The iterator is Valid()
// after this call iff the source is not empty.
void SeekToFirst(){
TMBTreeMap::Node* n = db_btree->root.pload();
if(n->isLeaf()){
it = -1;
return;
}
while(!n->isLeaf()){
n = n->children[0].pload();
}
node = n;
it = 0;
}
// Position at the last key in the source. The iterator is
// Valid() after this call iff the source is not empty.
void SeekToLast(){
TMBTreeMap::Node* n = db_btree->root.pload();
if(n->isLeaf()){
it = -1;
return;
}
while(!n->isLeaf()){
n = n->children[n->length.pload()].pload();
}
node = n;
it = n->length.pload()-1;
}
// Position at the first key in the source that is at or past target.
// The iterator is Valid() after this call iff the source contains
// an entry that comes at or past target.
void Seek(const Slice& target){
node = db_btree->root.pload();
TMBTreeMap::Node* snode = node;
while(!snode->isLeaf()){
TMBTreeMap::SearchResult sr = snode->search(target);
if (sr.first){
node = snode;
it = sr.second;
return;
}
else{// Internal node
snode = snode->children[sr.second];
}
}
TMBTreeMap::SearchResult sr = snode->search(target);
if(sr.first || sr.second<snode->length){
node = snode;
it = sr.second;
return;
}
node = snode;
while(true){
TMBTreeMap::Node* p = node->parent.pload();
if(p==nullptr) {
it=-1;
return;
}
int32_t index = node->childIndex.pload();
node = p;
if(index != p->length){
it = index;
return;
}
}
}
// Moves to the next entry in the source. After this call, Valid() is
// true iff the iterator was not positioned at the last entry in the source.
// REQUIRES: Valid()
void Next(){
if(it == -1) return;
if(node->isLeaf()){
it++;
if(it<node->length) {
return;
}
while(true){
TMBTreeMap::Node* p = node->parent.pload();
if(p==nullptr) {
it=-1;
return;
}
int32_t index = node->childIndex.pload();
node = p;
if(index < p->length){
it = index;
return;
}
}
}
node = node->children[it+1];
while(!node->isLeaf()){
node = node->children[0];
}
it = 0;
}
// Moves to the previous entry in the source. After this call, Valid() is
// true iff the iterator was not positioned at the first entry in source.
// REQUIRES: Valid()
void Prev(){
if(it == -1) return;
if(node->isLeaf()){
it--;
if(it>=0) {
return;
}
while(true){
TMBTreeMap::Node* p = node->parent.pload();
if(p==nullptr) {
it=-1;
return;
}
int32_t index = node->childIndex.pload();
node = p;
if(index-1 >= 0){
it = index-1;
return;
}
}
}
node = node->children[it];
while(!node->isLeaf()){
node = node->children[node->length];
}
it = node->length-1;
}
// Return the key for the current entry. The underlying storage for
// the returned slice is valid only until the next modification of
// the iterator.
// REQUIRES: Valid()
Slice key() const{
if(it==-1) return Slice();
return node->keys[it].data();
}
// Return the value for the current entry. The underlying storage for
// the returned slice is valid only until the next modification of
// the iterator.
// REQUIRES: Valid()
Slice value() const{
if(it==-1) return Slice();
return node->vals[it].data();
}
// If an error has occurred, return it. Else return an ok status.
Status status() const{
return Status{};
}
// Clients are allowed to register function/arg1/arg2 triples that
// will be invoked when this iterator is destroyed.
//
// Note that unlike all of the preceding methods, this method is
// not abstract and therefore clients should not override it.
//typedef void (*CleanupFunction)(void* arg1, void* arg2);
void RegisterCleanup(CleanupFunction function, void* arg1, void* arg2){
}
// No copying allowed
TMBTreeMapIterator(const TMBTreeMapIterator&);
void operator=(const TMBTreeMapIterator&);
};
} // namespace ptmdb
#endif // _TM_BTREE_MAP_ITERATOR_H_
|
package com.thealgorithms.maths;
import static org.junit.jupiter.api.Assertions.*;
import org.junit.jupiter.api.Test;
public class VolumeTest {
@Test
public void volume() {
/* test cube */
assertTrue(Volume.volumeCube(7) == 343.0);
/* test cuboid */
assertTrue(Volume.volumeCuboid(2, 5, 7) == 70.0);
/* test sphere */
assertTrue(Volume.volumeSphere(7) == 1436.7550402417319);
/* test cylinder */
assertTrue(Volume.volumeCylinder(3, 7) == 197.92033717615698);
/* test hemisphere */
assertTrue(Volume.volumeHemisphere(7) == 718.3775201208659);
/* test cone */
assertTrue(Volume.volumeCone(3, 7) == 65.97344572538566);
/* test prism */
assertTrue(Volume.volumePrism(10, 2) == 20.0);
/* test pyramid */
assertTrue(Volume.volumePyramid(10, 3) == 10.0);
}
}
|
<filename>src/state/api_set.cc
//
// Created by 方泓睿 on 2020/4/10.
//
#include <embryo/state/lua_value.h>
#include <embryo/state/lua_state.h>
#include <embryo/state/lua_table.h>
#include <embryo/state/lua_value.h>
namespace embryo::state {
void LuaState::SetTable(int64_t idx) {
auto t = stack_->Get(idx);
auto v = stack_->Pop();
auto k = stack_->Pop();
SetTable(t, k, v, false);
}
void LuaState::SetTable(const embryo::state::LuaValue &t,
const embryo::state::LuaValue &k,
const embryo::state::LuaValue &v,
bool raw) {
auto[table, ok] = TryCast<LuaTablePtr>(t);
if (ok) {
if (raw || table->Get(k) || !table->HasMetaField("__newindex")) {
table->Put(k, v);
return;
}
}
if (!raw) {
auto mf = state::GetMetaField(t, "__index", shared_from_this());
if (mf) {
switch (TypeOf(mf)) {
case api::LuaValueType::kTable:SetTable(mf, k, v, false);
return;
case api::LuaValueType::kFunction: {
stack_->Push(mf);
stack_->Push(t);
stack_->Push(k);
stack_->Push(v);
Call(3, 0);
return;
}
default:;
}
}
}
Error(MSG_WITH_FUNC_NAME("index is not supported on this type"));
}
void LuaState::SetField(int64_t idx, std::string k) {
auto t = stack_->Get(idx);
auto v = stack_->Pop();
SetTable(t, k, v, false);
}
void LuaState::SetI(int64_t idx, int64_t i) {
auto t = stack_->Get(idx);
auto v = stack_->Pop();
SetTable(t, i, v, false);
}
void LuaState::RawSet(int64_t idx) {
auto t = stack_->Get(idx);
auto v = stack_->Pop();
auto k = stack_->Pop();
SetTable(t, k, v, true);
}
void LuaState::RawSetI(int64_t idx, int64_t i) {
auto t = stack_->Get(idx);
auto v = stack_->Pop();
SetTable(t, i, v, true);
}
void LuaState::SetMetatable(int64_t idx) {
auto val = stack_->Get(idx);
auto mt_val = stack_->Pop();
if (!mt_val)
state::SetMetaTable(val, nullptr, shared_from_this());
else {
auto[mt, ok]=TryCast<LuaTablePtr>(mt_val);
if (ok) {
state::SetMetaTable(val, mt, shared_from_this());
return;
}
}
Error(MSG_WITH_FUNC_NAME("table expected")); // TODO
}
} |
/**
* Build the routing from {@link IndexMetadata}.
*/
public static IndexRouting fromIndexMetadata(IndexMetadata metadata) {
if (false == metadata.getRoutingPaths().isEmpty()) {
return new ExtractFromSource(metadata);
}
if (metadata.isRoutingPartitionedIndex()) {
return new Partitioned(metadata);
}
return new Unpartitioned(metadata);
} |
import { useTranslation } from 'next-i18next';
interface AlertProps {
onClose?: () => void;
type: 'error' | 'warning';
message: string;
}
function Alert(props: AlertProps): JSX.Element {
const { t } = useTranslation(['index', 'errors']);
let spanStyle = 'bg-red-100 border border-red-400 text-red-700';
let svgStyle = 'text-red-500';
let icon;
switch (props.type) {
case 'error':
// icon = () =>
// <svg className="w-4 h-4 fill-current" viewBox="0 0 20 20"><path d="M10 18a8 8 0 100-16 8 8 0 000 16zM8.707 7.293a1 1 0 00-1.414 1.414L8.586 10l-1.293 1.293a1 1 0 101.414 1.414L10 11.414l1.293 1.293a1 1 0 001.414-1.414L11.414 10l1.293-1.293a1 1 0 00-1.414-1.414L10 8.586 8.707 7.293z" clip-rule="evenodd" fill-rule="evenodd"></path></svg>
break;
case 'warning':
spanStyle = 'bg-yellow-100 border border-yellow-400 text-yellow-700';
svgStyle = 'text-yellow-500';
break;
}
return (
<div className={`flex items-center ${spanStyle} px-4 py-3 mt-5 rounded relative`} role="alert">
{icon && icon()}
<span className="block sm:inline pr-6" id="message">{props.message}</span>
{props.onClose && <span className="absolute right-0 px-4 py-3" onClick={props.onClose}>
<svg className={`fill-current h-6 w-6 ${svgStyle}`} role="button" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"
viewBox="0 0 20 20">
<title>{t('index:errorClose')}</title>
<path
d="M14.348 14.849a1.2 1.2 0 0 1-1.697 0L10 11.819l-2.651 3.029a1.2 1.2 0 1 1-1.697-1.697l2.758-3.15-2.759-3.152a1.2 1.2 0 1 1 1.697-1.697L10 8.183l2.651-3.031a1.2 1.2 0 1 1 1.697 1.697l-2.758 3.152 2.758 3.15a1.2 1.2 0 0 1 0 1.698z" />
</svg>
</span>}
</div>
)
}
export default Alert; |
Share. The end is here for Emily. The end is here for Emily.
There will be no more revenging for Emily Thorne, as ABC has cancelled Revenge after four seasons. EW broke the news, revealing that the season finale on May 10th will also function as a series finale.
Executive producer Sunil Nayar told EW, “We can officially tell our fans that this will be the end of the story. We’ve been talking to the network and we all just wanted to make sure that we felt very confident. Now that everybody has seen the finale -- which is fabulous -- everybody understands that as much as we all adore the show, it has hit exactly the mark it needed to to end. This is the series finale of Revenge that will be airing in a couple weeks.”
Revenge began strong in its first season, with a lot of buzz and good reviews for its story of a woman infiltrating the world of the high society types who'd ruined her family's life when she was a child, but the ratings (and acclaim) began to dwindle in subsequent years.
Nayar tells EW that the finale will offer closure, while also hinting at a "a tiny little cliffhanger." There are rumors that new ABC pilot The Kingmakers, from Revenge writer/producer Sallie Patrick, could in fact be a spinoff of Revenge but Nayar remained coy on that possibility.
Last year, Revenge star Emily VanCamp became a part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe thanks to her role as Agent 13/Sharon Carter in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. With VanCamp's schedule now clear, no doubt questions will arise about her Marvel future. There's no word yet on whether she'll return in Captain America: Civil War, but of course her ex-SHIELD agent character could also fit in on the TV series Marvel's Agents of SHIELD or the in-the-works SHIELD spinoff, said to feature Bobbi Morse/Mockingbird (Adrianne Palicki) and Lance Hunter (Nick Blood). |
/*A word or a sentence in some language is called a pangram if all the characters of the alphabet of this language appear in it at least once. Pangrams are often used to demonstrate
fonts in printing or test the output devices.
You are given a string consisting of lowercase and uppercase Latin letters. Check whether this string is a pangram. We say that the string contains a letter of the Latin alphabet if this
letter occurs in the string in uppercase or lowercase.
Input
The first line contains a single integer n (1 ≤ n ≤ 100) — the number of characters in the string.
The second line contains the string. The string consists only of uppercase and lowercase Latin letters.
Output
Output "YES", if the string is a pangram and "NO" otherwise.*/
#include<stdio.h>
#include<string.h>
#include<ctype.h>
int main()
{
int n,i,j,c=0,tmp;
scanf("%d",&n);
char a[n+1];
scanf("%s",a);
for(i=0;i<n;i++)
{
a[i]=tolower(a[i]);
}
for(i=1;i<n;i++)
{
for(j=i-1;j>=0;j--)
{
if(a[j]>a[j+1])
{
tmp=a[j];
a[j]=a[j+1];
a[j+1]=tmp;
}
}
}
for(i=0;i<n;i++)
{
if(a[i]!=a[i+1]) c++;
}
if(c==26)
{
printf("YES\n");
}
else
{
printf("NO\n");
}
return 0;
}
|
<reponame>douglasdsda/Proffy<gh_stars>1-10
import { Router } from 'express';
import ResetPasswordController from '../../controllers/ResetPasswordController';
const resetPasswordRouter = Router();
const resetPasswordController = new ResetPasswordController();
resetPasswordRouter.post('/', resetPasswordController.create);
export default resetPasswordRouter;
|
When the transfer window opens in July, Orlando City star forward Cyle Larin will be the latest player to find himself in the middle of the tug-of-war between the interests of Major League Soccer, Orlando City and his own personal goals.
It’s a path familiar to just about any player who has been transferred out of the league, or, in some cases, not sold despite interest from overseas. The process is often complicated, and it will be no different for Larin.
Any transfer needs to be a win-win for all sides. The player the club and the league, and we’ll all be a part of that decision-making process. - Orlando City GM Niki Budalic
Larin has deflected any talk about potential transfers, but he has voiced a desire to eventually test himself in the top European leagues. In an exclusive interview with FourFourTwo, Larin’s agent, Costa Smyrniotis, said MLS had yet to respond to the first formal transfer bids submitted to the club. In addition, Smyrniotis said Orlando City has not approached Larin about negotiating a new contract.
Larin is currently paid a base salary of $150,000, third-best among forwards on his own team despite scoring 50 percent of the team’s goals this season. He is in the third year of a contract that includes team options for 2018 and 2019.
“He’s fully aware of the interest and the upsides of this interest from clubs outside the league and what that would mean for him, for his career, for his trajectory, his continued development and obviously financially,” Smyrniotis said.
“But he’s remained laser-focused on Orlando. He’s very tight-lipped about it; he focuses on his team and the great [fan] support in Orlando and that’s the way he’ll continue to be. His [guaranteed] contract is ending at the end of the year and there’s been absolutely no contact from the club to express an interest to keep him going forward. So it’s understandable on his part that there’s a little bit of uncertainty as we get closer to the end of the season.”
Asked if Larin would expect a new deal if not sold, Smyrniotis was blunt.
“I would think that you would take care of your most important player in this situation and not allow it to get to a point where it starts becoming difficult,” he said.
It’s a conversation the club is willing to have, Orlando City general manager Niki Budalic told FourFourTwo.
Orlando City coach Jason Kreis has struck an assertive tone in multiple interviews about Larin, saying the team is keen on keeping its star striker. Kreis told ESPN last week that, “[Larin] is our player. We'll lose him when we want to lose him. He can't go anywhere unless we sell him, so we're very much a part of the decision." He also said in an interview with Goal.com that the team won’t stand in the way of what the player wants.
Budalic said the team has rejected both offers it received, and reiterated that Larin is not currently for sale.
“We are very happy with Cyle Larin; we are not looking to sell Cyle Larin this year because we want to keep him and we want to win,” Budalic said. “We’re not putting a price on the player, we’re not trying to sell the player; he’s an Orlando City player and we are trying to keep him. There’s no motivation to try to sell him. If Cyle is interested in signing a new contract, we are more than happy to sit and talk with him about it. We are ready to discuss Cyle’s future. …
“Any transfer needs to be a win-win for all sides,” he said. “The player the club and the league, and we’ll all be a part of that decision-making process.”
Kim Klement-USA TODAY Sports
Larin’s future will be at the forefront of any discussion about Orlando City for the foreseeable future, especially in the next two transfer windows. A strong Gold Cup with Canada would only increase the speculation.
Discussions with multiple sources in and around MLS, all of whom have experience with transfers overseas, have painted a complicated picture about the future of Larin, who has scored 38 goals in 71 MLS appearances over the past two and a half seasons.
One league source put it bluntly: It’s more likely Larin is signed to a long-term Designated Player contract this year than it is that he’s sold for more than $5 million.
Every aspect of this decision is layered with multiple opinions, factors and variables. It’s not as simple as slapping a number on him or comparing him to sales that have happened before. I broke down the three biggest areas of the Larin decision: determining fair value on the transfer market, what goes into deciding to sell and Larin’s value if he stays in MLS.
NEXT: The challenge of setting a value on Larin |
<filename>cache_level2/follow.go<gh_stars>1-10
package cache_level2
import (
"database/sql"
"gitlab.com/stihi/stihi-backend/app"
)
/*
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) SaveFollowFromOperation(op *types.FollowOperation, ts time.Time) (int64, error) {
// Все проверки на уровне cache_level1
var id int64
// Получаем id юзера
userId, err := dbConn.GetUserId(op.Follower)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
if len(op.What) == 0 || op.What[0] == "" {
// Отписка и удаление из игнора
// Отписка
err := dbConn.FollowRemove(userId, op.Following)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
// Удаление из игнора
err = dbConn.IgnoreRemove(userId, op.Following)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
id = 0
} else if op.What[0] == "blog" {
// Подписка и удаление из игнора
// Удаление из игнора
err = dbConn.IgnoreRemove(userId, op.Following)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
// Подписка
err = dbConn.FollowAdd(userId, op.Following)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
} else if op.What[0] == "ignore" {
// Отписка и добавление в игнор
// Отписка
err := dbConn.FollowRemove(userId, op.Following)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
// Добавление в игнор
err = dbConn.IgnoreAdd(userId, op.Following)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return -1, err
}
}
return id, nil
}
*/
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) IgnoreRemove(userId int64, name string) error {
_, err := dbConn.Do(
`DELETE FROM blacklist WHERE user_id = $1 AND ignore_author = $2`,
userId, name,
)
return err
}
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) FollowRemove(userId int64, name string) error {
_, err := dbConn.Do(
`DELETE FROM follows WHERE user_id = $1 AND subscribed_for = $2`,
userId, name,
)
return err
}
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) IgnoreAdd(userId int64, name string) (error) {
_, err := dbConn.Do(
`INSERT INTO blacklist (user_id, ignore_author)
VALUES ($1, $2)
ON CONFLICT DO NOTHING`,
userId, name,
)
return err
}
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) FollowAdd(userId int64, name string) (error) {
_, err := dbConn.Do(
`INSERT INTO follows (user_id, subscribed_for)
VALUES ($1, $2)
ON CONFLICT DO NOTHING`,
userId, name,
)
return err
}
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) GetFollowsCount() (int64, error) {
return dbConn.GetTableCount("follows")
}
// Список подписчиков
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) GetUserFollowersList(userId int64) ([]*UserInfo, error) {
userName, err := dbConn.GetUserNameById(userId)
if err != nil {
app.Error.Print(err)
return nil, err
}
rows, err := dbConn.Query(`
SELECT u.id, u.name,
u.val_cyber_10x6, u.val_golos_10x6, u.val_power_10x6,
ui.nickname, ui.birthdate, ui.biography,
ui.sex, ui.place, ui.web_site,
ui.avatar_image, ui.background_image, ui.pvt_posts_show_mode, ui.email
FROM follows f, users u
LEFT JOIN users_info ui ON u.id = ui.user_id
WHERE
f.subscribed_for = $1 AND u.id = f.user_id AND u.stihi_user
ORDER BY ui.nickname, u.name`,
userName)
if err != nil {
return nil, err
}
defer rows.Close()
list := make([]*UserInfo, 0)
for rows.Next() {
userInfo := UserInfo{}
var nickName sql.NullString
var biography sql.NullString
var birthdate NullTime
var sex sql.NullString
var place sql.NullString
var webSite sql.NullString
var avatarImage sql.NullString
var backgroundImage sql.NullString
var pvtPostsShowMode sql.NullString
var email sql.NullString
rows.Scan(
&userInfo.Id,
&userInfo.Name,
&userInfo.ValCyber,
&userInfo.ValGolos,
&userInfo.ValPower,
&nickName,
&birthdate,
&biography,
&sex,
&place,
&webSite,
&avatarImage,
&backgroundImage,
&pvtPostsShowMode,
&email,
)
if nickName.Valid {
userInfo.NickName = nickName.String
}
if biography.Valid {
userInfo.Biography = biography.String
}
if birthdate.Valid {
userInfo.BirthDate = birthdate.Format()
}
if sex.Valid {
userInfo.Sex = sex.String
}
if place.Valid {
userInfo.Place = place.String
}
if webSite.Valid {
userInfo.WebSite = webSite.String
}
if avatarImage.Valid {
userInfo.AvatarImage = avatarImage.String
}
if backgroundImage.Valid {
userInfo.BackgroundImage = backgroundImage.String
}
if pvtPostsShowMode.Valid {
userInfo.PvtPostsShowMode = pvtPostsShowMode.String
}
if email.Valid {
userInfo.Email = email.String
}
list = append(list, &userInfo)
}
return list, nil
}
// Список тех, на кого подписан
func (dbConn *CacheLevel2) GetUserFollowsList(userId int64) ([]*UserInfo, error) {
rows, err := dbConn.Query(`
SELECT u.id, u.name,
u.val_cyber_10x6, u.val_golos_10x6, u.val_power_10x6,
ui.nickname, ui.birthdate, ui.biography,
ui.sex, ui.place, ui.web_site,
ui.avatar_image, ui.background_image, ui.pvt_posts_show_mode, ui.email
FROM follows f, users u
LEFT JOIN users_info ui ON u.id = ui.user_id
WHERE
f.user_id = $1 AND u.name = f.subscribed_for AND u.stihi_user
ORDER BY ui.nickname, u.name`,
userId)
if err != nil {
return nil, err
}
defer rows.Close()
list := make([]*UserInfo, 0)
for rows.Next() {
userInfo := UserInfo{}
var nickName sql.NullString
var biography sql.NullString
var birthdate NullTime
var sex sql.NullString
var place sql.NullString
var webSite sql.NullString
var avatarImage sql.NullString
var backgroundImage sql.NullString
var pvtPostsShowMode sql.NullString
var email sql.NullString
rows.Scan(
&userInfo.Id,
&userInfo.Name,
&userInfo.ValCyber,
&userInfo.ValGolos,
&userInfo.ValPower,
&nickName,
&birthdate,
&biography,
&sex,
&place,
&webSite,
&avatarImage,
&backgroundImage,
&pvtPostsShowMode,
&email,
)
if nickName.Valid {
userInfo.NickName = nickName.String
}
if biography.Valid {
userInfo.Biography = biography.String
}
if birthdate.Valid {
userInfo.BirthDate = birthdate.Format()
}
if sex.Valid {
userInfo.Sex = sex.String
}
if place.Valid {
userInfo.Place = place.String
}
if webSite.Valid {
userInfo.WebSite = webSite.String
}
if avatarImage.Valid {
userInfo.AvatarImage = avatarImage.String
}
if backgroundImage.Valid {
userInfo.BackgroundImage = backgroundImage.String
}
if pvtPostsShowMode.Valid {
userInfo.PvtPostsShowMode = pvtPostsShowMode.String
}
if email.Valid {
userInfo.Email = email.String
}
list = append(list, &userInfo)
}
return list, nil
}
|
/**
* <pre>
* WithdrawShare defines a method for withdrawing a share from a bond that is in the SETTLE stage.
* </pre>
*/
public void withdrawShare(ixo.bonds.Tx.MsgWithdrawShare request,
io.grpc.stub.StreamObserver<ixo.bonds.Tx.MsgWithdrawShareResponse> responseObserver) {
asyncUnaryCall(
getChannel().newCall(getWithdrawShareMethod(), getCallOptions()), request, responseObserver);
} |
/**
* :: Experimental ::
* A label indexer that maps a string column of labels to an ML column of label indices.
* If the input column is numeric, we cast it to string and index the string values.
* The indices are in [0, numLabels), ordered by label frequencies.
* So the most frequent label gets index 0.
* <p>
* @see {@link IndexToString} for the inverse transformation
*/
public class StringIndexer extends org.apache.spark.ml.Estimator<org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexerModel> implements org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexerBase, org.apache.spark.ml.util.DefaultParamsWritable {
static public org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexer load (java.lang.String path) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
public java.lang.String uid () { throw new RuntimeException(); }
// not preceding
public StringIndexer (java.lang.String uid) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
public StringIndexer () { throw new RuntimeException(); }
/** @group setParam */
public org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexer setHandleInvalid (java.lang.String value) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
/** @group setParam */
public org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexer setInputCol (java.lang.String value) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
/** @group setParam */
public org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexer setOutputCol (java.lang.String value) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
public org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexerModel fit (org.apache.spark.sql.DataFrame dataset) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
public org.apache.spark.sql.types.StructType transformSchema (org.apache.spark.sql.types.StructType schema) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
public org.apache.spark.ml.feature.StringIndexer copy (org.apache.spark.ml.param.ParamMap extra) { throw new RuntimeException(); }
} |
We reported earlier that THQ has declared bankruptcy and is now seeking a new owner. But one of the unfortunate realities of such a miserable situation is having to declare all of your assets. And in a game company's case, that means revealing every game you've got in development. There are four titles we didn't know about:
Turtle Rock Studios: Working title 'Evolve'
THQ Montreal: Working title '1666'
Relic Entertainment: Working title 'Atlas'
Vigil Games: Working title 'Crawler'
And of course we would have guessed Saints Row 4 would be in there, but here's the confirmation. This is THQ's list of active games in full, along with sales projections, taken from the bankruptcy filing itself.
THQ is expecting to be able to continue developing and publishing as normal as it seeks a new owner, so we should still see these games at some point in the not-too-distant future. |
Transport properties of nitrogen in single walled carbon nanotubes.
Transport properties including collective and tracer diffusivities of nitrogen, modeled as a diatomic molecule, in single walled carbon nanotubes have been studied by equilibrium molecular dynamics at different temperatures and as a function of pressure. It is shown that while the asymptotic decay of the translational and rotational velocity autocorrelation function is algebraic, the collective velocity decays exponentially with the relaxation time related to the interfacial friction. The tracer diffusivity in the nanochannel, which is comparable in magnitude with diffusivity in the equilibrium bulk phase, depends only weakly on the conditions at the fluid-solid interface, whereas the collective diffusivity is a strong function of the hydrodynamic boundary conditions and is found to be three orders of magnitude higher than self-diffusivity in carbon nanotubes and for the comparatively rough surface of the rare-gas tube it is one order of magnitude greater. A relationship between the collective diffusivity and the Maxwell coefficient describing wall collisions is obtained. The transport coefficients appear to be insensitive to the long-range details of the potential function. |
/**
* Reason for a specific bound on a variable.
*
* The reason can be a literal that was set by the dpll engine
* ({@link LiteralReason}) or it is a composite reason ({@link CompositeReason})
* build from the sum of other reasons.
* Each LinVar keeps a list of reasons for upper and lower bounds, starting
* with the most tight reason.
*
* A special case are LiteralReasons that have inequalities as literals.
* These must have a strict bound and are followed by another reason
* explaining, why the bound holds non-strictly. In integer arithmetic the
* bound is an integer and the next bound is the next integer.
*
* @see LiteralReason
* @see CompositeReason
* @author Juergen Christ, Jochen Hoenicke
*/
public abstract class LAReason {
private final LinVar mVar;
protected InfinitNumber mBound;
private LAReason mOldReason;
private final boolean mIsUpper;
/**
* The most recently asserted literal reason that caused this LAreason
* to be created. If this class is a LiteralReason and was created
* by an asserted Literal this points to this class.
*/
private final LiteralReason mLastlit;
public LAReason(LinVar var, InfinitNumber bound, boolean isUpper, LiteralReason lastLit) {
mVar = var;
mBound = bound;
mIsUpper = isUpper;
mLastlit = lastLit == null ? (LiteralReason) this : lastLit;
}
/**
* Get the effective bound of this reason.
* @return Effective bound of this reason.
*/
public InfinitNumber getBound() {
return mBound;
}
/**
* Get the exact bound of this reason.
* @return Exact bound of this reason.
*/
public InfinitNumber getExactBound() {
return mBound;
}
public LinVar getVar() {
return mVar;
}
public boolean isUpper() {
return mIsUpper;
}
public LAReason getOldReason() {
return mOldReason;
}
public void setOldReason(LAReason old) {
mOldReason = old;
}
/**
* This returns the LiteralReason containing the most recent literal
* that was set and which contributed to this reason.
* This is the one that also stores this reason in its dependent list.
* @return the literal reason.
*/
public LiteralReason getLastLiteral() {
return mLastlit;
}
/**
* Explain this reason. This may also explain a similar weaker formula
* weakened by a value less than slack and returns the slack minus the
* amount the formula was weakened. The explanation of an upper bound
* poly(x,y,z) <= bound is a set of literals p_1(x,y,z) <= b_1,...,
* p_n(x,y,z) <= bn, with coefficient c_1,...,c_n >= 0, such that
* sum c_i p_i(x,y,z) = p(x,y,z) and sum c_i b_i = bound - eps, where
* eps < slack. The return value of the function is slack - eps.
* The explanation is added to the annotation which contains a map that
* assigns each literal p_i(x,y,z) <= b_i the coefficient c_i.
* @param explainer the explainer object that helps explaining.
* @param slack a positive amount by which the formula may be weakened.
* @param literals the set of literals.
* @return the new positive slack that may be reduced.
*/
abstract InfinitNumber explain(Explainer explainer,
InfinitNumber slack, Rational factor);
@Override
public String toString() {
return mVar + (mIsUpper ? "<=" : ">=") + mBound;
}
@Override
public int hashCode() {
return HashUtils.hashJenkins(mBound.hashCode(), mVar);
}
public Term toSMTLIB(Theory smtTheory, boolean useAuxVars) {
final MutableAffinTerm at = new MutableAffinTerm();
at.add(Rational.ONE, mVar);
at.add(mBound.negate());
if (!mIsUpper) {
at.add(mVar.getEpsilon());
}
final Term posTerm = at.toSMTLibLeq0(smtTheory, useAuxVars);
return (mIsUpper ? posTerm : smtTheory.term("not", posTerm));
}
} |
<reponame>eugenecartwright/hthreads
const char pride[] = "\
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pride and Prejudice, by <NAME>\n\
(#8 in our series by <NAME>)\n\
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Title: Pride and Prejudice\n\
\n\
Author: <NAME>\n\
\n\
Release Date: Jun, 1998 [EBook #1342]\n\
[Most recently updated: April 21, 2006]\n\
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Edition: 12\n\
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Character set encoding: ASCII\n\
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ***\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Pride and Prejudice\n\
\n\
by Jane Austen\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 1\n\
\n\
\n\
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in\n\
possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.\n\
\n\
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may\n\
be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well\n\
fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered\n\
the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.\n\
\n\
\"My dear Mr. Bennet,\" said his lady to him one day, \"have you\n\
heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.\n\
\n\
\"But it is,\" returned she; \"for Mrs. Long has just been here, and\n\
she told me all about it.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet made no answer.\n\
\n\
\"Do you not want to know who has taken it?\" cried his wife\n\
impatiently.\n\
\n\
\"_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.\"\n\
\n\
This was invitation enough.\n\
\n\
\"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield\n\
is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of\n\
England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to\n\
see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed\n\
with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession\n\
before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the\n\
house by the end of next week.\"\n\
\n\
\"What is his name?\"\n\
\n\
\"Bingley.\"\n\
\n\
\"Is he married or single?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large\n\
fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our\n\
girls!\"\n\
\n\
\"How so? How can it affect them?\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear Mr. Bennet,\" replied his wife, \"how can you be so\n\
tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying\n\
one of them.\"\n\
\n\
\"Is that his design in settling here?\"\n\
\n\
\"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely\n\
that he _may_ fall in love with one of them, and therefore you\n\
must visit him as soon as he comes.\"\n\
\n\
\"I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you\n\
may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still\n\
better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, <NAME>\n\
may like you the best of the party.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly _have_ had my share of\n\
beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now.\n\
When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to give\n\
over thinking of her own beauty.\"\n\
\n\
\"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.\"\n\
\n\
\"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see <NAME> when\n\
he comes into the neighbourhood.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is more than I engage for, I assure you.\"\n\
\n\
\"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment\n\
it would be for one of them. Sir William and <NAME> are\n\
determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you\n\
know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will\n\
be impossible for _us_ to visit him if you do not.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will\n\
be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to\n\
assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he\n\
chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for\n\
my little Lizzy.\"\n\
\n\
\"I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better\n\
than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as\n\
Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always\n\
giving _her_ the preference.\"\n\
\n\
\"They have none of them much to recommend them,\" replied he;\n\
\"they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy\n\
has something more of quickness than her sisters.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Bennet, how _can_ you abuse your own children in such a\n\
way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion\n\
for my poor nerves.\"\n\
\n\
\"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your\n\
nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention\n\
them with consideration these last twenty years at least.\"\n\
\n\
\"Ah, you do not know what I suffer.\"\n\
\n\
\"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young\n\
men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.\"\n\
\n\
\"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since\n\
you will not visit them.\"\n\
\n\
\"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will\n\
visit them all.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour,\n\
reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty\n\
years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his\n\
character. _Her_ mind was less difficult to develop. She was a\n\
woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain\n\
temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous.\n\
The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its\n\
solace was visiting and news.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 2\n\
\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr.\n\
Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last\n\
always assuring his wife that he should not go; and till the\n\
evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it.\n\
It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his\n\
second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly\n\
addressed her with:\n\
\n\
\"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.\"\n\
\n\
\"We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Bingley likes,\" said\n\
her mother resentfully, \"since we are not to visit.\"\n\
\n\
\"But you forget, mamma,\" said Elizabeth, \"that we shall meet\n\
him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce\n\
him.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two\n\
nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I\n\
have no opinion of her.\"\n\
\n\
\"No more have I,\" said Mr. Bennet; \"and I am glad to find that\n\
you do not depend on her serving you.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to\n\
contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.\n\
\n\
\"Don\'t keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven\'s sake! Have a little\n\
compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.\"\n\
\n\
\"Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,\" said her father; \"she\n\
times them ill.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not cough for my own amusement,\" replied Kitty fretfully.\n\
\"When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?\"\n\
\n\
\"To-morrow fortnight.\"\n\
\n\
\"Aye, so it is,\" cried her mother, \"and <NAME> does not come\n\
back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to\n\
introduce him, for she will not know him herself.\"\n\
\n\
\"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and\n\
introduce Mr. Bingley to _her_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted\n\
with him myself; how can you be so teasing?\"\n\
\n\
\"I honour your circumspection. A fortnight\'s acquaintance is\n\
certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by\n\
the end of a fortnight. But if _we_ do not venture somebody else\n\
will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her daughters must stand their\n\
chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness,\n\
if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.\"\n\
\n\
The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only,\n\
\"Nonsense, nonsense!\"\n\
\n\
\"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?\" cried\n\
he. \"Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress\n\
that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with\n\
you _there_. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of\n\
deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts.\"\n\
\n\
Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.\n\
\n\
\"While Mary is adjusting her ideas,\" he continued, \"let us return\n\
to Mr. Bingley.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am sick of <NAME>,\" cried his wife.\n\
\n\
\"I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did not you tell me that\n\
before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would\n\
not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have\n\
actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.\"\n\
\n\
The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of\n\
Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first\n\
tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she\n\
had expected all the while.\n\
\n\
\"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should\n\
persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well\n\
to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it\n\
is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning\n\
and never said a word about it till now.\"\n\
\n\
\"Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,\" said Mr.\n\
Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the\n\
raptures of his wife.\n\
\n\
\"What an excellent father you have, girls!\" said she, when the\n\
door was shut. \"I do not know how you will ever make him\n\
amends for his kindness; or me, either, for that matter. At our\n\
time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making\n\
new acquaintances every day; but for your sakes, we would do\n\
anything. Lydia, my love, though you _are_ the youngest, I dare\n\
say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh!\" said Lydia stoutly, \"I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the\n\
youngest, I\'m the tallest.\"\n\
\n\
The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he\n\
would return Mr. Bennet\'s visit, and determining when they\n\
should ask him to dinner.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 3\n\
\n\
\n\
Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her\n\
five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw\n\
from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley.\n\
They attacked him in various ways--with barefaced questions,\n\
ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the\n\
skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the\n\
second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, <NAME>. Her\n\
report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted\n\
with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely\n\
agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next\n\
assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful!\n\
To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love;\n\
and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley\'s heart were entertained.\n\
\n\
\"If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at\n\
Netherfield,\" said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, \"and all the\n\
others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.\"\n\
\n\
In a few days <NAME> returned <NAME>\'s visit, and sat\n\
about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained\n\
hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of\n\
whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father.\n\
The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the\n\
advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he wore\n\
a blue coat, and rode a black horse.\n\
\n\
An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and\n\
already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do\n\
credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which\n\
deferred it all. <NAME> was obliged to be in town the\n\
following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour\n\
of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted.\n\
She could not imagine what business he could have in town so\n\
soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear\n\
that he might be always flying about from one place to another,\n\
and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. <NAME>\n\
quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone\n\
to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report\n\
soon followed that <NAME> was to bring twelve ladies and\n\
seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved\n\
over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day\n\
before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought\n\
only six with him from London--his five sisters and a cousin.\n\
And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of\n\
only five altogether--<NAME>, his two sisters, the husband\n\
of the eldest, and another young man.\n\
\n\
<NAME> was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant\n\
countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine\n\
women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr.\n\
Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon\n\
drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome\n\
features, noble mien, and the report which was in general\n\
circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having\n\
ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine\n\
figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than\n\
Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about\n\
half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned\n\
the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud;\n\
to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his\n\
large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most\n\
forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be\n\
compared with his friend.\n\
\n\
<NAME> had soon made himself acquainted with all the\n\
principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved,\n\
danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early,\n\
and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable\n\
qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between\n\
him and his friend! <NAME> danced only once with Mrs. Hurst\n\
and once with <NAME>, declined being introduced to any\n\
other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about\n\
the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His\n\
character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable\n\
man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come\n\
there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs.\n\
Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened\n\
into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her\n\
daughters.\n\
\n\
<NAME> had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen,\n\
to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time,\n\
<NAME> had been standing near enough for her to hear a\n\
conversation between him and <NAME>, who came from the\n\
dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.\n\
\n\
\"Come, Darcy,\" said he, \"I must have you dance. I hate to see\n\
you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had\n\
much better dance.\"\n\
\n\
\"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am\n\
particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as\n\
this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and\n\
there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a\n\
punishment to me to stand up with.\"\n\
\n\
\"I would not be so fastidious as you are,\" cried <NAME>,\n\
\"for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many\n\
pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are\n\
several of them you see uncommonly pretty.\"\n\
\n\
\"_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,\"\n\
said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest <NAME>.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But\n\
there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is\n\
very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my\n\
partner to introduce you.\"\n\
\n\
\"Which do you mean?\" and turning round he looked for a\n\
moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own\n\
and coldly said: \"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to\n\
tempt _me_; I am in no humour at present to give consequence\n\
to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better\n\
return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting\n\
your time with me.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and\n\
Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him.\n\
She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends;\n\
for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in\n\
anything ridiculous.\n\
\n\
The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole\n\
family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much\n\
admired by the Netherfield party. <NAME> had danced with\n\
her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane\n\
was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in\n\
a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane\'s pleasure. Mary had heard\n\
herself mentioned to <NAME> as the most accomplished\n\
girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been\n\
fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all\n\
that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned,\n\
therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they\n\
lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They\n\
found <NAME> still up. With a book he was regardless of\n\
time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of\n\
curiosity as to the events of an evening which had raised such\n\
splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife\'s\n\
views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon\n\
found out that he had a different story to hear.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! my dear <NAME>,\" as she entered the room, \"we have\n\
had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you\n\
had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it.\n\
Everybody said how well she looked; and <NAME> thought\n\
her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of\n\
_that_, my dear; he actually danced with her twice! and she was\n\
the only creature in the room that he asked a second time.\n\
First of all, he asked <NAME>. I was so vexed to see him\n\
stand up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all;\n\
indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with\n\
Jane as she was going down the dance. So he inquired who she\n\
was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then\n\
the two third he danced with <NAME>, and the two fourth with\n\
<NAME>, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two\n\
sixth with Lizzy, and the _Boulanger_--\"\n\
\n\
\"If he had had any compassion for _me_,\" cried her husband\n\
impatiently, \"he would not have danced half so much! For God\'s\n\
sake, say no more of his partners. O that he had sprained\n\
his ankle in the first place!\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so\n\
excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women.\n\
I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses.\n\
I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst\'s gown--\"\n\
\n\
Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against\n\
any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek\n\
another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness\n\
of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr.\n\
Darcy.\n\
\n\
\"But I can assure you,\" she added, \"that Lizzy does not lose\n\
much by not suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable,\n\
horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited\n\
that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked\n\
there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to\n\
dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given\n\
him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 4\n\
\n\
\n\
When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been\n\
cautious in her praise of <NAME> before, expressed to her\n\
sister just how very much she admired him.\n\
\n\
\"He is just what a young man ought to be,\" said she, \"sensible,\n\
good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!--so\n\
much ease, with such perfect good breeding!\"\n\
\n\
\"He is also handsome,\" replied Elizabeth, \"which a young man\n\
ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby\n\
complete.\"\n\
\n\
\"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second\n\
time. I did not expect such a compliment.\"\n\
\n\
\"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference\n\
between us. Compliments always take _you_ by surprise, and\n\
_me_ never. What could be more natural than his asking you\n\
again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times\n\
as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his\n\
gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I\n\
give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider\n\
person.\"\n\
\n\
\"Dear Lizzy!\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in\n\
general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are\n\
good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of\n\
a human being in your life.\"\n\
\n\
\"I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always\n\
speak what I think.\"\n\
\n\
\"I know you do; and it is _that_ which makes the wonder. With _your_\n\
good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense\n\
of others! Affectation of candour is common enough--one meets\n\
with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or\n\
design--to take the good of everybody\'s character and make it\n\
still better, and say nothing of the bad--belongs to you alone.\n\
And so you like this man\'s sisters, too, do you? Their manners\n\
are not equal to his.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly not--at first. But they are very pleasing women when\n\
you converse with them. <NAME> is to live with her\n\
brother, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall\n\
not find a very charming neighbour in her.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; their\n\
behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in\n\
general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy\n\
of temper than her sister, and with a judgement too unassailed by\n\
any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve\n\
them. They were in fact very fine ladies; not deficient in good\n\
humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making\n\
themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and\n\
conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in\n\
one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of\n\
twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more\n\
than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and\n\
were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of\n\
themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable\n\
family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply\n\
impressed on their memories than that their brother\'s fortune\n\
and their own had been acquired by trade.\n\
\n\
Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a\n\
hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to\n\
purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley\n\
intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county;\n\
but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of\n\
a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the\n\
easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the\n\
remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next\n\
generation to purchase.\n\
\n\
His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but,\n\
though he was now only established as a tenant, <NAME>\n\
was by no means unwilling to preside at his table--nor was Mrs.\n\
Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less\n\
disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her.\n\
Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted\n\
by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House.\n\
He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour--was pleased with\n\
the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the\n\
owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.\n\
\n\
Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in\n\
spite of great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to\n\
Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper,\n\
though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own,\n\
and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the\n\
strength of Darcy\'s regard, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and\n\
of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy\n\
was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy\n\
was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and\n\
fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting.\n\
In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was\n\
sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually\n\
giving offense.\n\
\n\
The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was\n\
sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with more\n\
pleasant people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been\n\
most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no\n\
stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as\n\
to <NAME>, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful.\n\
Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom\n\
there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had\n\
felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention\n\
or pleasure. <NAME> he acknowledged to be pretty, but she\n\
smiled too much.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so--but still they\n\
admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet\n\
girl, and one whom they would not object to know more of.\n\
<NAME> was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their\n\
brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as\n\
he chose.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 5\n\
\n\
\n\
Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom\n\
the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir <NAME>\n\
had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a\n\
tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an\n\
address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had\n\
perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust\n\
to his business, and to his residence in a small market town;\n\
and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family\n\
to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that\n\
period <NAME>, where he could think with pleasure of his\n\
own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself\n\
solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his\n\
rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was\n\
all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and\n\
obliging, his presentation at St. James\'s had made him courteous.\n\
\n\
<NAME> was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to\n\
be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several\n\
children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young\n\
woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth\'s intimate friend.\n\
\n\
That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to\n\
talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after\n\
the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to\n\
communicate.\n\
\n\
\"_You_ began the evening well, Charlotte,\" said Mrs. Bennet with\n\
civil self-command to <NAME>. \"_You_ were <NAME>\'s\n\
first choice.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her\n\
twice. To be sure that _did_ seem as if he admired her--indeed\n\
I rather believe he _did_--I heard something about it--but I\n\
hardly know what--something about <NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson;\n\
did not I mention it to you? <NAME>\'s asking him how he\n\
liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there\n\
were a great many pretty women in the room, and _which_ he thought\n\
the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last\n\
question: \'Oh! the eldest <NAME>, beyond a doubt; there\n\
cannot be two opinions on that point.\'\"\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed--that does\n\
seem as if--but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.\"\n\
\n\
\"_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_, Eliza,\"\n\
said Charlotte. \"Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to\n\
as his friend, is he?--poor Eliza!--to be only just _tolerable_.\"\n\
\n\
\"I beg you would not put it into Lizzy\'s head to be vexed by\n\
his ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it\n\
would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long\n\
told me last night that he sat close to her for half-an-hour\n\
without once opening his lips.\"\n\
\n\
\"Are you quite sure, ma\'am?--is not there a little mistake?\"\n\
said Jane. \"I certainly saw <NAME> speaking to her.\"\n\
\n\
\"Aye--because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield,\n\
and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed\n\
quite angry at being spoke to.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME> told me,\" said Jane, \"that he never speaks much,\n\
unless among his intimate acquaintances. With _them_ he is\n\
remarkably agreeable.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very\n\
agreeable, he would have talked to <NAME>. But I can guess\n\
how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I\n\
dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep\n\
a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,\" said <NAME>,\n\
\"but I wish he had danced with Eliza.\"\n\
\n\
\"Another time, Lizzy,\" said her mother, \"I would not dance\n\
with _him_, if I were you.\"\n\
\n\
\"I believe, ma\'am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance\n\
with him.\"\n\
\n\
\"His pride,\" said <NAME>, \"does not offend _me_ so much as\n\
pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot\n\
wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune,\n\
everything in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I\n\
may so express it, he has a _right_ to be proud.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is very true,\" replied Elizabeth, \"and I could easily\n\
forgive _his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Pride,\" observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity\n\
of her reflections, \"is a very common failing, I believe. By\n\
all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common\n\
indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and\n\
that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of\n\
self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real\n\
or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though\n\
the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud\n\
without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of\n\
ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.\"\n\
\n\
\"If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,\" cried a young Lucas, who\n\
came with his sisters, \"I should not care how proud I was. I\n\
would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a\n\
day.\"\n\
\n\
\"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,\" said\n\
Mrs. Bennet; \"and if I were to see you at it, I should take away\n\
your bottle directly.\"\n\
\n\
The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare\n\
that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 6\n\
\n\
\n\
The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield.\n\
The visit was soon returned in due form. <NAME>\'s\n\
pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss\n\
Bingley; and though the mother was found to be intolerable,\n\
and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of\n\
being better acquainted with _them_ was expressed towards\n\
the two eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the\n\
greatest pleasure, but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in\n\
their treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister,\n\
and could not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it\n\
was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence\n\
of their brother\'s admiration. It was generally evident\n\
whenever they met, that he _did_ admire her and to _her_ it was\n\
equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which\n\
she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a\n\
way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure\n\
that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general,\n\
since Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure\n\
of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would\n\
guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She\n\
mentioned this to her friend <NAME>.\n\
\n\
\"It may perhaps be pleasant,\" replied Charlotte, \"to be able to\n\
impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a\n\
disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her\n\
affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose\n\
the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor\n\
consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is\n\
so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that\n\
it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all _begin_ freely--a\n\
slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us\n\
who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.\n\
In nine cases out of ten a women had better show _more_ affection\n\
than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he\n\
may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.\"\n\
\n\
\"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow.\n\
If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton,\n\
indeed, not to discover it too.\"\n\
\n\
\"Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane\'s disposition as\n\
you do.\"\n\
\n\
\"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to\n\
conceal it, he must find it out.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though\n\
Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many\n\
hours together; and, as they always see each other in large\n\
mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be\n\
employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make\n\
the most of every half-hour in which she can command his\n\
attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure\n\
for falling in love as much as she chooses.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your plan is a good one,\" replied Elizabeth, \"where nothing is\n\
in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were\n\
determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I\n\
should adopt it. But these are not Jane\'s feelings; she is not\n\
acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the\n\
degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has\n\
known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him\n\
at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and\n\
has since dined with him in company four times. This is not\n\
quite enough to make her understand his character.\"\n\
\n\
\"Not as you represent it. Had she merely _dined_ with him, she\n\
might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but\n\
you must remember that four evenings have also been spent\n\
together--and four evenings may do a great deal.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that\n\
they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect\n\
to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much\n\
has been unfolded.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well,\" said Charlotte, \"I wish Jane success with all my heart;\n\
and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she\n\
had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying\n\
his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is\n\
entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties\n\
are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand,\n\
it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always\n\
continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their\n\
share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible\n\
of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.\"\n\
\n\
\"You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know\n\
it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way\n\
yourself.\"\n\
\n\
Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley\'s attentions to her sister,\n\
Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming\n\
an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy\n\
had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at\n\
her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he\n\
looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it\n\
clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature\n\
in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly\n\
intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this\n\
discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he\n\
had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect\n\
symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure\n\
to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her\n\
manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught\n\
by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware;\n\
to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere,\n\
and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.\n\
\n\
He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards\n\
conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with\n\
others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William\n\
Lucas\'s, where a large party were assembled.\n\
\n\
\"What does <NAME> mean,\" said she to Charlotte, \"by\n\
listening to my conversation with <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
\"That is a question which <NAME> only can answer.\"\n\
\n\
\"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I\n\
see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not\n\
begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of\n\
him.\"\n\
\n\
On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without\n\
seeming to have any intention of speaking, <NAME> defied\n\
her friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately\n\
provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said:\n\
\n\
\"Did you not think, <NAME>, that I expressed myself\n\
uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing <NAME>\n\
to give us a ball at Meryton?\"\n\
\n\
\"With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady\n\
energetic.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are severe on us.\"\n\
\n\
\"It will be _her_ turn soon to be teased,\" said <NAME>. \"I\n\
am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what\n\
follows.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!--always\n\
wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody!\n\
If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been\n\
invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down\n\
before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best\n\
performers.\" On Miss Lucas\'s persevering, however, she added,\n\
\"Very well, if it must be so, it must.\" And gravely glancing at\n\
Mr. Darcy, \"There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of\n\
course familiar with: \'Keep your breath to cool your porridge\';\n\
and I shall keep mine to swell my song.\"\n\
\n\
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital.\n\
After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties\n\
of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded\n\
at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence\n\
of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for\n\
knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for\n\
display.\n\
\n\
Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given\n\
her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and\n\
conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of\n\
excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected,\n\
had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not\n\
playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto,\n\
was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish\n\
airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the\n\
Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at\n\
one end of the room.\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode\n\
of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and\n\
was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir\n\
<NAME> was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:\n\
\n\
\"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy!\n\
There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one\n\
of the first refinements of polished society.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue\n\
amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage\n\
can dance.\"\n\
\n\
Sir William only smiled. \"Your friend performs delightfully,\" he\n\
continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; \"and I\n\
doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr.\n\
Darcy.\"\n\
\n\
\"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the\n\
sight. Do you often dance at St. James\'s?\"\n\
\n\
\"Never, sir.\"\n\
\n\
\"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the\n\
place?\"\n\
\n\
\"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can\n\
avoid it.\"\n\
\n\
\"You have a house in town, I conclude?\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy bowed.\n\
\n\
\"I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself--for I am\n\
fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the\n\
air of London would agree with <NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not\n\
disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving\n\
towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very\n\
gallant thing, and called out to her:\n\
\n\
\"My dear <NAME>, why are you not dancing? <NAME>, you\n\
must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very\n\
desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when\n\
so much beauty is before you.\" And, taking her hand, he would\n\
have given it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely surprised,\n\
was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back,\n\
and said with some discomposure to Sir William:\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat\n\
you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a\n\
partner.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the\n\
honour of her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor\n\
did <NAME> at all shake her purpose by his attempt at\n\
persuasion.\n\
\n\
\"You excel so much in the dance, <NAME>, that it is cruel to\n\
deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman\n\
dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I\n\
am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy is all politeness,\" said Elizabeth, smiling.\n\
\n\
\"He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss\n\
Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance--for who would\n\
object to such a partner?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had\n\
not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her\n\
with some complacency, when thus accosted by <NAME>:\n\
\n\
\"I can guess the subject of your reverie.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should imagine not.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many\n\
evenings in this manner--in such society; and indeed I am quite\n\
of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and\n\
yet the noise--the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all\n\
those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!\"\n\
\n\
\"You conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was\n\
more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very\n\
great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty\n\
woman can bestow.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired\n\
he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such\n\
reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity:\n\
\n\
\"Miss <NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
\"Miss <NAME>!\" repeated <NAME>. \"I am all\n\
astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?--and\n\
pray, when am I to wish you joy?\"\n\
\n\
\"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A\n\
lady\'s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to\n\
love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would\n\
be wishing me joy.\"\n\
\n\
\"Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is\n\
absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law,\n\
indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.\"\n\
\n\
He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to\n\
entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced\n\
her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 7\n\
\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet\'s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of\n\
two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was\n\
entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their\n\
mother\'s fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could\n\
but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an\n\
attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.\n\
\n\
She had a sister married to a <NAME>, who had been a clerk\n\
to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother\n\
settled in London in a respectable line of trade.\n\
\n\
The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a\n\
most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually\n\
tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to\n\
their aunt and to a milliner\'s shop just over the way. The two\n\
youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly\n\
frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than\n\
their sisters\', and when nothing better offered, a walk to\n\
Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and\n\
furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news\n\
the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn\n\
some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well\n\
supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of\n\
a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the\n\
whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.\n\
\n\
Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most\n\
interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their\n\
knowledge of the officers\' names and connections. Their\n\
lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to\n\
know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and\n\
this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before.\n\
They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley\'s large\n\
fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother,\n\
was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of\n\
an ensign.\n\
\n\
After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr.\n\
Bennet coolly observed:\n\
\n\
\"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must\n\
be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it\n\
some time, but I am now convinced.\"\n\
\n\
Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia,\n\
with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of\n\
<NAME>, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the\n\
day, as he was going the next morning to London.\n\
\n\
\"I am astonished, my dear,\" said Mrs. Bennet, \"that you should\n\
be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think\n\
slightingly of anybody\'s children, it should not be of my own,\n\
however.\"\n\
\n\
\"If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes--but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.\"\n\
\n\
\"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not\n\
agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every\n\
particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two\n\
youngest daughters uncommonly foolish.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have\n\
the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I\n\
dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do.\n\
I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well--and,\n\
indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel,\n\
with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls I\n\
shall not say nay to him; and I thought <NAME> looked\n\
very becoming the other night at Sir William\'s in his regimentals.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mamma,\" cried Lydia, \"my aunt says that <NAME> and\n\
<NAME> do not go so often to <NAME>\'s as they did\n\
when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in\n\
Clarke\'s library.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the\n\
footman with a note for <NAME>; it came from Netherfield,\n\
and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet\'s eyes\n\
sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while\n\
her daughter read,\n\
\n\
\"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he\n\
say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is from <NAME>,\" said Jane, and then read it aloud.\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAR FRIEND,--\n\
\n\
\"If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa\n\
and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest\n\
of our lives, for a whole day\'s tete-a-tete between two women\n\
can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on\n\
receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with\n\
the officers.--Yours ever,\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>\"\n\
\n\
\"With the officers!\" cried Lydia. \"I wonder my aunt did not tell\n\
us of _that_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Dining out,\" said Mrs. Bennet, \"that is very unlucky.\"\n\
\n\
\"Can I have the carriage?\" said Jane.\n\
\n\
\"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems\n\
likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.\"\n\
\n\
\"That would be a good scheme,\" said Elizabeth, \"if you were\n\
sure that they would not offer to send her home.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley\'s chaise to go to\n\
Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.\"\n\
\n\
\"I had much rather go in the coach.\"\n\
\n\
\"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure.\n\
They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?\"\n\
\n\
\"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.\"\n\
\n\
\"But if you have got them to-day,\" said Elizabeth, \"my mother\'s\n\
purpose will be answered.\"\n\
\n\
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that\n\
the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on\n\
horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many\n\
cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered;\n\
Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters\n\
were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain\n\
continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly\n\
could not come back.\n\
\n\
\"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!\" said Mrs. Bennet more\n\
than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till\n\
the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity\n\
of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant\n\
from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAREST LIZZY,--\n\
\n\
\"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to\n\
be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends\n\
will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also\n\
on my seeing <NAME>--therefore do not be alarmed if you should\n\
hear of his having been to me--and, excepting a sore throat and\n\
headache, there is not much the matter with me.--Yours, etc.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well, my dear,\" said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the\n\
note aloud, \"if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of\n\
illness--if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it\n\
was all in pursuit of <NAME>, and under your orders.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little\n\
trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she\n\
stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could\n\
have the carriage.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her,\n\
though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no\n\
horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her\n\
resolution.\n\
\n\
\"How can you be so silly,\" cried her mother, \"as to think of such\n\
a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you\n\
get there.\"\n\
\n\
\"I shall be very fit to see Jane--which is all I want.\"\n\
\n\
\"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,\" said her father, \"to send for\n\
the horses?\"\n\
\n\
\"No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is\n\
nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back\n\
by dinner.\"\n\
\n\
\"I admire the activity of your benevolence,\" observed Mary, \"but\n\
every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my\n\
opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is\n\
required.\"\n\
\n\
\"We will go as far as Meryton with you,\" said Catherine and\n\
Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young\n\
ladies set off together.\n\
\n\
\"If we make haste,\" said Lydia, as they walked along, \"perhaps\n\
we may see something of <NAME> before he goes.\"\n\
\n\
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of\n\
one of the officers\' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone,\n\
crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles\n\
and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding\n\
herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty\n\
stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.\n\
\n\
She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane\n\
were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal\n\
of surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early\n\
in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost\n\
incredible to <NAME> and <NAME>; and Elizabeth was\n\
convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was\n\
received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother\'s\n\
manners there was something better than politeness; there was\n\
good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr.\n\
Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration\n\
of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion,\n\
and doubt as to the occasion\'s justifying her coming so far\n\
alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.\n\
\n\
Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered.\n\
<NAME> had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and\n\
not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be\n\
taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld\n\
by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in\n\
her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at\n\
her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation,\n\
and when <NAME> left them together, could attempt little\n\
besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness\n\
she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.\n\
\n\
When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; and\n\
Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much\n\
affection and solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary\n\
came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be\n\
supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must\n\
endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed,\n\
and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed\n\
readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached\n\
acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor were\n\
the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had,\n\
in fact, nothing to do elsewhere.\n\
\n\
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and\n\
very unwillingly said so. <NAME> offered her the carriage,\n\
and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane\n\
testified such concern in parting with her, that <NAME> was\n\
obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to\n\
remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully\n\
consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to\n\
acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of\n\
clothes.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 8\n\
\n\
\n\
At five o\'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past\n\
six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries\n\
which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure\n\
of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of <NAME>\'s,\n\
she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no\n\
means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four\n\
times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have\n\
a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill\n\
themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their\n\
indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them\n\
restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her former dislike.\n\
\n\
Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she\n\
could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was\n\
evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and\n\
they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she\n\
believed she was considered by the others. She had very little\n\
notice from any but him. <NAME> was engrossed by Mr.\n\
Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for <NAME>, by\n\
whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to\n\
eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found her to prefer\n\
a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.\n\
\n\
When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss\n\
Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room.\n\
Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture\n\
of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no\n\
beauty. <NAME> thought the same, and added:\n\
\n\
\"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an\n\
excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this\n\
morning. She really looked almost wild.\"\n\
\n\
\"She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance.\n\
Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must _she_ be scampering\n\
about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so\n\
untidy, so blowsy!\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches\n\
deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had\n\
been let down to hide it not doing its office.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,\" said Bingley; \"but\n\
this was all lost upon me. I thought <NAME>\n\
looked remarkably well when she came into the room this\n\
morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice.\"\n\
\n\
\"_You_ observed it, <NAME>, I am sure,\" said <NAME>;\n\
\"and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see\n\
_your_ sister make such an exhibition.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly not.\"\n\
\n\
\"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it\n\
is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could\n\
she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of\n\
conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to\n\
decorum.\"\n\
\n\
\"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,\" said\n\
Bingley.\n\
\n\
\"I am afraid, <NAME>,\" observed <NAME>y in a half\n\
whisper, \"that this adventure has rather affected your\n\
admiration of her fine eyes.\"\n\
\n\
\"Not at all,\" he replied; \"they were brightened by the exercise.\"\n\
A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again:\n\
\n\
\"I have a excessive regard for <NAME>, she is really\n\
a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well\n\
settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low\n\
connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.\"\n\
\n\
\"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney on\n\
Meryton.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is capital,\" added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.\n\
\n\
\"If they had uncles enough to fill _all_ Cheapside,\" cried\n\
Bingley, \"it would not make them one jot less agreeable.\"\n\
\n\
\"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men\n\
of any consideration in the world,\" replied Darcy.\n\
\n\
To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it\n\
their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the\n\
expense of their dear friend\'s vulgar relations.\n\
\n\
With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her\n\
room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till\n\
summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth\n\
would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had\n\
the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it seemed to her rather\n\
right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself. On\n\
entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and\n\
was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be\n\
playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse,\n\
said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay\n\
below, with a book. <NAME> looked at her with astonishment.\n\
\n\
\"Do you prefer reading to cards?\" said he; \"that is rather\n\
singular.\"\n\
\n\
\"Miss <NAME>,\" said <NAME>, \"despises cards. She is\n\
a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.\"\n\
\n\
\"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,\" cried Elizabeth;\n\
\"I am _not_ a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.\"\n\
\n\
\"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,\" said Bingley;\n\
\"and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards\n\
the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered\n\
to fetch her others--all that his library afforded.\n\
\n\
\"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my\n\
own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many,\n\
I have more than I ever looked into.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with\n\
those in the room.\n\
\n\
\"I am astonished,\" said <NAME>, \"that my father should\n\
have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library\n\
you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!\"\n\
\n\
\"It ought to be good,\" he replied, \"it has been the work of many\n\
generations.\"\n\
\n\
\"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are\n\
always buying books.\"\n\
\n\
\"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days\n\
as these.\"\n\
\n\
\"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the\n\
beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build _your_\n\
house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.\"\n\
\n\
\"I wish it may.\"\n\
\n\
\"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that\n\
neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There\n\
is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.\"\n\
\n\
\"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will\n\
sell it.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am talking of possibilities, Charles.\"\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get\n\
Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her\n\
very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly\n\
aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself\n\
between <NAME> and his eldest sister, to observe the game.\n\
\n\
\"Is <NAME> much grown since the spring?\" said Miss\n\
Bingley; \"will she be as tall as I am?\"\n\
\n\
\"I think she will. She is now about <NAME>\'s\n\
height, or rather taller.\"\n\
\n\
\"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who\n\
delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And\n\
so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the\n\
pianoforte is exquisite.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is amazing to me,\" said Bingley, \"how young ladies can have\n\
patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.\"\n\
\n\
\"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens,\n\
and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this,\n\
and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first\n\
time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,\" said Darcy,\n\
\"has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who\n\
deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering\n\
a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your\n\
estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing\n\
more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance,\n\
that are really accomplished.\"\n\
\n\
\"Nor I, I am sure,\" said <NAME>.\n\
\n\
\"Then,\" observed Elizabeth, \"you must comprehend a great deal\n\
in your idea of an accomplished woman.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! certainly,\" cried his faithful assistant, \"no one can be really\n\
esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is\n\
usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of\n\
music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to\n\
deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain\n\
something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her\n\
voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but\n\
half-deserved.\"\n\
\n\
\"All this she must possess,\" added Darcy, \"and to all this she\n\
must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of\n\
her mind by extensive reading.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am no longer surprised at your knowing _only_ six accomplished\n\
women. I rather wonder now at your knowing _any_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility\n\
of all this?\"\n\
\n\
\"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and\n\
taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Hurst and <NAME> both cried out against the injustice\n\
of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew\n\
many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst\n\
called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention\n\
to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at\n\
an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>,\" said <NAME>, when the door was\n\
closed on her, \"is one of those young ladies who seek to\n\
recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their\n\
own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my\n\
opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.\"\n\
\n\
\"Undoubtedly,\" replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly\n\
addressed, \"there is a meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies\n\
sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever\n\
bears affinity to cunning is despicable.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to\n\
continue the subject.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse,\n\
and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged <NAME> being\n\
sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country\n\
advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for\n\
one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of;\n\
but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother\'s\n\
proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for\n\
early in the morning, if <NAME> were not decidedly better.\n\
Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they\n\
were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by\n\
duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his\n\
feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every\n\
attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 9\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister\'s room, and\n\
in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable\n\
answer to the inquiries which she very early received from Mr.\n\
Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two\n\
elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this\n\
amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn,\n\
desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgement of\n\
her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its\n\
contents as quickly complied with. <NAME>, accompanied by\n\
her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family\n\
breakfast.\n\
\n\
Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, <NAME> would\n\
have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that\n\
her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering\n\
immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove\n\
her from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her\n\
daughter\'s proposal of being carried home; neither did the\n\
apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all\n\
advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss\n\
Bingley\'s appearance and invitation, the mother and three\n\
daughter all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met\n\
them with hopes that <NAME> had not found <NAME>\n\
worse than she expected.\n\
\n\
\"Indeed I have, sir,\" was her answer. \"She is a great deal too\n\
ill to be moved. <NAME> says we must not think of moving her.\n\
We must trespass a little longer on your kindness.\"\n\
\n\
\"Removed!\" cried Bingley. \"It must not be thought of. My\n\
sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.\"\n\
\n\
\"You may depend upon it, Madam,\" said <NAME>, with cold\n\
civility, \"that <NAME> will receive every possible attention\n\
while she remains with us.\"\n\
\n\
M<NAME> was profuse in her acknowledgments.\n\
\n\
\"I am sure,\" she added, \"if it was not for such good friends I do\n\
not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed,\n\
and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the\n\
world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without\n\
exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell\n\
my other girls they are nothing to _her_. You have a sweet room\n\
here, <NAME>, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk.\n\
I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield.\n\
You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you\n\
have but a short lease.\"\n\
\n\
\"Whatever I do is done in a hurry,\" replied he; \"and therefore if I\n\
should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in\n\
five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite\n\
fixed here.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,\" said\n\
Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"You begin to comprehend me, do you?\" cried he, turning\n\
towards her.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! yes--I understand you perfectly.\"\n\
\n\
\"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily\n\
seen through I am afraid is pitiful.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate\n\
character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.\"\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy,\" cried her mother, \"remember where you are, and do not\n\
run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.\"\n\
\n\
\"I did not know before,\" continued Bingley immediately, \"that\n\
you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They\n\
have at least that advantage.\"\n\
\n\
\"The country,\" said Darcy, \"can in general supply but a few\n\
subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move\n\
in a very confined and unvarying society.\"\n\
\n\
\"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something\n\
new to be observed in them for ever.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, indeed,\" cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of\n\
mentioning a country neighbourhood. \"I assure you there is\n\
quite as much of _that_ going on in the country as in town.\"\n\
\n\
Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a\n\
moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she\n\
had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.\n\
\n\
\"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the\n\
country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The\n\
country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
\"When I am in the country,\" he replied, \"I never wish to leave it;\n\
and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have\n\
each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.\"\n\
\n\
\"Aye--that is because you have the right disposition. But that\n\
gentleman,\" looking at Darcy, \"seemed to think the country was\n\
nothing at all.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken,\" said Elizabeth, blushing for\n\
her mother. \"You quite mistook <NAME>. He only meant that\n\
there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the\n\
country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be\n\
true.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not\n\
meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe\n\
there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with\n\
four-and-twenty families.\"\n\
\n\
Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep\n\
his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her\n\
eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth,\n\
for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother\'s\n\
thoughts, now asked her if <NAME> had been at\n\
Longbourn since _her_ coming away.\n\
\n\
\"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable\n\
man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of\n\
fashion! So genteel and easy! He had always something to say\n\
to everybody. _That_ is my idea of good breeding; and those\n\
persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open\n\
their mouths, quite mistake the matter.\"\n\
\n\
\"Did Charlotte dine with you?\"\n\
\n\
\"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the\n\
mince-pies. For my part, <NAME>, I always keep servants\n\
that can do their own work; _my_ daughters are brought up very\n\
differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the\n\
Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity\n\
they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so _very_\n\
plain--but then she is our particular friend.\"\n\
\n\
\"She seems a very pleasant young woman.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. <NAME>\n\
herself has often said so, and envied me Jane\'s beauty. I do not\n\
like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane--one does\n\
not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says.\n\
I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen,\n\
there was a man at my brother Gardiner\'s in town so much in\n\
love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her\n\
an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not.\n\
Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some\n\
verses on her, and very pretty they were.\"\n\
\n\
\"And so ended his affection,\" said Elizabeth impatiently. \"There\n\
has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I\n\
wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving\n\
away love!\"\n\
\n\
\"I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love,\" said\n\
Darcy.\n\
\n\
\"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes\n\
what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of\n\
inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it\n\
entirely away.\"\n\
\n\
Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made\n\
Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself\n\
again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say;\n\
and after a short silence <NAME> began repeating her thanks\n\
to <NAME> for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for\n\
troubling him also with Lizzy. <NAME> was unaffectedly\n\
civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil\n\
also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her\n\
part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was\n\
satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this\n\
signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The\n\
two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole\n\
visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax\n\
Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the\n\
country to give a ball at Netherfield.\n\
\n\
Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine\n\
complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her\n\
mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early\n\
age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural\n\
self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom\n\
her uncle\'s good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended\n\
her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal,\n\
therefore, to address <NAME> on the subject of the ball, and\n\
abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be\n\
the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His\n\
answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother\'s ear:\n\
\n\
\"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and\n\
when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the\n\
very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing\n\
when she is ill.\"\n\
\n\
Lydia declared herself satisfied. \"Oh! yes--it would be much\n\
better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely\n\
<NAME> would be at Meryton again. And when you have\n\
given _your_ ball,\" she added, \"I shall insist on their giving one\n\
also. I shall tell <NAME> it will be quite a shame if he\n\
does not.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth\n\
returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations\'\n\
behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the\n\
latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in\n\
their censure of _her_, in spite of all <NAME>\'s witticisms on\n\
_fine eyes_.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 10\n\
\n\
\n\
The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst\n\
and <NAME> had spent some hours of the morning with the\n\
invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the\n\
evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The\n\
loo-table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and\n\
<NAME>, seated near him, was watching the progress of his\n\
letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to\n\
his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs.\n\
Hurst was observing their game.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently\n\
amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his\n\
companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on\n\
his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length\n\
of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises\n\
were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in\n\
union with her opinion of each.\n\
\n\
\"How delighted <NAME> will be to receive such a letter!\"\n\
\n\
He made no answer.\n\
\n\
\"You write uncommonly fast.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.\"\n\
\n\
\"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the\n\
course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should\n\
think them!\"\n\
\n\
\"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.\"\n\
\n\
\"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.\"\n\
\n\
\"I have already told her so once, by your desire.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you.\n\
I mend pens remarkably well.\"\n\
\n\
\"Thank you--but I always mend my own.\"\n\
\n\
\"How can you contrive to write so even?\"\n\
\n\
He was silent.\n\
\n\
\"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on\n\
the harp; and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with\n\
her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely\n\
superior to <NAME>\'s.\"\n\
\n\
\"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again?\n\
At present I have not room to do them justice.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do\n\
you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?\"\n\
\n\
\"They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not\n\
for me to determine.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter\n\
with ease, cannot write ill.\"\n\
\n\
\"That will not do for a compliment to <NAME>,\" cried\n\
her brother, \"because he does _not_ write with ease. He studies\n\
too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?\"\n\
\n\
\"My style of writing is very different from yours.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh!\" cried <NAME>, \"Charles writes in the most careless\n\
way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the\n\
rest.\"\n\
\n\
\"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express\n\
them--by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas\n\
at all to my correspondents.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your humility, <NAME>,\" said Elizabeth, \"must disarm\n\
reproof.\"\n\
\n\
\"Nothing is more deceitful,\" said Darcy, \"than the appearance of\n\
humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes\n\
an indirect boast.\"\n\
\n\
\"And which of the two do you call _my_ little recent piece of\n\
modesty?\"\n\
\n\
\"The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in\n\
writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a\n\
rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not\n\
estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of\n\
doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the\n\
possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of\n\
the performance. When you told <NAME> this morning that\n\
if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be\n\
gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of\n\
compliment to yourself--and yet what is there so very laudable\n\
in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business\n\
undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone\n\
else?\"\n\
\n\
\"Nay,\" cried Bingley, \"this is too much, to remember at night all\n\
the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon\n\
my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I\n\
believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume\n\
the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before\n\
the ladies.\"\n\
\n\
\"I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that\n\
you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be\n\
quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if,\n\
as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, \'Bingley,\n\
you had better stay till next week,\' you would probably do it,\n\
you would probably not go--and at another word, might stay a\n\
month.\"\n\
\n\
\"You have only proved by this,\" cried Elizabeth, \"that Mr.\n\
Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have\n\
shown him off now much more than he did himself.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am exceedingly gratified,\" said Bingley, \"by your converting\n\
what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my\n\
temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that\n\
gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think\n\
better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat\n\
denial, and ride off as fast as I could.\"\n\
\n\
\"Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original\n\
intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?\"\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must\n\
speak for himself.\"\n\
\n\
\"You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to\n\
call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the\n\
case, however, to stand according to your representation, you\n\
must remember, <NAME>, that the friend who is supposed to\n\
desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has\n\
merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in\n\
favour of its propriety.\"\n\
\n\
\"To yield readily--easily--to the _persuasion_ of a friend is\n\
no merit with you.\"\n\
\n\
\"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding\n\
of either.\"\n\
\n\
\"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the\n\
influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester\n\
would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting\n\
for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly\n\
speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr.\n\
Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance\n\
occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour\n\
thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and\n\
friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a\n\
resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that\n\
person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be\n\
argued into it?\"\n\
\n\
\"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to\n\
arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance\n\
which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of\n\
intimacy subsisting between the parties?\"\n\
\n\
\"By all means,\" cried Bingley; \"let us hear all the particulars,\n\
not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will\n\
have more weight in the argument, <NAME>, than you may be\n\
aware of. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall\n\
fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so\n\
much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object\n\
than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at\n\
his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has\n\
nothing to do.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that\n\
he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss\n\
Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an\n\
expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.\n\
\n\
\"I see your design, Bingley,\" said his friend. \"You dislike an\n\
argument, and want to silence this.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and\n\
<NAME> will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall\n\
be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.\"\n\
\n\
\"What you ask,\" said Elizabeth, \"is no sacrifice on my side; and\n\
<NAME> had much better finish his letter.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> took her advice, and did finish his letter.\n\
\n\
When that business was over, he applied to <NAME> and\n\
Elizabeth for an indulgence of some music. <NAME> moved\n\
with some alacrity to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request\n\
that Elizabeth would lead the way which the other as politely\n\
and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.\n\
\n\
<NAME> sang with her sister, and while they were thus\n\
employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned\n\
over some music-books that lay on the instrument, how frequently\n\
<NAME>\'s eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to\n\
suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a\n\
man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her,\n\
was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last\n\
that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong\n\
and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any\n\
other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She\n\
liked him too little to care for his approbation.\n\
\n\
After playing some Italian songs, <NAME> varied the charm\n\
by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards <NAME>, drawing\n\
near Elizabeth, said to her:\n\
\n\
\"Do not you feel a great inclination, <NAME>, to seize such\n\
an opportunity of dancing a reel?\"\n\
\n\
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with\n\
some surprise at her silence.\n\
\n\
\"Oh!\" said she, \"I heard you before, but I could not immediately\n\
determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say\n\
\'Yes,\' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste;\n\
but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes,\n\
and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have,\n\
therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to\n\
dance a reel at all--and now despise me if you dare.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed I do not dare.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at\n\
his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness\n\
in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody;\n\
and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he\n\
was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the\n\
inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.\n\
\n\
<NAME> saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her\n\
great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received\n\
some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by\n\
talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in\n\
such an alliance.\n\
\n\
\"I hope,\" said she, as they were walking together in the\n\
shrubbery the next day, \"you will give your mother-in-law a few\n\
hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage\n\
of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the\n\
younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so\n\
delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something,\n\
bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady\n\
possesses.\"\n\
\n\
\"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be\n\
placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your\n\
great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you\n\
know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth\'s picture, you\n\
must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those\n\
beautiful eyes?\"\n\
\n\
\"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their\n\
colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might\n\
be copied.\"\n\
\n\
At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst\n\
and Elizabeth herself.\n\
\n\
\"I did not know that you intended to walk,\" said <NAME>,\n\
in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.\n\
\n\
\"You used us abominably ill,\" answered Mrs. Hurst, \"running\n\
away without telling us that you were coming out.\"\n\
\n\
Then taking the disengaged arm of <NAME>, she left Elizabeth\n\
to walk by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt\n\
their rudeness, and immediately said:\n\
\n\
\"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go\n\
into the avenue.\"\n\
\n\
But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with\n\
them, laughingly answered:\n\
\n\
\"No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and\n\
appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be\n\
spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.\"\n\
\n\
She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the\n\
hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already\n\
so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of\n\
hours that evening.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 11\n\
\n\
\n\
When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her\n\
sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into\n\
the drawing-room, where she was welcomed by her two friends\n\
with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen\n\
them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed\n\
before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation\n\
were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with\n\
accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their\n\
acquaintance with spirit.\n\
\n\
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first\n\
object; <NAME>\'s eyes were instantly turned toward Darcy,\n\
and she had something to say to him before he had advanced\n\
many steps. He addressed himself to <NAME>, with a polite\n\
congratulation; <NAME> also made her a slight bow, and said\n\
he was \"very glad;\" but diffuseness and warmth remained for\n\
Bingley\'s salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first\n\
half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer\n\
from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the\n\
other side of the fireplace, that she might be further from the\n\
door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone\n\
else. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with\n\
great delight.\n\
\n\
When tea was over, <NAME> reminded his sister-in-law of the\n\
card-table--but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence\n\
that <NAME> did not wish for cards; and <NAME> soon found\n\
even his open petition rejected. She assured him that no one\n\
intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the\n\
subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had therefore nothing\n\
to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to\n\
sleep. Darcy took up a book; <NAME> did the same; and\n\
Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets\n\
and rings, joined now and then in her brother\'s conversation\n\
with <NAME>.\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s attention was quite as much engaged in watching\n\
Mr. Darcy\'s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own;\n\
and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking\n\
at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation;\n\
he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, quite\n\
exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which\n\
she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his,\n\
she gave a great yawn and said, \"How pleasant it is to spend an\n\
evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment\n\
like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a\n\
book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if\n\
I have not an excellent library.\"\n\
\n\
No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her\n\
book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest for some\n\
amusement; when hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss\n\
Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said:\n\
\n\
\"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance\n\
at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it,\n\
to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if\n\
there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a\n\
punishment than a pleasure.\"\n\
\n\
\"If you mean Darcy,\" cried her brother, \"he may go to bed, if he\n\
chooses, before it begins--but as for the ball, it is quite a settled\n\
thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I\n\
shall send round my cards.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should like balls infinitely better,\" she replied, \"if they\n\
were carried on in a different manner; but there is something\n\
insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It\n\
would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of\n\
dancing were made the order of the day.\"\n\
\n\
\"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would\n\
not be near so much like a ball.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> made no answer, and soon afterwards she got up\n\
and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she\n\
walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still\n\
inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings, she\n\
resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Elizabeth, said:\n\
\n\
\"Miss <NAME>, let me persuade you to follow my example,\n\
and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very\n\
refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss\n\
Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility;\n\
Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of\n\
attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and\n\
unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join\n\
their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine\n\
but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the\n\
room together, with either of which motives his joining them\n\
would interfere. \"What could he mean? She was dying to know\n\
what could be his meaning?\"--and asked Elizabeth whether she\n\
could at all understand him?\n\
\n\
\"Not at all,\" was her answer; \"but depend upon it, he means to\n\
be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be\n\
to ask nothing about it.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME>, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr.\n\
Darcy in anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an\n\
explanation of his two motives.\n\
\n\
\"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,\" said he,\n\
as soon as she allowed him to speak. \"You either choose this\n\
method of passing the evening because you are in each other\'s\n\
confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are\n\
conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in\n\
walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if\n\
the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! shocking!\" cried <NAME>. \"I never heard anything so\n\
abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?\"\n\
\n\
\"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,\" said Elizabeth.\n\
\"We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him--laugh\n\
at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be\n\
done.\"\n\
\n\
\"But upon my honour, I do _not_. I do assure you that my\n\
intimacy has not yet taught me _that_. Tease calmness of\n\
manner and presence of mind! No, no--feel he may defy us\n\
there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you\n\
please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may\n\
hug himself.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!\" cried Elizabeth. \"That is\n\
an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for\n\
it would be a great loss to _me_ to have many such acquaintances.\n\
I dearly love a laugh.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>,\" said he, \"has given me more credit than can be.\n\
The wisest and the best of men--nay, the wisest and best of their\n\
actions--may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first\n\
object in life is a joke.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly,\" replied Elizabeth--\"there are such people, but I\n\
hope I am not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is\n\
wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and\n\
inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own, and I laugh at them\n\
whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you\n\
are without.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the\n\
study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a\n\
strong understanding to ridicule.\"\n\
\n\
\"Such as vanity and pride.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride--where there is a\n\
real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good\n\
regulation.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.\n\
\n\
\"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,\" said Miss\n\
Bingley; \"and pray what is the result?\"\n\
\n\
\"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect.\n\
He owns it himself without disguise.\"\n\
\n\
\"No,\" said Darcy, \"I have made no such pretension. I have\n\
faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding.\n\
My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little\n\
yielding--certainly too little for the convenience of the world.\n\
I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought,\n\
nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed\n\
about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be\n\
called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.\"\n\
\n\
\"_That_ is a failing indeed!\" cried Elizabeth. \"Implacable\n\
resentment _is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen your\n\
fault well. I really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me.\"\n\
\n\
\"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some\n\
particular evil--a natural defect, which not even the best\n\
education can overcome.\"\n\
\n\
\"And _your_ defect is to hate everybody.\"\n\
\n\
\"And yours,\" he replied with a smile, \"is willfully to\n\
misunderstand them.\"\n\
\n\
\"Do let us have a little music,\" cried <NAME>, tired of a\n\
conversation in which she had no share. \"Louisa, you will not\n\
mind my waking <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was\n\
opened; and Darcy, after a few moments\' recollection, was not\n\
sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too\n\
much attention.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 12\n\
\n\
\n\
In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth\n\
wrote the next morning to their mother, to beg that the carriage\n\
might be sent for them in the course of the day. But Mrs.\n\
Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at\n\
Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly\n\
finish Jane\'s week, could not bring herself to receive them with\n\
pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at\n\
least not to Elizabeth\'s wishes, for she was impatient to get\n\
home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly\n\
have the carriage before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was\n\
added, that if <NAME> and his sister pressed them to stay\n\
longer, she could spare them very well. Against staying longer,\n\
however, Elizabeth was positively resolved--nor did she much\n\
expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the contrary, as being\n\
considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, she urged\n\
Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley\'s carriage immediately, and at\n\
length it was settled that their original design of leaving\n\
Netherfield that morning should be mentioned, and the request\n\
made.\n\
\n\
The communication excited many professions of concern; and\n\
enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the\n\
following day to work on Jane; and till the morrow their going\n\
was deferred. <NAME> was then sorry that she had\n\
proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister\n\
much exceeded her affection for the other.\n\
\n\
The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were\n\
to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade <NAME> that\n\
it would not be safe for her--that she was not enough recovered;\n\
but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right.\n\
\n\
To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence--Elizabeth had been\n\
at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he\n\
liked--and <NAME> was uncivil to _her_, and more teasing\n\
than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly\n\
careful that no sign of admiration should _now_ escape him,\n\
nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his\n\
felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested,\n\
his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in\n\
confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely\n\
spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and\n\
though they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour,\n\
he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not\n\
even look at her.\n\
\n\
On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable\n\
to almost all, took place. <NAME>\'s civility to Elizabeth\n\
increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane;\n\
and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure\n\
it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or\n\
Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook\n\
hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of the whole party\n\
in the liveliest of spirits.\n\
\n\
They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother.\n\
Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very\n\
wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have\n\
caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his\n\
expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt\n\
their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation,\n\
when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation,\n\
and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough-bass\n\
and human nature; and had some extracts to admire, and some\n\
new observations of threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine\n\
and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much\n\
had been done and much had been said in the regiment since the\n\
preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined lately\n\
with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually\n\
been hinted that <NAME> was going to be married.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 13\n\
\n\
\n\
\"I hope, my dear,\" said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were\n\
at breakfast the next morning, \"that you have ordered a good\n\
dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to\n\
our family party.\"\n\
\n\
\"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming,\n\
I am sure, unless <NAME> should happen to call in--and\n\
I hope _my_ dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe\n\
she often sees such at home.\"\n\
\n\
\"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet\'s eyes sparkled. \"A gentleman and a stranger! It is\n\
<NAME>, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad\n\
to see <NAME>. But--good Lord! how unlucky! There is not\n\
a bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell--I\n\
must speak to Hill this moment.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is _not_ <NAME>,\" said her husband; \"it is a person whom\n\
I never saw in the whole course of my life.\"\n\
\n\
This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of\n\
being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at\n\
once.\n\
\n\
After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus\n\
explained:\n\
\n\
\"About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight\n\
ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and\n\
requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who,\n\
when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he\n\
pleases.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! my dear,\" cried his wife, \"I cannot bear to hear that\n\
mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is\n\
the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed\n\
away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I\n\
should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.\"\n\
\n\
Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail.\n\
They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject\n\
on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she\n\
continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an\n\
estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man\n\
whom nobody cared anything about.\n\
\n\
\"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,\" said Mr. Bennet,\n\
\"and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting\n\
Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps\n\
be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent\n\
of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such\n\
false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as\n\
his father did before him?\"\n\
\n\
\"Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on\n\
that head, as you will hear.\"\n\
\n\
\"Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,\n\
15th October.\n\
\n\
\"Dear Sir,--\n\
\n\
\"The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late\n\
honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I\n\
have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished\n\
to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own\n\
doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory\n\
for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always\n\
pleased him to be at variance.--\'There, M<NAME>.\'--My\n\
mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having\n\
received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to\n\
be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady\n\
<NAME>, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose\n\
bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory\n\
of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean\n\
myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever\n\
ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted\n\
by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it\n\
my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all\n\
families within the reach of my influence; and on these\n\
grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly\n\
commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the\n\
entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your\n\
side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive-branch.\n\
I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of\n\
injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for\n\
it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every\n\
possible amends--but of this hereafter. If you should have\n\
no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself\n\
the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday,\n\
November 18th, by four o\'clock, and shall probably trespass on\n\
your hospitality till the Saturday se\'ennight following, which I\n\
can do without any inconvenience, as <NAME> is far from\n\
objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that\n\
some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.--I\n\
remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and\n\
daughters, your well-wisher and friend,\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>\"\n\
\n\
\"At four o\'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making\n\
gentleman,\" said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. \"He\n\
seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon\n\
my word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance,\n\
especially if <NAME> should be so indulgent as to let\n\
him come to us again.\"\n\
\n\
\"There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however,\n\
and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be\n\
the person to discourage him.\"\n\
\n\
\"Though it is difficult,\" said Jane, \"to guess in what way he can\n\
mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is\n\
certainly to his credit.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for\n\
<NAME>, and his kind intention of christening, marrying,\n\
and burying his parishioners whenever it were required.\n\
\n\
\"He must be an oddity, I think,\" said she. \"I cannot make him\n\
out.--There is something very pompous in his style.--And what\n\
can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail?--We\n\
cannot suppose he would help it if he could.--Could he be a\n\
sensible man, sir?\"\n\
\n\
\"No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him\n\
quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and\n\
self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am\n\
impatient to see him.\"\n\
\n\
\"In point of composition,\" said Mary, \"the letter does not seem\n\
defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly\n\
new, yet I think it is well expressed.\"\n\
\n\
To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were\n\
in any degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their\n\
cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some\n\
weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a\n\
man in any other colour. As for their mother, Mr. Collins\'s\n\
letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing\n\
to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her\n\
husband and daughters.\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with\n\
great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said\n\
little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins\n\
seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be\n\
silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of\n\
five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his\n\
manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before\n\
he complimented <NAME> on having so fine a family of\n\
daughters; said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in\n\
this instance fame had fallen short of the truth; and added,\n\
that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed\n\
of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of\n\
some of his hearers; but <NAME>, who quarreled with no\n\
compliments, answered most readily.\n\
\n\
\"You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it\n\
may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are\n\
settled so oddly.\"\n\
\n\
\"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.\"\n\
\n\
\"Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls,\n\
you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with _you_, for\n\
such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no\n\
knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins,\n\
and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of\n\
appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young\n\
ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will\n\
not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted--\"\n\
\n\
He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled\n\
on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins\'s\n\
admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture,\n\
were examined and praised; and his commendation of everything\n\
would have touched Mrs. Bennet\'s heart, but for the mortifying\n\
supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property.\n\
The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to\n\
know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking\n\
was owing. But he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who\n\
assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to\n\
keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in\n\
the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a\n\
softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he\n\
continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 14\n\
\n\
\n\
During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the\n\
servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some\n\
conversation with his guest, and therefore started a subject in\n\
which he expected him to shine, by observing that he seemed\n\
very fortunate in his patroness. Lady <NAME>\'s\n\
attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort,\n\
appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen\n\
better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject\n\
elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a\n\
most important aspect he protested that \"he had never in his life\n\
witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank--such affability\n\
and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady\n\
Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both\n\
of the discourses which he had already had the honour of\n\
preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at\n\
Rosings, and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make\n\
up her pool of quadrille in the evening. <NAME> was\n\
reckoned proud by many people he knew, but _he_ had never\n\
seen anything but affability in her. She had always spoken to\n\
him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not the\n\
smallest objection to his joining in the society of the\n\
neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a\n\
week or two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended\n\
to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose\n\
with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in his humble\n\
parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations\n\
he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some\n\
herself--some shelves in the closet upstairs.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,\" said <NAME>,\n\
\"and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that\n\
great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near\n\
you, sir?\"\n\
\n\
\"The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only\n\
by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship\'s residence.\"\n\
\n\
\"I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?\"\n\
\n\
\"She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very\n\
extensive property.\"\n\
\n\
\"Ah!\" said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, \"then she is better off\n\
than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she\n\
handsome?\"\n\
\n\
\"She is a most charming young lady indeed. <NAME>\n\
herself says that, in point of true beauty, <NAME> is far\n\
superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in\n\
her features which marks the young lady of distinguished birth.\n\
She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented\n\
her from making that progress in many accomplishments which\n\
she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the\n\
lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with\n\
them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to\n\
drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.\"\n\
\n\
\"Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among\n\
the ladies at court.\"\n\
\n\
\"Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being\n\
in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day,\n\
has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments.\n\
Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine\n\
that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little\n\
delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies.\n\
I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her\n\
charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the\n\
most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would\n\
be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which\n\
please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I\n\
conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.\"\n\
\n\
\"You judge very properly,\" said Mr. Bennet, \"and it is happy for\n\
you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I\n\
ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse\n\
of the moment, or are the result of previous study?\"\n\
\n\
\"They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though\n\
I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such\n\
little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions,\n\
I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet\'s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was\n\
as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the\n\
keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most\n\
resolute composure of countenance, and, except in an occasional\n\
glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in his pleasure.\n\
\n\
By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr.\n\
Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room again,\n\
and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to read aloud to the\n\
ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book was produced;\n\
but, on beholding it (for everything announced it to be from a\n\
circulating library), he started back, and begging pardon,\n\
protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and\n\
Lydia exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some\n\
deliberation he chose Fordyce\'s Sermons. Lydia gaped as he\n\
opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous\n\
solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with:\n\
\n\
\"Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning\n\
away Richard; and if he does, <NAME> will hire him. My\n\
aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton\n\
to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny\n\
comes back from town.\"\n\
\n\
Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but\n\
Mr. Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said:\n\
\n\
\"I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by\n\
books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit.\n\
It amazes me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so\n\
advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer\n\
importune my young cousin.\"\n\
\n\
Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist\n\
at backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing\n\
that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling\n\
amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most\n\
civilly for Lydia\'s interruption, and promised that it should not\n\
occur again, if he would resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after\n\
assuring them that he bore his young cousin no ill-will, and\n\
should never resent her behaviour as any affront, seated himself\n\
at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 15\n\
\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature\n\
had been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest\n\
part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an\n\
illiterate and miserly father; and though he belonged to one of\n\
the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without\n\
forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which\n\
his father had brought him up had given him originally great\n\
humility of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by\n\
the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the\n\
consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A\n\
fortunate chance had recommended him to <NAME> de\n\
Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect\n\
which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his\n\
patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his\n\
authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him\n\
altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness,\n\
self-importance and humility.\n\
\n\
Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he\n\
intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the\n\
Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he meant to choose\n\
one of the daughters, if he found them as handsome and amiable\n\
as they were represented by common report. This was his plan\n\
of amends--of atonement--for inheriting their father\'s estate;\n\
and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and\n\
suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his\n\
own part.\n\
\n\
His plan did not vary on seeing them. <NAME>\'s lovely face\n\
confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of\n\
what was due to seniority; and for the first evening _she_ was his\n\
settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration;\n\
for in a quarter of an hour\'s tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before\n\
breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsonage-house,\n\
and leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress\n\
might be found for it at Longbourn, produced from her, amid\n\
very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution\n\
against the very Jane he had fixed on. \"As to her _younger_\n\
daughters, she could not take upon her to say--she could not\n\
positively answer--but she did not _know_ of any prepossession;\n\
her _eldest_ daughter, she must just mention--she felt it\n\
incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth--and it\n\
was soon done--done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire.\n\
Elizabeth, equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded\n\
her of course.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might\n\
soon have two daughters married; and the man whom she could\n\
not bear to speak of the day before was now high in her good\n\
graces.\n\
\n\
Lydia\'s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten;\n\
every sister except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins\n\
was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most\n\
anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself; for\n\
thither Mr. Collins had followed him after breakfast; and there he\n\
would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios\n\
in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little\n\
cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings\n\
discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been\n\
always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as\n\
he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other\n\
room of the house, he was used to be free from them there; his\n\
civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to\n\
join his daughters in their walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact\n\
much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely\n\
pleased to close his large book, and go.\n\
\n\
In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of\n\
his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The\n\
attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by\n\
him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in\n\
quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet\n\
indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall\n\
them.\n\
\n\
But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man,\n\
whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike\n\
appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the\n\
way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny concerning whose\n\
return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he bowed as\n\
they passed. All were struck with the stranger\'s air, all\n\
wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if\n\
possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretense\n\
of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had\n\
just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back,\n\
had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly,\n\
and entreated permission to introduce his friend, <NAME>,\n\
who had returned with him the day before from town, and he\n\
was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps.\n\
This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only\n\
regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance\n\
was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a\n\
fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The\n\
introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of\n\
conversation--a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and\n\
unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking\n\
together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their\n\
notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street.\n\
On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen\n\
came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities.\n\
Bingley was the principal spokesman, and <NAME> the\n\
principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn\n\
on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with\n\
a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on\n\
Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the\n\
stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of\n\
both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the\n\
effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white,\n\
the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his\n\
hat--a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What\n\
could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was\n\
impossible not to long to know.\n\
\n\
In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have\n\
noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.\n\
\n\
Mr. Denny and <NAME> walked with the young ladies to\n\
the door of Mr. Phillip\'s house, and then made their bows, in\n\
spite of M<NAME>\'s pressing entreaties that they should come\n\
in, and even in spite of Mrs. Phillips\'s throwing up the parlour\n\
window and loudly seconding the invitation.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two\n\
eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and\n\
she was eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return\n\
home, which, as their own carriage had not fetched them, she\n\
should have known nothing about, if she had not happened to\n\
see Mr. Jones\'s shop-boy in the street, who had told her that\n\
they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because\n\
the M<NAME>nets were come away, when her civility was\n\
claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane\'s introduction of him. She\n\
received him with her very best politeness, which he returned\n\
with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any\n\
previous acquaintance with her, which he could not help\n\
flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship\n\
to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice. Mrs.\n\
Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding; but\n\
her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by\n\
exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom, however,\n\
she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr.\n\
Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a\n\
lieutenant\'s commission in the ----shire. She had been watching\n\
him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street,\n\
and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly\n\
have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed\n\
windows now except a few of the officers, who, in comparison\n\
with the stranger, were become \"stupid, disagreeable fellows.\"\n\
Some of them were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and\n\
their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham,\n\
and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn\n\
would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs.\n\
Phillips protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy\n\
game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards.\n\
The prospect of such delights was very cheering, and they parted\n\
in mutual good spirits. Mr. Collins repeated his apologies in\n\
quitting the room, and was assured with unwearying civility that\n\
they were perfectly needless.\n\
\n\
As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had\n\
seen pass between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would\n\
have defended either or both, had they appeared to be in the\n\
wrong, she could no more explain such behaviour than her sister.\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by\n\
admiring Mrs. Phillips\'s manners and politeness. He protested\n\
that, except <NAME> and her daughter, he had never seen\n\
a more elegant woman; for she had not only received him with\n\
the utmost civility, but even pointedly included him in her\n\
invitation for the next evening, although utterly unknown to her\n\
before. Something, he supposed, might be attributed to his\n\
connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much\n\
attention in the whole course of his life.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 16\n\
\n\
\n\
As no objection was made to the young people\'s engagement\n\
with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins\'s scruples of leaving Mr.\n\
and Mrs. Bennet for a single evening during his visit were most\n\
steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five cousins\n\
at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the girls had the pleasure of\n\
hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that <NAME>\n\
had accepted their uncle\'s invitation, and was then in the house.\n\
\n\
When this information was given, and they had all taken their\n\
seats, <NAME> was at leisure to look around him and admire,\n\
and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the\n\
apartment, that he declared he might almost have supposed\n\
himself in the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings; a\n\
comparison that did not at first convey much gratification; but\n\
when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and\n\
who was its proprietor--when she had listened to the description\n\
of only one of Lady Catherine\'s drawing-rooms, and found that\n\
the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt\n\
all the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented\n\
a comparison with the housekeeper\'s room.\n\
\n\
In describing to her all the grandeur of <NAME> and her\n\
mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble\n\
abode, and the improvements it was receiving, he was happily\n\
employed until the gentlemen joined them; and he found in\n\
Mrs. Phillips a very attentive listener, whose opinion of\n\
his consequence increased with what she heard, and who was\n\
resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as soon as she\n\
could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin,\n\
and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and\n\
examine their own indifferent imitations of china on the\n\
mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was\n\
over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach, and when\n\
Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had\n\
neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with\n\
the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of\n\
the ----shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike\n\
set, and the best of them were of the present party; but Mr.\n\
Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air,\n\
and walk, as _they_ were superior to the broad-faced, stuffy\n\
uncle Phillips, breathing port wine, who followed them into\n\
the room.\n\
\n\
Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every\n\
female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by\n\
whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in\n\
which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only\n\
on its being a wet night, made her feel that the commonest,\n\
dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by\n\
the skill of the speaker.\n\
\n\
With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and\n\
the officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to\n\
the young ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at\n\
intervals a kind listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her\n\
watchfulness, most abundantly supplied with coffee and muffin.\n\
When the card-tables were placed, he had the opportunity of\n\
obliging her in turn, by sitting down to whist.\n\
\n\
\"I know little of the game at present,\" said he, \"but I shall be\n\
glad to improve myself, for in my situation in life--\" Mrs. Phillips\n\
was very glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his\n\
reason.\n\
\n\
<NAME> did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he\n\
received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first\n\
there seemed danger of Lydia\'s engrossing him entirely, for she\n\
was a most determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond\n\
of lottery tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the\n\
game, too eager in making bets and exclaiming after prizes to\n\
have attention for anyone in particular. Allowing for the\n\
common demands of the game, <NAME> was therefore at leisure\n\
to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him,\n\
though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be\n\
told--the history of his acquaintance with <NAME>. She dared\n\
not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was\n\
unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself.\n\
He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after\n\
receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long\n\
<NAME> had been staying there.\n\
\n\
\"About a month,\" said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the\n\
subject drop, added, \"He is a man of very large property in\n\
Derbyshire, I understand.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes,\" replied Mr. Wickham; \"his estate there is a noble one.\n\
A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a\n\
person more capable of giving you certain information on that\n\
head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in\n\
a particular manner from my infancy.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not but look surprised.\n\
\n\
\"You may well be surprised, <NAME>, at such an assertion,\n\
after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our\n\
meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?\"\n\
\n\
\"As much as I ever wish to be,\" cried Elizabeth very warmly.\n\
\"I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think\n\
him very disagreeable.\"\n\
\n\
\"I have no right to give _my_ opinion,\" said Wickham, \"as to his\n\
being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I\n\
have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is\n\
impossible for _me_ to be impartial. But I believe your opinion\n\
of him would in general astonish--and perhaps you would not\n\
express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your\n\
own family.\"\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word, I say no more _here_ than I might say in any\n\
house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all\n\
liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride.\n\
You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone.\"\n\
\n\
\"I cannot pretend to be sorry,\" said Wickham, after a short\n\
interruption, \"that he or that any man should not be estimated\n\
beyond their deserts; but with _him_ I believe it does not often\n\
happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence,\n\
or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him\n\
only as he chooses to be seen.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should take him, even on _my_ slight acquaintance, to be an\n\
ill-tempered man.\" Wickham only shook his head.\n\
\n\
\"I wonder,\" said he, at the next opportunity of speaking,\n\
\"whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not at all know; but I _heard_ nothing of his going away\n\
when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the\n\
----shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! no--it is not for _me_ to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If\n\
_he_ wishes to avoid seeing _me_, he must go. We are not on\n\
friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I\n\
have no reason for avoiding _him_ but what I might proclaim\n\
before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most\n\
painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, <NAME>,\n\
the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed,\n\
and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company\n\
with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a\n\
thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been\n\
scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and\n\
everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and\n\
disgracing the memory of his father.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened\n\
with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.\n\
\n\
Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton,\n\
the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all\n\
that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but\n\
very intelligible gallantry.\n\
\n\
\"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,\" he\n\
added, \"which was my chief inducement to enter the ----shire.\n\
I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my\n\
friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their\n\
present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent\n\
acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is\n\
necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits\n\
will not bear solitude. I _must_ have employment and society.\n\
A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances\n\
have now made it eligible. The church _ought_ to have been\n\
my profession--I was brought up for the church, and I should at\n\
this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had\n\
it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed!\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes--the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation\n\
of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and\n\
excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness.\n\
He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it;\n\
but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.\"\n\
\n\
\"Good heavens!\" cried Elizabeth; \"but how could _that_ be?\n\
How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal\n\
redress?\"\n\
\n\
\"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest\n\
as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have\n\
doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it--or to\n\
treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that\n\
I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence--in\n\
short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became\n\
vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and\n\
that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that\n\
I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve\n\
to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have\n\
spoken my opinion _of_ him, and _to_ him, too freely. I can recall\n\
nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort\n\
of men, and that he hates me.\"\n\
\n\
\"This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.\"\n\
\n\
\"Some time or other he _will_ be--but it shall not be by _me_.\n\
Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose _him_.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him\n\
handsomer than ever as he expressed them.\n\
\n\
\"But what,\" said she, after a pause, \"can have been his motive?\n\
What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?\"\n\
\n\
\"A thorough, determined dislike of me--a dislike which I cannot\n\
but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr.\n\
Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better;\n\
but his father\'s uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I\n\
believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of\n\
competition in which we stood--the sort of preference which\n\
was often given me.\"\n\
\n\
\"I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this--though I have\n\
never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had\n\
supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but\n\
did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge,\n\
such injustice, such inhumanity as this.\"\n\
\n\
After a few minutes\' reflection, however, she continued,\n\
\"I _do_ remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the\n\
implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving\n\
temper. His disposition must be dreadful.\"\n\
\n\
\"I will not trust myself on the subject,\" replied Wickham; \"I\n\
can hardly be just to him.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed,\n\
\"To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite\n\
of his father!\" She could have added, \"A young man, too,\n\
like _you_, whose very countenance may vouch for your being\n\
amiable\"--but she contented herself with, \"and one, too, who\n\
had probably been his companion from childhood, connected\n\
together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!\"\n\
\n\
\"We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the\n\
greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the\n\
same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same\n\
parental care. _My_ father began life in the profession which\n\
your uncle, <NAME>, appears to do so much credit to--but\n\
he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy and\n\
devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property.\n\
He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate,\n\
confidential friend. <NAME> often acknowledged himself\n\
to be under the greatest obligations to my father\'s active\n\
superintendence, and when, immediately before my father\'s\n\
death, <NAME> gave him a voluntary promise of providing for\n\
me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of\n\
gratitude to _him_, as of his affection to myself.\"\n\
\n\
\"How strange!\" cried Elizabeth. \"How abominable! I wonder\n\
that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to\n\
you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too\n\
proud to be dishonest--for dishonesty I must call it.\"\n\
\n\
\"It _is_ wonderful,\" replied Wickham, \"for almost all his actions\n\
may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend.\n\
It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other\n\
feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour\n\
to me there were stronger impulses even than pride.\"\n\
\n\
\"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his\n\
money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and\n\
relieve the poor. Family pride, and _filial_ pride--for he is very\n\
proud of what his father was--have done this. Not to appear to\n\
disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or\n\
lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive.\n\
He has also _brotherly_ pride, which, with _some_ brotherly\n\
affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his\n\
sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most\n\
attentive and best of brothers.\"\n\
\n\
\"What sort of girl is <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
He shook his head. \"I wish I could call her amiable. It gives\n\
me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her\n\
brother--very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate\n\
and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours\n\
and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now.\n\
She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I\n\
understand, highly accomplished. Since her father\'s death,\n\
her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and\n\
superintends her education.\"\n\
\n\
After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth\n\
could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying:\n\
\n\
\"I am astonished at his intimacy with <NAME>! How can Mr.\n\
Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe,\n\
truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they\n\
suit each other? Do you know <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
\"Not at all.\"\n\
\n\
\"He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot\n\
know what <NAME> is.\"\n\
\n\
\"Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He\n\
does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he\n\
thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals\n\
in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the\n\
less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich\n\
he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and\n\
perhaps agreeable--allowing something for fortune and figure.\"\n\
\n\
The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players\n\
gathered round the other table and <NAME> took his station\n\
between his cousin Elizabeth and <NAME>. The usual\n\
inquiries as to his success was made by the latter. It had not\n\
been very great; he had lost every point; but when Mrs. Phillips\n\
began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with\n\
much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance, that\n\
he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged that she\n\
would not make herself uneasy.\n\
\n\
\"I know very well, madam,\" said he, \"that when persons sit down\n\
to a card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and\n\
happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings\n\
any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the\n\
same, but thanks to <NAME>, I am removed\n\
far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s attention was caught; and after observing Mr.\n\
Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice\n\
whether her relation was very intimately acquainted with the\n\
family of de Bourgh.\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>,\" she replied, \"has very lately given\n\
him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first\n\
introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her\n\
long.\"\n\
\n\
\"You know of course that <NAME> and Lady\n\
<NAME> were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the\n\
present Mr. Darcy.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine\'s\n\
connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before\n\
yesterday.\"\n\
\n\
\"Her daughter, <NAME>, will have a very large fortune,\n\
and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two\n\
estates.\"\n\
\n\
This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor\n\
<NAME>. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and\n\
useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself,\n\
if he were already self-destined for another.\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Collins,\" said she, \"speaks highly both of <NAME>\n\
and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related\n\
of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in\n\
spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited\n\
woman.\"\n\
\n\
\"I believe her to be both in a great degree,\" replied Wickham;\n\
\"I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that\n\
I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and\n\
insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible\n\
and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities\n\
from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner,\n\
and the rest from the pride for her nephew, who chooses that\n\
everyone connected with him should have an understanding of\n\
the first class.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it,\n\
and they continued talking together, with mutual satisfaction\n\
till supper put an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies\n\
their share of Mr. Wickham\'s attentions. There could be no\n\
conversation in the noise of Mrs. Phillips\'s supper party, but\n\
his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said,\n\
was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth\n\
went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing\n\
but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way\n\
home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name\n\
as they went, for neither Lydia nor <NAME> were once silent.\n\
Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had\n\
lost and the fish she had won; and <NAME> in describing the\n\
civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did not in\n\
the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes\n\
at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins,\n\
had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage\n\
stopped at Longbourn House.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 17\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between\n\
Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and\n\
concern; she knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be\n\
so unworthy of Mr. Bingley\'s regard; and yet, it was not in her\n\
nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable\n\
appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having endured\n\
such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings;\n\
and nothing remained therefore to be done, but to think well of\n\
them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the\n\
account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise\n\
explained.\n\
\n\
\"They have both,\" said she, \"been deceived, I dare say, in some\n\
way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people\n\
have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short,\n\
impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances\n\
which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either\n\
side.\"\n\
\n\
\"Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got\n\
to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been\n\
concerned in the business? Do clear _them_ too, or we shall be\n\
obliged to think ill of somebody.\"\n\
\n\
\"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of\n\
my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a\n\
disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father\'s\n\
favourite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to\n\
provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no\n\
man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it.\n\
Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him?\n\
Oh! no.\"\n\
\n\
\"I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley\'s being imposed on,\n\
than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself\n\
as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned\n\
without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it.\n\
Besides, there was truth in his looks.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is difficult indeed--it is distressing. One does not know what\n\
to think.\"\n\
\n\
\"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.\"\n\
\n\
But Jane could think with certainty on only one point--that Mr.\n\
Bingley, if he _had_ been imposed on, would have much to suffer\n\
when the affair became public.\n\
\n\
The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery,\n\
where this conversation passed, by the arrival of the very\n\
persons of whom they had been speaking; <NAME> and his\n\
sisters came to give their personal invitation for the\n\
long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the\n\
following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their\n\
dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and\n\
repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since\n\
their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little\n\
attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not\n\
much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were\n\
soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which\n\
took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to\n\
escape from Mrs. Bennet\'s civilities.\n\
\n\
The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to\n\
every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as\n\
given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly\n\
flattered by receiving the invitation from <NAME> himself,\n\
instead of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy\n\
evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of\n\
her brother; and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a\n\
great deal with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of\n\
everything in Mr. Darcy\'s look and behavior. The happiness\n\
anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended less on any single\n\
event, or any particular person, for though they each, like\n\
Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham,\n\
he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and\n\
a ball was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her\n\
family that she had no disinclination for it.\n\
\n\
\"While I can have my mornings to myself,\" said she, \"it is\n\
enough--I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening\n\
engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself\n\
one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement\n\
as desirable for everybody.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she\n\
did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not\n\
help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley\'s\n\
invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join\n\
in the evening\'s amusement; and she was rather surprised to find\n\
that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was\n\
very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or\n\
Lady <NAME>, by venturing to dance.\n\
\n\
\"I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you,\" said he, \"that\n\
a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to\n\
respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so\n\
far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be\n\
honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of\n\
the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss\n\
Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a preference which\n\
I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not\n\
to any disrespect for her.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully\n\
proposed being engaged by <NAME> for those very dances;\n\
and to have Mr. Collins instead! her liveliness had never been\n\
worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr. Wickham\'s\n\
happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer,\n\
and Mr. Collins\'s proposal accepted with as good a grace as she\n\
could. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from\n\
the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck\n\
her, that _she_ was selected from among her sisters as worthy of\n\
being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form\n\
a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible\n\
visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed\n\
his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his\n\
frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity; and\n\
though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect\n\
of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave her to\n\
understand that the probability of their marriage was extremely\n\
agreeable to _her_. Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take\n\
the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the\n\
consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the\n\
offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.\n\
\n\
If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk\n\
of, the younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very pitiable\n\
state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day\n\
of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their\n\
walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no officers, no news could\n\
be sought after--the very shoe-roses for Netherfield were got\n\
by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of her\n\
patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of\n\
her acquaintance with <NAME>; and nothing less than a\n\
dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday,\n\
Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 18\n\
\n\
\n\
Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and\n\
looked in vain for <NAME> among the cluster of red coats\n\
there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred\n\
to her. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by\n\
any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have\n\
alarmed her. She had dressed with more than usual care, and\n\
prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that\n\
remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more\n\
than might be won in the course of the evening. But in an\n\
instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely\n\
omitted for Mr. Darcy\'s pleasure in the Bingleys\' invitation\n\
to the officers; and though this was not exactly the case, the\n\
absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Denny,\n\
to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and who told them that Wickham\n\
had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and\n\
was not yet returned; adding, with a significant smile, \"I do not\n\
imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he\n\
had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.\"\n\
\n\
This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was\n\
caught by Elizabeth, and, as it assured her that Darcy was not\n\
less answerable for Wickham\'s absence than if her first surmise\n\
had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former\n\
was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could\n\
hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries\n\
which he directly afterwards approached to make. Attendance,\n\
forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She\n\
was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and\n\
turned away with a degree of ill-humour which she could not\n\
wholly surmount even in speaking to <NAME>, whose blind\n\
partiality provoked her.\n\
\n\
But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every\n\
prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not\n\
dwell long on her spirits; and having told all her griefs to\n\
<NAME>, whom she had not seen for a week, she was\n\
soon able to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of her\n\
cousin, and to point him out to her particular notice. The first\n\
two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were\n\
dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn,\n\
apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong\n\
without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery\n\
which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give.\n\
The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.\n\
\n\
She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of\n\
talking of Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked.\n\
When those dances were over, she returned to <NAME>,\n\
and was in conversation with her, when she found herself\n\
suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise\n\
in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she\n\
did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and\n\
she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind;\n\
Charlotte tried to console her:\n\
\n\
\"I dare say you will find him very agreeable.\"\n\
\n\
\"Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all!\n\
To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not\n\
wish me such an evil.\"\n\
\n\
When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to\n\
claim her hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her in a\n\
whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham\n\
to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his\n\
consequence. Elizabeth made no answer, and took her place in\n\
the set, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being\n\
allowed to stand opposite to <NAME>, and reading in her\n\
neighbours\' looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They\n\
stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to\n\
imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances,\n\
and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly\n\
fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner\n\
to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the\n\
dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of\n\
some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:--\"It is\n\
_your_ turn to say something now, <NAME>. I talked about\n\
the dance, and _you_ ought to make some sort of remark on the\n\
size of the room, or the number of couples.\"\n\
\n\
He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say\n\
should be said.\n\
\n\
\"Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and\n\
by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than\n\
public ones. But _now_ we may be silent.\"\n\
\n\
\"Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?\"\n\
\n\
\"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look\n\
odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for\n\
the advantage of _some_, conversation ought to be so arranged, as\n\
that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.\"\n\
\n\
\"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do\n\
you imagine that you are gratifying mine?\"\n\
\n\
\"Both,\" replied Elizabeth archly; \"for I have always seen a great\n\
similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial,\n\
taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say\n\
something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down\n\
to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.\"\n\
\n\
\"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character,\n\
I am sure,\" said he. \"How near it may be to _mine_, I cannot\n\
pretend to say. _You_ think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.\"\n\
\n\
\"I must not decide on my own performance.\"\n\
\n\
He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone\n\
down the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not\n\
very often walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative,\n\
and, unable to resist the temptation, added, \"When you met us\n\
there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.\"\n\
\n\
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of _hauteur_ overspread\n\
his features, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though\n\
blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At\n\
length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said, \"Mr.\n\
Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his\n\
_making_ friends--whether he may be equally capable of _retaining_\n\
them, is less certain.\"\n\
\n\
\"He has been so unlucky as to lose _your_ friendship,\" replied\n\
Elizabeth with emphasis, \"and in a manner which he is likely to\n\
suffer from all his life.\"\n\
\n\
Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the\n\
subject. At that moment, Sir <NAME> appeared close to\n\
them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the\n\
room; but on perceiving Mr. Darcy, he stopped with a bow of\n\
superior courtesy to compliment him on his dancing and his\n\
partner.\n\
\n\
\"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such\n\
very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you\n\
belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your\n\
fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have\n\
this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable\n\
event, my dear Eliza (glancing at her sister and Bingley) shall\n\
take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to\n\
Mr. Darcy:--but let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not\n\
thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that\n\
young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.\"\n\
\n\
The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy;\n\
but <NAME>\'s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him\n\
forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious\n\
expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were dancing together.\n\
Recovering himself, however, shortly, he turned to his partner,\n\
and said, \"Sir William\'s interruption has made me forget what\n\
we were talking of.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not\n\
have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for\n\
themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without\n\
success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.\"\n\
\n\
\"What think you of books?\" said he, smiling.\n\
\n\
\"Books--oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with\n\
the same feelings.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at\n\
least be no want of subject. We may compare our different\n\
opinions.\"\n\
\n\
\"No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always\n\
full of something else.\"\n\
\n\
\"The _present_ always occupies you in such scenes--does it?\"\n\
said he, with a look of doubt.\n\
\n\
\"Yes, always,\" she replied, without knowing what she said,\n\
for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon\n\
afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, \"I remember\n\
hearing you once say, <NAME>, that you hardly ever forgave,\n\
that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are\n\
very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being created_.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am,\" said he, with a firm voice.\n\
\n\
\"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?\"\n\
\n\
\"I hope not.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their\n\
opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.\"\n\
\n\
\"May I ask to what these questions tend?\"\n\
\n\
\"Merely to the illustration of _your_ character,\" said she,\n\
endeavouring to shake off her gravity. \"I am trying to make\n\
it out.\"\n\
\n\
\"And what is your success?\"\n\
\n\
She shook her head. \"I do not get on at all. I hear such\n\
different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.\"\n\
\n\
\"I can readily believe,\" answered he gravely, \"that reports may\n\
vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, <NAME>,\n\
that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment,\n\
as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no\n\
credit on either.\"\n\
\n\
\"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have\n\
another opportunity.\"\n\
\n\
\"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,\" he coldly\n\
replied. She said no more, and they went down the other dance\n\
and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not\n\
to an equal degree, for in Darcy\'s breast there was a tolerable\n\
powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon,\n\
and directed all his anger against another.\n\
\n\
They had not long separated, when <NAME> came towards\n\
her, and with an expression of civil disdain accosted her:\n\
\n\
\"So, <NAME>, I hear you are quite delighted with George\n\
Wickham! Your sister has been talking to me about him, and\n\
asking me a thousand questions; and I find that the young man\n\
quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that\n\
he was the son of <NAME>, the late Mr. Darcy\'s steward.\n\
Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit\n\
confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy\'s using\n\
him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has\n\
always been remarkably kind to him, though <NAME> has\n\
treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know the\n\
particulars, but I know very well that <NAME> is not in the\n\
least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear <NAME>\n\
mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not\n\
well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he\n\
was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the\n\
way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing,\n\
indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you,\n\
<NAME>, for this discovery of your favourite\'s guilt; but\n\
really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.\"\n\
\n\
\"His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the\n\
same,\" said Elizabeth angrily; \"for I have heard you accuse him\n\
of nothing worse than of being the son of <NAME>\'s steward,\n\
and of _that_, I can assure you, he informed me himself.\"\n\
\n\
\"I beg your pardon,\" replied <NAME>, turning away with a\n\
sneer. \"Excuse my interference--it was kindly meant.\"\n\
\n\
\"Insolent girl!\" said Elizabeth to herself. \"You are much\n\
mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack\n\
as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and\n\
the malice of Mr. Darcy.\" She then sought her eldest sister, who\n\
has undertaken to make inquiries on the same subject of Bingley.\n\
Jane met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of\n\
such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was\n\
satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Elizabeth instantly\n\
read her feelings, and at that moment solicitude for Wickham,\n\
resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave way\n\
before the hope of Jane\'s being in the fairest way for happiness.\n\
\n\
\"I want to know,\" said she, with a countenance no less smiling\n\
than her sister\'s, \"what you have learnt about <NAME>.\n\
But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged to think of\n\
any third person; in which case you may be sure of my pardon.\"\n\
\n\
\"No,\" replied Jane, \"I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing\n\
satisfactory to tell you. <NAME> does not know the whole of\n\
his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have\n\
principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good\n\
conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly\n\
convinced that <NAME> has deserved much less attention\n\
from <NAME> than he has received; and I am sorry to say by\n\
his account as well as his sister\'s, <NAME> is by no means a\n\
respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent,\n\
and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy\'s regard.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME> does not know <NAME> himself?\"\n\
\n\
\"No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.\"\n\
\n\
\"This account then is what he has received from <NAME>.\n\
I am satisfied. But what does he say of the living?\"\n\
\n\
\"He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has\n\
heard them from <NAME> more than once, but he believes that\n\
it was left to him _conditionally_ only.\"\n\
\n\
\"I have not a doubt of <NAME>\'s sincerity,\" said Elizabeth\n\
warmly; \"but you must excuse my not being convinced by\n\
assurances only. Mr. Bingley\'s defense of his friend was a very\n\
able one, I dare say; but since he is unacquainted with several\n\
parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend\n\
himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I\n\
did before.\"\n\
\n\
She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each,\n\
and on which there could be no difference of sentiment.\n\
Elizabeth listened with delight to the happy, though modest\n\
hopes which Jane entertained of Mr. Bingley\'s regard, and said\n\
all in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On their being\n\
joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew to Miss\n\
Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last partner\n\
she had scarcely replied, before <NAME> came up to them,\n\
and told her with great exultation that he had just been so\n\
fortunate as to make a most important discovery.\n\
\n\
\"I have found out,\" said he, \"by a singular accident, that there\n\
is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened\n\
to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who\n\
does the honours of the house the names of his cousin <NAME>\n\
Bourgh, and of her mother <NAME>. How wonderfully these\n\
sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with,\n\
perhaps, a nephew of Lady <NAME> in this assembly!\n\
I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to\n\
pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust\n\
he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance\n\
of the connection must plead my apology.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy!\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it\n\
earlier. I believe him to be <NAME>\'s _nephew_. It will\n\
be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well\n\
yesterday se\'nnight.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme,\n\
assuring him that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him\n\
without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a\n\
compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the least necessary\n\
there should be any notice on either side; and that if it were,\n\
it must belong to <NAME>, the superior in consequence, to\n\
begin the acquaintance. <NAME> listened to her with the\n\
determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she\n\
ceased speaking, replied thus:\n\
\n\
\"My dear <NAME>, I have the highest opinion in the world\n\
in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of\n\
your understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a\n\
wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst\n\
the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me\n\
leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in\n\
point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom--provided\n\
that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time\n\
maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates\n\
of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what\n\
I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit\n\
by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant\n\
guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted\n\
by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than\n\
a young lady like yourself.\" And with a low bow he left her to\n\
attack Mr. Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly\n\
watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very\n\
evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and\n\
though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing\n\
it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words \"apology,\"\n\
\"Hunsford,\" and \"<NAME>.\" It vexed her to\n\
see him expose himself to such a man. <NAME> was eyeing him\n\
with unrestrained wonder, and when at last <NAME> allowed\n\
him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr.\n\
Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and\n\
Mr. Darcy\'s contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length\n\
of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a\n\
slight bow, and moved another way. <NAME> then returned\n\
to Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"I have no reason, I assure you,\" said he, \"to be dissatisfied\n\
with my reception. <NAME> seemed much pleased with the\n\
attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even\n\
paid me the compliment of saying that he was so well convinced\n\
of Lady Catherine\'s discernment as to be certain she could never\n\
bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome\n\
thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.\"\n\
\n\
As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue,\n\
she turned her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr.\n\
Bingley; and the train of agreeable reflections which her\n\
observations gave birth to, made her perhaps almost as happy as\n\
Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that very house, in all the\n\
felicity which a marriage of true affection could bestow; and she\n\
felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring even to\n\
like Bingley\'s two sisters. Her mother\'s thoughts she plainly\n\
saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture\n\
near her, lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to\n\
supper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness\n\
which placed them within one of each other; and deeply was she\n\
vexed to find that her mother was talking to that one person\n\
(<NAME>) freely, openly, and of nothing else but her\n\
expectation that Jane would soon be married to Mr. Bingley. It\n\
was an animating subject, and <NAME> seemed incapable of\n\
fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His\n\
being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but\n\
three miles from them, were the first points of self-gratulation;\n\
and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters\n\
were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the\n\
connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a\n\
promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane\'s marrying so\n\
greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; and lastly,\n\
it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to consign her\n\
single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might not\n\
be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was\n\
necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure,\n\
because on such occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less\n\
likely than <NAME> to find comfort in staying home at any\n\
period of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that\n\
Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently\n\
and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it.\n\
\n\
In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her\n\
mother\'s words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a\n\
less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she\n\
could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by <NAME>,\n\
who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for\n\
being nonsensical.\n\
\n\
\"What is <NAME> to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him?\n\
I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged\n\
to say nothing _he_ may not like to hear.\"\n\
\n\
\"For heaven\'s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can\n\
it be for you to offend <NAME>? You will never recommend\n\
yourself to his friend by so doing!\"\n\
\n\
Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her\n\
mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone.\n\
Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation.\n\
She could not help frequently glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy,\n\
though every glance convinced her of what she dreaded; for\n\
though he was not always looking at her mother, she was\n\
convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her.\n\
The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant\n\
contempt to a composed and steady gravity.\n\
\n\
At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady\n\
Lucas, who had been long yawning at the repetition of delights\n\
which she saw no likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts\n\
of cold ham and chicken. Elizabeth now began to revive. But\n\
not long was the interval of tranquillity; for, when supper was\n\
over, singing was talked of, and she had the mortification of\n\
seeing Mary, after very little entreaty, preparing to oblige the\n\
company. By many significant looks and silent entreaties, did\n\
she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance, but in\n\
vain; Mary would not understand them; such an opportunity of\n\
exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song.\n\
Elizabeth\'s eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations,\n\
and she watched her progress through the several stanzas with\n\
an impatience which was very ill rewarded at their close; for\n\
Mary, on receiving, amongst the thanks of the table, the hint of\n\
a hope that she might be prevailed on to favour them again, after\n\
the pause of half a minute began another. Mary\'s powers were\n\
by no means fitted for such a display; her voice was weak, and\n\
her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. She looked at\n\
Jane, to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly\n\
talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw\n\
them making signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who\n\
continued, however, imperturbably grave. She looked at her\n\
father to entreat his interference, lest Mary should be singing all\n\
night. He took the hint, and when Mary had finished her second\n\
song, said aloud, \"That will do extremely well, child. You have\n\
delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time\n\
to exhibit.\"\n\
\n\
Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted;\n\
and Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father\'s speech,\n\
was afraid her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party\n\
were now applied to.\n\
\n\
\"If I,\" said Mr. Collins, \"were so fortunate as to be able to sing,\n\
I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company\n\
with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion,\n\
and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do\n\
not mean, however, to assert that we can be justified in devoting\n\
too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things\n\
to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the\n\
first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be\n\
beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must\n\
write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too\n\
much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his\n\
dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable\n\
as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he\n\
should have attentive and conciliatory manner towards everybody,\n\
especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I\n\
cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the\n\
man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect\n\
towards anybody connected with the family.\" And with a bow to\n\
Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so\n\
loud as to be heard by half the room. Many stared--many smiled;\n\
but no one looked more amused than <NAME> himself, while\n\
his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for having spoken so\n\
sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to <NAME>, that he\n\
was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.\n\
\n\
To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement\n\
to expose themselves as much as they could during the\n\
evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their\n\
parts with more spirit or finer success; and happy did she think\n\
it for Bingley and her sister that some of the exhibition had\n\
escaped his notice, and that his feelings were not of a sort to\n\
be much distressed by the folly which he must have witnessed.\n\
That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should have such\n\
an opportunity of ridiculing her relations, was bad enough, and\n\
she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the\n\
gentleman, or the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more\n\
intolerable.\n\
\n\
The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was\n\
teased by Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her\n\
side, and though he could not prevail on her to dance with him\n\
again, put it out of her power to dance with others. In vain\n\
did she entreat him to stand up with somebody else, and offer to\n\
introduce him to any young lady in the room. He assured her,\n\
that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it; that his\n\
chief object was by delicate attentions to recommend himself to\n\
her and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close\n\
to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a\n\
project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend <NAME>,\n\
who often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins\'s\n\
conversation to herself.\n\
\n\
She was at least free from the offense of Mr. Darcy\'s further\n\
notice; though often standing within a very short distance of her,\n\
quite disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt\n\
it to be the probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham,\n\
and rejoiced in it.\n\
\n\
The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart,\n\
and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, had to wait for their\n\
carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone,\n\
which gave them time to see how heartily they were wished\n\
away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her sister scarcely\n\
opened their mouths, except to complain of fatigue, and were\n\
evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They\n\
repulsed every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and by\n\
so doing threw a languor over the whole party, which was very\n\
little relieved by the long speeches of Mr. Collins, who was\n\
complimenting Mr. Bingley and his sisters on the elegance of\n\
their entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness which had\n\
marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said nothing at all.\n\
Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. Mr.\n\
Bingley and Jane were standing together, a little detached from\n\
the rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as\n\
steady a silence as either Mrs. Hurst or <NAME>; and even\n\
Lydia was too much fatigued to utter more than the occasional\n\
exclamation of \"Lord, how tired I am!\" accompanied by a\n\
violent yawn.\n\
\n\
When at length they arose to take leave, <NAME> was most\n\
pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon\n\
at Longbourn, and addressed herself especially to Mr. Bingley,\n\
to assure him how happy he would make them by eating a family\n\
dinner with them at any time, without the ceremony of a formal\n\
invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure, and he readily\n\
engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her,\n\
after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the\n\
next day for a short time.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under\n\
the delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary\n\
preparations of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes,\n\
she should undoubtedly see her daughter settled at Netherfield in\n\
the course of three or four months. Of having another daughter\n\
married to Mr. Collins, she thought with equal certainty, and\n\
with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Elizabeth was the\n\
least dear to her of all her children; and though the man and the\n\
match were quite good enough for _her_, the worth of each was\n\
eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 19\n\
\n\
\n\
The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins\n\
made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without\n\
loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the\n\
following Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make\n\
it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about it\n\
in a very orderly manner, with all the observances, which\n\
he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs.\n\
Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together, soon\n\
after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words:\n\
\n\
\"May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter\n\
Elizabeth, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience\n\
with her in the course of this morning?\"\n\
\n\
Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise,\n\
Mrs. Bennet answered instantly, \"Oh dear!--yes--certainly. I\n\
am sure Lizzy will be very happy--I am sure she can have no\n\
objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.\" And, gathering\n\
her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth\n\
called out:\n\
\n\
\"Dear madam, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins\n\
must excuse me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody\n\
need not hear. I am going away myself.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you to stay where you are.\"\n\
And upon Elizabeth\'s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed\n\
looks, about to escape, she added: \"Lizzy, I _insist_ upon your\n\
staying and hearing Mr. Collins.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction--and a moment\'s\n\
consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to\n\
get it over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again\n\
and tried to conceal, by incessant employment the feelings which\n\
were divided between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty\n\
walked off, and as soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began.\n\
\n\
\"Believe me, my dear <NAME>, that your modesty, so far\n\
from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other\n\
perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had\n\
there _not_ been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure\n\
you, that I have your respected mother\'s permission for this\n\
address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse,\n\
however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my\n\
attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon\n\
as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of\n\
my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on\n\
this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my\n\
reasons for marrying--and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire\n\
with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.\"\n\
\n\
The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being\n\
run away with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing,\n\
that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt\n\
to stop him further, and he continued:\n\
\n\
\"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right\n\
thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to\n\
set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am\n\
convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness; and\n\
thirdly--which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that\n\
it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble\n\
lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has\n\
she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this\n\
subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left\n\
Hunsford--between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson\n\
was arranging <NAME>\'s footstool, that she said, \'Mr.\n\
Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry.\n\
Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for _my_ sake; and for\n\
your _own_, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought\n\
up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is\n\
my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to\n\
Hunsford, and I will visit her.\' Allow me, by the way, to\n\
observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and\n\
kindness of Lady <NAME> as among the least of the\n\
advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners\n\
beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I\n\
think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with\n\
the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite.\n\
Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony;\n\
it remains to be told why my views were directed towards\n\
Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can\n\
assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact\n\
is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of\n\
your honoured father (who, however, may live many years\n\
longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a\n\
wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as\n\
little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place--which,\n\
however, as I have already said, may not be for several years.\n\
This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it\n\
will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains\n\
for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the\n\
violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent,\n\
and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I\n\
am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one\n\
thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours\n\
till after your mother\'s decease, is all that you may ever be\n\
entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent;\n\
and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall\n\
ever pass my lips when we are married.\"\n\
\n\
It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.\n\
\n\
\"You are too hasty, sir,\" she cried. \"You forget that I have\n\
made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time.\n\
Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am\n\
very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is\n\
impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am not now to learn,\" replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave\n\
of the hand, \"that it is usual with young ladies to reject the\n\
addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when\n\
he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal\n\
is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no\n\
means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to\n\
lead you to the altar ere long.\"\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word, sir,\" cried Elizabeth, \"your hope is a rather\n\
extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I\n\
am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are)\n\
who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of\n\
being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal.\n\
You could not make _me_ happy, and I am convinced that I am\n\
the last woman in the world who could make you so. Nay, were\n\
your friend <NAME> to know me, I am persuaded she\n\
would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation.\"\n\
\n\
\"Were it certain that <NAME> would think so,\" said Mr.\n\
Collins very gravely--\"but I cannot imagine that her ladyship\n\
would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain when I\n\
have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the very\n\
highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable\n\
qualification.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary.\n\
You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the\n\
compliment of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and\n\
very rich, and by refusing your hand, do all in my power to\n\
prevent your being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must\n\
have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my\n\
family, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever\n\
it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be\n\
considered, therefore, as finally settled.\" And rising as she\n\
thus spoke, she would have quitted the room, had Mr. Collins\n\
not thus addressed her:\n\
\n\
\"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the\n\
subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than\n\
you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of\n\
cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established\n\
custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and\n\
perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit\n\
as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female\n\
character.\"\n\
\n\
\"Really, Mr. Collins,\" cried Elizabeth with some warmth, \"you\n\
puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear\n\
to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express\n\
my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one.\"\n\
\n\
\"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that\n\
your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My\n\
reasons for believing it are briefly these: It does not appear\n\
to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the\n\
establishment I can offer would be any other than highly\n\
desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family\n\
of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances\n\
highly in my favour; and you should take it into further\n\
consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is\n\
by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be\n\
made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in\n\
all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable\n\
qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not\n\
serious in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it\n\
to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the\n\
usual practice of elegant females.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that\n\
kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man.\n\
I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere.\n\
I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in\n\
your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My\n\
feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not\n\
consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you,\n\
but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are uniformly charming!\" cried he, with an air of awkward\n\
gallantry; \"and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the\n\
express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals\n\
will not fail of being acceptable.\"\n\
\n\
To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would\n\
make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew;\n\
determined, if he persisted in considering her repeated\n\
refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply to her father,\n\
whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as to be\n\
decisive, and whose behavior at least could not be mistaken\n\
for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 20\n\
\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his\n\
successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the\n\
vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw\n\
Elizabeth open the door and with quick step pass her towards\n\
the staircase, than she entered the breakfast-room, and\n\
congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy\n\
prospect or their nearer connection. Mr. Collins received and\n\
returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then\n\
proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the\n\
result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied,\n\
since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him\n\
would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuine\n\
delicacy of her character.\n\
\n\
This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet; she would\n\
have been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had\n\
meant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals,\n\
but she dared not believe it, and could not help saying so.\n\
\n\
\"But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins,\" she added, \"that Lizzy shall\n\
be brought to reason. I will speak to her about it directly.\n\
She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her\n\
own interest but I will _make_ her know it.\"\n\
\n\
\"Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,\" cried Mr. Collins;\n\
\"but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether\n\
she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my\n\
situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage\n\
state. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit,\n\
perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me,\n\
because if liable to such defects of temper, she could not\n\
contribute much to my felicity.\"\n\
\n\
\"Sir, you quite misunderstand me,\" said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed.\n\
\"Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything\n\
else she is as good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go\n\
directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her,\n\
I am sure.\"\n\
\n\
She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to\n\
her husband, called out as she entered the library, \"Oh! Mr.\n\
Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar.\n\
You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows\n\
she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will\n\
change his mind and not have _her_.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and\n\
fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in\n\
the least altered by her communication.\n\
\n\
\"I have not the pleasure of understanding you,\" said he, when\n\
she had finished her speech. \"Of what are you talking?\"\n\
\n\
\"Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have\n\
Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not\n\
have Lizzy.\"\n\
\n\
\"And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopeless\n\
business.\"\n\
\n\
\"Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon\n\
her marrying him.\"\n\
\n\
\"Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and <NAME> was summoned to\n\
the library.\n\
\n\
\"Come here, child,\" cried her father as she appeared. \"I have\n\
sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr.\n\
Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?\" Elizabeth\n\
replied that it was. \"Very well--and this offer of marriage you\n\
have refused?\"\n\
\n\
\"I have, sir.\"\n\
\n\
\"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists\n\
upon your accepting it. Is it not so, <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, or I will never see her again.\"\n\
\n\
\"An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day\n\
you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will\n\
never see you again if you do _not_ marry <NAME>, and I will\n\
never see you again if you _do_.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a\n\
beginning, but <NAME>, who had persuaded herself that her\n\
husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively\n\
disappointed.\n\
\n\
\"What do you mean, <NAME>, in talking this way? You\n\
promised me to _insist_ upon her marrying him.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear,\" replied her husband, \"I have two small favours to\n\
request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my\n\
understanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of my\n\
room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as\n\
may be.\"\n\
\n\
Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband,\n\
did Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again\n\
and again; coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured\n\
to secure Jane in her interest; but Jane, with all possible\n\
mildness, declined interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes with\n\
real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to\n\
her attacks. Though her manner varied, however, her determination\n\
never did.\n\
\n\
<NAME>, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had\n\
passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what\n\
motives his cousin could refuse him; and though his pride was\n\
hurt, he suffered in no other way. His regard for her was quite\n\
imaginary; and the possibility of her deserving her mother\'s\n\
reproach prevented his feeling any regret.\n\
\n\
While the family were in this confusion, <NAME> came to\n\
spend the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia,\n\
who, flying to her, cried in a half whisper, \"I am glad you are\n\
come, for there is such fun here! What do you think has\n\
happened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy,\n\
and she will not have him.\"\n\
\n\
Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by\n\
Kitty, who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they\n\
entered the breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than\n\
she likewise began on the subject, calling on <NAME> for her\n\
compassion, and entreating her to persuade her friend Lizzy to\n\
comply with the wishes of all her family. \"Pray do, my dear\n\
<NAME>,\" she added in a melancholy tone, \"for nobody is on\n\
my side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used, nobody\n\
feels for my poor nerves.\"\n\
\n\
Charlotte\'s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and\n\
Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"Aye, there she comes,\" continued Mrs. Bennet, \"looking as\n\
unconcerned as may be, and caring no more for us than if we\n\
were at York, provided she can have her own way. But I tell\n\
you, <NAME>--if you take it into your head to go on refusing\n\
every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband\n\
at all--and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you\n\
when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you--and\n\
so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told\n\
you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you\n\
again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no\n\
pleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have much\n\
pleasure, indeed, in talking to anybody. People who suffer as\n\
I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for\n\
talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so.\n\
Those who do not complain are never pitied.\"\n\
\n\
Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible\n\
that any attempt to reason with her or soothe her would only\n\
increase the irritation. She talked on, therefore, without\n\
interruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr.\n\
Collins, who entered the room with an air more stately than\n\
usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls, \"Now, I do\n\
insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and\n\
let me and Mr. Collins have a little conversation together.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty\n\
followed, but Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she\n\
could; and Charlotte, detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins,\n\
whose inquiries after herself and all her family were very minute,\n\
and then by a little curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to\n\
the window and pretending not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs.\n\
Bennet began the projected conversation: \"Oh! Mr. Collins!\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear madam,\" replied he, \"let us be for ever silent on this\n\
point. Far be it from me,\" he presently continued, in a voice that\n\
marked his displeasure, \"to resent the behaviour of your daughter.\n\
Resignation to inevitable evils is the evil duty of us all; the\n\
peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I\n\
have been in early preferment; and I trust I am resigned.\n\
Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive\n\
happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for I\n\
have often observed that resignation is never so perfect as when\n\
the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our\n\
estimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any\n\
disrespect to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing\n\
my pretensions to your daughter\'s favour, without having paid\n\
yourself and Mr. Bennet the compliment of requesting you to\n\
interpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may, I fear,\n\
be objectionable in having accepted my dismission from your\n\
daughter\'s lips instead of your own. But we are all liable to\n\
error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My\n\
object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with\n\
due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if\n\
my _manner_ has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to\n\
apologise.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 21\n\
\n\
\n\
The discussion of Mr. Collins\'s offer was now nearly at an end,\n\
and Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings\n\
necessarily attending it, and occasionally from some peevish\n\
allusions of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, _his_\n\
feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or\n\
dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by stiffness of manner\n\
and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and the\n\
assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of himself\n\
were transferred for the rest of the day to <NAME>, whose\n\
civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all,\n\
and especially to her friend.\n\
\n\
The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet\'s ill-humour\n\
or ill health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry\n\
pride. Elizabeth had hoped that his resentment might shorten his\n\
visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by it.\n\
He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he meant\n\
to stay.\n\
\n\
After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr.\n\
Wickham were returned, and to lament over his absence from\n\
the Netherfield ball. He joined them on their entering the town,\n\
and attended them to their aunt\'s where his regret and vexation,\n\
and the concern of everybody, was well talked over. To\n\
Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged that the\n\
necessity of his absence _had_ been self-imposed.\n\
\n\
\"I found,\" said he, \"as the time drew near that I had better not\n\
meet Mr. Darcy; that to be in the same room, the same party\n\
with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could\n\
bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than\n\
myself.\"\n\
\n\
She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a\n\
full discussion of it, and for all the commendation which they\n\
civilly bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer\n\
walked back with them to Longbourn, and during the walk he\n\
particularly attended to her. His accompanying them was a\n\
double advantage; she felt all the compliment it offered to\n\
herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing\n\
him to her father and mother.\n\
\n\
Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to <NAME>;\n\
it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of\n\
elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady\'s fair,\n\
flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister\'s countenance change\n\
as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular\n\
passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter\n\
away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general\n\
conversation; but Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which\n\
drew off her attention even from Wickham; and no sooner had\n\
he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane\n\
invited her to follow her upstairs. When they had gained their\n\
own room, Jane, taking out the letter, said:\n\
\n\
\"This is from <NAME>; what it contains has surprised me\n\
a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time,\n\
and are on their way to town--and without any intention of coming\n\
back again. You shall hear what she says.\"\n\
\n\
She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the\n\
information of their having just resolved to follow their brother\n\
to town directly, and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor\n\
Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next was in these\n\
words: \"I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in\n\
Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we\n\
will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that\n\
delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may\n\
lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most\n\
unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.\" To\n\
these highflown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the\n\
insensibility of distrust; and though the suddenness of their\n\
removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really to lament;\n\
it was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield\n\
would prevent Mr. Bingley\'s being there; and as to the loss of\n\
their society, she was persuaded that Jane must cease to regard\n\
it, in the enjoyment of his.\n\
\n\
\"It is unlucky,\" said she, after a short pause, \"that you should\n\
not be able to see your friends before they leave the country.\n\
But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to\n\
which <NAME> looks forward may arrive earlier than she is\n\
aware, and that the delightful intercourse you have known as\n\
friends will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as sisters?\n\
Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them.\"\n\
\n\
\"Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into\n\
Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you:\"\n\
\n\
\"When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the\n\
business which took him to London might be concluded in three\n\
or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the\n\
same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be\n\
in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following\n\
him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours\n\
in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already\n\
there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest\n\
friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd--but of\n\
that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire\n\
may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings,\n\
and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your\n\
feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is evident by this,\" added Jane, \"that he comes back no more\n\
this winter.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is only evident that <NAME> does not mean that he\n\
_should_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his\n\
own master. But you do not know _all_. I _will_ read you the\n\
passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves\n\
from _you_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the\n\
truth, _we_ are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do\n\
not think <NAME> has her equal for beauty, elegance,\n\
and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa\n\
and myself is heightened into something still more interesting,\n\
from the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our\n\
sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you\n\
my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country\n\
without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them\n\
unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will\n\
have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most\n\
intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as\n\
his own; and a sister\'s partiality is not misleading me, I think,\n\
when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman\'s\n\
heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and\n\
nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging\n\
the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?\"\n\
\n\
\"What do you think of _this_ sentence, my dear Lizzy?\" said\n\
Jane as she finished it. \"Is it not clear enough? Does it not\n\
expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to\n\
be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother\'s\n\
indifference; and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings\n\
for him, she means (most kindly!) to put me on my guard? Can\n\
there be any other opinion on the subject?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?\"\n\
\n\
\"Most willingly.\"\n\
\n\
\"You shall have it in a few words. <NAME> sees that her\n\
brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry <NAME>.\n\
She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries\n\
to persuade you that he does not care about you.\"\n\
\n\
Jane shook her head.\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever\n\
seen you together can doubt his affection. <NAME>, I am\n\
sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen\n\
half as much love in <NAME> for herself, she would have\n\
ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this: We are not\n\
rich enough or grand enough for them; and she is the more\n\
anxious to get <NAME> for her brother, from the notion that\n\
when there has been _one_ intermarriage, she may have less\n\
trouble in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some\n\
ingenuity, and I dare say it would succeed, if <NAME>\n\
were out of the way. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously\n\
imagine that because <NAME> tells you her brother greatly\n\
admires <NAME>, he is in the smallest degree less sensible\n\
of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday, or\n\
that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead of\n\
being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.\"\n\
\n\
\"If we thought alike of <NAME>,\" replied Jane, \"your\n\
representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know\n\
the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully\n\
deceiving anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is that\n\
she is deceiving herself.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea,\n\
since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be\n\
deceived, by all means. You have now done your duty by her,\n\
and must fret no longer.\"\n\
\n\
\"But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in\n\
accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to\n\
marry elsewhere?\"\n\
\n\
\"You must decide for yourself,\" said Elizabeth; \"and if, upon\n\
mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his\n\
two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his\n\
wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him.\"\n\
\n\
\"How can you talk so?\" said Jane, faintly smiling. \"You must\n\
know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their\n\
disapprobation, I could not hesitate.\"\n\
\n\
\"I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot\n\
consider your situation with much compassion.\"\n\
\n\
\"But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be\n\
required. A thousand things may arise in six months!\"\n\
\n\
The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the\n\
utmost contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of\n\
Caroline\'s interested wishes, and she could not for a moment\n\
suppose that those wishes, however openly or artfully spoken,\n\
could influence a young man so totally independent of everyone.\n\
\n\
She represented to her sister as forcibly as possible what she\n\
felt on the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its\n\
happy effect. Jane\'s temper was not desponding, and she was\n\
gradually led to hope, though the diffidence of affection\n\
sometimes overcame the hope, that Bingley would return to\n\
Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart.\n\
\n\
They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure\n\
of the family, without being alarmed on the score of the\n\
gentleman\'s conduct; but even this partial communication gave\n\
her a great deal of concern, and she bewailed it as exceedingly\n\
unlucky that the ladies should happen to go away just as they\n\
were all getting so intimate together. After lamenting it,\n\
however, at some length, she had the consolation that Mr.\n\
Bingley would be soon down again and soon dining at Longbourn,\n\
and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration,\n\
that though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she\n\
would take care to have two full courses.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 22\n\
\n\
\n\
The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases and again\n\
during the chief of the day was <NAME> so kind as to listen\n\
to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her.\n\
\"It keeps him in good humour,\" said she, \"and I am more obliged\n\
to you than I can express.\" Charlotte assured her friend of\n\
her satisfaction in being useful, and that it amply repaid her\n\
for the little sacrifice of her time. This was very amiable,\n\
but Charlotte\'s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth had\n\
any conception of; its object was nothing else than to secure\n\
her from any return of Mr. Collins\'s addresses, by engaging\n\
them towards herself. Such was M<NAME>as\'s scheme; and\n\
appearances were so favourable, that when they parted at night,\n\
she would have felt almost secure of success if he had not been\n\
to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. But here she did injustice\n\
to the fire and independence of his character, for it led\n\
him to escape out of Longbourn House the next morning with\n\
admirable slyness, and hasten to <NAME> to throw himself\n\
at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins,\n\
from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not\n\
fail to conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have\n\
the attempt known till its success might be known likewise; for\n\
though feeling almost secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had\n\
been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively diffident since\n\
the adventure of Wednesday. His reception, however, was of\n\
the most flattering kind. <NAME> perceived him from an\n\
upper window as he walked towards the house, and instantly set\n\
out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had she\n\
dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.\n\
\n\
In as short a time as Mr. Collins\'s long speeches would allow,\n\
everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both;\n\
and as they entered the house he earnestly entreated her to name\n\
the day that was to make him the happiest of men; and though\n\
such a solicitation must be waived for the present, the lady felt\n\
no inclination to trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with\n\
which he was favoured by nature must guard his courtship from\n\
any charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance;\n\
and <NAME>, who accepted him solely from the pure and\n\
disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon\n\
that establishment were gained.\n\
\n\
Sir William and <NAME> were speedily applied to for their\n\
consent; and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr.\n\
Collins\'s present circumstances made it a most eligible match for\n\
their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune; and his\n\
prospects of future wealth were exceedingly fair. <NAME>\n\
began directly to calculate, with more interest than the\n\
matter had ever excited before, how many years longer Mr.\n\
Bennet was likely to live; and <NAME> gave it as his decided\n\
opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins should be in possession of the\n\
Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient that both he and\n\
his wife should make their appearance at <NAME>\'s. The whole\n\
family, in short, were properly overjoyed on the occasion.\n\
The younger girls formed hopes of _coming out_ a year or two\n\
sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were\n\
relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte\'s dying an old\n\
maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had\n\
gained her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections\n\
were in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins, to be sure, was\n\
neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome, and his\n\
attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would be her\n\
husband. Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony,\n\
marriage had always been her object; it was the only provision\n\
for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however\n\
uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest\n\
preservative from want. This preservative she had now\n\
obtained; and at the age of twenty-seven, without having ever\n\
been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it. The least\n\
agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise it must\n\
occasion to <NAME>, whose friendship she valued\n\
beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and\n\
probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to\n\
be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation.\n\
She resolved to give her the information herself, and therefore\n\
charged Mr. Collins, when he returned to Longbourn to dinner,\n\
to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family. A\n\
promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it\n\
could not be kept without difficulty; for the curiosity excited\n\
by his long absence burst forth in such very direct questions on\n\
his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the\n\
same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to\n\
publish his prosperous love.\n\
\n\
As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see\n\
any of the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed\n\
when the ladies moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with\n\
great politeness and cordiality, said how happy they should be\n\
to see him at Longbourn again, whenever his engagements might\n\
allow him to visit them.\n\
\n\
\"My dear madam,\" he replied, \"this invitation is particularly\n\
gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and\n\
you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon\n\
as possible.\"\n\
\n\
They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no\n\
means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said:\n\
\n\
\"But is there not danger of Lady Catherine\'s disapprobation\n\
here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than\n\
run the risk of offending your patroness.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear sir,\" replied Mr. Collins, \"I am particularly obliged\n\
to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not\n\
taking so material a step without her ladyship\'s concurrence.\"\n\
\n\
\"You cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything\n\
rather than her displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised\n\
by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly\n\
probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that _we_ shall\n\
take no offence.\"\n\
\n\
\"Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by\n\
such affectionate attention; and depend upon it, you will speedily\n\
receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other\n\
mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my\n\
fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to\n\
render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them\n\
health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth.\"\n\
\n\
With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them\n\
equally surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet\n\
wished to understand by it that he thought of paying his\n\
addresses to one of her younger girls, and Mary might have been\n\
prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher\n\
than any of the others; there was a solidity in his reflections\n\
which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as\n\
herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve\n\
himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very\n\
agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every\n\
hope of this kind was done away. <NAME> called soon after\n\
breakfast, and in a private conference with Elizabeth related the\n\
event of the day before.\n\
\n\
The possibility of Mr. Collins\'s fancying himself in love with her\n\
friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two;\n\
but that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far\n\
from possibility as she could encourage him herself, and her\n\
astonishment was consequently so great as to overcome at first\n\
the bounds of decorum, and she could not help crying out:\n\
\n\
\"Engaged to <NAME>! My dear Charlotte--impossible!\"\n\
\n\
The steady countenance which <NAME> had commanded in\n\
telling her story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on\n\
receiving so direct a reproach; though, as it was no more than\n\
she expected, she soon regained her composure, and calmly\n\
replied:\n\
\n\
\"Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it\n\
incredible that <NAME> should be able to procure any\n\
woman\'s good opinion, because he was not so happy as to\n\
succeed with you?\"\n\
\n\
But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a strong\n\
effort for it, was able to assure with tolerable firmness that the\n\
prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and\n\
that she wished her all imaginable happiness.\n\
\n\
\"I see what you are feeling,\" replied Charlotte. \"You must be\n\
surprised, very much surprised--so lately as <NAME> was\n\
wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it\n\
over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am\n\
not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable\n\
home; and considering Mr. Collins\'s character, connection, and\n\
situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness\n\
with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the\n\
marriage state.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth quietly answered \"Undoubtedly;\" and after an\n\
awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family.\n\
Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was then left\n\
to reflect on what she had heard. It was a long time before she\n\
became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match.\n\
The strangeness of Mr. Collins\'s making two offers of marriage\n\
within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now\n\
accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte\'s opinion of\n\
matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she had not\n\
supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she\n\
would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage.\n\
Charlotte the wife of Mr. Collins was a most humiliating picture!\n\
And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her\n\
esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was\n\
impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot\n\
she had chosen.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 23\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on\n\
what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to\n\
mention it, when Sir <NAME> himself appeared, sent by his\n\
daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many\n\
compliments to them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect\n\
of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter--to\n\
an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs.\n\
Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he\n\
must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and\n\
often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:\n\
\n\
\"Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not\n\
you know that <NAME> wants to marry Lizzy?\"\n\
\n\
Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have\n\
borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William\'s good\n\
breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave\n\
to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened\n\
to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so\n\
unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his\n\
account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte\n\
herself; and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her\n\
mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to\n\
Sir William, in which she was readily joined by Jane, and by\n\
making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be\n\
expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins,\n\
and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great\n\
deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them\n\
than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she\n\
persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she\n\
was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she\n\
trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly,\n\
that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however,\n\
were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Elizabeth was\n\
the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she herself had\n\
been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points\n\
she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could\n\
console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear\n\
out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see\n\
Elizabeth without scolding her, a month passed away before she\n\
could speak to Sir William or <NAME> without being rude,\n\
and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their\n\
daughter.\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet\'s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion,\n\
and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most\n\
agreeable sort; for it gratified him, he said, to discover that\n\
<NAME>, whom he had been used to think tolerably\n\
sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his\n\
daughter!\n\
\n\
Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she\n\
said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their\n\
happiness; nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as\n\
improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying <NAME>,\n\
for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no\n\
other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton.\n\
\n\
Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to\n\
retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well\n\
married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual\n\
to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet\'s sour looks and\n\
ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness\n\
away.\n\
\n\
Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which\n\
kept them mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt\n\
persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between\n\
them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with\n\
fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy\n\
she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose\n\
happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been\n\
gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return.\n\
\n\
Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was\n\
counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again.\n\
The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on\n\
Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the\n\
solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth\'s abode in the\n\
family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience\n\
on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous\n\
expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of\n\
their amiable neighbour, <NAME>, and then explained that it\n\
was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had\n\
been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again\n\
at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday\n\
fortnight; for <NAME>, he added, so heartily approved\n\
his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible,\n\
which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his\n\
amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the\n\
happiest of men.\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins\'s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter\n\
of pleasure to <NAME>. On the contrary, she was as much\n\
disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange\n\
that he should come to Longbourn instead of to <NAME>; it\n\
was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She\n\
hated having visitors in the house while her health was so\n\
indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable.\n\
Such were the gentle murmurs of <NAME>, and they gave way\n\
only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley\'s continued absence.\n\
\n\
Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject.\n\
Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of\n\
him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his\n\
coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which\n\
highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to\n\
contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.\n\
\n\
Even Elizabeth began to fear--not that Bingley was indifferent--but\n\
that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away.\n\
Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane\'s\n\
happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she\n\
could not prevent its frequently occurring. The united efforts of\n\
his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted\n\
by the attractions of <NAME> and the amusements of London\n\
might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment.\n\
\n\
As for Jane, _her_ anxiety under this suspense was, of course,\n\
more painful than Elizabeth\'s, but whatever she felt she was\n\
desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth,\n\
therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such\n\
delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which\n\
she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival,\n\
or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back she\n\
would think herself very ill used. It needed all Jane\'s steady\n\
mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, but\n\
his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had\n\
been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to\n\
need much attention; and luckily for the others, the business\n\
of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company.\n\
The chief of every day was spent by him at <NAME>, and he\n\
sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an\n\
apology for his absence before the family went to bed.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very\n\
mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an\n\
agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went she was sure of\n\
hearing it talked of. The sight of <NAME> was odious to\n\
her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with\n\
jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them,\n\
she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession;\n\
and whenever she spoke in a low voice to <NAME>, was\n\
convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and\n\
resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house,\n\
as soon as Mr. Bennet were dead. She complained bitterly of\n\
all this to her husband.\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, Mr. Bennet,\" said she, \"it is very hard to think that\n\
<NAME> should ever be mistress of this house, that I\n\
should be forced to make way for _her_, and live to see her take\n\
her place in it!\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us\n\
hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be\n\
the survivor.\"\n\
\n\
This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and therefore, instead\n\
of making any answer, she went on as before.\n\
\n\
\"I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate.\n\
If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it.\"\n\
\n\
\"What should not you mind?\"\n\
\n\
\"I should not mind anything at all.\"\n\
\n\
\"Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such\n\
insensibility.\"\n\
\n\
\"I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the\n\
entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an\n\
estate from one\'s own daughters, I cannot understand; and all\n\
for the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should _he_ have it more\n\
than anybody else?\"\n\
\n\
\"I leave it to yourself to determine,\" said Mr. Bennet.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 24\n\
\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very\n\
first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled\n\
in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother\'s regret\n\
at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in\n\
Hertfordshire before he left the country.\n\
\n\
Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the\n\
rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection\n\
of the writer, that could give her any comfort. <NAME>\'s\n\
praise occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again\n\
dwelt on, and Caroline boasted joyfully of their increasing\n\
intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the\n\
wishes which had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote\n\
also with great pleasure of her brother\'s being an inmate of Mr.\n\
Darcy\'s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the\n\
latter with regard to new furniture.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of\n\
all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided\n\
between concern for her sister, and resentment against all others.\n\
To Caroline\'s assertion of her brother\'s being partial to Miss\n\
Darcy she paid no credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she\n\
doubted no more than she had ever done; and much as she had\n\
always been disposed to like him, she could not think without\n\
anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that\n\
want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of his\n\
designing friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happiness\n\
to the caprice of their inclination. Had his own happiness,\n\
however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to\n\
sport with it in whatever manner he thought best, but her sister\'s\n\
was involved in it, as she thought he must be sensible himself.\n\
It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long\n\
indulged, and must be unavailing. She could think of nothing\n\
else; and yet whether Bingley\'s regard had really died away, or\n\
were suppressed by his friends\' interference; whether he had\n\
been aware of Jane\'s attachment, or whether it had escaped his\n\
observation; whatever were the case, though her opinion of him\n\
must be materially affected by the difference, her sister\'s\n\
situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.\n\
\n\
A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her\n\
feelings to Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet\'s leaving them\n\
together, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfield\n\
and its master, she could not help saying:\n\
\n\
\"Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She\n\
can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual\n\
reflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long.\n\
He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but\n\
said nothing.\n\
\n\
\"You doubt me,\" cried Jane, slightly colouring; \"indeed, you\n\
have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable\n\
man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either\n\
to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I\n\
have not _that_ pain. A little time, therefore--I shall certainly\n\
try to get the better.\"\n\
\n\
With a stronger voice she soon added, \"I have this comfort\n\
immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on\n\
my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear Jane!\" exclaimed Elizabeth, \"you are too good. Your\n\
sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know\n\
what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or\n\
loved you as you deserve.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and\n\
threw back the praise on her sister\'s warm affection.\n\
\n\
\"Nay,\" said Elizabeth, \"this is not fair. _You_ wish to think all\n\
the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I\n\
only want to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it.\n\
Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching\n\
on your privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There\n\
are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think\n\
well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied\n\
with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of\n\
all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be\n\
placed on the appearance of merit or sense. I have met with two\n\
instances lately, one I will not mention; the other is Charlotte\'s\n\
marriage. It is unaccountable! In every view it is unaccountable!\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They\n\
will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough\n\
for difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins\'s\n\
respectability, and Charlotte\'s steady, prudent character.\n\
Remember that she is one of a large family; that as to fortune,\n\
it is a most eligible match; and be ready to believe, for\n\
everybody\'s sake, that she may feel something like regard and\n\
esteem for our cousin.\"\n\
\n\
\"To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no\n\
one else could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I\n\
persuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only\n\
think worse of her understanding than I now do of her heart.\n\
My dear Jane, <NAME> is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded,\n\
silly man; you know he is, as well as I do; and you must feel,\n\
as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannot have a\n\
proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though it is\n\
<NAME>. You shall not, for the sake of one individual,\n\
change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to\n\
persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and\n\
insensibility of danger security for happiness.\"\n\
\n\
\"I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,\"\n\
replied Jane; \"and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing\n\
them happy together. But enough of this. You alluded to\n\
something else. You mentioned _two_ instances. I cannot\n\
misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain\n\
me by thinking _that person_ to blame, and saying your opinion\n\
of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves\n\
intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to\n\
be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing\n\
but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration\n\
means more than it does.\"\n\
\n\
\"And men take care that they should.\"\n\
\n\
\"If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no\n\
idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons\n\
imagine.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley\'s conduct to\n\
design,\" said Elizabeth; \"but without scheming to do wrong, or\n\
to make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may be\n\
misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people\'s\n\
feelings, and want of resolution, will do the business.\"\n\
\n\
\"And do you impute it to either of those?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying\n\
what I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can.\"\n\
\n\
\"You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, in conjunction with his friend.\"\n\
\n\
\"I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him?\n\
They can only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me,\n\
no other woman can secure it.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides\n\
his happiness; they may wish his increase of wealth and\n\
consequence; they may wish him to marry a girl who has all the\n\
importance of money, great connections, and pride.\"\n\
\n\
\"Beyond a doubt, they _do_ wish him to choose <NAME>,\"\n\
replied Jane; \"but this may be from better feelings than you are\n\
supposing. They have known her much longer than they have\n\
known me; no wonder if they love her better. But, whatever\n\
may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have\n\
opposed their brother\'s. What sister would think herself at\n\
liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable?\n\
If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part\n\
us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such\n\
an affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong,\n\
and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not\n\
ashamed of having been mistaken--or, at least, it is light, it\n\
is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill\n\
of him or his sisters. Let me take it in the best light, in\n\
the light in which it may be understood.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time\n\
<NAME>\'s name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning\n\
no more, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did\n\
not account for it clearly, there was little chance of her ever\n\
considering it with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured\n\
to convince her of what she did not believe herself, that his\n\
attentions to Jane had been merely the effect of a common and\n\
transient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more; but\n\
though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time,\n\
she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet\'s best\n\
comfort was that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the\n\
summer.\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. \"So, Lizzy,\" said he\n\
one day, \"your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate\n\
her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little in\n\
love now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives her a\n\
sort of distinction among her companions. When is your turn to\n\
come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is\n\
your time. Here are officers enough in Meryton to disappoint all\n\
the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham be _your_ man. He\n\
is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.\"\n\
\n\
\"Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We\n\
must not all expect Jane\'s good fortune.\"\n\
\n\
\"True,\" said Mr. Bennet, \"but it is a comfort to think that\n\
whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate\n\
mother who will make the most of it.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Wickham\'s society was of material service in dispelling the\n\
gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many\n\
of the Longbourn family. They saw him often, and to his other\n\
recommendations was now added that of general unreserve.\n\
The whole of what Elizabeth had already heard, his claims on\n\
Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was now\n\
openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody\n\
was pleased to know how much they had always disliked Mr.\n\
Darcy before they had known anything of the matter.\n\
\n\
<NAME> was the only creature who could suppose there might\n\
be any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the\n\
society of Hertfordshire; her mild and steady candour always\n\
pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes--but\n\
by everybody else Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 25\n\
\n\
\n\
After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity,\n\
Mr. Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival\n\
of Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be\n\
alleviated on his side, by preparations for the reception of his\n\
bride; as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his return into\n\
Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed that was to make him the\n\
happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn\n\
with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins health\n\
and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of\n\
thanks.\n\
\n\
On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of\n\
receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend\n\
the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible,\n\
gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by\n\
nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had\n\
difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within\n\
view of his own warehouses, could have been so well-bred and\n\
agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than\n\
Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, was an amiable, intelligent,\n\
elegant woman, and a great favourite with all her Longbourn\n\
nieces. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there\n\
subsisted a particular regard. They had frequently been staying\n\
with her in town.\n\
\n\
The first part of Mrs. Gardiner\'s business on her arrival was to\n\
distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When\n\
this was done she had a less active part to play. It became her\n\
turn to listen. <NAME> had many grievances to relate, and\n\
much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she\n\
last saw her sister. Two of her girls had been upon the point of\n\
marriage, and after all there was nothing in it.\n\
\n\
\"I do not blame Jane,\" she continued, \"for Jane would have got\n\
Mr. Bingley if she could. But Lizzy! Oh, sister! It is very hard\n\
to think that she might have been <NAME>\'s wife by this time,\n\
had it not been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer\n\
in this very room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is,\n\
that <NAME> will have a daughter married before I have, and\n\
that the Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever. The\n\
Lucases are very artful people indeed, sister. They are all for\n\
what they can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is.\n\
It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own\n\
family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before\n\
anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the\n\
greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us,\n\
of long sleeves.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME>, to whom the chief of this news had been given\n\
before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth\'s correspondence\n\
with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to\n\
her nieces, turned the conversation.\n\
\n\
When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the\n\
subject. \"It seems likely to have been a desirable match for\n\
Jane,\" said she. \"I am sorry it went off. But these things\n\
happen so often! A young man, such as you describe <NAME>,\n\
so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and\n\
when accident separates them, so easily forgets her, that these\n\
sort of inconsistencies are very frequent.\"\n\
\n\
\"An excellent consolation in its way,\" said Elizabeth, \"but it will\n\
not do for _us_. We do not suffer by _accident_. It does not often\n\
happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young\n\
man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he\n\
was violently in love with only a few days before.\"\n\
\n\
\"But that expression of \'violently in love\' is so hackneyed,\n\
so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea.\n\
It is as often applied to feelings which arise from a half-hour\'s\n\
acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how\n\
_violent was_ Mr. Bingley\'s love?\"\n\
\n\
\"I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite\n\
inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every\n\
time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own\n\
ball he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to\n\
dance; and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer.\n\
Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very\n\
essence of love?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes!--of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt.\n\
Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she\n\
may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to\n\
_you_, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner.\n\
But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with\n\
us? Change of scene might be of service--and perhaps a little\n\
relief from home may be as useful as anything.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt\n\
persuaded of her sister\'s ready acquiescence.\n\
\n\
\"I hope,\" added <NAME>, \"that no consideration with\n\
regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so\n\
different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and,\n\
as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable\n\
that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her.\"\n\
\n\
\"And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of\n\
his friend, and <NAME> would no more suffer him to call on\n\
Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you\n\
think of it? Mr. Darcy may perhaps have _heard_ of such a\n\
place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a\n\
month\'s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were\n\
he once to enter it; and depend upon it, <NAME> never stirs\n\
without him.\"\n\
\n\
\"So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does\n\
not Jane correspond with his sister? _She_ will not be able to\n\
help calling.\"\n\
\n\
\"She will drop the acquaintance entirely.\"\n\
\n\
But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place\n\
this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley\'s\n\
being withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the\n\
subject which convinced her, on examination, that she did not\n\
consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she\n\
thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and\n\
the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more\n\
natural influence of Jane\'s attractions.\n\
\n\
<NAME> accepted her aunt\'s invitation with pleasure; and\n\
the Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time,\n\
than as she hoped by Caroline\'s not living in the same house\n\
with her brother, she might occasionally spend a morning with\n\
her, without any danger of seeing him.\n\
\n\
The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the\n\
Phillipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day\n\
without its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided\n\
for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did\n\
not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was\n\
for home, some of the officers always made part of it--of\n\
which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and on these\n\
occasion, Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth\'s\n\
warm commendation, narrowly observed them both. Without\n\
supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love,\n\
their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a\n\
little uneasy; and she resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the\n\
subject before she left Hertfordshire, and represent to her the\n\
imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.\n\
\n\
To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure,\n\
unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years\n\
ago, before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in\n\
that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had,\n\
therefore, many acquaintances in common; and though Wickham had\n\
been little there since the death of Darcy\'s father, it was yet\n\
in his power to give her fresher intelligence of her former\n\
friends than she had been in the way of procuring.\n\
\n\
M<NAME> had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy\n\
by character perfectly well. Here consequently was an\n\
inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection\n\
of Pemberley with the minute description which Wickham could\n\
give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of\n\
its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself. On\n\
being made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy\'s treatment\n\
of him, she tried to remember some of that gentleman\'s reputed\n\
disposition when quite a lad which might agree with it, and was\n\
confident at last that she recollected having heard Mr.\n\
Fit<NAME> formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured\n\
boy.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 26\n\
\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner\'s caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly\n\
given on the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her\n\
alone; after honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went\n\
on:\n\
\n\
\"You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because\n\
you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of\n\
speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard.\n\
Do not involve yourself or endeavour to involve him in an\n\
affection which the want of fortune would make so very\n\
imprudent. I have nothing to say against _him_; he is a most\n\
interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to\n\
have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you\n\
must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and\n\
we all expect you to use it. Your father would depend on\n\
_your_ resolution and good conduct, I am sure. You must not\n\
disappoint your father.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care\n\
of myself, and of <NAME> too. He shall not be in love with\n\
me, if I can prevent it.\"\n\
\n\
\"Elizabeth, you are not serious now.\"\n\
\n\
\"I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in\n\
love with Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond\n\
all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw--and if he\n\
becomes really attached to me--I believe it will be better that\n\
he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh! _that_ abominable\n\
Mr. Darcy! My father\'s opinion of me does me the greatest\n\
honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father,\n\
however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt,\n\
I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you\n\
unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is\n\
affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want\n\
of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how\n\
can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures\n\
if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be\n\
wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not\n\
to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his\n\
first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be\n\
wishing. In short, I will do my best.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so\n\
very often. At least, you should not _remind_ your mother of\n\
inviting him.\"\n\
\n\
\"As I did the other day,\" said Elizabeth with a conscious smile:\n\
\"very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from _that_. But do\n\
not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your\n\
account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You\n\
know my mother\'s ideas as to the necessity of constant company\n\
for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do\n\
what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied.\"\n\
\n\
Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizabeth having thanked\n\
her for the kindness of her hints, they parted; a wonderful\n\
instance of advice being given on such a point, without being\n\
resented.\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been\n\
quitted by the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took up his abode\n\
with the Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs.\n\
Bennet. His marriage was now fast approaching, and she was at\n\
length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even\n\
repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she \"_wished_ they\n\
might be happy.\" Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on\n\
Wednesday <NAME> paid her farewell visit; and when she\n\
rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother\'s\n\
ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected\n\
herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went\n\
downstairs together, Charlotte said:\n\
\n\
\"I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.\"\n\
\n\
\"_That_ you certainly shall.\"\n\
\n\
\"And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see\n\
me?\"\n\
\n\
\"We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me,\n\
therefore, to come to Hunsford.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure\n\
in the visit.\n\
\n\
\"My father and Maria are coming to me in March,\" added\n\
Charlotte, \"and I hope you will consent to be of the party.\n\
Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome as either of them.\"\n\
\n\
The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for\n\
Kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say,\n\
or to hear, on the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from\n\
her friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent\n\
as it had ever been; that it should be equally unreserved was\n\
impossible. Elizabeth could never address her without feeling\n\
that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined\n\
not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what\n\
had been, rather than what was. Charlotte\'s first letters were\n\
received with a good deal of eagerness; there could not but be\n\
curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how\n\
she would like <NAME>, and how happy she would dare\n\
pronounce herself to be; though, when the letters were read,\n\
Elizabeth felt that Charlotte expressed herself on every point\n\
exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully,\n\
seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which\n\
she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and\n\
roads, were all to her taste, and <NAME>\'s behaviour\n\
was most friendly and obliging. It was <NAME>\'s picture\n\
of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth\n\
perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the\n\
rest.\n\
\n\
Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to announce\n\
their safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth\n\
hoped it would be in her power to say something of the\n\
Bingleys.\n\
\n\
Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as\n\
impatience generally is. Jane had been a week in town without\n\
either seeing or hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it,\n\
however, by supposing that her last letter to her friend from\n\
Longbourn had by some accident been lost.\n\
\n\
\"My aunt,\" she continued, \"is going to-morrow into that part of\n\
the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor\n\
Street.\"\n\
\n\
She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss\n\
Bingley. \"I did not think Caroline in spirits,\" were her words,\n\
\"but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving\n\
her no notice of my coming to London. I was right, therefore,\n\
my last letter had never reached her. I inquired after their\n\
brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr.\n\
Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that <NAME>\n\
was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was\n\
not long, as Caroline and <NAME> were going out. I dare say\n\
I shall see them soon here.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that\n\
accident only could discover to <NAME> her sister\'s being in\n\
town.\n\
\n\
Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She\n\
endeavoured to persuade herself that she did not regret it; but\n\
she could no longer be blind to <NAME>\'s inattention. After\n\
waiting at home every morning for a fortnight, and inventing\n\
every evening a fresh excuse for her, the visitor did at last\n\
appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more, the alteration\n\
of her manner would allow Jane to deceive herself no longer.\n\
The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will\n\
prove what she felt.\n\
\n\
\"My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in\n\
her better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to\n\
have been entirely deceived in M<NAME>\'s regard for me.\n\
But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do\n\
not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what\n\
her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion.\n\
I do not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate\n\
with me; but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I\n\
am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not return my\n\
visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive\n\
in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that she\n\
had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not\n\
calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and\n\
was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went\n\
away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no\n\
longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming her. She was very\n\
wrong in singling me out as she did; I can safely say that every\n\
advance to intimacy began on her side. But I pity her, because\n\
she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am\n\
very sure that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need\n\
not explain myself farther; and though _we_ know this anxiety to\n\
be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily account\n\
for her behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he is to his\n\
sister, whatever anxiety she must feel on his behalf is natural\n\
and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at her having any\n\
such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we\n\
must have met, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am\n\
certain, from something she said herself; and yet it would seem,\n\
by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself\n\
that he is really partial to <NAME>. I cannot understand it.\n\
If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost\n\
tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in\n\
all this. But I will endeavour to banish every painful thought,\n\
and think only of what will make me happy--your affection, and\n\
the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear\n\
from you very soon. <NAME> said something of his never\n\
returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not\n\
with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely\n\
glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at\n\
Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am\n\
sure you will be very comfortable there.--Yours, etc.\"\n\
\n\
This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned as\n\
she considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister\n\
at least. All expectation from the brother was now absolutely\n\
over. She would not even wish for a renewal of his attentions.\n\
His character sunk on every review of it; and as a punishment for\n\
him, as well as a possible advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped\n\
he might really soon marry Mr. Darcy\'s sister, as by Wickham\'s\n\
account, she would make him abundantly regret what he had\n\
thrown away.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise\n\
concerning that gentleman, and required information; and\n\
Elizabeth had such to send as might rather give contentment to\n\
her aunt than to herself. His apparent partiality had subsided,\n\
his attentions were over, he was the admirer of some one else.\n\
Elizabeth was watchful enough to see it all, but she could see it\n\
and write of it without material pain. Her heart had been but\n\
slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied with believing that\n\
_she_ would have been his only choice, had fortune permitted it.\n\
The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most\n\
remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering\n\
himself agreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in\n\
this case than in Charlotte\'s, did not quarrel with him for his\n\
wish of independence. Nothing, on the contrary, could be more\n\
natural; and while able to suppose that it cost him a few struggles\n\
to relinquish her, she was ready to allow it a wise and desirable\n\
measure for both, and could very sincerely wish him happy.\n\
\n\
All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating\n\
the circumstances, she thus went on: \"I am now convinced, my\n\
dear aunt, that I have never been much in love; for had I really\n\
experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present\n\
detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my\n\
feelings are not only cordial towards _him_; they are even\n\
impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find out that I hate her at\n\
all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good\n\
sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My watchfulness\n\
has been effectual; and though I certainly should be a more\n\
interesting object to all my acquaintances were I distractedly\n\
in love with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative\n\
insignificance. Importance may sometimes be purchased too\n\
dearly. Kitty and Lydia take his defection much more to heart\n\
than I do. They are young in the ways of the world, and not\n\
yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men\n\
must have something to live on as well as the plain.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 27\n\
\n\
\n\
With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and\n\
otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton,\n\
sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did January and February\n\
pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had\n\
not at first thought very seriously of going thither; but Charlotte,\n\
she soon found, was depending on the plan and she gradually\n\
learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as\n\
greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing\n\
Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There\n\
was novelty in the scheme, and as, with such a mother and such\n\
uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little\n\
change was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey\n\
would moreover give her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the\n\
time drew near, she would have been very sorry for any delay.\n\
Everything, however, went on smoothly, and was finally settled\n\
according to Charlotte\'s first sketch. She was to accompany Sir\n\
William and his second daughter. The improvement of spending\n\
a night in London was added in time, and the plan became\n\
perfect as plan could be.\n\
\n\
The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly\n\
miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her\n\
going, that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to\n\
answer her letter.\n\
\n\
The farewell between herself and <NAME> was perfectly\n\
friendly; on his side even more. His present pursuit could not\n\
make him forget that Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to\n\
deserve his attention, the first to listen and to pity, the first\n\
to be admired; and in his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing\n\
her every enjoyment, reminding her of what she was to expect in\n\
Lady <NAME>, and trusting their opinion of her--their\n\
opinion of everybody--would always coincide, there was a solicitude,\n\
an interest which she felt must ever attach her to him with a most\n\
sincere regard; and she parted from him convinced that, whether\n\
married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable and\n\
pleasing.\n\
\n\
Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her\n\
think him less agreeable. Sir <NAME>, and his daughter\n\
Maria, a good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself,\n\
had nothing to say that could be worth hearing, and were\n\
listened to with about as much delight as the rattle of the chaise.\n\
Elizabeth loved absurdities, but she had known Sir William\'s too\n\
long. He could tell her nothing new of the wonders of his\n\
presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were worn out,\n\
like his information.\n\
\n\
It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so\n\
early as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove\n\
to Mr. Gardiner\'s door, Jane was at a drawing-room window\n\
watching their arrival; when they entered the passage she was\n\
there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her\n\
face, was pleased to see it healthful and lovely as ever. On the\n\
stairs were a troop of little boys and girls, whose eagerness for\n\
their cousin\'s appearance would not allow them to wait in the\n\
drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her for\n\
a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and\n\
kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in\n\
bustle and shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first object was\n\
her sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in\n\
reply to her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled\n\
to support her spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was\n\
reasonable, however, to hope that they would not continue long.\n\
Mrs. Gardiner gave her the particulars also of <NAME>\'s\n\
visit in Gracechurch Street, and repeated conversations\n\
occurring at different times between Jane and herself, which\n\
proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the\n\
acquaintance.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham\'s desertion,\n\
and complimented her on bearing it so well.\n\
\n\
\"But my dear Elizabeth,\" she added, \"what sort of girl is Miss\n\
King? I should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.\"\n\
\n\
\"Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial\n\
affairs, between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where\n\
does discretion end, and avarice begin? Last Christmas you\n\
were afraid of his marrying me, because it would be imprudent;\n\
and now, because he is trying to get a girl with only ten\n\
thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is mercenary.\"\n\
\n\
\"If you will only tell me what sort of girl <NAME> is, I shall\n\
know what to think.\"\n\
\n\
\"She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of\n\
her.\"\n\
\n\
\"But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather\'s\n\
death made her mistress of this fortune.\"\n\
\n\
\"No--what should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain\n\
_my_ affections because I had no money, what occasion could\n\
there be for making love to a girl whom he did not care about,\n\
and who was equally poor?\"\n\
\n\
\"But there seems an indelicacy in directing his attentions\n\
towards her so soon after this event.\"\n\
\n\
\"A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those\n\
elegant decorums which other people may observe. If _she_ does\n\
not object to it, why should _we_?\"\n\
\n\
\"_Her_ not objecting does not justify _him_. It only shows her\n\
being deficient in something herself--sense or feeling.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well,\" cried Elizabeth, \"have it as you choose. _He_ shall be\n\
mercenary, and _she_ shall be foolish.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, Lizzy, that is what I do _not_ choose. I should be sorry,\n\
you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in\n\
Derbyshire.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men\n\
who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live\n\
in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all.\n\
Thank Heaven! I am going to-morrow where I shall find a man\n\
who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor\n\
sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth\n\
knowing, after all.\"\n\
\n\
\"Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.\"\n\
\n\
Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she\n\
had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her\n\
uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking\n\
in the summer.\n\
\n\
\"We have not determined how far it shall carry us,\" said Mrs.\n\
Gardiner, \"but, perhaps, to the Lakes.\"\n\
\n\
No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and\n\
her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful.\n\
\"Oh, my dear, dear aunt,\" she rapturously cried, \"what delight!\n\
what felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to\n\
disappointment and spleen. What are young men to rocks and\n\
mountains? Oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! And\n\
when we _do_ return, it shall not be like other travellers,\n\
without being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We\n\
_will_ know where we have gone--we _will_ recollect what we have\n\
seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together\n\
in our imaginations; nor when we attempt to describe any\n\
particular scene, will we begin quarreling about its relative\n\
situation. Let _our_ first effusions be less insupportable than\n\
those of the generality of travellers.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 28\n\
\n\
\n\
Every object in the next day\'s journey was new and interesting\n\
to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment; for\n\
she had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for\n\
her health, and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant\n\
source of delight.\n\
\n\
When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye\n\
was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to\n\
bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary\n\
on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she\n\
had heard of its inhabitants.\n\
\n\
At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to\n\
the road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel\n\
hedge, everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and\n\
Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the\n\
small gate which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst\n\
the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were\n\
all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other.\n\
Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure,\n\
and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming when she\n\
found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that\n\
her cousin\'s manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal\n\
civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some\n\
minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after\n\
all her family. They were then, with no other delay than his\n\
pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house;\n\
and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a\n\
second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode,\n\
and punctually repeated all his wife\'s offers of refreshment.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could\n\
not help in fancying that in displaying the good proportion of\n\
the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself\n\
particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she\n\
had lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat\n\
and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of\n\
repentance, and rather looked with wonder at her friend that\n\
she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When\n\
Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be\n\
ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, she involuntarily\n\
turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern\n\
a faint blush; but in general Charlotte wisely did not hear.\n\
After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in\n\
the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account\n\
of their journey, and of all that had happened in London, Mr.\n\
Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was\n\
large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he\n\
attended himself. To work in this garden was one of his most\n\
respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of\n\
countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of\n\
the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible.\n\
Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and\n\
scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked\n\
for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left\n\
beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every\n\
direction, and could tell how many tress there were in the most\n\
distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which\n\
the country or kingdom could boast, none were to be compared\n\
with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees\n\
that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It\n\
was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.\n\
\n\
From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two\n\
meadows; but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the\n\
remains of a white frost, turned back; and while Sir William\n\
accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over the\n\
house, extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity\n\
of showing it without her husband\'s help. It was rather small,\n\
but well built and convenient; and everything was fitted up and\n\
arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth\n\
gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be\n\
forgotten, there was really an air of great comfort throughout,\n\
and by Charlotte\'s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed\n\
he must be often forgotten.\n\
\n\
She had already learnt that <NAME> was still in the\n\
country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner,\n\
when Mr. Collins joining in, observed:\n\
\n\
\"Yes, <NAME>, you will have the honour of seeing Lady\n\
<NAME> on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I\n\
need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability\n\
and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured\n\
with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have\n\
scarcely any hesitation in saying she will include you and my\n\
sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during\n\
your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming.\n\
We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to\n\
walk home. Her ladyship\'s carriage is regularly ordered for us.\n\
I _should_ say, one of her ladyship\'s carriages, for she has\n\
several.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME> is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed,\"\n\
added Charlotte, \"and a most attentive neighbour.\"\n\
\n\
\"Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort\n\
of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.\"\n\
\n\
The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire\n\
news, and telling again what had already been written; and when\n\
it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to\n\
meditate upon Charlotte\'s degree of contentment, to understand\n\
her address in guiding, and composure in bearing with, her\n\
husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She\n\
had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor\n\
of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr.\n\
Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings.\n\
A lively imagination soon settled it all.\n\
\n\
About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting\n\
ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the\n\
whole house in confusion; and, after listening a moment, she\n\
heard somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling\n\
loudly after her. She opened the door and met Maria in the\n\
landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out--\n\
\n\
\"Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room,\n\
for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what\n\
it is. Make haste, and come down this moment.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing\n\
more, and down they ran into the dining-room, which fronted\n\
the lane, in quest of this wonder; It was two ladies stopping in\n\
a low phaeton at the garden gate.\n\
\n\
\"And is this all?\" cried Elizabeth. \"I expected at least that the\n\
pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady\n\
Catherine and her daughter.\"\n\
\n\
\"La! my dear,\" said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, \"it is\n\
not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives\n\
with them; the other is <NAME>. Only look at her. She\n\
is quite a little creature. Who would have thought that she could\n\
be so thin and small?\"\n\
\n\
\"She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this\n\
wind. Why does she not come in?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of\n\
favours when <NAME> comes in.\"\n\
\n\
\"I like her appearance,\" said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas.\n\
\"She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well.\n\
She will make him a very proper wife.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in\n\
conversation with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth\'s\n\
high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest\n\
contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly\n\
bowing whenever <NAME> looked that way.\n\
\n\
At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on,\n\
and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner\n\
saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their\n\
good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know\n\
that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 29\n\
\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins\'s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was\n\
complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness\n\
to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility\n\
towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he had wished\n\
for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon,\n\
was such an instance of L<NAME>\'s condescension, as he\n\
knew not how to admire enough.\n\
\n\
\"I confess,\" said he, \"that I should not have been at all surprised\n\
by her ladyship\'s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the\n\
evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of\n\
her affability, that it would happen. But who could have\n\
foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined\n\
that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation,\n\
moreover, including the whole party) so immediately after your\n\
arrival!\"\n\
\n\
\"I am the less surprised at what has happened,\" replied Sir\n\
William, \"from that knowledge of what the manners of the great\n\
really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire.\n\
About the court, such instances of elegant breeding are not\n\
uncommon.\"\n\
\n\
Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning\n\
but their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing\n\
them in what they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms,\n\
so many servants, and so splendid a dinner, might not wholly\n\
overpower them.\n\
\n\
When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to\n\
Elizabeth--\n\
\n\
\"Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your\n\
apparel. <NAME> is far from requiring that elegance of\n\
dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would\n\
advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior\n\
to the rest--there is no occasion for anything more. Lady\n\
Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply\n\
dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.\"\n\
\n\
While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their\n\
different doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady\n\
Catherine very much objected to be kept waiting for her dinner.\n\
Such formidable accounts of her ladyship, and her manner of\n\
living, quite frightened <NAME> who had been little used to\n\
company, and she looked forward to her introduction at Rosings\n\
with as much apprehension as her father had done to his\n\
presentation at St. James\'s.\n\
\n\
As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half\n\
a mile across the park. Every park has its beauty and its\n\
prospects; and Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though\n\
she could not be in such raptures as <NAME> expected the\n\
scene to inspire, and was but slightly affected by his enumeration\n\
of the windows in front of the house, and his relation of what the\n\
glazing altogether had originally cost Sir <NAME>.\n\
\n\
When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria\'s alarm was\n\
every moment increasing, and even Sir William did not look\n\
perfectly calm. Elizabeth\'s courage did not fail her. She had\n\
heard nothing of <NAME> that spoke her awful from any\n\
extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere\n\
stateliness of money or rank she thought she could witness\n\
without trepidation.\n\
\n\
From the entrance-hall, of which <NAME> pointed out, with a\n\
rapturous air, the fine proportion and the finished ornaments,\n\
they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room\n\
where <NAME>, her daughter, and <NAME> were\n\
sitting. Her ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive\n\
them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it with her husband that the\n\
office of introduction should be hers, it was performed in a\n\
proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which\n\
he would have thought necessary.\n\
\n\
In spite of having been at St. James\'s Sir William was so\n\
completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had\n\
but just courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his\n\
seat without saying a word; and his daughter, frightened almost\n\
out of her senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing\n\
which way to look. Elizabeth found herself quite equal to the\n\
scene, and could observe the three ladies before her composedly.\n\
<NAME> was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked\n\
features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was\n\
not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as\n\
to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not\n\
rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she said was\n\
spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance,\n\
and brought <NAME> immediately to Elizabeth\'s mind; and\n\
from the observation of the day altogether, she believed Lady\n\
Catherine to be exactly what he represented.\n\
\n\
When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and\n\
deportment she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she\n\
turned her eyes on the daughter, she could almost have joined\n\
in Maria\'s astonishment at her being so thin and so small. There\n\
was neither in figure nor face any likeness between the ladies.\n\
<NAME> was pale and sickly; her features, though not\n\
plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very little, except in\n\
a low voice, to <NAME>, in whose appearance there was\n\
nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening to\n\
what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before\n\
her eyes.\n\
\n\
After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the\n\
windows to admire the view, <NAME> attending them to\n\
point out its beauties, and <NAME> kindly informing\n\
them that it was much better worth looking at in the summer.\n\
\n\
The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the\n\
servants and all the articles of plate which <NAME> had\n\
promised; and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at\n\
the bottom of the table, by her ladyship\'s desire, and looked as\n\
if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. He carved,\n\
and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dish was\n\
commended, first by him and then by <NAME>, who was now\n\
enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a\n\
manner which Elizabeth wondered <NAME> could bear.\n\
But <NAME> seemed gratified by their excessive admiration,\n\
and gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the\n\
table proved a novelty to them. The party did not supply much\n\
conversation. Elizabeth was ready to speak whenever there was\n\
an opening, but she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de\n\
Bourgh--the former of whom was engaged in listening to Lady\n\
Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all dinner-time.\n\
Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how little Miss\n\
de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing\n\
she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question,\n\
and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.\n\
\n\
When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little\n\
to be done but to hear <NAME> talk, which she did\n\
without any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her\n\
opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved\n\
that she was not used to have her judgement controverted. She\n\
inquired into Charlotte\'s domestic concerns familiarly and\n\
minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as to the management\n\
of them all; told her how everything ought to be regulated in so\n\
small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the care of her\n\
cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was beneath\n\
this great lady\'s attention, which could furnish her with an\n\
occasion of dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse\n\
with Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria\n\
and Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections\n\
she knew the least, and who she observed to Mrs. Collins was a\n\
very genteel, pretty kind of girl. She asked her, at different\n\
times, how many sisters she had, whether they were older or\n\
younger than herself, whether any of them were likely to be\n\
married, whether they were handsome, where they had been\n\
educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her\n\
mother\'s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her\n\
questions but answered them very composedly. <NAME>\n\
then observed,\n\
\n\
\"Your father\'s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For\n\
your sake,\" turning to Charlotte, \"I am glad of it; but otherwise I\n\
see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was\n\
not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh\'s family. Do you\n\
play and sing, <NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
\"A little.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! then--some time or other we shall be happy to hear you.\n\
Our instrument is a capital one, probably superior to----You\n\
shall try it some day. Do your sisters play and sing?\"\n\
\n\
\"One of them does.\"\n\
\n\
\"Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The\n\
Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income\n\
as yours. Do you draw?\"\n\
\n\
\"No, not at all.\"\n\
\n\
\"What, none of you?\"\n\
\n\
\"Not one.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity.\n\
Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the\n\
benefit of masters.\"\n\
\n\
\"My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates\n\
London.\"\n\
\n\
\"Has your governess left you?\"\n\
\n\
\"We never had any governess.\"\n\
\n\
\"No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought\n\
up at home without a governess! I never heard of such a thing.\n\
Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had\n\
not been the case.\n\
\n\
\"Then, who taught you? who attended to you? Without a\n\
governess, you must have been neglected.\"\n\
\n\
\"Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us\n\
as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always\n\
encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary.\n\
Those who chose to be idle, certainly might.\"\n\
\n\
\"Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will prevent, and\n\
if I had known your mother, I should have advised her most\n\
strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be\n\
done in education without steady and regular instruction, and\n\
nobody but a governess can give it. It is wonderful how many\n\
families I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am\n\
always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces\n\
of <NAME> are most delightfully situated through my\n\
means; and it was but the other day that I recommended another\n\
young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me,\n\
and the family are quite delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I\n\
tell you of <NAME>\'s calling yesterday to thank me? She\n\
finds <NAME> a treasure. \'<NAME>,\' said she, \'you\n\
have given me a treasure.\' Are any of your younger sisters out,\n\
<NAME>?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, ma\'am, all.\"\n\
\n\
\"All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only\n\
the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are\n\
married! Your younger sisters must be very young?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps _she_ is full young to\n\
be much in company. But really, ma\'am, I think it would be\n\
very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their\n\
share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have\n\
the means or inclination to marry early. The last-born has as\n\
good a right to the pleasures of youth at the first. And to be\n\
kept back on _such_ a motive! I think it would not be very likely\n\
to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.\"\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word,\" said her ladyship, \"you give your opinion very\n\
decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?\"\n\
\n\
\"With three younger sisters grown up,\" replied Elizabeth,\n\
smiling, \"your ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct\n\
answer; and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature\n\
who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.\n\
\n\
\"You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need\n\
not conceal your age.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am not one-and-twenty.\"\n\
\n\
When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the\n\
card-tables were placed. <NAME>, Sir William, and Mr.\n\
and Mrs. Collins sat down to quadrille; and as <NAME>\n\
chose to play at cassino, the two girls had the honour of\n\
assisting <NAME> to make up her party. Their table was\n\
superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was uttered that did\n\
not relate to the game, except when <NAME> expressed her\n\
fears of <NAME>\'s being too hot or too cold, or having\n\
too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the\n\
other table. <NAME> was generally speaking--stating\n\
the mistakes of the three others, or relating some anecdote of\n\
herself. <NAME> was employed in agreeing to everything\n\
her ladyship said, thanking her for every fish he won, and\n\
apologising if he thought he won too many. Sir William did not\n\
say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes and noble\n\
names.\n\
\n\
When <NAME> and her daughter had played as long as\n\
they chose, the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered\n\
to <NAME>, gratefully accepted and immediately ordered.\n\
The party then gathered round the fire to hear <NAME>\n\
determine what weather they were to have on the morrow. From\n\
these instructions they were summoned by the arrival of the\n\
coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on <NAME>\'s\n\
side and as many bows on Sir William\'s they departed. As soon\n\
as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her\n\
cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings,\n\
which, for Charlotte\'s sake, she made more favourable than it\n\
really was. But her commendation, though costing her some\n\
trouble, could by no means satisfy <NAME>, and he was very\n\
soon obliged to take her ladyship\'s praise into his own hands.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 30\n\
\n\
\n\
Sir William stayed only a week at Hunsford, but his visit was\n\
long enough to convince him of his daughter\'s being most\n\
comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and\n\
such a neighbour as were not often met with. While <NAME>\n\
was with them, <NAME> devoted his morning to driving him\n\
out in his gig, and showing him the country; but when he went\n\
away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and\n\
Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of\n\
her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between\n\
breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in\n\
the garden or in reading and writing, and looking out of the\n\
window in his own book-room, which fronted the road. The\n\
room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth had at\n\
first rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the\n\
dining-parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and\n\
had a more pleasant aspect; but she soon saw that her friend\n\
had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would\n\
undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they\n\
sat in one equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for\n\
the arrangement.\n\
\n\
From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the\n\
lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of\n\
what carriages went along, and how often especially <NAME>\n\
Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming\n\
to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She\n\
not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few\n\
minutes\' conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever\n\
prevailed upon to get out.\n\
\n\
Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to\n\
Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it\n\
necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected that\n\
there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could\n\
not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and then\n\
they were honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing\n\
escaped her observation that was passing in the room during\n\
these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at\n\
their work, and advised them to do it differently; found fault\n\
with the arrangement of the furniture; or detected the housemaid\n\
in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do\n\
it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins\'s joints of\n\
meat were too large for her family.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in\n\
commission of the peace of the county, she was a most active\n\
magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which\n\
were carried to her by Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the\n\
cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or\n\
too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their\n\
differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into\n\
harmony and plenty.\n\
\n\
The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice\n\
a week; and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being\n\
only one card-table in the evening, every such entertainment was\n\
the counterpart of the first. Their other engagements were few,\n\
as the style of living in the neighbourhood in general was beyond\n\
Mr. Collins\'s reach. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth,\n\
and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough;\n\
there were half-hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte,\n\
and the weather was so fine for the time of year that she had\n\
often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and\n\
where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady\n\
Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of\n\
the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one\n\
seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach\n\
of L<NAME>\'s curiosity.\n\
\n\
In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed\n\
away. Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was\n\
to bring an addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small\n\
a circle must be important. Elizabeth had heard soon after her\n\
arrival that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few\n\
weeks, and though there were not many of her acquaintances whom\n\
she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one comparatively\n\
new to look at in their Rosings parties, and she might be amused\n\
in seeing how hopeless <NAME>\'s designs on him were, by\n\
his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined\n\
by <NAME>, who talked of his coming with the greatest\n\
satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration,\n\
and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been\n\
frequently seen by <NAME> and herself.\n\
\n\
His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins\n\
was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges\n\
opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest\n\
assurance of it, and after making his bow as the carriage turned\n\
into the Park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the\n\
following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects.\n\
There were two nephews of <NAME> to require them, for\n\
Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Col<NAME>, the\n\
younger son of his uncle Lord ----, and, to the great surprise\n\
of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentleman\n\
accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband\'s\n\
room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other,\n\
told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding:\n\
\n\
\"I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. <NAME>\n\
would never have come so soon to wait upon me.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the\n\
compliment, before their approach was announced by the\n\
door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered\n\
the room. <NAME>, who led the way, was about\n\
thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the\n\
gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look\n\
in Hertfordshire--paid his compliments, with his usual reserve,\n\
to Mrs. Collins, and whatever might be his feelings toward her\n\
friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth\n\
merely curtseyed to him without saying a word.\n\
\n\
<NAME> entered into conversation directly with\n\
the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very\n\
pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed a slight\n\
observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for\n\
some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however,\n\
his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of Elizabeth after\n\
the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way,\n\
and after a moment\'s pause, added:\n\
\n\
\"My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have\n\
you never happened to see her there?\"\n\
\n\
She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished\n\
to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had\n\
passed between the Bingleys and Jane, and she thought he\n\
looked a little confused as he answered that he had never been\n\
so fortunate as to meet <NAME>. The subject was pursued\n\
no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went away.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 31\n\
\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s manners were very much admired at the\n\
Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably\n\
to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some\n\
days, however, before they received any invitation thither--for\n\
while there were visitors in the house, they could not be\n\
necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the\n\
gentlemen\'s arrival, that they were honoured by such an\n\
attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to\n\
come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very\n\
little of <NAME> or her daughter. <NAME> had\n\
called at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr.\n\
Darcy they had seen only at church.\n\
\n\
The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they\n\
joined the party in <NAME>\'s drawing-room. Her ladyship\n\
received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by\n\
no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and\n\
she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to\n\
them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person\n\
in the room.\n\
\n\
<NAME> seemed really glad to see them; anything\n\
was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins\'s\n\
pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now\n\
seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and\n\
Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books\n\
and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained\n\
in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and\n\
flow, as to draw the attention of <NAME> herself, as well\n\
as of Mr. Darcy. _His_ eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned\n\
towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship,\n\
after a while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged,\n\
for she did not scruple to call out:\n\
\n\
\"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are\n\
talking of? What are you telling <NAME>? Let me hear\n\
what it is.\"\n\
\n\
\"We are speaking of music, madam,\" said he, when no longer\n\
able to avoid a reply.\n\
\n\
\"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my\n\
delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are\n\
speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose,\n\
who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better\n\
natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great\n\
proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to\n\
apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully.\n\
How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister\'s\n\
proficiency.\n\
\n\
\"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,\" said Lady\n\
Catherine; \"and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to\n\
excel if she does not practice a good deal.\"\n\
\n\
\"I assure you, madam,\" he replied, \"that she does not need such\n\
advice. She practises very constantly.\"\n\
\n\
\"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I\n\
next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any\n\
account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music\n\
is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss\n\
Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless\n\
she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument,\n\
she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings\n\
every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson\'s room.\n\
She would be in nobody\'s way, you know, in that part of the house.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt\'s ill-breeding, and\n\
made no answer.\n\
\n\
When coffee was over, <NAME> reminded Elizabeth\n\
of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to\n\
the instrument. He drew a chair near her. <NAME>\n\
listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other\n\
nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and making with\n\
his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself\n\
so as to command a full view of the fair performer\'s countenance.\n\
Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient\n\
pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said:\n\
\n\
\"You mean to frighten me, <NAME>, by coming in all this state\n\
to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister _does_ play\n\
so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to\n\
be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at\n\
every attempt to intimidate me.\"\n\
\n\
\"I shall not say you are mistaken,\" he replied, \"because you\n\
could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming\n\
you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long\n\
enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally\n\
professing opinions which in fact are not your own.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to\n\
<NAME>, \"Your cousin will give you a very pretty\n\
notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am\n\
particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose\n\
my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to\n\
pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy,\n\
it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my\n\
disadvantage in Hertfordshire--and, give me leave to say, very\n\
impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such\n\
things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am not afraid of you,\" said he, smilingly.\n\
\n\
\"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,\" cried\n\
<NAME>. \"I should like to know how he behaves\n\
among strangers.\"\n\
\n\
\"You shall hear then--but prepare yourself for something very\n\
dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire,\n\
you must know, was at a ball--and at this ball, what do you\n\
think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen\n\
were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one\n\
young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy,\n\
you cannot deny the fact.\"\n\
\n\
\"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the\n\
assembly beyond my own party.\"\n\
\n\
\"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well,\n\
<NAME>, what do I play next? My fingers wait your\n\
orders.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps,\" said Darcy, \"I should have judged better, had I\n\
sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend\n\
myself to strangers.\"\n\
\n\
\"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?\" said Elizabeth,\n\
still addressing <NAME>. \"Shall we ask him why a\n\
man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is\n\
ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?\"\n\
\n\
\"I can answer your question,\" said Fitzwilliam, \"without\n\
applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the\n\
trouble.\"\n\
\n\
\"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,\" said\n\
Darcy, \"of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.\n\
I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested\n\
in their concerns, as I often see done.\"\n\
\n\
\"My fingers,\" said Elizabeth, \"do not move over this instrument\n\
in the masterly manner which I see so many women\'s do. They\n\
have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the\n\
same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my\n\
own fault--because I will not take the trouble of practising.\n\
It is not that I do not believe _my_ fingers as capable as any\n\
other woman\'s of superior execution.\"\n\
\n\
Darcy smiled and said, \"You are perfectly right. You have\n\
employed your time much better. No one admitted to the\n\
privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither\n\
of us perform to strangers.\"\n\
\n\
Here they were interrupted by <NAME>, who called out to\n\
know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began\n\
playing again. <NAME> approached, and, after listening\n\
for a few minutes, said to Darcy:\n\
\n\
\"<NAME> would not play at all amiss if she practised more,\n\
and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a\n\
very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to\n\
Anne\'s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her\n\
health allowed her to learn.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to\n\
his cousin\'s praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other\n\
could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of\n\
his behaviour to <NAME> she derived this comfort for\n\
<NAME>, that he might have been just as likely to marry\n\
_her_, had she been his relation.\n\
\n\
<NAME> continued her remarks on Elizabeth\'s performance,\n\
mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste.\n\
Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility,\n\
and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument\n\
till her ladyship\'s carriage was ready to take them all home.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 32\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to\n\
Jane while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into\n\
the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the\n\
certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she\n\
thought it not unlikely to be <NAME>, and under that\n\
apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she\n\
might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened,\n\
and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only,\n\
entered the room.\n\
\n\
He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised\n\
for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all\n\
the ladies were to be within.\n\
\n\
They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were\n\
made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was\n\
absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in\n\
this emergence recollecting _when_ she had seen him last in\n\
Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say\n\
on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed:\n\
\n\
\"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November,\n\
Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr.\n\
Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right,\n\
he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope,\n\
when you left London?\"\n\
\n\
\"Perfectly so, I thank you.\"\n\
\n\
She found that she was to receive no other answer, and, after a\n\
short pause added:\n\
\n\
\"I think I have understood that <NAME> has not much idea of\n\
ever returning to Netherfield again?\"\n\
\n\
\"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may\n\
spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many\n\
friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are\n\
continually increasing.\"\n\
\n\
\"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for\n\
the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for\n\
then we might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps,\n\
<NAME> did not take the house so much for the convenience\n\
of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to\n\
keep it or quit it on the same principle.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should not be surprised,\" said Darcy, \"if he were to give it up\n\
as soon as any eligible purchase offers.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of\n\
his friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined\n\
to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.\n\
\n\
He took the hint, and soon began with, \"This seems a very\n\
comfortable house. <NAME>, I believe, did a great deal to\n\
it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.\"\n\
\n\
\"I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed\n\
her kindness on a more grateful object.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with\n\
one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted\n\
him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an\n\
excellent understanding--though I am not certain that I consider\n\
her marrying <NAME> as the wisest thing she ever did. She\n\
seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is\n\
certainly a very good match for her.\"\n\
\n\
\"It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a\n\
distance of her own family and friends.\"\n\
\n\
\"An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.\"\n\
\n\
\"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a\n\
day\'s journey. Yes, I call it a _very_ easy distance.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should never have considered the distance as one of the\n\
_advantages_ of the match,\" cried Elizabeth. \"I should never\n\
have said Mrs. Collins was settled _near_ her family.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire.\n\
Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I\n\
suppose, would appear far.\"\n\
\n\
As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth fancied\n\
she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane\n\
and Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered:\n\
\n\
\"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near\n\
her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on\n\
many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the\n\
expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil.\n\
But that is not the case _here_. Mr. and <NAME> have a\n\
comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent\n\
journeys--and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself\n\
_near_ her family under less than _half_ the present distance.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> drew his chair a little towards her, and said, \"_You_\n\
cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment.\n\
_You_ cannot have been always at Longbourn.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some\n\
change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper\n\
from the table, and glancing over it, said, in a colder voice:\n\
\n\
\"Are you pleased with Kent?\"\n\
\n\
A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either\n\
side calm and concise--and soon put an end to by the entrance\n\
of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from her walk. The\n\
tete-a-tete surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which\n\
had occasioned his intruding on <NAME>, and after sitting a\n\
few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.\n\
\n\
\"What can be the meaning of this?\" said Charlotte, as soon as he\n\
was gone. \"My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he\n\
would never have called us in this familiar way.\"\n\
\n\
But when Elizabeth told of his silence; it did not seem very\n\
likely, even to Charlotte\'s wishes, to be the case; and after\n\
various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to\n\
proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was\n\
the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were\n\
over. Within doors there was <NAME>, books, and a\n\
billiard-table, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors; and\n\
in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk\n\
to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a\n\
temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day.\n\
They called at various times of the morning, sometimes\n\
separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied\n\
by their aunt. It was plain to them all that <NAME>\n\
came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion\n\
which of course recommended him still more; and Elizabeth was\n\
reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by\n\
his evident admiration of her, of her former favourite George\n\
Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there was\n\
less captivating softness in <NAME>\'s manners, she\n\
believed he might have the best informed mind.\n\
\n\
But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more\n\
difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he\n\
frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his\n\
lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity\n\
rather than of choice--a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure\n\
to himself. He seldom appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins\n\
knew not what to make of him. <NAME>\'s occasionally\n\
laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different,\n\
which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as\n\
she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love,\n\
and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself\n\
seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they\n\
were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without\n\
much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal,\n\
but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an\n\
earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there\n\
were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but\n\
absence of mind.\n\
\n\
She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of\n\
his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea;\n\
and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from\n\
the danger of raising expectations which might only end in\n\
disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt,\n\
that all her friend\'s dislike would vanish, if she could suppose\n\
him to be in her power.\n\
\n\
\n\
In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her\n\
marrying <NAME>. He was beyond comparison the\n\
most pleasant man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in\n\
life was most eligible; but, to counterbalance these advantages,\n\
Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his\n\
cousin could have none at all.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 33\n\
\n\
\n\
More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park,\n\
unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of\n\
the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought,\n\
and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him\n\
at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur\n\
a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a\n\
third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance,\n\
for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries\n\
and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it\n\
necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great\n\
deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of\n\
listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third\n\
rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions--about\n\
her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and\n\
her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins\'s happiness; and that in\n\
speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house,\n\
he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she\n\
would be staying _there_ too. His words seemed to imply it. Could\n\
he have <NAME> in his thoughts? She supposed, if he\n\
meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in\n\
that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad\n\
to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage.\n\
\n\
She was engaged one day as she walked, in perusing Jane\'s last\n\
letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane\n\
had not written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised\n\
by Mr. Darcy, she saw on looking up that <NAME>\n\
was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and\n\
forcing a smile, she said:\n\
\n\
\"I did not know before that you ever walked this way.\"\n\
\n\
\"I have been making the tour of the park,\" he replied, \"as I\n\
generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the\n\
Parsonage. Are you going much farther?\"\n\
\n\
\"No, I should have turned in a moment.\"\n\
\n\
And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the\n\
Parsonage together.\n\
\n\
\"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?\" said she.\n\
\n\
\"Yes--if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his\n\
disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases.\"\n\
\n\
\"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has\n\
at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know\n\
anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he\n\
likes than Mr. Darcy.\"\n\
\n\
\"He likes to have his own way very well,\" replied Colonel\n\
Fitzwilliam. \"But so we all do. It is only that he has better\n\
means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and\n\
many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you\n\
know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence.\"\n\
\n\
\"In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very\n\
little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of\n\
self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by\n\
want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring\n\
anything you had a fancy for?\"\n\
\n\
\"These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I\n\
have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters\n\
of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger\n\
sons cannot marry where they like.\"\n\
\n\
\"Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they\n\
very often do.\"\n\
\n\
\"Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not\n\
many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some\n\
attention to money.\"\n\
\n\
\"Is this,\" thought Elizabeth, \"meant for me?\" and she coloured\n\
at the idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, \"And\n\
pray, what is the usual price of an earl\'s younger son? Unless\n\
the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask\n\
above fifty thousand pounds.\"\n\
\n\
He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To\n\
interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with\n\
what had passed, she soon afterwards said:\n\
\n\
\"I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for\n\
the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does\n\
not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But,\n\
perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is\n\
under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her.\"\n\
\n\
\"No,\" said <NAME>, \"that is an advantage which he\n\
must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship\n\
of <NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
\"Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you\n\
make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies\n\
of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she\n\
has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way.\"\n\
\n\
As she spoke she observed him looking at her earnestly; and\n\
the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed\n\
Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her\n\
that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She\n\
directly replied:\n\
\n\
\"You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and\n\
I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world.\n\
She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance,\n\
<NAME> and <NAME>. I think I have heard you say that\n\
you know them.\"\n\
\n\
\"I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike\n\
man--he is a great friend of Darcy\'s.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! yes,\" said Elizabeth drily; \"Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind\n\
to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.\"\n\
\n\
\"Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy _does_ take care of\n\
him in those points where he most wants care. From something\n\
that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think\n\
Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his\n\
pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the\n\
person meant. It was all conjecture.\"\n\
\n\
\"What is it you mean?\"\n\
\n\
\"It is a circumstance which Darcy could not wish to be generally\n\
known, because if it were to get round to the lady\'s family, it\n\
would be an unpleasant thing.\"\n\
\n\
\"You may depend upon my not mentioning it.\"\n\
\n\
\"And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it\n\
to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he\n\
congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from\n\
the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without\n\
mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected\n\
it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get\n\
into a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to have been\n\
together the whole of last summer.\"\n\
\n\
\"Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?\"\n\
\n\
\"I understood that there were some very strong objections\n\
against the lady.\"\n\
\n\
\"And what arts did he use to separate them?\"\n\
\n\
\"He did not talk to me of his own arts,\" said Fitzwilliam, smiling.\n\
\"He only told me what I have now told you.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling\n\
with indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked\n\
her why she was so thoughtful.\n\
\n\
\"I am thinking of what you have been telling me,\" said she.\n\
\"Your cousin\'s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he\n\
to be the judge?\"\n\
\n\
\"You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the\n\
propriety of his friend\'s inclination, or why, upon his own\n\
judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner\n\
his friend was to be happy. But,\" she continued, recollecting\n\
herself, \"as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to\n\
condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much\n\
affection in the case.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is not an unnatural surmise,\" said Fitzwilliam, \"but it is a\n\
lessening of the honour of my cousin\'s triumph very sadly.\"\n\
\n\
This was spoken jestingly; but it appeared to her so just a picture\n\
of <NAME>, that she would not trust herself with an answer,\n\
and therefore, abruptly changing the conversation talked on\n\
indifferent matters until they reached the Parsonage. There, shut\n\
into her own room, as soon as their visitor left them, she could\n\
think without interruption of all that she had heard. It was not\n\
to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those\n\
with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the\n\
world _two_ men over whom <NAME> could have such boundless\n\
influence. That he had been concerned in the measures taken to\n\
separate Bingley and Jane she had never doubted; but she had\n\
always attributed to <NAME> the principal design and\n\
arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead\n\
him, _he_ was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of\n\
all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He\n\
had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most\n\
affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no one could say\n\
how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.\n\
\n\
\"There were some very strong objections against the lady,\"\n\
were <NAME>\'s words; and those strong objections\n\
probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney,\n\
and another who was in business in London.\n\
\n\
\"To Jane herself,\" she exclaimed, \"there could be no possibility\n\
of objection; all loveliness and goodness as she is!--her\n\
understanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners\n\
captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father,\n\
who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities Mr. Darcy\n\
himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will\n\
probably never each.\" When she thought of her mother, her\n\
confidence gave way a little; but she would not allow that any\n\
objections _there_ had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose\n\
pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from\n\
the want of importance in his friend\'s connections, than from\n\
their want of sense; and she was quite decided, at last, that he\n\
had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly\n\
by the wish of retaining <NAME> for his sister.\n\
\n\
The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on\n\
a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening,\n\
that, added to her unwillingness to see <NAME>, it determined\n\
her not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were\n\
engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was really\n\
unwell, did not press her to go and as much as possible\n\
prevented her husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins could\n\
not conceal his apprehension of <NAME>\'s being rather\n\
displeased by her staying at home.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 34\n\
\n\
\n\
When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate\n\
herself as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her\n\
employment the examination of all the letters which Jane had\n\
written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no actual\n\
complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any\n\
communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost\n\
every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which\n\
had been used to characterise her style, and which, proceeding\n\
from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly\n\
disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded.\n\
Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness,\n\
with an attention which it had hardly received on the first\n\
perusal. Mr. Darcy\'s shameful boast of what misery he had been\n\
able to inflict, gave her a keener sense of her sister\'s\n\
sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his visit\n\
to Rosings was to end on the day after the next--and, a still\n\
greater, that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with\n\
Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her\n\
spirits, by all that affection could do.\n\
\n\
She could not think of Darcy\'s leaving Kent without remembering\n\
that his cousin was to go with him; but <NAME> had\n\
made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable\n\
as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.\n\
\n\
While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound\n\
of the door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the\n\
idea of its being <NAME> himself, who had once\n\
before called late in the evening, and might now come to inquire\n\
particularly after her. But this idea was soon banished, and\n\
her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter\n\
amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In an\n\
hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health,\n\
imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better.\n\
She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few\n\
moments, and then getting up, walked about the room. Elizabeth\n\
was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of\n\
several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner,\n\
and thus began:\n\
\n\
\"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not\n\
be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire\n\
and love you.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared,\n\
coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient\n\
encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long\n\
felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there\n\
were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed; and he\n\
was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride.\n\
His sense of her inferiority--of its being a degradation--of the\n\
family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination, were\n\
dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he\n\
was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.\n\
\n\
In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible\n\
to the compliment of such a man\'s affection, and though her\n\
intentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for\n\
the pain he was to receive; till, roused to resentment by his\n\
subsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. She\n\
tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience,\n\
when he should have done. He concluded with representing to\n\
her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his\n\
endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with\n\
expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her\n\
acceptance of his hand. As he said this, she could easily\n\
see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He _spoke_ of\n\
apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real\n\
security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther,\n\
and, when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she\n\
said:\n\
\n\
\"In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode\n\
to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed,\n\
however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that\n\
obligation should be felt, and if I could _feel_ gratitude, I would\n\
now thank you. But I cannot--I have never desired your good\n\
opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I\n\
am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most\n\
unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short\n\
duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented\n\
the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in\n\
overcoming it after this explanation.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his\n\
eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less\n\
resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with\n\
anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every\n\
feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure,\n\
and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have\n\
attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth\'s feelings dreadful.\n\
At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:\n\
\n\
\"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of\n\
expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so\n\
little _endeavour_ at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of\n\
small importance.\"\n\
\n\
\"I might as well inquire,\" replied she, \"why with so evident a\n\
desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that\n\
you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even\n\
against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility,\n\
if I _was_ uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I\n\
have. Had not my feelings decided against you--had they been\n\
indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that\n\
any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has\n\
been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a\n\
most beloved sister?\"\n\
\n\
As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but\n\
the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting\n\
to interrupt her while she continued:\n\
\n\
\"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive\n\
can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted _there_.\n\
You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal,\n\
if not the only means of dividing them from each other--of\n\
exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and\n\
instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes,\n\
and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.\"\n\
\n\
She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was\n\
listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any\n\
feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of\n\
affected incredulity.\n\
\n\
\"Can you deny that you have done it?\" she repeated.\n\
\n\
With assumed tranquillity he then replied: \"I have no wish of\n\
denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend\n\
from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards _him_\n\
I have been kinder than towards myself.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil\n\
reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to\n\
conciliate her.\n\
\n\
\"But it is not merely this affair,\" she continued, \"on which my\n\
dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion\n\
of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital\n\
which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this\n\
subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act\n\
of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what\n\
misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?\"\n\
\n\
\"You take an eager interest in that gentleman\'s concerns,\" said\n\
Darcy, in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.\n\
\n\
\"Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help\n\
feeling an interest in him?\"\n\
\n\
\"His misfortunes!\" repeated Darcy contemptuously; \"yes, his\n\
misfortunes have been great indeed.\"\n\
\n\
\"And of your infliction,\" cried Elizabeth with energy. \"You\n\
have reduced him to his present state of poverty--comparative\n\
poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must\n\
know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the\n\
best years of his life of that independence which was no less his\n\
due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you can\n\
treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule.\"\n\
\n\
\"And this,\" cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across\n\
the room, \"is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in\n\
which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My\n\
faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But\n\
perhaps,\" added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards\n\
her, \"these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your\n\
pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had\n\
long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter\n\
accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater\n\
policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief\n\
of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by\n\
reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort\n\
is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related.\n\
They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in\n\
the inferiority of your connections?--to congratulate myself on\n\
the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly\n\
beneath my own?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she\n\
tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said:\n\
\n\
\"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of\n\
your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared\n\
the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you\n\
behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.\"\n\
\n\
She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued:\n\
\n\
\"You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible\n\
way that would have tempted me to accept it.\"\n\
\n\
Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with\n\
an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went\n\
on:\n\
\n\
\"From the very beginning--from the first moment, I may almost\n\
say--of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me\n\
with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your\n\
selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the\n\
groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have\n\
built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month\n\
before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I\n\
could ever be prevailed on to marry.\"\n\
\n\
\"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend\n\
your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own\n\
have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your\n\
time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.\"\n\
\n\
And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth\n\
heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the\n\
house.\n\
\n\
The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great. She knew not\n\
how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and\n\
cried for half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on\n\
what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she\n\
should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he\n\
should have been in love with her for so many months! So much\n\
in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections\n\
which had made him prevent his friend\'s marrying her sister,\n\
and which must appear at least with equal force in his own\n\
case--was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired\n\
unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his\n\
abominable pride--his shameless avowal of what he had done with\n\
respect to Jane--his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging,\n\
though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in\n\
which he had mentioned <NAME>, his cruelty towards whom\n\
he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the\n\
consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited. She\n\
continued in very agitated reflections till the sound of Lady\n\
Catherine\'s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to\n\
encounter Charlotte\'s observation, and hurried her away to\n\
her room.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 35\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and\n\
meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could\n\
not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was\n\
impossible to think of anything else; and, totally indisposed\n\
for employment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulge\n\
herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her\n\
favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy\'s sometimes\n\
coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she\n\
turned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpike-road.\n\
The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she\n\
soon passed one of the gates into the ground.\n\
\n\
After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she\n\
was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the\n\
gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now\n\
passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and\n\
every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was\n\
on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse\n\
of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park;\n\
he was moving that way; and, fearful of its being Mr. Darcy,\n\
she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was\n\
now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness,\n\
pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearing\n\
herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr.\n\
Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time\n\
reached it also, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctively\n\
took, said, with a look of haughty composure, \"I have been\n\
walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will\n\
you do me the honour of reading that letter?\" And then, with a\n\
slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon out of\n\
sight.\n\
\n\
With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity,\n\
Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder,\n\
perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper,\n\
written quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself\n\
was likewise full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then\n\
began it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o\'clock in the\n\
morning, and was as follows:--\n\
\n\
\"Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the\n\
apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments\n\
or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to\n\
you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling\n\
myself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both,\n\
cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation\n\
and the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have been\n\
spared, had not my character required it to be written and read.\n\
You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand\n\
your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly,\n\
but I demand it of your justice.\n\
\n\
\"Two offenses of a very different nature, and by no means of\n\
equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first\n\
mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had\n\
detached <NAME> from your sister, and the other, that I had,\n\
in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and\n\
humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the\n\
prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and wantonly to have\n\
thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged\n\
favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other\n\
dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought\n\
up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity, to which the\n\
separation of two young persons, whose affection could be the\n\
growth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. But\n\
from the severity of that blame which was last night so liberally\n\
bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope to be in the\n\
future secured, when the following account of my actions and\n\
their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them,\n\
which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating\n\
feelings which may be offensive to yours, I can only say that I\n\
am sorry. The necessity must be obeyed, and further apology\n\
would be absurd.\n\
\n\
\"I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common\n\
with others, that Bingley preferred your elder sister to any other\n\
young woman in the country. But it was not till the evening of\n\
the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his\n\
feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before.\n\
At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was\n\
first made acquainted, by Sir <NAME>\'s accidental\n\
information, that Bingley\'s attentions to your sister had given\n\
rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it\n\
as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided.\n\
From that moment I observed my friend\'s behaviour attentively;\n\
and I could then perceive that his partiality for <NAME>\n\
was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I\n\
also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and\n\
engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard,\n\
and I remained convinced from the evening\'s scrutiny, that\n\
though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not\n\
invite them by any participation of sentiment. If _you_ have not\n\
been mistaken here, _I_ must have been in error. Your superior\n\
knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. If it be\n\
so, if I have been misled by such error to inflict pain on her,\n\
your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple\n\
to assert, that the serenity of your sister\'s countenance and air\n\
was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction\n\
that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be\n\
easily touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent\n\
is certain--but I will venture to say that my investigation and\n\
decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I did\n\
not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed\n\
it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.\n\
My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last\n\
night acknowledged to have the utmost force of passion to put\n\
aside, in my own case; the want of connection could not be so\n\
great an evil to my friend as to me. But there were other causes\n\
of repugnance; causes which, though still existing, and existing\n\
to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavoured\n\
to forget, because they were not immediately before me. These\n\
causes must be stated, though briefly. The situation of\n\
your mother\'s family, though objectionable, was nothing in\n\
comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, so\n\
almost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger\n\
sisters, and occasionally even by your father. Pardon me. It\n\
pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects\n\
of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this\n\
representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider\n\
that, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of\n\
the like censure, is praise no less generally bestowed on you and\n\
your elder sister, than it is honourable to the sense and\n\
disposition of both. I will only say farther that from what passed\n\
that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every\n\
inducement heightened which could have led me before, to\n\
preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy\n\
connection. He left Netherfield for London, on the day\n\
following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of\n\
soon returning.\n\
\n\
\"The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters\'\n\
uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence\n\
of feeling was soon discovered, and, alike sensible that no time\n\
was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved\n\
on joining him directly in London. We accordingly went--and\n\
there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my\n\
friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described, and\n\
enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance might\n\
have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose\n\
that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not\n\
been seconded by the assurance that I hesitated not in giving, of\n\
your sister\'s indifference. He had before believed her to return\n\
his affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. But Bingley\n\
has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my\n\
judgement than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that he\n\
had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade\n\
him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction\n\
had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot\n\
blame myself for having done thus much. There is but one part\n\
of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect with\n\
satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of\n\
art so far as to conceal from him your sister\'s being in town. I\n\
knew it myself, as it was known to <NAME>; but her brother\n\
is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without ill\n\
consequence is perhaps probable; but his regard did not appear\n\
to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger.\n\
Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me; it is\n\
done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject\n\
I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I\n\
have wounded your sister\'s feelings, it was unknowingly done and\n\
though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally\n\
appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them.\n\
\n\
\"With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having\n\
injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you\n\
the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has\n\
_particularly_ accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of\n\
what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of\n\
undoubted veracity.\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for\n\
many years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and\n\
whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally\n\
inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George\n\
Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore\n\
liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and\n\
afterwards at Cambridge--most important assistance, as his own\n\
father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would\n\
have been unable to give him a gentleman\'s education. My\n\
father was not only fond of this young man\'s society, whose\n\
manner were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of\n\
him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to\n\
provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since\n\
I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The\n\
vicious propensities--the want of principle, which he was careful\n\
to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape\n\
the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with\n\
himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded\n\
moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall\n\
give you pain--to what degree you only can tell. But whatever\n\
may be the sentiments which <NAME> has created, a\n\
suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding\n\
his real character--it adds even another motive.\n\
\n\
\"My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment\n\
to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he\n\
particularly recommended it to me, to promote his advancement in\n\
the best manner that his profession might allow--and if he took\n\
orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon\n\
as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand\n\
pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half\n\
a year from these events, <NAME> wrote to inform me that,\n\
having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should\n\
not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate\n\
pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could\n\
not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying\n\
law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds\n\
would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished,\n\
than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly\n\
ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham\n\
ought not to be a clergyman; the business was therefore soon\n\
settled--he resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were\n\
it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it,\n\
and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection\n\
between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to\n\
invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town\n\
I believe he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere\n\
pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a\n\
life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard\n\
little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living\n\
which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter\n\
for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I\n\
had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had\n\
found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely\n\
resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living\n\
in question--of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as\n\
he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for,\n\
and I could not have forgotten my revered father\'s intentions.\n\
You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty,\n\
or for resisting every repetition to it. His resentment was in\n\
proportion to the distress of his circumstances--and he was\n\
doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his\n\
reproaches to myself. After this period every appearance of\n\
acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But last\n\
summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice.\n\
\n\
\"I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to\n\
forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present\n\
should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said\n\
thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is\n\
more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of\n\
my mother\'s nephew, <NAME>, and myself. About a\n\
year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment\n\
formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the\n\
lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went\n\
Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have\n\
been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in\n\
whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by\n\
her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to\n\
Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression\n\
of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to\n\
believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was\n\
then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her\n\
imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it\n\
to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the\n\
intended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support the\n\
idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost\n\
looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You\n\
may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister\'s\n\
credit and feelings prevented any public exposure; but I wrote\n\
to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge\n\
was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham\'s chief\n\
object was unquestionably my sister\'s fortune, which is thirty\n\
thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of\n\
revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge\n\
would have been complete indeed.\n\
\n\
\"This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which\n\
we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely\n\
reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth\n\
of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner,\n\
under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you; but his\n\
success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you\n\
previously were of everything concerning either, detection\n\
could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in\n\
your inclination.\n\
\n\
\"You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last\n\
night; but I was not then master enough of myself to know what\n\
could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here\n\
related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of\n\
<NAME>, who, from our near relationship and\n\
constant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of\n\
my father\'s will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every\n\
particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of _me_\n\
should make _my_ assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented\n\
by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there\n\
may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to\n\
find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in\n\
the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 36\n\
\n\
\n\
If Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect\n\
it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no\n\
expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it\n\
may well be supposed how eagerly she went through them, and what\n\
a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she\n\
read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first\n\
understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; and\n\
steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation\n\
to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a\n\
strong prejudice against everything he might say, she began his\n\
account of what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an\n\
eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and\n\
from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring,\n\
was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her\n\
eyes. His belief of her sister\'s insensibility she instantly\n\
resolved to be false; and his account of the real, the worst\n\
objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of\n\
doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done\n\
which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty.\n\
It was all pride and insolence.\n\
\n\
But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr.\n\
Wickham--when she read with somewhat clearer attention a\n\
relation of events which, if true, must overthrow every cherished\n\
opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to\n\
his own history of himself--her feelings were yet more acutely\n\
painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment,\n\
apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to\n\
discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, \"This must be false!\n\
This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!\"--and\n\
when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely\n\
knowing anything of the last page or two, put it hastily away,\n\
protesting that she would not regard it, that she would never\n\
look in it again.\n\
\n\
In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on\n\
nothing, she walked on; but it would not do; in half a minute the\n\
letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she\n\
could, she again began the mortifying perusal of all that related\n\
to Wickham, and commanded herself so far as to examine the\n\
meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with\n\
the Pemberley family was exactly what he had related himself;\n\
and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, though she had not\n\
before known its extent, agreed equally well with his own\n\
words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she\n\
came to the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had\n\
said of the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled\n\
his very words, it was impossible not to feel that there was gross\n\
duplicity on one side or the other; and, for a few moments, she\n\
flattered herself that her wishes did not err. But when she\n\
read and re-read with the closest attention, the particulars\n\
immediately following of Wickham\'s resigning all pretensions to\n\
the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as\n\
three thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She\n\
put down the letter, weighed every circumstance with what she\n\
meant to be impartiality--deliberated on the probability of each\n\
statement--but with little success. On both sides it was only\n\
assertion. Again she read on; but every line proved more clearly\n\
that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that any\n\
contrivance could so represent as to render Mr. Darcy\'s conduct\n\
in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make\n\
him entirely blameless throughout the whole.\n\
\n\
The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not\n\
to lay at Mr. Wickham\'s charge, exceedingly shocked her; the\n\
more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had\n\
never heard of him before his entrance into the ----shire Militia,\n\
in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man\n\
who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a\n\
slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life nothing had been\n\
known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real\n\
character, had information been in her power, she had never felt\n\
a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had\n\
established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She\n\
tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished\n\
trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the\n\
attacks of <NAME>; or at least, by the predominance of virtue,\n\
atone for those casual errors under which she would endeavour\n\
to class what <NAME> had described as the idleness and vice\n\
of many years\' continuance. But no such recollection befriended\n\
her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of\n\
air and address; but she could remember no more substantial\n\
good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and\n\
the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess.\n\
After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more\n\
continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his\n\
designs on <NAME>, received some confirmation from what\n\
had passed between <NAME> and herself only the\n\
morning before; and at last she was referred for the truth of\n\
every particular to <NAME> himself--from whom she\n\
had previously received the information of his near concern in\n\
all his cousin\'s affairs, and whose character she had no reason\n\
to question. At one time she had almost resolved on applying\n\
to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the\n\
application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction\n\
that <NAME> would never have hazarded such a proposal, if\n\
he had not been well assured of his cousin\'s corroboration.\n\
\n\
She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in\n\
conversation between Wickham and herself, in their first evening\n\
at <NAME>\'s. Many of his expressions were still fresh in\n\
her memory. She was _now_ struck with the impropriety of such\n\
communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her\n\
before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as\n\
he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his\n\
conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear\n\
of seeing Mr. Darcy--that Mr. Darcy might leave the country,\n\
but that _he_ should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the\n\
Netherfield ball the very next week. She remembered also that,\n\
till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told\n\
his story to no one but herself; but that after their removal it\n\
had been everywhere discussed; that he had then no reserves, no\n\
scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy\'s character, though he had assured\n\
her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing\n\
the son.\n\
\n\
How differently did everything now appear in which he was\n\
concerned! His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence\n\
of views solely and hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of\n\
her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but\n\
his eagerness to grasp at anything. His behaviour to herself\n\
could now have had no tolerable motive; he had either been\n\
deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his\n\
vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had\n\
most incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour\n\
grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Mr.\n\
Darcy, she could not but allow Mr. Bingley, when questioned\n\
by Jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair;\n\
that proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in\n\
the whole course of their acquaintance--an acquaintance which\n\
had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of\n\
intimacy with his ways--seen anything that betrayed him to be\n\
unprincipled or unjust--anything that spoke him of irreligious\n\
or immoral habits; that among his own connections he was\n\
esteemed and valued--that even Wickham had allowed him\n\
merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so\n\
affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of _some_\n\
amiable feeling; that had his actions been what Mr. Wickham\n\
represented them, so gross a violation of everything right could\n\
hardly have been concealed from the world; and that friendship\n\
between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr.\n\
Bingley, was incomprehensible.\n\
\n\
She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor\n\
Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind,\n\
partial, prejudiced, absurd.\n\
\n\
\"How despicably I have acted!\" she cried; \"I, who have prided\n\
myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my\n\
abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my\n\
sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust!\n\
How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation!\n\
Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind!\n\
But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the\n\
preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other,\n\
on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted\n\
prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where\n\
either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.\"\n\
\n\
From herself to Jane--from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were\n\
in a line which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy\'s\n\
explanation _there_ had appeared very insufficient, and she read\n\
it again. Widely different was the effect of a second perusal.\n\
How could she deny that credit to his assertions in one instance,\n\
which she had been obliged to give in the other? He declared\n\
himself to be totally unsuspicious of her sister\'s attachment;\n\
and she could not help remembering what Charlotte\'s opinion\n\
had always been. Neither could she deny the justice of his\n\
description of Jane. She felt that Jane\'s feelings, though fervent,\n\
were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency\n\
in her air and manner not often united with great sensibility.\n\
\n\
When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were\n\
mentioned in terms of such mortifying, yet merited reproach, her\n\
sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her\n\
too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he\n\
particularly alluded as having passed at the Netherfield ball,\n\
and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have\n\
made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers.\n\
\n\
The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It\n\
soothed, but it could not console her for the contempt which had\n\
thus been self-attracted by the rest of her family; and as she\n\
considered that Jane\'s disappointment had in fact been the work\n\
of her nearest relations, and reflected how materially the credit\n\
of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt\n\
depressed beyond anything she had ever known before.\n\
\n\
After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to\n\
every variety of thought--re-considering events, determining\n\
probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to\n\
a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollection\n\
of her long absence, made her at length return home; and she\n\
entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual,\n\
and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make\n\
her unfit for conversation.\n\
\n\
She was immediately told that the two gentlemen from Rosings\n\
had each called during her absence; <NAME>, only for a few\n\
minutes, to take leave--but that <NAME> had been\n\
sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return, and\n\
almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found.\n\
Elizabeth could but just _affect_ concern in missing him; she\n\
really rejoiced at it. <NAME> was no longer an\n\
object; she could think only of her letter.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 37\n\
\n\
\n\
The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning, and Mr.\n\
Collins having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them\n\
his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing\n\
intelligence, of their appearing in very good health, and in as\n\
tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene\n\
so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened,\n\
to console <NAME> and her daughter; and on his return\n\
brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her\n\
ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as to make\n\
her very desirous of having them all to dine with her.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not see <NAME> without recollecting that,\n\
had she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to\n\
her as her future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of\n\
what her ladyship\'s indignation would have been. \"What would\n\
she have said? how would she have behaved?\" were questions with\n\
which she amused herself.\n\
\n\
Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings party.\n\
\"I assure you, I feel it exceedingly,\" said <NAME>; \"I\n\
believe no one feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But\n\
I am particularly attached to these young men, and know them to\n\
be so much attached to me! They were excessively sorry to go!\n\
But so they always are. The dear Colonel rallied his spirits\n\
tolerably till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most\n\
acutely, more, I think, than last year. His attachment to\n\
Rosings certainly increases.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Collins had a compliment, and an allusion to throw in here,\n\
which were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter.\n\
\n\
<NAME> observed, after dinner, that <NAME> seemed\n\
out of spirits, and immediately accounting for it by herself,\n\
by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon,\n\
she added:\n\
\n\
\"But if that is the case, you must write to your mother and beg\n\
that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad\n\
of your company, I am sure.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,\"\n\
replied Elizabeth, \"but it is not in my power to accept it.\n\
I must be in town next Saturday.\"\n\
\n\
\"Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I\n\
expected you to stay two months. I told <NAME> so before\n\
you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon.\n\
Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight.\"\n\
\n\
\"But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can.\n\
Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if\n\
you will stay another _month_ complete, it will be in my power\n\
to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early\n\
in June, for a week; and as Dawson does not object to the\n\
barouche-box, there will be very good room for one of you--and\n\
indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not\n\
object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by\n\
our original plan.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> seemed resigned. \"<NAME>, you must send\n\
a servant with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I\n\
cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by\n\
themselves. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send\n\
somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort\n\
of thing. Young women should always be properly guarded and\n\
attended, according to their situation in life. When my niece\n\
Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her\n\
having two men-servants go with her. <NAME>, the daughter\n\
of Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, and <NAME>, could not have\n\
appeared with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively\n\
attentive to all those things. You must send John with the young\n\
ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it;\n\
for it would really be discreditable to _you_ to let them go\n\
alone.\"\n\
\n\
\"My uncle is to send a servant for us.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very\n\
glad you have somebody who thinks of these things. Where\n\
shall you change horses? Oh! Bromley, of course. If you\n\
mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to.\"\n\
\n\
Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their\n\
journey, and as she did not answer them all herself, attention was\n\
necessary, which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her; or, with\n\
a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was.\n\
Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours; whenever she\n\
was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a\n\
day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge\n\
in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.\n\
\n\
Mr. Darcy\'s letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by\n\
heart. She studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its\n\
writer were at times widely different. When she remembered the\n\
style of his address, she was still full of indignation; but when\n\
she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him,\n\
her anger was turned against herself; and his disappointed\n\
feelings became the object of compassion. His attachment\n\
excited gratitude, his general character respect; but she could\n\
not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal,\n\
or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In\n\
her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation\n\
and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family, a subject\n\
of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy. Her father,\n\
contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to\n\
restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and her\n\
mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely\n\
insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently united with Jane\n\
in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia;\n\
but while they were supported by their mother\'s indulgence, what\n\
chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited,\n\
irritable, and completely under Lydia\'s guidance, had been always\n\
affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless,\n\
would scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and\n\
vain. While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt\n\
with him; and while Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they\n\
would be going there forever.\n\
\n\
Anxiety on Jane\'s behalf was another prevailing concern; and\n\
Mr. Darcy\'s explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former\n\
good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His\n\
affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct\n\
cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness\n\
of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the\n\
thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so\n\
replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had\n\
been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!\n\
\n\
When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham\'s\n\
character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which\n\
had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to\n\
make it almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.\n\
\n\
Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last\n\
week of her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening\n\
was spent there; and her ladyship again inquired minutely into\n\
the particulars of their journey, gave them directions as to the\n\
best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of\n\
placing gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself\n\
obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and\n\
pack her trunk afresh.\n\
\n\
When they parted, <NAME>, with great condescension,\n\
wished them a good journey, and invited them to come to\n\
Hunsford again next year; and <NAME> exerted herself\n\
so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to both.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 38\n\
\n\
\n\
On Saturday morning Elizabeth and <NAME> met for breakfast\n\
a few minutes before the others appeared; and he took the\n\
opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed\n\
indispensably necessary.\n\
\n\
\"I know not, <NAME>,\" said he, \"whether <NAME> has\n\
yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I\n\
am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving\n\
her thanks for it. The favor of your company has been much\n\
felt, I assure you. We know how little there is to tempt anyone\n\
to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small\n\
rooms and few domestics, and the little we see of the world,\n\
must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like\n\
yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the\n\
condescension, and that we have done everything in our power\n\
to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness.\n\
She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure\n\
of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received,\n\
must make _her_ feel the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified, and\n\
with a more smiling solemnity replied:\n\
\n\
\"It gives me great pleasure to hear that you have passed your\n\
time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and\n\
most fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very\n\
superior society, and, from our connection with Rosings, the\n\
frequent means of varying the humble home scene, I think we\n\
may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been\n\
entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to <NAME>\'s\n\
family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing\n\
which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You\n\
see how continually we are engaged there. In truth I must\n\
acknowledge that, with all the disadvantages of this humble\n\
parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of\n\
compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.\"\n\
\n\
Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and\n\
he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to\n\
unite civility and truth in a few short sentences.\n\
\n\
\"You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into\n\
Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself at least that you\n\
will be able to do so. <NAME>\'s great attentions to Mrs.\n\
Collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust\n\
it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunate--but\n\
on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me\n\
assure you, my dear <NAME>, that I can from my heart most\n\
cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte\n\
and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in\n\
everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas\n\
between us. We seem to have been designed for each other.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where\n\
that was the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she\n\
firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was\n\
not sorry, however, to have the recital of them interrupted by\n\
the lady from whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte! it was\n\
melancholy to leave her to such society! But she had chosen it\n\
with her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that her\n\
visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion.\n\
Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, and\n\
all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.\n\
\n\
At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the\n\
parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After\n\
an affectionate parting between the friends, Elizabeth was\n\
attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins, and as they walked\n\
down the garden he was commissioning her with his best\n\
respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks for the\n\
kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his\n\
compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He\n\
then handed her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the\n\
point of being closed, when he suddenly reminded them, with\n\
some consternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave\n\
any message for the ladies at Rosings.\n\
\n\
\"But,\" he added, \"you will of course wish to have your humble\n\
respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their\n\
kindness to you while you have been here.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth made no objection; the door was then allowed to be\n\
shut, and the carriage drove off.\n\
\n\
\"Good gracious!\" cried Maria, after a few minutes\' silence, \"it\n\
seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many\n\
things have happened!\"\n\
\n\
\"A great many indeed,\" said her companion with a sigh.\n\
\n\
\"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there\n\
twice! How much I shall have to tell!\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth added privately, \"And how much I shall have to conceal!\"\n\
\n\
Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any\n\
alarm; and within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they\n\
reached Mr. Gardiner\'s house, where they were to remain a few\n\
days.\n\
\n\
Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of\n\
studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the\n\
kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go\n\
home with her, and at Longbourn there would be leisure enough\n\
for observation.\n\
\n\
It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait\n\
even for Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy\'s\n\
proposals. To know that she had the power of revealing what\n\
would so exceedingly astonish Jane, and must, at the same time,\n\
so highly gratify whatever of her own vanity she had not yet\n\
been able to reason away, was such a temptation to openness\n\
as nothing could have conquered but the state of indecision\n\
in which she remained as to the extent of what she should\n\
communicate; and her fear, if she once entered on the subject,\n\
of being hurried into repeating something of Bingley which\n\
might only grieve her sister further.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 39\n\
\n\
\n\
It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies\n\
set out together from Gracechurch Street for the town of ----,\n\
in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew near the appointed inn where\n\
Mr. Bennet\'s carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived,\n\
in token of the coachman\'s punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia\n\
looking out of a dining-room upstairs. These two girls had been\n\
above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting an\n\
opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and dressing a\n\
salad and cucumber.\n\
\n\
After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table\n\
set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords,\n\
exclaiming, \"Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?\"\n\
\n\
\"And we mean to treat you all,\" added Lydia, \"but you must lend\n\
us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.\"\n\
Then, showing her purchases--\"Look here, I have bought this bonnet.\n\
I do not think it is very pretty; but I thought I might as well\n\
buy it as not. I shall pull it to pieces as soon as I get home,\n\
and see if I can make it up any better.\"\n\
\n\
And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect\n\
unconcern, \"Oh! but there were two or three much uglier in the\n\
shop; and when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to\n\
trim it with fresh, I think it will be very tolerable. Besides,\n\
it will not much signify what one wears this summer, after the\n\
----shire have left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight.\"\n\
\n\
\"Are they indeed!\" cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.\n\
\n\
\"They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so\n\
want papa to take us all there for the summer! It would be such\n\
a delicious scheme; and I dare say would hardly cost anything at\n\
all. Mamma would like to go too of all things! Only think what\n\
a miserable summer else we shall have!\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes,\" thought Elizabeth, \"_that_ would be a delightful scheme\n\
indeed, and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven!\n\
Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, to us, who have been\n\
overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthly\n\
balls of Meryton!\"\n\
\n\
\"Now I have got some news for you,\" said Lydia, as they sat down\n\
at table. \"What do you think? It is excellent news--capital\n\
news--and about a certain person we all like!\"\n\
\n\
Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told\n\
he need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said:\n\
\n\
\"Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. You\n\
thought the waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he\n\
often hears worse things said than I am going to say. But he is\n\
an ugly fellow! I am glad he is gone. I never saw such a long\n\
chin in my life. Well, but now for my news; it is about dear\n\
Wickham; too good for the waiter, is it not? There is no danger\n\
of Wickham\'s marrying <NAME>. There\'s for you! She is gone\n\
down to her uncle at Liverpool: gone to stay. Wickham is safe.\"\n\
\n\
\"And <NAME> is safe!\" added Elizabeth; \"safe from a\n\
connection imprudent as to fortune.\"\n\
\n\
\"She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.\"\n\
\n\
\"But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,\"\n\
said Jane.\n\
\n\
\"I am sure there is not on _his_. I will answer for it, he never\n\
cared three straws about her--who could about such a nasty\n\
little freckled thing?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of\n\
such coarseness of _expression_ herself, the coarseness of the\n\
_sentiment_ was little other than her own breast had harboured\n\
and fancied liberal!\n\
\n\
As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was\n\
ordered; and after some contrivance, the whole party, with all\n\
their boxes, work-bags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition\n\
of Kitty\'s and Lydia\'s purchases, were seated in it.\n\
\n\
\"How nicely we are all crammed in,\" cried Lydia. \"I am glad I\n\
bought my bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another\n\
bandbox! Well, now let us be quite comfortable and snug, and\n\
talk and laugh all the way home. And in the first place, let\n\
us hear what has happened to you all since you went away. Have\n\
you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any flirting? I was\n\
in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband before\n\
you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare.\n\
She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord, how ashamed I should be of\n\
not being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Phillips wants\n\
you so to get husbands, you can\'t think. She says Lizzy had\n\
better have taken Mr. Collins; but _I_ do not think there would\n\
have been any fun in it. Lord! how I should like to be married\n\
before any of you; and then I would chaperon you about to all\n\
the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece of fun the other\n\
day at <NAME>\'s. Kitty and me were to spend the day\n\
there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the\n\
evening; (by the bye, Mrs. Forster and me are _such_ friends!) and\n\
so she asked the two Harringtons to come, but Harriet was ill,\n\
and so Pen was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you\n\
think we did? We dressed up Chamberlayne in woman\'s clothes on\n\
purpose to pass for a lady, only think what fun! Not a soul\n\
knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs. Forster, and Kitty and me,\n\
except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of her gowns;\n\
and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny, and\n\
Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in,\n\
they did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and\n\
so did <NAME>. I thought I should have died. And _that_\n\
made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out\n\
what was the matter.\"\n\
\n\
With such kinds of histories of their parties and good jokes, did\n\
Lydia, assisted by Kitty\'s hints and additions, endeavour to\n\
amuse her companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth\n\
listened as little as she could, but there was no escaping the\n\
frequent mention of Wickham\'s name.\n\
\n\
Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to\n\
see Jane in undiminished beauty; and more than once during\n\
dinner did Mr. Bennet say voluntarily to Elizabeth:\n\
\n\
\"I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.\"\n\
\n\
Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the\n\
Lucases came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various\n\
were the subjects that occupied them: <NAME> was inquiring\n\
of Maria, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter;\n\
Mrs. Bennet was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an\n\
account of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some way\n\
below her, and, on the other, retailing them all to the younger\n\
Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice rather louder than any other\n\
person\'s, was enumerating the various pleasures of the morning\n\
to anybody who would hear her.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! Mary,\" said she, \"I wish you had gone with us, for we had\n\
such fun! As we went along, Kitty and I drew up the blinds,\n\
and pretended there was nobody in the coach; and I should have\n\
gone so all the way, if Kitty had not been sick; and when we got\n\
to the George, I do think we behaved very handsomely, for we\n\
treated the other three with the nicest cold luncheon in the\n\
world, and if you would have gone, we would have treated you\n\
too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought\n\
we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die\n\
of laughter. And then we were so merry all the way home! we\n\
talked and laughed so loud, that anybody might have heard us\n\
ten miles off!\"\n\
\n\
To this Mary very gravely replied, \"Far be it from me, my dear\n\
sister, to depreciate such pleasures! They would doubtless be\n\
congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess\n\
they would have no charms for _me_--I should infinitely prefer a\n\
book.\"\n\
\n\
But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened\n\
to anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to\n\
Mary at all.\n\
\n\
In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls\n\
to walk to Meryton, and to see how everybody went on; but\n\
Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. It should not be said\n\
that the Miss Bennets could not be at home half a day before\n\
they were in pursuit of the officers. There was another reason\n\
too for her opposition. She dreaded seeing <NAME> again,\n\
and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort\n\
to _her_ of the regiment\'s approaching removal was indeed beyond\n\
expression. In a fortnight they were to go--and once gone, she\n\
hoped there could be nothing more to plague her on his account.\n\
\n\
She had not been many hours at home before she found that the\n\
Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn,\n\
was under frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth\n\
saw directly that her father had not the smallest intention of\n\
yielding; but his answers were at the same time so vague and\n\
equivocal, that her mother, though often disheartened, had never\n\
yet despaired of succeeding at last.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 40\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened\n\
could no longer be overcome; and at length, resolving to\n\
suppress every particular in which her sister was concerned,\n\
and preparing her to be surprised, she related to her the next\n\
morning the chief of the scene between <NAME> and herself.\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong\n\
sisterly partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear\n\
perfectly natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other\n\
feelings. She was sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his\n\
sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them; but\n\
still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister\'s\n\
refusal must have given him.\n\
\n\
\"His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,\" said she, \"and\n\
certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it\n\
must increase his disappointment!\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed,\" replied Elizabeth, \"I am heartily sorry for him; but he\n\
has other feelings, which will probably soon drive away his\n\
regard for me. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?\"\n\
\n\
\"Blame you! Oh, no.\"\n\
\n\
\"But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?\"\n\
\n\
\"No--I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you\n\
did.\"\n\
\n\
\"But you _will_ know it, when I tell you what happened the very\n\
next day.\"\n\
\n\
She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents\n\
as far as they concerned <NAME>. What a stroke was\n\
this for poor Jane! who would willingly have gone through the\n\
world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the\n\
whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual.\n\
Nor was Darcy\'s vindication, though grateful to her feelings,\n\
capable of consoling her for such discovery. Most earnestly did\n\
she labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear the\n\
one without involving the other.\n\
\n\
\"This will not do,\" said Elizabeth; \"you never will be able to\n\
make both of them good for anything. Take your choice, but\n\
you must be satisfied with only one. There is but such a quantity\n\
of merit between them; just enough to make one good sort of\n\
man; and of late it has been shifting about pretty much. For my\n\
part, I am inclined to believe it all Darcy\'s; but you shall do\n\
as you choose.\"\n\
\n\
It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted\n\
from Jane.\n\
\n\
\"I do not know when I have been more shocked,\" said she.\n\
\"Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr.\n\
Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered.\n\
Such a disappointment! and with the knowledge of your ill\n\
opinion, too! and having to relate such a thing of his sister!\n\
It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it so.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing\n\
you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice,\n\
that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent.\n\
Your profusion makes me saving; and if you lament over him much\n\
longer, my heart will be as light as a feather.\"\n\
\n\
\"Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his\n\
countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!\"\n\
\n\
\"There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education\n\
of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the\n\
other all the appearance of it.\"\n\
\n\
\"I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the _appearance_\n\
of it as you used to do.\"\n\
\n\
\"And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided\n\
a dislike to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one\'s\n\
genius, such an opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind.\n\
One may be continually abusive without saying anything just; but\n\
one cannot always be laughing at a man without now and then\n\
stumbling on something witty.\"\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not\n\
treat the matter as you do now.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I may say\n\
unhappy. And with no one to speak to about what I felt, no\n\
Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak and\n\
vain and nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! how I wanted you!\"\n\
\n\
\"How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong\n\
expressions in speaking of Wickham to <NAME>, for now they\n\
_do_ appear wholly undeserved.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness\n\
is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been\n\
encouraging. There is one point on which I want your advice.\n\
I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not, to make our\n\
acquaintances in general understand Wickham\'s character.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> paused a little, and then replied, \"Surely there can\n\
be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your\n\
opinion?\"\n\
\n\
\"That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not\n\
authorised me to make his communication public. On the\n\
contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to\n\
be kept as much as possible to myself; and if I endeavour to\n\
undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will believe\n\
me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that\n\
it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to\n\
attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it.\n\
Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to\n\
anyone here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all\n\
found out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not\n\
knowing it before. At present I will say nothing about it.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin\n\
him for ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done,\n\
and anxious to re-establish a character. We must not make him\n\
desperate.\"\n\
\n\
The tumult of Elizabeth\'s mind was allayed by this conversation.\n\
She had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her\n\
for a fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane,\n\
whenever she might wish to talk again of either. But there was\n\
still something lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the\n\
disclosure. She dared not relate the other half of Mr. Darcy\'s\n\
letter, nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been\n\
valued by her friend. Here was knowledge in which no one\n\
could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than a\n\
perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in\n\
throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. \"And then,\" said\n\
she, \"if that very improbable event should ever take place, I\n\
shall merely be able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more\n\
agreeable manner himself. The liberty of communication cannot\n\
be mine till it has lost all its value!\"\n\
\n\
She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the\n\
real state of her sister\'s spirits. Jane was not happy. She still\n\
cherished a very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even\n\
fancied herself in love before, her regard had all the warmth of\n\
first attachment, and, from her age and disposition, greater\n\
steadiness than most first attachments often boast; and so\n\
fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to every\n\
other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the\n\
feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of\n\
those regrets which must have been injurious to her own health\n\
and their tranquillity.\n\
\n\
\"Well, Lizzy,\" said <NAME> one day, \"what is your opinion\n\
_now_ of this sad business of Jane\'s? For my part, I am\n\
determined never to speak of it again to anybody. I told my\n\
sister Phillips so the other day. But I cannot find out that Jane\n\
saw anything of him in London. Well, he is a very undeserving\n\
young man--and I do not suppose there\'s the least chance in the\n\
world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his\n\
coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired\n\
of everybody, too, who is likely to know.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not believe he will ever live at Netherfield any more.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come.\n\
Though I shall always say he used my daughter extremely ill; and\n\
if I was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort\n\
is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart; and then he will\n\
be sorry for what he has done.\"\n\
\n\
But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such\n\
expectation, she made no answer.\n\
\n\
\"Well, Lizzy,\" continued her mother, soon afterwards, \"and so\n\
the Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only\n\
hope it will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte\n\
is an excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as\n\
her mother, she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in\n\
_their_ housekeeping, I dare say.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, nothing at all.\"\n\
\n\
\"A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes.\n\
_they_ will take care not to outrun their income. _They_ will\n\
never be distressed for money. Well, much good may it do\n\
them! And so, I suppose, they often talk of having Longbourn\n\
when your father is dead. They look upon it as quite their own,\n\
I dare say, whenever that happens.\"\n\
\n\
\"It was a subject which they could not mention before me.\"\n\
\n\
\"No; it would have been strange if they had; but I make no\n\
doubt they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they\n\
can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so\n\
much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was\n\
only entailed on me.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 41\n\
\n\
\n\
The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began.\n\
It was the last of the regiment\'s stay in Meryton, and all the\n\
young ladies in the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The\n\
dejection was almost universal. The elder <NAME> alone\n\
were still able to eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the usual\n\
course of their employments. Very frequently were they\n\
reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose\n\
own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such\n\
hard-heartedness in any of the family.\n\
\n\
\"Good Heaven! what is to become of us? What are we to do?\"\n\
would they often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. \"How can\n\
you be smiling so, Lizzy?\"\n\
\n\
Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered\n\
what she had herself endured on a similar occasion, five-and-twenty\n\
years ago.\n\
\n\
\"I am sure,\" said she, \"I cried for two days together when\n\
Colonel Miller\'s regiment went away. I thought I should have\n\
broken my heart.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am sure I shall break _mine_,\" said Lydia.\n\
\n\
\"If one could but go to Brighton!\" observed Mrs. Bennet.\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes!--if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so\n\
disagreeable.\"\n\
\n\
\"A little sea-bathing would set me up forever.\"\n\
\n\
\"And my aunt Phillips is sure it would do _me_ a great deal of\n\
good,\" added Kitty.\n\
\n\
Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually\n\
through Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by\n\
them; but all sense of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew\n\
the justice of Mr. Darcy\'s objections; and never had she been so\n\
much disposed to pardon his interference in the views of his\n\
friend.\n\
\n\
But the gloom of Lydia\'s prospect was shortly cleared away; for\n\
she received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the\n\
colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This\n\
invaluable friend was a very young woman, and very lately\n\
married. A resemblance in good humour and good spirits had\n\
recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of their\n\
_three_ months\' acquaintance they had been intimate _two_.\n\
\n\
The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs.\n\
Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of\n\
Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive to her\n\
sister\'s feelings, Lydia flew about the house in restless ecstasy,\n\
calling for everyone\'s congratulations, and laughing and talking\n\
with more violence than ever; whilst the luckless Kitty continued\n\
in the parlour repined at her fate in terms as unreasonable as her\n\
accent was peevish.\n\
\n\
\"I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask _me_ as well as\n\
Lydia,\" said she, \"Though I am _not_ her particular friend. I\n\
have just as much right to be asked as she has, and more too,\n\
for I am two years older.\"\n\
\n\
In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane\n\
to make her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation\n\
was so far from exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother\n\
and Lydia, that she considered it as the death warrant of all\n\
possibility of common sense for the latter; and detestable as such\n\
a step must make her were it known, she could not help secretly\n\
advising her father not to let her go. She represented to him all\n\
the improprieties of Lydia\'s general behaviour, the little\n\
advantage she could derive from the friendship of such a woman\n\
as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more\n\
imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the\n\
temptations must be greater than at home. He heard her\n\
attentively, and then said:\n\
\n\
\"Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some\n\
public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with\n\
so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the\n\
present circumstances.\"\n\
\n\
\"If you were aware,\" said Elizabeth, \"of the very great\n\
disadvantage to us all which must arise from the public notice\n\
of Lydia\'s unguarded and imprudent manner--nay, which has\n\
already arisen from it, I am sure you would judge differently in\n\
the affair.\"\n\
\n\
\"Already arisen?\" repeated Mr. Bennet. \"What, has she\n\
frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do\n\
not be cast down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to be\n\
connected with a little absurdity are not worth a regret. Come,\n\
let me see the list of pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof\n\
by Lydia\'s folly.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent.\n\
It is not of particular, but of general evils, which I am now\n\
complaining. Our importance, our respectability in the world must\n\
be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of\n\
all restraint which mark Lydia\'s character. Excuse me, for I must\n\
speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble\n\
of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her\n\
present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will\n\
soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character will be\n\
fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that\n\
ever made herself or her family ridiculous; a flirt, too, in the\n\
worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction\n\
beyond youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and\n\
emptiness of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of\n\
that universal contempt which her rage for admiration will excite.\n\
In this danger Kitty also is comprehended. She will follow wherever\n\
Lydia leads. Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled!\n\
Oh! my dear father, can you suppose it possible that they will not\n\
be censured and despised wherever they are known, and that their\n\
sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject, and\n\
affectionately taking her hand said in reply:\n\
\n\
\"Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane\n\
are known you must be respected and valued; and you will not\n\
appear to less advantage for having a couple of--or I may say,\n\
three--very silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn\n\
if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel\n\
Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real\n\
mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey\n\
to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance even as\n\
a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find\n\
women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that\n\
her being there may teach her her own insignificance. At any\n\
rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse, without authorising\n\
us to lock her up for the rest of her life.\"\n\
\n\
With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her\n\
own opinion continued the same, and she left him disappointed\n\
and sorry. It was not in her nature, however, to increase her\n\
vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having\n\
performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or\n\
augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition.\n\
\n\
Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference\n\
with her father, their indignation would hardly have found\n\
expression in their united volubility. In Lydia\'s imagination,\n\
a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly\n\
happiness. She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets\n\
of that gay bathing-place covered with officers. She saw\n\
herself the object of attention, to tens and to scores of them\n\
at present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp--its\n\
tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded\n\
with the young and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to\n\
complete the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly\n\
flirting with at least six officers at once.\n\
\n\
Had she known her sister sought to tear her from such prospects\n\
and such realities as these, what would have been her sensations?\n\
They could have been understood only by her mother, who might\n\
have felt nearly the same. Lydia\'s going to Brighton was all\n\
that consoled her for her melancholy conviction of her husband\'s\n\
never intending to go there himself.\n\
\n\
But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their\n\
raptures continued, with little intermission, to the very day of\n\
Lydia\'s leaving home.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time.\n\
Having been frequently in company with him since her return,\n\
agitation was pretty well over; the agitations of formal partiality\n\
entirely so. She had even learnt to detect, in the very gentleness\n\
which had first delighted her, an affectation and a sameness to\n\
disgust and weary. In his present behaviour to herself,\n\
moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure, for the\n\
inclination he soon testified of renewing those intentions which\n\
had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve,\n\
after what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern\n\
for him in finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle\n\
and frivolous gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could\n\
not but feel the reproof contained in his believing, that however\n\
long, and for whatever cause, his attentions had been withdrawn,\n\
her vanity would be gratified, and her preference secured at any\n\
time by their renewal.\n\
\n\
On the very last day of the regiment\'s remaining at Meryton, he\n\
dined, with other of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little\n\
was Elizabeth disposed to part from him in good humour, that on\n\
his making some inquiry as to the manner in which her time had\n\
passed at Hunsford, she mentioned <NAME>\'s and\n\
Mr. Darcy\'s having both spent three weeks at Rosings, and\n\
asked him, if he was acquainted with the former.\n\
\n\
He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but with a moment\'s\n\
recollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly\n\
seen him often; and, after observing that he was a very\n\
gentlemanlike man, asked her how she had liked him. Her\n\
answer was warmly in his favour. With an air of indifference he\n\
soon afterwards added:\n\
\n\
\"How long did you say he was at Rosings?\"\n\
\n\
\"Nearly three weeks.\"\n\
\n\
\"And you saw him frequently?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, almost every day.\"\n\
\n\
\"His manners are very different from his cousin\'s.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves upon\n\
acquaintance.\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed!\" cried <NAME> with a look which did not escape\n\
her. \"And pray, may I ask?--\" But checking himself, he added,\n\
in a gayer tone, \"Is it in address that he improves? Has he\n\
deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary style?--for I\n\
dare not hope,\" he continued in a lower and more serious tone,\n\
\"that he is improved in essentials.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, no!\" said Elizabeth. \"In essentials, I believe, he is very\n\
much what he ever was.\"\n\
\n\
While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing\n\
whether to rejoice over her words, or to distrust their meaning.\n\
There was a something in her countenance which made him listen\n\
with an apprehensive and anxious attention, while she added:\n\
\n\
\"When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean\n\
that his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but\n\
that, from knowing him better, his disposition was better\n\
understood.\"\n\
\n\
Wickham\'s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and\n\
agitated look; for a few minutes he was silent, till, shaking\n\
off his embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the\n\
gentlest of accents:\n\
\n\
\"You, who so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy, will\n\
readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is\n\
wise enough to assume even the _appearance_ of what is right.\n\
His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself,\n\
to many others, for it must only deter him from such foul\n\
misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that the sort of\n\
cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is\n\
merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion\n\
and judgement he stands much in awe. His fear of her has\n\
always operated, I know, when they were together; and a good\n\
deal is to be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with\n\
<NAME>ourgh, which I am certain he has very much at heart.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only\n\
by a slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to\n\
engage her on the old subject of his grievances, and she was in\n\
no humour to indulge him. The rest of the evening passed with\n\
the _appearance_, on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with\n\
no further attempt to distinguish Elizabeth; and they parted at\n\
last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never\n\
meeting again.\n\
\n\
When the party broke up, Lydia returned with <NAME> to\n\
Meryton, from whence they were to set out early the next\n\
morning. The separation between her and her family was rather\n\
noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the only one who shed tears; but\n\
she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. Bennet was diffuse\n\
in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, and\n\
impressive in her injunctions that she should not miss the\n\
opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible--advice\n\
which there was every reason to believe would be well attended\n\
to; and in the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding\n\
farewell, the more gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered\n\
without being heard.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 42\n\
\n\
\n\
Had Elizabeth\'s opinion been all drawn from her own family,\n\
she could not have formed a very pleasing opinion of conjugal\n\
felicity or domestic comfort. Her father, captivated by youth\n\
and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth\n\
and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak\n\
understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their marriage\n\
put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and\n\
confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of domestic\n\
happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a\n\
disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his\n\
own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which\n\
too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice.\n\
He was fond of the country and of books; and from these tastes had\n\
arisen his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little\n\
otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had\n\
contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of happiness\n\
which a man would in general wish to owe to his wife; but\n\
where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true\n\
philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of\n\
her father\'s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with\n\
pain; but respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate\n\
treatment of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could\n\
not overlook, and to banish from her thoughts that continual\n\
breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing\n\
his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly\n\
reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the\n\
disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a\n\
marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from\n\
so ill-judged a direction of talents; talents, which, rightly used,\n\
might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters,\n\
even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.\n\
\n\
When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham\'s departure she\n\
found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the\n\
regiment. Their parties abroad were less varied than before, and\n\
at home she had a mother and sister whose constant repinings at\n\
the dullness of everything around them threw a real gloom over\n\
their domestic circle; and, though Kitty might in time regain her\n\
natural degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were\n\
removed, her other sister, from whose disposition greater evil\n\
might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her\n\
folly and assurance by a situation of such double danger as a\n\
watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she\n\
found, what has been sometimes found before, that an event\n\
to which she had been looking with impatient desire did not,\n\
in taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised\n\
herself. It was consequently necessary to name some other\n\
period for the commencement of actual felicity--to have some\n\
other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and\n\
by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for\n\
the present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour\n\
to the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts; it was\n\
her best consolation for all the uncomfortable hours which the\n\
discontentedness of her mother and Kitty made inevitable; and\n\
could she have included Jane in the scheme, every part of it\n\
would have been perfect.\n\
\n\
\"But it is fortunate,\" thought she, \"that I have something to wish\n\
for. Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment\n\
would be certain. But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless\n\
source of regret in my sister\'s absence, I may reasonably hope to\n\
have all my expectations of pleasure realised. A scheme of\n\
which every part promises delight can never be successful; and\n\
general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of\n\
some little peculiar vexation.\"\n\
\n\
When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and\n\
very minutely to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were\n\
always long expected, and always very short. Those to her\n\
mother contained little else than that they were just returned\n\
from the library, where such and such officers had attended\n\
them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made\n\
her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which\n\
she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave\n\
off in a violent hurry, as <NAME> called her, and they were\n\
going off to the camp; and from her correspondence with her\n\
sister, there was still less to be learnt--for her letters to\n\
Kitty, though rather longer, were much too full of lines under the\n\
words to be made public.\n\
\n\
After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health,\n\
good humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn.\n\
Everything wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in\n\
town for the winter came back again, and summer finery and\n\
summer engagements arose. Mrs. Bennet was restored to her\n\
usual querulous serenity; and, by the middle of June, Kitty was\n\
so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton without tears;\n\
an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that\n\
by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable\n\
as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by some\n\
cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another\n\
regiment should be quartered in Meryton.\n\
\n\
The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now\n\
fast approaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when\n\
a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its\n\
commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be\n\
prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in\n\
July, and must be in London again within a month, and as that\n\
left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much\n\
as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and\n\
comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the\n\
Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour, and, according\n\
to the present plan, were to go no farther northwards than\n\
Derbyshire. In that county there was enough to be seen to\n\
occupy the chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it\n\
had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had\n\
formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now\n\
to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her\n\
curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth,\n\
Dovedale, or the Peak.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on\n\
seeing the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time\n\
enough. But it was her business to be satisfied--and certainly\n\
her temper to be happy; and all was soon right again.\n\
\n\
With the mention of Derbyshire there were many ideas connected.\n\
It was impossible for her to see the word without thinking of\n\
Pemberley and its owner. \"But surely,\" said she, \"I may enter\n\
his county without impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars\n\
without his perceiving me.\"\n\
\n\
The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to\n\
pass away before her uncle and aunt\'s arrival. But they did pass\n\
away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did\n\
at length appear at Longbourn. The children, two girls of six\n\
and eight years old, and two younger boys, were to be left under\n\
the particular care of their cousin Jane, who was the general\n\
favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly\n\
adapted her for attending to them in every way--teaching them,\n\
playing with them, and loving them.\n\
\n\
The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off\n\
the next morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and\n\
amusement. One enjoyment was certain--that of suitableness\n\
of companions; a suitableness which comprehended health and\n\
temper to bear inconveniences--cheerfulness to enhance every\n\
pleasure--and affection and intelligence, which might supply\n\
it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad.\n\
\n\
It is not the object of this work to give a description of\n\
Derbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places through which\n\
their route thither lay; Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth,\n\
Birmingham, etc. are sufficiently known. A small part of\n\
Derbyshire is all the present concern. To the little town of\n\
Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner\'s former residence, and\n\
where she had lately learned some acquaintance still remained,\n\
they bent their steps, after having seen all the principal wonders\n\
of the country; and within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth\n\
found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not in\n\
their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. In\n\
talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner\n\
expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner\n\
declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her\n\
approbation.\n\
\n\
\"My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have\n\
heard so much?\" said her aunt; \"a place, too, with which so\n\
many of your acquaintances are connected. Wickham passed all\n\
his youth there, you know.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at\n\
Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing\n\
it. She must own that she was tired of seeing great houses; after\n\
going over so many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or\n\
satin curtains.\n\
\n\
<NAME> abused her stupidity. \"If it were merely a fine\n\
house richly furnished,\" said she, \"I should not care about it\n\
myself; but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the\n\
finest woods in the country.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth said no more--but her mind could not acquiesce.\n\
The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place,\n\
instantly occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the\n\
very idea, and thought it would be better to speak openly to\n\
her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there were\n\
objections; and she finally resolved that it could be the last\n\
resource, if her private inquiries to the absence of the family\n\
were unfavourably answered.\n\
\n\
Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid\n\
whether Pemberley were not a very fine place? what was the name\n\
of its proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether the family\n\
were down for the summer? A most welcome negative followed the\n\
last question--and her alarms now being removed, she was at\n\
leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself;\n\
and when the subject was revived the next morning, and she was\n\
again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of\n\
indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme.\n\
To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 43\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance\n\
of <NAME>s with some perturbation; and when at\n\
length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high\n\
flutter.\n\
\n\
The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground.\n\
They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some\n\
time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and\n\
admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They\n\
gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves\n\
at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased,\n\
and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated\n\
on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some\n\
abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building,\n\
standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high\n\
woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance\n\
was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance.\n\
Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth\n\
was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature\n\
had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little\n\
counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm\n\
in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be\n\
mistress of Pemberley might be something!\n\
\n\
They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the\n\
door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all\n\
her apprehension of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded\n\
lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to see\n\
the place, they were admitted into the hall; and Elizabeth, as\n\
they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her\n\
being where she was.\n\
\n\
The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking elderly woman,\n\
much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of\n\
finding her. They followed her into the dining-parlour.\n\
It was a large, well proportioned room, handsomely fitted up.\n\
Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy\n\
its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which they had\n\
descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance,\n\
was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was\n\
good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees\n\
scattered on its banks and the winding of the valley, as far as\n\
she could trace it, with delight. As they passed into other\n\
rooms these objects were taking different positions; but from\n\
every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were\n\
lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune\n\
of its proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste,\n\
that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of\n\
splendour, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings.\n\
\n\
\"And of this place,\" thought she, \"I might have been mistress!\n\
With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted!\n\
Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced\n\
in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle\n\
and aunt. But no,\"--recollecting herself--\"that could never\n\
be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me; I should not\n\
have been allowed to invite them.\"\n\
\n\
This was a lucky recollection--it saved her from something\n\
very like regret.\n\
\n\
She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master\n\
was really absent, but had not the courage for it. At length\n\
however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned\n\
away with alarm, while <NAME> replied that he was,\n\
adding, \"But we expect him to-morrow, with a large party of\n\
friends.\" How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey\n\
had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!\n\
\n\
Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached\n\
and saw the likeness of <NAME>, suspended, amongst\n\
several other miniatures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked\n\
her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward,\n\
and told them it was a picture of a young gentleman, the son of\n\
her late master\'s steward, who had been brought up by him at\n\
his own expense. \"He is now gone into the army,\" she added;\n\
\"but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth\n\
could not return it.\n\
\n\
\"And that,\" said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the\n\
miniatures, \"is my master--and very like him. It was drawn at\n\
the same time as the other--about eight years ago.\"\n\
\n\
\"I have heard much of your master\'s fine person,\" said Mrs.\n\
Gardiner, looking at the picture; \"it is a handsome face.\n\
But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Reynolds respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this\n\
intimation of her knowing her master.\n\
\n\
\"Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth coloured, and said: \"A little.\"\n\
\n\
\"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma\'am?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, very handsome.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery\n\
upstairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this.\n\
This room was my late master\'s favourite room, and these\n\
miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond\n\
of them.\"\n\
\n\
This accounted to Elizabeth for <NAME>\'s being among them.\n\
\n\
M<NAME> then directed their attention to one of <NAME>,\n\
drawn when she was only eight years old.\n\
\n\
\"And is <NAME> as handsome as her brother?\" said <NAME>.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! yes--the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and\n\
so accomplished!--She plays and sings all day long. In the next\n\
room is a new instrument just come down for her--a present\n\
from my master; she comes here to-morrow with him.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME>, whose manners were very easy and pleasant,\n\
encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks;\n\
<NAME>, either by pride or attachment, had evidently\n\
great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.\n\
\n\
\"Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?\"\n\
\n\
\"Not so much as I could wish, sir; but I dare say he may spend\n\
half his time here; and <NAME> is always down for the\n\
summer months.\"\n\
\n\
\"Except,\" thought Elizabeth, \"when she goes to Ramsgate.\"\n\
\n\
\"If your master would marry, you might see more of him.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, sir; but I do not know when _that_ will be. I do not\n\
know who is good enough for him.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying,\n\
\"It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think\n\
so.\"\n\
\n\
\"I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that\n\
knows him,\" replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was\n\
going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment\n\
as the housekeeper added, \"I have never known a cross word\n\
from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was\n\
four years old.\"\n\
\n\
This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite\n\
to her ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been\n\
her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened; she\n\
longed to hear more, and was grateful to her uncle for saying:\n\
\n\
\"There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You\n\
are lucky in having such a master.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I\n\
could not meet with a better. But I have always observed, that\n\
they who are good-natured when children, are good-natured\n\
when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered,\n\
most generous-hearted boy in the world.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth almost stared at her. \"Can this be Mr. Darcy?\"\n\
thought she.\n\
\n\
\"His father was an excellent man,\" said Mrs. Gardiner.\n\
\n\
\"Yes, ma\'am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like\n\
him--just as affable to the poor.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for\n\
more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She\n\
related the subjects of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms,\n\
and the price of the furniture, in vain, <NAME>, highly\n\
amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed\n\
her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to\n\
the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his many merits as\n\
they proceeded together up the great staircase.\n\
\n\
\"He is the best landlord, and the best master,\" said she, \"that\n\
ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of\n\
nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or\n\
servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him\n\
proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it\n\
is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.\"\n\
\n\
\"In what an amiable light does this place him!\" thought\n\
Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"This fine account of him,\" whispered her aunt as they walked,\n\
\"is not quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps we might be deceived.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is not very likely; our authority was too good.\"\n\
\n\
On reaching the spacious lobby above they were shown into a\n\
very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance\n\
and lightness than the apartments below; and were informed that\n\
it was but just done to give pleasure to <NAME>, who had\n\
taken a liking to the room when last at Pemberley.\n\
\n\
\"He is certainly a good brother,\" said Elizabeth, as she walked\n\
towards one of the windows.\n\
\n\
<NAME> anticipated <NAME>\'s delight, when she\n\
should enter the room. \"And this is always the way with him,\"\n\
she added. \"Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure\n\
to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for\n\
her.\"\n\
\n\
The picture-gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms,\n\
were all that remained to be shown. In the former were many\n\
good paintings; but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from\n\
such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned\n\
to look at some drawings of <NAME>\'s, in crayons, whose\n\
subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible.\n\
\n\
In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could\n\
have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked\n\
in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her.\n\
At last it arrested her--and she beheld a striking resemblance\n\
to <NAME>, with such a smile over the face as she remembered\n\
to have sometimes seen when he looked at her. She stood\n\
several minutes before the picture, in earnest contemplation,\n\
and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. Mrs.\n\
Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father\'s\n\
lifetime.\n\
\n\
There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth\'s mind, a more\n\
gentle sensation towards the original than she had ever felt at\n\
the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed\n\
on him by <NAME> was of no trifling nature. What praise\n\
is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a\n\
brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people\'s\n\
happiness were in his guardianship!--how much of pleasure or\n\
pain was it in his power to bestow!--how much of good or evil\n\
must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward\n\
by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she\n\
stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed\n\
his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper\n\
sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she\n\
remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of\n\
expression.\n\
\n\
When all of the house that was open to general inspection had\n\
been seen, they returned downstairs, and, taking leave of the\n\
housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener, who met\n\
them at the hall-door.\n\
\n\
As they walked across the hall towards the river, Elizabeth\n\
turned back to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also, and\n\
while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building,\n\
the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road,\n\
which led behind it to the stables.\n\
\n\
They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was\n\
his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their\n\
eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of both were overspread with\n\
the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment\n\
seemed immovable from surprise; but shortly recovering himself,\n\
advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in\n\
terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility.\n\
\n\
She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach,\n\
received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to\n\
be overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to\n\
the picture they had just been examining, been insufficient\n\
to assure the other two that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the\n\
gardener\'s expression of surprise, on beholding his master,\n\
must immediately have told it. They stood a little aloof while\n\
he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused,\n\
scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what\n\
answer she returned to his civil inquiries after her family.\n\
Amazed at the alteration of his manner since they last parted,\n\
every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment;\n\
and every idea of the impropriety of her being found there\n\
recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued\n\
were some of the most uncomfortable in her life. Nor did he\n\
seem much more at ease; when he spoke, his accent had none of\n\
its usual sedateness; and he repeated his inquiries as to the\n\
time of her having left Longbourn, and of her having stayed in\n\
Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke\n\
the distraction of his thoughts.\n\
\n\
At length every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a\n\
few moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected\n\
himself, and took leave.\n\
\n\
The others then joined her, and expressed admiration of his\n\
figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and wholly engrossed\n\
by her own feelings, followed them in silence. She was\n\
overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming there was\n\
the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world!\n\
How strange it must appear to him! In what a disgraceful light\n\
might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she\n\
had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she\n\
come? Or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected?\n\
Had they been only ten minutes sooner, they should have been\n\
beyond the reach of his discrimination; for it was plain that\n\
he was that moment arrived--that moment alighted from his\n\
horse or his carriage. She blushed again and again over the\n\
perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so strikingly\n\
altered--what could it mean? That he should even speak to her\n\
was amazing!--but to speak with such civility, to inquire after\n\
her family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little\n\
dignified, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this\n\
unexpected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to his last\n\
address in Rosings Park, when he put his letter into her hand!\n\
She knew not what to think, or how to account for it.\n\
\n\
They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water,\n\
and every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or\n\
a finer reach of the woods to which they were approaching; but\n\
it was some time before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it;\n\
and, though she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals\n\
of her uncle and aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such\n\
objects as they pointed out, she distinguished no part of\n\
the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of\n\
Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then\n\
was. She longed to know what at the moment was passing in\n\
his mind--in what manner he thought of her, and whether, in\n\
defiance of everything, she was still dear to him. Perhaps he\n\
had been civil only because he felt himself at ease; yet there\n\
had been _that_ in his voice which was not like ease. Whether he\n\
had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her she could\n\
not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with composure.\n\
\n\
At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her\n\
absence of mind aroused her, and she felt the necessity of\n\
appearing more like herself.\n\
\n\
They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a\n\
while, ascended some of the higher grounds; when, in spots where\n\
the opening of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many\n\
charming views of the valley, the opposite hills, with the long\n\
range of woods overspreading many, and occasionally part of the\n\
stream. Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish of going round the whole\n\
park, but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant\n\
smile they were told that it was ten miles round. It settled the\n\
matter; and they pursued the accustomed circuit; which brought\n\
them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods,\n\
to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts. They\n\
crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air\n\
of the scene; it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet\n\
visited; and the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed\n\
room only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough\n\
coppice-wood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore its\n\
windings; but when they had crossed the bridge, and perceived\n\
their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a\n\
great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of returning\n\
to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, therefore,\n\
obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house on\n\
the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but\n\
their progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to\n\
indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much\n\
engaged in watching the occasional appearance of some trout in\n\
the water, and talking to the man about them, that he advanced\n\
but little. Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were\n\
again surprised, and Elizabeth\'s astonishment was quite equal to\n\
what it had been at first, by the sight of <NAME> approaching\n\
them, and at no great distance. The walk here being here less\n\
sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before\n\
they met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more\n\
prepared for an interview than before, and resolved to appear\n\
and to speak with calmness, if he really intended to meet them.\n\
For a few moments, indeed, she felt that he would probably strike\n\
into some other path. The idea lasted while a turning in the\n\
walk concealed him from their view; the turning past, he was\n\
immediately before them. With a glance, she saw that he had lost\n\
none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness, she\n\
began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place; but she\n\
had not got beyond the words \"delightful,\" and \"charming,\" when\n\
some unlucky recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise\n\
of Pemberley from her might be mischievously construed. Her\n\
colour changed, and she said no more.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing,\n\
he asked her if she would do him the honour of introducing him\n\
to her friends. This was a stroke of civility for which she\n\
was quite unprepared; and she could hardly suppress a smile at\n\
his being now seeking the acquaintance of some of those very\n\
people against whom his pride had revolted in his offer to\n\
herself. \"What will be his surprise,\" thought she, \"when he\n\
knows who they are? He takes them now for people of fashion.\"\n\
\n\
The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she\n\
named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at\n\
him, to see how he bore it, and was not without the expectation\n\
of his decamping as fast as he could from such disgraceful\n\
companions. That he was _surprised_ by the connection was\n\
evident; he sustained it, however, with fortitude, and so far\n\
from going away, turned his back with them, and entered into\n\
conversation with <NAME>. Elizabeth could not but be\n\
pleased, could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should\n\
know she had some relations for whom there was no need to\n\
blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between\n\
them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her\n\
uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good\n\
manners.\n\
\n\
The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr.\n\
Darcy invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often\n\
as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering\n\
at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing\n\
out those parts of the stream where there was usually most\n\
sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was walking arm-in-arm with\n\
Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of wonder. Elizabeth\n\
said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the compliment\n\
must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was\n\
extreme, and continually was she repeating, \"Why is he so\n\
altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for _me_--it\n\
cannot be for _my_ sake that his manners are thus softened. My\n\
reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this.\n\
It is impossible that he should still love me.\"\n\
\n\
After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front,\n\
the two gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after\n\
descending to the brink of the river for the better inspection of\n\
some curious water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration.\n\
It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of\n\
the morning, found Elizabeth\'s arm inadequate to her support, and\n\
consequently preferred her husband\'s. <NAME> took her place\n\
by her niece, and they walked on together. After a short silence,\n\
the lady first spoke. She wished him to know that she had\n\
been assured of his absence before she came to the place, and\n\
accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been very\n\
unexpected--\"for your housekeeper,\" she added, \"informed us that\n\
you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and indeed, before\n\
we left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately\n\
expected in the country.\" He acknowledged the truth of it all,\n\
and said that business with his steward had occasioned his coming\n\
forward a few hours before the rest of the party with whom he\n\
had been travelling. \"They will join me early to-morrow,\" he\n\
continued, \"and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance\n\
with you--Mr. Bingley and his sisters.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were\n\
instantly driven back to the time when <NAME>\'s name had\n\
been the last mentioned between them; and, if she might judge\n\
by his complexion, _his_ mind was not very differently engaged.\n\
\n\
\"There is also one other person in the party,\" he continued after\n\
a pause, \"who more particularly wishes to be known to you.\n\
Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister\n\
to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?\"\n\
\n\
The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too\n\
great for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She\n\
immediately felt that whatever desire <NAME> might have of\n\
being acquainted with her must be the work of her brother, and,\n\
without looking farther, it was satisfactory; it was gratifying to\n\
know that his resentment had not made him think really ill of her.\n\
\n\
They now walked on in silence, each of them deep in thought.\n\
Elizabeth was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was\n\
flattered and pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her\n\
was a compliment of the highest kind. They soon outstripped the\n\
others, and when they had reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs.\n\
Gardiner were half a quarter of a mile behind.\n\
\n\
He then asked her to walk into the house--but she declared\n\
herself not tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At\n\
such a time much might have been said, and silence was very\n\
awkward. She wanted to talk, but there seemed to be an\n\
embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that she had\n\
been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and <NAME> with\n\
great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly--and\n\
her patience and her ideas were nearly worn our before the\n\
tete-a-tete was over. On Mr. and <NAME>\'s coming up\n\
they were all pressed to go into the house and take some\n\
refreshment; but this was declined, and they parted on each\n\
side with utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the ladies into\n\
the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him walking\n\
slowly towards the house.\n\
\n\
The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of\n\
them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they\n\
had expected. \"He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and\n\
unassuming,\" said her uncle.\n\
\n\
\"There _is_ something a little stately in him, to be sure,\" replied\n\
her aunt, \"but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming.\n\
I can now say with the housekeeper, that though some people may\n\
call him proud, I have seen nothing of it.\"\n\
\n\
\"I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was\n\
more than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no\n\
necessity for such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth\n\
was very trifling.\"\n\
\n\
\"To be sure, Lizzy,\" said her aunt, \"he is not so handsome as\n\
Wickham; or, rather, he has not Wickham\'s countenance, for\n\
his features are perfectly good. But how came you to tell me\n\
that he was so disagreeable?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could; said that she had\n\
liked him better when they had met in Kent than before, and that\n\
she had never seen him so pleasant as this morning.\n\
\n\
\"But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,\"\n\
replied her uncle. \"Your great men often are; and therefore I\n\
shall not take him at his word, as he might change his mind\n\
another day, and warn me off his grounds.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth felt that they had entirely misunderstood his character,\n\
but said nothing.\n\
\n\
\"From what we have seen of him,\" continued Mrs. Gardiner, \"I\n\
really should not have thought that he could have behaved in so\n\
cruel a way by anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He\n\
has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, there is something\n\
pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. And there is something\n\
of dignity in his countenance that would not give one an\n\
unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the good lady\n\
who showed us his house did give him a most flaming character!\n\
I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a\n\
liberal master, I suppose, and _that_ in the eye of a servant\n\
comprehends every virtue.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in\n\
vindication of his behaviour to Wickham; and therefore gave\n\
them to understand, in as guarded a manner as she could, that\n\
by what she had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions\n\
were capable of a very different construction; and that his\n\
character was by no means so faulty, nor Wickham\'s so amiable,\n\
as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation\n\
of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary\n\
transactions in which they had been connected, without actually\n\
naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be\n\
relied on.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned; but as they were\n\
now approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea\n\
gave way to the charm of recollection; and she was too much\n\
engaged in pointing out to her husband all the interesting spots\n\
in its environs to think of anything else. Fatigued as she had\n\
been by the morning\'s walk they had no sooner dined than she\n\
set off again in quest of her former acquaintance, and the\n\
evening was spent in the satisfactions of a intercourse renewed\n\
after many years\' discontinuance.\n\
\n\
The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave\n\
Elizabeth much attention for any of these new friends; and she\n\
could do nothing but think, and think with wonder, of Mr.\n\
Darcy\'s civility, and, above all, of his wishing her to be\n\
acquainted with his sister.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 44\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister\n\
to visit her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was\n\
consequently resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole\n\
of that morning. But her conclusion was false; for on the very\n\
morning after their arrival at Lambton, these visitors came.\n\
They had been walking about the place with some of their new\n\
friends, and were just returning to the inn to dress themselves\n\
for dining with the same family, when the sound of a carriage\n\
drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and a lady\n\
in a curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth immediately\n\
recognizing the livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no\n\
small degree of her surprise to her relations by acquainting\n\
them with the honour which she expected. Her uncle and aunt\n\
were all amazement; and the embarrassment of her manner as\n\
she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many of the\n\
circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea\n\
on the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they\n\
felt that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions\n\
from such a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their\n\
niece. While these newly-born notions were passing in their heads,\n\
the perturbation of Elizabeth\'s feelings was at every moment\n\
increasing. She was quite amazed at her own discomposure; but\n\
amongst other causes of disquiet, she dreaded lest the partiality\n\
of the brother should have said too much in her favour; and, more\n\
than commonly anxious to please, she naturally suspected that\n\
every power of pleasing would fail her.\n\
\n\
She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as\n\
she walked up and down the room, endeavouring to compose\n\
herself, saw such looks of inquiring surprise in her uncle and\n\
aunt as made everything worse.\n\
\n\
<NAME> and her brother appeared, and this formidable\n\
introduction took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see\n\
that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as\n\
herself. Since her being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss\n\
Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of a very few\n\
minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy. She\n\
found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a\n\
monosyllable.\n\
\n\
<NAME> was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth;\n\
and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed,\n\
and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome\n\
than her brother; but there was sense and good humour in her\n\
face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.\n\
Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and\n\
unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was\n\
much relieved by discerning such different feelings.\n\
\n\
They had not long been together before <NAME> told her that\n\
Bingley was also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time\n\
to express her satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when\n\
Bingley\'s quick step was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he\n\
entered the room. All Elizabeth\'s anger against him had been\n\
long done away; but had she still felt any, it could hardly have\n\
stood its ground against the unaffected cordiality with which he\n\
expressed himself on seeing her again. He inquired in a friendly,\n\
though general way, after her family, and looked and spoke with\n\
the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.\n\
\n\
To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting\n\
personage than to herself. They had long wished to see him.\n\
The whole party before them, indeed, excited a lively attention.\n\
The suspicions which had just arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece\n\
directed their observation towards each with an earnest though\n\
guarded inquiry; and they soon drew from those inquiries the full\n\
conviction that one of them at least knew what it was to love.\n\
Of the lady\'s sensations they remained a little in doubt; but that\n\
the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was evident enough.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to\n\
ascertain the feelings of each of her visitors; she wanted to\n\
compose her own, and to make herself agreeable to all; and in\n\
the latter object, where she feared most to fail, she was most\n\
sure of success, for those to whom she endeavoured to give\n\
pleasure were prepossessed in her favour. Bingley was ready,\n\
Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be pleased.\n\
\n\
In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister;\n\
and, oh! how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were\n\
directed in a like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he\n\
talked less than on former occasions, and once or twice pleased\n\
herself with the notion that, as he looked at her, he was trying\n\
to trace a resemblance. But, though this might be imaginary,\n\
she could not be deceived as to his behaviour to <NAME>, who\n\
had been set up as a rival to Jane. No look appeared on either\n\
side that spoke particular regard. Nothing occurred between\n\
them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On this point\n\
she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances\n\
occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation,\n\
denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness,\n\
and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention of her,\n\
had he dared. He observed to her, at a moment when the others\n\
were talking together, and in a tone which had something of real\n\
regret, that it \"was a very long time since he had had the\n\
pleasure of seeing her;\" and, before she could reply, he added,\n\
\"It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of\n\
November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he\n\
afterwards took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by\n\
any of the rest, whether _all_ her sisters were at Longbourn.\n\
There was not much in the question, nor in the preceding\n\
remark; but there was a look and a manner which gave them\n\
meaning.\n\
\n\
It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy\n\
himself; but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an\n\
expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said\n\
she heard an accent so removed from _hauteur_ or disdain of his\n\
companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners\n\
which she had yesterday witnessed however temporary its\n\
existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she\n\
saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good\n\
opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago\n\
would have been a disgrace--when she saw him thus civil, not\n\
only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly\n\
disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford\n\
Parsonage--the difference, the change was so great, and struck\n\
so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her\n\
astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the company\n\
of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations\n\
at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free\n\
from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no\n\
importance could result from the success of his endeavours, and\n\
when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions\n\
were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of\n\
the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings.\n\
\n\
Their visitors stayed with them above half-an-hour; and when\n\
they arose to depart, <NAME> called on his sister to join him\n\
in expressing their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and\n\
<NAME>, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the\n\
country. <NAME>, though with a diffidence which marked\n\
her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily obeyed.\n\
<NAME> looked at her niece, desirous of knowing how _she_,\n\
whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its\n\
acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming\n\
however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary\n\
embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in\n\
her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect willingness to\n\
accept it, she ventured to engage for her attendance, and the\n\
day after the next was fixed on.\n\
\n\
Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing\n\
Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many\n\
inquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth,\n\
construing all this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister,\n\
was pleased, and on this account, as well as some others, found\n\
herself, when their visitors left them, capable of considering\n\
the last half-hour with some satisfaction, though while it was\n\
passing, the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to be alone,\n\
and fearful of inquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she\n\
stayed with them only long enough to hear their favourable\n\
opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress.\n\
\n\
But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner\'s curiosity;\n\
it was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident\n\
that she was much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they\n\
had before any idea of; it was evident that he was very much in\n\
love with her. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify\n\
inquiry.\n\
\n\
Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and,\n\
as far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find.\n\
They could not be untouched by his politeness; and had they\n\
drawn his character from their own feelings and his servant\'s\n\
report, without any reference to any other account, the circle\n\
in Hertfordshire to which he was known would not have recognized\n\
it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest, however, in\n\
believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible that\n\
the authority of a servant who had known him since he was four\n\
years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was\n\
not to be hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in\n\
the intelligence of their Lambton friends that could materially\n\
lessen its weight. They had nothing to accuse him of but pride;\n\
pride he probably had, and if not, it would certainly be imputed\n\
by the inhabitants of a small market-town where the family did\n\
not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he was a liberal\n\
man, and did much good among the poor.\n\
\n\
With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was\n\
not held there in much estimation; for though the chief of his\n\
concerns with the son of his patron were imperfectly understood,\n\
it was yet a well-known fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire,\n\
he had left many debts behind him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards\n\
discharged.\n\
\n\
As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening\n\
more than the last; and the evening, though as it passed it\n\
seemed long, was not long enough to determine her feelings\n\
towards _one_ in that mansion; and she lay awake two whole\n\
hours endeavouring to make them out. She certainly did not\n\
hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had\n\
almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against\n\
him, that could be so called. The respect created by the\n\
conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly\n\
admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her\n\
feeling; and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier\n\
nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing\n\
forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday\n\
had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there\n\
was a motive within her of goodwill which could not be\n\
overlooked. It was gratitude; gratitude, not merely for having\n\
once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive\n\
all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and\n\
all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who,\n\
she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy,\n\
seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the\n\
acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or\n\
any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were\n\
concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends,\n\
and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change\n\
in a man of so much pride exciting not only astonishment but\n\
gratitude--for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and\n\
as such its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as\n\
by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined.\n\
She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt\n\
a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how\n\
far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far\n\
it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the\n\
power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing\n\
on her the renewal of his addresses.\n\
\n\
It had been settled in the evening between the aunt and the\n\
niece, that such a striking civility as <NAME>\'s in coming to\n\
see them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she\n\
had reached it only to a late breakfast, ought to be imitated,\n\
though it could not be equalled, by some exertion of politeness\n\
on their side; and, consequently, that it would be highly\n\
expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning.\n\
They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though\n\
when she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in\n\
reply.\n\
\n\
<NAME> left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme\n\
had been renewed the day before, and a positive engagement\n\
made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before\n\
noon.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 45\n\
\n\
\n\
Convinced as Elizabeth now was that <NAME>\'s dislike of\n\
her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how\n\
unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and\n\
was curious to know with how much civility on that lady\'s side\n\
the acquaintance would now be renewed.\n\
\n\
On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into\n\
the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for\n\
summer. Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most\n\
refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house,\n\
and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were\n\
scattered over the intermediate lawn.\n\
\n\
In this house they were received by <NAME>, who was\n\
sitting there with <NAME> and <NAME>, and the lady\n\
with whom she lived in London. Georgiana\'s reception of them\n\
was very civil, but attended with all the embarrassment which,\n\
though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong,\n\
would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the\n\
belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her\n\
niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.\n\
\n\
By M<NAME> and <NAME> they were noticed only by a\n\
curtsey; and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such\n\
pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was\n\
first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agreeable-looking\n\
woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse\n\
proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the others;\n\
and between her and <NAME>, with occasional help from\n\
Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. <NAME> looked\n\
as if she wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes\n\
did venture a short sentence when there was least danger of its\n\
being heard.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss\n\
Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss\n\
Darcy, without calling her attention. This observation would not\n\
have prevented her from trying to talk to the latter, had they\n\
not been seated at an inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry\n\
to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts\n\
were employing her. She expected every moment that some of the\n\
gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she feared that\n\
the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether\n\
she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine.\n\
After sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without hearing\n\
<NAME>\'s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from\n\
her a cold inquiry after the health of her family. She answered\n\
with equal indifference and brevity, and the others said no more.\n\
\n\
The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by\n\
the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of\n\
all the finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till\n\
after many a significant look and smile from <NAME> to\n\
<NAME> had been given, to remind her of her post. There was\n\
now employment for the whole party--for though they could not all\n\
talk, they could all eat; and the beautiful pyramids of grapes,\n\
nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table.\n\
\n\
While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding\n\
whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr.\n\
Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room;\n\
and then, though but a moment before she had believed her\n\
wishes to predominate, she began to regret that he came.\n\
\n\
He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or\n\
three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river,\n\
and had left him only on learning that the ladies of the family\n\
intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he\n\
appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and\n\
unembarrassed; a resolution the more necessary to be made, but\n\
perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the\n\
suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, and\n\
that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his\n\
behaviour when he first came into the room. In no countenance\n\
was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in <NAME>\'s,\n\
in spite of the smiles which overspread her face whenever she\n\
spoke to one of its objects; for jealousy had not yet made her\n\
desperate, and her attentions to <NAME> were by no means\n\
over. <NAME>, on her brother\'s entrance, exerted herself\n\
much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for\n\
his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as much\n\
as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss\n\
Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger,\n\
took the first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility:\n\
\n\
\"Pray, <NAME>, are not the ----shire Militia removed from\n\
Meryton? They must be a great loss to _your_ family.\"\n\
\n\
In Darcy\'s presence she dared not mention Wickham\'s name;\n\
but Elizabeth instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in\n\
her thoughts; and the various recollections connected with him\n\
gave her a moment\'s distress; but exerting herself vigorously to\n\
repel the ill-natured attack, she presently answered the question\n\
in a tolerably detached tone. While she spoke, an involuntary\n\
glance showed her Darcy, with a heightened complexion,\n\
earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion,\n\
and unable to lift up her eyes. Had <NAME> known what\n\
pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly\n\
would have refrained from the hint; but she had merely intended\n\
to discompose Elizabeth by bringing forward the idea of a man\n\
to whom she believed her partial, to make her betray a sensibility\n\
which might injure her in Darcy\'s opinion, and, perhaps, to\n\
remind the latter of all the follies and absurdities by which\n\
some part of her family were connected with that corps. Not a\n\
syllable had ever reached her of M<NAME>\'s meditated\n\
elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy\n\
was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley\'s\n\
connections her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it,\n\
from the very wish which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to\n\
him, of their becoming hereafter her own. He had certainly\n\
formed such a plan, and without meaning that it should effect\n\
his endeavour to separate him from <NAME>, it is probable\n\
that it might add something to his lively concern for the welfare\n\
of his friend.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his\n\
emotion; and as <NAME>, vexed and disappointed, dared\n\
not approach nearer to Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in\n\
time, though not enough to be able to speak any more. Her\n\
brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely recollected her\n\
interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which had\n\
been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to\n\
have fixed them on her more and more cheerfully.\n\
\n\
Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer\n\
above mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to\n\
their carriage <NAME> was venting her feelings in criticisms\n\
on Elizabeth\'s person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana\n\
would not join her. Her brother\'s recommendation was enough\n\
to ensure her favour; his judgement could not err. And he had\n\
spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana without\n\
the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable.\n\
When Darcy returned to the saloon, <NAME> could not help\n\
repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his\n\
sister.\n\
\n\
\"How very ill <NAME> looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,\"\n\
she cried; \"I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she\n\
is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa\n\
and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.\"\n\
\n\
However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he\n\
contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no\n\
other alteration than her being rather tanned, no miraculous\n\
consequence of travelling in the summer.\n\
\n\
\"For my own part,\" she rejoined, \"I must confess that I never\n\
could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her\n\
complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all\n\
handsome. Her nose wants character--there is nothing marked\n\
in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common\n\
way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so\n\
fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They\n\
have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her\n\
air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which\n\
is intolerable.\"\n\
\n\
Persuaded as <NAME> was that Darcy admired Elizabeth,\n\
this was not the best method of recommending herself; but\n\
angry people are not always wise; and in seeing him at last look\n\
somewhat nettled, she had all the success she expected. He was\n\
resolutely silent, however, and, from a determination of making\n\
him speak, she continued:\n\
\n\
\"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how\n\
amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I\n\
particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been\n\
dining at Netherfield, \'_She_ a beauty!--I should as soon call her\n\
mother a wit.\' But afterwards she seemed to improve on you,\n\
and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes,\" replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer,\n\
\"but _that_ was only when I first saw her, for it is many months\n\
since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of\n\
my acquaintance.\"\n\
\n\
He then went away, and <NAME> was left to all the\n\
satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave no one any\n\
pain but herself.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during\n\
their visit, as they returned, except what had particularly\n\
interested them both. The look and behaviour of everybody they\n\
had seen were discussed, except of the person who had mostly\n\
engaged their attention. They talked of his sister, his friends,\n\
his house, his fruit--of everything but himself; yet Elizabeth\n\
was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of him, and Mrs.\n\
Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece\'s beginning\n\
the subject.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 46\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a\n\
letter from Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this\n\
disappointment had been renewed on each of the mornings that\n\
had now been spent there; but on the third her repining was\n\
over, and her sister justified, by the receipt of two letters\n\
from her at once, on one of which was marked that it had been\n\
missent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as Jane\n\
had written the direction remarkably ill.\n\
\n\
They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in;\n\
and her uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set\n\
off by themselves. The one missent must first be attended to;\n\
it had been written five days ago. The beginning contained an\n\
account of all their little parties and engagements, with such\n\
news as the country afforded; but the latter half, which was\n\
dated a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave more\n\
important intelligence. It was to this effect:\n\
\n\
\"Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred\n\
of a most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of\n\
alarming you--be assured that we are all well. What I have to\n\
say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night,\n\
just as we were all gone to bed, from <NAME>, to\n\
inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his\n\
officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise.\n\
To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I\n\
am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But\n\
I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been\n\
misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe\n\
him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad\n\
at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know\n\
my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly\n\
grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I that we\n\
never let them know what has been said against him; we must\n\
forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about twelve,\n\
as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at\n\
eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they\n\
must have passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives\n\
us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for\n\
his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for\n\
I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not\n\
be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written.\"\n\
\n\
Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely\n\
knowing what she felt, Elizabeth on finishing this letter instantly\n\
seized the other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read\n\
as follows: it had been written a day later than the conclusion of\n\
the first.\n\
\n\
\"By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried\n\
letter; I wish this may be more intelligible, but though not\n\
confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer\n\
for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would\n\
write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed.\n\
Imprudent as the marriage between Mr. Wickham and our poor\n\
Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken\n\
place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone\n\
to Scotland. <NAME> came yesterday, having left\n\
Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express.\n\
Though Lydia\'s short letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand\n\
that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped\n\
by Denny expressing his belief that W. never intended to go\n\
there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel\n\
F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B. intending to\n\
trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no\n\
further; for on entering that place, they removed into a hackney\n\
coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom.\n\
All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue\n\
the London road. I know not what to think. After making every\n\
possible inquiry on that side London, <NAME>. came on into\n\
Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and\n\
at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but without any success--no\n\
such people had been seen to pass through. With the kindest\n\
concern he came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions\n\
to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely\n\
grieved for him and <NAME>., but no one can throw any blame\n\
on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father\n\
and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him.\n\
Many circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be\n\
married privately in town than to pursue their first plan;\n\
and even if _he_ could form such a design against a young woman\n\
of Lydia\'s connections, which is not likely, can I suppose her\n\
so lost to everything? Impossible! I grieve to find, however,\n\
that <NAME>. is not disposed to depend upon their marriage;\n\
he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared\n\
W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill,\n\
and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be better;\n\
but this is not to be expected. And as to my father, I never in\n\
my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having\n\
concealed their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence,\n\
one cannot wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you\n\
have been spared something of these distressing scenes; but\n\
now, as the first shock is over, shall I own that I long for\n\
your return? I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it,\n\
if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen again to do what I\n\
have just told you I would not; but circumstances are such that\n\
I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as\n\
possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not\n\
afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to\n\
ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel\n\
Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do\n\
I am sure I know not; but his excessive distress will not allow\n\
him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and\n\
<NAME> is obliged to be at Brighton again to-morrow\n\
evening. In such an exigence, my uncle\'s advice and assistance\n\
would be everything in the world; he will immediately comprehend\n\
what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! where, where is my uncle?\" cried Elizabeth, darting from\n\
her seat as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him,\n\
without losing a moment of the time so precious; but as she\n\
reached the door it was opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy\n\
appeared. Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start,\n\
and before he could recover himself to speak, she, in whose\n\
mind every idea was superseded by Lydia\'s situation, hastily\n\
exclaimed, \"I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must\n\
find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be\n\
delayed; I have not an instant to lose.\"\n\
\n\
\"Good God! what is the matter?\" cried he, with more feeling\n\
than politeness; then recollecting himself, \"I will not detain you\n\
a minute; but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs.\n\
Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled under her and she\n\
felt how little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them.\n\
Calling back the servant, therefore, she commissioned him,\n\
though in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible,\n\
to fetch his master and mistress home instantly.\n\
\n\
On his quitting the room she sat down, unable to support\n\
herself, and looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible\n\
for Darcy to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone\n\
of gentleness and commiseration, \"Let me call your maid. Is\n\
there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A\n\
glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, I thank you,\" she replied, endeavouring to recover herself.\n\
\"There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am\n\
only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just\n\
received from Longbourn.\"\n\
\n\
She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes\n\
could not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense,\n\
could only say something indistinctly of his concern, and\n\
observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke\n\
again. \"I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful\n\
news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger sister\n\
has left all her friends--has eloped; has thrown herself into\n\
the power of--of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from\n\
Brighton. _You_ know him too well to doubt the rest. She has\n\
no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to--she\n\
is lost for ever.\"\n\
\n\
Darcy was fixed in astonishment. \"When I consider,\" she added\n\
in a yet more agitated voice, \"that I might have prevented it!\n\
I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of\n\
it only--some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his\n\
character been known, this could not have happened. But it is\n\
all--all too late now.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am grieved indeed,\" cried Darcy; \"grieved--shocked. But is\n\
it certain--absolutely certain?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and\n\
were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are\n\
certainly not gone to Scotland.\"\n\
\n\
\"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover\n\
her?\"\n\
\n\
\"My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my\n\
uncle\'s immediate assistance; and we shall be off, I hope, in\n\
half-an-hour. But nothing can be done--I know very well that\n\
nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How\n\
are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope.\n\
It is every way horrible!\"\n\
\n\
Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence.\n\
\n\
\"When _my_ eyes were opened to his real character--Oh! had I\n\
known what I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not--I\n\
was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched mistake!\"\n\
\n\
Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and\n\
was walking up and down the room in earnest meditation, his\n\
brow contracted, his air gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and\n\
instantly understood it. Her power was sinking; everything\n\
_must_ sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an\n\
assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither wonder\n\
nor condemn, but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing\n\
consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her\n\
distress. It was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make\n\
her understand her own wishes; and never had she so honestly felt\n\
that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain.\n\
\n\
But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her.\n\
Lydia--the humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all,\n\
soon swallowed up every private care; and covering her face with\n\
her handkerchief, Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else;\n\
and, after a pause of several minutes, was only recalled to a\n\
sense of her situation by the voice of her companion, who, in a\n\
manner which, though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint,\n\
said, \"I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor\n\
have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though\n\
unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be\n\
either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to\n\
such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which\n\
may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate\n\
affair will, I fear, prevent my sister\'s having the pleasure of\n\
seeing you at Pemberley to-day.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologise for us to <NAME>. Say\n\
that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the\n\
unhappy truth as long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long.\"\n\
\n\
He readily assured her of his secrecy; again expressed his sorrow\n\
for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was\n\
at present reason to hope, and leaving his compliments for her\n\
relations, with only one serious, parting look, went away.\n\
\n\
As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was\n\
that they should ever see each other again on such terms of\n\
cordiality as had marked their several meetings in Derbyshire;\n\
and as she threw a retrospective glance over the whole of their\n\
acquaintance, so full of contradictions and varieties, sighed\n\
at the perverseness of those feelings which would now have\n\
promoted its continuance, and would formerly have rejoiced in\n\
its termination.\n\
\n\
If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection,\n\
Elizabeth\'s change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor\n\
faulty. But if otherwise--if regard springing from such sources\n\
is unreasonable or unnatural, in comparison of what is so often\n\
described as arising on a first interview with its object, and even\n\
before two words have been exchanged, nothing can be said in\n\
her defence, except that she had given somewhat of a trial to the\n\
latter method in her partiality for Wickham, and that its ill\n\
success might, perhaps, authorise her to seek the other less\n\
interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him\n\
go with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia\'s infamy\n\
must produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that\n\
wretched business. Never, since reading Jane\'s second letter,\n\
had she entertained a hope of Wickham\'s meaning to marry her.\n\
No one but Jane, she thought, could flatter herself with such an\n\
expectation. Surprise was the least of her feelings on this\n\
development. While the contents of the first letter remained in\n\
her mind, she was all surprise--all astonishment that Wickham\n\
should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry\n\
for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had\n\
appeared incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For\n\
such an attachment as this she might have sufficient charms; and\n\
though she did not suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in\n\
an elopement without the intention of marriage, she had no\n\
difficulty in believing that neither her virtue nor her\n\
understanding would preserve her from falling an easy prey.\n\
\n\
She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire,\n\
that Lydia had any partiality for him; but she was convinced that\n\
Lydia wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody.\n\
Sometimes one officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite,\n\
as their attentions raised them in her opinion. Her affections\n\
had continually been fluctuating but never without an object.\n\
The mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence towards such a\n\
girl--oh! how acutely did she now feel it!\n\
\n\
She was wild to be at home--to hear, to see, to be upon the\n\
spot to share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly\n\
upon her, in a family so deranged, a father absent, a mother\n\
incapable of exertion, and requiring constant attendance; and\n\
though almost persuaded that nothing could be done for Lydia,\n\
her uncle\'s interference seemed of the utmost importance, and\n\
till he entered the room her impatience was severe. Mr. and\n\
Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing by the\n\
servant\'s account that their niece was taken suddenly ill; but\n\
satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated\n\
the cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud, and\n\
dwelling on the postscript of the last with trembling energy,\n\
though Lydia had never been a favourite with them, Mr. and\n\
Mrs. Gardiner could not but be deeply afflicted. Not Lydia\n\
only, but all were concerned in it; and after the first\n\
exclamations of surprise and horror, <NAME> promised\n\
every assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no\n\
less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being\n\
actuated by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was\n\
speedily settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. \"But\n\
what is to be done about Pemberley?\" cried Mrs. Gardiner.\n\
\"John told us <NAME> was here when you sent for us; was it\n\
so?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our\n\
engagement. _That_ is all settled.\"\n\
\n\
\"What is all settled?\" repeated the other, as she ran into her\n\
room to prepare. \"And are they upon such terms as for her to\n\
disclose the real truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!\"\n\
\n\
But wishes were vain, or at least could only serve to amuse her\n\
in the hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth\n\
been at leisure to be idle, she would have remained certain that\n\
all employment was impossible to one so wretched as herself;\n\
but she had her share of business as well as her aunt, and\n\
amongst the rest there were notes to be written to all their\n\
friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their sudden\n\
departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and\n\
Mr. Gardiner meanwhile having settled his account at the inn,\n\
nothing remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all\n\
the misery of the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of\n\
time than she could have supposed, seated in the carriage, and\n\
on the road to Longbourn.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 47\n\
\n\
\n\
\"I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,\" said her uncle,\n\
as they drove from the town; \"and really, upon serious\n\
consideration, I am much more inclined than I was to judge as\n\
your eldest sister does on the matter. It appears to me so very\n\
unlikely that any young man should form such a design against\n\
a girl who is by no means unprotected or friendless, and who\n\
was actually staying in his colonel\'s family, that I am strongly\n\
inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends\n\
would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again\n\
by the regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His\n\
temptation is not adequate to the risk!\"\n\
\n\
\"Do you really think so?\" cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a\n\
moment.\n\
\n\
\"Upon my word,\" said Mrs. Gardiner, \"I begin to be of your\n\
uncle\'s opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency,\n\
honour, and interest, for him to be guilty of. I cannot think\n\
so very ill of Wickham. Can you yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give\n\
him up, as to believe him capable of it?\"\n\
\n\
\"Not, perhaps, of neglecting his own interest; but of every other\n\
neglect I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so!\n\
But I dare not hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland\n\
if that had been the case?\"\n\
\n\
\"In the first place,\" replied Mr. Gardiner, \"there is no absolute\n\
proof that they are not gone to Scotland.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is\n\
such a presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be\n\
found on the Barnet road.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well, then--supposing them to be in London. They may be there,\n\
though for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptional\n\
purpose. It is not likely that money should be very abundant on\n\
either side; and it might strike them that they could be more\n\
economically, though less expeditiously, married in London\n\
than in Scotland.\"\n\
\n\
\"But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must\n\
their marriage be private? Oh, no, no--this is not likely.\n\
His most particular friend, you see by Jane\'s account, was\n\
persuaded of his never intending to marry her. Wickham will\n\
never marry a woman without some money. He cannot afford\n\
it. And what claims has Lydia--what attraction has she beyond\n\
youth, health, and good humour that could make him, for her\n\
sake, forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying\n\
well? As to what restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the\n\
corps might throw on a dishonourable elopement with her, I am\n\
not able to judge; for I know nothing of the effects that such a\n\
step might produce. But as to your other objection, I am afraid\n\
it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no brothers to step forward;\n\
and he might imagine, from my father\'s behaviour, from his\n\
indolence and the little attention he has ever seemed to give\n\
to what was going forward in his family, that _he_ would do as\n\
little, and think as little about it, as any father could do,\n\
in such a matter.\"\n\
\n\
\"But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love\n\
of him as to consent to live with him on any terms other than\n\
marriage?\"\n\
\n\
\"It does seem, and it is most shocking indeed,\" replied Elizabeth,\n\
with tears in her eyes, \"that a sister\'s sense of decency and\n\
virtue in such a point should admit of doubt. But, really,\n\
I know not what to say. Perhaps I am not doing her justice.\n\
But she is very young; she has never been taught to think\n\
on serious subjects; and for the last half-year, nay, for a\n\
twelvemonth--she has been given up to nothing but amusement\n\
and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the\n\
most idle and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that\n\
came in her way. Since the ----shire were first quartered in\n\
Meryton, nothing but love, flirtation, and officers have been\n\
in her head. She has been doing everything in her power by\n\
thinking and talking on the subject, to give greater--what shall\n\
I call it? susceptibility to her feelings; which are naturally\n\
lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every charm of\n\
person and address that can captivate a woman.\"\n\
\n\
\"But you see that Jane,\" said her aunt, \"does not think so very\n\
ill of Wickham as to believe him capable of the attempt.\"\n\
\n\
\"Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever\n\
might be their former conduct, that she would think capable of\n\
such an attempt, till it were proved against them? But Jane\n\
knows, as well as I do, what Wickham really is. We both know\n\
that he has been profligate in every sense of the word; that he\n\
has neither integrity nor honour; that he is as false and\n\
deceitful as he is insinuating.\"\n\
\n\
\"And do you really know all this?\" cried <NAME>, whose\n\
curiosity as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive.\n\
\n\
\"I do indeed,\" replied Elizabeth, colouring. \"I told you, the\n\
other day, of his infamous behaviour to <NAME>; and you\n\
yourself, when last at Longbourn, heard in what manner he\n\
spoke of the man who had behaved with such forbearance and\n\
liberality towards him. And there are other circumstances which\n\
I am not at liberty--which it is not worth while to relate; but\n\
his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From what\n\
he said of <NAME> I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud,\n\
reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself.\n\
He must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we\n\
have found her.\"\n\
\n\
\"But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of\n\
what you and Jane seem so well to understand?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes!--that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent,\n\
and saw so much both of <NAME> and his relation Colonel\n\
Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself. And when I\n\
returned home, the ----shire was to leave Meryton in a week or\n\
fortnight\'s time. As that was the case, neither Jane, to whom\n\
I related the whole, nor I, thought it necessary to make our\n\
knowledge public; for of what use could it apparently be to any\n\
one, that the good opinion which all the neighbourhood had of\n\
him should then be overthrown? And even when it was settled\n\
that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of opening\n\
her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That _she_ could\n\
be in any danger from the deception never entered my head.\n\
That such a consequence as _this_ could ensue, you may easily\n\
believe, was far enough from my thoughts.\"\n\
\n\
\"When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no\n\
reason, I suppose, to believe them fond of each other?\"\n\
\n\
\"Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on\n\
either side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you\n\
must be aware that ours is not a family on which it could be\n\
thrown away. When first he entered the corps, she was ready\n\
enough to admire him; but so we all were. Every girl in or\n\
near Meryton was out of her senses about him for the first\n\
two months; but he never distinguished _her_ by any particular\n\
attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of\n\
extravagant and wild admiration, her fancy for him gave\n\
way, and others of the regiment, who treated her with more\n\
distinction, again became her favourites.\"\n\
\n\
* * * * *\n\
\n\
It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be\n\
added to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting\n\
subject, by its repeated discussion, no other could detain them\n\
from it long, during the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth\'s\n\
thoughts it was never absent. Fixed there by the keenest of all\n\
anguish, self-reproach, she could find no interval of ease or\n\
forgetfulness.\n\
\n\
They travelled as expeditiously as possible, and, sleeping one\n\
night on the road, reached Longbourn by dinner time the next\n\
day. It was a comfort to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could\n\
not have been wearied by long expectations.\n\
\n\
The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were\n\
standing on the steps of the house as they entered the paddock;\n\
and, when the carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise\n\
that lighted up their faces, and displayed itself over their whole\n\
bodies, in a variety of capers and frisks, was the first pleasing\n\
earnest of their welcome.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth jumped out; and, after giving each of them a hasty\n\
kiss, hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running\n\
down from her mother\'s apartment, immediately met her.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled\n\
the eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything\n\
had been heard of the fugitives.\n\
\n\
\"Not yet,\" replied Jane. \"But now that my dear uncle is come,\n\
I hope everything will be well.\"\n\
\n\
\"Is my father in town?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.\"\n\
\n\
\"And have you heard from him often?\"\n\
\n\
\"We have heard only twice. He wrote me a few lines on\n\
Wednesday to say that he had arrived in safety, and to give me\n\
his directions, which I particularly begged him to do. He merely\n\
added that he should not write again till he had something of\n\
importance to mention.\"\n\
\n\
\"And my mother--how is she? How are you all?\"\n\
\n\
\"My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are\n\
greatly shaken. She is upstairs and will have great satisfaction\n\
in seeing you all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room.\n\
Mary and Kitty, thank Heaven, are quite well.\"\n\
\n\
\"But you--how are you?\" cried Elizabeth. \"You look pale.\n\
How much you must have gone through!\"\n\
\n\
Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well;\n\
and their conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and\n\
Mrs. Gardiner were engaged with their children, was now put an\n\
end to by the approach of the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle\n\
and aunt, and welcomed and thanked them both, with alternate\n\
smiles and tears.\n\
\n\
When they were all in the drawing-room, the questions which\n\
Elizabeth had already asked were of course repeated by the\n\
others, and they soon found that Jane had no intelligence\n\
to give. The sanguine hope of good, however, which the\n\
benevolence of her heart suggested had not yet deserted her;\n\
she still expected that it would all end well, and that every\n\
morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her\n\
father, to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce\n\
their marriage.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few\n\
minutes\' conversation together, received them exactly as might\n\
be expected; with tears and lamentations of regret, invectives\n\
against the villainous conduct of Wickham, and complaints of\n\
her own sufferings and ill-usage; blaming everybody but the\n\
person to whose ill-judging indulgence the errors of her\n\
daughter must principally be owing.\n\
\n\
\"If I had been able,\" said she, \"to carry my point in going to\n\
Brighton, with all my family, _this_ would not have happened;\n\
but poor dear Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Why did\n\
the Forsters ever let her go out of their sight? I am sure there\n\
was some great neglect or other on their side, for she is not the\n\
kind of girl to do such a thing if she had been well looked after.\n\
I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge of her;\n\
but I was overruled, as I always am. Poor dear child! And\n\
now here\'s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight\n\
Wickham, wherever he meets him and then he will be killed, and\n\
what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out\n\
before he is cold in his grave, and if you are not kind to us,\n\
brother, I do not know what we shall do.\"\n\
\n\
They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and <NAME>,\n\
after general assurances of his affection for her and all her\n\
family, told her that he meant to be in London the very next day,\n\
and would assist Mr. Bennet in every endeavour for recovering\n\
Lydia.\n\
\n\
\"Do not give way to useless alarm,\" added he; \"though it is\n\
right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look\n\
on it as certain. It is not quite a week since they left Brighton.\n\
In a few days more we may gain some news of them; and till we\n\
know that they are not married, and have no design of marrying,\n\
do not let us give the matter over as lost. As soon as I get to\n\
town I shall go to my brother, and make him come home with\n\
me to Gracechurch Street; and then we may consult together as\n\
to what is to be done.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! my dear brother,\" replied Mrs. Bennet, \"that is exactly\n\
what I could most wish for. And now do, when you get to\n\
town, find them out, wherever they may be; and if they are\n\
not married already, _make_ them marry. And as for wedding\n\
clothes, do not let them wait for that, but tell Lydia she\n\
shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them, after they\n\
are married. And, above all, keep Mr. Bennet from fighting.\n\
Tell him what a dreadful state I am in, that I am frighted out\n\
of my wits--and have such tremblings, such flutterings, all\n\
over me--such spasms in my side and pains in my head, and\n\
such beatings at heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by\n\
day. And tell my dear Lydia not to give any directions about\n\
her clothes till she has seen me, for she does not know which\n\
are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how kind you are! I\n\
know you will contrive it all.\"\n\
\n\
But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest\n\
endeavours in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation\n\
to her, as well in her hopes as her fear; and after talking with\n\
her in this manner till dinner was on the table, they all left\n\
her to vent all her feelings on the housekeeper, who attended\n\
in the absence of her daughters.\n\
\n\
Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no\n\
real occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not\n\
attempt to oppose it, for they knew that she had not prudence\n\
enough to hold her tongue before the servants, while they\n\
waited at table, and judged it better that _one_ only of the\n\
household, and the one whom they could most trust should\n\
comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the subject.\n\
\n\
In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty,\n\
who had been too busily engaged in their separate apartments\n\
to make their appearance before. One came from her books,\n\
and the other from her toilette. The faces of both, however,\n\
were tolerably calm; and no change was visible in either, except\n\
that the loss of her favourite sister, or the anger which she had\n\
herself incurred in this business, had given more of fretfulness\n\
than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was\n\
mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a\n\
countenance of grave reflection, soon after they were seated\n\
at table:\n\
\n\
\"This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much\n\
talked of. But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into\n\
the wounded bosoms of each other the balm of sisterly consolation.\"\n\
\n\
Then, perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she\n\
added, \"Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw\n\
from it this useful lesson: that loss of virtue in a female is\n\
irretrievable; that one false step involves her in endless ruin;\n\
that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful; and\n\
that she cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the\n\
undeserving of the other sex.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much\n\
oppressed to make any reply. Mary, however, continued to\n\
console herself with such kind of moral extractions from the\n\
evil before them.\n\
\n\
In the afternoon, the two elder <NAME> were able to be\n\
for half-an-hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed\n\
herself of the opportunity of making any inquiries, which Jane\n\
was equally eager to satisfy. After joining in general\n\
lamentations over the dreadful sequel of this event, which\n\
Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and <NAME> could\n\
not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued the\n\
subject, by saying, \"But tell me all and everything about it\n\
which I have not already heard. Give me further particulars.\n\
What did <NAME> say? Had they no apprehension of\n\
anything before the elopement took place? They must have seen\n\
them together for ever.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME> did own that he had often suspected some\n\
partiality, especially on Lydia\'s side, but nothing to give him any\n\
alarm. I am so grieved for him! His behaviour was attentive and\n\
kind to the utmost. He _was_ coming to us, in order to assure us\n\
of his concern, before he had any idea of their not being gone to\n\
Scotland: when that apprehension first got abroad, it hastened\n\
his journey.\"\n\
\n\
\"And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did\n\
he know of their intending to go off? Had <NAME>\n\
seen Denny himself?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; but, when questioned by _him_, Denny denied knowing\n\
anything of their plans, and would not give his real opinion\n\
about it. He did not repeat his persuasion of their not\n\
marrying--and from _that_, I am inclined to hope, he might\n\
have been misunderstood before.\"\n\
\n\
\"And till <NAME> came himself, not one of you\n\
entertained a doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?\"\n\
\n\
\"How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains?\n\
I felt a little uneasy--a little fearful of my sister\'s happiness\n\
with him in marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been\n\
always quite right. My father and mother knew nothing of that;\n\
they only felt how imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then\n\
owned, with a very natural triumph on knowing more than the\n\
rest of us, that in Lydia\'s last letter she had prepared her for\n\
such a step. She had known, it seems, of their being in love with\n\
each other, many weeks.\"\n\
\n\
\"But not before they went to Brighton?\"\n\
\n\
\"No, I believe not.\"\n\
\n\
\"And did <NAME> appear to think well of Wickham\n\
himself? Does he know his real character?\"\n\
\n\
\"I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he\n\
formerly did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant.\n\
And since this sad affair has taken place, it is said that he\n\
left Meryton greatly in debt; but I hope this may be false.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew\n\
of him, this could not have happened!\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps it would have been better,\" replied her sister. \"But to\n\
expose the former faults of any person without knowing what\n\
their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable. We acted with\n\
the best intentions.\"\n\
\n\
\"Could <NAME> repeat the particulars of Lydia\'s note to\n\
his wife?\"\n\
\n\
\"He brought it with him for us to see.\"\n\
\n\
Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth.\n\
These were the contents:\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAR HARRIET,\n\
\n\
\"You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot\n\
help laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as\n\
soon as I am missed. I am going to <NAME>, and if you\n\
cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there\n\
is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel. I should\n\
never be happy without him, so think it no harm to be off. You\n\
need not send them word at Longbourn of my going, if you do\n\
not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater, when I\n\
write to them and sign my name \'<NAME>.\' What a good\n\
joke it will be! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make\n\
my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing\n\
with him to-night. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he\n\
knows all; and tell him I will dance with him at the next ball\n\
we meet, with great pleasure. I shall send for my clothes when\n\
I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to mend a\n\
great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed up.\n\
Good-bye. Give my love to <NAME>. I hope you will\n\
drink to our good journey.\n\
\n\
\"Your affectionate friend,\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!\" cried Elizabeth when she\n\
had finished it. \"What a letter is this, to be written at such\n\
a moment! But at least it shows that _she_ was serious on the\n\
subject of their journey. Whatever he might afterwards\n\
persuade her to, it was not on her side a _scheme_ of infamy.\n\
My poor father! how he must have felt it!\"\n\
\n\
\"I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word\n\
for full ten minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately,\n\
and the whole house in such confusion!\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! Jane,\" cried Elizabeth, \"was there a servant belonging to it\n\
who did not know the whole story before the end of the day?\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not know. I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a\n\
time is very difficult. My mother was in hysterics, and though\n\
I endeavoured to give her every assistance in my power, I am\n\
afraid I did not do so much as I might have done! But the\n\
horror of what might possibly happen almost took from me\n\
my faculties.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do\n\
not look well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had\n\
every care and anxiety upon yourself alone.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in\n\
every fatigue, I am sure; but I did not think it right for either\n\
of them. Kitty is slight and delicate; and Mary studies so much,\n\
that her hours of repose should not be broken in on. My aunt\n\
Phillips came to Longbourn on Tuesday, after my father went\n\
away; and was so good as to stay till Thursday with me. She\n\
was of great use and comfort to us all. And <NAME> has\n\
been very kind; she walked here on Wednesday morning to\n\
condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her\n\
daughters\', if they should be of use to us.\"\n\
\n\
\"She had better have stayed at home,\" cried Elizabeth; \"perhaps\n\
she _meant_ well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one\n\
cannot see too little of one\'s neighbours. Assistance is\n\
impossible; condolence insufferable. Let them triumph over us\n\
at a distance, and be satisfied.\"\n\
\n\
She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her\n\
father had intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery\n\
of his daughter.\n\
\n\
\"He meant I believe,\" replied Jane, \"to go to Epsom, the place\n\
where they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if\n\
anything could be made out from them. His principal object\n\
must be to discover the number of the hackney coach which\n\
took them from Clapham. It had come with a fare from London;\n\
and as he thought that the circumstance of a gentleman and lady\'s\n\
removing from one carriage into another might be remarked he\n\
meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow discover\n\
at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he\n\
determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be\n\
impossible to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do\n\
not know of any other designs that he had formed; but he was in\n\
such a hurry to be gone, and his spirits so greatly discomposed,\n\
that I had difficulty in finding out even so much as this.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 48\n\
\n\
\n\
The whole party were in hopes of a letter from <NAME> the\n\
next morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line\n\
from him. His family knew him to be, on all common occasions,\n\
a most negligent and dilatory correspondent; but at such a time\n\
they had hoped for exertion. They were forced to conclude that\n\
he had no pleasing intelligence to send; but even of _that_ they\n\
would have been glad to be certain. Mr. Gardiner had waited\n\
only for the letters before he set off.\n\
\n\
When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving\n\
constant information of what was going on, and their uncle\n\
promised, at parting, to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to\n\
Longbourn, as soon as he could, to the great consolation of his\n\
sister, who considered it as the only security for her husband\'s\n\
not being killed in a duel.\n\
\n\
M<NAME> and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire\n\
a few days longer, as the former thought her presence might be\n\
serviceable to her nieces. She shared in their attendance on\n\
Mrs. Bennet, and was a great comfort to them in their hours of\n\
freedom. Their other aunt also visited them frequently, and\n\
always, as she said, with the design of cheering and heartening\n\
them up--though, as she never came without reporting some\n\
fresh instance of Wickham\'s extravagance or irregularity, she\n\
seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than\n\
she found them.\n\
\n\
All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three\n\
months before, had been almost an angel of light. He was\n\
declared to be in debt to every tradesman in the place, and his\n\
intrigues, all honoured with the title of seduction, had been\n\
extended into every tradesman\'s family. Everybody declared\n\
that he was the wickedest young man in the world; and everybody\n\
began to find out that they had always distrusted the appearance\n\
of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above\n\
half of what was said, believed enough to make her former\n\
assurance of her sister\'s ruin more certain; and even Jane,\n\
who believed still less of it, became almost hopeless, more\n\
especially as the time was now come when, if they had gone to\n\
Scotland, which she had never before entirely despaired of,\n\
they must in all probability have gained some news of them.\n\
\n\
Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday his wife\n\
received a letter from him; it told them that, on his arrival,\n\
he had immediately found out his brother, and persuaded him to\n\
come to Gracechurch Street; that Mr. Bennet had been to\n\
Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival, but without gaining\n\
any satisfactory information; and that he was now determined\n\
to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet\n\
thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on\n\
their first coming to London, before they procured lodgings.\n\
Mr. Gardiner himself did not expect any success from this\n\
measure, but as his brother was eager in it, he meant to assist\n\
him in pursuing it. He added that Mr. Bennet seemed wholly\n\
disinclined at present to leave London and promised to write\n\
again very soon. There was also a postscript to this effect:\n\
\n\
\"I have written to <NAME> to desire him to find out,\n\
if possible, from some of the young man\'s intimates in the\n\
regiment, whether Wickham has any relations or connections\n\
who would be likely to know in what part of town he has now\n\
concealed himself. If there were anyone that one could apply\n\
to with a probability of gaining such a clue as that, it might be\n\
of essential consequence. At present we have nothing to guide\n\
us. <NAME> will, I dare say, do everything in his power\n\
to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps,\n\
Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living, better than\n\
any other person.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this\n\
deference to her authority proceeded; but it was not in her\n\
power to give any information of so satisfactory a nature as the\n\
compliment deserved. She had never heard of his having had\n\
any relations, except a father and mother, both of whom had\n\
been dead many years. It was possible, however, that some of\n\
his companions in the ----shire might be able to give more\n\
information; and though she was not very sanguine in expecting\n\
it, the application was a something to look forward to.\n\
\n\
Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most\n\
anxious part of each was when the post was expected. The\n\
arrival of letters was the grand object of every morning\'s\n\
impatience. Through letters, whatever of good or bad was to\n\
be told would be communicated, and every succeeding day was\n\
expected to bring some news of importance.\n\
\n\
But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived\n\
for their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins;\n\
which, as Jane had received directions to open all that came for\n\
him in his absence, she accordingly read; and Elizabeth, who\n\
knew what curiosities his letters always were, looked over her,\n\
and read it likewise. It was as follows:\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAR SIR,\n\
\n\
\"I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation\n\
in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now\n\
suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter\n\
from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that <NAME>\n\
and myself sincerely sympathise with you and all your respectable\n\
family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest\n\
kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove.\n\
No arguments shall be wanting on my part that can alleviate so\n\
severe a misfortune--or that may comfort you, under a circumstance\n\
that must be of all others the most afflicting to a parent\'s mind.\n\
The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison\n\
of this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is\n\
reason to suppose as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this\n\
licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter has proceeded from\n\
a faulty degree of indulgence; though, at the same time, for the\n\
consolation of yourself and <NAME>, I am inclined to think\n\
that her own disposition must be naturally bad, or she could not\n\
be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an age. Howsoever that\n\
may be, you are grievously to be pitied; in which opinion I am not\n\
only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by <NAME> and\n\
her daughter, to whom I have related the affair. They agree with\n\
me in apprehending that this false step in one daughter will be\n\
injurious to the fortunes of all the others; for who, as Lady\n\
Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect themselves\n\
with such a family? And this consideration leads me moreover\n\
to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event\n\
of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been\n\
involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me then advise you,\n\
dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off\n\
your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her\n\
to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense.\n\
\n\
\"I am, dear sir, etc., etc.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> did not write again till he had received an answer\n\
from <NAME>; and then he had nothing of a pleasant\n\
nature to send. It was not known that Wickham had a single\n\
relationship with whom he kept up any connection, and it\n\
was certain that he had no near one living. His former\n\
acquaintances had been numerous; but since he had been in the\n\
militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular\n\
friendship with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who\n\
could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And\n\
in the wretched state of his own finances, there was a very\n\
powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery\n\
by Lydia\'s relations, for it had just transpired that he had\n\
left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount.\n\
<NAME> believed that more than a thousand pounds\n\
would be necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed\n\
a good deal in town, but his debts of honour were still more\n\
formidable. <NAME> did not attempt to conceal these\n\
particulars from the Longbourn family. Jane heard them with\n\
horror. \"A gamester!\" she cried. \"This is wholly unexpected.\n\
I had not an idea of it.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> added in his letter, that they might expect to see\n\
their father at home on the following day, which was Saturday.\n\
Rendered spiritless by the ill-success of all their endeavours, he\n\
had yielded to his brother-in-law\'s entreaty that he would return\n\
to his family, and leave it to him to do whatever occasion might\n\
suggest to be advisable for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs.\n\
Bennet was told of this, she did not express so much satisfaction\n\
as her children expected, considering what her anxiety for his\n\
life had been before.\n\
\n\
\"What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?\" she cried.\n\
\"Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who\n\
is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away?\"\n\
\n\
As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled\n\
that she and the children should go to London, at the same time\n\
that Mr. Bennet came from it. The coach, therefore, took them\n\
the first stage of their journey, and brought its master back\n\
to Longbourn.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth\n\
and her Derbyshire friend that had attended her from that part\n\
of the world. His name had never been voluntarily mentioned\n\
before them by her niece; and the kind of half-expectation which\n\
Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their being followed by a letter\n\
from him, had ended in nothing. Elizabeth had received none\n\
since her return that could come from Pemberley.\n\
\n\
The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other\n\
excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing,\n\
therefore, could be fairly conjectured from _that_, though\n\
Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with\n\
her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known\n\
nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of Lydia\'s\n\
infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought,\n\
one sleepless night out of two.\n\
\n\
When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual\n\
philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in\n\
the habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had\n\
taken him away, and it was some time before his daughters had\n\
courage to speak of it.\n\
\n\
It was not till the afternoon, when he had joined them at tea,\n\
that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on\n\
her briefly expressing her sorrow for what he must have\n\
endured, he replied, \"Say nothing of that. Who should suffer\n\
but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it.\"\n\
\n\
\"You must not be too severe upon yourself,\" replied Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is\n\
so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life\n\
feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being\n\
overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough.\"\n\
\n\
\"Do you suppose them to be in London?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?\"\n\
\n\
\"And Lydia used to want to go to London,\" added Kitty.\n\
\n\
\"She is happy then,\" said her father drily; \"and her residence\n\
there will probably be of some duration.\"\n\
\n\
Then after a short silence he continued:\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your advice\n\
to me last May, which, considering the event, shows some\n\
greatness of mind.\"\n\
\n\
They were interrupted by <NAME>, who came to fetch her\n\
mother\'s tea.\n\
\n\
\"This is a parade,\" he cried, \"which does one good; it gives such\n\
an elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I\n\
will sit in my library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and\n\
give as much trouble as I can; or, perhaps, I may defer it till\n\
Kitty runs away.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am not going to run away, papa,\" said Kitty fretfully. \"If I\n\
should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.\"\n\
\n\
\"_You_ go to Brighton. I would not trust you so near it as\n\
Eastbourne for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to\n\
be cautious, and you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever\n\
to enter into my house again, nor even to pass through the\n\
village. Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up\n\
with one of your sisters. And you are never to stir out of doors\n\
till you can prove that you have spent ten minutes of every day\n\
in a rational manner.\"\n\
\n\
Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.\n\
\n\
\"Well, well,\" said he, \"do not make yourself unhappy. If you\n\
are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review\n\
at the end of them.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 49\n\
\n\
\n\
Two days after Mr. Bennet\'s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were\n\
walking together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw\n\
the housekeeper coming towards them, and, concluding that she\n\
came to call them to their mother, went forward to meet her;\n\
but, instead of the expected summons, when they approached\n\
her, she said to <NAME>, \"I beg your pardon, madam, for\n\
interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some\n\
good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.\"\n\
\n\
\"What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.\"\n\
\n\
\"Dear madam,\" cried <NAME>, in great astonishment, \"don\'t\n\
you know there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner?\n\
He has been here this half-hour, and master has had a letter.\"\n\
\n\
Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech.\n\
They ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from\n\
thence to the library; their father was in neither; and they\n\
were on the point of seeking him upstairs with their mother,\n\
when they were met by the butler, who said:\n\
\n\
\"If you are looking for my master, ma\'am, he is walking\n\
towards the little copse.\"\n\
\n\
Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall\n\
once more, and ran across the lawn after their father, who was\n\
deliberately pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side\n\
of the paddock.\n\
\n\
Jane, who was not so light nor so much in the habit of running\n\
as Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for\n\
breath, came up with him, and eagerly cried out:\n\
\n\
\"Oh, papa, what news--what news? Have you heard from my\n\
uncle?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes I have had a letter from him by express.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well, and what news does it bring--good or bad?\"\n\
\n\
\"What is there of good to be expected?\" said he, taking the\n\
letter from his pocket. \"But perhaps you would like to read it.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.\n\
\n\
\"Read it aloud,\" said their father, \"for I hardly know myself what\n\
it is about.\"\n\
\n\
\"Gracechurch Street, Monday,\n\
August 2.\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAR BROTHER,\n\
\n\
\"At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and\n\
such as, upon the whole, I hope it will give you satisfaction.\n\
Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to\n\
find out in what part of London they were. The particulars I\n\
reserve till we meet; it is enough to know they are discovered.\n\
I have seen them both--\"\n\
\n\
\"Then it is as I always hoped,\" cried Jane; \"they are married!\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth read on:\n\
\n\
\"I have seen them both. They are not married, nor can I find\n\
there was any intention of being so; but if you are willing to\n\
perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on your\n\
side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is\n\
required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement,\n\
her equal share of the five thousand pounds secured among your\n\
children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and,\n\
moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during\n\
your life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions\n\
which, considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying\n\
with, as far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall\n\
send this by express, that no time may be lost in bringing me\n\
your answer. You will easily comprehend, from these particulars,\n\
that Mr. Wickham\'s circumstances are not so hopeless as they\n\
are generally believed to be. The world has been deceived in\n\
that respect; and I am happy to say there will be some little\n\
money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle on my\n\
niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I conclude will\n\
be the case, you send me full powers to act in your name\n\
throughout the whole of this business, I will immediately give\n\
directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper settlement.\n\
There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming to town\n\
again; therefore stay quiet at Longbourn, and depend on my\n\
diligence and care. Send back your answer as fast as you can,\n\
and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that\n\
my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope\n\
you will approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again\n\
as soon as anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.,\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
\"Is it possible?\" cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. \"Can it\n\
be possible that he will marry her?\"\n\
\n\
\"Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we thought him,\" said\n\
her sister. \"My dear father, I congratulate you.\"\n\
\n\
\"And have you answered the letter?\" cried Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"No; but it must be done soon.\"\n\
\n\
Most earnestly did she then entreaty him to lose no more time\n\
before he wrote.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! my dear father,\" she cried, \"come back and write immediately.\n\
Consider how important every moment is in such a case.\"\n\
\n\
\"Let me write for you,\" said Jane, \"if you dislike the trouble\n\
yourself.\"\n\
\n\
\"I dislike it very much,\" he replied; \"but it must be done.\"\n\
\n\
And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards\n\
the house.\n\
\n\
\"And may I ask--\" said Elizabeth; \"but the terms, I suppose,\n\
must be complied with.\"\n\
\n\
\"Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.\"\n\
\n\
\"And they _must_ marry! Yet he is _such_ a man!\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done.\n\
But there are two things that I want very much to know; one is,\n\
how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about;\n\
and the other, how am I ever to pay him.\"\n\
\n\
\"Money! My uncle!\" cried Jane, \"what do you mean, sir?\"\n\
\n\
\"I mean, that no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so\n\
slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and\n\
fifty after I am gone.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is very true,\" said Elizabeth; \"though it had not occurred\n\
to me before. His debts to be discharged, and something still\n\
to remain! Oh! it must be my uncle\'s doings! Generous, good\n\
man, I am afraid he has distressed himself. A small sum could\n\
not do all this.\"\n\
\n\
\"No,\" said her father; \"Wickham\'s a fool if he takes her with a\n\
farthing less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to\n\
think so ill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship.\"\n\
\n\
\"Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a\n\
sum to be repaid?\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet made no answer, and each of them, deep in thought,\n\
continued silent till they reached the house. Their father then\n\
went on to the library to write, and the girls walked into the\n\
breakfast-room.\n\
\n\
\"And they are really to be married!\" cried Elizabeth, as soon\n\
as they were by themselves. \"How strange this is! And for\n\
_this_ we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as\n\
is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character,\n\
we are forced to rejoice. Oh, Lydia!\"\n\
\n\
\"I comfort myself with thinking,\" replied Jane, \"that he certainly\n\
would not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her.\n\
Though our kind uncle has done something towards clearing\n\
him, I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, or anything like\n\
it, has been advanced. He has children of his own, and may\n\
have more. How could he spare half ten thousand pounds?\"\n\
\n\
\"If he were ever able to learn what Wickham\'s debts have been,\"\n\
said Elizabeth, \"and how much is settled on his side on our\n\
sister, we shall exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for\n\
them, because Wickham has not sixpence of his own. The\n\
kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited. Their\n\
taking her home, and affording her their personal protection\n\
and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as years\n\
of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she\n\
is actually with them! If such goodness does not make her\n\
miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy! What a\n\
meeting for her, when she first sees my aunt!\"\n\
\n\
\"We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,\"\n\
said Jane: \"I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His\n\
consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is\n\
come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will\n\
steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly,\n\
and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their\n\
past imprudence forgotten.\"\n\
\n\
\"Their conduct has been such,\" replied Elizabeth, \"as neither\n\
you, nor I, nor anybody can ever forget. It is useless to talk\n\
of it.\"\n\
\n\
It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all\n\
likelihood perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went\n\
to the library, therefore, and asked their father whether he\n\
would not wish them to make it known to her. He was writing\n\
and, without raising his head, coolly replied:\n\
\n\
\"Just as you please.\"\n\
\n\
\"May we take my uncle\'s letter to read to her?\"\n\
\n\
\"Take whatever you like, and get away.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, and they went\n\
upstairs together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet:\n\
one communication would, therefore, do for all. After a slight\n\
preparation for good news, the letter was read aloud. Mrs.\n\
Bennet could hardly contain herself. As soon as Jane had read\n\
Mr. Gardiner\'s hope of Lydia\'s being soon married, her joy\n\
burst forth, and every following sentence added to its\n\
exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent from\n\
delight, as she had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation.\n\
To know that her daughter would be married was enough. She\n\
was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor humbled by any\n\
remembrance of her misconduct.\n\
\n\
\"My dear, dear Lydia!\" she cried. \"This is delightful indeed!\n\
She will be married! I shall see her again! She will be married\n\
at sixteen! My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be. I\n\
knew he would manage everything! How I long to see her! and\n\
to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes!\n\
I will write to my sister Gardiner about them directly. Lizzy,\n\
my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much he will\n\
give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell, Kitty, for\n\
Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear Lydia!\n\
How merry we shall be together when we meet!\"\n\
\n\
Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the\n\
violence of these transports, by leading her thoughts to the\n\
obligations which Mr. Gardiner\'s behaviour laid them all under.\n\
\n\
\"For we must attribute this happy conclusion,\" she added, \"in a\n\
great measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has\n\
pledged himself to assist <NAME> with money.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well,\" cried her mother, \"it is all very right; who should do it\n\
but her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and\n\
my children must have had all his money, you know; and it is the\n\
first time we have ever had anything from him, except a few\n\
presents. Well! I am so happy! In a short time I shall have\n\
a daughter married. <NAME>! How well it sounds! And\n\
she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in such a\n\
flutter, that I am sure I can\'t write; so I will dictate, and you\n\
write for me. We will settle with your father about the money\n\
afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.\"\n\
\n\
She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico,\n\
muslin, and cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very\n\
plentiful orders, had not Jane, though with some difficulty,\n\
persuaded her to wait till her father was at leisure to be\n\
consulted. One day\'s delay, she observed, would be of small\n\
importance; and her mother was too happy to be quite so\n\
obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head.\n\
\n\
\"I will go to Meryton,\" said she, \"as soon as I am dressed, and\n\
tell the good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come\n\
back, I can call on <NAME> and <NAME>. Kitty, run down\n\
and order the carriage. An airing would do me a great deal of\n\
good, I am sure. Girls, can I do anything for you in Meryton?\n\
Oh! Here comes Hill! My dear Hill, have you heard the good\n\
news? <NAME> is going to be married; and you shall all have\n\
a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received\n\
her congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly,\n\
took refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom.\n\
\n\
Poor Lydia\'s situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that\n\
it was no worse, she had need to be thankful. She felt it so;\n\
and though, in looking forward, neither rational happiness nor\n\
worldly prosperity could be justly expected for her sister, in\n\
looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago, she\n\
felt all the advantages of what they had gained.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 50\n\
\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet had very often wished before this period of his life\n\
that, instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an\n\
annual sum for the better provision of his children, and of his\n\
wife, if she survived him. He now wished it more than ever.\n\
Had he done his duty in that respect, Lydia need not have been\n\
indebted to her uncle for whatever of honour or credit could\n\
now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of prevailing on\n\
one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to be her\n\
husband might then have rested in its proper place.\n\
\n\
He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage\n\
to anyone should be forwarded at the sole expense of his\n\
brother-in-law, and he was determined, if possible, to find out\n\
the extent of his assistance, and to discharge the obligation\n\
as soon as he could.\n\
\n\
When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be\n\
perfectly useless, for, of course, they were to have a son. The\n\
son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should\n\
be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that\n\
means be provided for. Five daughters successively entered the\n\
world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. Bennet, for many\n\
years after Lydia\'s birth, had been certain that he would. This\n\
event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to\n\
be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy, and her\n\
husband\'s love of independence had alone prevented their\n\
exceeding their income.\n\
\n\
Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs.\n\
Bennet and the children. But in what proportions it should be\n\
divided amongst the latter depended on the will of the parents.\n\
This was one point, with regard to Lydia, at least, which was\n\
now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet could have no hesitation in\n\
acceding to the proposal before him. In terms of grateful\n\
acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though\n\
expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect\n\
approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil\n\
the engagements that had been made for him. He had never before\n\
supposed that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his\n\
daughter, it would be done with so little inconvenience to\n\
himself as by the present arrangement. He would scarcely be\n\
ten pounds a year the loser by the hundred that was to be paid\n\
them; for, what with her board and pocket allowance, and the\n\
continual presents in money which passed to her through her\n\
mother\'s hands, Lydia\'s expenses had been very little within\n\
that sum.\n\
\n\
That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side,\n\
too, was another very welcome surprise; for his wish at present\n\
was to have as little trouble in the business as possible. When\n\
the first transports of rage which had produced his activity in\n\
seeking her were over, he naturally returned to all his former\n\
indolence. His letter was soon dispatched; for, though dilatory\n\
in undertaking business, he was quick in its execution. He\n\
begged to know further particulars of what he was indebted to\n\
his brother, but was too angry with Lydia to send any message\n\
to her.\n\
\n\
The good news spread quickly through the house, and with\n\
proportionate speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne\n\
in the latter with decent philosophy. To be sure, it would\n\
have been more for the advantage of conversation had <NAME>\n\
Bennet come upon the town; or, as the happiest alternative,\n\
been secluded from the world, in some distant farmhouse.\n\
But there was much to be talked of in marrying her; and the\n\
good-natured wishes for her well-doing which had proceeded\n\
before from all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton lost but a\n\
little of their spirit in this change of circumstances, because\n\
with such an husband her misery was considered certain.\n\
\n\
It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been downstairs; but on\n\
this happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table,\n\
and in spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave\n\
a damp to her triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had\n\
been the first object of her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was\n\
now on the point of accomplishment, and her thoughts and her\n\
words ran wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials, fine\n\
muslins, new carriages, and servants. She was busily searching\n\
through the neighbourhood for a proper situation for her\n\
daughter, and, without knowing or considering what their\n\
income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and\n\
importance.\n\
\n\
\"Haye Park might do,\" said she, \"if the Gouldings could quit it--or\n\
the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but\n\
Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles\n\
from me; and as for <NAME>, the attics are dreadful.\"\n\
\n\
Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while\n\
the servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said\n\
to her: \"Mrs. Bennet, before you take any or all of these houses\n\
for your son and daughter, let us come to a right understanding.\n\
Into _one_ house in this neighbourhood they shall never have\n\
admittance. I will not encourage the impudence of either,\n\
by receiving them at Longbourn.\"\n\
\n\
A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was\n\
firm. It soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with\n\
amazement and horror, that her husband would not advance a\n\
guinea to buy clothes for his daughter. He protested that she\n\
should receive from him no mark of affection whatever on the\n\
occasion. M<NAME> could hardly comprehend it. That his\n\
anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable\n\
resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege without which\n\
her marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all she could\n\
believe possible. She was more alive to the disgrace which her\n\
want of new clothes must reflect on her daughter\'s nuptials, than\n\
to any sense of shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a\n\
fortnight before they took place.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the\n\
distress of the moment, been led to make <NAME> acquainted\n\
with their fears for her sister; for since her marriage would\n\
so shortly give the proper termination to the elopement, they\n\
might hope to conceal its unfavourable beginning from all those\n\
who were not immediately on the spot.\n\
\n\
She had no fear of its spreading farther through his means.\n\
There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more\n\
confidently depended; but, at the same time, there was no one\n\
whose knowledge of a sister\'s frailty would have mortified her\n\
so much--not, however, from any fear of disadvantage from it\n\
individually to herself, for, at any rate, there seemed a gulf\n\
impassable between them. Had Lydia\'s marriage been concluded\n\
on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that\n\
Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family where, to every\n\
other objection, would now be added an alliance and relationship\n\
of the nearest kind with a man whom he so justly scorned.\n\
\n\
From such a connection she could not wonder that he would shrink.\n\
The wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself\n\
of his feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation\n\
survive such a blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved;\n\
she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous\n\
of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it.\n\
She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of\n\
gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been\n\
happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet.\n\
\n\
What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know\n\
that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only four\n\
months ago, would now have been most gladly and gratefully\n\
received! He was as generous, she doubted not, as the most\n\
generous of his sex; but while he was mortal, there must be a\n\
triumph.\n\
\n\
She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man\n\
who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His\n\
understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have\n\
answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been\n\
to the advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness, his mind\n\
might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his\n\
judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must\n\
have received benefit of greater importance.\n\
\n\
But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring\n\
multitude what connubial felicity really was. An union of a\n\
different tendency, and precluding the possibility of the\n\
other, was soon to be formed in their family.\n\
\n\
How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable\n\
independence, she could not imagine. But how little of\n\
permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only\n\
brought together because their passions were stronger than\n\
their virtue, she could easily conjecture.\n\
\n\
* * * * *\n\
\n\
<NAME> soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet\'s\n\
acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurance of his\n\
eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his family; and\n\
concluded with entreaties that the subject might never be\n\
mentioned to him again. The principal purport of his letter was\n\
to inform them that <NAME> had resolved on quitting the\n\
militia.\n\
\n\
\"It was greatly my wish that he should do so,\" he added, \"as\n\
soon as his marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree\n\
with me, in considering the removal from that corps as highly\n\
advisable, both on his account and my niece\'s. It is <NAME>\'s\n\
intention to go into the regulars; and among his former friends,\n\
there are still some who are able and willing to assist him in\n\
the army. He has the promise of an ensigncy in General ----\'s\n\
regiment, now quartered in the North. It is an advantage to have\n\
it so far from this part of the kingdom. He promises fairly; and\n\
I hope among different people, where they may each have a character\n\
to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have written to\n\
<NAME>, to inform him of our present arrangements, and to\n\
request that he will satisfy the various creditors of <NAME>\n\
in and near Brighton, with assurances of speedy payment, for which\n\
I have pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of\n\
carrying similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom\n\
I shall subjoin a list according to his information? He has\n\
given in all his debts; I hope at least he has not deceived us.\n\
Haggerston has our directions, and all will be completed in a week.\n\
They will then join his regiment, unless they are first invited to\n\
Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs. Gardiner, that my niece is\n\
very desirous of seeing you all before she leaves the South. She\n\
is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to you and your\n\
mother.--Yours, etc.,\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham\'s\n\
removal from the ----shire as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do.\n\
But Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia\'s being\n\
settled in the North, just when she had expected most pleasure and\n\
pride in her company, for she had by no means given up her plan\n\
of their residing in Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment;\n\
and, besides, it was such a pity that Lydia should be taken from\n\
a regiment where she was acquainted with everybody, and had so\n\
many favourites.\n\
\n\
\"She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,\" said she, \"it will be quite\n\
shocking to send her away! And there are several of the young\n\
men, too, that she likes very much. The officers may not be so\n\
pleasant in General----\'s regiment.\"\n\
\n\
His daughter\'s request, for such it might be considered, of being\n\
admitted into her family again before she set off for the North,\n\
received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth,\n\
who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister\'s feelings and\n\
consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her\n\
parents, urged him so earnestly yet so rationally and so mildly,\n\
to receive her and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they\n\
were married, that he was prevailed on to think as they thought,\n\
and act as they wished. And their mother had the satisfaction\n\
of knowing that she would be able to show her married daughter\n\
in the neighbourhood before she was banished to the North. When\n\
Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he sent his\n\
permission for them to come; and it was settled, that as soon\n\
as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn.\n\
Elizabeth was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent\n\
to such a scheme, and had she consulted only her own inclination,\n\
any meeting with him would have been the last object of her wishes.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 51\n\
\n\
\n\
Their sister\'s wedding day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt\n\
for her probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage\n\
was sent to meet them at ----, and they were to return in it\n\
by dinner-time. Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss\n\
Bennets, and Jane more especially, who gave Lydia the feelings\n\
which would have attended herself, had she been the culprit,\n\
and was wretched in the thought of what her sister must endure.\n\
\n\
They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast room to\n\
receive them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet as the\n\
carriage drove up to the door; her husband looked impenetrably\n\
grave; her daughters, alarmed, anxious, uneasy.\n\
\n\
Lydia\'s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown\n\
open, and she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards,\n\
embraced her, and welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand,\n\
with an affectionate smile, to Wickham, who followed his lady;\n\
and wished them both joy with an alacrity which shewed no doubt\n\
of their happiness.\n\
\n\
Their reception from <NAME>, to whom they then turned, was\n\
not quite so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity;\n\
and he scarcely opened his lips. The easy assurance of the\n\
young couple, indeed, was enough to provoke him. Elizabeth was\n\
disgusted, and even <NAME> was shocked. Lydia was Lydia\n\
still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned\n\
from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when\n\
at length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took\n\
notice of some little alteration in it, and observed, with a\n\
laugh, that it was a great while since she had been there.\n\
\n\
Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself, but his\n\
manners were always so pleasing, that had his character and his\n\
marriage been exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy\n\
address, while he claimed their relationship, would have\n\
delighted them all. Elizabeth had not before believed him\n\
quite equal to such assurance; but she sat down, resolving\n\
within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of\n\
an impudent man. She blushed, and Jane blushed; but the\n\
cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no\n\
variation of colour.\n\
\n\
There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could\n\
neither of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to\n\
sit near Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in\n\
that neighbourhood, with a good humoured ease which she felt\n\
very unable to equal in her replies. They seemed each of them\n\
to have the happiest memories in the world. Nothing of the\n\
past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led voluntarily to\n\
subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for the\n\
world.\n\
\n\
\"Only think of its being three months,\" she cried, \"since I\n\
went away; it seems but a fortnight I declare; and yet there\n\
have been things enough happened in the time. Good gracious!\n\
when I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being married\n\
till I came back again! though I thought it would be very good\n\
fun if I was.\"\n\
\n\
Her father lifted up his eyes. Jane was distressed. Elizabeth\n\
looked expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw\n\
anything of which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued,\n\
\"Oh! mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married\n\
to-day? I was afraid they might not; and we overtook William\n\
Goulding in his curricle, so I was determined he should know\n\
it, and so I let down the side-glass next to him, and took off\n\
my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, so\n\
that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like\n\
anything.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up, and ran out of\n\
the room; and returned no more, till she heard them passing\n\
through the hall to the dining parlour. She then joined them\n\
soon enough to see Lydia, with anxious parade, walk up to her\n\
mother\'s right hand, and hear her say to her eldest sister,\n\
\"Ah! Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower,\n\
because I am a married woman.\"\n\
\n\
It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that\n\
embarrassment from which she had been so wholly free at first.\n\
Her ease and good spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs.\n\
Phillips, the Lucases, and all their other neighbours, and to\n\
hear herself called \"<NAME>\" by each of them; and in the\n\
mean time, she went after dinner to show her ring, and boast\n\
of being married, to <NAME> and the two housemaids.\n\
\n\
\"Well, mamma,\" said she, when they were all returned to the\n\
breakfast room, \"and what do you think of my husband? Is not\n\
he a charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I\n\
only hope they may have half my good luck. They must all go to\n\
Brighton. That is the place to get husbands. What a pity it\n\
is, mamma, we did not all go.\"\n\
\n\
\"Very true; and if I had my will, we should. But my dear\n\
Lydia, I don\'t at all like your going such a way off. Must\n\
it be so?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, lord! yes;--there is nothing in that. I shall like it\n\
of all things. You and papa, and my sisters, must come down\n\
and see us. We shall be at Newcastle all the winter, and I\n\
dare say there will be some balls, and I will take care to get\n\
good partners for them all.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should like it beyond anything!\" said her mother.\n\
\n\
\"And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my\n\
sisters behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for\n\
them before the winter is over.\"\n\
\n\
\"I thank you for my share of the favour,\" said Elizabeth;\n\
\"but I do not particularly like your way of getting husbands.\"\n\
\n\
Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them.\n\
Mr. Wickham had received his commission before he left London,\n\
and he was to join his regiment at the end of a fortnight.\n\
\n\
No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so\n\
short; and she made the most of the time by visiting about with\n\
her daughter, and having very frequent parties at home. These\n\
parties were acceptable to all; to avoid a family circle was\n\
even more desirable to such as did think, than such as did not.\n\
\n\
Wickham\'s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had\n\
expected to find it; not equal to Lydia\'s for him. She had\n\
scarcely needed her present observation to be satisfied, from\n\
the reason of things, that their elopement had been brought on\n\
by the strength of her love, rather than by his; and she would\n\
have wondered why, without violently caring for her, he chose\n\
to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain that his\n\
flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances;\n\
and if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist\n\
an opportunity of having a companion.\n\
\n\
Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on\n\
every occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him.\n\
He did every thing best in the world; and she was sure he would\n\
kill more birds on the first of September, than any body else\n\
in the country.\n\
\n\
One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with\n\
her two elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth:\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy, I never gave _you_ an account of my wedding, I believe.\n\
You were not by, when I told mamma and the others all about it.\n\
Are not you curious to hear how it was managed?\"\n\
\n\
\"No really,\" replied Elizabeth; \"I think there cannot be too\n\
little said on the subject.\"\n\
\n\
\"La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off.\n\
We were married, you know, at St. Clement\'s, because Wickham\'s\n\
lodgings were in that parish. And it was settled that we\n\
should all be there by eleven o\'clock. My uncle and aunt and\n\
I were to go together; and the others were to meet us at the\n\
church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss!\n\
I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to put\n\
it off, and then I should have gone quite distracted. And\n\
there was my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and\n\
talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. However, I\n\
did not hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking, you may\n\
suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would\n\
be married in his blue coat.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual; I thought it\n\
would never be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand,\n\
that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I\n\
was with them. If you\'ll believe me, I did not once put my\n\
foot out of doors, though I was there a fortnight. Not one\n\
party, or scheme, or anything. To be sure London was rather\n\
thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so\n\
just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was called away\n\
upon business to that horrid man <NAME>. And then, you\n\
know, when once they get together, there is no end of it.\n\
Well, I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my\n\
uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond the hour, we\n\
could not be married all day. But, luckily, he came back again\n\
in ten minutes\' time, and then we all set out. However, I\n\
recollected afterwards that if he had been prevented going,\n\
the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done\n\
as well.\"\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy!\" repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes!--he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But\n\
gracious me! I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word\n\
about it. I promised them so faithfully! What will Wickham\n\
say? It was to be such a secret!\"\n\
\n\
\"If it was to be secret,\" said Jane, \"say not another word on\n\
the subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! certainly,\" said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity;\n\
\"we will ask you no questions.\"\n\
\n\
\"Thank you,\" said Lydia, \"for if you did, I should certainly\n\
tell you all, and then Wickham would be angry.\"\n\
\n\
On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it\n\
out of her power, by running away.\n\
\n\
But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at\n\
least it was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy\n\
had been at her sister\'s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and\n\
exactly among people, where he had apparently least to do, and\n\
least temptation to go. Conjectures as to the meaning of it,\n\
rapid and wild, hurried into her brain; but she was satisfied\n\
with none. Those that best pleased her, as placing his conduct\n\
in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She could not\n\
bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, wrote\n\
a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what\n\
Lydia had dropt, if it were compatible with the secrecy which\n\
had been intended.\n\
\n\
\"You may readily comprehend,\" she added, \"what my curiosity\n\
must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us, and\n\
(comparatively speaking) a stranger to our family, should have\n\
been amongst you at such a time. Pray write instantly, and\n\
let me understand it--unless it is, for very cogent reasons,\n\
to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary;\n\
and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.\"\n\
\n\
\"Not that I _shall_, though,\" she added to herself, as she\n\
finished the letter; \"and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me\n\
in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks\n\
and stratagems to find it out.\"\n\
\n\
Jane\'s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to\n\
Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was\n\
glad of it;--till it appeared whether her inquiries would\n\
receive any satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 52\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her\n\
letter as soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in\n\
possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, where\n\
she was least likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of\n\
the benches and prepared to be happy; for the length of the\n\
letter convinced her that it did not contain a denial.\n\
\n\
\"Gracechurch street, Sept. 6.\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAR NIECE,\n\
\n\
\"I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole\n\
morning to answering it, as I foresee that a _little_ writing\n\
will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess\n\
myself surprised by your application; I did not expect it from\n\
_you_. Don\'t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let\n\
you know that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary\n\
on _your_ side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive\n\
my impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am--and\n\
nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would\n\
have allowed him to act as he has done. But if you are really\n\
innocent and ignorant, I must be more explicit.\n\
\n\
\"On the very day of my coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a\n\
most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called, and was shut up with him\n\
several hours. It was all over before I arrived; so my curiosity was\n\
not so dreadfully racked as _your\'s_ seems to have been. He came to\n\
tell Mr. Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and\n\
Mr. Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with them both;\n\
Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. From what I can collect, he left\n\
Derbyshire only one day after ourselves, and came to town with the\n\
resolution of hunting for them. The motive professed was his\n\
conviction of its being owing to himself that Wickham\'s worthlessness\n\
had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young\n\
woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously imputed\n\
the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before\n\
thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world.\n\
His character was to speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his\n\
duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been\n\
brought on by himself. If he _had another_ motive, I am sure it would\n\
never disgrace him. He had been some days in town, before he was able\n\
to discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was\n\
more than _we_ had; and the consciousness of this was another reason for\n\
his resolving to follow us.\n\
\n\
\"There is a lady, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago\n\
governess to <NAME>, and was dismissed from her charge on some\n\
cause of disapprobation, though he did not say what. She then took a\n\
large house in Edward-street, and has since maintained herself by\n\
letting lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, intimately\n\
acquainted with Wickham; and he went to her for intelligence of him as\n\
soon as he got to town. But it was two or three days before he could\n\
get from her what he wanted. She would not betray her trust, I\n\
suppose, without bribery and corruption, for she really did know where\n\
her friend was to be found. Wickham indeed had gone to her on their\n\
first arrival in London, and had she been able to receive them into\n\
her house, they would have taken up their abode with her. At length,\n\
however, our kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were\n\
in ---- street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing\n\
Lydia. His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to\n\
persuade her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to\n\
her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her,\n\
offering his assistance, as far as it would go. But he found Lydia\n\
absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none of\n\
her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of leaving\n\
Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or other, and\n\
it did not much signify when. Since such were her feelings, it only\n\
remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a marriage, which, in his\n\
very first conversation with Wickham, he easily learnt had never been\n\
_his_ design. He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment, on\n\
account of some debts of honour, which were very pressing; and\n\
scrupled not to lay all the ill-consequences of Lydia\'s flight on her\n\
own folly alone. He meant to resign his commission immediately; and\n\
as to his future situation, he could conjecture very little about it.\n\
He must go somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he should\n\
have nothing to live on.\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy asked him why he had not married your sister at once.\n\
Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have been\n\
able to do something for him, and his situation must have been\n\
benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, that\n\
Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making his\n\
fortune by marriage in some other country. Under such circumstances,\n\
however, he was not likely to be proof against the temptation of\n\
immediate relief.\n\
\n\
\"They met several times, for there was much to be discussed.\n\
Wickham of course wanted more than he could get; but at length\n\
was reduced to be reasonable.\n\
\n\
\"Every thing being settled between _them_, Mr. Darcy\'s next step was to\n\
make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch\n\
street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not be\n\
seen, and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was\n\
still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not\n\
judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as\n\
your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the\n\
departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next\n\
day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business.\n\
\n\
\"On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your uncle at home,\n\
and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk together.\n\
\n\
\"They met again on Sunday, and then _I_ saw him too. It was not all\n\
settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express was sent off to\n\
Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that\n\
obstinacy is the real defect of his character, after all. He has been\n\
accused of many faults at different times, but _this_ is the true one.\n\
Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself; though I am sure\n\
(and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say nothing about it),\n\
your uncle would most readily have settled the whole.\n\
\n\
\"They battled it together for a long time, which was more than either\n\
the gentleman or lady concerned in it deserved. But at last your\n\
uncle was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use\n\
to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable\n\
credit of it, which went sorely against the grain; and I really\n\
believe your letter this morning gave him great pleasure, because it\n\
required an explanation that would rob him of his borrowed feathers,\n\
and give the praise where it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no\n\
farther than yourself, or Jane at most.\n\
\n\
\"You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young\n\
people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to\n\
considerably more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addition\n\
to her own settled upon _her_, and his commission purchased. The reason\n\
why all this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have given\n\
above. It was owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper\n\
consideration, that Wickham\'s character had been so misunderstood, and\n\
consequently that he had been received and noticed as he was. Perhaps\n\
there was some truth in _this_; though I doubt whether _his_ reserve, or\n\
_anybody\'s_ reserve, can be answerable for the event. But in spite of\n\
all this fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured\n\
that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him\n\
credit for _another interest_ in the affair.\n\
\n\
\"When all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, who\n\
were still staying at Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be\n\
in London once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters\n\
were then to receive the last finish.\n\
\n\
\"I believe I have now told you every thing. It is a relation which you\n\
tell me is to give you great surprise; I hope at least it will not\n\
afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to us; and Wickham had\n\
constant admission to the house. _He_ was exactly what he had been,\n\
when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I would not tell you how little\n\
I was satisfied with her behaviour while she staid with us, if I had\n\
not perceived, by Jane\'s letter last Wednesday, that her conduct on\n\
coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what I now\n\
tell you can give you no fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in\n\
the most serious manner, representing to her all the wickedness of\n\
what she had done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her\n\
family. If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did\n\
not listen. I was sometimes quite provoked, but then I recollected my\n\
dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for their sakes had patience with her.\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and as Lydia informed you,\n\
attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, and was to leave\n\
town again on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me,\n\
my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never\n\
bold enough to say before) how much I like him. His behaviour to us\n\
has, in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire.\n\
His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a\n\
little more liveliness, and _that_, if he marry _prudently_, his wife\n\
may teach him. I thought him very sly;--he hardly ever mentioned your\n\
name. But slyness seems the fashion.\n\
\n\
\"Pray forgive me if I have been very presuming, or at least do not\n\
punish me so far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite\n\
happy till I have been all round the park. A low phaeton, with a nice\n\
little pair of ponies, would be the very thing.\n\
\n\
\"But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me this half\n\
hour.\n\
\n\
\"Yours, very sincerely,\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>.\"\n\
\n\
The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter\n\
of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether\n\
pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. The vague and\n\
unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced of what\n\
Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her sister\'s match,\n\
which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness\n\
too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be\n\
just, from the pain of obligation, were proved beyond their\n\
greatest extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to\n\
town, he had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification\n\
attendant on such a research; in which supplication had been\n\
necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and despise, and\n\
where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason with,\n\
persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always most wished\n\
to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to\n\
pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could\n\
neither regard nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had\n\
done it for her. But it was a hope shortly checked by other\n\
considerations, and she soon felt that even her vanity was\n\
insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her\n\
--for a woman who had already refused him--as able to overcome\n\
a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with\n\
Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must\n\
revolt from the connection. He had, to be sure, done much.\n\
She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason\n\
for his interference, which asked no extraordinary stretch of\n\
belief. It was reasonable that he should feel he had been wrong;\n\
he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and\n\
though she would not place herself as his principal inducement,\n\
she could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for her\n\
might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind\n\
must be materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly\n\
painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person\n\
who could never receive a return. They owed the restoration of\n\
Lydia, her character, every thing, to him. Oh! how heartily\n\
did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever\n\
encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him.\n\
For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud\n\
that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get\n\
the better of himself. She read over her aunt\'s commendation\n\
of him again and again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased\n\
her. She was even sensible of some pleasure, though mixed with\n\
regret, on finding how steadfastly both she and her uncle had\n\
been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between\n\
Mr. Darcy and herself.\n\
\n\
She was roused from her seat, and her reflections, by some\n\
one\'s approach; and before she could strike into another path,\n\
she was overtaken by Wickham.\n\
\n\
\"I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?\"\n\
said he, as he joined her.\n\
\n\
\"You certainly do,\" she replied with a smile; \"but it does not\n\
follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.\"\n\
\n\
\"I should be sorry indeed, if it were. We were always good\n\
friends; and now we are better.\"\n\
\n\
\"True. Are the others coming out?\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the\n\
carriage to Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from\n\
our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen Pemberley.\"\n\
\n\
She replied in the affirmative.\n\
\n\
\"I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would\n\
be too much for me, or else I could take it in my way to\n\
Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor\n\
Reynolds, she was always very fond of me. But of course she\n\
did not mention my name to you.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, she did.\"\n\
\n\
\"And what did she say?\"\n\
\n\
\"That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had\n\
--not turned out well. At such a distance as _that_, you\n\
know, things are strangely misrepresented.\"\n\
\n\
\"Certainly,\" he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she\n\
had silenced him; but he soon afterwards said:\n\
\n\
\"I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed\n\
each other several times. I wonder what he can be doing\n\
there.\"\n\
\n\
\"Perhaps preparing for his marriage with <NAME>,\" said\n\
Elizabeth. \"It must be something particular, to take him there\n\
at this time of year.\"\n\
\n\
\"Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton?\n\
I thought I understood from the Gardiners that you had.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes; he introduced us to his sister.\"\n\
\n\
\"And do you like her?\"\n\
\n\
\"Very much.\"\n\
\n\
\"I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within\n\
this year or two. When I last saw her, she was not very\n\
promising. I am very glad you liked her. I hope she will turn\n\
out well.\"\n\
\n\
\"I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.\"\n\
\n\
\"Did you go by the village of Kympton?\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not recollect that we did.\"\n\
\n\
\"I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to have\n\
had. A most delightful place!--Excellent Parsonage House!\n\
It would have suited me in every respect.\"\n\
\n\
\"How should you have liked making sermons?\"\n\
\n\
\"Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my\n\
duty, and the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought\n\
not to repine;--but, to be sure, it would have been such a\n\
thing for me! The quiet, the retirement of such a life would\n\
have answered all my ideas of happiness! But it was not to be.\n\
Did you ever hear Darcy mention the circumstance, when you were\n\
in Kent?\"\n\
\n\
\"I have heard from authority, which I thought _as good_,\n\
that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will of the\n\
present patron.\"\n\
\n\
\"You have. Yes, there was something in _that_; I told you so\n\
from the first, you may remember.\"\n\
\n\
\"I _did_ hear, too, that there was a time, when sermon-making\n\
was not so palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that\n\
you actually declared your resolution of never taking orders,\n\
and that the business had been compromised accordingly.\"\n\
\n\
\"You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may\n\
remember what I told you on that point, when first we talked\n\
of it.\"\n\
\n\
They were now almost at the door of the house, for she\n\
had walked fast to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her\n\
sister\'s sake, to provoke him, she only said in reply, with\n\
a good-humoured smile:\n\
\n\
\"Come, <NAME>, we are brother and sister, you know.\n\
Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we\n\
shall be always of one mind.\"\n\
\n\
She held out her hand; he kissed it with affectionate gallantry,\n\
though he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 53\n\
\n\
\n\
<NAME> was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation\n\
that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear\n\
sister Elizabeth, by introducing the subject of it; and she was\n\
pleased to find that she had said enough to keep him quiet.\n\
\n\
The day of his and Lydia\'s departure soon came, and Mrs. Bennet\n\
was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by\n\
no means entered into her scheme of their all going to\n\
Newcastle, was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth.\n\
\n\
\"Oh! my dear Lydia,\" she cried, \"when shall we meet again?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, lord! I don\'t know. Not these two or three years,\n\
perhaps.\"\n\
\n\
\"Write to me very often, my dear.\"\n\
\n\
\"As often as I can. But you know married women have never much\n\
time for writing. My sisters may write to _me_. They will\n\
have nothing else to do.\"\n\
\n\
Mr. Wickham\'s adieus were much more affectionate than his\n\
wife\'s. He smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty\n\
things.\n\
\n\
\"He is as fine a fellow,\" said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were\n\
out of the house, \"as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and\n\
makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy\n\
even Sir <NAME> himself to produce a more valuable\n\
son-in-law.\"\n\
\n\
The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for\n\
several days.\n\
\n\
\"I often think,\" said she, \"that there is nothing so bad as\n\
parting with one\'s friends. One seems so forlorn without\n\
them.\"\n\
\n\
\"This is the consequence, you see, Madam, of marrying a daughter,\"\n\
said Elizabeth. \"It must make you better satisfied that your\n\
other four are single.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is\n\
married, but only because her husband\'s regiment happens to be\n\
so far off. If that had been nearer, she would not have gone\n\
so soon.\"\n\
\n\
But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into\n\
was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to the\n\
agitation of hope, by an article of news which then began to be\n\
in circulation. The housekeeper at Netherfield had received\n\
orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming\n\
down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks.\n\
Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and\n\
smiled and shook her head by turns.\n\
\n\
\"Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,\"\n\
(for Mrs. Phillips first brought her the news). \"Well, so\n\
much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He is\n\
nothing to us, you know, and I am sure _I_ never want to\n\
see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come\n\
to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what _may_\n\
happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we\n\
agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so,\n\
is it quite certain he is coming?\"\n\
\n\
\"You may depend on it,\" replied the other, \"for <NAME>\n\
was in Meryton last night; I saw her passing by, and went out\n\
myself on purpose to know the truth of it; and she told me that\n\
it was certain true. He comes down on Thursday at the latest,\n\
very likely on Wednesday. She was going to the butcher\'s, she\n\
told me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and she\n\
has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> had not been able to hear of his coming without\n\
changing colour. It was many months since she had mentioned\n\
his name to Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone\n\
together, she said:\n\
\n\
\"I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of\n\
the present report; and I know I appeared distressed. But\n\
don\'t imagine it was from any silly cause. I was only confused\n\
for the moment, because I felt that I _should_ be looked at.\n\
I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with\n\
pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone;\n\
because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of\n\
_myself_, but I dread other people\'s remarks.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen\n\
him in Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of\n\
coming there with no other view than what was acknowledged; but\n\
she still thought him partial to Jane, and she wavered as to\n\
the greater probability of his coming there _with_ his friend\'s\n\
permission, or being bold enough to come without it.\n\
\n\
\"Yet it is hard,\" she sometimes thought, \"that this poor man\n\
cannot come to a house which he has legally hired, without\n\
raising all this speculation! I _will_ leave him to himself.\"\n\
\n\
In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be\n\
her feelings in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could\n\
easily perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They\n\
were more disturbed, more unequal, than she had often seen them.\n\
\n\
The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their\n\
parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward\n\
again.\n\
\n\
\"As soon as ever <NAME> comes, my dear,\" said Mrs. Bennet,\n\
\"you will wait on him of course.\"\n\
\n\
\"No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and\n\
promised, if I went to see him, he should marry one of my\n\
daughters. But it ended in nothing, and I will not be sent on\n\
a fool\'s errand again.\"\n\
\n\
His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an\n\
attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his\n\
returning to Netherfield.\n\
\n\
\"\'Tis an etiquette I despise,\" said he. \"If he wants our\n\
society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not\n\
spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they\n\
go away and come back again.\"\n\
\n\
\"Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do\n\
not wait on him. But, however, that shan\'t prevent my asking\n\
him to dine here, I am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and\n\
the Gouldings soon. That will make thirteen with ourselves, so\n\
there will be just room at table for him.\"\n\
\n\
Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear\n\
her husband\'s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know\n\
that her neighbours might all see <NAME>, in consequence\n\
of it, before _they_ did. As the day of his arrival drew near:\n\
\n\
\"I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,\" said Jane to her\n\
sister. \"It would be nothing; I could see him with perfect\n\
indifference, but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually\n\
talked of. My mother means well; but she does not know, no one\n\
can know, how much I suffer from what she says. Happy shall I\n\
be, when his stay at Netherfield is over!\"\n\
\n\
\"I wish I could say anything to comfort you,\" replied Elizabeth;\n\
\"but it is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the\n\
usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied\n\
me, because you have always so much.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of\n\
servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that\n\
the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her side might be as\n\
long as it could. She counted the days that must intervene\n\
before their invitation could be sent; hopeless of seeing\n\
him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in\n\
Hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressing-room window,\n\
enter the paddock and ride towards the house.\n\
\n\
Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane\n\
resolutely kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to\n\
satisfy her mother, went to the window--she looked,--she\n\
saw <NAME> with him, and sat down again by her sister.\n\
\n\
\"There is a gentleman with him, mamma,\" said Kitty; \"who can it be?\"\n\
\n\
\"Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I\n\
do not know.\"\n\
\n\
\"La!\" replied Kitty, \"it looks just like that man that used to\n\
be with him before. Mr. what\'s-his-name. That tall, proud\n\
man.\"\n\
\n\
\"Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!--and so it does, I vow. Well,\n\
any friend of Mr. Bingley\'s will always be welcome here, to be\n\
sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him.\"\n\
\n\
Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew\n\
but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt\n\
for the awkwardness which must attend her sister, in seeing him\n\
almost for the first time after receiving his explanatory\n\
letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable enough. Each felt\n\
for the other, and of course for themselves; and their mother\n\
talked on, of her dislike of <NAME>, and her resolution\n\
to be civil to him only as <NAME>\'s friend, without\n\
being heard by either of them. But Elizabeth had sources of\n\
uneasiness which could not be suspected by Jane, to whom she\n\
had never yet had courage to shew <NAME>\'s letter, or\n\
to relate her own change of sentiment towards him. To Jane,\n\
he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, and\n\
whose merit she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive\n\
information, he was the person to whom the whole family were\n\
indebted for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded\n\
herself with an interest, if not quite so tender, at least\n\
as reasonable and just as what Jane felt for Bingley. Her\n\
astonishment at his coming--at his coming to Netherfield, to\n\
Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal\n\
to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour\n\
in Derbyshire.\n\
\n\
The colour which had been driven from her face, returned for\n\
half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight\n\
added lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time\n\
that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken. But she\n\
would not be secure.\n\
\n\
\"Let me first see how he behaves,\" said she; \"it will then be\n\
early enough for expectation.\"\n\
\n\
She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without\n\
daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them\n\
to the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the\n\
door. Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate\n\
than Elizabeth had expected. On the gentlemen\'s appearing, her\n\
colour increased; yet she received them with tolerable ease,\n\
and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom\n\
of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and\n\
sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not\n\
often command. She had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He\n\
looked serious, as usual; and, she thought, more as he had been\n\
used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at\n\
Pemberley. But, perhaps he could not in her mother\'s presence\n\
be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful,\n\
but not an improbable, conjecture.\n\
\n\
Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that\n\
short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He\n\
was received by <NAME> with a degree of civility which\n\
made her two daughters ashamed, especially when contrasted with\n\
the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address\n\
to his friend.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the\n\
latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from\n\
irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful\n\
degree by a distinction so ill applied.\n\
\n\
Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and <NAME> did, a\n\
question which she could not answer without confusion, said\n\
scarcely anything. He was not seated by her; perhaps that\n\
was the reason of his silence; but it had not been so in\n\
Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends, when he could\n\
not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed without\n\
bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable\n\
to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised he eyes to his\n\
face, she as often found him looking at Jane as at herself, and\n\
frequently on no object but the ground. More thoughtfulness\n\
and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were\n\
plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry with\n\
herself for being so.\n\
\n\
\"Could I expect it to be otherwise!\" said she. \"Yet why did\n\
he come?\"\n\
\n\
She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself;\n\
and to him she had hardly courage to speak.\n\
\n\
She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.\n\
\n\
\"It is a long time, <NAME>, since you went away,\" said\n\
Mrs. Bennet.\n\
\n\
He readily agreed to it.\n\
\n\
\"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People\n\
_did_ say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas;\n\
but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have\n\
happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. M<NAME>\n\
is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose\n\
you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the\n\
papers. It was in The Times and The Courier, I know; though\n\
it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, \'Lately,\n\
<NAME>, Esq. to <NAME>,\' without there being\n\
a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or\n\
anything. It was my brother Gardiner\'s drawing up too, and I\n\
wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did\n\
you see it?\"\n\
\n\
Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations.\n\
Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked,\n\
therefore, she could not tell.\n\
\n\
\"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter\n\
well married,\" continued her mother, \"but at the same time,\n\
Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from\n\
me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward,\n\
it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long.\n\
His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his\n\
leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the regulars.\n\
Thank Heaven! he has _some_ friends, though perhaps not so\n\
many as he deserves.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was\n\
in such misery of shame, that she could hardly keep her seat.\n\
It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which\n\
nothing else had so effectually done before; and she asked\n\
Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at\n\
present. A few weeks, he believed.\n\
\n\
\"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,\"\n\
said her mother, \"I beg you will come here, and shoot as\n\
many as you please on Mr. Bennet\'s manor. I am sure he\n\
will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the\n\
best of the covies for you.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s misery increased, at such unnecessary, such\n\
officious attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at\n\
present as had flattered them a year ago, every thing, she was\n\
persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion.\n\
At that instant, she felt that years of happiness could not\n\
make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful\n\
confusion.\n\
\n\
\"The first wish of my heart,\" said she to herself, \"is never\n\
more to be in company with either of them. Their society can\n\
afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as\n\
this! Let me never see either one or the other again!\"\n\
\n\
Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no\n\
compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from\n\
observing how much the beauty of her sister re-kindled the\n\
admiration of her former lover. When first he came in, he had\n\
spoken to her but little; but every five minutes seemed to be\n\
giving her more of his attention. He found her as handsome as\n\
she had been last year; as good natured, and as unaffected,\n\
though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no difference\n\
should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that\n\
she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so busily engaged,\n\
that she did not always know when she was silent.\n\
\n\
When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of\n\
her intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to\n\
dine at Longbourn in a few days time.\n\
\n\
\"You are quite a visit in my debt, <NAME>,\" she added,\n\
\"for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take\n\
a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not\n\
forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed\n\
that you did not come back and keep your engagement.\"\n\
\n\
Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said\n\
something of his concern at having been prevented by business.\n\
They then went away.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and\n\
dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very good\n\
table, she did not think anything less than two courses could\n\
be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs,\n\
or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a\n\
year.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 54\n\
\n\
\n\
As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover\n\
her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption\n\
on those subjects that must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy\'s\n\
behaviour astonished and vexed her.\n\
\n\
\"Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,\"\n\
said she, \"did he come at all?\"\n\
\n\
She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.\n\
\n\
\"He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and\n\
aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me,\n\
why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent?\n\
Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him.\"\n\
\n\
Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by\n\
the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful\n\
look, which showed her better satisfied with their visitors,\n\
than Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"Now,\" said she, \"that this first meeting is over, I feel\n\
perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be\n\
embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on\n\
Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides,\n\
we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, very indifferent indeed,\" said Elizabeth, laughingly.\n\
\"Oh, Jane, take care.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger\n\
now?\"\n\
\n\
\"I think you are in very great danger of making him as much\n\
in love with you as ever.\"\n\
\n\
* * * * *\n\
\n\
They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and\n\
Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the\n\
happy schemes, which the good humour and common politeness\n\
of Bingley, in half an hour\'s visit, had revived.\n\
\n\
On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn;\n\
and the two who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of\n\
their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When\n\
they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to\n\
see whether Bingley would take the place, which, in all their\n\
former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her\n\
prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite\n\
him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to\n\
hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to\n\
smile: it was decided. He placed himself by her.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his\n\
friend. He bore it with noble indifference, and she would have\n\
imagined that Bingley had received his sanction to be happy,\n\
had she not seen his eyes likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy,\n\
with an expression of half-laughing alarm.\n\
\n\
His behaviour to her sister was such, during dinner time, as\n\
showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than\n\
formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself,\n\
Jane\'s happiness, and his own, would be speedily secured.\n\
Though she dared not depend upon the consequence, she yet\n\
received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It gave her\n\
all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in\n\
no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as\n\
the table could divide them. He was on one side of her mother.\n\
She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to\n\
either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near\n\
enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could see how\n\
seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was\n\
their manner whenever they did. Her mother\'s ungraciousness,\n\
made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth\'s\n\
mind; and she would, at times, have given anything to be\n\
privileged to tell him that his kindness was neither unknown\n\
nor unfelt by the whole of the family.\n\
\n\
She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity\n\
of bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would\n\
not pass away without enabling them to enter into something\n\
more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation\n\
attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the period which\n\
passed in the drawing-room, before the gentlemen came, was\n\
wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil.\n\
She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all\n\
her chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.\n\
\n\
\"If he does not come to me, _then_,\" said she, \"I shall give\n\
him up for ever.\"\n\
\n\
The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would\n\
have answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded\n\
round the table, where <NAME> was making tea, and\n\
Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy\n\
that there was not a single vacancy near her which would admit\n\
of a chair. And on the gentlemen\'s approaching, one of the\n\
girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper:\n\
\n\
\"The men shan\'t come and part us, I am determined. We want\n\
none of them; do we?\"\n\
\n\
Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She\n\
followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke,\n\
had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee; and\n\
then was enraged against herself for being so silly!\n\
\n\
\"A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish\n\
enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the\n\
sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second\n\
proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent\n\
to their feelings!\"\n\
\n\
She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his\n\
coffee cup himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying:\n\
\n\
\"Is your sister at Pemberley still?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, she will remain there till Christmas.\"\n\
\n\
\"And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?\"\n\
\n\
\"Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to\n\
Scarborough, these three weeks.\"\n\
\n\
She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to\n\
converse with her, he might have better success. He stood by\n\
her, however, for some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on\n\
the young lady\'s whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away.\n\
\n\
When the tea-things were removed, and the card-tables placed,\n\
the ladies all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon\n\
joined by him, when all her views were overthrown by seeing him\n\
fall a victim to her mother\'s rapacity for whist players, and\n\
in a few moments after seated with the rest of the party. She\n\
now lost every expectation of pleasure. They were confined for\n\
the evening at different tables, and she had nothing to hope,\n\
but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the\n\
room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen\n\
to supper; but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any\n\
of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.\n\
\n\
\"Well girls,\" said she, as soon as they were left to themselves,\n\
\"What say you to the day? I think every thing has passed off\n\
uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed\n\
as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn--and\n\
everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was\n\
fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases\' last week;\n\
and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were\n\
remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French\n\
cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in\n\
greater beauty. <NAME> said so too, for I asked her whether\n\
you did not. And what do you think she said besides? \'Ah! Mrs.\n\
Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last.\' She did\n\
indeed. I do think <NAME> is as good a creature as ever\n\
lived--and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not\n\
at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits; she had seen\n\
enough of Bingley\'s behaviour to Jane, to be convinced that she\n\
would get him at last; and her expectations of advantage to her\n\
family, when in a happy humour, were so far beyond reason, that\n\
she was quite disappointed at not seeing him there again the\n\
next day, to make his proposals.\n\
\n\
\"It has been a very agreeable day,\" said <NAME> to\n\
Elizabeth. \"The party seemed so well selected, so suitable\n\
one with the other. I hope we may often meet again.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth smiled.\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It\n\
mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy\n\
his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man,\n\
without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied,\n\
from what his manners now are, that he never had any design\n\
of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed\n\
with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of\n\
generally pleasing, than any other man.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are very cruel,\" said her sister, \"you will not let me\n\
smile, and are provoking me to it every moment.\"\n\
\n\
\"How hard it is in some cases to be believed!\"\n\
\n\
\"And how impossible in others!\"\n\
\n\
\"But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I\n\
acknowledge?\"\n\
\n\
\"That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all\n\
love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth\n\
knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do\n\
not make me your confidante.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 55\n\
\n\
\n\
A few days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and\n\
alone. His friend had left him that morning for London, but\n\
was to return home in ten days time. He sat with them above an\n\
hour, and was in remarkably good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited\n\
him to dine with them; but, with many expressions of concern,\n\
he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.\n\
\n\
\"Next time you call,\" said she, \"I hope we shall be more\n\
lucky.\"\n\
\n\
He should be particularly happy at any time, etc. etc.; and if\n\
she would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of\n\
waiting on them.\n\
\n\
\"Can you come to-morrow?\"\n\
\n\
Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her\n\
invitation was accepted with alacrity.\n\
\n\
He came, and in such very good time that the ladies were none\n\
of them dressed. In ran <NAME> to her daughter\'s room, in\n\
her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out:\n\
\n\
\"My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come--Mr.\n\
Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste.\n\
Here, Sarah, come to <NAME> this moment, and help her\n\
on with her gown. Never mind <NAME>\'s hair.\"\n\
\n\
\"We will be down as soon as we can,\" said Jane; \"but I dare say\n\
Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs\n\
half an hour ago.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick,\n\
be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?\"\n\
\n\
But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to\n\
go down without one of her sisters.\n\
\n\
The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again\n\
in the evening. After tea, <NAME> retired to the library,\n\
as was his custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument.\n\
Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet\n\
sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a\n\
considerable time, without making any impression on them.\n\
Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last Kitty did,\n\
she very innocently said, \"What is the matter mamma? What do\n\
you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?\"\n\
\n\
\"Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you.\" She then sat\n\
still five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious\n\
occasion, she suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, \"Come here,\n\
my love, I want to speak to you,\" took her out of the room.\n\
Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her\n\
distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty that _she_\n\
would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs. Bennet\n\
half-opened the door and called out:\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was forced to go.\n\
\n\
\"We may as well leave them by themselves you know;\" said her\n\
mother, as soon as she was in the hall. \"Kitty and I are going\n\
upstairs to sit in my dressing-room.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but\n\
remained quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were out of\n\
sight, then returned into the drawing-room.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet\'s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley\n\
was every thing that was charming, except the professed lover\n\
of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a\n\
most agreeable addition to their evening party; and he bore\n\
with the ill-judged officiousness of the mother, and heard all\n\
her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance\n\
particularly grateful to the daughter.\n\
\n\
He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he\n\
went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own\n\
and Mrs. Bennet\'s means, for his coming next morning to shoot\n\
with her husband.\n\
\n\
After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference.\n\
Not a word passed between the sisters concerning Bingley;\n\
but Elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all must\n\
speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy returned within the\n\
stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably persuaded\n\
that all this must have taken place with that gentleman\'s\n\
concurrence.\n\
\n\
Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet\n\
spent the morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter\n\
was much more agreeable than his companion expected. There was\n\
nothing of presumption or folly in Bingley that could provoke\n\
his ridicule, or disgust him into silence; and he was more\n\
communicative, and less eccentric, than the other had ever seen\n\
him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner; and in the\n\
evening Mrs. Bennet\'s invention was again at work to get every\n\
body away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a\n\
letter to write, went into the breakfast room for that purpose\n\
soon after tea; for as the others were all going to sit down to\n\
cards, she could not be wanted to counteract her mother\'s\n\
schemes.\n\
\n\
But on returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was\n\
finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was\n\
reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious for\n\
her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and\n\
Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in\n\
earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, the\n\
faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away\n\
from each other, would have told it all. Their situation\n\
was awkward enough; but _her\'s_ she thought was still worse.\n\
Not a syllable was uttered by either; and Elizabeth was on\n\
the point of going away again, when Bingley, who as well as\n\
the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few\n\
words to her sister, ran out of the room.\n\
\n\
Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence\n\
would give pleasure; and instantly embracing her, acknowledged,\n\
with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature\n\
in the world.\n\
\n\
\"\'Tis too much!\" she added, \"by far too much. I do not\n\
deserve it. Oh! why is not everybody as happy?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a\n\
warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every\n\
sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane.\n\
But she would not allow herself to stay with her sister, or say\n\
half that remained to be said for the present.\n\
\n\
\"I must go instantly to my mother;\" she cried. \"I would not on\n\
any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow\n\
her to hear it from anyone but myself. He is gone to my\n\
father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate\n\
will give such pleasure to all my dear family! how shall I\n\
bear so much happiness!\"\n\
\n\
She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken\n\
up the card party, and was sitting up stairs with Kitty.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity\n\
and ease with which an affair was finally settled, that had\n\
given them so many previous months of suspense and vexation.\n\
\n\
\"And this,\" said she, \"is the end of all his friend\'s anxious\n\
circumspection! of all his sister\'s falsehood and contrivance!\n\
the happiest, wisest, most reasonable end!\"\n\
\n\
In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference\n\
with her father had been short and to the purpose.\n\
\n\
\"Where is your sister?\" said he hastily, as he opened the door.\n\
\n\
\"With my mother up stairs. She will be down in a moment,\n\
I dare say.\"\n\
\n\
He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good\n\
wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and\n\
heartily expressed her delight in the prospect of their\n\
relationship. They shook hands with great cordiality; and\n\
then, till her sister came down, she had to listen to all he\n\
had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane\'s perfections;\n\
and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed\n\
all his expectations of felicity to be rationally founded,\n\
because they had for basis the excellent understanding, and\n\
super-excellent disposition of Jane, and a general similarity\n\
of feeling and taste between her and himself.\n\
\n\
It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the\n\
satisfaction of <NAME>\'s mind gave a glow of such sweet\n\
animation to her face, as made her look handsomer than ever.\n\
Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped her turn was coming soon.\n\
Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent or speak her approbation\n\
in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked\n\
to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when Mr.\n\
Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly\n\
showed how really happy he was.\n\
\n\
Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till\n\
their visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he\n\
was gone, he turned to his daughter, and said:\n\
\n\
\"Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.\"\n\
\n\
Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his\n\
goodness.\n\
\n\
\"You are a good girl;\" he replied, \"and I have great pleasure\n\
in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt\n\
of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means\n\
unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will\n\
ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat\n\
you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income.\"\n\
\n\
\"I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters\n\
would be unpardonable in me.\"\n\
\n\
\"Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,\" cried his wife,\n\
\"what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a\n\
year, and very likely more.\" Then addressing her daughter,\n\
\"Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan\'t\n\
get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I\n\
always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not\n\
be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw\n\
him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought\n\
how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is\n\
the handsomest young man that ever was seen!\"\n\
\n\
Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition\n\
her favourite child. At that moment, she cared for no other. Her\n\
younger sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects\n\
of happiness which she might in future be able to dispense.\n\
\n\
Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and\n\
Kitty begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.\n\
\n\
Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at\n\
Longbourn; coming frequently before breakfast, and always\n\
remaining till after supper; unless when some barbarous\n\
neighbour, who could not be enough detested, had given him\n\
an invitation to dinner which he thought himself obliged to\n\
accept.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her\n\
sister; for while he was present, Jane had no attention to\n\
bestow on anyone else; but she found herself considerably\n\
useful to both of them in those hours of separation that must\n\
sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always attached\n\
himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure of talking of her; and\n\
when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means\n\
of relief.\n\
\n\
\"He has made me so happy,\" said she, one evening, \"by telling\n\
me that he was totally ignorant of my being in town last\n\
spring! I had not believed it possible.\"\n\
\n\
\"I suspected as much,\" replied Elizabeth. \"But how did he\n\
account for it?\"\n\
\n\
\"It must have been his sister\'s doing. They were certainly no\n\
friends to his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at,\n\
since he might have chosen so much more advantageously in many\n\
respects. But when they see, as I trust they will, that their\n\
brother is happy with me, they will learn to be contented, and\n\
we shall be on good terms again; though we can never be what we\n\
once were to each other.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is the most unforgiving speech,\" said Elizabeth, \"that\n\
I ever heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed,\n\
to see you again the dupe of <NAME>\'s pretended regard.\"\n\
\n\
\"Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last\n\
November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of\n\
_my_ being indifferent would have prevented his coming down\n\
again!\"\n\
\n\
\"He made a little mistake to be sure; but it is to the credit\n\
of his modesty.\"\n\
\n\
This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his\n\
diffidence, and the little value he put on his own good\n\
qualities. Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not\n\
betrayed the interference of his friend; for, though Jane had\n\
the most generous and forgiving heart in the world, she knew\n\
it was a circumstance which must prejudice her against him.\n\
\n\
\"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!\"\n\
cried Jane. \"Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family,\n\
and blessed above them all! If I could but see _you_ as happy!\n\
If there _were_ but such another man for you!\"\n\
\n\
\"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so\n\
happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness,\n\
I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for\n\
myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet\n\
with another Mr. Collins in time.\"\n\
\n\
The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be\n\
long a secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to\n\
Mrs. Phillips, and she ventured, without any permission, to do\n\
the same by all her neighbours in Meryton.\n\
\n\
The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family\n\
in the world, though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had\n\
first run away, they had been generally proved to be marked out\n\
for misfortune.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 56\n\
\n\
\n\
One morning, about a week after Bingley\'s engagement with\n\
Jane had been formed, as he and the females of the family\n\
were sitting together in the dining-room, their attention\n\
was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage;\n\
and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn.\n\
It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, the\n\
equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours.\n\
The horses were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery\n\
of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. As it\n\
was certain, however, that somebody was coming, Bingley\n\
instantly prevailed on <NAME> to avoid the confinement of\n\
such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the shrubbery.\n\
They both set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three\n\
continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was\n\
thrown open and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine\n\
de Bourgh.\n\
\n\
They were of course all intending to be surprised; but their\n\
astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of\n\
Mrs. Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to\n\
them, even inferior to what Elizabeth felt.\n\
\n\
She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious,\n\
made no other reply to Elizabeth\'s salutation than a slight\n\
inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word.\n\
Elizabeth had mentioned her name to her mother on her ladyship\'s\n\
entrance, though no request of introduction had been made.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a\n\
guest of such high importance, received her with the utmost\n\
politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, she said\n\
very stiffly to Elizabeth,\n\
\n\
\"I hope you are well, <NAME>. That lady, I suppose,\n\
is your mother.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.\n\
\n\
\"And _that_ I suppose is one of your sisters.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, madam,\" said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady\n\
Catherine. \"She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of\n\
all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the\n\
grounds, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon\n\
become a part of the family.\"\n\
\n\
\"You have a very small park here,\" returned Lady Catherine\n\
after a short silence.\n\
\n\
\"It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say;\n\
but I assure you it is much larger than S<NAME>\'s.\"\n\
\n\
\"This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening,\n\
in summer; the windows are full west.\"\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner,\n\
and then added:\n\
\n\
\"May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you\n\
left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well.\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for\n\
her from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for\n\
her calling. But no letter appeared, and she was completely\n\
puzzled.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship to take\n\
some refreshment; but <NAME> very resolutely, and not\n\
very politely, declined eating anything; and then, rising up,\n\
said to Elizabeth,\n\
\n\
\"Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little\n\
wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take\n\
a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company.\"\n\
\n\
\"Go, my dear,\" cried her mother, \"and show her ladyship about\n\
the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the\n\
hermitage.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for her\n\
parasol, attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed\n\
through the hall, <NAME> opened the doors into the\n\
dining-parlour and drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after\n\
a short survey, to be decent looking rooms, walked on.\n\
\n\
Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her\n\
waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the\n\
gravel walk that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to\n\
make no effort for conversation with a woman who was now more\n\
than usually insolent and disagreeable.\n\
\n\
\"How could I ever think her like her nephew?\" said she, as she\n\
looked in her face.\n\
\n\
As soon as they entered the copse, <NAME> began in the\n\
following manner:--\n\
\n\
\"You can be at no loss, <NAME>, to understand the reason\n\
of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience,\n\
must tell you why I come.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.\n\
\n\
\"Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able\n\
to account for the honour of seeing you here.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>,\" replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, \"you\n\
ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however\n\
insincere _you_ may choose to be, you shall not find _me_ so.\n\
My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and\n\
frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall\n\
certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming\n\
nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your\n\
sister was on the point of being most advantageously married,\n\
but that you, that <NAME>, would, in all\n\
likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own\n\
nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I _know_ it must be a scandalous\n\
falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose\n\
the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off\n\
for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.\"\n\
\n\
\"If you believed it impossible to be true,\" said Elizabeth,\n\
colouring with astonishment and disdain, \"I wonder you took the\n\
trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by\n\
it?\"\n\
\n\
\"At once to insist upon having such a report universally\n\
contradicted.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,\" said\n\
Elizabeth coolly, \"will be rather a confirmation of it; if,\n\
indeed, such a report is in existence.\"\n\
\n\
\"If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not\n\
been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know\n\
that such a report is spread abroad?\"\n\
\n\
\"I never heard that it was.\"\n\
\n\
\"And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation\n\
for it?\"\n\
\n\
\"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship.\n\
You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.\"\n\
\n\
\"This is not to be borne. <NAME>, I insist on being\n\
satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of\n\
marriage?\"\n\
\n\
\"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.\"\n\
\n\
\"It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of\n\
his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment\n\
of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself\n\
and to all his family. You may have drawn him in.\"\n\
\n\
\"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.\"\n\
\n\
\"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed\n\
to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has\n\
in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.\"\n\
\n\
\"But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour\n\
as this, ever induce me to be explicit.\"\n\
\n\
\"Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have\n\
the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never.\n\
Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?\"\n\
\n\
\"Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose\n\
he will make an offer to me.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> hesitated for a moment, and then replied:\n\
\n\
\"The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their\n\
infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the\n\
favourite wish of _his_ mother, as well as of her\'s. While in\n\
their cradles, we planned the union: and now, at the moment\n\
when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their\n\
marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth,\n\
of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the\n\
family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends?\n\
To his tacit engagement with <NAME>? Are you lost to\n\
every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard\n\
me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his\n\
cousin?\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If\n\
there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall\n\
certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and\n\
aunt wished him to marry <NAME>. You both did as much\n\
as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended\n\
on others. If <NAME> is neither by honour nor inclination\n\
confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice?\n\
And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?\"\n\
\n\
\"Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it.\n\
Yes, <NAME>, interest; for do not expect to be noticed\n\
by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the\n\
inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and\n\
despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will\n\
be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any\n\
of us.\"\n\
\n\
\"These are heavy misfortunes,\" replied Elizabeth. \"But the\n\
wife of <NAME> must have such extraordinary sources of\n\
happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she\n\
could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.\"\n\
\n\
\"Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this\n\
your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is\n\
nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You are to\n\
understand, <NAME>, that I came here with the determined\n\
resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded\n\
from it. I have not been used to submit to any person\'s whims.\n\
I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.\"\n\
\n\
\"_That_ will make your ladyship\'s situation at present more\n\
pitiable; but it will have no effect on me.\"\n\
\n\
\"I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter\n\
and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended,\n\
on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the\n\
father\'s, from respectable, honourable, and ancient--though\n\
untitled--families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid.\n\
They are destined for each other by the voice of every member\n\
of their respective houses; and what is to divide them?\n\
The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family,\n\
connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured! But it\n\
must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own\n\
good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you\n\
have been brought up.\"\n\
\n\
\"In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as\n\
quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman\'s\n\
daughter; so far we are equal.\"\n\
\n\
\"True. You _are_ a gentleman\'s daughter. But who was your\n\
mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me\n\
ignorant of their condition.\"\n\
\n\
\"Whatever my connections may be,\" said Elizabeth, \"if your\n\
nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to _you_.\"\n\
\n\
\"Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?\"\n\
\n\
Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging\n\
<NAME>, have answered this question, she could not but\n\
say, after a moment\'s deliberation:\n\
\n\
\"I am not.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> seemed pleased.\n\
\n\
\"And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?\"\n\
\n\
\"I will make no promise of the kind.\"\n\
\n\
\"Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a\n\
more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into\n\
a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you\n\
have given me the assurance I require.\"\n\
\n\
\"And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be intimidated\n\
into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants\n\
Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter; but would my giving you the\n\
wished-for promise make their marriage at all more probable?\n\
Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept\n\
his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to\n\
say, <NAME>, that the arguments with which you have\n\
supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous\n\
as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my\n\
character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions\n\
as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference\n\
in his affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right\n\
to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be\n\
importuned no farther on the subject.\"\n\
\n\
\"Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done.\n\
To all the objections I have already urged, I have still\n\
another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of your\n\
youngest sister\'s infamous elopement. I know it all; that\n\
the young man\'s marrying her was a patched-up business, at the\n\
expence of your father and uncles. And is such a girl to be\n\
my nephew\'s sister? Is her husband, is the son of his late\n\
father\'s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!--of\n\
what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be\n\
thus polluted?\"\n\
\n\
\"You can now have nothing further to say,\" she resentfully\n\
answered. \"You have insulted me in every possible method.\n\
I must beg to return to the house.\"\n\
\n\
And she rose as she spoke. <NAME> rose also, and they\n\
turned back. Her ladyship was highly incensed.\n\
\n\
\"You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my\n\
nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that\n\
a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of\n\
everybody?\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME>, I have nothing further to say. You know my\n\
sentiments.\"\n\
\n\
\"You are then resolved to have him?\"\n\
\n\
\"I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that\n\
manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness,\n\
without reference to _you_, or to any person so wholly unconnected\n\
with me.\"\n\
\n\
\"It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to\n\
obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are\n\
determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends,\n\
and make him the contempt of the world.\"\n\
\n\
\"Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,\" replied Elizabeth,\n\
\"have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. No\n\
principle of either would be violated by my marriage with\n\
Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the resentment of his family, or\n\
the indignation of the world, if the former _were_ excited by his\n\
marrying me, it would not give me one moment\'s concern--and\n\
the world in general would have too much sense to join in the\n\
scorn.\"\n\
\n\
\"And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve!\n\
Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss\n\
Bennet, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to\n\
try you. I hoped to find you reasonable; but, depend upon it,\n\
I will carry my point.\"\n\
\n\
In this manner <NAME> talked on, till they were at the\n\
door of the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,\n\
\"I take no leave of you, <NAME>. I send no compliments to\n\
your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most\n\
seriously displeased.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade\n\
her ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it\n\
herself. She heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded\n\
up stairs. Her mother impatiently met her at the door of the\n\
dressing-room, to ask why <NAME> would not come in\n\
again and rest herself.\n\
\n\
\"She did not choose it,\" said her daughter, \"she would go.\"\n\
\n\
\"She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was\n\
prodigiously civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us\n\
the Collinses were well. She is on her road somewhere, I dare\n\
say, and so, passing through Meryton, thought she might as well\n\
call on you. I suppose she had nothing particular to say to\n\
you, Lizzy?\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood here;\n\
for to acknowledge the substance of their conversation was\n\
impossible.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 57\n\
\n\
\n\
The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit\n\
threw Elizabeth into, could not be easily overcome; nor\n\
could she, for many hours, learn to think of it less than\n\
incessantly. <NAME>, it appeared, had actually taken\n\
the trouble of this journey from Rosings, for the sole purpose\n\
of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was\n\
a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of\n\
their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to\n\
imagine; till she recollected that _his_ being the intimate\n\
friend of Bingley, and _her_ being the sister of Jane, was\n\
enough, at a time when the expectation of one wedding made\n\
everybody eager for another, to supply the idea. She had not\n\
herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her sister must\n\
bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at\n\
Lucas Lodge, therefore (for through their communication with\n\
the Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached lady\n\
Catherine), had only set that down as almost certain and\n\
immediate, which she had looked forward to as possible at\n\
some future time.\n\
\n\
In revolving <NAME>\'s expressions, however, she could\n\
not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence\n\
of her persisting in this interference. From what she had said\n\
of her resolution to prevent their marriage, it occurred to\n\
Elizabeth that she must meditate an application to her nephew;\n\
and how _he_ might take a similar representation of the evils\n\
attached to a connection with her, she dared not pronounce.\n\
She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his aunt, or\n\
his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose\n\
that he thought much higher of her ladyship than _she_ could\n\
do; and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a\n\
marriage with _one_, whose immediate connections were so unequal\n\
to his own, his aunt would address him on his weakest side.\n\
With his notions of dignity, he would probably feel that the\n\
arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous,\n\
contained much good sense and solid reasoning.\n\
\n\
If he had been wavering before as to what he should do, which\n\
had often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a\n\
relation might settle every doubt, and determine him at once to\n\
be as happy as dignity unblemished could make him. In that\n\
case he would return no more. <NAME> might see him in\n\
her way through town; and his engagement to Bingley of coming\n\
again to Netherfield must give way.\n\
\n\
\"If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should\n\
come to his friend within a few days,\" she added, \"I shall\n\
know how to understand it. I shall then give over every\n\
expectation, every wish of his constancy. If he is satisfied\n\
with only regretting me, when he might have obtained my\n\
affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him at all.\"\n\
\n\
* * * * *\n\
\n\
The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their\n\
visitor had been, was very great; but they obligingly satisfied\n\
it, with the same kind of supposition which had appeased\n\
Mrs. Bennet\'s curiosity; and Elizabeth was spared from much\n\
teasing on the subject.\n\
\n\
The next morning, as she was going downstairs, she was met by\n\
her father, who came out of his library with a letter in his\n\
hand.\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy,\" said he, \"I was going to look for you; come into my\n\
room.\"\n\
\n\
She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he\n\
had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being\n\
in some manner connected with the letter he held. It suddenly\n\
struck her that it might be from <NAME>; and she\n\
anticipated with dismay all the consequent explanations.\n\
\n\
She followed her father to the fire place, and they both sat\n\
down. He then said,\n\
\n\
\"I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me\n\
exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought\n\
to know its contents. I did not know before, that I had two\n\
daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate you\n\
on a very important conquest.\"\n\
\n\
The colour now rushed into Elizabeth\'s cheeks in the instantaneous\n\
conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the\n\
aunt; and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that\n\
he explained himself at all, or offended that his letter was not\n\
rather addressed to herself; when her father continued:\n\
\n\
\"You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in\n\
such matters as these; but I think I may defy even _your_\n\
sagacity, to discover the name of your admirer. This letter\n\
is from Mr. Collins.\"\n\
\n\
\"From Mr. Collins! and what can _he_ have to say?\"\n\
\n\
\"Something very much to the purpose of course. He begins with\n\
congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter,\n\
of which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured,\n\
gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience, by\n\
reading what he says on that point. What relates to yourself, is\n\
as follows: \'Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations\n\
of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now add\n\
a short hint on the subject of another; of which we have been\n\
advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it is\n\
presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder\n\
sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may be\n\
reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages\n\
in this land.\'\n\
\n\
\"Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?\" \'This\n\
young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with every thing\n\
the heart of mortal can most desire,--splendid property,\n\
noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all\n\
these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and\n\
yourself, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure\n\
with this gentleman\'s proposals, which, of course, you will be\n\
inclined to take immediate advantage of.\'\n\
\n\
\"Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it\n\
comes out:\n\
\n\
\"\'My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to\n\
imagine that his aunt, Lady <NAME>, does not look\n\
on the match with a friendly eye.\'\n\
\n\
\"_Mr. Darcy_, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I\n\
_have_ surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched\n\
on any man within the circle of our acquaintance, whose name\n\
would have given the lie more effectually to what they related?\n\
Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish,\n\
and who probably never looked at you in his life! It is\n\
admirable!\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth tried to join in her father\'s pleasantry, but could\n\
only force one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been\n\
directed in a manner so little agreeable to her.\n\
\n\
\"Are you not diverted?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! yes. Pray read on.\"\n\
\n\
\"\'After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship\n\
last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension,\n\
expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent,\n\
that on the score of some family objections on the part of my\n\
cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so\n\
disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest\n\
intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble\n\
admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run\n\
hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.\'\n\
Mr. Collins moreover adds, \'I am truly rejoiced that my cousin\n\
Lydia\'s sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only\n\
concerned that their living together before the marriage took\n\
place should be so generally known. I must not, however,\n\
neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my\n\
amazement at hearing that you received the young couple into\n\
your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement\n\
of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very\n\
strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them,\n\
as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow\n\
their names to be mentioned in your hearing.\' That is his notion\n\
of Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about\n\
his dear Charlotte\'s situation, and his expectation of a young\n\
olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it.\n\
You are not going to be _missish_, I hope, and pretend to be\n\
affronted at an idle report. For what do we live, but to make\n\
sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh!\" cried Elizabeth, \"I am excessively diverted. But it is\n\
so strange!\"\n\
\n\
\"Yes--_that_ is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other\n\
man it would have been nothing; but _his_ perfect indifference,\n\
and _your_ pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd! Much\n\
as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins\'s\n\
correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter\n\
of his, I cannot help giving him the preference even over Wickham,\n\
much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law.\n\
And pray, Lizzy, what said <NAME> about this report?\n\
Did she call to refuse her consent?\"\n\
\n\
To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and\n\
as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she was not\n\
distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had never been\n\
more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not.\n\
It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried.\n\
Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by what he said of\n\
Mr. Darcy\'s indifference, and she could do nothing but wonder\n\
at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead\n\
of his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 58\n\
\n\
\n\
Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend,\n\
as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to\n\
bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed\n\
after Lady Catherine\'s visit. The gentlemen arrived early;\n\
and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having\n\
seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread,\n\
Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their\n\
all walking out. It was agreed to. <NAME> was not in\n\
the habit of walking; Mary could never spare time; but the\n\
remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however,\n\
soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind,\n\
while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other.\n\
Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of\n\
him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate\n\
resolution; and perhaps he might be doing the same.\n\
\n\
They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty wished to call\n\
upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a\n\
general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with\n\
him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be\n\
executed, and, while her courage was high, she immediately\n\
said:\n\
\n\
\"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of\n\
giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be\n\
wounding your\'s. I can no longer help thanking you for your\n\
unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have\n\
known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how\n\
gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family,\n\
I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,\" replied Darcy, in a tone of\n\
surprise and emotion, \"that you have ever been informed of what\n\
may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not\n\
think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.\"\n\
\n\
\"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia\'s thoughtlessness first\n\
betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and,\n\
of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let\n\
me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family,\n\
for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much\n\
trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of\n\
discovering them.\"\n\
\n\
\"If you _will_ thank me,\" he replied, \"let it be for yourself\n\
alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add\n\
force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not\n\
attempt to deny. But your _family_ owe me nothing. Much as\n\
I respect them, I believe I thought only of _you_.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a\n\
short pause, her companion added, \"You are too generous to\n\
trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were\n\
last April, tell me so at once. _My_ affections and wishes\n\
are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this\n\
subject for ever.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and\n\
anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and\n\
immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand\n\
that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since\n\
the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with\n\
gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness\n\
which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never\n\
felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as\n\
sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be\n\
supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his\n\
eye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt\n\
delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though she\n\
could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings,\n\
which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his\n\
affection every moment more valuable.\n\
\n\
They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was\n\
too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to\n\
any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted\n\
for their present good understanding to the efforts of his\n\
aunt, who did call on him in her return through London,\n\
and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and\n\
the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling\n\
emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in her\n\
ladyship\'s apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness\n\
and assurance; in the belief that such a relation must assist\n\
her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which\n\
she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her ladyship,\n\
its effect had been exactly contrariwise.\n\
\n\
\"It taught me to hope,\" said he, \"as I had scarcely ever allowed\n\
myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to\n\
be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided\n\
against me, you would have acknowledged it to <NAME>,\n\
frankly and openly.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, \"Yes, you know\n\
enough of my frankness to believe me capable of _that_.\n\
After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no\n\
scruple in abusing you to all your relations.\"\n\
\n\
\"What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though\n\
your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises,\n\
my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest\n\
reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without\n\
abhorrence.\"\n\
\n\
\"We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to\n\
that evening,\" said Elizabeth. \"The conduct of neither, if\n\
strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we\n\
have both, I hope, improved in civility.\"\n\
\n\
\"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection\n\
of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions\n\
during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months,\n\
inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I\n\
shall never forget: \'had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike\n\
manner.\' Those were your words. You know not, you can\n\
scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;--though it was\n\
some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow\n\
their justice.\"\n\
\n\
\"I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong\n\
an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever\n\
felt in such a way.\"\n\
\n\
\"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of\n\
every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your\n\
countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could\n\
not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce\n\
you to accept me.\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections\n\
will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most\n\
heartily ashamed of it.\"\n\
\n\
Darcy mentioned his letter. \"Did it,\" said he, \"did it soon\n\
make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any\n\
credit to its contents?\"\n\
\n\
She explained what its effect on her had been, and how gradually\n\
all her former prejudices had been removed.\n\
\n\
\"I knew,\" said he, \"that what I wrote must give you pain,\n\
but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter.\n\
There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I\n\
should dread your having the power of reading again. I can\n\
remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.\"\n\
\n\
\"The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it\n\
essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have\n\
both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they\n\
are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.\"\n\
\n\
\"When I wrote that letter,\" replied Darcy, \"I believed myself\n\
perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was\n\
written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.\"\n\
\n\
\"The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end\n\
so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the\n\
letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, and the person\n\
who received it, are now so widely different from what they\n\
were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it\n\
ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy.\n\
Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.\"\n\
\n\
\"I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind.\n\
Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that\n\
the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but,\n\
what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not\n\
so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which\n\
ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my\n\
life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was\n\
taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my\n\
temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them\n\
in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many\n\
years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though\n\
good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was\n\
benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me\n\
to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own\n\
family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world;\n\
to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth\n\
compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and\n\
twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest,\n\
loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a\n\
lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you,\n\
I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my\n\
reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my\n\
pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.\"\n\
\n\
\"Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?\"\n\
\n\
\"Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed\n\
you to be wishing, expecting my addresses.\"\n\
\n\
\"My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally,\n\
I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits\n\
might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after\n\
_that_ evening?\"\n\
\n\
\"Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon\n\
began to take a proper direction.\"\n\
\n\
\"I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we\n\
met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?\"\n\
\n\
\"No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise.\"\n\
\n\
\"Your surprise could not be greater than _mine_ in being\n\
noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no\n\
extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect\n\
to receive _more_ than my due.\"\n\
\n\
\"My object then,\" replied Darcy, \"was to show you, by every\n\
civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the\n\
past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your\n\
ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been\n\
attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves\n\
I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after\n\
I had seen you.\"\n\
\n\
He then told her of Georgiana\'s delight in her acquaintance,\n\
and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption; which\n\
naturally leading to the cause of that interruption, she soon\n\
learnt that his resolution of following her from Derbyshire in\n\
quest of her sister had been formed before he quitted the inn,\n\
and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there had arisen from\n\
no other struggles than what such a purpose must comprehend.\n\
\n\
She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a\n\
subject to each, to be dwelt on farther.\n\
\n\
After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy\n\
to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining\n\
their watches, that it was time to be at home.\n\
\n\
\"What could become of Mr. Bingley and Jane!\" was a wonder\n\
which introduced the discussion of their affairs. Darcy\n\
was delighted with their engagement; his friend had given\n\
him the earliest information of it.\n\
\n\
\"I must ask whether you were surprised?\" said Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
\"Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon\n\
happen.\"\n\
\n\
\"That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as\n\
much.\" And though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it\n\
had been pretty much the case.\n\
\n\
\"On the evening before my going to London,\" said he, \"I made a\n\
confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long\n\
ago. I told him of all that had occurred to make my former\n\
interference in his affairs absurd and impertinent. His\n\
surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion.\n\
I told him, moreover, that I believed myself mistaken in\n\
supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent to\n\
him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her\n\
was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of\n\
directing his friend.\n\
\n\
\"Did you speak from your own observation,\" said she, \"when\n\
you told him that my sister loved him, or merely from my\n\
information last spring?\"\n\
\n\
\"From the former. I had narrowly observed her during the two\n\
visits which I had lately made here; and I was convinced of her\n\
affection.\"\n\
\n\
\"And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate\n\
conviction to him.\"\n\
\n\
\"It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence\n\
had prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious\n\
a case, but his reliance on mine made every thing easy. I\n\
was obliged to confess one thing, which for a time, and not\n\
unjustly, offended him. I could not allow myself to conceal\n\
that your sister had been in town three months last winter,\n\
that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was\n\
angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than\n\
he remained in any doubt of your sister\'s sentiments. He has\n\
heartily forgiven me now.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most\n\
delightful friend; so easily guided that his worth was\n\
invaluable; but she checked herself. She remembered that he\n\
had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early\n\
to begin. In anticipating the happiness of Bingley, which of\n\
course was to be inferior only to his own, he continued the\n\
conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they\n\
parted.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 59\n\
\n\
\n\
\"My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?\" was a\n\
question which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she\n\
entered their room, and from all the others when they sat down\n\
to table. She had only to say in reply, that they had wandered\n\
about, till she was beyond her own knowledge. She coloured as\n\
she spoke; but neither that, nor anything else, awakened a\n\
suspicion of the truth.\n\
\n\
The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary.\n\
The acknowledged lovers talked and laughed, the unacknowledged\n\
were silent. Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness\n\
overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather\n\
_knew_ that she was happy than _felt_ herself to be so; for, besides\n\
the immediate embarrassment, there were other evils before her.\n\
She anticipated what would be felt in the family when her\n\
situation became known; she was aware that no one liked him but\n\
Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a dislike\n\
which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.\n\
\n\
At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was\n\
very far from <NAME>\'s general habits, she was absolutely\n\
incredulous here.\n\
\n\
\"You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be!--engaged to Mr. Darcy!\n\
No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible.\"\n\
\n\
\"This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence was\n\
on you; and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do\n\
not. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the\n\
truth. He still loves me, and we are engaged.\"\n\
\n\
Jane looked at her doubtingly. \"Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be.\n\
I know how much you dislike him.\"\n\
\n\
\"You know nothing of the matter. _That_ is all to be forgot.\n\
Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in\n\
such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is\n\
the last time I shall ever remember it myself.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME> still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and\n\
more seriously assured her of its truth.\n\
\n\
\"Good Heaven! can it be really so! Yet now I must believe\n\
you,\" cried Jane. \"My dear, dear Lizzy, I would--I do\n\
congratulate you--but are you certain? forgive the question\n\
--are you quite certain that you can be happy with him?\"\n\
\n\
\"There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us\n\
already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world.\n\
But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a\n\
brother?\"\n\
\n\
\"Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or\n\
myself more delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as\n\
impossible. And do you really love him quite well enough?\n\
Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than marry without affection.\n\
Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?\"\n\
\n\
\"Oh, yes! You will only think I feel _more_ than I ought to\n\
do, when I tell you all.\"\n\
\n\
\"What do you mean?\"\n\
\n\
\"Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley.\n\
I am afraid you will be angry.\"\n\
\n\
\"My dearest sister, now _be_ serious. I want to talk very\n\
seriously. Let me know every thing that I am to know, without\n\
delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him?\"\n\
\n\
\"It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it\n\
began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his\n\
beautiful grounds at Pemberley.\"\n\
\n\
Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced\n\
the desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn\n\
assurances of attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss\n\
Bennet had nothing further to wish.\n\
\n\
\"Now I am quite happy,\" said she, \"for you will be as happy as\n\
myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but\n\
his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as\n\
Bingley\'s friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley\n\
and yourself more dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very\n\
sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what\n\
passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know of it\n\
to another, not to you.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been\n\
unwilling to mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her\n\
own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of his friend.\n\
But now she would no longer conceal from her his share in\n\
Lydia\'s marriage. All was acknowledged, and half the night\n\
spent in conversation.\n\
\n\
* * * * *\n\
\n\
\"Good gracious!\" cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window\n\
the next morning, \"if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming\n\
here again with our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so\n\
tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he\n\
would go a-shooting, or something or other, and not disturb us\n\
with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must\n\
walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley\'s way.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a\n\
proposal; yet was really vexed that her mother should be\n\
always giving him such an epithet.\n\
\n\
As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively,\n\
and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good\n\
information; and he soon afterwards said aloud, \"Mrs. Bennet,\n\
have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her\n\
way again to-day?\"\n\
\n\
\"I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,\" said Mrs. Bennet,\n\
\"to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk,\n\
and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view.\"\n\
\n\
\"It may do very well for the others,\" replied Mr. Bingley; \"but\n\
I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won\'t it, Kitty?\"\n\
Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed\n\
a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth\n\
silently consented. As she went up stairs to get ready,\n\
Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying:\n\
\n\
\"I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have\n\
that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not\n\
mind it: it is all for Jane\'s sake, you know; and there is no\n\
occasion for talking to him, except just now and then. So, do\n\
not put yourself to inconvenience.\"\n\
\n\
During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet\'s consent\n\
should be asked in the course of the evening. Elizabeth\n\
reserved to herself the application for her mother\'s. She\n\
could not determine how her mother would take it; sometimes\n\
doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur would be enough\n\
to overcome her abhorrence of the man. But whether she were\n\
violently set against the match, or violently delighted with\n\
it, it was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted\n\
to do credit to her sense; and she could no more bear that\n\
<NAME> should hear the first raptures of her joy, than the\n\
first vehemence of her disapprobation.\n\
\n\
* * * * *\n\
\n\
In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library,\n\
she saw Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation\n\
on seeing it was extreme. She did not fear her father\'s\n\
opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy; and that it\n\
should be through her means--that _she_, his favourite child,\n\
should be distressing him by her choice, should be filling him\n\
with fears and regrets in disposing of her--was a wretched\n\
reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared\n\
again, when, looking at him, she was a little relieved by his\n\
smile. In a few minutes he approached the table where she was\n\
sitting with Kitty; and, while pretending to admire her work\n\
said in a whisper, \"Go to your father, he wants you in the\n\
library.\" She was gone directly.\n\
\n\
Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and\n\
anxious. \"Lizzy,\" said he, \"what are you doing? Are you out\n\
of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always\n\
hated him?\"\n\
\n\
How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had\n\
been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would\n\
have spared her from explanations and professions which it was\n\
exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and\n\
she assured him, with some confusion, of her attachment to\n\
Mr. Darcy.\n\
\n\
\"Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is\n\
rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine\n\
carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?\"\n\
\n\
\"Have you any other objection,\" said Elizabeth, \"than your\n\
belief of my indifference?\"\n\
\n\
\"None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort\n\
of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.\"\n\
\n\
\"I do, I do like him,\" she replied, with tears in her eyes,\n\
\"I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly\n\
amiable. You do not know what he really is; then pray do not\n\
pain me by speaking of him in such terms.\"\n\
\n\
\"Lizzy,\" said her father, \"I have given him my consent.\n\
He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare\n\
refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it\n\
to _you_, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise\n\
you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy.\n\
I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless\n\
you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him\n\
as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the\n\
greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely\n\
escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the\n\
grief of seeing _you_ unable to respect your partner in life.\n\
You know not what you are about.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her\n\
reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was\n\
really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual\n\
change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her\n\
absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a\n\
day, but had stood the test of many months\' suspense, and\n\
enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer\n\
her father\'s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.\n\
\n\
\"Well, my dear,\" said he, when she ceased speaking, \"I have no\n\
more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could\n\
not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.\"\n\
\n\
To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what\n\
Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with\n\
astonishment.\n\
\n\
\"This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did\n\
every thing; made up the match, gave the money, paid the\n\
fellow\'s debts, and got him his commission! So much the\n\
better. It will save me a world of trouble and economy.\n\
Had it been your uncle\'s doing, I must and _would_ have paid\n\
him; but these violent young lovers carry every thing their\n\
own way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow; he will rant\n\
and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end\n\
of the matter.\"\n\
\n\
He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before, on his\n\
reading Mr. Collins\'s letter; and after laughing at her some\n\
time, allowed her at last to go--saying, as she quitted the\n\
room, \"If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in,\n\
for I am quite at leisure.\"\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight;\n\
and, after half an hour\'s quiet reflection in her own room,\n\
she was able to join the others with tolerable composure.\n\
Every thing was too recent for gaiety, but the evening passed\n\
tranquilly away; there was no longer anything material to\n\
be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would\n\
come in time.\n\
\n\
When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she\n\
followed her, and made the important communication. Its effect\n\
was most extraordinary; for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet\n\
sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it\n\
under many, many minutes that she could comprehend what she\n\
heard; though not in general backward to credit what was for\n\
the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a\n\
lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to\n\
fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder,\n\
and bless herself.\n\
\n\
\"Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me!\n\
Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true?\n\
Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be!\n\
What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have!\n\
Jane\'s is nothing to it--nothing at all. I am so pleased--so\n\
happy. Such a charming man!--so handsome! so tall!--Oh, my\n\
dear Lizzy! pray apologise for my having disliked him so much\n\
before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house\n\
in town! Every thing that is charming! Three daughters\n\
married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of\n\
me. I shall go distracted.\"\n\
\n\
This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be\n\
doubted: and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was\n\
heard only by herself, soon went away. But before she had\n\
been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her.\n\
\n\
\"My dearest child,\" she cried, \"I can think of nothing else!\n\
Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! \'Tis as good as a\n\
Lord! And a special licence. You must and shall be married\n\
by a special licence. But my dearest love, tell me what dish\n\
Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it to-morrow.\"\n\
\n\
This was a sad omen of what her mother\'s behaviour to the\n\
gentleman himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in\n\
the certain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of\n\
her relations\' consent, there was still something to be wished\n\
for. But the morrow passed off much better than she expected;\n\
for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood in such awe of her intended\n\
son-in-law that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was\n\
in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference\n\
for his opinion.\n\
\n\
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking\n\
pains to get acquainted with him; and <NAME> soon assured\n\
her that he was rising every hour in his esteem.\n\
\n\
\"I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,\" said he. \"Wickham,\n\
perhaps, is my favourite; but I think I shall like _your_ husband\n\
quite as well as Jane\'s.\"\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 60\n\
\n\
\n\
Elizabeth\'s spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she\n\
wanted <NAME> to account for his having ever fallen in love\n\
with her. \"How could you begin?\" said she. \"I can comprehend\n\
your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning;\n\
but what could set you off in the first place?\"\n\
\n\
\"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the\n\
words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was\n\
in the middle before I knew that I _had_ begun.\"\n\
\n\
\"My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my\n\
behaviour to _you_ was at least always bordering on the uncivil,\n\
and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain\n\
than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?\"\n\
\n\
\"For the liveliness of your mind, I did.\"\n\
\n\
\"You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very\n\
little less. The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of\n\
deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with\n\
the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking\n\
for _your_ approbation alone. I roused, and interested you,\n\
because I was so unlike _them_. Had you not been really\n\
amiable, you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the\n\
pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always\n\
noble and just; and in your heart, you thoroughly despised the\n\
persons who so assiduously courted you. There--I have saved\n\
you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things\n\
considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be\n\
sure, you knew no actual good of me--but nobody thinks of\n\
_that_ when they fall in love.\"\n\
\n\
\"Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane while\n\
she was ill at Netherfield?\"\n\
\n\
\"Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a\n\
virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your\n\
protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible;\n\
and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing\n\
and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin\n\
directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to\n\
the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first\n\
called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you\n\
called, did you look as if you did not care about me?\"\n\
\n\
\"Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.\"\n\
\n\
\"But I was embarrassed.\"\n\
\n\
\"And so was I.\"\n\
\n\
\"You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.\"\n\
\n\
\"A man who had felt less, might.\"\n\
\n\
\"How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give,\n\
and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I\n\
wonder how long you _would_ have gone on, if you had been left\n\
to yourself. I wonder when you _would_ have spoken, if I\n\
had not asked you! My resolution of thanking you for your\n\
kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. _Too much_, I am\n\
afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort springs\n\
from a breach of promise? for I ought not to have mentioned\n\
the subject. This will never do.\"\n\
\n\
\"You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly\n\
fair. <NAME>\'s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us\n\
were the means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted\n\
for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing\n\
your gratitude. I was not in a humour to wait for any opening\n\
of your\'s. My aunt\'s intelligence had given me hope, and I was\n\
determined at once to know every thing.\"\n\
\n\
\"<NAME> has been of infinite use, which ought to make\n\
her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did\n\
you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to\n\
Longbourn and be embarrassed? or had you intended any more\n\
serious consequence?\"\n\
\n\
\"My real purpose was to see _you_, and to judge, if I could,\n\
whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one,\n\
or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister were\n\
still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the\n\
confession to him which I have since made.\"\n\
\n\
\"Shall you ever have courage to announce to <NAME>\n\
what is to befall her?\"\n\
\n\
\"I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth.\n\
But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper,\n\
it shall be done directly.\"\n\
\n\
\"And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you\n\
and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady\n\
once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer\n\
neglected.\"\n\
\n\
From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with\n\
Mr. Darcy had been over-rated, Elizabeth had never yet\n\
answered Mrs. Gardiner\'s long letter; but now, having _that_\n\
to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was\n\
almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost\n\
three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as follows:\n\
\n\
\"I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought\n\
to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail of\n\
particulars; but to say the truth, I was too cross to write.\n\
You supposed more than really existed. But _now_ suppose as\n\
much as you choose; give a loose rein to your fancy, indulge your\n\
imagination in every possible flight which the subject will\n\
afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot\n\
greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a\n\
great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again\n\
and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly\n\
as to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will\n\
go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the\n\
world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one\n\
with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only\n\
smiles, I laugh. <NAME> sends you all the love in the world\n\
that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at\n\
Christmas. Yours, etc.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s letter to <NAME> was in a different style;\n\
and still different from either was what <NAME> sent to\n\
Mr. Collins, in reply to his last.\n\
\n\
\"DEAR SIR,\n\
\n\
\"I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth\n\
will soon be the wife of <NAME>. Console Lady Catherine\n\
as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the\n\
nephew. He has more to give.\n\
\n\
\"Yours sincerely, etc.\"\n\
\n\
<NAME>\'s congratulations to her brother, on his approaching\n\
marriage, were all that was affectionate and insincere. She\n\
wrote even to Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and\n\
repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane was not\n\
deceived, but she was affected; and though feeling no reliance\n\
on her, could not help writing her a much kinder answer than\n\
she knew was deserved.\n\
\n\
The joy which <NAME> expressed on receiving similar\n\
information, was as sincere as her brother\'s in sending it.\n\
Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her\n\
delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her\n\
sister.\n\
\n\
Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any\n\
congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn\n\
family heard that the Collinses were come themselves to Lucas\n\
Lodge. The reason of this sudden removal was soon evident.\n\
Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly angry by\n\
the contents of her nephew\'s letter, that Charlotte, really\n\
rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the\n\
storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of\n\
her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in\n\
the course of their meetings she must sometimes think the\n\
pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all\n\
the parading and obsequious civility of her husband. He bore\n\
it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even listen to\n\
Sir <NAME>, when he complimented him on carrying away\n\
the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of\n\
their all meeting frequently at St. James\'s, with very decent\n\
composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir\n\
William was out of sight.\n\
\n\
Mrs. Phillips\'s vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater,\n\
tax on his forbearance; and though Mrs. Phillips, as well as\n\
her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the\n\
familiarity which Bingley\'s good humour encouraged, yet,\n\
whenever she _did_ speak, she must be vulgar. Nor was her\n\
respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all likely\n\
to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to\n\
shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever\n\
anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with\n\
whom he might converse without mortification; and though the\n\
uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the\n\
season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope\n\
of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time\n\
when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to\n\
either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party\n\
at Pemberley.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
Chapter 61\n\
\n\
\n\
Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which\n\
Mrs. Bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters.\n\
With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley,\n\
and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be guessed. I wish I could say,\n\
for the sake of her family, that the accomplishment of her\n\
earnest desire in the establishment of so many of her children\n\
produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, amiable,\n\
well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though perhaps it\n\
was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic\n\
felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally\n\
nervous and invariably silly.\n\
\n\
Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his\n\
affection for her drew him oftener from home than anything\n\
else could do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, especially\n\
when he was least expected.\n\
\n\
Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth.\n\
So near a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not\n\
desirable even to _his_ easy temper, or _her_ affectionate heart.\n\
The darling wish of his sisters was then gratified; he bought\n\
an estate in a neighbouring county to Derbyshire, and Jane and\n\
Elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were\n\
within thirty miles of each other.\n\
\n\
Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her\n\
time with her two elder sisters. In society so superior to\n\
what she had generally known, her improvement was great. She\n\
was not of so ungovernable a temper as Lydia; and, removed from\n\
the influence of Lydia\'s example, she became, by proper\n\
attention and management, less irritable, less ignorant, and\n\
less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia\'s society\n\
she was of course carefully kept, and though Mrs. Wickham\n\
frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the\n\
promise of balls and young men, her father would never consent\n\
to her going.\n\
\n\
Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was\n\
necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by\n\
Mrs. Bennet\'s being quite unable to sit alone. Mary was\n\
obliged to mix more with the world, but she could still\n\
moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no longer\n\
mortified by comparisons between her sisters\' beauty and her\n\
own, it was suspected by her father that she submitted to\n\
the change without much reluctance.\n\
\n\
As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no\n\
revolution from the marriage of her sisters. He bore with\n\
philosophy the conviction that Elizabeth must now become\n\
acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude and falsehood\n\
had before been unknown to her; and in spite of every thing,\n\
was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be prevailed\n\
on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which\n\
Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage, explained to\n\
her that, by his wife at least, if not by himself, such a\n\
hope was cherished. The letter was to this effect:\n\
\n\
\"MY DEAR LIZZY,\n\
\n\
\"I wish you joy. If you love <NAME> half as well as I do my\n\
dear Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to\n\
have you so rich, and when you have nothing else to do, I hope\n\
you will think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place at\n\
court very much, and I do not think we shall have quite money\n\
enough to live upon without some help. Any place would do, of\n\
about three or four hundred a year; but however, do not speak\n\
to Mr. Darcy about it, if you had rather not.\n\
\n\
\"Yours, etc.\"\n\
\n\
As it happened that Elizabeth had _much_ rather not, she\n\
endeavoured in her answer to put an end to every entreaty\n\
and expectation of the kind. Such relief, however, as it\n\
was in her power to afford, by the practice of what might be\n\
called economy in her own private expences, she frequently\n\
sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an\n\
income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so\n\
extravagant in their wants, and heedless of the future, must\n\
be very insufficient to their support; and whenever they\n\
changed their quarters, either Jane or herself were sure of\n\
being applied to for some little assistance towards discharging\n\
their bills. Their manner of living, even when the restoration\n\
of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the\n\
extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest\n\
of a cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought.\n\
His affection for her soon sunk into indifference; her\'s lasted\n\
a little longer; and in spite of her youth and her manners, she\n\
retained all the claims to reputation which her marriage had\n\
given her.\n\
\n\
Though Darcy could never receive _him_ at Pemberley, yet, for\n\
Elizabeth\'s sake, he assisted him further in his profession.\n\
Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when her husband was\n\
gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the Bingleys\n\
they both of them frequently staid so long, that even Bingley\'s\n\
good humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to talk\n\
of giving them a hint to be gone.\n\
\n\
<NAME> was very deeply mortified by Darcy\'s marriage; but\n\
as she thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at\n\
Pemberley, she dropt all her resentment; was fonder than ever\n\
of Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and\n\
paid off every arrear of civility to Elizabeth.\n\
\n\
Pemberley was now Georgiana\'s home; and the attachment of the\n\
sisters was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able\n\
to love each other even as well as they intended. Georgiana had\n\
the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth; though at first\n\
she often listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at\n\
her lively, sportive, manner of talking to her brother. He, who\n\
had always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame\n\
her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. Her\n\
mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in her way.\n\
By Elizabeth\'s instructions, she began to comprehend that a woman\n\
may take liberties with her husband which a brother will not\n\
always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.\n\
\n\
<NAME> was extremely indignant on the marriage of her\n\
nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her\n\
character in her reply to the letter which announced its\n\
arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially\n\
of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end.\n\
But at length, by Elizabeth\'s persuasion, he was prevailed on\n\
to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation; and, after\n\
a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her\n\
resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her\n\
curiosity to see how his wife conducted herself; and she\n\
condescended to wait on them at Pemberley, in spite of that\n\
pollution which its woods had received, not merely from the\n\
presence of such a mistress, but the visits of her uncle and\n\
aunt from the city.\n\
\n\
With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate\n\
terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and\n\
they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards\n\
the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the\n\
means of uniting them.\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
\n\
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|
This product features a beautiful walnut bentwood frame with glossy black leather upholstery. This chair is sure to make an impression and become the focal point in your office or home office. Having the support of an ergonomic office chair may help promote good posture and reduce future back problems or pain. High back office chairs have backs extending to the upper back for greater support. The high back design relieves tension in the lower back, preventing long-term strain. The included headrest will take the pressure off of your neck while leaning back. The waterfall front seat edge removes pressure from the lower legs and improves circulation. Chair easily swivels 360 degrees to get the maximum use of your workspace without strain. The pneumatic adjustment lever will allow you to easily adjust the seat to your desired height. |
// Copyright 2014 Wandoujia Inc. All Rights Reserved.
// Licensed under the MIT (MIT-LICENSE.txt) license.
package binlog
import (
"bufio"
"bytes"
"fmt"
"math"
"math/rand"
"net"
"strconv"
"testing"
"time"
"github.com/wandoulabs/codis/extern/redis-port/pkg/libs/errors"
"github.com/wandoulabs/codis/extern/redis-port/pkg/rdb"
"github.com/wandoulabs/codis/extern/redis-port/pkg/redis"
)
func TestSlotNum(t *testing.T) {
tests := [][]string{
[]string{"", ""},
[]string{"{", "{"},
[]string{"{test", "{test"},
[]string{"{test{0}", "test{0"},
[]string{"test{a}", "a"},
[]string{"{b}test", "b"},
[]string{"}test{c}", "c"},
[]string{"}test", "}test"},
[]string{"}test1{test2{d}}{e}", "test2{d"},
}
for _, p := range tests {
key, tag := []byte(p[0]), []byte(p[1])
checkerror(t, nil, bytes.Equal(HashTag(key), tag))
}
const n = MaxSlotNum * 32
for i := 0; i < n; i++ {
key := []byte(fmt.Sprintf("key_%d_%d", rand.Int(), rand.Int()))
checkerror(t, nil, bytes.Equal(HashTag(key), key))
}
for i := 0; i < n; i++ {
v := rand.Int()
tag := []byte(fmt.Sprintf("%d", v))
key := []byte(fmt.Sprintf("key_{%d}_%d", v, rand.Int()))
checkerror(t, nil, bytes.Equal(HashTag(key), tag))
}
}
func xslotsrestore(t *testing.T, db uint32, args ...interface{}) {
x := []interface{}{}
for i, a := range args {
switch i % 3 {
case 0, 1:
x = append(x, a)
case 2:
dump, err := rdb.EncodeDump(rdb.String([]byte(a.(string))))
checkerror(t, err, true)
x = append(x, dump)
}
}
err := testbl.SlotsRestore(db, x...)
checkerror(t, err, true)
}
func slotsinfo(t *testing.T, db uint32, sum int64) {
m, err := testbl.SlotsInfo(db)
checkerror(t, err, m != nil)
a := int64(0)
for _, v := range m {
a += v
}
checkerror(t, nil, a == sum)
}
func TestSlotsRestore(t *testing.T) {
xslotsrestore(t, 0, "key", 1000, "hello")
xget(t, 0, "key", "hello")
kpttl(t, 0, "key", 1000)
xslotsrestore(t, 0, "key", 8000, "world")
xget(t, 0, "key", "world")
kpttl(t, 0, "key", 8000)
xslotsrestore(t, 0, "key", 2000, "abc0", "key", 6000, "abc2")
xget(t, 0, "key", "abc2")
kpttl(t, 0, "key", 6000)
xslotsrestore(t, 0, "key", 1000, "abc3", "key", 1000, "abc1")
xget(t, 0, "key", "abc1")
kpttl(t, 0, "key", 1000)
slotsinfo(t, 0, 1)
xdel(t, 0, "key", 1)
slotsinfo(t, 0, 0)
checkempty(t)
}
func checkconn(t *testing.T) (*net.TCPAddr, net.Conn) {
l, err := net.Listen("tcp4", ":0")
checkerror(t, err, true)
defer l.Close()
addr := l.Addr().(*net.TCPAddr)
x := make(chan interface{}, 1)
go func() {
c, err := l.Accept()
if err != nil {
x <- err
} else {
x <- c
}
}()
conn, err := getSockConn(addr.String(), time.Second)
checkerror(t, err, true)
putSockConn(addr.String(), conn)
o := <-x
if err, ok := o.(error); ok {
checkerror(t, err, false)
}
return addr, o.(net.Conn)
}
func checkslotsmgrt(t *testing.T, r *bufio.Reader, w *bufio.Writer, c chan error, expect ...interface{}) {
if len(expect) != 0 {
req1, err := redis.Decode(r)
checkerror(t, err, true)
cmd1, args1, err := redis.ParseArgs(req1)
checkerror(t, err, cmd1 == "select" && len(args1) == 1)
checkerror(t, redis.Encode(w, redis.NewString("OK")), true)
checkerror(t, w.Flush(), true)
req2, err := redis.Decode(r)
cmd2, args2, err := redis.ParseArgs(req2)
checkerror(t, err, cmd2 == "slotsrestore" && len(args2) == len(expect))
m := make(map[string]*struct {
key, value string
ttlms uint64
})
for i := 0; i < len(expect)/3; i++ {
v := &struct {
key, value string
ttlms uint64
}{key: expect[i*3].(string), value: expect[i*3+2].(string)}
v.ttlms, err = ParseUint(expect[i*3+1])
checkerror(t, err, true)
m[v.key] = v
}
for i := 0; i < len(expect)/3; i++ {
key := args2[i*3]
ttlms := args2[i*3+1]
value := args2[i*3+2]
v := m[string(key)]
checkerror(t, nil, v != nil)
checkerror(t, nil, string(key) == v.key)
b, err := rdb.DecodeDump(value)
checkerror(t, err, string(b.(rdb.String)) == v.value)
x, err := strconv.Atoi(string(ttlms))
checkerror(t, err, true)
if v.ttlms == 0 {
checkerror(t, nil, x == 0)
} else {
checkerror(t, nil, x != 0)
checkerror(t, nil, math.Abs(float64(x)-float64(v.ttlms)) < 500)
}
}
checkerror(t, redis.Encode(w, redis.NewString("OK")), true)
checkerror(t, w.Flush(), true)
}
select {
case err := <-c:
checkerror(t, err, true)
case <-time.After(time.Second):
checkerror(t, nil, false)
}
}
func slotsmgrtslot(addr *net.TCPAddr, db uint32, tag string, expect int64) chan error {
c := make(chan error, 1)
go func() {
host, port := addr.IP.String(), addr.Port
fmt.Println(host, port)
n, err := testbl.SlotsMgrtSlot(db, host, port, 1000, HashTagToSlot([]byte(tag)))
if err != nil {
c <- err
} else if n != expect {
c <- errors.Errorf("n = %d, expect = %d", n, expect)
} else {
c <- nil
}
}()
return c
}
func slotsmgrttagslot(addr *net.TCPAddr, db uint32, tag string, expect int64) chan error {
c := make(chan error, 1)
go func() {
host, port := addr.IP.String(), addr.Port
n, err := testbl.SlotsMgrtTagSlot(db, host, port, 1000, HashTagToSlot([]byte(tag)))
if err != nil {
c <- err
} else if n != expect {
c <- errors.Errorf("n = %d, expect = %d", n, expect)
} else {
c <- nil
}
}()
return c
}
func slotsmgrtone(addr *net.TCPAddr, db uint32, key string, expect int64) chan error {
c := make(chan error, 1)
go func() {
host, port := addr.IP.String(), addr.Port
n, err := testbl.SlotsMgrtOne(db, host, port, 1000, []byte(key))
if err != nil {
c <- err
} else if n != expect {
c <- errors.Errorf("n = %d, expect = %d", n, expect)
} else {
c <- nil
}
}()
return c
}
func slotsmgrttagone(addr *net.TCPAddr, db uint32, key string, expect int64) chan error {
c := make(chan error, 1)
go func() {
host, port := addr.IP.String(), addr.Port
n, err := testbl.SlotsMgrtTagOne(db, host, port, 1000, []byte(key))
if err != nil {
c <- err
} else if n != expect {
c <- errors.Errorf("n = %d, expect = %d", n, expect)
} else {
c <- nil
}
}()
return c
}
func TestSlotsMgrtSlot(t *testing.T) {
xslotsrestore(t, 0, "key", 1000, "hello", "key", 8000, "world")
addr, c := checkconn(t)
defer c.Close()
r, w := bufio.NewReader(c), bufio.NewWriter(c)
slotsinfo(t, 0, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtslot(addr, 0, "key", 1), "key", 8000, "world")
slotsinfo(t, 0, 0)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtslot(addr, 0, "key", 0))
slotsinfo(t, 0, 0)
slotsinfo(t, 1, 0)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtslot(addr, 1, "key", 0))
xslotsrestore(t, 1, "key", 0, "world2")
slotsinfo(t, 1, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtslot(addr, 1, "key", 1), "key", 0, "world2")
slotsinfo(t, 1, 0)
checkempty(t)
}
func TestSlotsMgrtTagSlot(t *testing.T) {
args := []interface{}{}
for i := 0; i < 32; i++ {
key := "{}_" + strconv.Itoa(i)
value := "test_" + strconv.Itoa(i)
xset(t, 0, key, value)
kpexpire(t, 0, key, 1000, 1)
args = append(args, key, 1000, value)
}
addr, c := checkconn(t)
defer c.Close()
r, w := bufio.NewReader(c), bufio.NewWriter(c)
slotsinfo(t, 0, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagslot(addr, 0, "tag", 0))
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagslot(addr, 0, "", 32), args...)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagslot(addr, 0, "", 0))
slotsinfo(t, 0, 0)
checkempty(t)
}
func TestSlotsMgrtOne(t *testing.T) {
xset(t, 0, "key{tag}", "hello")
xset(t, 1, "key{tag}1", "hello")
xset(t, 1, "key{tag}2", "world")
addr, c := checkconn(t)
defer c.Close()
r, w := bufio.NewReader(c), bufio.NewWriter(c)
slotsinfo(t, 0, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtone(addr, 0, "key{tag}", 1), "key{tag}", 0, "hello")
slotsinfo(t, 0, 0)
slotsinfo(t, 1, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtone(addr, 1, "key{tag}1", 1), "key{tag}1", 0, "hello")
slotsinfo(t, 1, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrtone(addr, 1, "key{tag}2", 1), "key{tag}2", 0, "world")
slotsinfo(t, 1, 0)
checkempty(t)
}
func TestSlotsMgrtTagOne(t *testing.T) {
xset(t, 0, "tag", "xxxx")
xset(t, 0, "key{tag}", "hello")
xset(t, 1, "key{tag}1", "hello")
xset(t, 1, "key{tag}2", "world")
addr, c := checkconn(t)
defer c.Close()
r, w := bufio.NewReader(c), bufio.NewWriter(c)
slotsinfo(t, 0, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagone(addr, 0, "tag", 1), "tag", 0, "xxxx")
slotsinfo(t, 0, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagone(addr, 0, "key{tag}", 1), "key{tag}", 0, "hello")
slotsinfo(t, 0, 0)
slotsinfo(t, 1, 1)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagone(addr, 1, "key{tag}1", 2), "key{tag}1", 0, "hello", "key{tag}2", 0, "world")
slotsinfo(t, 1, 0)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagone(addr, 1, "key{tag}2", 0))
xset(t, 2, "key{tag3}", "test")
kpexpire(t, 2, "key{tag3}", 10, 1)
sleepms(20)
checkslotsmgrt(t, r, w, slotsmgrttagone(addr, 2, "key{tag}3", 0))
xdel(t, 2, "key{tag3}", 0)
checkempty(t)
}
|
Hockey athletes may want to check their equipment before they go out onto the ice. A recall is out for Bauer Hockey gear, due to a laceration hazard.
The recall involves:
-Cages on the Concept C1 Goal Mask with Certified Titanium Oval Wire
-NME 10 Goal Mask with Certified Titanium Oval Wire
-RP NME Ti Titanium Replacement Cage.
The gear was sold nationwide, online and at sporting good stores from
April 2013 through February 2015. Masks with cages were sold for about $900. Replacement cages sold for about $90.
Consumers with the product should stop using it immediately and contact Bauer Hockey for a free replacement wire cage and throat protector.
Contact information is below:
Bauer Hockey: (844) 448-4246 or online at www.bauer.com and click on “Titanium Cage Recall” for more information. |
/// Get another mutable reference `NodeMut`, borrowing out the current one
pub fn as_mut<'b>(&'b mut self) -> ComponentRefMut<'b, B, C> {
ComponentRefMut {
n: self.n.as_mut(),
phantom_data: PhantomData,
}
} |
/**
* https://issues.apache.org/jira/browse/WICKET-3929
*
* @author Carl-Eric Menzel
*/
class PropertyModelWithListTest
{
/** */
static class BeansContainer
{
private List<Bean> beans = new ArrayList<Bean>();
/**
* @return the beans
*
*/
List<Bean> getBeans()
{
return beans;
}
/**
* @param beans
* the bean
*/
public void setBeans(List<Bean> beans)
{
this.beans = beans;
}
}
/** */
static class Bean
{
private String text;
/**
* @return the bean's text
*/
public String getText()
{
return text;
}
/**
* @param text
* the bean's text
*/
void setText(String text)
{
this.text = text;
}
}
/**
*
* @throws Exception
*/
@Test
void listPropertyModel() throws Exception
{
List<Bean> beans = new ArrayList<PropertyModelWithListTest.Bean>();
Bean bean = new Bean();
bean.setText("Wrinkly and green I am.");
beans.add(bean);
PropertyModel<String> model = new PropertyModel<String>(beans, "0.text");
assertEquals("Wrinkly and green I am.", model.getObject());
}
/**
* @throws Exception
*/
@Test
void containerPropertyModel() throws Exception
{
BeansContainer container = new BeansContainer();
Bean bean = new Bean();
bean.setText("Wrinkly and green I am.");
container.getBeans().add(bean);
PropertyModel<String> model = new PropertyModel<String>(container, "beans[0].text");
assertEquals("Wrinkly and green I am.", model.getObject());
}
/**
* @throws Exception
*/
@Test
void nestedListPropertyModel() throws Exception
{
List<List<Bean>> outer = new ArrayList<List<Bean>>();
List<Bean> inner = new ArrayList<Bean>();
outer.add(inner);
Bean bean = new Bean();
bean.setText("Wrinkly and green I am.");
inner.add(bean);
PropertyModel<String> model = new PropertyModel<String>(outer, "0[0].text");
assertEquals("Wrinkly and green I am.", model.getObject());
}
} |
One of the many benefits of the Web is the ability to create unique, personalized experiences for individual users. We believe that this personalization needs to be done with respect for the user – with transparency, choice and control. When the user is at the center of product experiences everyone benefits.
Over the past two years, we’ve ideated, built and scaled a content platform that respects users. We served tens of billions of pieces of content. We experimented with all content – including advertising. We proved that advertising can be done well while respecting users. We have learned a ton along the way.
Our learnings show that users want content that is relevant, exciting and engaging. We want to deliver that type of content experience to our users, and we know that it will take focus and effort to do that right.
We have therefore made the decision to stop advertising in Firefox through the Tiles experiment in order to focus on content discovery. We want to thank all the partners who have worked with us on Tiles. Naturally, we will fulfill our current commitments as we wind down this experiment over the next few months.
Advertising in Firefox could be a great business, but it isn’t the right business for us at this time because we want to focus on core experiences for our users. We want to reimagine content experiences and content discovery in our products. We will do this work as a fully integrated part of the Firefox team.
We believe that the advertising ecosystem needs to do better – we believe that our work in our advertising experiments has shown that it can be done better. Mozilla will continue to explore ways to bring a better balance to the advertising ecosystem for everyone’s benefit, and to build successful products that respect user privacy and deliver experiences based upon transparency, choice and control. |
//
// Generated by class-dump 3.5 (64 bit).
//
// class-dump is Copyright (C) 1997-1998, 2000-2001, 2004-2013 by <NAME>.
//
#import "NSObject.h"
#import "VCAudioIODelegate.h"
#import "VCAudioIOSink.h"
#import "VCAudioIOSource.h"
#import "VCMediaStreamProtocol.h"
#import "VCTextSender.h"
@class NSObject<OS_dispatch_queue>, NSObject<VCMediaStreamDelegate>, NSString, VCAudioIO, VCAudioPayload;
__attribute__((visibility("hidden")))
@interface VCVirtualTTYDevice : NSObject <VCMediaStreamProtocol, VCTextSender, VCAudioIOSink, VCAudioIOSource, VCAudioIODelegate>
{
int _clientPid;
struct AudioStreamBasicDescription vpioFormat;
unsigned int _vpioSamplesPerFrame;
int deviceRole;
BOOL isValid;
NSObject<VCMediaStreamDelegate> *delegate;
NSObject<OS_dispatch_queue> *delegateNotificationQueue;
struct _opaque_pthread_mutex_t sessionLock;
int _state;
VCAudioPayload *_currentAudioPayload;
VCAudioIO *_audioIO;
struct SoundDec_t *_decoder;
struct opaqueCMSimpleQueue *_charQueue;
struct tagVCMemoryPool *_characterPool;
id _textStream;
}
@property(nonatomic) NSObject<VCMediaStreamDelegate> *delegate; // @synthesize delegate;
@property int deviceRole; // @synthesize deviceRole;
@property BOOL isValid; // @synthesize isValid;
- (void)didUpdateBasebandCodec:(const struct _VCRemoteCodecInfo *)arg1;
- (void)didResumeAudioIO:(id)arg1;
- (void)didSuspendAudioIO:(id)arg1;
- (void)setCanProcessAudio:(BOOL)arg1;
- (BOOL)canProcessAudio;
- (void)pushAudioSamples:(struct opaqueVCAudioBufferList *)arg1;
- (void)pullAudioSamples:(struct opaqueVCAudioBufferList *)arg1;
- (void)unlock;
- (void)lock;
- (void)setPause:(BOOL)arg1;
- (void)stopAudioWithCompletionHandler:(CDUnknownBlockType)arg1;
- (void)stop;
- (void)sendText:(struct NSString *)arg1;
- (void)sendCharacter:(unsigned short)arg1;
- (void)startVirtualTTYWithCompletionHandler:(CDUnknownBlockType)arg1;
- (void)start;
- (void)dealloc;
- (id)initWithMode:(long long)arg1 clientPid:(int)arg2;
- (BOOL)setStreamConfig:(id)arg1 withError:(id *)arg2;
// Remaining properties
@property(readonly, copy) NSString *debugDescription;
@property(readonly, copy) NSString *description;
@property(readonly) unsigned long long hash;
@property(readonly) Class superclass;
@end
|
/**
* ggu class global comment. Detailled comment
*/
public class DbOperatorValues {
protected List<IDbOperator> operators = new ArrayList<IDbOperator>();
public DbOperatorValues() {
init1();
init2();
init3();
}
protected void init1() {
operators.add(getDefaultOperator());
//operators.add(new DbOperator("EQUAL", "=")); //$NON-NLS-1$
//
operators.add(new DbOperator("DIFFERENT", "<>")); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
operators.add(new DbOperator("STRICTLY_INFERIOR", "<")); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
operators.add(new DbOperator("INFERIOR_OR_EQUAL", "<=")); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
operators.add(new DbOperator("SUPERIOR", ">")); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
operators.add(new DbOperator("SUPERIOR_OR_EQUAL", ">=")); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
}
protected void init2() {
operators.add(new DbOperator("IS_NULL", "IS NULL", null, true)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
operators.add(new DbOperator("IS_NOT_NULL", "IS NOT NULL", null, true)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
operators.add(new DbOperator("BETWEEN", "BETWEEN", " AND ", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
operators.add(new DbOperator("NOT_BETWEEN", "NOT BETWEEN", " AND ", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
operators.add(new DbOperator("IN", "IN", "( , )", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
operators.add(new DbOperator(" NOT_IN", "NOT IN", "( , )", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
operators.add(new DbOperator("LIKE", "LIKE", "'%'", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
operators.add(new DbOperator("NOT_LIKE", "NOT LIKE", "'%'", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
operators.add(new DbOperator("EXISTS", "EXISTS", "(SELECT * FROM MyTable)", false)); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$ //$NON-NLS-3$
}
protected void init3() {
//
}
public IDbOperator[] getValues() {
return operators.toArray(new IDbOperator[0]);
}
public IDbOperator getDefaultOperator() {
return new DbOperator("EQUAL", "="); //$NON-NLS-1$ //$NON-NLS-2$
}
} |
<gh_stars>1000+
package com.zendesk.maxwell.schema.columndef;
import java.math.BigDecimal;
public class DecimalColumnDef extends ColumnDef {
private DecimalColumnDef(String name, String type, short pos) {
super(name, type, pos);
}
public static DecimalColumnDef create(String name, String type, short pos) {
DecimalColumnDef temp = new DecimalColumnDef(name, type, pos);
return (DecimalColumnDef) INTERNER.intern(temp);
}
@Override
public String toSQL(Object value) {
BigDecimal d = (BigDecimal) value;
return d.toEngineeringString();
}
}
|
Optics of sunlit water drops on leaves: conditions under which sunburn is possible.
*It is a widespread belief that plants must not be watered in the midday sunshine, because water drops adhering to leaves can cause leaf burn as a result of the intense focused sunlight. The problem of light focusing by water drops on plants has never been thoroughly investigated. *Here, we conducted both computational and experimental studies of this phyto-optical phenomenon in order to clarify the specific environmental conditions under which sunlit water drops can cause leaf burn. *We found that a spheroid drop at solar elevation angle theta approximately 23 degrees, corresponding to early morning or late afternoon, produces a maximum intensity of focused sunlight on the leaf outside the drop's imprint. Our experiments demonstrated that sunlit glass spheres placed on horizontal smooth Acer platanoides (maple) leaves can cause serious leaf burn on sunny summer days. *By contrast, sunlit water drops, ranging from spheroid to flat lens-shaped, on horizontal hairless leaves of Ginkgo biloba and Acer platanoides did not cause burn damage. However, we showed that highly refractive spheroid water drops held 'in focus' by hydrophobic wax hairs on leaves of Salvinia natans (floating fern) can indeed cause sunburn because of the extremely high light intensity in the focal regions, and the loss of water cooling as a result of the lack of intimate contact between drops and the leaf tissue. |
/* ============================================================================
* Project Name : ezbox Configuration Daemon
* Module Name : init.c
*
* Description : ezbox initramfs init program
*
* Copyright (C) 2008-2013 by ezbox-project
*
* History Rev Description
* 2011-10-29 0.1 Write it from scratch
* ============================================================================
*/
#include <stddef.h>
#include <stdbool.h>
#include <stdio.h>
#include <stdlib.h>
#include <unistd.h>
#include <signal.h>
#include <string.h>
#include <sys/wait.h>
#include <sys/socket.h>
#include <sys/select.h>
#include <sys/mman.h>
#include <sys/time.h>
#include <sys/stat.h>
#include <sys/types.h>
#include <sys/mount.h>
#include <sys/un.h>
#include <fcntl.h>
#include <netinet/in.h>
#include <arpa/inet.h>
#include <assert.h>
#include <pthread.h>
#include <errno.h>
#include <syslog.h>
#include <ctype.h>
#include <stdarg.h>
#include <dlfcn.h>
#include <termios.h>
#include <sys/ioctl.h>
#include <sys/reboot.h>
#include "ezcd.h"
#ifndef RB_HALT_SYSTEM
# define RB_HALT_SYSTEM 0xcdef0123
# define RB_POWER_OFF 0x4321fedc
# define RB_AUTOBOOT 0x01234567
#endif
#if 0
#define DBG(format, args...) do {\
FILE *dbg_fp = fopen("/dev/kmsg", "a"); \
if (dbg_fp) { \
fprintf(dbg_fp, format, ## args); \
fclose(dbg_fp); \
} \
} while(0)
#else
#define DBG(format, args...)
#endif
static void init_reap(int sig)
{
pid_t pid;
while ((pid = waitpid(-1, NULL, WNOHANG)) > 0) {
DBG("<6>init: reaped %d\n", pid);
}
}
static void init_halt_reboot_poweroff(int sig)
{
char *p;
void *handle;
union {
rc_function_t func;
void * obj;
} alias;
char *stop_argv[] = { "agent", "env", "stop", NULL };
sigset_t set;
pid_t pid;
unsigned rb;
/* reset signal handlers */
signal(SIGUSR1, SIG_DFL);
signal(SIGTERM, SIG_DFL);
signal(SIGUSR2, SIG_DFL);
sigfillset(&set);
sigprocmask(SIG_UNBLOCK, &set, NULL);
/* run agent environment stop processes */
handle = dlopen("/lib/rcso/rc_agent.so", RTLD_NOW);
if (handle == NULL) {
DBG("<6>init: dlopen(%s) error %s\n", "/lib/rcso/rc_agent.so", dlerror());
return;
}
/* clear any existing error */
dlerror();
alias.obj = dlsym(handle, "rc_agent");
if ((p = dlerror()) != NULL) {
DBG("<6>init: dlsym error %s\n", p);
dlclose(handle);
return;
}
alias.func(ARRAY_SIZE(stop_argv) - 1, stop_argv);
/* close loader handle */
dlclose(handle);
/* send signals to every process _except_ pid 1 */
kill(-1, SIGTERM);
sync();
sleep(1);
kill(-1, SIGKILL);
sync();
sleep(1);
p = "halt";
rb = RB_HALT_SYSTEM;
if (sig == SIGTERM) {
p = "reboot";
rb = RB_AUTOBOOT;
} else if (sig == SIGUSR2) {
p = "poweroff";
rb = RB_POWER_OFF;
}
DBG("<6> init: Requesting system %s", p);
pid = vfork();
if (pid == 0) { /* child */
reboot(rb);
_exit(EXIT_SUCCESS);
}
while (1)
sleep(1);
/* should never reach here */
}
int init_main(int argc, char **argv)
{
char *p;
void *handle;
union {
rc_function_t func;
void * obj;
} alias;
char *start_argv[] = { "agent", "env", "start", NULL };
sigset_t sigset;
/* unset umask */
umask(0);
/* make the command line just say "init" - thats all, nothing else */
strncpy(argv[0], "init", strlen(argv[0]));
/* wipe argv[1]-argv[N] so they don't clutter the ps listing */
while (*++argv)
memset(*argv, 0, strlen(*argv));
signal(SIGCHLD, init_reap);
signal(SIGUSR1, init_halt_reboot_poweroff);
signal(SIGTERM, init_halt_reboot_poweroff);
signal(SIGUSR2, init_halt_reboot_poweroff);
sigemptyset(&sigset);
if (utils_boot_partition_is_ready() == false) {
DBG("<6>init: utils_boot_partition_is_ready() == false!\n");
start_argv[2] = "bootstrap";
}
/* run agent environment start processes */
handle = dlopen("/lib/rcso/rc_agent.so", RTLD_NOW);
if (!handle) {
DBG("<6>init: dlopen(%s) error %s\n", "/lib/rcso/rc_agent.so", dlerror());
return (EXIT_FAILURE);
}
/* clear any existing error */
dlerror();
alias.obj = dlsym(handle, "rc_agent");
if ((p = dlerror()) != NULL) {
DBG("<6>init: dlsym error %s\n", p);
dlclose(handle);
return (EXIT_FAILURE);
}
alias.func(ARRAY_SIZE(start_argv) - 1, start_argv);
/* close loader handle */
dlclose(handle);
/* run main loop forever */
while (1) {
sigsuspend(&sigset);
}
/* should never run to this place!!! */
return (EXIT_FAILURE);
}
|
Last week I was flipping through a small notebook and found some notes for the idea of making a bacon straw. Finding ourselves with bacon in the house last weekend we decided to try it.
We cooked them on a cooling rack over a cookie sheet to allow the fat to drain. 325 for about 15 minutes.
The original idea was to make an accordianed tin foil tube to wrap the bacon around (think: fast food drinking straw wrapper). I made a few of these formed around the handle of a spoon. Unfortunately when pulled to release the diameter of the foil grew just enough to break the bacon.
Scott discovered the best way to remove the foil was to grasp both ends and twist, like you are wringing out a wet towel. The diameter of the foil got smaller and was easy to slip out of the bacon after that.
Unfortunately, the tubed bacon did not cook evenly, leaving the middle and underside chewy while the ends were crisp, we found the textures unappetizing (let along the appearance of a worm (thanks, Scott) to be kinda gross). The one bacon straw I made barely made it through foil removal, but was fun to eat. Scott looked at that one and declared it made him think of the book How To Eat Fried Worms, so I had it all to myself.
The bacon curls worked quite nicely though! They cooked pretty evenly and made the foil removal a bit easier. I made curls from both standard slices of bacon and one I had cut lengthwise to create very narrow bacon strips. They were fun to eat, and would look lovely next to some waffles.
Also see the bacon curl garnish at How Stuff Works. |
def close_later(handler):
if not isinstance(handler, logging.Handler):
raise TypeError("handler must be a logging.Handler instance")
no_delay = 0.0
return _FLUSH_THREAD.submit(handler.close, no_delay) |
/****************************************************************************
* <b>Title</b>: ISBNTest.java
* <b>Project</b>: SMT-Kata
* <b>Description: </b> test case for the kata ISBN class
* <b>Copyright:</b> Copyright (c) 2021
* <b>Company:</b> Silicon Mountain Technologies
*
* @author James Camire
* @version 3.0
* @since Feb 5, 2021
* @updates:
****************************************************************************/
class ISBNTest {
/**
* Test method for {@link com.smt.kata.code.ISBN#isISBN(java.lang.String)}.
*/
@Test
void testIsISBN() {
ISBN i = new ISBN();
assertEquals(true, i.isISBN("1-84356-028-3"));
assertEquals(true, i.isISBN("0-684-84328-5"));
assertEquals(true, i.isISBN("0-8044-2957-X"));
assertEquals(true, i.isISBN("0-85131-041-9"));
assertEquals(true, i.isISBN("93-86954-21-4"));
assertEquals(true, i.isISBN("0-943396-04-2"));
assertEquals(false, i.isISBN("0-9752398-0-X"));
assertEquals(false, i.isISBN("1-85121-041-9"));
}
} |
Destructive Knee Joint Infection Caused byPeptostreptococcus micros: Importance of Early Microbiological Diagnosis
ABSTRACT Peptostreptococcus micros is a commensal of the oral cavity and the genitourinary tract that rarely causes serious infections. A case of a destructive knee joint infection with rapid progress caused by P. micros is presented. The significance of the microbiological findings was initially not acknowledged, which contributed to a nonsuccessful clinical outcome. |
def repeats(database, semester):
data = database
data = data.reset_index(drop=True)
repeats = {}
bol = True
df = data[semester + '_STUDENT_ID']
toExport = pd.DataFrame(data)
toExport = toExport.iloc[0:0]
i = 0
while (i < len(df)):
if (i in df.index):
ID = df[i]
if(bol):
list = []
j = i + 1
list.append(i)
while (j < len(df)):
if(j in df.index):
if(df[j] == ID):
list.append(j)
j = j + 1
if(len(list)>1):
repeats.update({ID:(list)})
bol = True
i = i + 1
for x in repeats:
instances = repeats.get(x)
length = len(instances)
q = 1
for y in instances:
data.loc[y, semester+'_NUM_REPEATS'] = length
toExport = toExport.append(data.loc[y], ignore_index = True)
if(q > 1):
data = data.drop([y], axis = 0)
q = q+1
return data |
// Helper function to ensure that a dir name/path will be valid on the OS
String OS::get_safe_dir_name(const String &p_dir_name, bool p_allow_dir_separator) const {
Vector<String> invalid_chars = String(": * ? \" < > |").split(" ");
if (p_allow_dir_separator) {
invalid_chars.push_back("..");
} else {
invalid_chars.push_back("/");
}
String safe_dir_name = p_dir_name.replace("\\", "/").strip_edges();
for (int i = 0; i < invalid_chars.size(); i++) {
safe_dir_name = safe_dir_name.replace(invalid_chars[i], "-");
}
return safe_dir_name;
} |
// KVs returns a metadata map for structured logging
func (err *SupervisorStartError) KVs() map[string]interface{} {
acc := make(map[string]interface{})
acc["supervisor.name"] = err.supRuntimeName
if err.nodeErr != nil {
var subTreeError ErrKVs
if errors.As(err.nodeErr, &subTreeError) {
for k0, v := range subTreeError.KVs() {
k := strings.TrimPrefix(k0, "supervisor.")
acc[fmt.Sprintf("supervisor.subtree.%s", k)] = v
}
} else {
acc["supervisor.start.node.name"] = err.nodeName
acc["supervisor.start.node.error"] = err.nodeErr
}
}
if err.terminationErr != nil {
for k, v := range err.terminationErr.KVs() {
acc[k] = v
}
}
return acc
} |
/*
Let temporary file replace old file.
This assumes that the new file was created in the same
directory as given by realpath(filename).
This will ensure that any symlinks that are used will still work.
Copy stats from old file to new file, deletes orignal and
changes new file name to old file name
*/
int maria_change_to_newfile(const char * filename, const char * old_ext,
const char * new_ext, time_t backup_time,
myf MyFlags)
{
char old_filename[FN_REFLEN],new_filename[FN_REFLEN];
(void) fn_format(old_filename,filename,"",old_ext,2+4+32);
return my_redel(old_filename,
fn_format(new_filename,old_filename,"",new_ext,2+4),
backup_time,
MYF(MY_WME | MY_LINK_WARNING | MyFlags));
} |
/**
* An executor that is constructed with two output executors. All
* push/close calls called on this executor or reproduced on the
* two input executors.
*/
public final class Splitter implements Executor {
private final Executor out1;
private final Executor out2;
public Splitter(Executor out1, Executor out2) {
this.out1 = out1;
this.out2 = out2;
}
@Override
public void close() throws RPLException{
out1.close();
out2.close();
}
@Override
public void push(State s) throws RPLException{
out1.push(s);
out2.push(s);
}
} |
#/bin/python3
import numpy as np
from PIL import Image
def processbad(array):
#arr = np.zeros([array.size(),array[0].size(),array[0][0].size])
arr = np.zeros([int(np.size(array)/8),
int(np.size(array[0])/8),3],
dtype=np.byte)
# print (arr)
counter = 0
count = 0
for i in array:
for b in i:
array[counter][count][0] = b[0]
array[counter][count][1] = b[1]
array[counter][count][2] = b[2]
count +=1
counter +=1
image = Image.fromarray(arr)
return image
def process(img, red, green, blue):
array = np.array(img)# [widthxheightxpixels]
r = array[:,:,0]
g = array[:,:,1]
b = array[:,:,2]
return np.logical_and(np.logical_not(np.ma.masked_equal(r, red).mask), np.logical_and(np.logical_not(np.ma.masked_equal(b, blue).mask), (np.logical_not(np.ma.masked_equal(g, green).mask))))
#return np.ma.masked_equal(r,0)
counter = 0
count = 0
for i in array:
for b in i:
if(b[0] < 1 and b[1] < 1 and b[2] < 1):
array[counter][count] = [255,255,255,255]
#print(b)
else:
array[counter][count] = [0,0,0,255]
count +=1
counter +=1
count = 0
image = Image.fromarray(array)
return image
img = Image.open('checker.png')
#array = 255 - array
#invimg = Image.fromarray(array)
#invimg.save('testgrey-inverted.png')
img = Image.fromarray(process(img,0,0,0))
img.save("newchecker.png")
|
// NewPacProxyHTTPServerWithPath is a convenience function to create an instance of
// PacProxyHTTPServer with a local PAC file.
func NewPacProxyHTTPServerWithPath(path string) (*PacProxyHTTPServer, error) {
parser := new(gopac.Parser)
err := parser.Parse(path)
if err != nil {
return nil, err
}
return NewPacProxyHTTPServer(parser), nil
} |
Rajesh De, the NSA’s former top lawyer, recently announced that he would step down. (Courtesy of law firm Mayer Brown)
The top lawyer for the National Security Agency, Rajesh De, has stepped down from his post and will join the law firm Mayer Brown.
De’s last day was Friday, and he plans to start at Mayer Brown in June as head of the firm’s privacy and security practice in Washington. He had been NSA’s general counsel since April 2012 and oversaw the exposure of the government’s controversial surveillance program by former NSA contractor Edward Snowden.
“It’s a natural time to move on,” De said.
The NSA’s deputy general counsel Teisha Anthony will be the acting general counsel until a permanent replacement is named. De defended the NSA’s practices during his three-year tenure, arguing that the agency has acted within the legal and policy framework provided by the executive branch, Congress and the courts.
But he said that “reasonable people can have an intelligent and thoughtful discussion about what they want that framework to look like.” De said he hopes Congress, which has a June deadline to reauthorize Section 215 of the Patriot Act — the provision that grants the NSA legal authority to collect Americans’ phone records — will reach a resolution that allows the government to preserve the operational capabilities it needs to maintain national security, while also addressing the need to move the metadata out of the government’s hands.
De declined to comment specifically on Snowden, other than to say that he believes no one should consider themselves above the law. “No person, a king or an IT guy, should consider themselves above our democratic system,” De said. “There’s a legal process we all adhere to. None of us is above the system.”
In his new role, De — who was a partner in Mayer Brown’s litigation group before joining the government — will advise companies in the financial services, health-care, retail and manufacturing sectors on data privacy and cybersecurity issues. He said he has not decided whether he will register as a lobbyist.
De held a number of senior roles in the Obama administration over the past six years, including staff secretary and deputy assistant to the president, principal deputy assistant attorney in the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Policy, and counsel to the 9/11 Commission.
De is joining Mayer Brown at a time when law firms are clamoring to grow their data privacy and cybersecurity practices. A number of major firms, including DLA Piper and Pillsbury, have bulked up their cybersecurity capabilities in recent months.
“Privacy and cybersecurity is probably the number one issue clients have been asking us about over the last year,” Mayer Brown Chairman Paul Theiss said. “It’s certainly the fastest-growing.”
De said he is especially interested in working with Mayer Brown’s clients to prevent data breaches, and to advise them in the regulatory and litigation-related consequences that may follow if and when a breach occurs. “Between foreign adversaries, hackers, modern-day thieves...this is a real challenge not just for governments but the private sector as well,” he said. |
/* Construct and send a packet of data of type CMD and len
LEN_NOHEADER (not counting the header...). */
static void
hw_rv_send (struct hw *me,
unsigned int cmd,
void *msg,
unsigned int len_noheader)
{
hw_rv_device *rv = (hw_rv_device *) hw_data (me);
unsigned8 buf[32+3];
unsigned8 *bufp;
unsigned int len = len_noheader + 3;
int ret;
buf[0] = len & 255;
buf[1] = (len >> 8) & 255;
buf[2] = cmd;
if (len > sizeof (buf))
{
hw_rv_write (me, buf, 3);
len = len_noheader;
bufp = msg;
}
else
{
memcpy (buf + 3, msg, len_noheader);
bufp = buf;
}
hw_rv_write (me, bufp, len);
} |
import { Injectable } from 'angular2/core';
import { CARDS } from '../../mocks/cards/mock-cards';
@Injectable()
export class CardService {
getCards() {
return Promise.resolve(CARDS);
}
getCardsByClassName(name: string)
{
switch (name)
{
case 'Druid': return this.getCardsByClassId(1);
default: alert("Only druid is supported right now");
}
}
getCardsByClassId(classid: number)
{
return Promise.resolve(CARDS).then(
cards => cards.filter(cards => cards.classid == classid)
);
}
getCard(id: number){
return Promise.resolve(CARDS).then(
cards => cards.filter(card => card.id === id)[0]
);
}
getCardByName(name: string){
return Promise.resolve(CARDS).then(
cards => cards.filter(card => card.name === name)[0]
);
}
}
|
def alert_should_be_present(self, text=''):
alert_text = self.get_alert_message()
if text and alert_text != text:
raise AssertionError("Alert text should have been "
"'%s' but was '%s'"
% (text, alert_text)) |
<reponame>bencampion/regxmllib
/*
* Copyright (c) 2014, <NAME> (<EMAIL>)
* All rights reserved.
*
* Redistribution and use in source and binary forms, with or without
* modification, are permitted provided that the following conditions are met:
*
* * Redistributions of source code must retain the above copyright notice, this
* list of conditions and the following disclaimer.
* * Redistributions in binary form must reproduce the above copyright notice,
* this list of conditions and the following disclaimer in the documentation
* and/or other materials provided with the distribution.
*
* THIS SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED BY THE COPYRIGHT HOLDERS AND CONTRIBUTORS "AS IS"
* AND ANY EXPRESS OR IMPLIED WARRANTIES, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, THE
* IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE
* ARE DISCLAIMED. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER OR CONTRIBUTORS BE
* LIABLE FOR ANY DIRECT, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, SPECIAL, EXEMPLARY, OR
* CONSEQUENTIAL DAMAGES (INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, PROCUREMENT OF
* SUBSTITUTE GOODS OR SERVICES; LOSS OF USE, DATA, OR PROFITS; OR BUSINESS
* INTERRUPTION) HOWEVER CAUSED AND ON ANY THEORY OF LIABILITY, WHETHER IN
* CONTRACT, STRICT LIABILITY, OR TORT (INCLUDING NEGLIGENCE OR OTHERWISE)
* ARISING IN ANY WAY OUT OF THE USE OF THIS SOFTWARE, EVEN IF ADVISED OF THE
* POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
*/
package com.sandflow.smpte.util;
import java.util.Arrays;
import java.util.regex.Pattern;
/**
* Represent a SMPTE Universal Label (SMPTE ST 298)
*/
public class UL {
private final static Pattern URN_PATTERN = Pattern.compile("urn:smpte:ul:[a-fA-F0-9]{8}\\.[a-fA-F0-9]{8}\\.[a-fA-F0-9]{8}\\.[a-fA-F0-9]{8}");
private final static Pattern DOTVALUE_PATTERN = Pattern.compile("[a-fA-F0-9]{2}(\\.[a-fA-F0-9]{2}){15}");
private final static int CATEGORY_DESIGNATOR_BYTE = 4;
private final static int REGISTRY_DESIGNATOR_BYTE = 5;
/**
* Creates a UL from a URN
* (urn:smpte:ul:xxxxxxxx.xxxxxxxx.xxxxxxxx.xxxxxxxx)
*
* @param urn URN from which the UL will be created
* @return UL, or null if the URN is invalid
*/
public static UL fromURN(String urn) {
byte[] ul = new byte[16];
if (URN_PATTERN.matcher(urn).matches()) {
for (int i = 0; i < 4; i++) {
for (int j = 0; j < 4; j++) {
ul[4 * i + j] = (byte) Integer.parseInt(urn.substring(13 + i * 9 + 2 * j, 13 + i * 9 + 2 * j + 2), 16);
}
}
return new UL(ul);
} else {
return null;
}
}
/**
* Creates a UL from a dot-value representation
* (xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx.xx)
*
* @param val String from which the UL will be created
* @return UL UL, or null if the URN is invalid
*/
public static UL fromDotValue(String val) {
byte[] ul = new byte[16];
if (DOTVALUE_PATTERN.matcher(val).matches()) {
for (int i = 0; i < 16; i++) {
ul[i] = (byte) Integer.parseInt(val.substring(3 * i, 3 * i + 2), 16);
}
return new UL(ul);
} else {
return null;
}
}
private final byte[] value;
/**
* @return true if the UL is a Key for a KLV Group (see SMPTE ST 336)
*/
public boolean isGroup() {
return getValueOctet(CATEGORY_DESIGNATOR_BYTE) == 2;
}
/**
* @return true if the UL is a Key for a KLV Local Set (see SMPTE ST 336)
*/
public boolean isLocalSet() {
return isGroup() && (getRegistryDesignator() & 7) == 3;
}
/**
* @return The value of the Registry Designator byte of the UL
*/
public int getRegistryDesignator() {
return getValueOctet(REGISTRY_DESIGNATOR_BYTE);
}
private UL() {
this.value = new byte[16];
}
/**
* Instantiates a UL from a sequence of 16 bytes
*
* @param ul Sequence of 16 bytes
*/
public UL(byte[] ul) {
this.value = java.util.Arrays.copyOf(ul, 16);
}
/**
* Compares this UL to another UL, ignoring the version byte
*
* @param ul Other UL to compare
* @return true if the ULs are equal
*/
public boolean equalsIgnoreVersion(UL ul) {
for (int i = 0; i < 7; i++) {
if (this.value[i] != ul.value[i]) {
return false;
}
}
for (int i = 8; i < 16; i++) {
if (this.value[i] != ul.value[i]) {
return false;
}
}
return true;
}
/**
* Compares this UL to another AUID, ignoring the version byte
*
* @param auid Other AUID to compare
* @return true if the UL is equal to the AUID, ignoring the version byte
*/
public boolean equalsIgnoreVersion(AUID auid) {
return (auid.isUL() && this.equalsIgnoreVersion(auid.asUL()));
}
/**
* @return The value of the Version byte of the UL
*/
public byte getVersion() {
return getValueOctet(7);
}
/**
* Compares this UL to another UL, ignoring specific bytes based on a mask
*
* @param ul Other UL to compare
* @param bytemask 16-bit mask, where byte[n] is ignored if bit[n] is 0,
* with n = 0 is the LSB
* @return true if the ULs are equal
*/
public boolean equalsWithMask(UL ul, int bytemask) {
for (int i = 0; i < 15; i++) {
if ((bytemask & 0x8000) != 0 && this.value[i] != ul.value[i]) {
return false;
}
bytemask = bytemask << 1;
}
return true;
}
/**
* Compares this UL to another AUID, ignoring specific bytes based on a mask
*
* @param auid Other UL to compare
* @param bytemask 16-bit mask, where byte[n] is ignored if bit[n] is 0,
* with n = 0 is the LSB
* @return true if the UL and the AUID are equal, ignoring specific bytes based on bytemask
*/
public boolean equalsWithMask(AUID auid, int bytemask) {
return auid.isUL() && this.equalsWithMask(auid.asUL(), bytemask);
}
/**
* Compares this UL to another UL
*
* @param ul Other UL to compare
* @return true if the ULs are equal
*/
public boolean equals(UL ul) {
return Arrays.equals(ul.value, this.value);
}
/**
* Compares this UL to a AUID
*
* @param auid AUID to compare
* @return true if the UL and AUID are equal
*/
public boolean equals(AUID auid) {
return auid.equals(this);
}
/**
* Returns the sequence of bytes that make up the UL (in the order specified by ST 298 4122)
*
* @return Sequence of 16 bytes
*/
public byte[] getValue() {
return value;
}
/**
* Returns the nth octet of the UL, indexed at 0
*
* @param i Index of the octet, starting at 0 for the first byte
* @return Value of the byte
*/
public byte getValueOctet(int i) {
return value[i];
}
@Override
public int hashCode() {
return Arrays.hashCode(value);
}
@Override
public boolean equals(Object obj) {
if (obj == null) {
return false;
}
if (getClass() != obj.getClass()) {
return false;
}
final UL other = (UL) obj;
if (!Arrays.equals(this.value, other.value)) {
return false;
}
return true;
}
@Override
public String toString() {
return String.format("urn:smpte:ul:%02x%02x%02x%02x.%02x%02x%02x%02x.%02x%02x%02x%02x.%02x%02x%02x%02x",
value[0],
value[1],
value[2],
value[3],
value[4],
value[5],
value[6],
value[7],
value[8],
value[9],
value[10],
value[11],
value[12],
value[13],
value[14],
value[15]
);
}
/**
* @return true if the UL is a class 14 UL
*/
public boolean isClass14() {
return getValueOctet(8) == 14;
}
/**
* @return true if the UL is a class 15 UL
*/
public boolean isClass15() {
return getValueOctet(8) == 15;
}
/**
* @return true if the UL is a class 13 UL
*/
public boolean isClass13() {
return getValueOctet(8) == 13;
}
}
|
/*************************************************************************
* Copyright 2020 Gravwell, Inc. All rights reserved.
* Contact: <<EMAIL>>
*
* This software may be modified and distributed under the terms of the
* MIT license. See the LICENSE file for details.
**************************************************************************/
import { CreatablePlaybook, isPlaybook } from '../../models';
import { integrationTest } from '../../tests';
import { TEST_AUTH_TOKEN, TEST_HOST } from '../../tests/config';
import { UUID } from '../../value-objects';
import { makeCreateOnePlaybook } from './create-one-playbook';
import { makeDeleteOnePlaybook } from './delete-one-playbook';
import { makeGetAllPlaybooksRelatedToMe } from './get-all-playbooks-related-to-me';
describe('getAllPlaybooksRelatedToMe()', () => {
const getAllPlaybooksRelatedToMe = makeGetAllPlaybooksRelatedToMe({ host: TEST_HOST, useEncryption: false });
const createOnePlaybook = makeCreateOnePlaybook({ host: TEST_HOST, useEncryption: false });
const deleteOnePlaybook = makeDeleteOnePlaybook({ host: TEST_HOST, useEncryption: false });
let createdPlaybooksUUIDs: Array<UUID> = [];
beforeEach(async () => {
// Create two playbooks
const data: CreatablePlaybook = {
name: 'Playbook test',
body: 'This is my playbook',
};
const createdPlaybooksUUIDsPs = Array.from({ length: 2 }).map(() => createOnePlaybook(TEST_AUTH_TOKEN, data));
createdPlaybooksUUIDs = await Promise.all(createdPlaybooksUUIDsPs);
});
afterEach(async () => {
// Delete the created playbooks
const deletePs = createdPlaybooksUUIDs.map(playbookUUID => deleteOnePlaybook(TEST_AUTH_TOKEN, playbookUUID));
await Promise.all(deletePs);
});
it(
'Should return playbooks',
integrationTest(async () => {
const playbooks = await getAllPlaybooksRelatedToMe(TEST_AUTH_TOKEN);
const playbookUUIDs = playbooks.map(a => a.uuid);
expect(playbooks.map(p => ({ ...p, body: '' })).every(isPlaybook)).toBeTrue();
expect(playbooks.length).toBeGreaterThanOrEqual(createdPlaybooksUUIDs.length);
for (const playbookUUID of createdPlaybooksUUIDs) expect(playbookUUIDs).toContain(playbookUUID);
}),
);
});
|
/* Copyright (C) 2010-2019, The Regents of The University of Michigan.
All rights reserved.
This software was developed as part of the The Vulcan project in the Intelligent Robotics Lab
under the direction of <NAME>, <EMAIL>. Use of this code is governed by an
MIT-style License that can be found at "https://github.com/h2ssh/Vulcan".
*/
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
// C++ code generated with wxFormBuilder (version Dec 11 2014)
// http://www.wxformbuilder.org/
//
// PLEASE DO "NOT" EDIT THIS FILE!
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
#include "ui/navigation/navigation_interface_display.h"
#include "navigation_interface.h"
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
using namespace vulcan::ui;
NavigationInterface::NavigationInterface( wxWindow* parent, wxWindowID id, const wxString& title, const wxPoint& pos, const wxSize& size, long style ) : UIMainFrame( parent, id, title, pos, size, style )
{
this->SetSizeHints( wxDefaultSize, wxDefaultSize );
wxBoxSizer* navInterfaceSizer;
navInterfaceSizer = new wxBoxSizer( wxHORIZONTAL );
display = new NavigationInterfaceDisplay(this, ID_NAVIGATION_INTERFACE_DISPLAY, wxDefaultPosition,wxDefaultSize);
navInterfaceSizer->Add( display, 1, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
wxBoxSizer* goalControlSizer;
goalControlSizer = new wxBoxSizer( wxVERTICAL );
namedGoalsList = new wxListBox( this, ID_NAMED_GOALS_LIST, wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0, NULL, wxLB_SINGLE );
namedGoalsList->SetFont( wxFont( 14, 70, 90, 90, false, wxEmptyString ) );
namedGoalsList->SetToolTip( wxT("List of available goals for robot navigation") );
namedGoalsList->SetMinSize( wxSize( 250,-1 ) );
goalControlSizer->Add( namedGoalsList, 1, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
selectGoalButton = new wxToggleButton( this, ID_SELECT_GOAL_BUTTON, wxT("Select Goal in Map"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
selectGoalButton->SetFont( wxFont( 14, 70, 90, 90, false, wxEmptyString ) );
goalControlSizer->Add( selectGoalButton, 0, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
addSelectedButton = new wxButton( this, ID_ADD_SELECTED_BUTTON, wxT("Add Selected Goal"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
addSelectedButton->SetFont( wxFont( 14, 70, 90, 90, false, wxEmptyString ) );
goalControlSizer->Add( addSelectedButton, 0, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
addCurrentLocationButton = new wxButton( this, ID_ADD_CURRENT_LOCATION_BUTTON, wxT("Add Current Location"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
addCurrentLocationButton->SetFont( wxFont( 14, 70, 90, 90, false, wxEmptyString ) );
goalControlSizer->Add( addCurrentLocationButton, 0, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
previewRouteButton = new wxButton( this, ID_PREVIEW_ROUTE_BUTTON, wxT("Preview"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
previewRouteButton->SetFont( wxFont( 14, 70, 90, 90, false, wxEmptyString ) );
goalControlSizer->Add( previewRouteButton, 0, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
goButton = new wxButton( this, ID_GO_BUTTON, wxT("GO"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
goButton->SetFont( wxFont( 20, 70, 90, 92, false, wxEmptyString ) );
goalControlSizer->Add( goButton, 0, wxALL|wxEXPAND, 5 );
navInterfaceSizer->Add( goalControlSizer, 0, wxEXPAND, 5 );
this->SetSizer( navInterfaceSizer );
this->Layout();
this->Centre( wxBOTH );
}
NavigationInterface::~NavigationInterface()
{
}
GoalNameDialogBase::GoalNameDialogBase( wxWindow* parent, wxWindowID id, const wxString& title, const wxPoint& pos, const wxSize& size, long style ) : wxDialog( parent, id, title, pos, size, style )
{
this->SetSizeHints( wxDefaultSize, wxDefaultSize );
wxBoxSizer* goalNameSizer;
goalNameSizer = new wxBoxSizer( wxVERTICAL );
wxBoxSizer* nameTextSizer;
nameTextSizer = new wxBoxSizer( wxHORIZONTAL );
goalNameLabel = new wxStaticText( this, wxID_ANY, wxT("Goal Name:"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
goalNameLabel->Wrap( -1 );
nameTextSizer->Add( goalNameLabel, 0, wxALIGN_CENTER|wxALL, 5 );
goalNameText = new wxTextCtrl( this, wxID_ANY, wxEmptyString, wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, wxTE_PROCESS_ENTER );
nameTextSizer->Add( goalNameText, 1, wxALIGN_CENTER|wxALL, 5 );
goalNameSizer->Add( nameTextSizer, 1, wxEXPAND, 5 );
wxBoxSizer* okCancelSizer;
okCancelSizer = new wxBoxSizer( wxHORIZONTAL );
okCancelSizer->Add( 0, 0, 1, wxEXPAND, 5 );
nameOkButton = new wxButton( this, ID_NAME_OK_BUTTON, wxT("Okay"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
okCancelSizer->Add( nameOkButton, 0, wxALIGN_CENTER|wxALL, 5 );
nameCancelButton = new wxButton( this, ID_NAME_CANCEL_BUTTON, wxT("Cancel"), wxDefaultPosition, wxDefaultSize, 0 );
okCancelSizer->Add( nameCancelButton, 0, wxALIGN_CENTER|wxALL, 5 );
okCancelSizer->Add( 0, 0, 1, wxEXPAND, 5 );
goalNameSizer->Add( okCancelSizer, 1, wxEXPAND, 5 );
this->SetSizer( goalNameSizer );
this->Layout();
this->Centre( wxBOTH );
// Connect Events
goalNameText->Connect( wxEVT_COMMAND_TEXT_UPDATED, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::goalNameTextEntered ), NULL, this );
goalNameText->Connect( wxEVT_COMMAND_TEXT_ENTER, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::goalNameEnterPressed ), NULL, this );
nameOkButton->Connect( wxEVT_COMMAND_BUTTON_CLICKED, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::nameOkayPressed ), NULL, this );
nameCancelButton->Connect( wxEVT_COMMAND_BUTTON_CLICKED, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::nameCancelPressed ), NULL, this );
}
GoalNameDialogBase::~GoalNameDialogBase()
{
// Disconnect Events
goalNameText->Disconnect( wxEVT_COMMAND_TEXT_UPDATED, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::goalNameTextEntered ), NULL, this );
goalNameText->Disconnect( wxEVT_COMMAND_TEXT_ENTER, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::goalNameEnterPressed ), NULL, this );
nameOkButton->Disconnect( wxEVT_COMMAND_BUTTON_CLICKED, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::nameOkayPressed ), NULL, this );
nameCancelButton->Disconnect( wxEVT_COMMAND_BUTTON_CLICKED, wxCommandEventHandler( GoalNameDialogBase::nameCancelPressed ), NULL, this );
}
|
/**
* Created by boeselager on 11.01.17.
*/
public class ResourceHelpers {
public static List<Resource> unwrapRecords(List<Resource> aRecords) {
List<Resource> resources = new ArrayList<>();
for (Resource rec : aRecords) {
resources.add(unwrapRecord(rec));
}
return resources;
}
public static Resource unwrapRecord(Resource aRecord) {
return aRecord.getAsResource(Record.RESOURCE_KEY);
}
public static List<Resource> getResourcesWithoutIds(List<Resource> aResourceList) {
List<Resource> result = new ArrayList<>();
for (Resource resource : aResourceList) {
Resource newResource = (Resource) resource.clone();
newResource.remove(JsonLdConstants.ID);
result.add(newResource);
}
return result;
}
} |
/**
* touch command, set access/modify time or create new file
*
* @param cmdArray command line array
* @param root file system root node
*/
public static void touch(String[] cmdArray, HNode root) {
var cmdList = Arrays.asList(cmdArray);
if (cmdArray.length == 1 || cmdList.contains("--help")) {
showTouchHelp();
return;
}
HNode currNode;
if (cmdList.get(1).equals("-a") || cmdList.get(1).equals("-m")) {
long time;
try {
time = Integer.parseInt(cmdList.get(2));
} catch (NumberFormatException e) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] Invalid time: " + cmdList.get(2));
return;
}
String[] pathArray = cmdList.get(3).split("/");
pathArray = Arrays.copyOfRange(pathArray, 1, pathArray.length);
currNode = getNode(pathArray, root);
if (currNode == null) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] File not exist: " + cmdList.get(3));
return;
}
if (currNode.status == HStatus.RO) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] File is Read-Only");
return;
}
if (currNode instanceof HDirectory) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] Given path points to a dir");
}
if (cmdList.get(1).equals("-a")) {
currNode.accessedTime = time;
} else {
currNode.modifiedTime = time;
}
return;
}
String[] pathArray = cmdList.get(1).split("/");
pathArray = Arrays.copyOfRange(pathArray, 1, pathArray.length);
HNode fatherNode = getFatherNode(pathArray, root);
if (pathArray.length == 1) {
for (HNode curr : root.childNodeList) {
if (curr.name.equals(pathArray[0])) {
curr.modifiedTime = curr.accessedTime = System.currentTimeMillis() / 1000;
return;
}
}
root.childNodeList.add(new HFile(pathArray[0], 0));
return;
}
if (fatherNode == null) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] Given path not exist");
return;
}
if (fatherNode instanceof HFile) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] Father node of given path is a file");
return;
}
String fileName = pathArray[pathArray.length - 1];
for (HNode hNode : fatherNode.childNodeList) {
if (hNode.name.equals(fileName)) {
System.out.println("[ERROR] File with same name already exists");
return;
}
}
fatherNode.childNodeList.add(new HFile(fileName, 0));
} |
<reponame>randomicon00/rust<gh_stars>1000+
// run-rustfix
#![allow(unused)]
#![warn(clippy::derive_partial_eq_without_eq)]
// Don't warn on structs that aren't PartialEq
struct NotPartialEq {
foo: u32,
bar: String,
}
// Eq can be derived but is missing
#[derive(Debug, PartialEq)]
struct MissingEq {
foo: u32,
bar: String,
}
// Eq is derived
#[derive(PartialEq, Eq)]
struct NotMissingEq {
foo: u32,
bar: String,
}
// Eq is manually implemented
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct ManualEqImpl {
foo: u32,
bar: String,
}
impl Eq for ManualEqImpl {}
// Cannot be Eq because f32 isn't Eq
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct CannotBeEq {
foo: u32,
bar: f32,
}
// Don't warn if PartialEq is manually implemented
struct ManualPartialEqImpl {
foo: u32,
bar: String,
}
impl PartialEq for ManualPartialEqImpl {
fn eq(&self, other: &Self) -> bool {
self.foo == other.foo && self.bar == other.bar
}
}
// Generic fields should be properly checked for Eq-ness
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct GenericNotEq<T: Eq, U: PartialEq> {
foo: T,
bar: U,
}
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct GenericEq<T: Eq, U: Eq> {
foo: T,
bar: U,
}
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct TupleStruct(u32);
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct GenericTupleStruct<T: Eq>(T);
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct TupleStructNotEq(f32);
#[derive(PartialEq)]
enum Enum {
Foo(u32),
Bar { a: String, b: () },
}
#[derive(PartialEq)]
enum GenericEnum<T: Eq, U: Eq, V: Eq> {
Foo(T),
Bar { a: U, b: V },
}
#[derive(PartialEq)]
enum EnumNotEq {
Foo(u32),
Bar { a: String, b: f32 },
}
// Ensure that rustfix works properly when `PartialEq` has other derives on either side
#[derive(Debug, PartialEq, Clone)]
struct RustFixWithOtherDerives;
#[derive(PartialEq)]
struct Generic<T>(T);
#[derive(PartialEq, Eq)]
struct GenericPhantom<T>(core::marker::PhantomData<T>);
fn main() {}
|
x=input()
for i in range(0,x):
t=map(int,raw_input().split())
a=len(str(t[1]))
if t[1]==9*int(a*"1"):
print t[0]*a
else:
print t[0]*(a-1)
|
def lambda_handler(event, context):
arn = event["SecretId"]
token = event["ClientRequestToken"]
step = event["Step"]
os.environ["LD_LIBRARY_PATH"] = "./:$LD_LIBRARY_PATH"
secrets_manager_client = boto3.client(
"secretsmanager", endpoint_url=os.environ["SECRETS_MANAGER_ENDPOINT"]
)
directory_services_client = boto3.client("ds")
metadata = secrets_manager_client.describe_secret(SecretId=arn)
if "RotationEnabled" in metadata and not metadata["RotationEnabled"]:
logger.error("Secret %s is not enabled for rotation" % arn)
raise ValueError("Secret %s is not enabled for rotation" % arn)
current_dict = get_secret_dict(secrets_manager_client, arn, "AWSCURRENT")
directory_name_list = [current_dict[DICT_KEY_DIRECTORY]]
directory_info = directory_services_client.describe_directories(
DirectoryIds=directory_name_list, Limit=1
)
directory_description = directory_info["DirectoryDescriptions"][0]
directory_name = directory_description["Name"]
versions = metadata["VersionIdsToStages"]
if token not in versions:
logger.error(
"Secret version %s has no stage for rotation of secret %s." % (token, arn)
)
raise ValueError(
"Secret version %s has no stage for rotation of secret %s." % (token, arn)
)
if "AWSCURRENT" in versions[token]:
logger.info(
"Secret version %s already set as AWSCURRENT for secret %s." % (token, arn)
)
return
elif "AWSPENDING" not in versions[token]:
logger.error(
"Secret version %s not set as AWSPENDING for rotation of secret %s."
% (token, arn)
)
raise ValueError(
"Secret version %s not set as AWSPENDING for rotation of secret %s."
% (token, arn)
)
if step == "createSecret":
create_secret(secrets_manager_client, arn, token, directory_name, current_dict)
elif step == "setSecret":
pending_dict = get_secret_dict(secrets_manager_client, arn, "AWSPENDING", token)
if current_dict[DICT_KEY_USERNAME] != pending_dict[DICT_KEY_USERNAME]:
logger.error(
"Username %s in current dict does not match username %s in "
"pending dict"
% (current_dict[DICT_KEY_USERNAME], pending_dict[DICT_KEY_USERNAME])
)
raise ValueError(
"Username %s in current dict does not match username %s in "
"pending dict"
% (current_dict[DICT_KEY_USERNAME], pending_dict[DICT_KEY_USERNAME])
)
pending_directory_name_list = [pending_dict[DICT_KEY_DIRECTORY]]
if pending_directory_name_list != directory_name_list:
logger.error(
"Current directory name list %s does not match pending "
"directory name list %s"
% (directory_name_list, pending_directory_name_list)
)
raise ValueError(
"Current directory name list %s does not match pending "
"directory name list %s"
% (directory_name_list, pending_directory_name_list)
)
set_secret(
directory_services_client,
directory_name,
current_dict,
pending_dict,
)
elif step == "testSecret":
pending_dict = get_secret_dict(secrets_manager_client, arn, "AWSPENDING", token)
test_secret(directory_name, pending_dict)
elif step == "finishSecret":
finish_secret(secrets_manager_client, arn, token)
else:
logger.error(
"lambda_handler: Invalid step parameter %s for secret %s" % (step, arn)
)
raise ValueError("Invalid step parameter %s for secret %s" % (step, arn)) |
// Commit commits the transaction.
func (tx *Transaction) Commit() error {
if tx.ro {
tx.Rollback()
return ErrReadOnly
}
if err := tx.Tx.Commit(); err != nil {
tx.Rollback()
return errors.Wrap(err, "failed to rollback")
}
return tx.Rollback()
} |
# Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic
### Dowser 3
## Meghan Ciana Doidge
#### Old Man in the CrossWalk Productions
### Contents
Author's Note
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Oracle 1 Preview
Dowser Series Cookbook
The Adept Universe by MCD
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Meghan Ciana Doidge
Author's Note:
_Treasures , Demons, and Other Black Magic_ is the third book in the Dowser series, which is set in the same universe as the Oracle and Reconstructionist series.
While it is not necessary to read all three series, in order to avoid spoilers the ideal reading order is as follows:
* Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic (Dowser 1)
* Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic (Dowser 2)
* Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (Dowser 3)
* I See Me (Oracle 1)
* Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (Dowser 4)
* Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser 5)
* I See You (Oracle 2)
* Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic (Dowser 6)
* I See Us (Oracle 3)
* Catching Echoes (Reconstructionist 1)
* Tangled Echoes (Reconstructionist 2)
* Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3)
Other books in the Dowser series to follow.
More information can be found at www.madebymeghan.ca/novels
# Introduction
I hadn't set foot in the human world for more than a few hours in over three and a half months. Sure, I was stronger and faster than I'd ever been before, and I had a shiny new sword, but I was seriously chocolate deprived. I don't recommend quitting cold turkey. And the new sword was a problem — to my mind, anyway. It represented all the expectations of a powerful father and a new otherworldly life. A life that wasn't the one I'd worked so hard to build. It also represented the responsibility I had to bring my foster sister Sienna to... what? Justice? I didn't know if that was even possible. What I did know was that Sienna wouldn't stop, and that I couldn't just leave everything up to fate and destiny... or maybe I was. Maybe I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. If you believed in that sort of thing.
I just hoped that before the chaos and mayhem renewed, I'd manage to get my hands on some chocolate. It didn't even have to be single-origin Madagascar. I was utterly prepared to lower my standards.
# 1
With one hand on the invisible knife at my hip and one hand twined through the wedding ring charms on my necklace, I stepped out from the golden magic of the portal onto the shores of Loch More. Yeah, Loch More, as in Scotland.
The ground underneath my feet thrummed with wild magic and untapped power. Supposedly, all the grid points around the globe — where natural magic reigned — teemed this way. Too many thousands of years ago for me to comprehend, the guardian dragons set up a network of portals anchored at these points. I gathered the portals were rather helpful when it came to saving the world, which the guardians did constantly.
Thankfully such responsibility wasn't my duty. No, my focus was much more personal.
I drew a little more of the shielding magic from my necklace, and the hair on the back of my neck settled. I unclenched my teeth. The land around me glowed — I could see for miles in all directions — but not with any specific color of magic. Rather, all the natural hues of the earth were intensified. I could actually see magic in the air I breathed.
I'd expected snow, seeing as it was the first week of November, but there wasn't any. I wondered if that was like people who didn't know Vancouver expecting it to snow there all the time, which it hardly ever did. Unlike the rest of Canada.
The sun was low in the sky. I'd misjudged the time, which reminded me I also wasn't sure of the exact date, though I'd tried to keep a rough calendar based on my infrequent calls home. My sleep schedule was erratic, now dictated by exhaustion rather than the rotation of the earth.
Time moved oddly in the dragon nexus. At least three and a half months had passed while I'd trained, studied, and pretty much did anything to avoid the fate waiting for me in the Sea Lion Caves, but it felt like more and less all at the same time. I supposed that was what destiny felt like... or was that inevitability?
Memories of the terror my sister, Sienna, had created in the caves along the Oregon coast — which, ironically, were a tourist attraction for some people — had melded over the past months with the bloody vision that Chi Wen, the far seer, had shared with me. A vision that showed my loved ones slaughtered on an altar. A vision that had stopped me from following Desmond and Kett back through the portal and kept me training like a woman fueled by vengeance. A vision, mixed with a memory, that had me formulating a plan.
The portal snapped shut behind me, leaving me alone for the first time in a very long time. Maybe as alone as I'd ever been. That was an odd thought.
Anyway, to the point. The shores of Loch More looked like any other lake surrounded by rolling green hills in the late afternoon light of a sunny, crisp day. So pretty. A really, really vibrant green, and seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
Actually, this was the middle of nowhere. It was my second visit. I was seriously glad to see the empty pickup truck parked about a dozen feet away at the edge of the single-lane dirt road. I really hoped it wasn't a standard shift. I might have forgotten to include that specification in my request. Yeah, look at me, Miss Plan-And-All-That.
I took a step toward the truck, my supple leather knee-high boots crunching the grass. It was obviously colder than I thought it would be. I could have put a jacket on over my leather getup, if only for show. Though to get my hands on a jacket, I'd have to seek out humans, and that was contrary to the objective of this brief excursion. I wasn't interested in getting into a situation where Chi Wen's horrific vision of the future had a chance to manifest. I was dodging destiny today... and caves... and loved ones for that matter.
So yeah, a jacket would have been a good idea. The dragons believed in training — and fighting, actually — in laced leathers. If I'd tried to change before leaving, I would have tipped my hand. Thankfully, I still had my trusty Matt & Nat satchel. My katana — a gift from my father — nestled between my shoulder blades where I wore it slung across my back. The two-handed, single-edged sword was easily accessible over my right shoulder. Its twenty-eight-inch blade was deadly sharp. The sword had been commissioned specifically for me — well, the alchemist part of me — and created as an empty vessel into which I could channel and store magic. The responsibility that came with such a gift weighed on me heavily, and I'd put my current plan into action only two days after Yazi had presented the sword to me.
Yazi was the warrior of the Guardians. Also, my father. My newly found father, who I'd never known and was still trying to get to know in between his guardian duties and my training schedule. He wanted me to train and train and train until I was strong enough to actually stop a train. Pulou the treasure keeper wanted me — rather obviously — to treasure hunt with him. And Suanmi, the fire breather, wanted me out of sight and out of mind. The six other dragons hadn't really weighed in, but I'm sure they would — given a hundred more years or so. Time held little meaning for any of them.
Guardians were perpetually swamped saving the world from whatever threatened it with extinction. Some, I'd heard, frequently disappeared for years, deeply entrenched in their duties. Others, like my father or Baxia the rain bringer — who dispelled tidal waves and hurricanes if she was capable — moved from territory to territory as called upon. Chi Wen, the eldest guardian, didn't seem to comprehend time at all — whether it was a single day or week or a month. But, if it wasn't for the nine of them, I didn't think humanity would have made it through... well, anytime.
Ignorance — and I speak from a deep understanding of the concept — was definitely bliss.
A chilly gust picked the blond curls up off the back of my neck, bringing with it the earthy, floral scent of witch magic. I paused, my hand once again on the invisible jade knife at my right hip. Actually, it was the sheath — a gift from Gran — that was spelled to make the knife invisible, not the blade itself. That blade was the length of my forearm, hand carved from jade I'd found along the Fraser River on a hike outside Lillooet. The knife, along with the necklace of wedding ring charms I never took off, were the first magical items I'd made, even though I had no idea that I was an alchemist at the time.
A young woman, her hair a fiery mass of wavy curls, became visible as she stepped out from a witches' circle a few feet to the left of the front of the pickup truck. She was about my age, gazing at me with muted green eyes that stood out against her pale skin. She wasn't at all beautiful — her nose too big and chin too small — and yet she exuded an earthy sensuality. Men would shoulder by me to get to her any day.
"Hello, witch," I said. "Impressive cloaking spell."
The redhead nodded. "It's a family thing," she said. "Rooted in the rocks of our ancestral land." She gestured around her. "Amber Cameron, granddaughter of Mauve, Convocation secretary, at your service." Her accent would quadruple her heartbreaker status.
Okay, then. The witch's magic was dim compared to the power of the portal and the grid point, hence my not picking it up right away. She carried the earthy base that identified her as a witch. Against that, her own magic was sugared, vanilla tones but not sickly sweet... brown sugar toffee, maybe? Also, the witches' Convocation had a secretary? Like, to take notes and distribute minutes?
"It's a portal, then," Amber stated rather than asked.
I didn't answer. She was younger than I'd first taken her to be. Maybe closer to nineteen. She was wearing the most gorgeously comfy green Aran cardigan. It was long enough to cover her ass and well-worn jeans. I wondered if she'd be up for a trade, except she was about four inches shorter than me and had no hips to lament.
"I... Normally my brother would come." She stumbled over the words. "He's older and the duty is his. But he's away at university."
My silence was unnerving her. I felt bad about that and very unlike myself, but I wasn't going to blather about dragon magic. Not that dragons were a secret or anything. They were relegated to myth status due to rarity, not mystery. I'd only met a dozen or so myself in the last three months, while living in the dragon nexus that was supposedly their home base.
"The request was for a drop off only, not an escort," I said, trying to be nice but firm about it. I'd studied up on the protocol of such things before coming. Major portals — ones that lay over the grid points — often had a guardian who oversaw them. Only dragons — or half-dragons in my case — could open and pass through portals unaccompanied. Pulou, the treasure keeper, could create portals and temporary doors other than the ones that lay over the grid points, but enlisting his help would have alerted my father to the fact that I was leaving, if only temporarily. It was past time that I started cleaning up some messes.
"Yes. Yes," Amber answered. "I know, but you left too much money."
"That's a poor excuse for breaking the rules." Yeah, that was just who I was these days — boring, dependable, and on task.
"You are... you can... you're a witch. Jade Godfrey, granddaughter of Pearl, the Convocation chair." I'd signed my name to the request. It felt deceptive not to. "A witch who walks through portals?"
"Sure," I answered. "Let's go with that. I really don't have time to —"
The golden, fresh magic of the portal blew open behind me and I groaned inwardly.
Damn, I'd taken too long.
I turned in time to see Drake tumble out of the glowing doorway and onto the grass about ten feet behind me. The thirteen-year-old was incapable of simply walking anywhere. He spent every hour of the day charging around. His dark hair fell across his almond-shaped eyes, and he brushed it away as he righted himself. He was grinning ear to ear at me.
"Found you!" the fledgling guardian declared. The portal snapped shut behind him. "Second guess, still pretty good. I was going to try Shanghai, where Yazi and I got the sword, but then I remembered that sorcerer you were looking for."
Damn it.
"Drake," I hissed. "Get your ass back through that..." I faltered. I hadn't actually confirmed it was a portal to the witch.
"Nope." The thirteen-year-old barreled the last ten steps to my side.
The red-haired witch meeped. Yes, meeped. Even if she couldn't taste the magic rolling off Drake like I could — all golden honey-roasted salted almonds and steamed milk — he probably looked otherworldly to her.
Drake and I were dressed practically identically, in black laced-leather vests and pants. His were more broken in than mine, though, and his gold broadsword was more obvious across his back. He was as tall as my ears now and had easily grown an inch a month since we'd first met — and fought a demon together — in the dragon nexus. I figured he'd be six feet in a matter of months. His shoulders and feet were already too wide for the rest of him. Like a puppy, actually. Give him a couple of years and he'd be as formidable as any of the guardians. I'd seen him try to eat an entire roast pig by himself. Yeah, dragons liked roasting things, mostly fowl. Not that I'd ever found the nexus kitchen or managed to get my hands on any chocolate, no matter how many times I tried. The nexus wasn't a labyrinth or anything. Given that it housed nine of the most powerful beings on earth, it was actually deceptively small — unless you knew where you were going. Yeah, I couldn't wrap my head around that either.
Just at the thought of chocolate, I began jonesing. I was seriously deprived. I really wouldn't recommend going cold turkey. Hell, I wouldn't recommend going one day without some sort of chocolate-imbibing, let alone three and a half months.
"He's thirteen," I snapped at the red-haired witch. If she got any more awestruck, she'd melt into a pile of goo. That would be annoyingly sticky.
"Hello!" Drake cried. Unhelpfully, he was grinning at Amber like she was his new favorite toy. His voice was far too loud for the quiet of the countryside.
I put on my stern face. I'd had a lot of practice with it now, specifically with Drake. "I mean it."
"Nope."
"Drake."
"If I go back, I tell everyone you've left. You've got maybe twenty-four hours before Branson comes looking for you. Want to shorten it?"
Double damn. Branson, the sword master, was our trainer. He was a dragon, but not a guardian. Yep, not all dragons were guardians. As far as I'd figured out, there were less than fifty nonguardian dragons worldwide. Branson had been in line for Yazi's guardianship... or seat... or whatever, but was severely injured before he could take on the mantle of the warrior. Technically we had tomorrow off — one day of rest every nine days — so I'd known I'd be able to get away fairly cleanly. Until Drake followed me.
"So we're hunting the sorcerer?" he asked hopefully.
I sighed. Rock? Hard place? Meet my head.
"Sorcerer?" Amber asked. "You seek Blackwell?"
"It doesn't concern you, witch," I said, still attempting to be firmly polite. I was quickly losing control of this situation, and I wasn't even ten steps into it.
"Well, you'll be heading to Blackness Castle then," she responded archly. "And I can direct you better than that iPad you had me put in the glove box."
"Fine," I said. "There just better be treats in there as well." Yeah, I'd put that in the request. So? I knew myself that much at least.
"Fudge," the witch said. "Chocolate. A family recipe."
I rewarded her with a blinding smile. She managed to not stumble back from the wattage of it, but I sensed it was a struggle as I made a beeline for the truck and went hunting for the offered fudge. It would be insanely sweet. Probably enough to give me a headache. But I found all fudge too sweet, and still I was desperate to get it in my mouth. Um, yeah, I was aware that said a whole lot about me beyond the fact that I was craving chocolate.
"You're a witch?" Drake asked the redhead.
"Amber Cameron, granddaughter of Mauve, Convocation secretary."
Drake bowed to her formally, as if he'd just remembered his manners. "Drake, ward of Suanmi, the fire breather. Apprentice to Chi Wen, the far seer."
Amber's jaw dropped. She had no idea what he was talking about, but it still impressed her. People were so like that. Not that Drake didn't have an impressive pedigree. But why was it that the things we didn't have or didn't understand impressed us, even as the wonders we knew seemed ordinary and even trite? If only Sienna had been happy, content with her life and magic —
I yanked open the passenger door of the pickup as I shoved the 'if only' out of my thoughts. We were so far beyond 'if only' that it wasn't funny or sad anymore. It was just time. Time to stop.
"Show me a spell?" Drake asked.
The witch managed to raise her chin a little at this request. I guessed Drake wasn't so awe-inspiring when he wanted to see magic so badly he asked for it. Amber had no way to understand that the fledgling didn't play Adept power games. At the peak of the power pyramid, dragons had no need for such posturing.
She shrugged and stepped sideways into her witches' circle. She disappeared. I could still pick up traces of her brown sugar toffee magic, though, now that I had the taste of it.
Drake whistled as he paced around the circle. Now that I looked closer, I could see that it was a ring of smallish stones. Ancestral stones, Amber had said. That would be a bitch to lug around, but it was obviously super effective.
However, even shiny new magic couldn't distract me from chocolate. If I was quick enough, I might be able to get my hands on the fudge without Drake noticing. I really didn't feel like wrestling him for it. His boundaries and strength weren't well defined. As in, he had endless strength and absolutely no boundaries. He was a fledgling guardian raised by fully actualized guardians. At twenty-three, I was the only person Drake knew who wasn't a hundred years older and stronger than him. Dragons weren't big breeders. Presumably, saving the world from utter destruction every other day got in the way of that... a lot.
How the hell was I going to get him back through the portal?
I insisted that Drake sit in the bed of the pickup truck, which was open rather than canopied. I was worried his magic would fry the iPad, then the truck's engine. Driving on the left side of the road was discombobulating enough, I didn't need the distraction of the truck breaking down.
I didn't manage to shake the witch either. I needed to work on my solo intimidation factor. No one wanted to hang around when I was flanked by a vampire and a werewolf. Well, no one aware of their own mortality... so that would have excluded Drake. Yeah, I missed Kandy and — as odd as it was to admit — Kett. Last time I'd managed to check in, Kandy was in Portland leading the pack hunt for Sienna, who'd escaped the Sea Lion Caves with Mory in tow. Mory was still missing, presumed dead by anyone who'd known Sienna for more than half a minute. We didn't talk about it though, and I — as always and forever — held out hope for the necromancer's safety. I had no idea where Kett was and no way to contact him. The portal magic fried cellular phones. And Desmond? Well, I hadn't tried to contact the alpha of the West Coast North American Pack, and I thought it was best left that way.
Drake didn't mind being in the open air, though I had to pull over and berate him for jumping in and out of the truck while we were moving. This maneuver had startled Amber so badly that she actually shrieked, then wept a little when the adrenaline surge wore off.
I felt sorry for the witch, even though she'd forced herself on me. She claimed she'd have to walk over an hour to get home if I didn't drive her, and that she would therefore freeze to death.
The urge to scream, then cry when around crazily high-powered Adepts doing crazily high-powered feats didn't ease over time. I'd just always had cupcakes, chocolate — and now — dogged focus with which to smother my terror.
Amber twisted her fingers through the ties of the drawstring bag in which she'd collected her ancestral stones. Earthy, sweet magic thrummed underneath her hands.
"The stones are unique," I said. "Are they passed down through generations of your family?"
"No," Amber replied. "When it is time, we walk the land. If the stones speak to us, then we collect them."
"When it's time? Like a rite of passage?"
"If you like." Amber shrugged, not looking up from her entwined fingers. She was embarrassed, perhaps by her reaction to Drake's maneuver.
"So the stones are natural to the land? Specifically around the grid point?"
"Yes."
"But they taste of your base magic. The magic you must share with your family."
Amber looked up at me. Yeah, even in the old country — as Gran called anywhere overseas — tasting magic was a rare ability. "They do? Like what?"
"Brown sugar toffee, with a hint of something floral, maybe."
"Thistle?" Amber asked.
"I don't know if I've ever smelled thistle before. Why that?"
"It's the family emblem. For austerity."
"That makes sense," I said. "Can you cast without the stones?"
"Of course," Amber replied. Her nose went out of joint at the suggestion, which informed me that her magic was at its strongest when tied to the stones.
It was fascinating. I'd spent dozens of hours in the dragon library, soaking in as much magical theory as I could in between training sessions. Yet, still there was something new to learn from a witch family that was generationally tied to the magic of Scotland and the Loch More grid point. Six months ago, I had no real idea about the magical world I'd been sheltered from — or rather, denied, according to Sienna.
"How much farther?" I asked.
"The Cameron lands stretch from and through Loch More," the red-haired witch replied proudly. She gestured to either side of the still empty but now paved single-lane road. Green hills and more green hills — some spotted with seemingly spray-painted sheep — stretched as far as my eyes could see. I didn't ask about the sheep. I was having a hard enough time maintaining control of the situation without admitting ignorance as it was.
"Would you prefer to walk?" I asked sweetly, not even remotely interested in managing a junior witch who was breaking the rules of etiquette all over the place. Things like cellphones and cars couldn't pass through a portal — the intense concentration of magic fried electronics — so dragons had contacts who facilitated their movement through the human world when necessary. Though I understood it was rare that actual guardians ever needed such things.
"Ten more minutes," Amber answered.
Silence fell between us. I'd been away from humanity for over three and a half months, but I had no real interest in chatting. I just wanted to get to Blackwell, and... well... move forward from there.
I also wanted to get my hands on the iPad to check what time it was in Vancouver. It had been at least two weeks since I'd spoken to Gran or my mom, Scarlett. And I thought... well, I hoped there was some tiny chance that Mory was home safe and sound, exactly where she would have been if I'd turned her away from my apartment. She'd come to me seeking information about her brother's murder. Her brother, Rusty, had been magically drained and killed by my sister. Yeah, it was a sordid tale. I desperately wanted the fledgling necromancer safe and sound, and not in the clutches of my evil foster sister — cue dramatic music — and not possibly dead. Possibly? Hell, most likely dead.
"Is he going to do that again?" Amber asked, meaning Drake jumping in and out of a moving vehicle. She'd seen the stunt in the side-view mirror the first time, and she kept nervously glancing there now.
"Probably," I answered. "He's still distracted by the fudge. He's never had it before." I'd had to give up the fudge in order to placate the fledgling. Life was all about compromises these days.
"Is he... is he a dragon, then?" Amber asked.
"Yes." No point in lying about it. Her family had a history — most likely an actual chronicle — that must have passed down the guardianship of the Loch More portal and detailed who they were guarding it for.
"You called him Drake."
"That's his name."
"Then he is not a guardian? Not one of the nine?"
"Not yet." Even a witch in the middle of nowhere Scotland knew more about the Adept world than I had six months ago. Or she was just way quicker at putting things together.
"But you... you are a... witch?"
"Sure."
"But not really?"
"It's fine then, in Scotland, to ask an Adept about her magic? Not a breach of etiquette?"
Amber lifted her chin defiantly, but looked away from me. "You asked about the stones."
"You offered the information freely."
Amber nodded, letting the topic of my magic drop.
The rolling green hills to either side of the road really did seem to go on forever. But then, I wasn't too sure of the speed limit so I wasn't driving terribly quickly. Sheep and cows were abundant now, but there was a lack of cars and homes. Or rather farms, I guessed.
"Blackwell —" Amber began to say.
"Also not an acceptable topic of conversation." I cut the witch off.
"It's just that the Camerons have an understanding with the sorcerer."
"Hear no evil? See no evil?"
"Sorry?"
"Nothing," I answered. "A lot of the Adept seem to have agreements with this particular sorcerer."
Amber nodded. "He is powerful, and he keeps to himself."
"I'm not asking you to come with us to Blackness Castle."
"I'm... I'm offering." The witch set her hands and eyes on the pouch containing her ancestral stones.
"That would be rather foolhardy of you."
"But it is my duty. You called upon me as your guide —"
"So guide us. Do you know how to work the map app in the iPad?"
"Of course."
"Your help is greatly appreciated."
Amber set her jaw but nodded her head in acceptance of my terms. I got that the junior witch wanted to see what was going to happen at Blackness Castle. But I wasn't going to be responsible for anyone getting hurt ever again. I still had errors and omissions to clear up and correct. I wasn't adding Amber to the list.
Drake, though. Well, as far as I'd seen, Drake was indestructible.
We dropped the witch at the end of a long driveway leading to a house that looked like a manor. Given the area, I'd been expecting a farmhouse.
I pulled away, leaving the pouting redhead at the front gate as Drake decided to climb into the passenger seat. Yes, while the truck was moving.
Amber's jaw — seen in my rearview mirror — dropped as Drake opened the door and swung himself into the seat.
I immediately tucked the iPad into the pouch on the driver's-side door in an attempt to save it from Drake's magic. "Show-off," I muttered.
Drake laughed and started digging through the glove box... looking for more food, I imagined.
"Don't touch that," I said, as Drake pulled out the cellphone I'd requested from Amber.
"Ah," Drake said, doing his best Chi Wen impression without actually realizing he was doing an impression. "A cellular phone."
Suanmi was the fledgling's actual guardian. His parents had died in some terrible fire, though what fire was capable of killing a dragon, I didn't want to know. Chi Wen was Drake's mentor. The fledgling was destined to wear the mantle of the far seer once Chi Wen was ready to shed it, sometime in the next hundred years or so. Yeah, I'd been living it for three and a half months, and it was all still mind-boggling for me.
"I was going to call my mom," I said with a sigh, holding my hand out for the phone. Drake tossed it to me. Technology held no fascination for the fledgling, probably because nothing actually functioned around him.
I tried turning the phone on. It started to boot up, so maybe I'd gotten lucky —
"Will the witch follow us?" Drake asked. Then he stuffed something in his mouth so quickly that I couldn't actually identify it as food.
"I hope not," I answered.
"It is foolish to hope for an outcome you know will not happen."
"Oh, thank you, sage one."
Drake grinned. He popped something else in his mouth, chewed, and then swallowed.
Gum. He was eating gum.
"Stop that!" I snapped. "It's gum. You're just supposed to chew it."
Drake frowned. "What good is that?" He ate another piece.
"If you get sick, I'm not carting your ass around."
"I never get sick," Drake declared with utter confidence.
"You're hanging with me, kid," I said. " 'Never' just went right out the window."
Drake looked at me seriously for a moment — probably working through the window reference — and then broke into a broad grin. "I hope so, warrior's daughter. Never is a boring word."
Jesus. "Suanmi is so going to kick my ass," I muttered.
"That would not be good," Drake said, all serious now. "I fear you would not survive such an assault, but the fire breather rarely resorts to physical confrontation."
"Helpful."
"You are welcome."
"I was being sarcastic."
"I know." He didn't. He'd picked up the lying-but-not-really-lying thing from me. It wasn't as endearing a trait as I would have thought.
"So we meet the sorcerer and then what?" Drake asked. "Are we saving the necromancer?"
I sighed. The thirteen-year-old knew way more about my life than he should. But then, he'd been my constant companion for the last three months, and he asked a lot of questions.
"I hope so." I glared at the fledgling, daring him to pull out one of his sage sayings. He just smiled back at me, content for the moment. That calm would probably last for another thirty seconds.
"Maybe we'll have to storm the castle," Drake said gleefully.
And the calm was gone.
"At least I have a dragon," I said, knowing it was wrong to play along with Drake but desperately trying to channel some of his lightness. "You need a dragon to storm a castle, don't you?"
Drake threw his head back and laughed. It was a mannerism I thought he might have adopted from my father, Yazi, but one he embraced with abandon.
The truck engine stalled... then caught... then stalled again. I took my foot off the gas.
"Stop it," I said to Drake. Yeah, I said that to him a lot. It didn't seem to have any lasting effect.
He snickered. "We could get there faster on foot."
The engine caught again.
"You could, maybe. But the swords would be rather obvious out in the human world."
"What would the humans do if they saw swords?"
"They'd wonder. They'd ask questions."
"But we need not answer them," Drake insisted.
"This is why they don't let you out of the nexus yet," I said. "You can't just go blundering around in the world you're spending your entire life training to protect."
"You blunder just as much as me!"
"More, probably. But I can't bulldoze entire mountains in a single breath."
"Neither can I, though I don't understand 'bulldoze.' I assume it is bad."
"We're here to rescue, not to destroy, is what I mean."
"I don't destroy."
"But you don't create." The words were out of my mouth before I thought them through.
Drake fell silent. I forgot how young he was, all the time.
"I'm sorry —"
"No, alchemist," Drake interrupted. "You create. I protect. I understand."
"Okay."
"We are careful of the humans."
"And others."
"Yes, I will be careful."
"My version of careful, not yours."
"Your version?" Drake cried. "You would barely give me permission to breathe, you're so docile."
"Did you just call me docile?"
"Yes. Did that anger you? Perhaps we should fight?" the fledgling asked hopefully.
I shut my mouth and clenched the steering wheel. I didn't like getting my ass handed to me by a thirteen-year-old on the training floor... or off it.
According to the Google Maps route that the witch had plotted, the drive was only supposed to take us two more hours in a fairly straight line. I could make it through two hours, couldn't I?
If the truck didn't break down first.
# 2
Blackness Castle was — literally — a castle. As in, built out of stone, with towers and one big wall running the perimeter and everything. I mean, I wasn't sure what I'd expected — the word 'castle' was in the name, after all — but I'd never actually seen a castle in person before. Forgive me; I'm from Canada. I was impressed by the Parliament Buildings in Victoria.
"There's a freaking gate," I said.
"It looks like a boat," Drake said.
I rolled the pickup truck to a stop in the gravel-filled area in front of the wide front lawn that ran the length of the castle. I swiveled to look at the fledgling guardian incredulously.
He was peering up and out of the windshield at the castle. "What? The two towers... north and south look like the stem and stern. It's long and narrow and it juts out into the water."
"Yeah," I muttered. "A really big stone boat."
Drake shrugged. Freaking dragons were impossible to impress.
Night had fallen right around the time the fledgling guardian's tummy had started growling. Drake didn't complain and I didn't stop for food. I also pushed the gas tank so much we might have been rolling in on fumes, which was fine because Drake was right. If we really needed to leave in a hurry, we'd probably get away quicker on foot.
The half moon was bright in the dark, clear sky, though it had rained for portions of the drive. A low stone fence branched off from the high castle wall to form a sort of front yard. The castle was set back, looking — as Drake had already said — as if it was floating in the Firth of Forth behind it.
It was impossible to tell from this vantage point if anyone was home. I couldn't see any lights on in the towers.
"So are we just going to knock on the front door?" Drake asked.
"Yeah. I think it's behind the castle gate, but that was the short version of the plan."
"What's the long version?"
"It was more of a plan B. You know, if he doesn't answer the door."
"We break it down."
"Yeah. Well, I break it down."
"And now you have me."
"Great," I said, casting a long look in Drake's direction. The fledgling grinned back at me, as if the idea of breaking into the powerful, potentially evil sorcerer's castle was like ice cream and video games for him. Maybe it was. There didn't seem to be any other dragons Drake's age around the nexus, nor did there seem to be a formal school or anything. Just our trainer Branson, who barked drills at us and let us loose in the library.
"Where are all the other fledgling guardians?" I asked as I opened the truck door and stepped out into the cool night. Nothing like a little friendly banter to lighten our short walk toward the deadly magical onslaught that potentially awaited. I wasn't underestimating Blackwell... well, not again, at least.
"There aren't any right now," Drake said. "Baxia will be the next guardian to choose her successor, and she doesn't need to do so for another two hundred years or so."
"What about Yazi's nephew or niece?" I hadn't met my younger cousins; I'd just hunted through my family tree wondering if my three-century-plus-year-old dad had any other children. He didn't. Guardians, it seemed, didn't breed often. I'd also tried to find information about guardian succession in the nexus library without any luck. I had no idea how potential guardian dragons were selected, how they ascended, or why each guardian then wielded unique magic beyond their inherent strength, agility, and invulnerability.
Drake shrugged, strangely silent as he followed me around the front of the truck. I let it drop.
The stars were clustered densely overhead, and I wondered what they would say about the next couple of life choices I was about to make. You know, if I could read stars.
"We only have twenty hours," I whispered, urging myself forward. I could take whatever the sorcerer could throw. Hell, I'd been training my ass off in anticipation of this moment for three months. Well, not this moment exactly, but a moment probably much, much worse. Blackwell had a thing for me. He was a collector, the same as Kett and I were collectors. Sienna was only interested in destroying... as far as I could tell, at least. Sienna, not Blackwell, was my ultimate target.
"Yeah," Drake said, but I couldn't remember right away what we'd been talking about. Then I picked up my own train of thought.
"Branson might not have come for me, you know," I said. "If you hadn't followed."
Drake shrugged. The moonlight glinted off the hilt of the gold broadsword behind his shoulder.
A shadow disengaged from the low stone fence that stretched behind Drake. My jade knife was in my hand before the taste of her magic hit me... bitter yet refined dark chocolate... more berry than citrus.
"Kandy?" I whispered.
Drake slipped behind me but didn't draw his sword. It was a well-practiced move. We'd determined early on that if he was behind me, my dowser senses were more accessible. By 'we,' I mean Branson figured it out. So Drake followed while I led. The fledgling hated it, and I wasn't a big fan of having that sword behind my back either. It wasn't exactly a precision weapon.
The shadow stalked toward me. Teeth flashed, their white enamel caught momentarily in the moonlight. Next thing I knew, I was running, then crushing a green-haired werewolf in a massive hug.
The werewolf in question gave as good as she got. If I wasn't half-dragon, my upper arms and back would have been seriously bruised.
"Kandy," I cried. I had missed her so much I forgot any and all decorum, not that I ever had much.
"Dowser," Kandy murmured as she buried her face in my curl-covered neck and inhaled. "You smell the same. That's good."
I pulled away from the hug to look at her. Even in the moonlight, I could see her green hair wasn't as perfectly dyed as it normally appeared. And she was slimmer than usual. More wiry than her typical litheness.
"You, however, do not look the same, dowser." The cool voice spoke from off to my right. "And it's not just the sword you carry or the new ability to wield it that is evident in your body."
Kett. Surrounded by Drake's and Kandy's magic, I couldn't taste the vampire's magic at all, but I could feel the life debt bond he owed me. It hung between us in the darkness like an unsprung trap. I didn't have to see him to know he would be untouched by the three-and-a-half-months that had passed.
"You've teamed up with a vampire?" I teased Kandy as I stepped back from our hug.
She shrugged. "He was here when I arrived."
"Oh? What brings you to Blackness Castle, Kettil, Executioner of the Conclave?" I asked mockingly. Vampires never did anything that didn't benefit them directly, though they were also all about the long game, so maybe I was missing something.
"I came directly from Portland," Kett said, not answering my question at all. "Blackwell was obviously the best lead to the black witch's whereabouts."
Kandy snorted. "Would have been nice of you to share that info, vamp."
"You've been here for three months?" I asked.
Kett didn't answer.
Kandy growled with frustration. "We can't get in."
"We can," Drake said from behind me.
We all turned to look at him. Even Kett stepped into the moonlight to lay eyes on the fledgling guardian. I still wasn't sure how the vampire collected shadows around him so thoroughly. He was dressed in his typical cashmere sweater and atrociously expensive jeans combo.
"I thought it might have been a dream," Kett murmured. His voice was unusually heavy with emotion.
"No such luck," I said.
Kett turned his ice-blue eyes on me and smiled. That should have probably scared me even sillier than I already was, except I welcomed it.
God, I missed my life. Even the terrifying parts, it seemed.
"You brought a dragon to storm a castle, eh, Jade?" Kandy peered over my shoulder, jumping to a conclusion about Drake's identity that must have been informed by Desmond's recounting of the events in the nexus. Kett wasn't chatty as a rule, and I'd had to keep our couple of phone conversations very short.
"You wouldn't expect anything less, would you?"
"Nope." Kandy grinned her patented predator grin. "I'm glad you're alive."
"Ditto, babe. Ditto."
I hadn't wanted to drag anyone — not my mother or Gran or Kandy — any farther into Sienna's mess than I already had, so I'd kept my mouth shut about my plans. But I was more than pleased that the green-haired werewolf was back by my side. And the vampire, of course, though I never quite knew what would happen the moment our interests diverged.
"Artillery fortified," Kett said. "The defensive spur to the southwest is the main entrance."
"Just point, vampire," I said. Only five minutes into our reunion, I was already snapping at him for being way over my head all of the time.
We were standing by the pickup and gazing at Blackness Castle. Surveying would be a better word, maybe, except I really had no idea what I was looking at.
Kett raised his hand to indicate a stone walkway to the far left of the castle. "He'll reside in the central tower," he added.
"The wards are impressive," I said. I'd scanned the length of the castle's nooks and crannies, and couldn't see any weak points in the magic that protected it and kept us out.
"Yes," Kett agreed. "But I wouldn't expect anything less of a sorcerer with Blackwell's lineage."
"Did you stop by the bakery for cupcakes?" Kandy asked. The castle neither impressed nor intimidated her. That unending confidence was the hallmark of most werewolves — but it was especially prevalent in Kandy, who was a pack enforcer.
"No time," I answered. My employee Bryn had graciously taken over my shifts in the kitchen. Todd, the espresso wizard, eagerly stepped up to full time. And my mother, Scarlett, was doing the bookkeeping. Cake in a Cup was my baby. Tending to it had been the first phone call I'd made, the first moment I'd made it out of the nexus — after letting my Gran know I was alive, of course. She wasn't too inclined to take Kett's and Desmond's word on that. "I was worried that bouncing in and out of the nexus would draw too much attention."
"Cupcakes? What are cupcakes?" Drake asked.
Kandy looked at me as if I was a complete stranger with two heads. "The dragon doesn't know what cupcakes are, Jade?" she mock-whispered. "Your world really is collapsing."
"On hold is a more accurate assessment... I hope."
"Maybe Blackwell has a kitchen," Kett said.
Now it was our turn to stare at the vampire, who might just have made some sort of joke. He looked back at us all with his cool demeanor firmly in place. It was quite the poker face, but it brought me back on topic, which might have been Kett's point.
"Is Blackwell inside?"
"Haven't seen him," Kandy said.
"Yes," Kett replied at the same time.
"He could be popping in and out with that amulet of his," I said. Blackwell wore a ruby amulet that tasted — to me — like sour cream and butter on a baked potato rather than his own earthy cabernet sorcerer magic. The amulet was an exceedingly rare transportation device, most likely created many hundreds of years ago by an alchemist far more powerful than I was. I gathered this artifact was also renowned among collectors — Kett had identified it by my brief description alone. Blackwell had called it his "most precious possession." It was also how he'd fled the Sea Lion Caves like the utter coward he was.
Kett shook his head and turned his gaze back to the castle.
"The vamp doesn't think the sorcerer would leave with us out here," Kandy elaborated.
"Too much to protect," Kett murmured. His anticipation was marked, though maybe it was just the tingle of pleasure I felt from the life bond that colored his tone. That was new, unexpected, and disconcerting. I wondered if Desmond felt that same sensation through our life debt bond. I really hoped not, but seeing as he'd felt my pain when Sienna tortured me, he'd probably felt my desire afterward as well. Since then, I hadn't taken the necklace off in Desmond's presence. I never took it off anymore, not even in the shower. If it wasn't for my necklace, I doubt I would have survived... well, Sienna. Actually, I still didn't know if I would survive my sister.
"Any visitors?" I asked. My voice was louder and sharper than I'd intended. I meant had Sienna shown up. The sudden silence that fell between us told me they knew who I meant. The mere mention of her dampened our easy camaraderie.
"No," Kandy said at last.
"Did you knock?" Drake asked.
The green of Kandy's magic rolled over her eyes as she grinned at the fledgling guardian. "Yeah, we knocked."
Drake nodded, very serious. "Plan B, then?"
"What's plan B?" Kandy asked.
I turned to the green-haired werewolf and grinned at her. The smile stretched my face as if the muscles were unused to the expression. "We huff and we puff —"
"And we blow the door down," Kandy said with an edgy chuckle.
"Artillery fortified," Kett repeated.
"You think Blackwell has guns set up?" Guns weren't something I'd considered. Magic screwed with such weapons so much that a sorcerer of Blackwell's power should find them utterly useless. And while just shooting Sienna from afar was a lovely — if bloodthirsty — daydream, she shielded herself with so much magic that a crossbow or bullet wouldn't get within a foot of her. Bullets — if Blackwell had somehow circumvented how magic screwed with guns — might work against Kandy, though. Silver bullets, specifically.
Kett didn't answer, which was typical when he didn't know an answer... or considered it beneath him.
"What about outer defenses and perimeter spells?"
"Disabled," Kett said. He sounded so pleased with himself I was surprised he didn't wink at me.
"Yeah, and no scaling the walls," Kandy said. She ran her hands over her arms as if remembering something nasty. I could hear her wolf in her voice, probably manifesting along with the thickening tension. I felt it too.
"A month is a long time to be away from your pack," I said quietly.
Kandy shrugged. "The fledglings must be avenged."
My stomach bottomed out. She meant Jeremy, who Sienna killed with Blackwell's sacrificial knife, and whose blood raised one huge, nasty demon. And she meant Mory.
"Have you heard..." I couldn't bring myself to ask — again — if Mory was dead.
"No, dowser," Kett said. "But the necromancer lives." His cool tone instantly soothed me. I liked the soothing part, but I didn't like the instant part. Since when did I feel comfortable around Kett? He liked to go all fangy and blood-lusty in tense situations... like this one.
"Do you have actual confirmation?"
"She wears a necklace constructed by you. She lives."
"You don't know." I choked down the emotion threatening to close off my throat. "You don't know that the necklace will... can... withstand three months of whatever Sienna's been doing."
Kett inclined his head, then turned his attention back to the castle.
I hated being potentially right about such a thing, more than I hated being wrong about everything else. Why had Sienna kidnapped Mory in the first place? For collateral? Even if it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, why hadn't she abandoned the necromancer as soon as she'd gotten clear of the caves? Or — as dreadful as the thought was — why not kill Mory and leave her body on Gran's doorstep or by the bakery to further torture me?
Kandy touched my shoulder, just lightly. But I could feel the brush of her dark-chocolate magic, and I welcomed the taste along with the gesture.
The castle intimidated me. I could admit it. I'd come through the portal all cocky and focused, and had immediately gotten derailed by Amber and Drake. Now, standing before the centuries-old structure, I was waffling. I was more unsure of my 'find Blackwell/find Sienna' plan with Kandy and Kett at my side than I'd been without them. Having them here made the last months far more real than that time had actually felt in the day-to-day living of it.
"We came all this way. Maybe Blackwell will play nice if we ask nicely?"
"He does have the hots for you," Kandy agreed. "But what if — faced with all four of us — he decides to pull more of those demons out of his pocket?"
"Demons, yeah!" Drake cried, utterly delighted at this possibility.
"One doesn't collect those kind of demons, werewolf," Kett said without turning away from the castle.
Kandy mimed ripping off the vampire's head and kicking it like a football behind his back.
"That was a greater demon," Kett continued. "I wouldn't have thought Blackwell was powerful enough to call it forth."
"He seemed surprised himself," I said. "Right before he ran like the utter coward he is." And with that terrible memory on the edge of my mind, I turned my reluctant feet toward the main entrance.
Kett stepped up to follow, just behind my left shoulder. "Fighting a coward is a very different prospect."
I nodded.
Kett stepped sideways into the shadows as we moved past the low fence and stood before the spur, as he had called it. The latticed iron gate, which was barely illuminated in the moonlight, loomed before us. It was wide enough that — if it stood invitingly open — we four probably could have walked through abreast. However — closed — it was secured at the top, bottom, and to each side into the thick stone walls and roof of the spur. Even Kandy, as slim as she was, wouldn't find an opening wide enough to slip through.
"There'll be traps," I said. "Even if he agrees to let us in voluntarily. He likes to hide spells in things, boxes and such." I directed this last caution to Drake, who was practically vibrating directly behind me. I took a deep breath and reminded myself the thirteen-year-old was invulnerable. If I tried to make him stay in the truck, he'd probably get into worse trouble than he would surrounded by Kandy, Kett, and me. Or so I hoped. I had a bad habit of being wrong. Like, a whole lot.
"You got any chocolate, Jade?" Kandy whispered.
"Just your magic, Kandy."
"That doesn't help me," Kandy bitched, but I could hear that she was smiling.
I stepped forward until I was an arm's length from the outer wards. Those defenses seemed to be attached to the stone of the curtain wall rather than placed in the yard itself. I reminded myself of the power of Amber's ancestral stones. This was Blackwell's ancestral home. Being a sorcerer, he couldn't access natural magic the same way a witch could. But this castle had been in his family for generations. Yeah, the dragon library was extensive and detailed. It was finding the information that had taken the time. Digging through handwritten chronicles was way more intensive than Googling. Anyway, Blackwell's magic would be potent here.
I opened my dowser senses to the magic of my three companions, breathing in Kett's cool peppermint, Kandy's bitter chocolate, and Drake's honeyed almond. I firmed my offensive stance — left foot forward, right foot back with more weight on the ball of the foot than the heel — and ran my fingers across the knife at my hip. I twined the fingers of my left hand through the wedding ring charms of my necklace.
I could do this. Blackwell might be able to take on any one of us solo, but four together were pretty darn intimidating. Castle or no castle.
Of course, I was deliberately not factoring in that Blackwell owned the world's foremost collection of magical artifacts — well, apart from the dragon cache. That was an unknown bitch. This collection ranked high on the dragon watch list, and it usually took the end of the world to get the attention of one of the nine. Speaking of bitches, Scotland was under Suanmi's protection. One look at the fire breather and Blackwell would give up his best friend. Too bad Drake's guardian hated me, and that anything below nuclear annihilation was beneath her notice.
Then Kett laughed. He was enjoying himself, maybe even feeding off my anxiousness. I wrapped my hand around the hilt of my knife as his pleasure and anticipation hit me through the life debt bond he owed me. Well, that was new. Of course, I hadn't actually been in the same room as him since extracting the bond to save him from the cleansing of the dragons.
I laughed, deep in my throat and quietly. The vampire's confidence was infectious. What was the point in being immortal — he was thinking — without a challenge?
"Okay," Kandy said. "Now you're both being really creepy."
"Power up, wolf," I said. "It's time to dance."
Kandy laughed. "I like it when you dance, dowser."
"Everyone likes it when Jade dances," Kett said from the shadows to my left.
"Is it like when she fights?" Drake asked. "Because that's pretty cool."
"Hush, youngling," Kandy said. "The elders are being inappropriate."
I laughed again, lighter and more freely this time. Then I pulled my knife from its invisible sheath and flung it at the wards that covered the gate before me. The knife crashed against the magical barrier with a blue-streaked crack of energy.
"Knock-knock, sorcerer!" I called as the knife boomeranged back into my open palm. Yep, the blade returned to me at mere thought now. This newly refined trick made me rather difficult to disarm. "Time to come out and play."
"Yeah, or we'll huff and we'll puff and we'll blow your castle down," Kandy cried, repeating the story book mantra from before.
I laughed. The anticipation of the fight invigorated me. I itched to draw my new sword, to press my strength against another's. To be beaten and get up. Or to triumph. I was game for either.
Who the hell had I turned into?
"Jade Godfrey." A voice floated out of the darkness behind the latticed metal gates on the other side of the wards. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You invited me, Blackwell," I answered. "You know, before you colluded to murder two innocent teenagers and aid my sister in draining my magic."
Blackwell stepped forward into a wash of moonlight that just touched the gate. His pale face appeared to be slashed to pieces by the iron latticework. His dark hair and clothing blended into the night. The effect was creepy to say the least.
"You must know, dowser, that was never my intention. I was blinded —"
"A sorcerer of your lineage and power was blinded by a half-witch in a blood frenzy?" Kett's voice cut through the shadows that hid him. "That is difficult to believe."
Blackwell flicked his eyes to my left, but he didn't seem to be able to see the vampire. "I was blinded by the thought of opening the portal, especially after I knew what it was. And, indeed, by the promise of your magic, Jade. The promise of a dowser of your obvious power." His hand lifted to touch his chest, just briefly. I gathered he wore his precious amulet beneath his dark sweater, but I couldn't feel its magic through the wards. "Nothing more or less."
"Take down the wards, Blackwell," I said. "And I'll give you a taste."
Blackwell tilted his head, assessing me. Then he grinned. "It's unfortunate that you come to me so heavily guarded, dowser. Otherwise, I'd gladly take you up on that offer."
"Scared of the vampire and the werewolf?" I said, goading him. "They didn't stop you before."
"But they are not all who stand with you, Jade Godfrey," Blackwell replied. "The wards block me from fully understanding, but you have a third with you as well."
"Perhaps that's my magic you feel."
Blackwell laughed. "You're a tease, Jade." His use of my first name was intimate. I didn't like it at all.
"This is so boring!" Drake complained. His voice was shockingly loud against the quiet banter Blackwell and I had been trading. "We can crack the wards. Right there." The fledgling shoved his arm by my shoulder and pointed to the base of the gate. "Let's get to the tricks. You'll have tricks, won't you, sorcerer?"
Drake pulled out his broadsword. The gold of the blade caught the moonlight. Dragons were big on gold and jewels, and flash in general.
I sighed.
Kandy laughed, low, husky, and full of anticipation. "I like this boy, Jade. I'm glad you brought him to play."
"I didn't bring him willingly."
Blackwell was staring at the thirteen-year-old boy standing in his walkway. Drake was clad identically to me, in black, well-worn laced leathers minus the knee-high boots. The get-up had to look like a Halloween costume on both of us. The wards would block Blackwell from feeling Drake's full power, but the sorcerer wasn't an idiot.
I sighed again. I, too, had seen the edging around the gate where the wards had been opened and closed for centuries. Worn spots. The sorcerer had been remiss in his upkeep, which was odd when he must have expected visitors. More likely, he thought too highly of himself, or maybe he wasn't able to perceive the weakness in his own defenses. Perhaps he needed to be cut down to size...
Again, who the hell was I?
I was angry. So angry at Blackwell that I could barely contain it beneath my polite upbringing.
"Perhaps the sorcerer would prefer we didn't break his wards?" I asked mockingly. "Perhaps I should offer a parley?"
Blackwell shifted his gaze back to me. "You have no authority to do so."
"Do I need a badge of some sort? No, let's forget that silly being-nice idea. Perhaps the sorcerer would like to face me one-on-one? We're evenly matched, aren't we, Blackwell? Will you test your spells against my knife?"
Blackwell eyed my jade knife as I twirled it in my right hand. I knew he found it shiny and unique. It was one of a kind, after all, but would that be enough to entice him?
No.
Blackwell stepped back into the darkness of the spur entrance. I couldn't feel anything beyond the wards of Blackness Castle, but I was sure he was gathering as much magic as he could muster.
So we went in.
# 3
Okay, it wasn't that easy.
Before anything else happened, Kandy — in a blast of shifter magic — transformed. I'd seen her in wolf form before, but this was different. Now half-woman, half-werewolf, she towered over the three of us, all long-toothed, razor-clawed, and furry, but still on two legs. This was Kandy's version of Desmond's half-beast, who I referred to as McGrowly. A few shifters had the ability to combine their beast and human forms. This hybrid was stronger and more resistant to magic. She — still clothed in a stretched-out tank top and ripped jeans — wasn't quite as hideous in this form as McGrowly was. She was a sleeker monster, but still nightmare inducing. If, you know, she didn't happen to pretty much be my best friend in the entire world.
"Whoa," I said. "I see I'm not the only one who's been practicing."
Kandy snapped five-inch-long teeth at me and laughed. At least I thought she laughed. It wasn't a joyful sound.
"Too cool," Drake said.
Kandy pointed one three-inch claw at me. Yes, she still had opposable thumbs — which were also clawed — as well as pointy wolf ears sticking out of her still-dyed green hair. "Owe. Witch. Cupcakes." She choked the words out of-not-quite human vocal cords. McGrowly's ability to converse in this form was obviously something he'd refined further than Kandy had.
"You name it, you got it." I turned back to the gate, scanning the edges where the magic had thinned. Well, it was more like wear spots. Worn layers that had built up like crumbs at the corners of a cookie jar.
Deciding that the worn magic was easier to access at the bottom, I laid down on my stomach, facing the gate, and took a deep breath to prepare myself... not that breathing would make the pain any easier to bear.
I slid my jade knife along the flagstone walkway underneath the gate.
The magic of the ward resisted, of course. Pain streaked up my arm and through my neck, trying to get out my mouth. Multicolored sparks exploded before my eyes and I tried to blink them away. Then — the pain increasing with every inch — I slid my knife along the bottom edge of the gate, severing the ward's connection to the stone of the walkway.
It was kind of like carefully slicing a cupcake in two after you've already iced it, so you can add filling. Except cutting cupcakes usually didn't rack me with pain.
I had cut through about a foot of the ward before I started screaming. I had to force myself to continue. This wasn't the type of magic I could absorb or displace and be done with. It shifted, fighting my intrusion. I tried to shield myself further with the protective power of my necklace, but it still felt like every nerve in my arm was on fire.
I'd cut through and along about two feet when Drake stepped on either side of my shoulders and reached down to curl his fingers under the tear I'd created.
"Not yet, fledgling," Kett said. "Let the alchemist sever the sides, and then we will all step in and distribute the backlash."
Drake wasn't big on listening... or on waiting around for others to open a door for him. He jammed his fingers underneath the ward and the lattice iron gate, and with a bellow that hurt my brain, he wrenched the gate up and open.
The ward magic — centuries strong — lashed around the fledgling guardian, who fell to his knees under the assault. This effectively trapped me underneath his legs. With another grunt, Drake lifted the gate above his head.
Kandy flung herself forward and underneath, then rolled — back down, feet upward — to take the weight of the gate on her legs.
With a moan, the fledgling dragon collapsed forward. Kett caught him before he crushed my head, set him off to the side, and then stepped forward to help Kandy hold the gate.
I rolled to my feet, grasped Drake underneath the shoulders and — squeezing between Kandy and Kett, who were vibrating with the pain of holding the compromised wards open — ducked underneath the gate while dragging Drake after me.
I hadn't taken more than two steps into the spur, as Kett called it, before he and Kandy had dropped the gate behind them. The ward didn't fully snap back into place.
"We've damaged it," I whispered. "Two feet of clearance at the bottom now." Kett and Kandy couldn't see magic as well as Drake and I could.
The fledgling dragon attempted to sit up but didn't make it.
"The fledgling probably has the extra magic cycling through him right now," Kett said. He sounded bemused and impressed. I wasn't sure the ward magic or Kett's doubly raised interest was healthy for Drake.
"Give me a mo..." Drake muttered.
I propped him up against the wall. He looked okay, just woozy. His magic looked and tasted as usual. "He's undamaged," I said.
"Good," Kett said. "He can follow. We must press Blackwell at once."
"There's a ton of magic ahead," I said. The stone walls of the entrance jogged immediately left.
"Yes," Kett said. "The spur is doglegged to force intruders to place their backs to the caponier. The passage is also exposed to attack from the parapet on the upper walk. Also, note the gun batteries —"
"English," Kandy growled through nastily fanged teeth.
I was seriously glad the werewolf had broken before me. I hated to admit that I had no freaking idea what Kett was saying... like with every second word out of his mouth, as always. Doglegged? Caponier? Parapet?
"See those holes in the wall?" Kett enunciated each word, treating us like the idiots we were.
"Yep," I answered. Kandy simply snarled and flexed her claws.
"They are places where the castle's defenders would have attacked intruders."
"Right," I said. "Avoid stepping in front of the holes."
Kandy's size was a liability in the narrow, tall stone passageway, but she stepped forward and ducked underneath the first of the 'gun batteries.' Lanterns flared as she passed, perhaps triggered by her magic. Helpfully, this further illuminated the walls and corners for me. I knew from experience that Kandy and Kett could already see well in the darkness.
"Pockets of magic everywhere," I said. "Try to not touch anything."
Kett nodded and stepped so far into the shadows between the lanterns above us that he practically disappeared. I could still taste his magic, though, and feel the life debt bond. I wondered if he could ever fully hide from me again.
"Drake?" I asked. "Do you need some help?" I wasn't actually sure I could lift him. He was way heavier than he looked. Epically heavy for a thirteen-year-old. I thought it was a dragon thing. I'd never managed to knock Branson off his feet in training, though I had some spectacular bruises to show for my attempts.
"Right behind you," Drake murmured sleepily.
I sighed. Kandy and Kett were turning again — I could feel their magic shift as they moved — and I didn't want them to get too far ahead. I should be leading, given that I could actually see magic way better than Kett. Kandy was almost completely blind to it, though I gathered she could smell certain magic... like mine.
I reached over Drake's head and pulled his sword out of its scabbard. I laid the blade across his lap and wrapped his hand around the hilt. He clenched his fingers obligingly.
"Right behind you, warrior's daughter," he said with a grin. The title made the bottom drop out of my stomach. It was weighted with all the responsibility that also imbued the gift of the sword across my back.
Then Kandy screamed. Well, yowled, as if she was in terrible pain.
I stood, spinning away from Drake and dodging defensive magic as it exploded around me — Kett was right about the gun batteries. I dashed through the zigzagged stone passageway until I rounded the corner into the courtyard.
"Kandy?" I cried, unable to see anything besides the large central tower looming beyond. The spur and the curtained wall were open to the night air.
"In the guardroom to your right." Kett's cool voice slid out of the shadows ahead of me.
I swiveled and peered into the darkness. As if reacting to my movement — or, rather, my magic — a light spell shifted over me. Bars crisscrossed a doorway that seemed to lead to a small stone room. Thick silver bars.
Within the room, Kandy was hunched down. Her hands were pressed to the ground before her, her back arched in pain. Her skin rippled as I watched her shed her half-beast form for her human skin. She was still wearing her stretched-out tank top and ripped jeans, but now her exposed skin was covered in nasty red slashes.
"Silver," I whispered. "He expected werewolves."
"One has been camped in his front yard for weeks," Kett murmured. He was closer now, immediately to my left where he always stood. This position kept him guarding my weaker side and out of the way of my knife, which I wielded with my right hand. It had only taken three and a half months of dragon training to figure out why he always positioned himself that way.
Kandy lifted her head. Her eyes gleamed with the green of her shapeshifter magic as she snarled at me. "Move your ass, dowser. Before Blackwell uses the amulet."
"He won't abandon his collection," I said. I had the sorcerer pegged.
"If it is here," Kett said.
"Why else would he hole up here and need these defenses?" I countered. But I knew Kandy and Kett were right. I'd already left Drake behind, and I was now going to leave my werewolf friend trapped and in pain. This was who I was now. I didn't have to like it. I just had to do it.
I stepped away from the guardroom doorway, turning toward the central tower. Blackwell might have expected retribution from the shapeshifters for Jeremy's death, but he had no idea what I was capable of.
"He's on the other side of the tower," I said, not bothering to lower my voice. "Outside, not in."
Kett nodded in my peripheral vision and stepped left as I branched off around the right side of the tower. I kept about ten feet away from the stone walls. They glistened with a magic that was different from the wards we'd just broken through. I didn't know its purpose or function, and didn't have time to study it. The Blackwells — if that wasn't just a completely made-up surname — had spent centuries fortifying their home.
Everything could be broken, though, or so I was learning. Promises, hearts, lives...
Blackwell went for the vampire next. It made sense that he would try to take Kett out, assuming I was the weaker opponent. It was still rude, and maybe a touch misogynistic.
The spell he used, however, was brilliant.
We'd circled the central tower and met with what appeared to be a well between us. Then we stepped toward the open expanse of courtyard in the direction of the north tower, where I was sure Blackwell had retreated.
A whirling fog rose out of the well beside Kett and spread out between us. It enveloped the vampire without a sound. No, not fog. A gray cloak of magic that reeked of day-old, cheap red wine — overly sweet and nausea-inducing. This was not the refined, earthy cabernet that I associated with Blackwell's magic.
"Kett," I hissed.
The vampire didn't answer. He didn't step out from the fog, which just sat like a malevolent cloud beside the well.
It was a containment spell of some sort. Really impressive, and troubling because I couldn't reach into it or even slash at it with my knife without some concern of getting sucked in or injuring Kett. I couldn't injure the immortal, but it probably wasn't a good idea to mix his blood with any spell, especially one this... well, gray.
"Your protector is unharmed," Blackwell said as he stepped into a pocket of light ten feet in front of me. He flicked his fingers, and more light spells floated in from their resting spots on the curtain wall to illuminate the area around us.
"You going to stand up and fight now, sorcerer?" I taunted. Yeah, I was still pissed off about the demon and Jeremy's death. I was always going to be pissed about that, even after I kicked Blackwell's ass.
The sorcerer responded by throwing a black mass of magic at me. It was a weak, underhand toss.
I slashed this unknown spell — by its taste, a variation of the fog that had encased Kett — out of the air with my knife. I twisted sideways as the magic dissipated around me.
Blackwell's eyes widened. Yeah, the knife was pretty impressive.
"My sister might be evil through and through, but at least she hits me with everything she's got. Hell, she set that demon on my ass without even blinking. And she supposedly loves me. What's your excuse for holding back, Blackwell?"
The sorcerer flashed a grin at me as he spun another spell in his hands. I couldn't pinpoint the source of his power. He wore the amulet around his neck, but he wasn't drawing magic from it. I wondered if it was the castle itself, and that was an unpleasant thought. Its stone walls were long and high, and they were coated in massive amounts of magic.
"You're too valuable to truly harm, Jade Godfrey," Blackwell said.
He tossed the second spell at me. I stepped into it, thrusting my knife into the sparkling black mass of its magic instead of slashing. It took an extra pulse of my power, an extra breath to collapse this spell. Again, cheap red wine coated my mouth. I wanted to spit to clear the taste, but it wouldn't be ladylike — so I swallowed and promised myself a dark hot chocolate chaser.
"Why is your magic black?" I asked. "Shouldn't sorcerer magic be blue?"
Blackwell lost the grin. I had that effect on men these days... or this entire year, actually. I just had to open my mouth.
I could feel Drake moving behind me, near Kandy. I didn't want the fledgling stepping into this fight.
I lowered my knife, deliberately making myself vulnerable, and smiled brilliantly at Blackwell. "Let me give you a hint. I like it rough and ready. I don't like to screw around. Make your play or lose me forever. Because when I lay hands on you, you'll wish you'd shot to kill."
Blackwell's lips twisted and his spell hit from two different directions. The asshole could double cast, which was a real bitch.
The magic blasted me back to hit the curtain wall — six feet or so of thick stone. Later, I was rather proud to see I'd managed to crack it with my head, except at the time I felt like my skull was crumpling into exploding stars of magic.
This wasn't the fog spell that had enveloped Kett. Or maybe it was but it couldn't find a hold on me, so it left twisting rivers of pain in a wreath around my body as it tried to settle.
I slid down the wall to my feet, but then my knees buckled. Blackwell's dark magic swirled around me. Now that I was enveloped in it, I could see that it was actually dark blue edged with black. I hunched over as it seared me.
"Not so lippy now. Are you, little witch?" Blackwell taunted as he stepped closer. A nasty, thin-lipped smile stretched across his face, but his pupils looked like liquid pools of the same dark magic that swirled around me. I blinked and the effect was gone, but I remembered... I remembered Sienna, and how the black magic had slowly taken over her eyes from the pupil outward.
I arched back and up as the pain collected all along my spinal column. My breasts and martial arts-slimmed waist were now on full display.
Blackwell's smile widened into a toothy leer.
Then I channeled all his magic into the katana slung across my back. This was the blade's purpose — aside from lopping off heads, of course. It had been waiting patiently for me to push a spell into it, even as I'd waited patiently for Blackwell to step closer.
"I missed Halloween, sorcerer," I whispered. My knife was at his neck before he'd even registered that I'd moved. "Trick or treat."
Blackwell covered his surprise and swallowed against the press of my blade. "Treat."
I laughed, though I wasn't actually amused.
Drake and Kandy stepped up behind Blackwell. Kandy, who was still in human form, wrapped her hand around the back of the sorcerer's neck. "I owe you," she whispered up against his jugular vein.
"Look at the little witch now," I mocked. "And I didn't even bother drawing the sword."
Blackwell held my gaze steadily. Beaten, but brave. Or overly confident, maybe. He knew we needed him... for now.
I sighed and lowered my knife. "The vampire?" I asked.
Blackwell turned to look over his shoulder toward the column of fog that still held Kett. Except his gaze hit Drake and didn't move farther.
"W-What?"
Sorcerers could see or feel magic to various degrees, like I could. They had to in order to exercise their power. They couldn't just tap into the natural magic of the earth as most witches did... though some, like Sienna, chose to build their power through blood magic. The governing body of witches — the Convocation, of which my grandmother was the chair — seriously frowned on blood magic users. It was the sacrifice part of it that really irked them.
"The vampire," I repeated. I was getting ready to prod the mute Blackwell with my knife when a snarling mass of chaos clawed its way out from the fog.
"He figured it out," Blackwell said with a shrug.
I really, really hated it when powerful people shrugged about the workings of magic.
The snarling mass — all red eyes, fangs, and claws — swiveled its white blond head toward the sorcerer, then leaped at him like a terrifying mutant vampire cat.
Drake stepped into this projection of fury — his movement a blur even to me — and snatched the insanity out of the air, slamming it to the stone at his feet.
"Jesus... Mother of God," Blackwell breathed.
"You've got that backward, asshole," Kandy said.
Drake pressed his foot to Kett's chest. The vampire, who apparently had some sort of beast form like the shapeshifters, writhed and snarled. His claws shredded Drake's leather pants.
"Stop that!" I snapped. "You'll hurt the fledgling!" Yeah, I was suddenly everyone's mother... well, all the monsters, anyway.
Kett stilled and closed his blood-red eyes. He shuddered and recaptured his humanity... or at least his typical ice-carved countenance.
My heart was pounding in a way that it hadn't during the confrontation with Blackwell. I had momentarily thought Kett had gone rogue — not that I knew whether rogue vampires took that form — and that we'd have to put him down. He might have torn Blackwell and maybe even Kandy apart if Drake hadn't been here to intervene.
"There's a reason for everything," I murmured.
"So you have been listening during your lessons with Chi Wen, warrior's daughter," Drake said with a grin. "Nothing happens without purpose. It is just the why that is obscured."
I grinned back at him, crazy pleased that he was here, but not wanting to admit it and reinforce his rebellious behavior. He didn't need to think that every choice he made was fated.
"Warrior's daughter," Blackwell echoed. He was obviously trying to put everything together, but I wasn't interested in helping him out.
Kett opened his ice-blue eyes and locked his gaze to Drake's, who kept grinning as if this was all a game... and it probably was to him.
Drake lifted his foot off the vampire, who — in one fluid movement — stood at my side.
We three turned to look at Blackwell. Kandy still had her hand wrapped around the back of his neck. It was probably dangerous to be touching the sorcerer skin to skin. Kandy would risk death to avenge Jeremy, though, so I didn't caution her. Blackwell seemed neutered, his eyes constantly shifting between Drake and me.
"All right?" I asked Kett under my breath.
He nodded, but then shuddered again as if remembering something. I gathered that the fog had a psychological component. Impressive spell. Dangerously simple. Blackwell's finesse with magic just pissed me off more.
"Do we actually need to ask the questions, Blackwell?" I said.
"I will not provide information if my life is forfeit."
I sighed. I hated it when the Adept got all wordy and formal. There was magic in words. Words that I wasn't particularly versed in.
Kett inclined his head, agreeing to something. Blackwell nodded in response, but he still didn't speak.
"Sienna!" I snapped. "She's not here."
"No," Blackwell answered. "And I do hope it stays that way."
"Do you know where she is?" I was even more pissed that he'd made me ask. It sounded too close to begging once the words left my mouth. I also didn't like how much anger I was capable of, and that my capacity for it kept growing. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't like it for one second.
Standing before Blackwell was the next step in killing my sister.
"No," Blackwell answered.
I felt relieved, then felt guilty over that relief.
"But," the sorcerer continued, "if you are as powerful as you seem, I can give you a clue."
"What is the price of this boon?" Kett asked with a sneer. I don't think I'd ever seen the vampire sneer before. None of us liked the sorcerer playing us... and yet here we were trading moves.
Blackwell smiled, and I saw something in his face that reminded me of how Kett had said that the sorcerer would make a good vampire.
Blackwell would give me the means to hunt my sister, but in exchange I'd have to — somehow, I just knew — make him more powerful in return.
I met Kandy's gaze. The green-haired werewolf nodded her approval, though her rabid anger was evident in the sharp lines of her unnaturally elongated jaw — her wolf was eager to follow through with the kill.
"Show me," I said. And that was all it took to make the deal. I felt the magic hanging between us, making me itch. "But next time we meet, Mot Blackwell, all deals are void."
Blackwell stopped smiling. "I shall endeavor to not cross your path... warrior's daughter." He tested out the title, which seemed to scare and excite him at the same time. Then his gaze flicked to Drake.
The sorcerer was a devil in deep disguise. I just hoped what I was about to hand him didn't come back to bite me in the ass... or harm anyone else.
I sighed.
Blackwell inclined his head and stepped toward the central tower.
Magic vibrated off Kett and Drake. They, at least, were having a blast. The vampire had a short-term memory tonight, probably by choice.
"Don't touch anything," I said.
Kett laughed. Jesus, he was changeable. He was already anticipating laying eyes on Blackwell's collection. It was probably the only reason he was here. Forget rescuing Mory.
The fledgling dragon was just as excited about going inside the castle. He was hard to impress but easy to please.
"I want to break his neck," Kandy muttered as she stepped up beside me.
"Next time," I said. The words came from some place deep within me. I'd just voiced some bit of fate. I was half-dragon after all. Fate was a dragon thing.
# 4
The central tower of Blackness Castle was larger inside than out, which I was coming to understand was not unusual in the Adept world. Or at least not unusual in the world of the Adept I'd seen over the past three months in Europe and Asia. The castle's magic was old. Not as old as it had tasted in the dragon nexus, but way older than Gran or even Kett's magic tasted. Yeah, I could identify magical age by taste now.
Blackwell led us through an inner magical ward that looked like it was embedded in the stone walls — they glistened blue — rather than just coating the outer edges. The entranceway appeared to vault all the way to the roof of the tower. Oil paintings lined the wide, stone stairway that branched off from the main doors and curved up to the second floor. A massive magically suspended glass chandelier spiraled into the center of the room. I was already getting tired of being impressed by the evil asshole even before he opened a large set of thick wooden doors that were strapped width-ways by tarnished metal. He did so as a grandiose gesture that wasn't unfounded, because spread out beyond the doors was a museum's worth of magical items.
More chandeliers suspended by magic flared as Blackwell stepped into the gallery. The room was round, but every few feet an alcove — some curtained but none empty — jutted out like a tooth on a massive gear.
As I stepped into the room, I had a sense that we might not actually be in Scotland anymore — or, more specifically, that this room might just be a cog in a great machine that could start twisting and rolling at any second.
Yeah, it wasn't clear to me either.
I thought it was the magic that threw me. I'd become accustomed, though not comfortable, to the constant magic surrounding me in the dragon nexus. So much so that the presence of Kett, Kandy, Drake, and Blackwell beside me now was completely manageable. The extra shielding of my necklace helped, of course.
But Blackwell's treasures — totaling maybe hundreds of artifacts — were a different type of deluge. Each painting, statue, or piece of jewelry was carefully hung, placed on a pedestal, or grouped together on shelving units. Each one was protected by a micro ward, for lack of a better way to describe it.
I stepped toward the pedestal nearest me. Runes flared blue along the edges of it, perhaps in response to my magic. A small box crusted with emeralds and diamonds sat on a velvet cloth in a warded circle.
Gran also used runes on some of her wards. Specifically, on the complex wards that protected the entry to my bakery. They were complex because they had to read a person's magic and allow them to pass or not, then were doubly complex because they had to adapt quickly whenever I granted entry to an Adept.
Runes were usually used in the writings of sorcerers, as a way to anchor their spells or pass their knowledge along in written form.
Anyway, the point was that each of these artifacts emitted a hint of magic — and a hundred hints of magic, each subtly differently flavored, was a lot to absorb.
Kett stumbled when he entered the gallery beside me. It was the first unintentionally ungraceful thing I'd ever seen the vampire do. His cheeks infused with red. He was blushing like a human. I looked away from his dismay, completely uncomfortable with this sudden appearance of humanity. As always, I preferred to know what to expect with Kett. His distant coolness and his fugue-like states were uncomplicated and understandable. Now, here, he'd been as overwhelmed by the sensation of magic as I was. Somehow, perhaps because I tasted magic more adeptly than the vampire, I was able to hide my reaction better.
I eyed Blackwell, who was smiling at me like a proud father showing off a talented child. I scanned the room, noting the different flavors of magic that created the individual wards. Blackwell's treasure hunting was obviously a hereditary trait. Many of the wards were constructed not by him alone, but by Adepts who shared his underlying magic.
"It's an impressive collection, sorcerer," I said. "I assume it's one of your newest additions you want me to look at?"
Blackwell nodded, but before he could indicate the way, I stepped by him through the first rows of artifacts and moved toward the center of the gallery.
I could taste Blackwell's magic up ahead — the rich, earthy cabernet he emitted, not the day-old cheap wine of the fog spell. The difference was worth investigating but wasn't on today's to-do list.
Drake scanned the gallery almost systematically as he followed behind Kett and me. There was no hint of his ever-present grin on his face now. Dragons weren't big on this sort of accumulation of power. Blackwell was lucky that Pulou, the treasure keeper, wasn't with us. I wondered what rules the dragons followed. Could they just seize Blackwell's collection, or did they need cause to do so? And if they could, why hadn't they done so already?
Kandy stayed by the entrance with her arms tucked behind her back. Smart wolf. She couldn't see magic like Kett, Drake, and I could. I imagined she didn't want to tangle with any more of Blackwell's spells. She still had the silver burns that I'd seen on her skin in the guardroom. They were fading now, but she usually healed much more quickly.
Blackwell had a dark edge. If he decided to not be gentle while surrounded by these many magical objects, we'd definitely be more than bruised.
Something caught my attention, and I paused to stare at a curtained alcove to my far right. A few statues of various origins and materials stood between it and me, but I could clearly taste the pulse of magic hidden within the alcove — stronger than anything outside it. Blackwell's magic overlaying something...
"Here," Blackwell said. He rested a prompting hand on the back of my shoulder. I slowly turned my head to look him in the eye. His nose was even with my forehead. He didn't remove his hand... in fact, his smile widened.
I felt my own smile spreading deliberately across my own face in response. Then I did something I'd never done aggressively before. I reached out with my alchemist power and grabbed a bit of Blackwell's magic from where his hand rested on my shoulder. I gave it a tug.
My stomach churned as the taste of red wine flooded my mouth. But Blackwell's reaction was worth the nausea. He blanched and snatched his hand away from me.
My don't-touch-me point made, I raised an eyebrow and inclined my head to indicate I was ready to move forward.
Blackwell rubbed his thumb across his palm and looked at me thoughtfully. That little power play might have been a bad idea. I mean, he must already get that I wasn't just a witch with an affinity for dowsing, but maybe it wasn't a great idea to display unusual powers to a collector. I was already on Kett's shelf. I didn't need Blackwell's rapt attention any more than I already had it.
"Just here," Blackwell said as he stepped by me to draw my attention to a long wooden table in the very middle of the gallery. A circle was carved into the stone floor all around it. A straight-backed chair — also made out of solid, chunky wood — stood at one end, but this wasn't a dining table. It looked like a workstation. Or, rather, a place to collect bits and pieces of objects, jewels, and other knickknacks.
My fingers immediately itched to surf the magic of the broken items, to pluck out the glimmers that called to me and make them into a new whole.
Cool fingers brushed against the inner wrist of my left hand. Kett, cautioning me. I looked up from the table to find Blackwell watching me far too closely.
"Your magic is very intriguing, Jade Godfrey," the sorcerer said. "I do wish we were convening under better circumstances."
I opened my mouth to rip his head off over those 'circumstances,' but Kett brushed his cold fingers against my wrist again.
I clamped my mouth shut and clenched my hands. It was interesting that the sorcerer could see my magic, as I couldn't. I often wondered if I tasted more like my mother's witch magic or my father's dragon magic, or if I was some unique taste altogether.
I stepped over the carved circle that encircled the table. Within it, I caught a glimpse of inactive runes.
The vampire followed me over the ward line, but Drake didn't. I guessed that this inactive ward snapped into place if anything went wrong when Blackwell was inspecting the pieces he laid out on the table. By 'wrong,' I was thinking magical backlash that could potentially harm the collection. Or interact with it badly.
Again, I itched to touch it all, wondering what he did with the bits he deemed useless. In my hands, they could be made whole again. To him, they were probably garbage.
A wooden box, eight inches square, sat before the single chair at the end of the table. Blackwell circled to stand before it. He opened the lid and looked up at me expectantly.
I circled in the opposite direction until I stood by Blackwell, with Kett practically glued to my side.
A silver circle some six-and-a-half inches across was nestled in the chest. A different rune — or so I guessed, as it wasn't a language I could read — was carved every two inches or so into the silver band. What looked like rough-cut diamonds were embedded into the metal between these runes.
"Silver doesn't hold magic well," I said, thinking out loud.
"It's platinum," Blackwell said.
Ah, silly me.
"The diamonds are huge." The gemstones looked as if they'd been chiseled out of the earth and simply crammed into the platinum band by raw, brutal alchemy. I wasn't the only one who made magical objects, but there wasn't a long list of people who could do so. Actually, according to the dragons, I might be the only one currently living. Yeah, that wasn't overwhelming at all.
"It's a collar?"
"A circlet, I believe," Blackwell answered. There was something lurking in the smoothness of his tone that I didn't want to identify or even know about.
The circlet or headband didn't emit any obvious magic, but still I hesitated to touch it. It was almost as if it repelled me... or more like it was a small, malignant void just sitting pretty in its wooden box. A tiny black hole in the guise of a jeweled coronet.
"Will it harm me?"
"You tell me."
Asshole sorcerer.
"Have you touched it?"
Blackwell shuddered at this question. So that was a yes.
"I don't like it." I directed this statement to Kett, who was standing so close to me I could see his magic dancing in his skin. This display always reminded me how far the vampire was from human. He was like animated magic... or maybe the corpse of his previous self reanimated by magic, with its memories and thoughts intact. But 'reanimated' wasn't the perfect word...
"Yes," Kett answered. "I can see."
"Tell me what it is. What its function is, dowser," Blackwell said. "And I will set you on your sister's trail... if you're up for it."
I wasn't sure if he meant identifying the object or hunting Sienna, but I really wasn't up for either. Of course, I did a lot of things I didn't want to do these days.
I reached out and hovered my hands over the circlet. Nothing happened. Always a good start.
I lowered my hand, but at the last second, I chose to avoid touching the circlet. I pressed my finger into the velvet cushion in the very center of the platinum circle. Blackwell really had an unhealthy thing for plush fabrics with heavy naps.
I exhaled. Nothing happened.
I inhaled, about to lift my finger and actually touch the band, when a pulse of multicolored magic spread from carved rune to gem to carved rune all around the circlet.
Then the magic clamped down on my finger.
I screeched and yanked my hand back. The feeling instantly dissipated. The glow faded from the runes.
"What color was the magic?" Kett asked.
"All colors. You couldn't see?"
Kett nodded. He was just questioning his senses, I guessed.
"But I think the runes and gems color the spell," I said. "Not the... alchemist who created this."
"Created what?" Blackwell asked, eagerness edging his tone.
I was fairly certain Blackwell already had his suspicions. But instead of answering, I reached out and pressed my fingertips to the outside of the band, carefully not touching the runes, gems, or inside edge. I lifted the circlet from the box.
I gazed through the circle as if it were a window. The magic didn't try to grab me again. I hesitated to tell Blackwell any of what I was tasting, but I felt compelled by the bargain we'd struck in the courtyard.
"Hold it like this and it won't affect you," I said, turning to pass the circlet to the sorcerer.
He carefully placed his fingers next to mine until he held the full weight of the platinum band.
"It's deceptively light for something so terrible," I said.
"Yes?" Blackwell lifted the circlet and looked through it as I had. For a moment, the inner edge caught the reflection of the sorcerer's eyes, and I had to look away from the yawning chasm of greed I saw there.
"Do you have others?"
Blackwell hesitated, but then said, "No."
I looked at Kett, who always seemed to know when people spoke the truth — maybe he noted their heart rates — and the vampire nodded.
"What is it?" Blackwell actually seemed to have an excess of spit in his mouth.
I turned away, sweeping my gaze across the parts of the gallery I hadn't walked through. Drake was leaning against the stand of a smiling Buddha. I almost cautioned him from doing so, but then stopped myself. Obviously, the micro wards didn't bother the fledgling guardian. His deceptively casual stance was probably for Blackwell's benefit, because the fledgling was as unsettled as I was. Now that I was looking for it, I noted that a number of the alcoves had their curtains drawn, and a few pedestals were draped with red velvet. It bothered me that Blackwell didn't have his entire collection on display. I was going to have to walk away, to hand him more power, and take his clue in order to save Mory and stop Sienna.
And that was my ultimate responsibility.
I offered Drake a sad smile. He shrugged in response, bowed his head, and turned to walk back to Kandy at the front entrance.
"You understand that such a thing as this would not hold me, Drake, or Kett for very long. But we would be terribly angered by its use."
Blackwell nodded. I was fairly certain he was barely listening to me. He was just waiting for the punch line.
"It's a dampener," I finally said, not looking at Blackwell as I spoke. Kett stiffened — though I wouldn't have thought that possible — beside me. "A magical suppressor, as far as I can tell."
Blackwell expelled a breath. Then, smiling to himself, he carefully placed the circlet back in the chest.
"It drains magic?" Kett asked.
"No. Is that even possible? I think it just holds it in place."
"Rendering the Adept human," Blackwell said. I really didn't like the barely contained glee evident in his tone.
"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe it simply stops them from using their magic, which is why it wouldn't hold a vampire for long." Vampires were made of magic, or at least Kett was to my eyes. The dampener — placed on a vampire — would have nothing specific to grab a hold of and then restrict.
Blackwell turned to look at me. His hand was placed possessively on the lid of the wooden box. "And why is that, dowser?" the sorcerer asked.
I smiled. "That information isn't part of our deal, sorcerer."
Blackwell inclined his head.
"Now for your part," Kett said.
Blackwell nodded. "We'll need to go to the library."
"Lead the way," I said.
Blackwell tucked the wooden box underneath his arm and headed back the way we came.
I tried to not worry about the information I'd just traded. I tried to not worry about what was behind all the curtained alcoves. The treasures contained in this room no longer dazzled me. I just hoped that Blackwell was so careful and jealous that those treasures never left the confines of their wards and these stone walls.
Though, honestly, for a moment, I did think about pulling out my sword and destroying everything in my path. It was a silly but compelling thought.
Instead, I laced my fingers through Kett's cool ones and stared at the midpoint of Blackwell's back. The familiar peppermint taste of the vampire's magic filled my senses, clearing my sinuses of all the other magic in the gallery.
This wasn't the worst thing I was going to have to do to get through this Sienna debacle. But it saddened me to think about how Blackwell might use that circlet.
I freed myself from Kett's fingers and stepped from the gallery. Drake, Kandy, and Blackwell had already exited before Kett and me. Blackwell raised the ward over the door as I passed. Stupid sorcerer. I'd already tasted this magic, and it wouldn't hold me at bay anymore if I wanted in.
I'd be back, I promised myself. When and why and how, I didn't know. Except that the circlet didn't belong in Blackwell's collection.
Blackwell led us diagonally across the main entrance and then up a twist of circular stone stairs that were way too narrow and confining for my taste. McGrowly would have had to walk at an angle to get his shoulders through. Coming down was totally going to be worse.
As immediately as he sprang to mind, I determinedly avoided thinking about Desmond Charles Llewelyn, Lord and Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack. I hadn't even heard his voice in the last three and a half months, because I hadn't called him. I didn't like the way the life debt bond I owed him compelled our so-called relationship. And magic or no magic, I didn't need any of it interfering with finding Mory and stopping Sienna.
Instead of thinking of my would-be shapeshifter lover, I imagined how Kett would be full of information about the narrow stairs making it easier to defend the castle. Forcing intruders into single file would mean that a single sorcerer on the top landing could pick them off one by one. But would Adepts who could scale walls or tear down doors ever be stupid enough to get trapped like this? Castle living was so not for me.
Neither was the library. It smelled musty and dusty and like moldy leaves. By the gasp that emanated from the vampire, I gathered that Kett felt the complete opposite.
I scanned the bookshelves that stood double my height around the edges of the walls and within curtained alcoves. Replace the pedestals with shoulder-height lengths of shelving and the red velvet curtains with royal blue, and this room was a duplicate of the gallery below. Except for the fireplace and seating area on the far curved wall. And the obviously magical picture-framed window overlooking the wide, moonlit river below.
Blackwell's reading nook... how cute. The fireplace didn't seem to have a proper chimney or vent — more magical showing off. I was beginning to understand Gran's conservatism when it came to magic. Throwing it around was flashy and wasteful.
"Your sister Sienna took — stole — two items when we parted ways in the caves," Blackwell said as he made a beeline for the reading area. "I would like them back."
"What, pray tell?" Yeah, I got he was Scottish, not English, but I wasn't above mocking him.
Blackwell continued forward without answering, which was okay. I was accustomed to being ignored by my elders when I was being mouthy.
The stone floor was covered by a thick Persian rug in front of the fireplace, which blazed to life as Blackwell passed by it. The rug was incongruent with the Victorian-looking love seat and chair, and I avoided stepping on it.
Kett began listing toward the bookshelves as we passed by. I kicked him in the calf with a back flick of my foot and he righted himself.
Blackwell stepped into the alcove positioned to the right of the magical window, and I turned to look at the room I'd just passed through.
Kandy, once again, stayed by the door. Her arms were crossed and her face grim. Unhappy wolf. Yeah, me too.
Drake peered at the fire for a moment — dragons loved watching magic in action — but he quickly grew bored and paced around looking at the books.
Blackwell stepped back out from the alcove with a leather-bound book in hand. He passed it to me and then waited expectantly.
Great. Another test, was it?
I sighed. The book's black leather binding looked new. The title was embossed in gold along the spine but not on the front cover. _The Book of Demon History on Earth_.
"Catchy title," I said.
I flipped the book open. It was filled with pages and pages of cramped, black-inked handwriting that — by firelight, anyway — was incomprehensible. I flipped a few more pages. The author had also included sketches of demons, symbols — runes, I guessed — and weapons. The chapters were chronological by date and seemed to begin in the fourteenth century.
"I don't get it," I said. "Its magic is dim. This isn't a book of power."
"The book is not the original, of course," Blackwell said. He was back to watching me intently. Normally that would bother me — I wasn't some science experiment — except this time I knew he was waiting for me to piece something together.
"Sienna stole the original? Why would —"
I stopped flipping. I recognized the wickedly curved knife depicted on the page I now held open. It was the blade that Sienna had used to murder Jeremy.
"You hire a duplicator?" Kett asked. Blackwell intrigued Kett far more than I liked. But then, I wasn't the vampire's keeper. In fact, I really hoped to never meet his keeper.
"Seems prudent," Blackwell answered.
As I understood it, Kett was turned, not born, which meant that some other vampire's blood had animated his corpse. And blood heeded blood. Yep, Kett's master would be a terrifying being, who the vampire would have to obey in all things. At least that was what the limited number of books on vampires that I could find in the dragon nexus said.
"Duplication," I said. "A duplicator." Yeah, I was a bit behind.
"Yes," Blackwell said.
"But he or she cannot duplicate the magic within the pages."
"No."
"Because magic can't be created or destroyed," I said. "So the duplicator borrows from the original?"
"A small amount," Blackwell answered. "Not enough to diminish the original —"
Kett snorted. I'd never heard him make such an indelicate noise.
Blackwell shut his mouth and grimaced.
"What was the second item?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Actually, it was the first." Blackwell tapped the sketch I'd recognized.
The knife. But did Sienna still have it? It had been in Mory's hands the last I saw it — covered in Jeremy's blood. But Sienna had Mory.
Kandy had managed to save my mother, who'd been magically depleted from holding the demon at bay, but not Mory. The werewolf had protected the more vulnerable, as she should have, but lost the necromancer and the knife. I'd have to call Scarlett to confirm that Mory hadn't dropped the knife after I dragged the demon through the portal. It wasn't something I had reason to ask before. Unless Kandy knew.
"How is any of this supposed to help me find Sienna? Why would she want this book in the first place? She's not a sorcerer."
"It's not that kind of book. It's merely information. Some would call these accounts fairy tales."
"Yeah, I know all about Adept bedtime stories coming true. I'm still waiting on the elves to show."
"Really?" Blackwell asked, very interested in this possibility.
"No, sorcerer. That was sarcasm. So this helps me how?"
"The book is a duplicate," Kett prompted me, but not unkindly.
"So what?" I asked. They gave me a minute. "You think I can track the original with this one. What are you smoking?"
Blackwell furrowed his brow. He was as unhip as the vampire when it came to slang.
"Fine. Even if I could do that, I'd have to be near the other book, and if I was that close, I'd taste Sienna's magic first. You know, with all the blood magic and mayhem in her veins."
Blackwell shrugged. "I have no idea why your sister wanted the book or what she plans on doing with it. Other than the obvious."
"It's a history of demons. It's not like they're walking the earth. They've been vanquished back to their own..." I looked to Kett, hit with a completely irrational and impossible realization. "Mory..." If Sienna had stolen Mory's necromancy powers, would she think she was capable of raising vanquished demons?
The vampire tilted his head thoughtfully. He liked to hedge his bets, which was fine by me. One of us had to be rational when it came to Sienna, and it wasn't going to be me.
My sister already had a taste for manipulating the dead. She'd used Hudson's corpse — my would-be boyfriend and Kandy's pack mate — to try to kill Kett six months ago. But demons, according to my father, Yazi, came from another dimension and dissolved into ash when vanquished. Necromancers needed a dead body in order to reanimate it, didn't they?
I glanced back at the entry that accompanied the picture of the sacrificial knife. "Dorset Street. London. 1888."
"Three demons," Blackwell said. "Summoned by an ancestor of mine. He died in the attempt. I believe the humans attributed his sacrifice to their Jack the Ripper myth."
'Sacrifice' was the completely wrong word to use for murder. Why was I just standing here chatting with this asshole? Right, Mory.
"She's not that powerful," I said to Kett. "She was only able to raise that demon in the Sea Lion Caves, because he" — I spat the word in Blackwell's direction — "laid the spell. With this... she'd be combining completely different types of magic. It's impossible, isn't it?"
Kett, who was reading the entry over my shoulder, didn't answer. I couldn't bring myself to try to focus on the cramped writing. My mind was reeling, actually attempting to not put the pieces of the Sienna puzzle together.
My stomach churned but I forced myself to speak the fear growing there. "But we know what she does to become more powerful."
"I imagine there are a few sorcerers in London," Kett said, but to Blackwell not me.
"Yes," Blackwell answered. "Why?"
"They're in danger," I said. "She's going to need the power of a sorcerer to raise a demon."
"Please," Blackwell said, actually chortling.
"My sister kills the Adept for their power," I said, grinding the words between my teeth.
"Fleeting power, if she ever —"
"Her specialty, before she went dark, was binding magic."
Blackwell blanched. "She's figured out how to steal, then retain and utilize different types of magic?"
"Yes. I'm surprised she hasn't come back for you."
Blackwell jutted his chin at me, about to protest, but I cut him off.
"She currently has her hands on a necromancer —"
"Then the necromancer is dead," Blackwell said. His blunt assessment cut into the bubble of hope I was holding for Mory. "She'll need a powerful sorcerer if she's trying to do as you suspect. Not that I could even fathom it being possible to summon vanquished demons even with the power of a necromancer combined with a sorcerer. Not only would the magic be incompatible, but vanquished demons simply no longer exist in this world."
"Can you give us a name?" Kett asked.
"Yes." Blackwell turned away to a writing desk in the corner by the alcove and put pen to parchment.
The power of a sorcerer, a necromancer, and a sacrificial knife all in Sienna's hands. Plus the location of a successful demon summoning...
"My sister is trying to raise vanquished demons," I said. Saying it out loud didn't make it any less ridiculous or unthinkable. Unfortunately, it also didn't make it untrue.
"So it would seem," Kett said.
"You don't have to be so pleased about it," I muttered, trying to find my protective layer of snark even as my heart clenched, then began to race. "Three vanquished demons."
"Yes," Kett said. His smile widened and red rolled across his ice-blue eyes. "And you with a pretty new sword to break in." His eyes flicked to the hilt of my katana slung behind and sitting slightly above my right shoulder.
Yeah, great. Hanging with immortal and often-bored beings was so going to be the death of me.
# 5
Southern Europe, or maybe it was properly called 'Western Europe,' was the territory of the guardian Suanmi, aka the fire breather, aka Drake's actual guardian. Using a portal at a grid point seemed innocuous enough that it wouldn't get Pulou's attention. Using that same portal to try to get into London via another portal almost exclusively used by Suanmi was a very stupid idea.
I had planned to return to the nexus immediately after confronting Blackwell, and from there formulate a plan — based on whatever info I'd managed to get from the sorcerer — to confront Sienna. Now, knowing my sister might be in London with Mory, I felt I needed to press on, plan or no plan. But my twenty-four-hour pass was so going to run out, like in just over twelve hours.
Thankfully, they don't check passports between Scotland and England. Unfortunately, that meant being confined in a vehicle with three other powerful Adepts for seven hours, not including bathroom breaks. I wasn't sure my dowser senses could take it, but our swords would be impossible to conceal on a plane and rather obvious on a train. The idea of Kett confined to a plane forty thousand feet in the air was a whole other level of concern, though he was currently in Scotland and had previously been in Vancouver, so he must fly. Maybe he had access to a private jet exclusively used by vampires.
"We could buy some yoga mats," I said to Kandy as we walked to the edge of the front lawn of Blackness Castle. Kett had disappeared into the dark night, and I could only guess that Blackwell was watching us from another magical window higher up in the central tower.
"Things are super weird if you're jonesing for yoga rather than chocolate," the green-haired werewolf said.
"No, we could wrap our swords —"
"I'm not wrapping my sword in a yoga mat," Drake interrupted. He was as affronted by this suggestion as any easily distractible thirteen-year-old could be.
"Does he even know what yoga is?" Kandy mock whispered.
"Yeah," I said. "Eastern philosophy is highly regarded in dragon training. No mats, though."
I really didn't like standing with my back to Blackness Castle. I really hoped I had guessed correctly that Blackwell couldn't cast anything nasty at us through his own wards. The sorcerer had led us out of the castle without a word, but he was going to be totally pissed when he examined the mangled wards at the front gates.
Drake was balancing on the low stone wall while Kandy and I waited for the vampire to return. That was assuming he was going to return promptly... I never really knew with him. He might fall into one of his fugue states.
"I don't like leaving it like this, but I'm glad to be out of there," Kandy said.
"Same here."
"He is nothing," Drake said. "A speck of darkness in a beautiful world." The fledgling guardian, steady as the wall itself, was practicing one-legged crane kicks now.
"That's very dragon of you, Drake," I said.
The thirteen-year-old grinned at me. "Your cares are interesting to me, warrior's daughter. I'm looking forward to the demons."
"The point is to stop Sienna from raising them. If raising them is even possible in the first place."
Drake shrugged, then pivoted to practice his kicks leading with the opposite leg.
"He doesn't sound like any thirteen-year-old I've ever known," Kandy said. She was watching Drake intently.
"I'm not sure he's ever been around any other fledglings. He's the youngest dragon I've ever seen. I don't think they procreate much." Plus, Drake's mentor — Chi Wen the far seer — was ancient. As in, nine-hundred-plus-years old. The old Asian man loved to smile but he wasn't big on words, play, or the latest trends. I gathered his seer power was rather all consuming.
Kandy's eyes flared green and she darted forward. I had my knife in my hand before I realized what the wolf was doing. She silently aimed a spin kick to the back of Drake's right knee. A breath before she made contact, Drake bounded into the air, tucking both legs up and away from Kandy's blow. Then, twisting in the air, he grabbed her still-outthrust leg and flipped the werewolf — actually, spun her sideways like an airborne top — onto her back on the grass.
I didn't think Drake had access to any of those seer powers yet. But man, sometimes he moved like he did.
The air whooshed out of Kandy's lungs.
"Ha, wolf," Drake said. "I heard you moving. You must learn more stealth."
Bad thing to say to a werewolf. And, judging by his grin, completely intentional on Drake's part.
Kandy snarled and rolled forward to crouch on the balls of her feet. Silent and deadly... just not to the fledgling guardian.
"There's no point, Kandy," I said. "You can't get the upper hand when he's in the zone. Try next time he's eating."
Completely ignoring me, the werewolf launched herself at the fledgling. They flew backward onto the grass beyond the wall, moving, swiping, and kicking in a blur.
Kett pulled up in a luxury silver SUV. Mercedes, maybe. I wasn't big on cars, but I could identify an OPI nail polish color in a single glance.
"Be careful with the werewolf," I yelled over my shoulder at Drake. Kandy would be pissed at me for cautioning Drake, but werewolves weren't immortal — unlike the fledgling guardian's regular wrestling partners. I wandered over to the passenger side of the SUV and climbed in beside Kett. "What took you so long?"
"He wards his garage. Then I had to choose one," the vampire replied mildly. His gaze was on the blurred tussle on the lawn.
"I don't like just leaving," I said. "Stealing an SUV isn't enough."
"I have taken the vehicle because it will be fortified against magic, and will have a better chance of getting us to London without breaking down," Kett replied.
Oh, okay. I was clearly the only one of us still lusting for Blackwell's blood. The fact that the other person in this conversation was a blood-lusting vampire didn't reflect well on my mindset.
"You will have many years to return," Kett continued, turning to regard me in the darkness of the SUV. "You will never need to regret time, alchemist."
"That's verging on philosophical for you."
"Not at all. It is merely a statement of fact."
"Fine. Blackwell can wait. Sienna... or specifically, Mory can't... if..."
"The fledgling necromancer is alive. She wears your necklace. You have now forced me to repeat myself."
"Well, it's bound to happen once every hundred years or so," I snarked. Kett didn't laugh but that wasn't unusual. "Still, Sienna might have found a way —"
"Eventually, yes. But your sister is busy. Hiding from the witches and the shapeshifters is no easy task. She is lucky that the Adept are so secretive. I imagine no one has even thought to inform the sorcerers of London to be on watch."
The SUV dipped as Drake climbed into the back seat behind Kett. "I like the wolf," he declared.
Kandy climbed into the back seat beside Drake, behind me. Her eyes were still blazing with the green of her shifter magic.
"Of course you do," I replied to Drake. "She wishes she was thirteen too." The fledgling and werewolf were covered in mud and had mats of grass in their hair. I was rather gleeful about what this mess would do to the interior of Blackwell's pristine vehicle.
"I hated being thirteen," Kandy said, and then didn't bother to explain further. The werewolf had retrieved a bag from somewhere and was digging through it for a change of clothes. "We're going to need some food."
Kett scoffed and put the SUV into gear.
"I'm surprised you're coming with us, vampire," Kandy continued. "The castle seemed like your idea of Disneyland."
Kett didn't bother answering as he turned the vehicle toward the main road.
"I've been to Disneyland," Drake declared. "It wasn't all that."
"You have not been to Disneyland," Kandy said.
"Haoxin took me, last year. Right after she ascended. That way, Suanmi would have a more difficult time punishing her."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Haoxin was the cute-as-a-button, swathed-in-silk guardian of North America. She was also the guardian nearest to Drake in age, if a hundred-year spread counted as near.
"Listen, wolf," Drake said, channeling the tone of the far seer, "and you will hear many —"
Kandy punched Drake in the gut, then groaned while shaking out her hand. Drake started giggling.
I tuned them out.
The dashboard clock declared the time to be 2:23. It was pitch dark, and I wondered if the no-driving-at-night-with-the-interior-lights-on applied to vampires. Or if that was just for the oncoming traffic. Either way, I was glad for any feeble excuse to not read Blackwell's _Book of Demon History_. Though not as glad as for whatever cellphone package the witch, Amber, had prepaid on my new phone. I had signal. So I made some calls. Mom and Gran first. They'd want an update, and someone needed to know we were heading into London.
Traveling with Drake in an SUV was difficult. I figured out pretty quickly that the thirteen-year-old was unaccustomed to being confined and motionless for long periods of time.
Even with Kett speeding like a demon between towns, we weren't going to get to London very quickly. The vampire didn't seem to have an issue with driving on the left side of the road. 'Speeding like a demon...' Where did that phrase even come from? Were demons particularly speedy? And what human would survive an encounter with one and live to coin the phrase?
Food, and more wrestling sessions with Kandy at each gas station we stopped at, finally lulled Drake to sleep. He wanted to spar with me, but I was fairly certain that swords would attract way too much attention. Getting a too-large, bright green hoodie onto Drake the first time we stopped was enough of a battle that I worried the station attendant might start texting or tweeting about us. The hoodie covered his laced leather vest, if not the pants. I opted for a navy hoodie emblazoned with a red plaid lion rampant — that was according to Kett on the 'rampant' part. Drake's hoodie had the image of a sword in place of the 'T' in 'SCOTLAND' printed across the chest, and I was fairly certain that was the only reason he eventually agreed to wear it.
The sun rose, though we were clearly driving into an overcast day, and I begrudgingly hauled out the demon history book. Kandy and Drake were snoozing in the back. Kett donned dark sunglasses despite the fact that the SUV windows were tinted.
"We have no idea if we've even guessed correctly," I muttered as I read through the entry that accompanied the sketch of the sacrificial knife. Kandy and Scarlett had confirmed that the knife had been in Sienna's hands the last time they saw it. "She could be in Bora Bora. And if Mory's... alive... how did Sienna get her to London?"
"It's a logical leap," Kett answered. "She had the knife and a necromancer. Why steal the book? Out of everything in Blackwell's collection, why steal that book unless she intended to do something with it?"
"Sienna doesn't think things like this through ahead of time," I said. "Maybe she was just borrowing the book to read it, and then got her hands on the knife. Do demons even have shades or ghosts? Can Mory communicate with a being destroyed over a hundred and twenty-five years ago?"
"With the sacrificial knife to anchor the magic, and the power of a sorcerer drained... perhaps," Kett answered.
I'd tried the phone numbers Blackwell had given us — three names in total that he deemed powerful enough to fulfill Sienna's requirements — but hadn't gotten answers or voice mails. Of course, it was rather early in the morning.
"So, the summoning," I said, referencing the book. "According to this story —"
"Chronicle."
"Fine, chronicle. The summoning took place in the White Chapel district."
"Similar timing to when the Jack the Ripper killers hunted there — perfect cover for the sorcerer."
"Blackwell's ancestor. Evil runs in the family."
Kett didn't respond. His definition of evil was far different from mine. In fact, I wasn't sure he bothered to define such things anymore.
"Jesus, the stupid sorcerer who wrote this included the incantation."
"Even if he uncovered an accurate accounting, the exact words have little meaning."
"Still. It's a focal point."
Kett shrugged. Yeah, it definitely irked me that immortal beings rarely seemed concerned when it came to magic.
"Killers?" I asked, backtracking to his previous comment. "Why say killers?"
"At least three of the murders were a rogue vampire who took glee in not hiding his kills. It was reckless and undignified."
"Reckless because it drew your attention?"
Kett smiled but didn't answer. I knew he was referred to as 'the executioner.' I knew he investigated — or, rather, judged — vampire crimes, which were pretty much limited to the don't-be-messy-with-food classification. What I didn't know was how old Kett was and how long he'd been the executioner for the Conclave — the governing body of the vampires. He was cagey about his age like some guys were about how many people they'd slept with, as if the number was so large it might scare off any serious relationship potential. For the human male, not the vampire. I had no idea why the vampire shared what and when he did.
"How many people did Jack the Ripper kill?" I asked.
"Eleven if you count them all. Five are usually agreed upon."
"But three were vampire kills?"
"Yes."
"And at least one..." — I referenced the book that sat open on my lap — "... on November 9, 1888, was the sorcerer's doing."
"According to a book written by sorcerers."
"Right."
"There was also the human the authorities referred to as the Torso Killer, who was active at the same time as the Ripper."
"Oh my God, stop talking. I don't need to know."
Kett laughed, a sound that was becoming a more regular occurrence for the vampire. Maybe I was humanizing him... and maybe that thought was a slippery slope.
"November 9th," I said. "What day is today?"
"The morning of the eighth."
"Would the connection — if any of this is actually possible — be stronger on the anniversary?"
Kett shrugged, but even before he did so, I knew I was asking the wrong questions. "Whether or not this can be done doesn't matter."
"No."
Because all that mattered was what Sienna wanted to attempt and what she would do to make her desires come true. It was a game. An accumulation of power, but to no end. Just for fun. Sienna wasn't in it for the long term. She never had been.
"She expects to be caught."
"Of course," Kett answered, never taking his eyes off the highway in front of us. As the morning dawned and we had neared the border of England, the traffic had increased. Kett was only able to speed like a half-demon now, which was ironic for multiple reasons I didn't have the brainpower to address at the moment. Such as, supposedly vampires had been created from demons, "by God," according to Kett. Yeah, I was still full-on ignoring that tidbit.
"Why do it then? Why do any of it?"
"To see what she can do." Kett's cool but matter-of-fact statement actually made me shiver.
"What she can destroy."
"Or who." Kett turned and looked at me then. I couldn't see his eyes through his sunglasses.
"She loves... loved me," I whispered. The words sounded weak and hollow coming from my mouth.
"Perhaps," Kett said. He returned his attention to driving.
I felt like crying, but I forced the feeling into the dark place in my heart where I stored all things Sienna now. I couldn't even remember the sound of her laugh, or the secrets we'd whispered to each other, or the life we'd shared. It was all mixed into the remembrance of the gritty, sour taste of her corrupted magic, and the black veins that etched her face.
I took comfort in the taste of the magic of the trio that surrounded me, closed the book and my eyes, and tried to sleep.
I'd never been to London, England. Actually, I'd never been out of North America. As we hit the traffic of the city, the crazily narrow streets, and the confusing street signs, I instantly wished I was home, cupcake in hand and trinket in the making.
London was insanely large. True, the biggest city I'd ever been to was Los Angeles, and that sprawled for miles. But London was huge and full — full of people, buildings, overpasses and roundabouts, and shops. Lots of shops.
This... this was utter chaos. In a human way, though — not in a blood-and-magical-mayhem way. That was entirely different, and actually — sickeningly — not as overwhelming as it once had been.
Drake, of course, was unimpressed. It was his second visit after all.
I'd pulled out the iPad and hot-spotted it to my phone at Kett's request. Google Maps guided us effortlessly — avoiding one-way streets but not the bumper-to-bumper — into the heart of London.
At least that's what it looked like on the map. I actually had no idea where we were.
"Was that... was that London Bridge?" I asked.
"We're looking for Waterloo," Kett answered.
"What? No. I mean, I didn't know it was an actual thing... you... know..." I shut my mouth and pointed the way to Waterloo Bridge.
We crossed the bridge and miraculously didn't get caught endlessly in the traffic circle on the other side. I was seriously glad that Kett was driving.
Without further direction from me, the vampire made a left and then two right turns. He slowed the SUV as we came up to a grand building, stone-tiled in cream. It ran the length — and, I assumed, width — of the city block, and was constructed with columns and everything.
"Um, the sorcerer we're looking for lives in a palace?" I asked.
"It's a university. A college actually," Kett answered. "Blackwell was unsure of where his colleague resides, but you should be able to find him before class."
"The great and powerful sorcerer we have to protect from Sienna is a student?"
"A professor in biomedical sciences."
Okay, I was aware that I was only sounding more and more stupid every time I opened my mouth, but I was baffled by the idea of a sorcerer also being a professor. Call me prejudiced, I guess. I stared at Kett.
He raised a pale eyebrow at me. "Forensic analytical sciences," he elaborated. "He and I have met previously. It's best if you go on alone."
Kandy chortled in the back seat. All vampires had a long list of enemies. I wasn't sure they bothered to keep any other lists, actually.
"I'm sorry. You want me to waltz into a massive college, find some sorcerer, and convince him that a black witch might show up and try to drain him? Why the hell should he believe me?"
Kett smiled. "Use Blackwell's name. And Jade, the sorcerer will get one look at you and buy anything you're selling."
Kandy snorted and climbed out of the SUV. The noise of the city filled and rebounded around the cab. I'd never known I'd be so sensitive to such things.
"I'll need to announce our presence in the city to the Conclave elder who resides here in London," Kett said. "The fledgling guardian may come with me."
"Excuse me?" I asked. "I might be dim but I'm not that stupid. Drake doesn't need to be in on any elder vampire meetings —"
"As you wish." Kett turned away from me to stare out the front windshield, and I briefly thought I might have hurt his feelings... like he had feelings.
"College professor sounds boring," Drake said. "Vampire elder sounds much more interesting."
"Exactly," I said. "Get out."
Drake laughed and climbed out of the SUV.
"I guess we'll have to leave our swords here," I murmured. I hesitated as Drake stepped away, and wondered if I should attempt to repair the obvious breach between Kett and me.
"You'll have your knife... as well as your werewolf and your dragon."
Yeah, Kett was pissed, but what the hell? I was already in so much trouble — or so I imagined — because Drake was tagging along with me in the first place. I didn't need to ask for more. I maybe had minutes left on my twenty-four-hour pass. Even though time moved differently in the nexus, Branson was sure to notice when Drake and I didn't show up for training. I just hoped the sword master went to my father, Yazi, with news of our escapade, because I really didn't want to face Suanmi.
"What does he..." — I consulted Blackwell's list — "... what does Edmonds look like?"
"You'll taste his magic before you see him."
"Fine." I climbed out of the SUV. Kett pulled away before I'd managed to slam the door shut — yeah, like the brat I was. If I'd been human, that maneuver might have broken my wrist. Pissy vampire. I wasn't accustomed to him being quite so volatile.
Kandy turned around from surveying the building and campus. "King's College has one of the largest zebrafish facilities in the world," she said. "This is the Waterloo Campus, but they have a bunch of campuses in London."
I stared at her.
"You're not the only one with a web browser on her phone," Kandy said with a grin.
"Let's go there first," Drake said. "I've never seen a zebrafish."
This was just a grand vacation for everyone but me... and the pissy vampire. Kett didn't seem to like London at all, because there was no way I was capable of rousing his iciness that much on my own. If I had any sense at all, that should have scared the hell out of me.
# 6
"Professor Edmonds?" I rapped my knuckles lightly on the partially open door that helpfully bore a plaque reading 'T.R. Edmonds.' Of course, as Kett had snottily suggested, I'd tasted the sorcerer's magic all the way from the stairwell to the third floor.
A man about forty-five years old looked up from his computer and squinted at me through round tortoiseshell glasses. His wool jacket actually had suede elbow patches.
"Yes? What can I..." Edmonds removed his reading glasses to get a better look at me, but it wasn't my blond curls or ample assets that snagged this extra attention. Nope, the sorcerer had eyes only for my magic.
Dropping all the professor pretense, Edmonds stared at me — open mouth and everything — and then smiled as if I was a perfectly wrapped birthday present. And maybe I was. Just not for him.
Impatient as always, Drake stepped around me and into the small office, which was barely large enough to contain a sofa in one corner and a desk with two guest chairs in the other.
Edmonds lost the smile. He rose almost reverently and stared at Drake. His hands were palms down, flat on his desk. His shoulders slumped slightly forward. Yeah, Drake was the eighth wonder of the world.
Sure the fledgling's magic — all honeyed, salted almonds and steamed milk — was impressive. But once you'd laid eyes on a full guardian like my father Yazi, or the treasure keeper Pulou, it was easier to take Drake's magic in stride.
Kandy gave me a shove with her shoulder to nudge me out of the way of the door, which she then closed behind her.
Edmonds tore his eyes away from Drake, who was rather rudely ignoring the professor to examine the bookcase, then looked back at the werewolf and me. He reached for something on his desk that looked like a carved dowel of dark wood, but before he could close his fingers over it, Drake was holding it.
"Oh!" Drake said. "A wand!"
Edmonds stumbled away from his desk. He hit the back of his head against one of the diplomas hanging behind him, hard enough to crack the glass and dislodge it from its hanger.
Drake — once again moving too quickly to track — caught the picture before it hit the floor.
Edmonds now began gasping like he might be having a stroke.
"Drake," I cried. "Stop doing that!"
"What? Being nice?"
"Snatching things out of the air."
"Oh, sorry." Drake looked at Edmonds, who now seemed calm enough to at least take air into his lungs. "Sorry, sorcerer."
Drake placed the diploma and the wooden dowel back on the desk. Then with over-exaggerated slowness, he walked around and back to my side.
Kandy snickered. I sighed.
"I apologize, professor," I said. "We didn't mean to startle you."
"No. No. I — I —" Edmonds loosened his bow tie.
I guessed the professor getup and gig were cover. Too bad Edmonds didn't seem to have the Indiana Jones alter ego to pull it off.
"My name is Jade Godfrey. These are my friends, Kandy and Drake."
Edmonds nodded but once again fell into staring at Drake. I wondered if I ever looked that... well, that moronic when I saw or tasted new magic.
"Blackwell gave us —"
Edmonds darted for the dowel. Runes carved along it flared at his touch. Drake shifted, probably to snatch the wand again, but I simply held my hand forward, palm facing the sorcerer.
"We're only here to ask you some questions about a witch, my sister Sienna, who we believe is in London."
Edmonds narrowed his light brown eyes at me. More magic bloomed in the wand. It was a fairly cool way to harness his sorcerer powers, but kind of silly looking.
"Probably not a good idea to grab the wand again," I said, clearly and deliberately addressing Drake. "It might sting you."
Drake tilted his head to look at the wand for a second. "I doubt it."
The fledgling guardian's nonchalance didn't help Edmonds calm down.
"We aren't here from Blackwell —"
"And you aren't a witch," Edmonds said. He wasn't completely sure where to point the wand. Three of us against one runed stick. Even if he could cast three spells at once — which I seriously doubted — he wouldn't even make it to the door of his narrow office without one of us laying hands on him. Unless he managed to kill us. Dragons were as immortal as a being could get — even more so than vampires in my mind. If it wasn't for Drake's parents being dead, and the obvious limp that kept Branson as a trainer rather than a guardian, I would have thought them to be utterly indestructible. I, however, was a half-witch, and therefore not immortal at all.
"Whether I'm a witch —"
"You said you were looking for a witch, your sister. Therefore you'd have to be a witch, but your magic isn't like any witch I've ever known."
"I have a rare dowsing ability."
"You're one of Blackwell's collectors." Edmonds spat the other sorcerer's name like he didn't even want the memory of saying it in his mouth.
"I'm not," I replied as calmly as possible, though being thought of as Blackwell's chattel rankled me. "I'm simply Jade Godfrey, granddaughter of Pearl, chair of the Convocation. I bake cupcakes for a living."
This admission only deepened Edmonds' frown. "I'm not the Adept liaison in London."
"We have questions and perhaps a caution, nothing more. Our presence in the city will be brief, hopefully, and another of our group is making sure we're welcome." At least, I really hoped that was what Kett was doing.
Edmonds lowered the wand and sat. He kept it in hand, though. He straightened his bow tie and smoothed his hair, which was starting to recede. "Blackwell," he said, "is not a name to evoke lightly."
"You give the sorcerer far too much power with your deference," Drake said. His gruff tone was so unlike a thirteen-year-old that I had to stifle a laugh. Kandy snorted.
The sorcerer shook his head at our indifference. "He's an outlier, as his family has always been. But more so for the last decade."
"And yet," I said, "when asked to provide a list of sorcerers powerful enough to draw the attention of a blood magic-crazed witch, he gave yours at the top of a list of three."
Edmonds nodded but didn't seem to soften on Blackwell. Which was fine with me, as I certainly wasn't a fan either. "This witch is your sister?"
"Yes."
"My condolences. Witches have a more difficult time holding the blood lust at bay. Sorcerers are naturally distanced from its consuming effects." Edmonds thoughtfully rolled the wand beneath his fingers on the desk.
"That makes sense," I said.
Edmonds inclined his head. He was still having a difficult time keeping his eyes from Drake, who'd pulled some books off the shelf and seemed to be glaring at the words rather than reading them.
I sat in one of the two guest chairs. Kandy leaned against the door, always the protector.
I could tell that Edmonds desperately wanted to ask about Drake but wasn't going to. All of the Adept were secretive, which was probably a safe default position when outnumbered by human kind, like a million to one. But also, most Adept seemed to think that asking for information and receiving it put them under an obligation. Thankfully, I'd decided that was an antiquated belief — when it suited me.
I pulled the leather-bound book of demon history out of my satchel.
Edmonds' eyes lit up as I placed the book before him on the desk. "Not the original, I'm afraid," I said.
"Ah, that is a shame."
I opened the book to the entry that chronicled the demon rising in London in 1888. "Professor, have you been visited by a witch — she might call herself Valencia — in the last three months?"
Edmonds stilled. The hand not toying with the wand was already halfway across the desk. He wanted to touch the book. He probably also wanted to know what this visit was all about, but he didn't want to give up any information if he could get around it. As I was quickly figuring out, and as Gran had always cautioned me, this was typical sorcerer behavior.
"This witch is interested in demon history?" he asked.
I smiled. Edmonds wanted more information before giving any himself, but I wasn't in the mood for Adept games. The only times I really liked to play were on the dance floor, in my bakery, and in bed. Unfortunately for me, none of those locations were likely to be anywhere in my immediate future.
I leaned forward. My necklace dangled slightly away from my chest in this position, and it immediately caught Edmonds' attention. "I'm not here to trade information or bargain for power," I said, keeping my tone even and polite. "I would prefer to be in my bakery making cupcakes in Vancouver, BC, Canada. Instead, I'm in England hunting my sister, who is killing Adept to drain and harness their powers. She has kidnapped, and most likely killed, a young girl. A necromancer who was under my protection. It is my understanding that she has this original book and this knife..." — I tapped the sketch of the weapon in the book — "... in her possession. Now you know everything I know. Have you seen or spoken to my sister?"
"No," Edmonds answered in a rush of air. "I apologize. I just... you..." He glanced at Drake, who was now sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor and rapidly flipping the pages of a book on his lap. "You startled me and..."
"Let's move past that."
Edmonds nodded. I pushed the book toward him. He touched its edges carefully, then rotated it so the text was right side up for him.
"You think because she has the knife and the book that she is interested in this demon summoning?" The sorcerer reached for his glasses and started to read the pages I'd indicated.
"It's the only clue right now," I answered. "I could be wrong. I often am."
"As we all are."
"Why can't I read this?" Drake asked, slapping the book he'd been glaring at closed with a boom.
"It's in German," Edmonds answered, unruffled by the outburst.
"I should be able to read German," Drake declared.
"Obviously not," Kandy said with a smirk.
Drake narrowed his eyes at the green-haired werewolf. Then, apparently up for the challenge, he reopened the book.
Edmonds flipped a page of the demon history to confirm he'd finished the entry, then flipped back to read it a second time. "I've heard of this story," he said. "Supposedly the unfortunate murdered woman was one of Jack the Ripper's victims."
"Supposedly?"
"Most sorcerers aren't so careless with a victim's remains. My understanding is that the Ripper murder of November 9th was particularly brutal. The crime... unnecessarily violent."
"To raise three demons?"
"To supposedly raise three..." — he referenced the book — "... of the lesser fallen. The author of this history uses Christian classification."
"Because he believed that demons were born from fallen angels."
"Or are the fallen angels themselves."
"That belief doesn't negate the possibility that three demons rose from a sacrifice performed with that knife. A knife now in the possession of my sister."
"Witches do not usually —"
"She's gotten a taste for it."
Edmonds fell silent. Kandy pulled out her phone and started texting. Drake was attempting to sound out words with a German accent.
"You don't believe in demons," I said, figuring out that his resistance wasn't just the inherent reluctance of a sorcerer to share information with a witch.
"They're a construct. A way of justifying the great evil man is capable of."
I nodded. I wondered if Edmonds — a sorcerer that Blackwell had identified as powerful enough to draw Sienna's attention — would be capable of raising a demon, or if his disbelief of this aspect of magic would cause such a spell to misfire. Magic was all about intention.
Edmonds rotated the book back toward me and pointed at the second picture in the entry. This was a depiction of the three demons raised that evening in 1888. Squat, scaled beasts with flat faces and broad shoulders, they were somewhat reminiscent of the guardian lions that were a constant motif in dragon decor, but without the manes. The professor tapped the page. "You've seen such as these?"
"No."
"But you've seen something you call a demon. Manifested by Blackwell?"
Now that was a loaded question. I wasn't sure how the sorcerers governed themselves, or what their version of the witches Convocation was. I also wasn't sure if Blackwell was a member of this governing body or if raising demons was a no-no for sorcerers. I imagined it probably was, just like blood magic was for witches.
Now... did I want to get Blackwell in hot water? Hell, yes. But could I afford to get the asshole in deep shit before I managed to neutralize Sienna? No. And yes, I was now thinking of 'murdering my sister' as 'neutralizing' in my head.
I looked at Edmonds, who'd already indicated he wasn't the London liaison for visiting Adept. I opened my dowser senses and tasted his magic more thoroughly. He shared the base earthy sorcerer quality that Blackwell had, but it was more like wild mushroom risotto with mild sausage than deep cabernet. Blackwell could kick his ass.
I smiled, and started to speak, just as something slammed into and took the hinges off the door behind me. The door canted sideways and crashed onto the sofa.
I swiveled, my knife instantly in my hand, to see a six-foot-four-inch light-blond werewolf blocking the door with his arms askew. Kandy, who'd been thrown forward at his dramatic entrance, held up one hand toward me and one hand toward the werewolf at the door. She had placed herself between the newcomer and Drake, who — miraculously — was just peering around her legs rather than tackling the intruder.
The male wolf lifted his chin and scented the air. The green of his magic rolled across his eyes.
"Control yourself," Kandy snapped.
Some of the alertness eased from the blond wolf's stance.
"May I help you?" Edmonds asked. He'd jumped to his feet and was now casually twirling his wand between his fingers.
I slipped my knife back into its invisible sheath and hoped no one had noticed me pull it out. I was really glad I hadn't accidentally stabbed the werewolf. I was jumpy.
The newcomer looked startled, as if he hadn't seen anyone but Kandy in the room. Then he flushed. "Excuse me," he said. His accent was full of rounded, musical vowels. Nordic, I guessed, which explained the height and the hair color — neither were typically British as far as I'd seen. "I... I —"
"It's me," Kandy said. She didn't sound too pleased. "I'm... I must be... ovulating." She spat out the final word like it was the bane of her existence.
The Nordic wolf flushed even deeper red and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Oh," I said, because something had to be said and I had no idea what to say.
"I'll... I'll fix the door," the blond werewolf stuttered. "Of course. I'm so sorry —"
"Maintenance will fix the door," Edmonds said. He returned to his seat and his perusing of the book.
"I'm Drake," the fledgling guardian said, as if nothing odd was in the process of occurring.
"I'm Jorgen. Nice to meet you," the Nordic werewolf said. Then he looked hopefully at Kandy.
"I'm not going to breed with you," she said, then rounded on me. "Some warning would have been nice."
"I was confined in a small room with you. And he moves quickly."
Jorgen smiled broadly. "I do. Fastest in the pack."
"No one cares," Kandy said.
"You are American," he said. He was completely unruffled by her aggression.
"I'm not interested," she answered.
His smile widened. I could feel his magic gathering around him.
"She really isn't," I said, to be supportive. "You're not her type —"
"How would you know?" Kandy snarled.
I threw my hands up in the air. Apparently there was some sort of werewolf game going on here that I didn't understand.
"Give me your number," Kandy said as she handed her phone to Jorgen. "Then go away."
He — still smiling — punched his number into her phone. "Nice to meet you," he said to the rest of us. He then backed out of the office, awkwardly pulling the broken door behind him and keeping his eyes on Kandy until the very last moment.
The green-haired werewolf glared at him with her arms crossed, then she rounded on me. "Well?" she prompted. "Demons exist. We saw one raised. A pack mate of mine was sacrificed with that knife. It looked like the devil with four horns and huge fucking feet."
The sorcerer's jaw dropped.
"I cut off its horn," Drake added helpfully. He jumped up to replace the book on the shelf, then crossed to peer down at the chronicle open on the desk.
"You did not," Kandy said.
"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "I get that the demon is important and everything, but who the hell was that guy?"
"Footballer," Edmonds answered.
"Some wolf," Kandy said dismissively.
"He didn't look like a football player."
"Soccer," Edmonds said.
"Right."
"The demon?" Edmonds then prompted.
"Here's the thing, professor," I said. "We think we might only have one day, and I'd love to chat about demons and such with you..." — yeah, that was an utter lie — "... but we're on a schedule."
"I see. November 9th. Dates are important to your sister?"
I shrugged. "Magic is intention."
"Not exactly," Edmonds said. "These demons — if you believe in such things, and particularly in this story — have been summoned and vanquished. They cannot be raised again. In fact, some historians would argue that the location itself is closed. That the spot between the underworld and the mortal world was weak enough —"
"If you believe demons to be fallen angels or to rise from hell, sure," I said.
"And what do you believe, Jade Godfrey?"
I smiled and dodged the question. "What we're trying to figure out is what my sister believes, and whether or not she has allies or accomplices in London. Whether she's here at all actually, and what she's planning to do."
Edmonds nodded.
I closed the demon history book. He wasn't the sorcerer we were looking for. "Thank you for your time."
"Wait," he said. "The other two names that Blackwell gave you. Perhaps I can help you locate them?"
Yeah, sure. I was starting to figure out why so many of the Adept were so cagey all the time. Edmonds could totally want to honestly help. Or he could be collecting information on fellow sorcerers who Blackwell felt were capable of raising a demon, and who therefore had the power Sienna might be seeking.
Edmonds smiled at me. I was pretty transparent. He pulled a pad of sticky notes out of his desk and jotted down two names and phone numbers.
"That isn't a book of power," he said as he wrote. "The book itself wouldn't be an aid to a witch, even one who is blood crazed."
"I know."
"Yes, I see that you do." He handed me the sticky note.
"Perhaps these names will be duplicates, and perhaps they will just be extra. I'll call to let them know you spoke to me."
"Thank you." I stood, leaned over, wrote my cell number on a blank sticky note, then passed the pad back to him.
Kandy propped open the busted door, then she and Drake stepped into the hall. They moved together as if in some sort of collusion, which was worrisome. It was weird that I noticed, though. Branson had been berating me about 'being aware' for three months. I guess it was sinking in.
I stepped back toward Edmonds only to find that he'd approached without me realizing, so that I nearly bumped into him. I took a step back when he didn't, then said quietly, "Is it common knowledge that you don't believe in demons?"
"I would have thought so."
"Let me just warn you, then. Sienna won't be difficult to miss. She can't possibly sneak up on you, but I wouldn't stop for a chat."
Edmonds twisted his lips in a smirk that looked ill-placed on his face.
"Please," I practically begged, discovering that I liked this man despite the fact he was a sorcerer. "I understand that no sorcerer thinks a witch could best them. But Sienna had a rather lackluster talent that she's somehow made formidable and deadly."
Edmonds nodded. "I'll keep an eye out."
"And mention it to your... Guild?" I guessed at the name of the sorcerers' version of the witches' Convocation. He didn't correct me. But then he wouldn't just give that information away.
"If you wish."
"I do. You know how to text, don't you?"
"Do I know how to... how old do you think I am?"
"Pretty old."
"Ouch. I thought Canadians were infinitely polite."
"Well, I've been hanging out with the wrong sort."
Edmonds' gaze flicked over my shoulder, undoubtedly to Drake. I could see every question written across his face. I wondered what sort of Adept the sorcerer thought Drake was. I didn't know if sorcerers could qualify magic or just sense power. Drake was a lot of sheer power.
"Zebrafish?" the fledgling guardian asked hopefully.
I glanced at the sticky note in my hand.
"Surely you have a few minutes. It's an impressive facility," Edmonds coaxed.
"Thank you, professor," I said.
"Any time, Jade Godfrey, granddaughter of Pearl, Convocation chair, and baker of cupcakes. I hope we meet again."
I nodded and turned away down the corridor. I felt badly about not shaking his hand, but the Adept weren't all over casual contact.
"Are we going to be accosted by any more ruggedly male werewolves?" I asked Kandy as she matched my stride.
"Very funny coming from someone screwing around with an alpha," she said.
"Three months ago."
Kandy snorted.
"Just heavy petting."
"Uh huh."
"But not again. The life debt bond thing bothers me."
"You'll get over it."
"Heavy petting what?" Drake asked. "Sex, you mean?"
"I thought you wanted to see zebrafish, Drake." I suddenly wished I had a cookie with which to distract him. I'd become way too comfortable with all the Adept in my life, so my guard was low and my tongue loose. But I really didn't know how to be any other way.
A text message from Kett informed me that I was to meet him outside the building at the southeast corner of Stamford Street and Cornwall Road. Yeah, I was in London for the first time in my life. I wasn't sure how to get out of the building, let alone which way was southeast.
However, I did the mature thing and texted back.
_On our way._
I figured I could pick up the vampire's magic on the street... or try to access our life debt bond. Except he'd feel that on his end, and I wasn't sure how he might respond.
Drake had surged ahead of us down the hall. He moved with a confidence a thirteen-year-old wouldn't normally display, as if he owned everything around him even as he was experiencing it for the first time.
Kandy was texting with someone, probably updating Desmond. How had the world functioned before cellphones? Crises must have come and gone without anyone knowing.
"Is it always like that?" I asked Kandy. "With wolves? Does that ovulating thing happen often?" My head was all over the place, and not just today.
"No," Kandy answered. "When you first join a pack, maybe. Or infringe on a new territory."
"For you?"
"First time. Unless they're of the same rank, most wolves see me as the alpha's enforcer, and that's fine with me. I don't want to play their games anyway."
"And... it's not like you're interested in that."
"In what, mating?"
"Yeah."
"You think I never want to have kids?"
"No... I mean, not with a guy."
Kandy bared her teeth at me in that nonsmile of hers. The one that informed me I was about to cross some line and she'd be glad to put me back in my place.
"I thought... I mean..." Okay, I was confused.
Kandy let me off the hook, sort of. "Just because I like human girls doesn't mean I'd choose to mate with a female werewolf. God, no." Kandy shuddered. "Can you imagine?"
I couldn't, but I had an idea my reasons were different than Kandy's. "I just meant that visceral connection. Have you... is that what it's always like for a shapeshifter?"
Kandy stopped walking. I continued a few steps, then awkwardly turned back. The green-haired werewolf stood with her arms crossed, glowering at me from the middle of the hall.
"I told you he wouldn't marry you," Kandy said.
I sighed. "And I told you I wasn't interested in marriage."
Kandy cocked her head to one side and waited. I glanced over to Drake, who had managed to lead us back to the front entrance. He was eyeing an art installation in a way that was making me nervous.
"Fine," I said. "I get that sex can be — should be — fun. That it doesn't have to be about love and marriage, but... God, I feel so freaking shallow even having this conversation right now —"
"Just get it out. Then it won't haunt you so much."
"Won't it?"
Kandy offered me a sad twist of a smile. "You know what I meant."
"Yeah, it's hard to keep all the emotions separate. Before I knew who I was — biologically I mean, because I sure as hell don't know who I actually am yet —"
"That's easy. You're Jade. You're cupcakes, trinkets, and deadly magic. Like that knife you carry. Pretty green stone, tasty magic, and deadly."
I smiled. "Well, thanks for sorting that for me."
"Any time." Kandy laughed and I felt blessed by the rare sound. Sure, she snorted and sneered a lot, but a full laugh was unusual.
"Desmond is going to find that connection with another shapeshifter someday, and I'll just sit there and watch him be blown away. If he's even talking to me after three months of silence."
Kandy shrugged. "Cats are different than wolves."
"It's the magic of it. The chemical reaction. Some humans think that's all love is, chemicals mixing perfectly."
Kandy nodded. I glanced back at Drake just as he reached for the first steel crossbeam of the installation.
"Drake!" I yelled.
He snatched his arms back to his sides. "What?" he asked, perfectly nonchalant.
"Don't climb art," I said, closing the distance between us.
"Is that what this is?" The fledgling dragon stared at the installation again.
"Yeah... I think it's a fish."
"A zebrafish?"
"There's a plaque right there," Kandy said. "Or can't you read English now?"
"Kett's waiting," I said as I stepped between the werewolf and the fledgling. Drake was grinning at Kandy like he was microseconds away from seeing how far he could toss her.
"I know, I saw him circle the block twice already." Drake reached over my shoulder and tagged Kandy on the forehead with a flick of his finger. "Front seat!" he yelled, and then he took off for the doors.
"Shotgun!" Kandy yelled after him. "You're supposed to call 'shotgun'!"
Drake laughed, managing to not kill any students as he exited the building.
"He can't sit in the front seat," I said, slowly moving after him. "That's way too close to the engine."
"Hey," Kandy said. "Aren't I supposed to get chocolate if you're going to force girly talk on me?"
"I'll buy," I answered, crossing my heart with my index finger. "Your choice, ASAP."
"I'll use my Google-fu while you compare lists with the vampire and find another sorcerer for us to freak out."
I laughed. "Good plan."
Jorgen, the Nordic werewolf, was waiting for Kandy on the steps to the street. His back stiffened and he plucked the earbuds from his ears when we were ten steps away from him. He turned and grinned at Kandy.
She glowered at him in return. His grin widened. And then, to my surprise, Kandy smiled back at him.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," she answered.
My heart pinched, right in that sore spot I'd been carrying for Sienna for over six months now. I pivoted away, crossing diagonally toward Drake where he leaned against a brick planter at the base of the stairs.
"See you later?" I heard Jorgen ask behind me.
"Maybe," Kandy answered. Then she jogged a few steps to catch up with me.
"That was a quick mating dance," I muttered.
"Nah, the dance hasn't started yet." Kandy actually sounded cheerful.
Kett, in a completely new, pristinely white luxury SUV, pulled past us on the street. We hopped into the vehicle while it was still rolling. Did Bentley or Rolls Royce make an SUV? If so, this was one of those. Even I could see the difference an extra hundred thousand dollars made. I felt bad placing my feet anywhere near the floor mat. Who would be insane enough to spend this sort of money on a car? Right, an elder vampire.
I settled into the passenger seat beside Kett — I'd shouldered Drake away from the front — and glanced over at the vampire. He looked pale. He shouldn't look pale, because he was always pale. More pale was a bad sign.
"Everything cool?" I asked him as we pulled into traffic.
He nodded but didn't look at me. The edge of the neck of his sweater was twisted, and I reached over to smooth it without thinking. It was stretched actually, the delicate cashmere fibers torn in places.
Kett snatched my hand away from his neck, crushing my fingers in his grip. He glared at me, red whirling in his eyes. The SUV lurched into the other lane, and a squeal of wheels indicated we'd narrowly missed being hit from the side.
"You're going to break my fingers," I whispered, trying to not wince from the pain of him grinding the small bones of my hand against each other.
He released my hand and returned his attention to the road.
"Touchy, touchy, vamp," Kandy said from the back seat. Her warning was obvious. She took her protection duties seriously.
"We got two more names from Edmonds, but he hasn't seen Sienna," I said. My even tone sounded forced as I pulled Blackwell's list from my satchel and compared it to the sorcerer's sticky note. "Same names."
"We'll head to the bookstore as planned, then." Kett's remoteness sounded perfectly natural.
Kandy and Drake started digging through some brown paper bags they'd found in the back hatch area. Kett had gone grocery shopping.
"You need to feed," I whispered to Kett without looking at him.
"Are you offering?" He snapped the question back at me, full of anger and indignation.
"No. I —"
"Then it's none of your business."
Drake passed an apple over my shoulder and I gladly took it. It was cold, as if it had been in a refrigerator. I pressed it against my cheek and stared out my window as the city of London creeped by. Kett didn't speak further, didn't ask for directions. I didn't make any more observations.
I'd always had a hard time keeping or finding friends, except Sienna. I didn't like acknowledging that hard spot lodged in my heart. And the fact that the spot was still there after all Sienna had done told me so much about myself that I didn't want to know. That I was stupid, and slow, and loyal to a fault.
Just like I was being stupid about how the vampire's pissiness bothered me. Not that Kett was a friend. He'd never pretended to be, and my reactions were my own, not dictated by him.
I bit down on the apple and sucked the tart juice from the flesh. I reminded myself that this trip to London wasn't about seeking revelation. I didn't need any more insight. What I needed was resolution; otherwise I was going to be caught in limbo between the two halves of myself — of my life — forever.
# 7
The bookstore Kett referred to was in the basement of a posh brick building in the South Kensington area of London. Once again, I had no idea where I was, but if I had been really into high-end shopping, this would obviously have been the place to come.
The bookstore owner — Clark — had been listed second by Blackwell and first by Edmonds. He didn't seem to have a phone, but that might have been a magic thing. Why some Adepts could use phones or other electronic devices while others couldn't didn't seem to be completely dependent on sheer power, so I wasn't sure yet what made the difference. How an Adept carried or used their magic, maybe?
Kett hadn't needed the GPS to find the bookshop, which was tucked between a shoe store and a clothing boutique. One look at the shoes let me know they cost more than the monthly rent on my bakery. And the clothing wasn't up to the sword-and-sorcery lifestyle I was currently living.
The bookstore was actually below ground. The front door — heavily warded — sat at the base of a narrow set of stairs. McGrowly, with his insanely broad shoulders, wouldn't have fit through it.
Why were my thoughts so constantly haunted by powerful people who I wasn't sure had my best interests at heart these days? Life was much simpler when I just needed to worry about matching my nail polish to my newest cupcake creation. The question looming before me was whether I wanted to go back there. To the simplicity. And could I do so now even if I wanted to?
A placard on the sidewalk declared that the store was open and called 'Books, Tomes, and Other Publications.' A bright orange arrow pointed down the stairs. Clark had as much flare for naming things as I did... as in, opting for the very obvious.
Despite the sign, though, the store wasn't open. At least it wasn't open for us, or for unknown Adept in general. Also, we belatedly realized as we crammed down the stairs together that we didn't actually all fit on the small landing in front of the entrance and the side window.
Runes were carved into the wood of the doorjamb. A playbill for _Wicked_ was displayed in the window, through which I could see a book-covered bench. Other than that, all I could see inside was shelves upon shelves of used books.
"There's a bell," Kandy prompted. She was still on the stairs behind Kett and me. Drake was between her and us... the better to keep an eye on him.
"I've been here before," Kett said.
"And yet you hesitate to enter. That bodes well. Not," I said.
Kandy snorted.
Ignoring us, Kett closed his hand on the door latch. The silvery-blue magic of the runes shifted. They tasted of cloves and nutmeg... gingerbread cookies, actually, with that earthy sorcerer undertone.
The door opened. Kett flicked his ice-blue eyes to me. The blood I'd seen whirling in them in the car was gone.
"Try not to eat anyone we're looking to get answers from," I said, hoping he would be willing to move past whatever was currently standing between us.
The vampire offered me a toothy grin and then slipped silently into the bookstore. So I guess we were okay. Maybe I'd been overreacting. I wouldn't be surprised. I was on edge about everything.
The door closed behind Kett. I couldn't taste or feel anything beyond the runes of the doorway.
"Wouldn't books get musty in a basement?" I asked.
"Easy to defend," Kandy said.
"If there are two exits," Drake added.
"The guy's a sorcerer. He probably fled out the back the moment he knew we were here," Kandy said.
"I don't think we triggered any spells on our way down," I said.
"There are probably spells to prevent mustiness," Kandy offered.
The door reopened, and Clark — or so I assumed since I couldn't feel his magic beyond the wards — stood smiling at us. I couldn't see Kett. Clark couldn't have gotten more typically sorcerer if he'd tried. Unlike with Edmonds, I suspected he didn't bother to be anything other than what he was — a sixty-plus, gray-haired, round-bellied, magical bookstore-owning sorcerer with a comb-over.
"Jade Godfrey?" His British accent was so thick it took me a moment to recognize my name.
"Yes," I answered. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Clark."
"Just 'Clark,' there's no mister here," he responded. "Yes, yes. The vampire says you have a book I might be interested in."
"We aren't selling," I said. "But we have questions."
"Yes, yes. We will see, won't we?" He stepped back from the doorway. "Come, come. Let's see what you have."
Clark had just stepped beyond the first bookshelf when I cleared the ward that he'd opened with his invitation. The sorcerer stumbled, and Kett appeared from among the shelves at his side.
Drake stepped into the store with Kandy behind him. Clark twisted back to us, clutching the bookshelf and visibly paler. Kett was supporting the shelf instead of touching Clark.
"What?" Clark murmured. Then he snapped his mouth shut while he stared at us crowding the entrance to his bookstore. "I... I..." Clark started again but didn't continue. His smile was entirely wiped from his face. "You said... witch and werewolf," he finally articulated to Kett.
"Yes," Kett responded smoothly, lying through his perfectly white, straight teeth.
Clark straightened. His face was now closed and questioning. Not fearful or angry, but unsure and wary. "Well, let's see what you have," he said, then he continued farther back into the store.
Not everyone found my magic tasty or Drake's compelling, it seemed.
Clark crossed behind a book-strewn counter deep within the shop. After shifting a few volumes around, he found and pulled on his reading glasses. Thus bespectacled, he took another moment to take Kandy, Drake, and me in.
I tried smiling, but the sorcerer's earlier jovial nature didn't return.
He nodded, though to what I wasn't sure, then cleared a space on the counter and patted the worn wood before him.
I obligingly pulled Blackwell's demon history chronicle out of my satchel and placed it before the sorcerer.
He hovered his hands over the book for a moment, then touched its edges lightly to rotate it toward him. "Not the original," he said.
"No," I answered, though it hadn't been a question.
He flipped open the cover and perused the first entry. "A fine duplication."
"Yes?"
"Yes, well, Blackwell always employs the best." Ah, Clark recognized the book and its owner.
"Does he?"
Clark looked up at me and offered a grim smile. "Does he still have the original?"
"No."
Clark's lips tightened. "Have you left him alive?" he asked. Then he glanced over all of us again.
"Unfortunately," Kandy answered, standing to my right.
Clark smiled more genuinely in the werewolf's direction. "That's too bad. I was hoping you'd agree to auction the books in his collection."
"We have left the sorcerer and his collection unharmed," Kett said. He was half hidden in the shadows to my left. His voice was as neutral as it ever was, but something was still bothering him. I didn't like it when things bothered the vampire. It took a lot to get him riled, and it was damn difficult to rein him in after the fact. He'd once left a tooth in Desmond's neck. I wondered if it had grown back yet, not that I wanted a close look at his fangs.
"Are you seeking the original?" Clark asked as he returned his attention to the book.
"In a way," I answered. "We're looking for a witch."
"And you think she might have come to me? What do I have that would draw her?"
"Your power," I said, very aware that the gingerbread magic I referred to was swirling around him now like a cloak. His manner was understated but his magic was uneasy. My suggestion further agitated it.
"And what are you here to try to take from me, Jade Godfrey, who is not a witch?"
"Nothing, sir," I answered. "I just have questions about my sister, Sienna — or Valencia, depending on what name she is currently using — and the book. A specific entry in the chronicle."
Clark held my gaze. This time I didn't smile. He nodded.
"I have read this history, page by page. There are three incidents that take place in London. Is it to one of those you refer?"
"The witch we seek has the sacrificial knife that was used in the Dorset Street rising," I said.
"What good would such a knife do a witch?"
"I don't know. We're still in the finding-the-puzzle-pieces part of our investigation."
"Information such as you seek is something I usually trade for."
"All right," I said. Then I waited. I was getting better at waiting, because I had learned during my dragon training that waiting was also the state of anticipating... taking a pause to watch which foot your opponent shifted his weight to, or to notice where or to who his eyes flicked.
Clark glanced at Drake, but then quickly looked away. The sorcerer couldn't just openly demand to know what sort of Adept the fledgling guardian was, because not knowing made him look weak.
He then slid his gaze to take in Kandy, who'd become antsy by my side. She rolled up on the balls of her feet and rotated her shoulders.
The air in the bookstore wasn't musty in the least. I cast my gaze around while Clark decided what he would ask us in return for information. Once beyond the wards, I had expected to feel magic from the books Clark collected and sold, but most of the shelves contained completely nonmagical hardbacks written and probably purchased by humans. History dominated many of the shelves — broken down by year and region — but a smattering of fiction paperbacks held a prime spot by the front door. A large section in the back corner seemed devoted to London specifically.
I'd expected magic to be buzzing at me from various points around the room, but besides a couple of books on Clark's counter, all the magic was concentrated behind and below where the sorcerer stood. This area — another basement level, I surmised — was warded from detection. Obviously, I could feel those inner wards, but I shouldn't have been able to feel the books hidden by those wards at all.
My gaze fell on three rocks sitting on the counter between Clark and me.
The sorcerer was watching me again. "You won't consent to leave the book with me?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
I shook my head. "I have something more valuable to offer you, sorcerer."
Clark's eyes narrowed. He didn't believe me for one moment.
I grinned. I used to loathe being underestimated, but now I was becoming a bit of a show-off. It wasn't a great character trait by any means, but Kandy, Kett, and Drake didn't care. On a daily basis, they were far more sure of themselves than I ever was.
"You have a large — I'm guessing rare by the various tastes — collection of books in your basement, sorcerer. You've taken pains to hide them, but you haven't succeeded."
Clark, who'd been thoughtfully tapping the demon history book, stilled. Then, he covered this pause with an amiable smile. "Of course I have a rare book collection. I advertise as much." He gestured to the shelves behind him. Those shelves did indeed hold a variety of magical books, but their magic was dim, almost flavorless.
"I'm not referring to those tasteless bits of bound paper. I'm speaking of the hundred or so books that lie beneath your feet."
Kett slipped by Kandy to stand directly beside me. He was a big fan of hidden collections.
Clark's eyes flicked to the vampire and then back at me. A glimmer of magic drew my attention to a ring he wore on his left index finger. The ring, which had been invisible before, was now imbued with his gingerbread power.
"Can you cast with that ring, Clark?" I asked, derailed by the bright shiny object — yes, I was still me underneath all the sword training and dragon DNA.
Clark looked startled. Then he smiled. "Dowser," he said.
I gifted him with an answering smile. Yeah, if I was going to blather on about hidden books and invisible rings then I wasn't hiding much from anyone, which was fine by me. Hiding took too much energy, and I didn't have any to spare.
"I'm surprised Blackwell lets you out of his sight."
"Who says Blackwell has any dominion over me?"
Clark's smile broadened. Sorcerers were such power sluts.
"Have you seen or been contacted by this witch with the book and the knife?"
"No," Clark answered readily enough. "No witches at all. Just you, dowser. Not for about three weeks."
"She would be..." — I wasn't sure if Sienna still looked all black-witchy and veiny like she had the last time I saw her — "... unmistakable."
Clark's smile faded as he nodded. "Dark?"
"Yes, and possibly accompanied by a fledgling necromancer."
"No necromancers either. But then, they keep to themselves and aren't fond of old books, or of London in general."
"Too many ghosts," Drake whispered behind me to Kandy.
"I got it," the green-haired werewolf replied. "I'm not an idiot, boy."
I leaned over and flipped the pages of the chronicle until it was open to the picture of the sacrificial knife and the demon rising of November 9th, 1888.
Clark peered down at the entry. "I still don't understand what a witch would want with a book about vanquished demons. They can't be raised again, knife or no knife."
"Would you be capable of raising a demon?" I asked.
Clark paused. His ring glowed brighter for a moment. I drew back from the counter and wrapped my left hand around my necklace. That caught his attention, and the glow in his ring subsided.
Going around asking sorcerers if they could raise demons was so asking to get my ass kicked.
"You said you had something valuable to trade, dowser," Clark said.
I glanced over at Kett. He was a far better poker player than I. He nodded.
I stepped back up to the counter and took a closer look at the three stones laid out across the edge closest to me.
At first glance, the stones appeared to be smooth, slightly flattened, hunks of granite in different shades. Perhaps they'd originally been collected at some river's edge. However, I could taste pulses of power coming from underneath them. This magic was a dimmer version of Clark's clove-and-nutmeg spiced gingerbread. Even without flipping them over, I was totally willing to bet that each stone was carved with a rune. And that the three runes — connected to each other — were the anchor for the inner ward over Clark's hidden book collection.
"The stones are in the wrong order," I said.
Clark bristled as if I'd just informed him that his child was hideous and stupid to match. "No witch knows runes better than a sorcerer," he snapped.
"See how the magic slides around but not over the middle stone," I murmured to Kett, completely ignoring the sorcerer. Clark looked as if he was gearing up for some extensive rant, flushed cheeks and all.
Kett leaned forward, but I knew he couldn't see magic as well as I could. "Perhaps," he said. Vampires hated being wrong. I was surprised he was willing even to come halfway.
"The rune magic paired with the natural magic in the stone wants to be helpful, wants to heed your command, but you have them fighting each other."
"Every ancient spellbook..." Clark sputtered. "This is absolutely preposterous to suggest. That I... that I... a sorcerer easily forty-five years your senior —"
I reached out and shifted the middle stone out of alignment. Clark lunged for me. Kett's hand was at his neck before the sorcerer had gotten to within an inch of my fingers.
I tugged the left stone into the middle spot and replaced it with the one that had been in the middle before.
The magic settled over the three stones. Then it flowed in a loop over and around all three. The taste of the books stored beneath Clark's feet disappeared.
I looked up at the sorcerer with a smile.
One of his hands was pinned to the desk by Kandy, the other by Drake. I'd been too intrigued by the magic stones to see either of them move. The fledgling guardian looked far too interested in the sorcerer's ring.
Kett released his hold on Clark's neck so swiftly that he actually stumbled forward.
In a breath, all three — Kett, Drake, and Kandy — were arrayed beside and behind me once again.
Clark blinked his eyes rapidly a few times. Then he remembered to close his mouth. He let whatever spell he had called up in the ring drop with an exhalation.
"I didn't mean to bully you," I said. "I'm just not great at talking through magical theory."
Clark pulled his reading glasses off and peered down at the three stones. Then he rubbed his eyes and looked again. "I... I..."
"You're welcome. Of course, we four will always know what lies beneath your feet."
Clark blanched.
"I was joking, sorcerer." I turned to Kandy. "Have you noticed that everyone is so serious today?"
"Yeah," the green-haired werewolf answered. "And you're not even wearing the sword. The blade really ups your bad-ass quotient."
Clark swallowed. "Thank you, dowser," he said. "I see. I don't quite believe, but —"
"It works."
"Yes."
"Now, to my question."
Clark licked his lips. "Yes, I would be capable. But you must understand, it would be suicide. If the spell didn't kill me, then the demon would. Only the foolhardy would think they could control such a thing."
"Yeah, well, foolhardy is kind of my sister's thing."
"Have you, Clark Dean Adamson, laid eyes on or heard of the black witch?" Kett asked, evoking the sorcerer's full name in that formal way of his. The fact that he knew the sorcerer's name spoke of their history together. A history I didn't have the time or inclination to dig into right now.
Clark swallowed again. "I have not met her myself, but I can give you a name."
Of course he could. Sorcerers seemed really big on selling each other out. I would have thought such individualism would be a relief after coming to understand the almost enmeshed nature of the witches' Convocation. Every little thing a witch did was accountable to her coven, and all covens were heavily governed by the Convocation. Put one toe out of line and you were blacklisted and punished. Then, hunted — if you ran — as Sienna was now hunted. But a witch would never write the names of her coven members on a piece of paper and hand it over to Adepts of unknown power.
The sorcerers' individualism bred mistrust and competition. At least it was currently to my benefit. Hopefully, Sienna wasn't reaping the rewards as well.
Driving in London was an exercise in insanity. Thankfully, traffic moved slowly, because everything was twisted around and on the wrong side.
It also seemed as if there was a tube station every block or so... that was how many people lived in London and took public transportation. When I suggested we leave the SUV and try out the tube to Piccadilly, Kett looked at me as if I'd lost it. I guessed that vampires and underground rail didn't mix.
While walking back to the vehicle from Clark's bookstore, I kept stepping off curbs after looking in the wrong direction. I'd already been saved by three Londoners from death by double-decker bus. Kandy had nearly torn the arm off the first guy who blocked me. Thankfully, she figured out he was trying to save my life before removing any of his limbs.
So we drove. Kett was at the wheel while Kandy pored over maps on the iPad in the back seat — orienting herself, she said. Drake was working his way through a dozen crumpets that I'd insisted we stop for, but then didn't feel like eating. Yep, my world was upside down.
This wasn't a vacation, though that didn't stop me from staring at Buckingham Palace when Kandy pointed it out through the buildings. I thought Kett was trying to keep to the back roads, except such a thing really didn't seem to exist in London.
"You don't like it here," I said as I watched Kett wring his hands on the steering wheel for the third time. The vampire wasn't big on extraneous movement. He barely turned the wheel to navigate the SUV.
"It's London," he answered.
I let it drop and changed the subject. "The sorcerers don't seem very organized. Not as political as other Adepts."
"They have their League, but I doubt they all meet more often than once a year, except in dire cases."
"The magic is old here. Even with all the renovated buildings. It's old and well used. Almost tapped out."
"A witch would feel that way in any city with such history. Disconnected from the magic. There are not many witches of power that reside in London."
"Because of the magic or because of the sorcerers?"
"The sorcerers are not the seat of power here."
"No? There's no League liaison we should meet?"
Kandy shifted forward in her seat, though she didn't have to get closer to hear our conversation.
Kett stilled, his gaze on the road, and for a moment I thought he wouldn't answer. He often chose to not answer. Information was power to vampires.
"There are many creatures of magic that call London home," he finally said.
"Many different types of Adept?"
"These powerful few would not title themselves as such, yet it is their city. We have thirty-six hours before we must present ourselves. I suggest we be gone in less than twenty-four."
Well, that was an oddly delivered and underplayed threat... if it was a threat.
"There aren't many shapeshifters here either," Kandy said before I could question Kett further.
"Just your wolf hunk all on his lonesome, eh?" I teased.
Kandy glowered at me. "He's here for school."
"Shapeshifters, like witches, prefer an environment where nature can be easily accessed," Kett said.
"But not vampires," I said, bringing us back on point.
"No. Not vampires," Kett agreed.
"Because vampires are already magic," Drake offered from the back seat. "They don't need to tap into natural sources to replenish."
"Blood is pretty natural," Kandy said with a sneer.
"Exactly," Drake responded. "There's more blood in cities."
"So London is full of vampires?" I asked. As I peered out at the gray, drizzly day and the people swamping the sidewalks, it made sense.
"No," Kett answered. His tone was measured and thoughtful. "One vampire and his... brethren, if they're in his good graces this century."
Something about Kett's even tone and careful phrasing made me shudder. I don't think I'd ever heard him search for a word before, not in mid sentence.
"Are you... are you one of his brethren?"
Kett inclined his head. "I am connected to a child of his."
"Big vamp is your gramps?" Kandy asked.
"By blood," Kett replied, his tone clipped.
I was surprised he was still answering questions. I was scared, actually, that he was still answering questions. It meant he thought the knowledge was important... and vampires only ranked life, death, and power as important, not necessarily in that order.
"So in thirty-six hours we have to go meet your blood grandfather?"
"No. One of his lieutenants."
"One of his children?"
"If you prefer to think of them that way. As long as you understand that he hasn't divided his power in over a millennium."
"I don't understand."
"Energy cannot be created."
"I know, only harnessed."
"Yes, so vampires do not... breed often or successfully. Only the most powerful manage, and even they must be willing to lose something of themselves. To become lesser for a time."
"Vamps don't give up power easily," Kandy said.
"No," Kett answered. "And they often loathe the one they have created for that exact reason."
He pulled the SUV to the curb in front of a five-storey apartment building. Not that it looked like any apartment I'd ever seen before. It was... very British. Hell, I had no idea how else to describe it. It was brick, stone, casings, and porticos or whatever... big, cased, paned windows... wooden door with a huge brass knocker. That sort of thing.
Kett turned to step out of the vehicle.
"Wait, wait," I murmured.
Kett paused.
Kandy and Drake, always eager to be moving, tumbled out onto the street. The wrong side of the street — for me, at least.
"What are you not saying?" I asked. "Is this vampire — the lieutenant guy. Is he your... dad?"
"He is not my maker," Kett replied. He turned to look at me. I could see his magic dancing in his skin — glimmers of red shards — and in his icy blue eyes.
"Am I dragging Drake and Kandy into danger?"
"Most certainly."
"I meant with the vampires of London."
Kett grinned, showing off his perfectly white, straight teeth. He was getting far too comfortable with that particular human gesture.
"I know something happened to you while we were talking to Edmonds."
"You know me well." Kett's grin widened into a smile.
"Stop smiling at me. Is big bad vamp going to try to fang us all or what?"
Kett laughed. The sound was oddly husky for his usually cool tones. "No one will bite anyone without permission."
"But we need to be gone within twenty-four hours."
"Most definitely."
"Otherwise, there are many ways to obtain permission, right?" Yep, I wasn't dimwitted all the time. Kett only had the okay to be in London for thirty-six hours. After that, his companions would be considered snacks. My mind boggled. Witch politics had always seemed so complicated, but at least they didn't demand blood tithes.
"You can't tell me that every Adept in London allows the vampires to drink from them."
Kett sighed. It was a heavy, deliberate sound. Deliberate in the fact that he had to inhale to speak or sigh, but not otherwise. Heavy because he was choosy when using it. "You're not just some Adept, Jade. And yes, any Adept of power in London forms some sort of allegiance with the big bad — as you call him — or his brethren."
Great. London belonged to the vampires... or at least one particular vampire.
"Do they at least wear capes and turn into bats or fog? It would make them easier to identify."
"You're thinking of Dracula's crew. You need to go much farther east to run into them."
I'd been joking, but I wasn't entirely sure Kett was joking back... though his use of the term 'crew' made it seem likely.
"I can see you thinking, dowser," Kett said. "It looks difficult."
Yep, now he was teasing me.
"You're awfully peppy all of a sudden, vampire," I said, not feeling at all playful. "That worries me."
Kett nodded. "As it should," he said.
Then he climbed out of the SUV.
Yeah, that wasn't a joke either. I sighed and followed him out into the drizzly day.
Three months of serious training in the dragon nexus and I was still lagging behind... everyone. Being able to kick someone's ass — even potentially — didn't make it any easier to figure them out or find them.
# 8
Peter Sayers, the third sorcerer on Blackwell's list, the second on Edmonds' Post-it, and the name Clark had all too willingly given up, lived just off Piccadilly. I gathered, given the way Clark had phrased it, that this area was supposed to be famous, or at least well known. For me, all the streets and buildings in London were pretty impressive looking, no matter the neighborhood. Sayers' apartment building was one of those all-brick deals with white-painted trim and paned windows, five storeys high.
"Nice building," I said as I joined Kandy, who was leaning against a lamppost and ignoring the never-ending drizzle that appeared to be the sum total of London weather.
Kandy shrugged. "Looks all the same to me. Big, loud, and too many humans."
"Impressive, though. It must be expensive to live right in downtown London."
"I doubt he owns the entire building," Kett said as he stepped up to my left.
Yeah, vampires weren't any more easily impressed than dragons. I ignored him. "Shall we buzz?"
"Already did. You know, while you were getting cozy with the vamp," Kandy answered. "No one home, apparently."
"I don't feel any wards here," I said, ignoring the barbed edge of the werewolf's comment. "Wait... where the hell is Drake?"
Kandy pointed up and to the right.
Drake was scaling the building. The thirteen-year-old was jumping from ledge to ledge, pulling himself up on the iron railings that I was pretty sure were only for decoration.
Kett started laughing.
Kandy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she turned to look incredulously at the vampire.
Yeah, Kett laughing was more remarkable than Drake scaling a five-storey building in broad daylight in the middle of freaking London. London, England. With a population of seven million plus people. All of who seemed to be on the street at any given time.
I glanced around. Being mostly residential, the sidewalks weren't as crowded as South Kensington, but there were still people passing by carrying groceries, walking dogs, and parking their cars.
Kandy started laughing.
Oh, sweet Jesus. "It's not funny," I hissed as I fought the urge to literally start pulling out my hair. "What is he doing?"
Kandy stopped laughing long enough to answer. "Seeing if the sorcerer is home."
"We don't even know which apartment is his."
"4A. It's on the buzzer. Probably the fifth floor. According to the fledgling, Brits number funny."
For some reason this statement made Kett laugh even harder. So then Kandy started laughing again. When had I become the stick-in-the-mud between a vampire and a werewolf? My life had turned completely freaking upside down.
"We need to get him down," I said. "Before someone sees him."
Police sirens sounded from a few blocks over and I flinched. Jesus, I didn't even know what to do if Drake got arrested. He didn't have a passport, and he certainly didn't look or sound remotely British.
Any minute, a Londoner was going to glance up and see the thirteen-year-old jimmying the window on the fifth floor above their heads. That was, once they stopped staring at Kett and Kandy guffawing it up on the sidewalk. Anyone who passed gave us a wide berth. A woman with two toddlers in a double stroller actually crossed the street to avoid passing by the giggle twins.
Drake got in the window.
I waited, my hand on my knife, for some explosion of magic as the fledgling disrupted a ward or was confronted by an angry sorcerer.
Kandy was wiping tears from her eyes. She caught me glaring at her. "What?" she asked. "It's not like he was going to hurt himself."
Kett suddenly stilled and slowly twisted his head to the left, as a cat does when seeing a ghost, or whatever they stare at when they stare at nothing. I followed his gaze but didn't see anything unusual, besides the fact that we were in London in the first place. It felt like being in the latest Bond film or BBC's _Sherlock_ — hmm, _Sherlock_ — or a historical documentary.
The street running perpendicular to us was actually much busier, more of a main thoroughfare. Cars and people were momentarily backed up at the traffic light. They then surged forward a half-car length before the light changed to green. A woman who'd been standing among the curb crowd didn't move with them. She was channeling the Audrey Hepburn look as hard as she could behind thick, black sunglasses, a three-quarter trench coat, coiffed hair, and slim-legged pants. And, yeah, I know who Audrey Hepburn was. They used her in all those Gap ads a few years back and everyone freaked about tarnishing an icon.
"I'll meet you at the hotel, dowser," Kett said.
"What? Hotel?"
"Hotel 41." Kett tossed the SUV keys toward me. I only managed to catch them out of fear of them hitting my face. "See to the fledgling."
And before I could open my mouth to freak all over him because I'd been trying to do just that for the last twenty-four hours, he was gone.
"I hate it when he does that," Kandy murmured.
"It's a trick," I said. "I mean, yeah, he moves fast. Faster than you or me, but he can't teleport. He uses the shadows."
The Audrey Hepburn lookalike was also gone. I wondered if Kett knew her. It was too much of a coincidence otherwise.
Drake wandered out of the front doors of Sayers' apartment building, grinning like an idiot. The back hem of his Scotland hoodie was torn.
"No sorcerers," he pronounced as he sauntered over to us.
"You understand what covert means, right?" I asked.
"It was Kandy's idea."
I turned to look at the green-haired werewolf. She grinned back at me, but in an edgy way, not friendly — like some tension was underlying the expression. "I just mentioned that the corner looked climbable," she said.
"That's like giving a thirteen-year-old the keys to the kingdom."
"What are these keys?" Drake asked eagerly, completely proving my point.
"I have no freaking idea," I snapped.
"Well, it's not nice to mention them like that, then."
Kandy started laughing again. Everyone had seemingly taken some sort of happy pill, and I was pissed they hadn't shared.
"Why is your hoodie torn?" I asked Drake, hoping there weren't any bodies to clean up in the fledgling's wake.
"Dog," Drake answered with a shrug.
"A dog laid tooth on you?" Kandy asked. Then she actually doubled over to laugh louder.
Drake grinned at the werewolf. His ego was so huge it was hard to even poke at it... or maybe it was that nothing ruffled him, like life was a grand playground.
I could use some of that attitude. Right after I hunted down my sister and hopefully rescued Mory — though why Sienna would drag a fledgling necromancer around for three months I don't know. Right after I took care of Sienna... stopped Sienna... killed Sienna.
"Phantom dog," Drake elaborated. "Cool spell, but he didn't have the window covered, just the front door. So I didn't see it coming."
A phantom dog had appeared and bitten a fledgling guardian dragon in the ass while he was leaving the apartment he'd already broken into by the window.
I started laughing, then. I couldn't help it.
Thank god Drake was here. Otherwise, it would just be all blood-magic, demons, and doom all the time. A girl could get lost in that darkness... a girl had gotten lost in that darkness. My sister. My best friend.
I stopped laughing.
Kandy flung her arm around my shoulders. "You need chocolate, Jade."
"I so do."
Grinning, Kandy held the iPad up so I could see the screen. It displayed a Time Out London app page for Melt, an artisan chocolate shop.
"Hot chocolate blocks, melt bars, and sea-salted caramel bonbons," Kandy said.
"Where is Notting Hill? We need to be there, like now," I declared. "But we should probably leave a note for Sayers."
"Sure," Kandy said agreeably. "How about on his fridge? After we sniff around for the black witch."
"The fridge seems rather aggressive."
"Exactly."
"We don't even know him."
Kandy shrugged. "He's the last sorcerer on the list."
"How about on his front door?" I countered. "We'll mention we were concerned for his safety, hence disturbing the wards." I glared at Drake. He grinned proudly. "I can tell from the hallway if Sienna's been around."
"Whatever," Kandy answered. The green-haired werewolf spun away and crossed to the apartment's front door.
I sighed. Was I the only one not interested in creating an international incident? Gran would be seriously displeased if I pissed off the sorcerers' League. And the League would never believe that Sayers had potentially been in peril from a witch, no matter how black.
Hotel-freaking-41 was freaking amazing. And it wasn't just the six thirty-gram melt bars going to my head. I mean, I was buzzed, of course, but the hotel was freakingly amazingly insane.
Okay, part of my awe might have been the chocolate overload. Melt's smallest bars came in milk chocolate — one with raspberry and one with hazelnuts — then dark chocolate — one with mint and one with orange — as well as a white chocolate strawberry and tarragon bar. It certainly wasn't my fault that the milk chocolate with passion fruit, the milk chocolate banana, and the sea-salted caramel bar only came in the forty-five gram size. So I had to try those as well.
I mean, I wasn't completely insane. I saved the love bar, chili bar, and popcorn bar for later... they were ninety grams each. After all, a girl had to show some control. I wasn't going to count the peanut-butter-and-jelly, white-chocolate, raspberry-and-mint, apple-crumble, or champagne bonbons either. They were tiny tastes of utter heaven, handmade fresh daily... in freaking London, England. I picked up three boxes of eighteen as well, as gifts for Gran, Scarlett, and... well, me.
Yeah, I was aware I was speaking rather quickly and much louder than I needed to when checking us into the hotel, but I was having a difficult time modulating myself. According to the front-desk clerk, Kett hadn't returned yet, though if he didn't want to be noticed coming and going, a human certainly wouldn't see him. Kandy was off in one corner of the lobby, texting and giggling. She'd consumed twice what I did. Drake was the only one of us who seemed unaffected, but maybe that was just because he was always bouncing off the walls anyway.
Everything in the hotel lobby was either oiled dark wood — wainscoting, bookshelves, art niches — or black and white — tile, carpet, linens. Even the duvets, once we got to the room, were black-and-white checked. You name it, and it was black and white, not either/or.
Kett had booked us into the conservatory suite, and after seeing its glassed ceiling and the early-evening sky view, I was super glad this wasn't going on the credit card Amber had dropped off for me. Yeah, I'd left gold and the witch had taken care of the plastic. The dragons dealt in gold coin. Drake and I got allowances, like actual kids. After seeing Amber's reaction, I had a good idea that dragons didn't have much concept of money, or of what each coin was worth in the human world.
Anyway, we'd picked up our key cards at the front desk, all without anyone asking for money, so Kett must have it covered.
Funnily enough — seeing as this was where Kett booked us — there was nothing magical about the hotel. No other Adepts. No incidental glimmers of residual magic in the halls or rooms. This felt off to me — empty. I'd become accustomed to being inundated by magic, I realized.
Kandy was continuing to text like a mad woman — she had been all the way through finding the chocolate shop, then driving to the hotel — as she wandered behind Drake and I on our way to the suite. She barely glanced at the room before she dropped her bag in the front closet and announced, "I'm out."
At least she had a bag to drop. Drake and I were still in leathers covered by gas station hoodies. We'd hidden our swords underneath the back seat before we valeted the SUV.
"What do you mean, 'out'?" I asked.
Kandy shrugged. "You know, pub out."
"You're going on a date? Now?"
"I need to eat. You know, real food."
"But —"
"We've got over eight hours until midnight. The vamp is still MIA. You two need to sleep, and I'm hungry."
"We should be scouting, hunting. I thought —"
"Nothing is going to happen in the next four hours. Shower, sleep, eat. Wait to hear from the vampire and this Sayers sorcerer. You can't rush a demon summoning." Kandy said this last bit with a smirk.
I just stared at her. I couldn't quite wrap my head around her just leaving. "You're just leaving."
"You don't have exclusive rights over leaving, Jade."
"I'm sorry, are you referring to me saving everyone's asses by dragging the demon through the portal?"
Kandy bared her teeth at me. Anger edged the sharp line of her jaw and cheekbones. "I'm referring to you not coming back until you felt like it."
Drake, having finished inspecting every nook and cranny of the suite, sidled up to me. He peered at Kandy over my shoulder.
"I wasn't... that's not how... or why," I said.
Kandy grasped the door handle and yanked it open. "Don't worry, I know my duty. I'll be back before anything goes down."
"The wolf is angry," Drake said.
Kandy curled her lip at both of us, then walked out of the room.
The door slowly swung closed on its hydraulic hinges and then clicked shut.
"Did you know she was angry?" Drake asked.
"No... I didn't realize..." Kandy was angry that I hadn't walked back through the portal with Desmond and Kett three and a half months ago. Well, so was I. But with the memory of Chi Wen's vision still seared into my mind, I knew I'd had no choice.
"I had to be careful. To plan. To make sure I didn't accidentally fulfill..."
Drake patted my shoulder. "The wolf will understand if you tell her."
I nodded and clenched my right hand into a fist. I could still feel the slick blood that had coated my skin and dripped off my hand in the vision. I could still taste Sienna's malignant black magic as it spread into the fresh blood of my dead or dying friends and family...
"The wolf is a warrior. She will fight by your side without you asking," Drake said. "If you want her there as a friend, you will need to make the request."
"Thanks, baby Buddha," I said, putting as much snark into my tone as I could muster against the darkness of my memory.
"Food?" Drake asked.
"Yes," I said, and I shook away the feeling of blood coating my hand. "Let's order room service. That way, we can eat far too much and no one will notice."
Drake grinned. "I want a hamburger and fish and chips." He held out the room service menu to me, open to the page he was referencing. So he had found something valuable during his investigation of the suite.
"Good," I answered as I crossed to the phone where it sat on a side table, painted in a harlequin diamond pattern. "And I'm not ordering a salad.... well, maybe on the side of fries."
Drake slept, but I didn't. Neither Kett nor Kandy returned to the suite. I'd exchanged a few texts with Gran and Scarlett, updating them on our lack of progress, but I hadn't heard back from the sorcerer, Peter Sayers.
Before Drake nodded off, he and I had snuck into the underground parking and retrieved our swords. I didn't like being without mine, which was odd seeing as I'd only had it for a few days. I sat with the sword across my lap and tried to meditate, but to no avail. Branson had given me the scabbard privately after my father, Yazi, had presented the sword itself. The leather of the scabbard was black, but it was etched with a dark green floral design. It was a whimsical choice coming from the sword master, but it suited me perfectly.
I wasn't remotely worthy or ready to wield this sword.
I could feel the trickle of Blackwell's spell that I'd channeled into the sword underneath my fingers. The magic, now contained, felt almost benign.
This was the sword I was going to kill my sister with... not in a cave outside of Portland, and not with my jade knife. That was the only way I knew how to stop Chi Wen's vision of the future... except to just leave Sienna alone, which I also couldn't do.
This was the sword I was going to kill my sister with... I'd known it the moment the blade had been handed to me, the moment my fingers curled around the hilt.
And with that terrible thought acknowledged, I slept.
Two hours later, with Kandy and Kett still MIA, and Drake still crashed out and snoring like a small volcano, I wandered down into the hotel restaurant.
I had a crazy craving I still hadn't quite satisfied. Yeah, I got that it would probably never be satisfied until I got my life sorted out, but I still enjoyed the act of feeding it.
I avoided the Leopard Champagne and Cocktail Bar — I really wasn't dressed for it, nor did I want company — and settled into a comfy barrel chair at a linen-swathed table for two in the empty lounge. They served dinner until 10:00 p.m., so I was just under the wire, but I wasn't there for food.
The server, who was a couple of years younger than me, sauntered over with a grin. Yeah, the place was dead and he was probably just a few minutes away from going home when I showed up — but most heterosexual men turned on the charm when confronted by my blond curls and ready smile. Even paired with the dumpy hoodie, I felt sure the laced leather pants were getting his mind whirling.
"Evening," the server said. His British accent was clipped and not as broad as Clark's had been. "Are you a guest with us, or are you waiting for a guest?" His smile widened invitingly.
I peered up at him. I couldn't quite figure out what he was suggesting with the second question.
His smile dimmed. "I apologize, I was just requesting your room number. We're encouraged to address our guests by name."
"Jade," I answered. "We're in the conservatory suite."
"I see." His smile dimmed further. I gathered that staying in the conservatory suite made me seem less available.
"I'll have one of each of these," I said, pushing the transaction along beyond the pleasantries and pointing at the dessert menu.
"Excuse me? One of each?"
"And a hot chocolate, unless it's made with a powdered mix and water."
The server stared at me for a moment, then he grinned as if he thought I was joking. I wasn't.
"Forget the cheese plate, but I'll have the melon créme brûlée, all six flavors of ice cream, the coffee ice cream sundae..." — I ran my finger down the dessert list just to make myself clear — "... forget the fruit, definitely the white chocolate parfait, and the baked cheesecake with the raspberry coulis."
The server was blinking rapidly at me. I should have stayed up in the suite, but I'd needed to take a couple of steps away.
"So?" I asked. "Is the hot chocolate made from a powdered mix?"
"Ah, no," he replied. "Chocolate sauce, house made. Ah, whipped cream?"
"Made fresh or from a can?"
"Fresh."
"Fine. Good. Thank you." I tugged the cloth napkin out of its fan shape and placed it on my lap.
The server hesitated, hovering around the second place setting. "Are you expecting..."
"No, thank you."
He quickly gathered the other setting and hustled back to the computer at the end of the bar.
So I wanted dessert? So freaking what? I inhaled as I fought to not go ballistic over something so trivial. Of course the server had reacted like that. Who wouldn't? Well, except me, of course. Or any of the shapeshifters... or dragons. Dragons adored sweets. They just never seemed to have any chocolate around...
A brown-haired man wearing a well-tailored suit stepped through the arched entrance of the lounge and stopped to scan the room. His hair was cropped short to look effortlessly styled, but I could tell it still took him fifteen minutes to fix every morning. He stood a couple of inches over six feet and had recently been wearing a tie. His buttoned-down shirt collar was designed to be worn with one, and the buttons were now undone.
He took one look at me and the pleasant smile he'd been sporting — the kind that made it look like you belonged wherever you were currently going, no questions asked — slid from his face.
He was in his early thirties, and good-looking in a pale English sort of way... meaning he was tall but too slim for my tastes, and my cheekbones didn't need the sort of competition his would offer.
He was also a sorcerer. Oh, he wore something to disperse or diffuse his magic — a personal ward maybe, because I hadn't tasted his diluted Earl Grey tea magic until I'd seen him — but he was powerful.
He hadn't moved an inch as he continued to stare at me. The server, who'd turned to greet him, was getting twitchy and exchanging questioning looks with the bartender.
"Peter Sayers," I said invitingly. My voice carried easily across the room.
The sorcerer shook his head. Then, realizing the gesture probably looked like a denial of the name, he grinned sheepishly and bobbed his head in a nod.
He only tripped once as he crossed to me. The server, who was at Sayers' heels, almost ran into him, and then paused to straighten the table the sorcerer had bumped.
"Jade Godfrey?" Sayers asked when he got to within two steps of me.
I nodded, and for some reason — now that he was near — I reached underneath the table, pulled my knife out of its sheath, and laid it across my lap.
Sayers noted my movement and nodded in acknowledgment of it.
"Will you be joining the lady?" the server asked, much more brusque than he'd been with me.
Sayers looked to me.
"Yes, please do," I said. "Something to drink?"
"Macallan's ten. Water on the side," Sayers said as he sat across the table from me. He didn't take his eyes off me.
The server nodded but hesitated to leave. Yeah, something was off about Sayers... in that perfectly pleasant, well-groomed serial killer way.
I smiled at the server. "Still only one fork though," I said.
He laughed and then headed back to the bar.
Sayers was still gazing at me as if I was some sort of gift from God. And maybe I was. Just not for him.
"I could sense your magic from the lobby," he said.
"I doubt it was solely mine. I'm not the only Adept staying here."
Sayers' eyes widened. Then he nodded as he got my underlying message — I'm not alone.
"You're still not what I expected," he said.
"I get that a lot. You spoke to Clark, then?"
He hesitated, then nodded. I wasn't totally sure that was a 'yes.'
"Why do you wear a diffuser?" I asked. "I doubt it contains your abilities — because that would be stupid — so it just tones down the taste of your magic. Why?"
Sayers went rigid, then tried to relax but didn't quite pull it off. "Dowser," he said, with a smile that was half the wattage of his previous attempt. "I run an importing/exporting business that would benefit from your services."
"The diffuser interests me, sorcerer," I said, ignoring the 'services' comment. I wasn't sure why I was pressing the issue so hard. I usually found I caught far more flies with honey — or cupcakes —than with outright demands. "What need do you have to hide your magic? From whom?"
The server stepped up to the table with a tray holding all four... no, five, of my desserts. Sayers and I didn't speak as the server placed each item down on the table and set my hot chocolate close to hand. The rapidly melting whipped cream was overflowing the mug and running down the sides. This pleased me.
"Thank you."
"Shall I identify the desserts for you?"
"No, thank you. I'm fairly certain I have it covered."
Before the server had completely turned his back, I had a bite of the cheesecake in my mouth. "Ah," I said. "Baked and served with a fruit coulis, there is no other way. I'm thinking of branching into mini cheesecakes."
Sayers' grin was back, but brimming with confidence. This grin said he'd figured me out — based on the excessive desserts — and liked what he saw. Boy, was he wrong. And, boy, was I going to get a kick out of proving it to him.
Like I'd said before, who the hell was I these days? I needed some of Drake's dragon Zen. Not all of it — it was a bit insufferable coming from a thirteen-year-old — but at least enough that I had a reserve of calm. I needed to bake or to make a trinket... maybe if I didn't exercise my alchemist powers frequently enough, my magic got caught up inside me until it desperately needed to discharge.
Magic... I was thinking about magic, not sex. Though that could easily be the problem as well.
"I'm looking for my sister," I said. Sayers opened his mouth to answer, but I cut him off. "And you've seen her."
The sorcerer snapped his mouth shut.
"You're only the fourth sorcerer I've met, Peter Sayers, and yet you're all the same." I scooped a tiny ball of pistachio ice cream onto my spoon and held it in front of my mouth. Sayers' gaze fell to my lips, as I knew it would. "Sorcerers never do anything for free, and yet you came here voluntarily."
I allowed the ice cream to roll off the spoon and onto my tongue. Then I licked the spoon.
Sayers watched me, his clamped jaw betraying his mounting anger. He didn't like being played with, but he liked the game.
"What I don't know is whether or not you're aiding Sienna."
"A sorcerer wouldn't help a witch," he spat. "And I certainly don't know any Sienna."
I believed him. "Right, she goes by another name now. And 'aid' isn't the right word, is it? No, sorcerer. Perhaps you think you're using her."
"What would a sorcerer want from a witch?"
"Well, I could give you a list of spells, potions, and charms, but that would be boring... and potentially embarrassing for you." I picked up the Pirouline, aka the cookie straw, from the side of the white chocolate parfait plate and twirled it in the air. Yeah, I was questioning his manhood.
He flushed angrily.
I tried out the parfait. It was sweet, as I knew it would be. But overly sweet — obnoxiously sweet — was exactly what I was looking for right now. Because everything else around me was in limbo — intangible, much like the magic of the sorcerer sitting across from me was diffused.
"Maybe it's the book," I said, around a second bite of the parfait. "Except the others didn't think it had much power, so why would you want it?"
The sundae was tasty. I'd scooped a large spoonful while Sayers was figuring out how to gain control of the conversation. I usually wasn't a fan of coffee, but I liked it in this form just fine.
"And what of the fledgling necromancer?" I asked.
"What necromancer?" Sayers snapped, and my heart sank.
I placed my spoon down, suddenly done with the desserts before I'd really begun. What a waste.
I couldn't tell if the sorcerer was lying or not. But he hadn't gotten up and left when I'd started interrogating him, and I wasn't sure why.
Sayers tugged lightly and needlessly at the wrist of his suit jacket. Then he placed his hands flat on the table before him. I wasn't sure how to read his body language either.
The server dropped off Sayers' finger of Macallan and the sorcerer took it without saying a word. Then he nodded the server away and added water to the scotch.
"I don't feel like interrogating you any longer, Sayers," I said.
"Thank God," he answered.
"But you're still here."
"Your magic is still intriguing."
"Have you figured out what you want from me yet?"
He raised his eyebrow and grinned at me wolfishly. I raised my eyebrow back at him and waited. I didn't believe he was interested in me like that for one moment.
He looked away and sipped his drink.
Yep, no follow-through. Man, that bothered me. What was the point of innuendo and flirting that never led anywhere?
I was a downer tonight. I took a sip of the hot chocolate, then sucked all the melty whipped cream off the top. Ah, that was better.
"Are we back to the interrogation?" Sayers was trying to flirt... again.
"No. You're going to leave me to my desserts, which I am going to eat, because I do have follow-through." I dug into the cheesecake.
Sayers frowned. "You contacted me."
"Right, right. One of my friends will check in with you. You'll be home later on tonight, yes?" My mention of friends deepened Sayers' frown. I might be wrong about him knowing Sienna. Maybe he'd come to the hotel after getting my note because he'd spoken to Edmonds and Clark and wanted to meet me for himself. And by me, I meant Drake, of course. Because what sorcerer was interested in a dowser — a power they already had in a limited capacity — when an unknown and unusual Adept was in town?
Kandy or Kett would make quick work of Sayers. They could both pick out liars before the actual lie was out of their mouths — by heartbeat for Kett, and I presumed by scent for Kandy.
It was coming up on eleven o'clock. At 12:01 a.m., it would be November 9th. I didn't know if Sienna was in London. I didn't know how literal she was preparing to be, but I did know that we were walking distance from the Dorset Street site. Well, walking distance for us... Google Street View also informed me I had a warehouse and a parking garage to stake out. It would be easier to carry swords at night than by day as well.
All that was going to happen with or without Sayers' information... or lack of information.
"We've gotten off on the wrong foot," Sayers said.
"Have we? I'm not so sure."
"You asked me here —"
"I didn't, really. Not in a way that implied anything. If I'm wrong about you and Sienna, then I'm sure Edmonds or Clark filled you in... though maybe they didn't. Sorcerers don't seem big on sharing information." I looked to him for confirmation. He gave none, so I dug into the melon créme brûlée. It was too sweet. I relished every creamy bite.
"All right," I continued. "Here's the gist. My sister, a black witch in a blood frenzy, might be in London to raise some demons, even though logically she shouldn't be able to raise them. She kidnapped a friend of mine — a fledgling necromancer under my protection. And I will kick any ass in my path to get the fledgling back... unharmed."
Sayers opened his mouth, but I stopped him once more.
"Oh, and Sienna needs a sorcerer's power to do all this. Binding is her specialty. So if you do see her, turn the other way."
"Or she'll kill me?" Sayers asked mockingly.
Stupid, stupid sorcerers.
"Yeah, eventually. My ice cream is melting."
"I enjoy watching you eat."
"Oh, please. This is done. It never began."
Sayers lost his smile in a way that let me know it wasn't going to return. I could see him better without it, but I still couldn't quite tell what put me off about him. Was it just the diffuser he wore that bothered me? Had I blown this all out of proportion? Should I apologize?
Kett slipped into the lounge. His pace was oddly languid and yet deliberate... as if he might be drunk but hiding it. Vampires didn't get drunk, though. At least I didn't think they did.
Sayers turned to follow my gaze, but Kett closed the space between the entrance and the table before the sorcerer had fully looked behind his own shoulder. He flinched to find Kett standing next to him.
"Jade Godfrey," Kett whispered. Then he smiled in a way that sent a not-unpleasant chill down my spine.
Oh, shit.
"Kett," I said as pleasantly as possible. "You haven't met Peter Sayers. Importer/exporter."
"Pleased to meet —" Sayers began.
Kett stepped past the sorcerer, showing him his back, and stood alongside me. He reached down and touched his cool fingers to my inner wrist.
"Are you drunk?" I hissed.
"Are you?" Kett asked in return.
"No."
"Unfortunate." He dropped my wrist and stepped behind me, facing Sayers again. I really wasn't a fan of having an apparently drunk vampire behind my back, knowing he lusted after my blood — however cool and reservedly.
Sayers stared, open-mouthed, at Kett. I finished the coffee ice cream sundae.
We probably could have stayed like that — me eating my desserts and Kett and Sayers facing off — for the next hour, except my phone pinged.
I had a text message from Kandy.
_Heading back._
I looked up at Sayers. "We're heading out now," I said. "Please don't get yourself killed. I know I've been oddly rude, but please don't ignore my warning."
"He's not powerful enough for your sister to take notice," Kett murmured.
"He's wearing a diffuser," I said, downing the last of my hot chocolate in one long swig. I could feel the sugar starting to course through my bloodstream. Soon, I'd be jittery with it. Good.
"Is he?" Kett's tone grew more intense and focused.
Sayers swallowed, just once. I gathered that he would have preferred to go unnoticed by the vampire.
"Why would you wear a diffuser to meet a dowser, sorcerer?" Kett asked.
"I'm fairly certain he's already met Sienna," I said as I ran my spoon around the depths of the sundae glass.
"That would make it an even odder choice," Kett said.
"Would it?" I asked. "Maybe I'm wrong. In any case, if he hasn't met her, we've warned him."
"And if he has met her and he's still alive, then his power is not what Sienna wants," Kett added.
We both looked at Sayers closer — at his magic, specifically. The sorcerer stared back at us, mouth still agape as we continued to discuss him as if he wasn't actually in the room.
"It would be nice to know for sure if Sienna is in town," I mused.
"I could take him back to the suite," Kett offered. His cool tone was completely nonthreatening, and yet the biting-to-extract-information implication was very clear.
"We'll know soon enough," I said as I stood, satisfied that I'd done justice to the decadent desserts. I wasn't so sure what was up with Kett and the vampires of London. Adding 'biting sorcerers' to any list of wrongdoings we were about to commit — if we were to confront Sienna — probably wasn't a great idea.
I walked away from the table and finally got the rise I'd been waiting for out of Sayers. Magic bloomed around his wrists, where he'd earlier tugged at his jacket sleeves. I hadn't been able to identify any specific magical objects on him before, because of the diffuser he also wore somewhere on his person. But he couldn't hide the magic he was triggering now — diffuser or no diffuser.
As Sayers stood to follow me — or perhaps to attack me — I turned into him. Wrapping my fingers around each of his wrists — over his suit jacket, so he wouldn't be able to lift his hands — I leaned into him as if we were kissing goodbye. That last part was for the benefit of the server and bartender.
"You don't want to cast against me," I whispered in his ear. Sayers twisted against my hold. I applied just a little more pressure and he winced. Yeah, I was strong... for just a dowser. "If you actively use these bracelets against me, then I have the right to relieve you of them. It's sort of my job."
"Is it?" Kett asked. He stood behind and slightly to the side of Sayers. Though he was about two inches shorter than the sorcerer, I could still clearly see his ice-blue eyes.
"Well," I answered. "It will be."
"Interesting."
"I have no idea what the hell you are talking about," Sayers said.
"Do you want me to take the bracelets, and the diffuser for that matter, or not?" I was still smiling prettily for the server's and bartender's benefit.
"No," the sorcerer answered begrudgingly. The magic of the bracelets he wore dimmed. I didn't know what spell he'd been calling up, but it felt like I wouldn't have liked it at all. No wonder Gran loathed sorcerers... in her entirely polite Canadian way. I let go of Sayers.
"Do you know Sienna or not?" I asked.
"No," Sayers answered as he rubbed his wrists.
I glanced up at Kett and he frowned. I took that to mean Sayers was actually telling the truth.
"I apologize then," I said as I stepped away. "Thank you for coming to see us. Please be wary over the next few days."
Sayers nodded and I turned away to sign the bill at the bar. A 12.5 percent tip was included, but I added another 10 percent.
Kett had a few more words with Sayers that I didn't bother trying to hear. Then the sorcerer hightailed it out of the lounge without another glance at me. I made more enemies than friends these days. It used to be the other way around... well, if I counted acquaintances as friends.
"Have a good evening," I said to the server.
"You as well, Jade," he replied.
Kett matched my step once I turned into the corridor to our suite. I had a feeling he'd stayed behind to make sure Sayers was out of the building.
"So..." I said. "You sober enough to go hunting?"
"Always," Kett replied.
"Tonight..."
"Yes?"
"Tonight we end this. If Sienna is there and Mory is in danger..."
"You'll pick protecting the fledgling over containing your sister."
"Yes."
"I won't."
I stopped in front of our suite door. The black-and-white-check carpeting was a plush cushion underneath my feet, even through the leather soles of my boots. "Is it cowardly of me to ask this of you?"
Kett's magic danced within his skin and in his eyes... every inch of him was magic, but I didn't... couldn't let it distract me.
"I will kill the witch if you cannot," Kett said.
I closed my eyes at the pain that bloomed in my chest — pain so coated in anger now that I couldn't distinguish between the two emotions anymore. "It should be me."
"Why? You're not responsible for your foster sister's actions, Jade Godfrey."
"I feel like I am."
"This is a human weakness you feel. Misplaced guilt. Do you not think she deserves to die?"
"Is this a conversation you're morally qualified to have, vampire?" I opened my eyes to meet his once again. "How many people have you killed just to live?"
Kett smiled. The gesture was tight on his face. "The difference is, I have not broken any laws... not since I was the one enforcing them. Sienna has, on multiple counts. And the number of deaths on my hands is not so large as you make it out to be."
"One is already too many."
Kett nodded and stepped back from our intimate huddle. I instantly felt bad. He was a vampire. I was pretty much condemning him for something utterly beyond his control. I knew that was naive.
"I will do it," I said. "I should be the one to see this through. But if I'm struck down or incapacitated —"
"I will step in and add to my tally. Which is already too long for your youthful morality, dowser."
"At least you won't be breaking the law." Sienna had been tried and convicted. Her life was forfeit and had been even before she'd learned to keep the powers that she stole from those she murdered. She already had five bodies on her tally, as the vampire called it — including Hudson, Rusty, Jeremy, and two other werewolves — and those were only the ones I knew about.
"But I would for you, Jade." With a terrible sadness, Kett brushed his fingers across my cheek and then stepped into the suite so quickly I almost didn't see him go.
Something was really up with the vampire. He wouldn't tell me what it was until it was past necessary for me to know. I just hoped we got out of London before whatever he was worried about also became an issue for the rest of us.
# 9
Kandy hadn't returned to the hotel by the time we were ready to go. We texted the werewolf our destination and then set out on foot. The balmy night had cleared enough I could see a few stars, despite the reflected lights of the city. It was a lovely evening for a walk, except for the hunting and potentially slaughtering my sister part.
As we neared our destination, we circled the two outer blocks twice to dowse for magical activity. There wasn't any. So it was just after midnight on November 9th when Kett, Drake, and I turned onto Duval Street, aka the former Dorset Street.
"Millar's Court was entered through a passageway between numbers twenty-six and twenty-seven, before it was demolished in 1920 to make way for a new fruit market," Kett said.
I glanced over at the vampire — making sure to constantly keep the overly excited Drake in my peripheral vision — to note that his magic was actually glowing within his skin. It should have been dimmed by the fact that the street was well lit.
"Did you read the wiki page, or is that a firsthand accounting?" I teased.
Kett gifted my brilliant repartee with a quirk of his lips.
Drake stepped out of my field of vision and I snagged him back by his hoodie. The hood pulled back from his dark-haired head and exposed the hilt of his sword, which he wore underneath. The gold of the hilt caught and refracted the overhead street light back at me. Drake grinned over his shoulder and dutifully fell into step beside me.
"I don't see a fruit market," I said. The north side of the street was dominated by what looked like offices over warehouse storage. A five-storey open-air parking lot occupied the south side. Each level of the structure looked like a long stretch of balcony, with white aluminum railings and everything. That was odd. Maybe the parked cars liked to have a view?
I paused midway down the block. Kett slipped into the shadows to my left and dampened his cool peppermint magic further. Drake, all honey and almond magic, placed his back to mine, as we'd practiced in training so many times now. Behind me, his magic was muted from my dowser senses... well, as muted as dragon magic could ever be. But this placement, along with how familiar I was to the taste of his magic, helped me focus ahead and around me.
I used my eyes first, noting the small brass plaque on the door to my left. "Importing/Exporting. Now who do I know who supposedly makes a living doing that?" I asked rhetorically.
"Sayers," Kett replied. His voice was just a breath of wind, but Drake and I could hear him perfectly well.
"Yep. You'd think one of the other sorcerers might have mentioned he keeps offices near the site of the Dorset Summoning." I turned to look up at the parking lot across from me. I couldn't taste any other magic nearby. I would have thought London would be full of magic. Glimmers, at least, or people who maybe didn't even know they were a quarter or an eighth magical. But it wasn't. Centuries of humanity dominated here, perhaps whitewashing all the natural magic in its wake.
"This was a stupid guess," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else, even though the other two could hear me just fine. "This is too complicated for Sienna. If it's even possible. She's probably in Barbados. We always wanted to go there..."
It was anger, not pain that stopped me up. So much anger it squeezed the air out of my lungs. Sienna and I had plans. We'd loved life... together. At least that was what I thought. How had it gotten so far astray? With me in London, vampire and dragon in tow, hunting my sister? My best friend?
Magic — bitter dark chocolate and something smoother, closer to semisweet chocolate but not so bland — came from the parallel street, opposite the direction of the hotel.
"Kandy and her Nordic werewolf, Jorgen," I murmured, right before they jogged into view.
Kandy tucked her chin — she'd previously been sniffing the air — and glared in our direction. Jorgen was grinning, maybe a little manically.
"Well, the good guys are all here," Drake said. "Time for the bad guys to show and try to outnumber us."
"This isn't a movie, Drake," I said.
"We doubled back. Didn't smell anything," Kandy said as she and Jorgen jaywalked across the street.
"Us as well," I said. "There's nothing here. Just go back to your —"
Then I tasted it... just a hint of magic... dark, oily, blood-soaked earth magic.
"Sienna," I breathed. "There." I slowly lifted my hand to point across the street.
"The car park?" Kett asked.
Jorgen flinched. He hadn't known a vampire was hiding in the shadows.
"Odd," Kett murmured. "I would have thought that the warehouse was closer to the historic location."
"Which floor?" Kandy asked.
"I have no idea," I said. "Why can't I taste her more clearly?"
"She's in a protection circle as before?" Kett asked, stepping out of the shadows and startling Jorgen even more. His wolf momentarily rippled across his face and hands, teeth and claws appearing and disappearing in the same breath. Well, that was cool in a completely amped-up freaky way.
"No," I said in response to Kett. "Wouldn't I taste the magic of the circle?" I wrapped the fingers of my left hand through the wedding rings on my necklace, and set my right hand at the hilt of my invisible jade knife. This often helped focus my dowsing magic, but I didn't need it this time. The hint I'd caught before bloomed on its own.
"She's here," I said. I darted across the street, but then realizing the magic was continuing to build, I cried out.
"Down!"
We all flattened ourselves as magic exploded out of the parking lot.
"What is it?" Drake asked. "Has she summoned the demons?"
"No," I answered, peering around the garbage can I'd crouched behind and feeling rather stupid. "Just... um... fog."
"What?" Kandy snapped. We all straightened to stare at the fog that now filled the balconies of the parking garage.
"Sorcerer," Kett spat. Yeah, that was a big reaction from the vampire, but I'm guessing Blackwell's fog spell was an unpleasant memory.
"Not that kind of fog," I said.
With the other four at my heels, I crossed to the entrance of the lot to get a closer look.
"I think I left my oven on," Jorgen blurted, and then spun away.
"What?" Kandy asked, grabbing his arm.
"My oven," the blond werewolf repeated. He tugged his arm against Kandy's grip.
"Perimeter spell," Kett said. "To keep the magically lacking away."
Kandy slapped Jorgen across the face.
The werewolf shook his head and then grinned. "Thanks."
"What is that?" I asked, pointing to a line drawn perpendicular to my feet. "Sand?" The fog was neatly contained on the other side of the line.
Jorgen hunkered down to sniff the sand. "Not beach," he said.
"Break the line, break the spell?" I asked Kett hopefully.
He shook his head, but didn't share his thoughts.
"I can't see through the fog," I said. "Kandy?"
"Me neither."
"Kett?"
"No," the vampire answered reluctantly.
I reached up, palm forward, and extended my hand beyond the sand line and into the fog without resistance. "Not a ward, but..."
"But?" Drake prompted.
"I can't taste anything beyond the fog. Like all the magic I felt before is diffused now. Evenly distributed through every molecule of fog or something."
"Distributed?" Kett asked.
"Yeah, I can taste magic all around. But I can't distinguish the tastes or pinpoint where the magic is emanating from. Nor can I grab or hold it, which means I can't channel it into the sword."
I turned to look at Kett with an irritated smile.
"Impressive spell," he acknowledged.
"Yep, made specifically for me. And Sienna wouldn't bother cloaking her activities, so I tipped our hand somehow. I'm sorry." This fog spell was obviously the work of a sorcerer who knew my powers, and I'd rather flagrantly displayed my dowsing ability to three sorcerers today. If one of them hadn't been in league with Sienna then, they were now.
"We saw a similar type of magic this evening," Kett said.
"Sayers' diffusing spell, or magical object, or whatever."
"We shouldn't have bothered warning anyone," Kandy spat. "Then they wouldn't have known we were coming."
"I didn't know you were coming at all," I said.
"I said I was." Kandy turned her glare from the fog to me.
I looked over her shoulder at Jorgen. "This isn't a great idea for a first date. What's in this fog could get you killed."
"In the fog itself?" the Nordic werewolf asked.
"No, it seems harmless enough." I swirled my hand within the entrance. I knew there should be a ticket booth and a gate about a car length ahead, but I couldn't see it. "But the black witch has only one reason to be here. She's going to try to raise three demons."
Jorgen smiled manically. "Sounds like fun."
Kandy laughed.
"You talk too much, warrior's daughter," Drake said. Then he stepped into the fog.
"Damn it, Drake," I cried after him. "We need some sort of plan."
"Kandy and Jorgen," Kett said. "First floor, west to east. I'll take the second. Drake and Jade start at the third. We meet together at the fourth and continue together to the top, unless one of us finds something before that." Kett followed Drake into the fog.
"No, splitting up is a bad idea," I said. Kett didn't respond. "And that's only half a plan! What happens if we do run into something and we've split up?"
"Looks like the fog was going to separate us anyway," Kandy said. "This way we won't be worried we've lost each other. See you at the top." She and Jorgen were swallowed by the fog as soon as they moved beyond the sand barrier line. And I was alone for the third time since stepping out of the portal.
I waited for screams, but none came. I waited to see if I could feel the magic of my friends moving through the fog. If I could feel Sienna's magic again... but it had been such a brief taste. What if I was wrong?
"Well, Jade," I said out loud. "Something magical is happening here either way. Why not wade in... it's what you do best anyway." Great... now I was talking to myself.
Drake reached out of the fog, grabbed my left wrist, and pulled me over the sand barrier.
Well, that was one way to make a decision.
I could barely see anything within the fog, nor could I taste any magic other than the diluted strains that floated all around me. It was as if the fog spell took all the Adepts within its borders, mixed their magic together, and then diffused it throughout the parking lot structure.
"I don't even like breathing in here," I muttered.
"So don't breathe," Drake said.
Helpful, wasn't he?
"The stairs are over here." The fledgling guardian tugged me farther through the fog to the right. He opened the door to the stairs so swiftly that it crashed into my shoulder.
"Ouch! Watch it, Drake!"
"Sorry, didn't see you there."
"You're holding my hand!"
"Yeah, not your shoulder, though."
I sighed, realizing as I did so that in that frustrated expulsion of air, I sounded exactly like my Gran. Damn it.
I pushed past Drake and headed up the stairs.
The fog was thinner in the stairwell, as if it had only gotten in because we'd opened the door. "The fog must have spread out from one place," I said.
"Can you track that?"
"Probably not."
We rounded the stairwell to see a giant number one painted on a blue door.
"The door on the ground floor was green," Drake said.
"Great. Now you won't forget where we parked our car."
"At the hotel. And the valet parked it, not —"
"I was being sarcastic."
"I don't get it."
"It's all right."
The third floor was indicated by a giant number two on a red door. Yeah, the Brits were weird when it came to counting floors.
"Ah, I see. The red line on the floor stops here. As the blue line did at the second floor."
"Yep," I said as I placed my hands on the door and tried to sense any magic from the other side of it. "I've got nothing." Damn, this was frustrating. I didn't realize how much I'd started to rely on my dowsing senses until they were gone. "It would be nice to have a witch around," I said.
"To counter the fog spell?"
"Yeah."
I flattened myself against the wall beside the door and Drake did the same next to me. Yeah, just like they did in the movies. I pulled my jade knife, switched it into my left hand — though I wasn't exactly ambidextrous — and awkwardly reached across to open the door with my right hand.
In one breath, Drake and I spun through the door, crouching low and to the sides. We waited. The fog was thicker again. I could no longer see Drake. The door snapped shut behind us. Nothing else moved or sounded out. Everything was muffled by the fog.
Think. Think. Think. Wandering in the fog was just plain stupid, but I couldn't channel its magic into my sword because I couldn't feel the source of the spell. I was also worried I might end up trying to pull all the fog's diffused magic — Drake, Kett, Kandy, and Jorgen included — into my sword. If that was even possible.
"A fan would be great," I muttered. I peeled myself away from the door and stepped sideways — hand extended — along the wall. "I figure we can follow the wall around the entire floor, back to the door we came out of."
"Okay," Drake said, far too agreeably. I grabbed the back of his hoodie and continued moving. We found the first car right after we hit the white aluminum railing I'd seen from the street, which made sense. Drake leaned over the railing, legs in the air, as he stuck his head out through the fog.
"Can you see?"
"Yes. It's clear here like it was at the entrance."
I crouched down and looked closer at the bottom of the railing. The line of sand appeared there as well. "It must have taken hours to set up this spell," I murmured. Hours that overlapped Sayers chatting in the hotel lounge with me? Maybe I'd been wrong. Or had he spent all day setting the spell, then come to the hotel?
I resisted the urge to scrape away the sand to see if that would release the spell. I was terrified by the thought that a fog like this would just spread and spread until it enveloped the entire city, and then country, perhaps only caged in by the ocean.
Then we'd really need witches, and it would be my foolish, foolhardy fault. "Not this time," I muttered to myself. Then to Drake, I asked, "Anyone on the street?"
"No. The perimeter spell must be keeping the humans away," he answered, then pulled his head back in from over the railing. "There are two floors above us."
"Great," I said, continuing along the white railing in front of a long line of cars, front bumper after front bumper. This must be long-term or overnight parking.
As we neared what I guessed was the center front of the parking lot, I thought I heard something. I paused and lost Drake as he took off in a swirl of fog. Damn it, I'd loosened my hold on him when I crouched to check the sand.
I was going to have to follow him. His hearing was better than mine, so obviously the noise meant something to him.
Knife drawn and back in my proper hand, I darted forward between two cars. I crossed the center lane and stepped between two other cars, which were parked facing the other direction.
Then I nearly fell through the center of the building.
Well, that was an exaggeration. I would have had to leap a four-foot-high concrete wall to fall through, but it was still a shock. The parking lot was built in a rectangular spiral that left the center open through all five storeys, a space about twelve feet across.
Of course, that wasn't as much of a shock as seeing Edmonds suspended in the air directly in front of us, three storeys up. He was held by thick ropes that formed a pentagram, lashed to the columns in the very middle of the open well at the heart of the building.
The fog was thinner here, but I still couldn't see more than a few feet below or above Edmonds. I guessed I could only see the unconscious sorcerer because whatever spell coated the ropes of the pentagram also kept the fog spell at bay. He looked way younger than his forty plus years and vulnerable without his tortoise-shell glasses or elbow patches.
Drake stepped out of the fog to my left. He was walking along the edge of the short wall that had stopped me from falling through the center of the building, as if he'd just circled the perimeter.
"I can't tell if he's alive," the fledgling guardian said. His voice was unnaturally grim.
"He's alive." As I watched the too-pale sorcerer, I saw his chest slowly rise and fall.
"Spelled?"
"Most likely. As is the rope."
"So we cut the ropes and free the sorcerer."
"Right. Except we don't know if the spell is anchored here or below or above. Also, we don't know that if we cut the rope, we won't trigger the spell." I called to Edmonds. "Ummm, Professor? Professor, can you hear me?"
The spelled sorcerer didn't respond.
I narrowed my eyes and desperately tried to anchor my dowsing senses in my necklace and knife. I thought I could see a line of magic running up and down from Edmonds, as if bisecting him through his heart. "Do you see that?" I asked Drake. "That line of magic, blue-black? There! When the fog shifts?"
He peered where I indicated, but then shook his head.
"Okay," I said, preparing to come up with some plan. I was way, way out of my depth here, and feeling just as lost in the fog as was intended. I didn't think my next confrontation with my sister would go like this... I thought I had prepared, trained.
I peered up and then down over the short concrete wall and through the ropes, but I couldn't see the next floors. I looked at the concrete pillars on either side of me, to which the pentagram was lashed. They were smooth and free of handholds, which made total sense safety-wise but was still a bitch. Drake might be able to jump up from floor to floor. Hell, the fledgling might be able to jump off the top floor and land without hurting himself, but I couldn't. Not without seeing where I was going, at least.
"Back to the stairs?" I didn't like leaving Edmonds, but I also wasn't sure I could rescue him without finding the origin of the spell. "The source is probably on the first floor, where they could actually anchor it to the earth. At least, that's how witch magic would work." But if it was, then Kandy and Jorgen would find it — if they could sense the magic once they got near enough, despite the diffusion of the fog spell. I pulled out my cellphone, half-heartedly hoping it worked in the fog. It didn't. I sighed. "Or it's a series of pentagrams suspended over open air from here to the top floor."
"You've seen this magic before?" Drake asked as we cut through the fog directly west, or maybe it was east, to find the door. I assumed there was a second stairwell at the opposite side from which we'd come, so either direction worked. They'd both lead up. The car bumpers made it a little easier to find our path through the fog quickly.
"No," I replied. "I'm just guessing. Three demons, three pentagrams."
"All with sorcerers in them."
"I hope not."
"Your sister is powerful enough to capture or compel three sorcerers?"
"I hope not."
We found the stairs to the fourth floor and headed up. Thankfully, Drake kept his mouth shut — and kept to himself his dragon philosophy about the futility of hoping for something you already knew wasn't possible.
For a moment, as we approached the center of the fourth floor, I was able to hope I was wrong about my multiple-pentagrams-all-connected-by-a-single-spell theory.
Then, with my hands set on the low concrete wall as I peered ahead, the fog parted and I saw Clark spread-eagled and trussed up in a roped pentagram suspended across the open air, directly above Edmonds. Not that I could see Edmonds below.
For some reason, seeing the older man strung up like that — his comb-over fallen to the wrong side of his head — made me even angrier. It was so undignified. So unbelievable that my sister would come into London and treat people like pieces on her own personal chessboard.
"Pawns," Drake said, stepping out from the fog after walking the perimeter of the concrete wall.
"What?"
"Like pawns on a chessboard."
"Was I talking out loud?"
"Yeah. You do that a lot."
Shit. "Is the pentagram set up the same way?" I shelved the discussion of my sanity for later, but was really hoping I didn't have entire conversations out loud. Especially not conversations with my sister.
"Looks like it. Tied to columns at five points. Magic on the rope."
"No fog within, though," I said.
"So the pentagram is sealed with a spell?"
"Above and below, I think. And the same column of magic rises out from Clark. See directly above and below his heart?"
I could see the deep blue line more clearly now. Either I was more in tune with the magic, now that I knew what to look for, or the fog was dissipating.
Drake shook his head. Not counting the exceptional power of Pulou the treasure keeper, all dragons could see or feel magic, and the fledgling was able to identify specific types of Adept easily. My dowsing abilities seemed to be connected to my witch magic more than my dragon side, though.
I peered upward but couldn't see to the next level. "Want to bet on door number three?"
"Four," Drake answered. "We're going to the fifth floor next, right? The doors were numbered from the ground floor up."
"I meant... never mind. It was on the edge of sick and twisted anyway. Door number four it is."
Except it wasn't Sayers as I thought it would be, strung out in the pentagram within the empty space of the fifth floor.
It was Mory.
The fog had parted as it had each time we'd neared the well. Drake stepped up on the ledge to walk the perimeter, just as I laid eyes on the fledgling necromancer.
Mory wasn't spread-eagled and tied into the rope pentagram like Edmonds and Clark. Her hands and ankles were trussed with what looked like the same rope, but she was perched with her legs cradled to her chest in the center of the pentagram. She wore the necklace I'd made to protect her from malicious magic. Unfortunately, it didn't prevent kidnapping.
"Mory!" I cried.
The black-swathed, army-boot-wearing, pale-skinned fifteen-year-old scowled at me. "Stealthy, Jade," she said.
"Where's Sienna? What's going on?"
"What does it look like, duh?"
"Hello, necromancer," Drake said cheerfully as he crouched on the four-foot wall beside me.
Mory's hair dye had grown out two inches or so. The lavender tips were washed out and scraggly. She looked like she hadn't eaten since I'd last fed her. My heart constricted, and for a moment, I couldn't speak past the pain of it. I thought the feeling might be joy, but I didn't remember joy hurting so much before. "I thought... I worried..."
"Yeah, well, maybe I would have been better off dead," the teenager said.
"She's not a happy person," Drake said.
"She's a necromancer," I answered.
"I see." Drake nodded, projecting Chi Wen's sage quality again.
"Who the hell are you?" Mory snapped.
"Drake," the fledgling guardian replied with a wide grin. "Jade's friend."
Mory's scowl deepened. "Good luck with that, Drake." The necromancer managed to make the thirteen-year-old's name sound like a curse word.
Yeah, teenaged angst at its worst. Thank God she was okay.
"We're going to cut her down," I said.
"But you said —"
"I know, but —"
"You aren't going to cut her down." Kett's voice came out of the fog to my left. Drake actually flinched. I felt the proximity of the life debt bond Kett owed me a second before the vampire spoke. Even the fog couldn't dissipate that, it seemed.
Kett stepped forward to observe Mory like she was a bug caught in his web.
"Great," Mory groused. "You brought the vampire."
"He's been hunting for you for three months, Mory."
"Actually," Kett said, "I've been looking for the witch."
"Whatever," Mory snapped. "Took you all way too long. And now if you cut these ropes, we all die. And if you don't cut these ropes, we all die. Or some sorcerer shit like that."
"Sayers."
"Who knows, some guy. She found him online. They don't talk in front of me."
"So we counter the spell," I said, turning to Kett.
He nodded. "It's anchored on the first floor."
"But if we cut the anchor..."
"This all collapses."
"So we still need the source."
"Try the roof, morons," Mory said.
I took a deep breath. "Where are Kandy and Jorgen?"
"I sent Jorgen for reinforcements. Kandy is with Edmonds."
"Three witches would be nice."
"We'll have to settle for werewolves. If they get here quickly enough."
I peered up and saw hints of the starry night sky. The fog was thinning the closer we got to open air.
Magic thrummed through the ropes of the pentagram.
Mory gasped and scrambled to her feet. She was now standing in the very center of the pentagram, which as I'd suspected was sealed from below. She looked across at me with wide eyes, all her belligerence washed away by fear. "She... she... can't drain me because of the necklace."
The fledgling necromancer twined her fingers around the necklace resting on her collarbone. I'd made this necklace specifically to protect Mory from Sienna, and from Mory's brother Rusty. Or his ghost, rather. His spectral energy or whatever he was. The necklace was presumably also the reason the necromancer wasn't sleep spelled like the two other sorcerers. I imagined that Sienna had deliberately left Mory ungagged. It was just another twisted way of hurting me further. This time with Mory's own words.
"But she can siphon off bits of my magic," Mory continued. "She thinks she has enough now, and that with the anniversary date and the location, she can raise and control those demons with the knife that raised them before."
"This isn't even the correct location," Kett said.
"All that matters now is what Sienna thinks is true," I said. "And what she's willing to do to make something happen. Drake, stay with Mory." I turned into the fog.
"Jade!" Mory cried after me.
I turned back. "You're not going to die today, Mory. I'm sorry I left you before. I'm really glad you're alive, even if you hate me forever. But you're not going to die today."
To Drake, I added: "If the spell comes down before I neutralize Sienna, or Sayers, whoever is casting — you cut the rope."
Drake nodded. He pulled his broadsword out in a flash of gold that I could see clearly despite the fog.
"No," I said, "with this." For the first time since I'd crafted it, I willfully handed over my jade knife to another person.
Drake took the blade with reverence. He nodded solemnly.
"No, Jade," Mory said. "If you cut the rope, the spell will backlash and everyone might die."
"Not Drake, Mory. Magic can't kill him. He is magic." I sounded way more sure of myself than I actually was. "Drake, you cut the rope, you grab Mory, and you head for the nearest portal."
Drake frowned and started to protest.
"Not for you," I said. "For Mory."
He nodded.
I turned away, not sure whether my knife could even get through the spell on the rope while it was in Drake's hands. The fog prevented me from fully assessing the magic of the pentagram. The knife had cut through Blackwell's wards, though, so all I could do was hope.
Because I couldn't send anyone else after Sienna. I was the only one who could resist her magic... unless she had new tricks and new magic. Then she was going to kick my ass. Though I also had a shiny new sword, so maybe we'd be even.
"You take the sorcerer," I said to the fog, knowing that Kett was somewhere near. "Unless he's casting. Then I will take him." I felt naked without my knife, but at least I still had my katana. This was my sword's destiny, after all.
"As you desire, warrior's daughter," the vampire replied from out of the fog. He sounded far too pleased. But then, I was still in denial about that part of me. The part that wanted to kick Sienna's ass way more than I wanted cupcakes, chocolate, or pretty new trinkets.
My sister brought out the darkness in me.
# 10
I stepped out onto the roof of the parking lot. It was completely open to the night air, and the fog was thicker around my knees than my head. Which was good, because I was going to need my eyes.
Sienna was waiting for me. She and Sayers were standing in a roped pentagram rigged at the top of the parking lot's central open well.
It hurt to look at Sienna with her bulging black veins and inky eyes. She wore a fabric bag slung across a tattered cloak. She was going for bag-lady chic now. I was also unhappy to note that she was wearing what looked like three of my trinkets. I hoped she'd had a stash, because I really didn't like thinking that she'd gone back to Vancouver for them. Sayers was still in the suit, which made it more obvious he'd come directly here from the hotel. I guess the sorcerer had wanted a look at me before he tried to kill me. I couldn't figure out if that was polite or insanely rude.
Sayers, as best as I could see, was putting the final touches on the pentagram spell, because unlike the three below us, it wasn't sealed. Within the thinned fog, I could taste the sorcerer's sugared Earl Grey essence and Sienna's old blood-drenched earth magic.
I tamped down on this nausea-inducing combination, and — just for a moment — wished I hadn't given my knife to Drake. I had a clear shot at Sienna, but I couldn't throw the katana slung across my back the way I could throw my jade knife.
"Hello, sister," Sienna said. She was holding the sacrificial knife she'd used to kill Jeremy. The anger that had been on a low simmer in my belly now ramped up, until I felt like my heart might be on fire.
I didn't have any witty words. I didn't want to trade quips with my evil best friend. I just wanted this to be over, over, over.
Kett stepped into my peripheral vision. Sienna's black-lipped smile widened at the sight of the vampire. This stretched the black veins snaking across her face in such a way that my belly rolled with a different kind of queasiness, but I didn't look away.
"Back for more, vampire?" Sienna purred. Then she snapped her teeth at him. Yeah, that was my sister now, cheesy and evil. In a strange reversal of roles, she had drunk Kett's blood in the basement of my bakery six months ago...
Wait.
Blood.
Sienna's blood spreading across the altar in the vision Chi Wen shared with me...
"Don't drink her blood," I hissed to Kett.
He furrowed his brow.
I could clearly remember Kett slumped off to the side of the cave in Chi Wen's vision, as if it was my own memory. But what could possibly kill — or at least incapacitate — the vampire in that version of the future?
"I saw... I was shown something," I said, sorting quickly through my thoughts. Sienna had cocked her head to one side as if trying to hear our conversation.
"In the nexus?" Kett asked with an involuntary shiver. Yeah, vampire and dragon magic really didn't mix.
"Yes, by the far seer."
Kett nodded as he slipped off into the fog to my left. It hardly even swirled in his wake. I reached for my sword, pushing Chi Wen's vision — and the way Sienna's black blood had spilled from her body and mixed into the blood of my loved ones — out of my mind. I focused on the tip of the sword as I brought it forward to point at Sienna.
Three leaps — now that I could vaguely see where I was going — was all it took to cross the space between my sister and me. I pulled the sword back over my head, ready to strike. And for a moment, right before I tried to lop her head off, I held Sienna's surprised gaze.
Yeah, I could come up with new tricks in three and a half months as well. Like speed and strength and a shiny new sword.
Sienna threw up her hands. Black magic sparked between them, but she was too late.
Still in midair, I swung the sword, twisting it slightly right over my shoulder and across.
I hit a magical barrier.
Sayers had sealed off the pentagram.
My katana crashed against the ward in a multicolored flare of magic, which threw me — still twisted in strike pose — back the way I'd come.
I slammed into a parked car fifteen feet away, blowing out its windshield and caving in its roof with my landing.
Ouch.
Sienna was laughing, though I couldn't see her as I was once again swallowed in fog.
"Pretty sword, Jadey!" she cried as she clapped her hands.
I peeled myself off the crushed car, glass tinkling to the concrete all around me. I felt badly for the owner. Hopefully his insurance covered acts of God, because I wasn't sure how else he'd explain it.
I crouched low beside the passenger-side front tire — noting it had exploded — and placed the flat edge of my blade across my left wrist. I held the sword close to my eyes in an attempt to examine it in the fog. It seemed unscathed.
"You okay, sis?" Sienna called, which confirmed she couldn't see me in the fog either.
I sheathed the sword over my shoulder and ran through a quick series of downward dogs and planks to make sure I hadn't broken any bones. Any aches sustained from the magical backlash and my trashing the car eased.
"We need her to trigger the spell," Sayers hissed. I could hear him clearly through the fog.
I eased forward, staying in my crouch, and made my way back to the pentagram.
"I know, sorcerer," Sienna spat. "It's my idea, isn't it?"
"But I had to seal the pentagram prematurely. We have to drop and then reinitialize the spell."
I started laughing. Then I laughed some more. I'd seen fewer cars on the roof than below, but my laughter hit and bounced off all of them to reverberate through the fog.
"I warned you, Sayers," I said. Then I laughed again.
Somewhere on the other side of the pentagram, hidden within the fog, Kett started laughing. Dear God, I hoped I didn't sound quite as creepy as he did. I was seriously glad he was on my side tonight, because that laugh was going to haunt my dreams.
"Shut up!" Sienna screamed. She always did have a low breaking point. Once sealed in the pentagram, I assumed that she and Sayers wouldn't be able to cast outward, so screaming was all she could do to Kett and me.
"She played you, Sayers," I called out as I stepped around another car. I could feel Kett doing the same on the other side of the pentagram, through the life debt bond and through his magic. The fog wasn't diffusing that magic as much up here on the roof. "She had no intention of triggering the spell with my blood."
"What is she —" Sayers began.
"Shut your stupid hole, Jade," Sienna said. "You're just embarrassing yourself, again. Don't listen to her."
For some reason, Kett found this doubly amusing. His laughter ramped up accordingly.
I rose out of the fog, facing Sayers, who'd moved to the final point of the pentagram when he'd sealed the spell. If there hadn't been a ward between us, I could have reached out and smacked him.
He flinched at my appearance. I raised a finger to my lips and smiled at him. This confused him, as it should have.
Sienna was standing with her back to us. Her lips were moving as she bowed her head over the original copy of Blackwell's book.
She was already starting the ritual.
I tried a bit of sign language with Sayers. I tapped my ear and then my chest — 'Listen to me.'
I brought my hands up in the universal shrug meaning 'Why?' Then I showed him four fingers. Why four? Why four pentagrams, I meant, for three demons?
Sayers' confusion deepened.
Stupid freaking sorcerers.
Sienna marked her place in the book with the sacrificial knife, then put the book in her fabric bag. Up close, the bag was actually just a burlap sack tied at the two upper corners with rope. This... this was baffling from a girl who'd once put a Louis Vuitton bag on layaway for over a year, and then slept on my couch so she didn't have to pay rent at the same time.
A little more frantically now, I gestured toward Sayers — 'You' — then slashed my hand in the air and pointed at my chest again — 'Not me.'
You not me.
"What?" Sayers asked.
"Jesus Christ," I snapped as I watched Sienna spin around. "You stupid freaking sorcerer. Four pentagrams for three demons?"
"The fourth triggers the spell —"
"No, idiot. A sorcerer triggers a spell... or a black witch with the powers of a sorcerer. This pentagram is for her spell. You know, for when she drains your magic. Duck, asshole."
Sayers ducked as Sienna lunged toward him with a small switchblade she'd had hidden in her cloak.
The sorcerer spun away but got his foot caught on the ropes of the pentagram. The spell sealed it from underneath, but the thick rope was still difficult to walk on.
"Been taking your smarty-pants pills, hey Jadey?" Sienna sneered.
_It doesn't take much intelligence to outsmart you_ was on the tip of my tongue, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to address her. I didn't want to treat her like a person.
As Sayers fell, he raised his hands, muttered something under his breath, and cast a spell. I still couldn't taste the magic, but I could see it. The unknown spell hit Sienna, slamming her back against the ward that kept her just out of my reach.
Sayers scrambled to his feet as Sienna fell to her knees.
Kett rose out of the fog beside me. "It was smart to play them off each other," he said.
"Excuse me?" I answered in mock surprise. "Did you just compliment me?"
Kett leveled a cool I'm-not-amused look at me. I grinned back.
The black witch and the sorcerer continued to do battle within the pentagram.
"She'll kill him eventually," Kett said.
"Yeah. We need to counter the connection to the other pentagrams before that. I gather we can't do it the same way we did in the cave?" Kett and I had collapsed the pentagram in the Sea Lion Caves by using the magic in his blood as a catalyst, which I then triggered with my knife.
"No, not with four pentagrams tied together."
"If collapsing this one triggers the others, then we take them out of order. Get Mory out first?"
"You would kill Edmonds and Clark to rescue the necromancer?" Kett asked the question without judgement, but with a lot of curiosity.
"Okay, fine," I said.
Sayers had been holding his own, but Sienna's spells were hitting him harder and harder as the fight progressed.
"Sorcerer," I called. "Take down the ward. We'll spare your life."
Sienna slammed Sayers with her fireblood spell. He was able to scream, so I gathered it didn't hit him at full strength.
"We have to counter the ward," I hissed at Kett.
"Without witches at each pentagram —"
"Stop naysaying and come up with something."
"When the sorcerer dies, any spell solely constructed by him will fall as well."
I turned from glaring at Kett to watch Sienna looming over Sayers. He was dragging himself away from her, toward Kett and me. He was more than half dead already.
"Sienna," I said. "Stop this. I don't understand any of this. Why are you doing it? To what end?"
"Oh, so now you want to talk to me? Now you want to know why?" Sienna answered. "There is no 'Why.' No 'Because.' There is only today and then tomorrow. And tomorrow, I shall be more than I was today."
Sayers rolled over on his stomach, locked eyes with me, and reached for the point of the pentagram that I was closest to. Sienna yanked the sorcerer backward by his hair as his fingers brushed the point where the ropes intersected.
The ward fell.
Kett and I lunged forward just as Sienna slit Sayers throat.
Blood spurted across my face and chest. My sword was in my hands. I drew back to swing. Sienna's magic was everywhere. I could taste it as it swirled around Sayers, as if it might be lapping at the lifeblood pumping out of him.
My blade was inches from Sienna's neck as my foot landed on the top edge of the concrete wall.
Everything went black.
Sienna had trapped the wall.
Kett would have called this touch-triggered spell inspired. I just called it crazy painful, and was super pissed at myself for missing it within all the magic-diffusing fog and Sayers' magic literally gushing out of him.
I knew it was Sienna's work, because when I did finally wake — sprawled with my ass on the hood of another car and my head crammed against the short concrete footing of the exterior railing — her magic was all I could taste. Trigger-released spells not tied to a magical object, which I'm sure I would have sensed, were impressive. I mourned for the witch who had to die for Sienna to learn that trick.
I tried opening my eyes, but all I saw was black and pinpoints of light... then a flashing light? A plane. I was staring at the night sky.
I rolled off the car and just lay on the concrete for a while. I couldn't feel my legs. I was really hoping the foot that had triggered the spell hadn't been blown to bits. I'm not sure my dragon-inherited healing worked on missing limbs. I cranked my neck sideways to look. Nope, I still had two feet.
The fog was gone. So Sayers was dead.
I reached out with my dowser senses — struggling to get the taste of Sienna's dark blood magic out of my mouth, and nose, and head — and tried to find Kett. I couldn't sense him, but when I cranked my head in the other direction, I could see the buckled and trashed railing to my left. I guessed he'd gone off the roof. Lucky for him that he was already dead, so the five-storey fall couldn't kill him.
A whole hell of a lot of magic was boiling up from the center of the parking lot. I managed to sit up and look as more of my body came under control. I could taste Sayers, Edmonds, Clark, and Mory, as well as Sienna. My sister's magic overrode all the others.
Sienna stood with Sayers obviously dead at her feet. She was reading from the demon history book. The asshole sorcerer who'd written the chronicle had included the incantation used in 1888. Freaking arrogant sorcerer. I could see Sienna's lips move, but I couldn't hear her.
Yeah, that really was a wicked stunning spell.
I managed to get to my feet, even though I still couldn't feel the right one, and reached for my sword. It wasn't on my back.
Damn.
I looked around, but Sienna was raising the sacrificial knife above her head now. Though I had no idea what she was going to do with it, I ran at her.
She turned and saw me coming. Just as I leaped for her, she simply dropped the knife into the pool of Sayers' blood at her feet.
I crashed into her and we flew onto the empty pavement behind the pentagram, rolling ass over head until we slammed against the metal door to the stairs. The force of our tumble actually caused the door and its concrete housing to buckle and collapse.
From behind me, I sensed dark, dusty cemetery-tasting magic. Then dank, rotten graveyard magic spread down deep, as if reaching into the crap-filled bowels of the earth.
"Drake," I screamed, "cut the rope!"
I untangled myself from Sienna, who thankfully appeared to be knocked out. I tossed off the clumps of concrete that hindered me and made it to my feet for a third time in less than ten minutes. I ran for the pentagram, feeling the magic grow as it hit the anchor point five storeys below. It then sprang back to hit the first pentagram. Edmonds started screaming as if he was being ripped apart. Sayers must have cast the sleep spells, but now with him dead, they were nullified.
Oh, God...
My right foot wasn't working properly. I hadn't noticed before, but now — waiting to hear Mory start screaming — I felt like I could barely move, as if I was stuck in masses of marshmallows or molasses.
I made it to the pentagram and peered over the short wall and through the ropes, seeing Mory and Drake one floor below. Drake was hacking at the rope with his broadsword.
"My knife!" I cried. "My knife!"
"Didn't work," Drake yelled back as he slashed at the spelled rope a couple of inches from Mory's feet.
The necromancer looked up at me. She was clutching her necklace, and her eyes were way, way too big for her pixie face.
Then she smiled, just to break my heart further.
A demon literally ripped through and out of Edmonds' corpse three-storeys below. It was mottled gray, looked vaguely like a Chinese guardian lion without the mane, and was the size of my bakery walk-in fridge. That is if my fridge suddenly grew seven-inch claws and double-fanged teeth. Buying us a few seconds, the demon helpfully stopped to eat Edmonds' corpse as its first meal in the human dimension.
Though where the hell Sienna had actually summoned it from — seeing as demons turned to dust when killed — I had no freaking idea. My sister had obviously figured out a way to substitute the sorcerers' corpses for the nonexistent demon corpses. Then, combining sorcery, necromancy, and black magic, she'd raised the vanquished. So did that mean that demons left spectral energy behind when they were killed? That idea didn't help at all with the terror that was currently controlling my brain.
Clark — still strung up directly above this first demon — had managed to twist his head enough to see it rise through Edmonds' corpse. He began to shriek in anticipation.
The screaming grew worse as the magic moved up another level and hit the portly sorcerer. He would be a good-sized snack for his demon. Oh, God. That was a sick... sick... utterly terrified thought.
I locked my gaze to Mory's. Drake was barely denting the magic of the pentagram ward with his sword. I could see new slash marks each time he brought the blade down, and he wouldn't give up before he broke through, but it was going to be too late.
An eerie calm settled over me. Then I did the only thing I could do.
Without even looking, I bent down and picked up the sacrificial knife, which was now coated in Sayers' blood. I could sense that the knife was still tied to the demon spell, but I had no idea how to use that. I wasn't that kind of witch.
I was an alchemist.
I took all the magic I could feel still in Sayers' blood — Sienna hadn't even siphoned a third of it — and used my magic to bind it to the residual magic of the knife and the remaining magic of the summoning spell. I fortified the blade with everything I had at my fingertips. I informed it that it could now cut through any magic.
Then I hacked through the blood-soaked rope at my feet like a crazy person.
Yes, I was performing blood magic without even pausing to worry about the consequences. Yes, I created a knife of terrible power filled with the blood magic of a sorcerer almost as powerful as Blackwell — again without even worrying about it.
I couldn't get to Mory quickly enough any other way.
The rope gave way and I fell, hit the ward that was still actively holding Mory prisoner, and rolled off it to Drake's side. Sayers' body fell as well, but it didn't roll off the dome of the ward. Instead, it hung rather grotesquely suspended over Mory.
The Edmonds demon shook its head — the only remaining evidence of the creature's host were the grisly bits caught in its maw — and leaped upward in an attempt to grab hold of Clark, or at least the rope holding Clark. It couldn't get a hold, so it shrieked, opening its mouth terrifyingly wide. As in, the width of a fridge door.
Drake pressed the jade knife into my hand but I ignored him. Clark stopped screaming below us. That wasn't good.
I brought the transformed sacrificial knife down on the rope of the pentagram.
The second demon tore through Clark's corpse fifteen feet below us, then immediately started gorging itself on the dead sorcerer even before its hind legs had fully emerged.
Drake thrust his arms forward just as the ward, and then the rope, collapsed underneath Mory's feet. He snagged the fledgling necromancer's bound wrists just as the Clark demon — still finishing off Clark's corpse — grabbed Mory's legs.
The displaced magic of the pentagram ricocheted through the severed rope and hit the Clark demon, which was hanging off the rope with one hand and straining to eat Mory with the other.
The Clark demon shrieked and lost its hold on Mory.
The unfinished spell hit Sayers' corpse, which was tangled in the rope still tied to the other side of the low concrete wall. As Drake pulled Mory over that wall, the third demon erupted from Sayers' corpse, covered in blood and intestines. It didn't pause to eat Sayers, though — not when I was alive and breathing and within easy reach.
The demon hit me. Its claws raked through my hoodie and scored my leather vest underneath. We tumbled backward, smashing into Drake, who had time only to wrap himself around Mory to protect her.
I wrestled frantically with the demon, which was only two feet taller than me, but felt like it weighed a hundred tons. It was striking me faster than I could heal, and I was already slick with my own blood.
But we'd managed to rescue Mory. Everything else would be okay now. My heart rate steadied and my mind cleared.
I jammed the sacrificial knife into the demon's maw, managing to get both my feet underneath its chest to throw it off me. It hit a car across the way and slid off the trunk, shrieking and batting at the knife wedged in its mouth. The idiot had bitten down, puncturing its upper jaw and nose with the blade.
I rolled to my feet.
Across from me, Drake was defending Mory from the Clark demon. It was still somehow wearing the sorcerer's knit cardigan, the sweater tangled around the small horns or ridges of its head. For some reason, this sight made me crazy angry.
Drake swung his broadsword and slashed the demon's shoulder, cutting deep. The demon scrambled away, just out of reach of the blade. Drake couldn't press it because Mory — clutching my jade knife in both hands — was hunched against a car. She was shaking violently, maybe going into shock. But she'd cut the ropes binding her wrists and ankles at least.
The Sayers demon decided to ignore the knife embedded in its mouth and leaped for me, but I was ready for it this time. I met its lunge with a forward chest kick and followed through with a knee underneath its jaw. This drove the knife farther into what should have been the creature's brain, but caused it only to stumble.
"Drake," I called. "Behind you on three."
The fledgling guardian didn't respond as the Clark demon took another swipe at him, but I knew he heard me.
"One..." I said, lunging forward with my left foot. "Two..." I leaped into the air, bringing my right foot — which I still couldn't totally feel — forward. "Three..."
I slammed this foot into the Sayers demon, driving it back toward Drake. In a spectacular move, he spun, severed the neck of the demon with his broadsword, and then continued his spin to once again face off with the Clark demon. He'd kept himself between the demon and Mory the entire time.
The Sayers demon's head slipped sideways and hit the ground in a shower of ash.
The Clark demon shrieked, scurried back to the collapsed pentagram, and leaped for the severed rope hanging down from the roof.
I crossed to and picked up the sacrificial knife. Its dark magic thrummed against the skin of my palm. I dusted the ash off it and hoped I could unmake what I'd made.
Drake was dragging Mory to her feet when the Edmonds demon, looking rather slashed and bruised, climbed up the concrete column and leaped from ledge to ledge toward the roof.
Kandy — in full half-beast form — climbed after him, using the ropes of the severed pentagram and the ledges. She was favoring one arm as she did so.
"Wait," I cried after the werewolf, but she was gone. "At least they're heading for the roof and not the street." I realized my mistake as soon as I said the words. Sienna was on the roof. "Drake, you need to move Mory to safety."
Dank magic blew by me like a blast of wind. My ears sealed and then unsealed with a pop. "Shit," I swore. "She's awake."
I looked toward the open railing and could see a ripple of magic in the air. A ward. "She's used Sayers' sand boundary for the fog to seal us in."
Damn it. My sister was way too strong. And Kandy was up on the roof alone.
"Stairs," I hissed at Drake. Sienna might expect us to climb up after the demons. Maybe the stairs gave us a bit of a chance at surprising her.
Drake got Mory's arm over his shoulders. The petite necromancer was so much shorter than the fledgling guardian that her toes barely touched down in this position. Which was fine, because Drake had no issue with practically carrying her as we ran for the stairs.
The top of the stairs were shattered from Sienna and me smashing into them from above. That the two of us together could crush this much concrete and steel was a scary, scary reality, so I just pushed it out of my mind.
I climbed up first, staying crouched at the upper level and hopefully out of sight. Then I reached down for Mory. Drake lifted her to me and I hauled her up. Jesus, her wrists were going to be bruised to hell from all of this, but she didn't make a sound as I settled her beside me in the rubble.
Drake joined us.
I reached behind me and touched the jade knife Mory still clutched. She tried to press it into my hand and I shook my head. I pushed my magic into the blade and whispered, "No one can take this away from you, except me."
Mory nodded her understanding as the magic settled into the knife.
I couldn't get her out of the parking lot — not quickly, at least — and I couldn't take on two demons and Sienna without Drake, so the necromancer would have to stick with us. The thought made me sick, and I tamped down on the emotion. Guilt wasn't going to make any of this go away.
"If you happen to see my sword, let me know," I said to Drake.
He nodded, and as one, we sprang out of our crouches and onto the roof.
# 11
Without the fog, the night sky was clear, though it had been raining all day. The surrounding buildings were a well-lit background. Though not many seemed to be residences, I imagined the police would be alerted to our disturbance soon, if they hadn't been already.
So, yeah. Clear night.
So clear I had no problem seeing Sienna standing on the far side of the parking lot with her foot on Kandy's chest and the demons on either side of her. And yeah, she had my katana.
"I see your sword," Drake said, not a hint of humor in his tone.
"Yeah, me too."
Mory climbed out of the rubble behind us. I could taste her toasted marshmallow magic gathering behind me.
"Is Rusty here?" I asked.
Mory nodded.
"Would he like to come out to play?" We needed all hands on deck, including the ghost of Mory's brother who had a special hate for Sienna — seeing as how she murdered him. Rusty wasn't exactly an innocent himself. But then, none of us were anymore. Again, thanks to Sienna.
"She figured out how to counter him," Mory whispered.
That made sense. Even Sienna couldn't put up with being constantly attacked by the spectral energy of her ex-boyfriend for long. A boyfriend she'd killed and drained of magic.
"She's using large amounts of magic tonight. If Rusty bides his time, I imagine he'll find an opening."
Mory nodded and set her jaw in determination.
Sienna was grandstanding, spinning the sword around with her wrist. Everything was a show with my sister. Hey, I liked a great presentation as much as anyone, but she took it way too far.
Drake and I stepped closer. In two swift movements, we had halved the distance between us and Sienna. Mory stayed behind.
I wasn't sure at first that Kandy was breathing, but her magic bloomed and then twisted around her. She transformed back into her human form and curled into a ball at Sienna's feet. She looked worse than before with her cuts, bruises, and torn clothing, but I knew the transformation was a way her magic helped to heal her.
Sienna looked startled to see us suddenly so close. She laid the tip of my sword on Kandy's neck.
Drake casually reached underneath the bumper of a smashed car — my ass was indented into its hood — and pushed it out of his way, opening up the field before and around us.
Sienna's eyes widened. She laughed like a little girl getting an unexpected gift.
"If you clap your hands, you'll find this knife in your throat," I said. I raised the sacrificial knife before me as if ready to throw. I was bluffing, though. The knife's balance was totally off. The accuracy of a throw would be chancy, and then I'd be weaponless.
The demons pawed at the ground and snorted. I had no idea how Sienna was controlling them — technically, I was holding the knife — but I wasn't sure how she'd constructed the spell in the first place.
"Three against two, Jade," Sienna said. "I'd watch your mouth and start begging."
"You always were terrible at math, sister," I said.
Sienna started to sneer, but her retort was cut off by Kett rising — all red-eyed and fanged — out of the darkness behind her and latching onto her neck.
Damn it! I'd told him not to bite her. Some sort of spell exploded around them — the dark magic buffeted me as I charged forward — and they tumbled sideways.
The demons shook their heads like dogs shaking off water. Then they fell on Kandy.
Drake and I attacked as one, dropkicking different demons. Drake's sword flashed and his demon shrieked. I rounded on mine, but the damn thing scampered away and flung itself at the wrestling mess that was Sienna and Kett.
Sienna had dropped my sword by Kandy. I reached for it as Kett managed to fling the demon off his back and over my head. His back was scored with claw marks that instantly healed. Unfortunately, in order to toss the demon, Kett had removed his teeth from Sienna's neck, giving her just enough time to fling out a spell. They were situated in the middle of the rest of us, and Sienna somehow managed to cast in all directions at once. Her trusty fireblood spell hit me, Kett, Mory, Drake, and Kandy, but unfortunately not the demons.
Pain seared through my brain, but I knew this spell. Though Sienna was stronger than ever, it didn't bring me to my knees. It did, however, cripple Kett. Kandy was probably lucky she was already passed out.
The demon Kett threw had landed near Mory. It pulled its hind legs underneath it to leap on the necromancer, who was shuddering in pain despite wearing the necklace I'd made for her. The necklace obviously needed to be reinforced.
Drake stumbled, winded as the spell hit him. But he didn't drop until the demon he'd cornered knocked him over, latching its massive maw onto the fledgling guardian's shoulder.
I threw the sacrificial knife, and despite my misgivings about its balance, it skewered the demon as it leaped for Mory. In the same motion, I dove over Kandy and came up on two feet with my sword in hand.
The skewered demon stumbled sideways. Sienna — the veins in her face bulging with black magic — grabbed the sacrificial knife out of its head. It turned, confused now like a rabid dog, and leaped over Kett to latch onto Drake's other shoulder. The fledgling dragon went down a second time. The three of them rolled, crashing through the few cars in the lot and pushing them aside like a wrecking ball.
Sienna flipped the knife in her hand. Blade down, she plunged it toward Kett. I dove, my katana extended to block Sienna's thrust, but ended up face down across Kett's chest. Sienna grabbed my hair and twisted me up onto my knees. I felt the sacrificial knife ghost across my throat, but then Sienna screamed and freed me.
Mory had buried my jade knife into Sienna's thigh. My sister backhanded the necromancer across the face, and the fledgling flew back onto the concrete rubble at the top of the stairs. Her body, sickeningly limp, slammed down and was still.
I felt the shallow cut across my throat heal.
Sienna stumbled back and yanked the jade knife out of her thigh — quickly dropping it to the ground as it seared her hand. I gained my feet and brought my sword into play.
Sienna got the sacrificial knife up to block my first blow. She left herself open though, so I slammed a kick into her chest and she flew backward.
I stepped over Kett to stalk my sister, feeling him rise to his feet behind me. Sienna couldn't maintain the fireblood spell and fight me.
My sister threw some malignant spell at me and I stepped sideways, feeling Kett mirror my movement. It barely touched me.
"It's over," I spat, stepping within striking distance.
"Not yet, sister," Sienna said. Blood speckled her lower lip and chin, so she wasn't invulnerable... yet. I was surprised to see it was red.
Then the two demons who'd been clawing Drake both hit me at once.
I lost track of Sienna with four sets of claws raking me from all directions. I was vaguely aware of Kett fighting alongside me. I threw an elbow and knocked one of the demons back, but felt something snap in my arm. I dropped the sword.
The other demon clawed me across the shoulders and I fell to my knees, rolled, and came up with the jade knife in my left hand — my right was still useless. I slit its throat. It stumbled. I stood.
Kett had the other demon cornered. I took another slash at my demon's neck with my left hand and managed to drive it farther back.
In the blink of an eye, Sienna was before me with the sacrificial knife.
The demon latched onto my left shoulder. I tried to block with my right, but I wasn't going to be fast enough.
Sienna thrust the knife toward my heart.
Kett appeared suddenly in front of me and took the blow.
Sienna screamed in frustration.
I willed the jade knife into my right hand and slashed across my body to slice the demon's neck for a third time. It shrieked and let me go.
Sienna shoved Kett away from her while keeping hold of the sacrificial knife.
Kett fell as if he was mortally wounded. Except that wasn't possible, because he wasn't mortal.
I reached for my sword where it lay at my feet.
Sienna started laughing. "Nice knife, Jade," she said. "I'll trade this for the stupid necromancer."
I grasped the hilt of the katana and brought it around to finally lop off the demon's head.
It crumbled into dust.
I was bleeding from multiple wounds. Though my arm was working, it ached like it was filled with molten lava. And Sienna was still freaking laughing.
The final demon — its head down to charge me — stepped between my sister and me. Sienna was obviously still controlling it.
Then I felt the life debt bond between Kett and me disintegrate. It took all my breath away. I stumbled. I twisted back to Kett, who was lying staring up at the night sky, not a hint of red in his eyes now.
Sienna glanced around the rooftop. She casually ran her fingers over the ridges of the demon's head as if she were petting a cat. She looked utterly satisfied.
"I'll leave you to it, sister," she said. Then she twirled the knife I'd made with blood magic — a knife powerful enough to kill a vampire who'd walked the earth for centuries. She grinned at me. "You give me such pretty presents. Maybe I'll be lucky and you'll make it out of here alive. I'd like more presents like this one."
I stepped toward her. The demon reared up.
"Everyone is dying," Sienna whispered as if it was a delightful secret. "I should know. I can feel it when it happens now."
Then Rusty — the ghost of Mory's brother — attacked her. His timing was getting better and better. Sienna shrieked and raised the knife against this invisible force, but knives were nothing to ghosts.
The demon snarled, but without direction from Sienna, it didn't seem to know what to do.
If Rusty was in play then Mory was still alive.
I spun and brought the sword to the demon's neck. It leaped up and over my blow — clearly, self-preservation trumped all.
Behind it, Sienna stumbled back, her magic rolling up and around her as she somehow countered Rusty's attack. Even so, his assault drove her back toward the broken railing where Kett had fallen off the roof earlier.
She fell.
Heedless of the demon somewhere behind me, I ran to the edge of the roof and peered over the broken railing. The ward had fallen. Sienna must have at least lost consciousness, then. But I couldn't see my sister in the darkness pooled between the streetlamps. Why weren't they spaced closer?
Mory was sobbing. I didn't want to acknowledge the devastation behind me. I had to finish it. I had to make sure that —
Dragon magic hit me like a blow to the head. I stumbled, turned, and fell to my knees by Kett's prone form.
My brain scrambled, then refocused.
Suanmi the fire breather stepped out from the crumbled stairs.
"Suanmi," I breathed. I didn't know if the guardian had felt the presence of the demons in her territory or if she'd simply tracked Drake here, but hope flooded my system, clearing my senses.
The elegant, refined French woman curled her lip at me and barked, "Drake, avec moi!"
The demon leaped for the guardian. Though only a quarter of its size, Suanmi caught it by the throat and breathed the words, "Meurt, rejeton du diable" into its ear. Assuming it had ears.
The demon disintegrated into dust. Suanmi, her nose crinkled, brushed it off her classic Chanel pant suit, with the pink-piping-edged jacket and all.
"Suanmi, please," I cried. "My sister."
The fire breather stalked toward me. "What have you done with Drake, half-blood?" she asked in her heavily-accented English.
The few cars that had been parked on the roof were crumbled together in the far corner of the lot. These shifted as Drake stumbled out from underneath them.
Suanmi sighed, just as I had taken to sighing at the fledgling. I whispered a silent prayer in thanks that the thirteen-year-old was on his feet.
"Sorry, guardian," Drake said.
"Avec moi, Drake," Suanmi said. Then she turned away.
"No!" I cried. "I need your help."
Suanmi whirled on me, fierce and full of anger. Her magic hit me like a sledgehammer. My heart skipped a beat or two. "Clean up your own mess, Jade Godfrey," she sneered. "And don't come back before you do, or I will grant your wish and make all your troubles go away."
"But guardian..." Drake protested.
Suanmi snagged him by the ear. He instantly quieted.
"Such petty disputes are beneath a guardian, Drake," Suanmi said. "We shall discuss your punishment just as soon as we get out of London."
Drake swallowed and nodded.
"See to your pets, half-blood. They are dying." Suanmi's smirk was refined and spiteful. It was amazing she could pack so much nuance into one expression. But then, she'd had a half-dozen centuries to practice.
Still holding Drake by the ear, the guardian of Western Europe spun away and stepped into the stairs.
"It was fun rescuing you, Mory," Drake called over his shoulder.
Then they were gone.
I felt utterly lost without the dragon magic I'd had by my side for the last three months.
"Jade."
Mory was crying. I wasn't sure how long I'd been kneeling there feeling sorry for myself.
I looked up. Mory had crawled to Kandy and was cradling the werewolf in her arms. The necromancer was bleeding badly from her forehead. Half her face was covered in her own blood.
I had to check on Kandy. I had to check on Kett.
"I don't know any healing magic," I whispered.
And Sienna. Sienna might be lying dead in the street below. I could still taste her blood-soaked earth magic, but it was mixed in with all the residual magic throughout the parking lot. I couldn't pinpoint her location with my senses alone.
I pulled myself closer to Kett. The wound in his chest from the sacrificial knife hadn't healed. This wound had severed the life debt bond between us. So, according to the magic of the bond, this blow would have killed me if Kett hadn't stepped in. I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around the idea that Kett might have sacrificed his immortal existence... for me.
Ribbons of charcoal — or ash, maybe — were spreading out from the wound. They ran slowly up Kett's neck as I watched.
I reached out to touch his face, but then hesitated. Pushing through the shock that had obviously taken hold of my adrenal system, I switched hands. I hovered my left hand over Kett's mouth and brought my jade knife up to slice my wrist.
"Stop!"
A woman's scream was followed by a crushing blow to my shoulder. She knocked me sprawling over Kett and to the edge of the roof before I even laid eyes on her.
A woman as pale skinned as Kett stood crouched over him, baring her wickedly fanged teeth at me. Her fangs were at least an inch longer than Kett's. Her eyes were not only filled with blood but swirling with magic. And her magic — a sharp, pungent peppermint — was almost an exact replica of Kett's.
No. I had that backward. His magic was a duplicate of hers, and nowhere near as strong.
This was Kett's maker, who also happened to be the Audrey Hepburn lookalike I'd seen on the street that afternoon.
I cradled my left arm in my right as I staggered to my feet. "I think he's dying," I said. No. I pleaded. "I was just trying to feed —"
"Dragon blood," Kett's maker snapped. "If he isn't already lost to me, he would have been."
"I'm not... I don't think..."
"That is obvious. Take your friends and go."
"I can't."
"Now." The power in her voice made me shiver, made me want to obey her unquestioningly.
"He's my —"
"I swore not to touch you, Jade Godfrey." She spat my name like it insulted her to even know it. "If he dies, I will suck the marrow from the werewolf's and necromancer's bones and make you watch. If he doesn't die, you have eighteen hours left. After that, if you set even one foot in London, I will take everything from you."
I believed her. I also believed, as wounded and depleted as I was, that I probably wouldn't be able to stop her. She might manage to kill Mory or Kandy before I could get in her way.
So I left Kett.
I was doing that a lot. Leaving people who might be dead or dying, and saving those I could. I was doing it over and over and over.
I hefted Kandy over my shoulder, hoping Mory could walk just holding on to me, and ran for the stairs.
The werewolf was still breathing. Thank God. But I needed to get both her and Mory to a hospital and then figure out later how to explain what had happened to the human authorities. I was already in epic shit with the Convocation and the Conclave, not to mention the sorcerer's League. The shapeshifter Assembly would have my head if the hospital took blood samples, but I wasn't going to let Kandy die if I could help it.
I managed to get Kandy and Mory down to the ground floor without having our hearts ripped out by Kett's maker. It was slow going, and I kept frantically glancing back. My dragon healing abilities had been seriously tested, and my right foot and left arm still didn't feel fully under my control. Kandy was heavier than she looked, and Mory just stopped moving halfway down. I had to ferry both the werewolf and the fledgling necromancer one at a time for the last two flights of stairs.
I tucked them both inside the entrance ticket booth — Mory was still conscious but not speaking. Then I drew my jade knife and went to look for Sienna.
The sidewalk was empty — no blood on it or anything. The pavement was cracked, but that could have been due to Kett's fall.
Kett.
My chest constricted and I stepped back to look up at the roof. The railing was crumpled and hanging off the edge, but the building looked remarkably undamaged from the outside.
'Clean up your own mess,' Suanmi had said. But I had no idea what to do now. Everyone I knew in London was either dead or dying.
Call Gran.
I pulled my phone out of my hoodie pocket in pieces. A phone call to Gran was really going to have to wait. I was losing it, starting to shake. My mind was blank... I didn't know what to do.
"Jade?"
Kandy. It was barely a whisper, but I heard it. I turned back to her and Mory, still scanning with my eyes and my dowser senses for Sienna... nothing. I couldn't even taste any residual magic out on the street.
Kandy's phone might have survived the... what should I call it? Fight? Destruction? Triple demon summoning? Getting our asses handed to us?
Her phone hadn't survived. But that was okay, because just as I was thinking that I was going to need to steal a car, the werewolf cavalry descended on us. Jorgen was back and brought a pack with him. He'd also brought a witch.
Thank God for werewolf hormones.
Jorgen hustled off with Kandy. It was difficult to protest this when I was surrounded by five werewolves who all looked like they could seriously kick my ass. Plus, the green-haired werewolf was in serious need of healing, and I had no idea how to help her.
The witch — who pretty much refused to identify herself to me — dumped a bunch of healing magic into Mory, then started ordering Jorgen's werewolf buddies around. A couple of them had police uniforms on that looked real to my completely uninformed eye.
The witch was a dark-haired woman in her forties with a charming British lilt. She didn't offer to heal me. That was okay, because she was pretty magically spent after working on Mory, and I also didn't know how my magic might react to hers anyway.
"An investigative team is on the way," she said quietly. She glanced over at me sitting on the sidewalk at her feet, with Mory slumped against my shoulder. "They were nearby. On the trail of the... black witch." She looked up at the car park for a long moment, then frowned darkly. "Don't leave the hotel without permission." Then she walked off without another word.
One of the werewolves hauled us around the corner and flagged down a cab. It was obvious that they wanted us as far away from the scene as possible, and who was I to argue?
My foot sorted itself out before I hit the hotel lobby. This was good because Mory, who still hadn't spoken, collapsed in the elevator and I had to carry her to the suite.
I tucked her into bed and made a beeline for the en-suite bathroom. One glance in the mirror and I was surprised the cab driver hadn't refused to take us. I actually looked worse than I felt, and I felt like a pile of shit scraped off the bottom of my sister's shoe and left to fester on the roadside.
I left the door open so I could hear if Mory woke, then turned the water to hot in the walk-in shower.
I stripped off my ruined leathers. Though they'd somehow held together on my body, they fell to shreds on the bathroom's black-and-white hexagon-tiled floor.
Every surface of my body — neck to toes — was scored by still-healing demon claw marks. My left arm was mangled as if it had been chewed on. The skin was newly pink, but underneath was a knotted mess of muscle and tissue.
Three and a half months of training and a shiny new sword, and this is what I looked like after confronting Sienna. I hadn't even gotten to use the sword, really. That said a whole lot about how I really didn't deserve to wield it.
And speaking of blades...
I stepped into the hot shower and tried to not weep over the sacrificial knife that I'd transformed with blood magic into something far more deadly — and then had pretty much handed it to Sienna. A knife that could kill a centuries-old vampire...
"Please don't be dead," I whispered. Blood washed down my body and pooled around the drain at my feet. My toenails — unpainted for the first time in years — took on a pinkish hue. "Please don't be dead."
But the life debt bond had broken...
I started to cry, great ragged sobs that were violent and involuntary. I hunkered down underneath the hot stream of water and pressed my hands over my mouth, so as not to wake Mory.
And I sobbed.
I sobbed until my legs gave out and I curled up on the tile. I sobbed until I hurt myself, until blood vessels broke in and around my eyes. I sobbed for my stupidity and failure.
I sobbed for my sister.
And I cried for Kett... my mentor, my friend, and my protector, who I'd scorned in the hallway of the hotel not three hours ago for killing in order to live. And then I killed him myself, with my naiveté, stupidity, and recklessness.
By the time I stopped crying, I was unsure of how long I'd been taxing the hotel's boiler... but I felt guilty about the wastefulness so I turned off the water.
I still sat on the shower floor, soaking wet until the steam had cleared from the room and I began to shiver.
Mory said something in the other room, talking in her sleep. I lifted my head so that my wet hair hit my face. It was far cooler than my skin, and I realized I was running a temperature. My body was probably burning off the residual magic of Sienna's spells, and also probably whatever crap was in demon spit.
"Rusty, no," Mory murmured from the other room.
I stood up and grabbed a towel. That was enough uselessness for one evening. I had Mory to look after and Kandy to check up on.
And Sienna. There was no way Sienna was sitting in a shower bawling like a brat. No, Sienna had a new toy she was undoubtedly eager to try out.
# 12
Just before dawn, a knock at the suite door pulled me away from watching Mory sleep. I'd been worrying that she hadn't woken yet, but was also fretting about waking her to feed her if she needed the sleep to heal.
I'd ordered food the second the kitchen had opened, so I thought the knock was room service. Instead, I opened the door to find a dark-blond woman around twenty-five standing in the hall. She was a couple of inches shorter than my five feet nine inches. Her hair was pulled back and up in a French twist that wouldn't last an hour on me, and every well-tailored piece of clothing on her dripped money — all without my recognizing a single label, because there weren't any.
"Jade Godfrey?" she asked politely, already knowing the answer. Her slight accent identified her as American.
I met her gaze and flinched. Her blue witch magic curled and coiled behind her eyes so tightly that I couldn't distinguish their actual color.
She furrowed her brow at my flinch. I transferred my gaze to her hands where her magic also pooled, though not as intensely as behind her eyes.
"I know you," I said, and I met her gaze without flinching a second time. Her magic was heavily doused in nutmeg — which wasn't a scent I associated with witch magic — along with the sweet floral tones I would have expected. Sweet nutmeg was an odd combination.
"Yes," she answered. "I'm Wisteria Fairchild. The reconstructionist."
Right. We hadn't actually met during Sienna's trial, but Wisteria had presented a YouTube cube thing that somehow played back the scenes of Hudson's and Rusty's murders. The reconstructionist somehow collected residual magic and then transformed it into a visual presentation. This was the most damning evidence against Sienna. Until I saw it at the tribunal, I didn't even know that such magic was possible.
"Wisteria. That's an... unusual name. I imagine you go by something else?"
"No."
Chatty witch. Not.
"The Convocation thought it best if someone who knew your magic... and your family was here."
"I'm confused. You're here because?"
"An investigative team has been called in to contain, examine, and clean the area of last night's incident."
I stared at her. My brain was obviously low on processing power this morning. "That was less than six hours ago."
"Yes, well. It's rather a mess, isn't it? Best to move quickly. Will you be inviting me in? Or shall we continue to discuss such a sensitive topic as the morning newspapers are delivered door to door?"
I nodded and stepped back — still too overwhelmed and naturally polite to take exception to being bullied by a woman not much older than me. The room service waiter turned the corner of the hallway just as Wisteria stepped into the suite.
The reconstructionist settled into a plush love seat in the sitting area, placing a large designer bag on the floor at her feet.
The waiter rolled a tray laden with enough food for five big eaters into the room.
"I didn't know... I haven't ordered for you," I said to Wisteria.
She nodded and addressed the waiter. "Tea. Herbal. Mint if you have it, not chamomile."
The waiter nodded and crossed to a set of converted antique cupboards. Once opened, they revealed a coffee and tea station, as well as a mini fridge and sink.
He set the water boiling and then stepped back to have me sign the bill. I barely glanced at it closely enough to calculate the tip. He then served Wisteria her tea in a china cup — I assumed the mugs were reserved for coffee — and left. I had a feeling he was still half asleep.
The door clicked shut and I rounded on the reconstructionist. "You were in London?"
"No, Seattle."
"Six hours ago."
"The Convocation arranged transportation."
"Excuse me?"
Wisteria tilted her head and looked at me. Her magic boiled behind her eyes. It was unnerving. As far as I could taste, she was nowhere near as powerful as Gran or my mother, Scarlett. And yet magic usually flowed throughout a witch's physical body, not concentrating in such specific areas. Wisteria Fairchild was very good at controlling her magic. Brilliant at it. But I really, really didn't want to be around if she ever lost that coiled control.
Wisteria sipped her tea. It was too hot. She sucked in her breath to ease the pain of the burn. It was the first purely human thing I'd seen her do. Then I suddenly realized I made her nervous. I'd never thought about that before — never thought about how it must feel to be the most powerful person in the room. The extra responsibility made me momentarily heady. I wasn't sure I could carry more weight right now.
I grabbed the top plate of food, not caring what it hid beneath its warming dome, and sat down on the couch opposite Wisteria to eat.
"I have passports for you, the fledgling necromancer, and the werewolf... Kandy. The Convocation wasn't sure you still had access to yours. I also have airline tickets. Your flight leaves in four hours. You need to be at the airport in two, but you cannot leave the hotel without an escort."
"I can't leave —"
"You will leave. There is a bounty on your head — directly from the vampire elder himself — that goes into effect in less than ten hours. You're to leave the country and are not welcome back."
"What? Because of Kett? Is he... alive?" I stumbled over the last word from emotion — but also because I still wasn't exactly clear on whether vampires were alive or not. To me, they looked like pure animated magic — especially Kett's maker.
Wisteria waved her hand dismissively. "I don't know all the details. I don't normally operate as a point of contact. I'm sure I'm stepping on many toes here, but the Convocation will smooth everything out eventually."
"Gran... you mean 'Pearl Godfrey,' when you say 'the Convocation.' "
Wisteria smiled that tight smile of hers that didn't go anywhere near her eyes — a learned gesture of polite conversation. "There are thirteen board members. It takes seven to reach an agreement, but there wasn't a single dissenting vote in this matter. The witches are firmly on your side, in this circumstance at least."
"But why you?" I asked, stuffing the pancake I'd just folded in quarters straight into my mouth. "Not that I'm not glad you're here, but why didn't Gran or Scarlett use this miraculous transportation?"
Wisteria tilted her head to regard me a second time. I gathered my ignorance of witch magic confused or maybe intrigued her. I couldn't quite tell which. She was difficult to read with her magic held so tightly in her eyes.
"Gateway transportation can be tricky. My magic seems to accept it, though it is not... pleasant. It's also disruptive to the natural flow of magic, so its use is limited. It took me three hours to get into Vancouver and five minutes to arrive at the designated point in the parking lot."
"And Gran didn't come because her magic doesn't like... moving like that?"
"I gather. And she was casting, of course. And the investigative team is currently without their reconstructionist. So I had a valid reason to be here."
My grandmother was capable of moving a witch through space from Vancouver to London — the thought was awe-inspiring. The grid point portals were anchored in deep wells of natural magic. Other portals, such as the one in the Sea Lion Caves, were tied to the specific ability of one uber powerful being, Pulou the treasure keeper. Blackwell's amulet was constructed by a formidable alchemist. But a witch who could gather enough magic from the earth and channel it in order to transport another witch? All without the support of a full coven? I had no idea Gran was capable of such a thing. That any witch was capable of such.
Mory wandered out of the bedroom and toward the food without acknowledging either Wisteria or me. Her magic was barely discernible. She leaned over to look through the four plates remaining on the cart, lifting and lowering the domes until she found waffles.
My gaze dropped to the necklace that sat heavily on the necromancer's collarbone. Something about it was off — discordant with the rest of its magic, but not necessarily dangerous — as if it was dented and the flow of its magic restricted.
I half rose out of my chair to look at it closer. I was reaching toward it when Mory snapped, "Don't touch it."
I flinched at the utter hatred in her tone. "I was just —"
"Never mind," the teenager said. She all but dropped her plate of waffles onto the glass coffee table, then proceeded to douse them in syrup.
"This is Wisteria —"
"I know. Where's Kandy?"
"She's..." I glanced up at the reconstructionist.
"Healed enough to be going over the events of the evening with the lead investigator," Wisteria said. "I gathered the reconstructions before I came here, so the crew could start cleaning."
"Covering up the mess Sienna made," Mory said mockingly, her mouth full.
"That was much more than a mess," Wisteria said. Her tone was even but stern.
Mory nodded, somewhat appeased by this assessment.
"Your mother would like to talk to you," Wisteria continued as she pulled a cellphone out of her huge bag.
The fledgling necromancer snatched the phone and her plate, then booked it back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
"Your sister has cut a swath of destruction across the United Kingdom. The investigators tasked with finding and stopping her have identified a number of missing witches, and now three sorcerers. The fledgling necromancer will need to testify."
I nodded, still staring at the closed bedroom door. "She'll hate me forever."
"She's lucky to be alive," Wisteria said, not a hint of compassion or understanding in her voice. "One day she'll realize it."
I changed the subject. "Was one of the missing witches skilled in delayed or triggered spells?"
"Azure Dunkirk. Her coven reported her missing from Manchester two days ago. The investigators were following up there when they heard from Maize."
"Maize?"
"The witch that the werewolves contacted. She's a well-known healer, and actually the only witch who makes her home in London. Luckily, one of the werewolves had prior contact with her."
I nodded, not even remotely absorbing the information. I leaned forward and set my empty plate on the coffee table. "I did something last night... I made something..."
Wisteria held up her hand, palm toward me. "I'm not your confidant or your judge. As far as I saw, you did what you thought necessary at the time. Those demons... your foster sister..." Wisteria frowned and shivered slightly.
"I'm sure you've seen worse," I said.
The reconstructionist met my gaze. "I've never seen worse than what your sister has done, and I was certified at sixteen. The youngest ever. I've been practicing in North America for almost ten years now."
I shut up. My stomach rebelled against the pancakes and eggs I'd just eaten. But I wasn't going to throw up perfectly good food over freaking Sienna.
Wisteria leaned forward and spoke softly. "I've never seen magic like yours, Jade Godfrey, or the boy who was with you. You both gleamed gold within the darkness your sister conjured. Pure gold. You lighter, blue-tinged. The boy darker, an almost rose tone."
I felt tears threaten to overwhelm me again. I hadn't known that... I couldn't see my own magic. I wiped my cheeks and nodded.
Wisteria returned my nod and rose to her feet. "Now, I gather you and the fledgling will need clothes. If you give me your sizes, I'll see what I can do. The concierge in a hotel like this should be able to get us anything, no matter the hour of the morning."
I glanced down at my attire. I'd stolen a tank top and a pair of Lycra workout pants from Kandy's clothes, but the pants were too short on my legs. The werewolf's jeans hadn't even remotely fit — like, not even over my thighs, even with all the dragon training. I'd thrown a hotel terry cloth robe over it all.
"What, this?" I asked. "Not good enough for Heathrow Airport?"
Wisteria laughed and handed me a pad of paper from the writing desk in the corner. Her laughter was a reserved, refined sound that offered a glimmer of lightness to my heavy soul.
The next few hours were a whirlwind of phone calls — Gran and Scarlett — and answering questions as guardedly as I could when the lead investigator showed. Mory continued to completely ignore everything, though she gushed over the clothing Wisteria brought for her.
The lead investigator was an uppity British witch who was seriously pissed that we'd been hunting Sienna in London without telling anyone. How we were to know to report our suspicions and activities to her team, I wasn't sure. When I informed her that we contacted the sorcerers and the so-called vampire elder, she just curled her lip at me and continued with the questions.
It seemed that the Adept had no problem asking hard questions when investigating a crime.
Wisteria — who outright refused to let me call her Wist or Wisty — sat next to me and squeezed my arm every time she wanted me to gloss over an event. I gathered that her reconstruction — the YouTube cube thing she was carrying around in her bag — showed what happened at the parking lot but not what led up to the disaster. Interestingly, Wisteria also refused to hand the cube over to the lead investigator until after the Convocation had seen it. She had actual written directives to back this up. Her handbag was that large for a reason. And here I'd thought it was a fashion statement completely at odds with the rest of her well-kept, minimalist appearance.
I should have slept, but I didn't want to relax anywhere other than in my own bed, no matter how far away that was at the moment.
I asked about Kett.
No one had answers.
Wisteria scored me some MiH jeans, a green cashmere sweater, and white patent three-quarter Doc Martens boots with roses etched up the sides that totally screamed 'limited edition' to me. I was ready to make her my best friend for it. She didn't seem on board with that plan, though.
The reconstructionist used our impending flight as an excuse to haul Mory and me out of the hotel suite and into a rental car before the investigator had finished her interview. By the deadly look this garnered, I really hoped Wisteria wasn't stepping on too many toes for my sake.
She barely said a word to us on the way to the airport. And, of course, Mory was also honing her impression of a rock in the back seat, so I just kept randomly flipping radio stations when a song came on that I didn't want to hear. I tried a lot of radio stations. It seemed I wasn't interested in listening to music or talking.
The reconstructionist pulled up to the international departures section of Heathrow, and once again I was really glad I wasn't driving. The airport was huge and sprawling.
"I'm surprised we aren't under heavy guard," I said jokingly as I stepped from the car.
"You are," Wisteria said. Then she pulled away without saying goodbye.
I reached for Mory, not wanting to lose her in the pressing crowd. She deftly avoided my touch, almost knocking over a toddler with her dodge.
Fine. I'd let her get lost at the freaking largest airport in the United Kingdom... I already was.
I moved — slowly in case Mory did want to stay with me — toward the revolving doors, happy that I only had my satchel and katana, and wasn't dragging the huge bags hindering the other travelers. Portals were decidedly less intimidating. Well, if I didn't include having my life threatened by one of the nine guardians of the world if I used one... or returned to the nexus.
Kandy appeared out of the crowd. Her hair was freshly dyed green but in a slightly different shade... darker, I thought. It almost perfectly matched the green glow of magic that rolled across her eyes when she met my gaze, saw my smile, and didn't return it.
Mory flung herself at the werewolf as if I were the one who'd kidnapped her in the first place.
Something in my chest broke. I was surprised there was anything left to break so close to my heart. But I felt it snap, right in that place where I had stored all my pain over losing Sienna.
Then the anger rose to patch the crack.
I shoved the two extra airline tickets at Kandy's chest. She stumbled back and almost dropped them.
"Don't worry," I snarled. "I'll get my seat reassigned."
Then I walked away, leaving Kandy and Mory staring after me. Yeah, maybe it was childish. Yeah, maybe I deserved their nasty shit, but I wasn't going to take it.
No one had any freaking idea what I was feeling. No one had any idea what it was like to hunt your own sister, your best friend, and fail to bring her to justice — even though according to the investigators, that wasn't my job. It was my responsibility.
And you know what? I didn't drag Kandy, Mory, or Kett into any of this... I'd walked through the Loch More portal two and a half days ago with every intention of finding Sienna on my own. And maybe, just maybe, if it had been me facing her alone, all that other terrible shit wouldn't have happened.
Now we'd never know.
I paused. The airport was teeming with people. Glimmers of magic floated all around me, but nothing substantial. We Adepts were a minority by a long shot in this world. I was one of a kind. I could walk through portals. I didn't need to sit on a plane for eight hours. I could be home in minutes.
If I knew where the London portal was... if I could get away with using it. I was under the impression that Pulou could block portals against certain users if he so desired. For the doorways he'd specifically structured, at least. So the Loch More portal would be open... and Suanmi had more important things to do than sit in wait for me to use a portal. There were, after all, only nine guardians for the entire world. They were overworked if not underpaid. But then, I wasn't entirely sure how guardian powers worked or even what abilities they encompassed... the London portal was exclusively Suanmi's — I'm sure it was how she'd arrived in the city last night, so she'd probably know the second I used it.
Kandy stepped up beside me, her face tilted to the departure board above us. "Looks like the plane is on time," she said.
"I'm not interested in playing shapeshifter dominance games with you," I said, not looking at the werewolf. "If you're here by my side, then you're here as a friend, not as a follower and not as a protector."
Kandy, still not meeting my eye, bared her teeth. But then she seemed to shake off whatever reaction had seized her. She nodded. "Check-in is this way," she said. "They have to pack up your sword and special check it."
"Yeah." I wasn't happy about handing the katana over. At least security would be unaware of the invisible jade knife at my hip.
Mory pressed against my left side as we cut through the crowd after Kandy. Her ears barely came up to my shoulders. I didn't acknowledge her further. I'm sure she had a lot of shit to work out. I could lead her through this crowd, but I couldn't heal her.
"My necklace is broken," she said to the back of my left shoulder.
"It's just dented, not broken," I responded. "I'll fix it."
"Okay."
"Okay."
And that was that.
We checked in, boarded the plane, and left London. Supposedly, I was to never return. Part of me hoped that Sienna was still somewhere beneath me as I looked out the window at the airport green space and then the houses and buildings of London growing smaller and smaller. Maybe the investigative team would find her.
Except she would kill them all, and probably become more powerful than ever.
No. Sienna was on her way to her next target, and I had to get in her way... somehow.
Kandy and Mory undid their seat belts, lifted the arm of the seat between them, and curled up together to sleep. Thankfully, Kandy didn't seem to have a scratch on her that I could see. But then, my wounds had healed on the outside as well, so that was no way to tell, really.
I pulled Blackwell's duplicate demon history book out of my satchel. Then — starting with page one — I began memorizing the bloody thing. I had no idea if Sienna would return to the same source material, but it was the only lead I had within my grasp.
Thankfully, the steward had Lindt chocolate on board. It wasn't Valrhona or Amedei, but it would do. I bought every bar over 60 percent cocoa that he had, ignoring his flabbergasted response.
I had work to do, and it was time I started applying myself as diligently as possible to the job. Chocolate was damn fine at focusing me.
The moms were waiting at the international arrivals gate just beyond customs at Vancouver International Airport. And though I was twenty-three-going-on-twenty-four, I was relieved to see Scarlett's strawberry-blond hair seconds after I cleared customs. When the taste of my mother's magic hit me — strawberry and white chocolate over her grassy witch base — I knew I was home. Which was odd, because Scarlett hadn't really raised me.
Mory's mom, Danica Novak, opened her arms — her face already puffy with previously shed tears — and the teenaged necromancer flung herself, sobbing, into them.
"She made me. She made me," Mory said.
Danica's eyes reminded me of Rusty's, but her hair was a shade lighter. The taste of her magic — sugared violets — was a more pungent version of her son's. The necromancer powers were usually strongest in the female line.
I reached out for a brief but fierce hug from my mother. Scarlett then turned and hugged Kandy, a gesture the green-haired werewolf accepted more enthusiastically than I would have expected.
Gran stepped around Scarlett, and I was shocked to realize I hadn't seen or felt her beneath all the other magic around me. She grabbed me and didn't let go.
"Your magic," I cried before I could stop myself.
"It's all right, Jade," Gran whispered. "You're home."
That didn't answer my question, so — still captured in Gran's grasp — I looked to Scarlett.
My mother smiled one of those tight smiles edged in sadness that she was getting too good at. "The transportation spell. It's not really my kind of magic, so Pearl took the brunt of it. Normally, we'd gather a coven, but time was tight."
"I didn't realize... I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
Scarlett interrupted my confused apology. "Don't be silly, my Jade. We did what we wanted. It was the least we could do... we couldn't... didn't... We wanted you home."
Gran pulled back from the hug and cupped my face in her hands. Her silver hair was pulled back into a loose braid, which fell down to her lower back. "I'm so proud of you," she said. Her tone was defiant and fierce, as if she was ready to argue against anything I might try to say.
Tears welled in my eyes and slipped down my cheeks. I couldn't do anything to stop them.
"No, no," Gran said. She wiped her strong, capable fingers across my cheeks to dry my tears. "A batch of cupcakes will sort out my magic, and a good sleep will do you some good."
She linked her arm through mine. Scarlett did the same on the other side, and together they pulled me out of the airport toward the short-term parking lot across the main road.
"A grilled cheese sandwich would be nice," I said as we dodged traffic and Scarlett stopped to pay the parking fee.
"With ham," Kandy added. The werewolf was striding alongside Gran. Mory and her mother were trailing along behind us, still quietly weeping.
"What? No. Gross," I said.
"I'm sure we can figure out something for both of you," Scarlett said as she led us toward the car.
Gran squeezed my forearm, then released me to dig around in her purse for her keys.
We paused at Gran's car and I watched Ms. Novak settle Mory in her car, two spots farther down from us. She looked up, caught my gaze, and nodded. Well, that was a step in the right direction. I'd been worried about her proficiency with death curses for over three months. Not that anyone would confirm or deny whether such a spell were possible, even for a necromancer of power. I wasn't sure how powerful Danica or Mory were, because I didn't know any other necromancers with which to compare them.
"I need to cast a circle tomorrow," I said quietly to Scarlett before she slipped into the driver's seat. It was the first time I'd ever seen Gran not drive. My mother nodded and ran her fingers down my arm, leaving the soothing tingle of her magic behind.
"Pearl and I will come to you. I gather you have a plan?"
"The start of one. A guess, based on something Blackwell said."
Scarlett pursed her lips but then nodded. Blackwell was not her favorite subject. "Tomorrow morning. After sunrise to allow Pearl's magic another cycle to replenish."
We climbed into the car and Scarlett drove us home.
Except for the new orchid plant on the granite countertop of the kitchen island, my apartment looked exactly the same as it had before I'd taken off for Portland. Scarlett hadn't added a thing in the three months I'd been gone, even though she'd bought something new every week in the three months previous to that. Though my room was suspiciously cleaner than I remembered.
I skipped the grilled cheese and slipped into my bed, only stopping to remove my boots. It took me longer to fall asleep than I expected. I lay there for a while, feeling Kandy's, Scarlett's, and Gran's magic in the kitchen and the comforting magic of my apartment wards all around me.
I wondered where Sienna was tonight.
No loved one had picked my sister up from the airport. No grandmother had been willing to drain her magic to send aid her way. No sister was there to whisper secrets in the dark... but then, Sienna didn't have any secrets anymore. She only had whims, and she left only devastation in her wake.
# 13
I woke up around five o'clock, so I guess I must have eventually slept. The time change should have been confusing, but over the three and a half months I'd spent in the dragon nexus, I was never actually sure what time it was anymore, so it didn't affect me.
I wiggled my toes into some flip-flops and promised myself a mani-pedi later that day. I made sure to not glance at my nails. I didn't need to melt down over nail polish right now. I exchanged my crumpled jeans for an older pair of Sevens. I needed to cinch the belt down two holes. Well, that was a silver lining in an otherwise tumultuous and painful few months.
My room was rather tidy, not that I was generally messy. But it had a stale, unused feeling about it that I hadn't felt in the rest of the apartment last night.
I pulled on a heathered navy T-shirt — the logo was a T-Rex trying to do push-ups — over my tank top and padded through the living room and down into the bakery.
I didn't stop for breakfast. I already knew what I wanted to eat. Oh, yes, cupcakes.
The bakery was closed today — Sunday — now that Bryn, my very accommodating and definitely underpaid employee, had stepped up to cover all my baking shifts. Sales had slowed a bit but not drastically — according to Scarlett, who'd taken over the books.
Yeah, everyone was stepping up while I was stepping out to kill my sister. I pushed the nasty thought away, clipped my curls into a twist at the back of my head, and retreated into the pantry.
Surrounded by the delicious smells of chocolate, vanilla, and spices, I just breathed for a moment, willing everything to be okay. Even though it wasn't, and I was fairly sure it never would be again.
I hauled all the ingredients I needed out of the pantry and set them down on the long stainless steel workstation that I'd had custom made to accommodate my height. The stacked ovens and walk-in fridge were behind me. I immediately did up a batch of _Lust in a Cup_ — dark chocolate cake with dark-chocolate cream-cheese icing — because if I only had time for a single batch, it was going to be my favorite.
While those cupcakes were baking, I did up a batch of _Cozy in a Cup_ with bananas Bryn had set aside. They looked perfectly ripe for the banana chocolate chip cake. I followed that up with an experimental recipe I'd been half-heartedly thinking about, something that combined the honeyed almond of Drake's magic and a hint of the spices of Shanghai, such as peppercorn or cumin. I only had ground coriander, so I had to settle.
Something was wrong with the _Lust in a Cups_. They were almost too perfectly formed, and darker brown than I remembered. I checked the cocoa packaging, but Bryn hadn't changed brands or percentages. I let them cool before frosting, thinking I was just out of practice.
Except... the _Cozy in a Cups_ looked more like _Puck in a Cups_. Was the baking soda old?
I was peering anxiously at the experimental cupcakes as they baked when Kandy wandered into the bakery kitchen from the back alley exit.
"Thought I'd find you here," the green-haired werewolf said as she snagged one of the newly frosted _Lust in a Cups_. I liked to wait until the icing hardened just a little before eating. That wasn't insanely picky when it was your own baking.
"You're up early," I said, not taking my eyes off the oven window.
Kandy shrugged. "Time change." She took a bite of the cupcake.
Then she spat it out.
Spat it out.
I stared at her, utterly aghast.
"Um," she mumbled as she crossed to the fridge and drank directly out of a container of milk. "I think you forgot something."
I reached for a cupcake, broke it in half, and tried a bite. "Sugar," I moaned. "I... I made an entire batch without sugar?"
"The frosting is good." Kandy licked the dark-chocolate cream-cheese icing off the remainder of her cupcake.
"I forgot the sugar?" I repeated, because it was an unprecedented event and bore repeating.
Kandy was now peering suspiciously at the batch of _Cozy in a Cup_ that I'd just transferred to a cooling rack. "What are these?"
"Cozys," I answered, feeling a little weak at the knees.
The timer buzzed. Dreading what I was about to see, I pulled the experimental batch out of the oven and put them on the counter.
Kandy and I stared at the tray.
"They don't smell right," she finally said.
I started crying. I had been fairly certain I was done with the tears before we left London, but I obviously wasn't.
Kandy wrapped her arms around me. Her magic tingled against the skin of my arms and filled my mouth with the taste of berry-infused dark chocolate with a fine bitter finish. She hugged me fiercely and didn't speak.
I got the tears under control much quicker this time.
"God, I feel so weak," I blubbered when I was capable of forming words.
"Yeah," Kandy muttered, her voice heavy with unreleased emotion. "I'm upset about the cupcakes too."
Then the green-haired werewolf released me. She shoved the mixing bowl of dark-chocolate buttercream icing for the _Puck in a Cup_ into my hands, along with a spatula.
"Who needs a spoon?" I muttered as I crammed a mouthful of frosting in.
"Exactly," Kandy said as she reached across the counter to retrieve a second spatula.
"London was a royal fuck-up," I said. Kandy didn't give a shit about my language, and I used the word with utter vehemence.
"Well, if you're going to go royal, there probably isn't a better place."
I laughed. My tears had dried on my face and my skin felt like it was going to crack, but I threw my head back and laughed.
Kandy rescued the bowl of icing, but not before I got another scoop and — in between weirdly inappropriate guffaws — stuffed it into my mouth.
"I can feel the chocolate coursing through my system," I said.
"That's the sugar. The chocolate hit comes later," Kandy said, sounding rather sage.
This statement renewed my laughter.
"I like your T-shirt," Kandy said. She was wearing one with a kumquat and an apple. It was obscene, as usual. I often wondered how she wore those T-shirts in public. I guess she just didn't care at all who she offended... or scarred for life.
I sobered and locked my gaze to the green-haired werewolf's. I offered her a sad smile, and she returned it along with a bump of her shoulder.
"I almost got you killed," I said.
"Nope."
And that was it. She just outright absolved me of any responsibility for London.
"It's going to happen again."
"Yep."
I took a deep breath, more for the oxygen to clear my head rather than a true sigh. "I need to go downstairs."
Kandy stiffened.
"I'm not leaving," I murmured, and the werewolf relaxed. She thought I meant the portal in the bakery basement, when what I really needed was a place to cast. A place accustomed to my magic. I was a terrible witch — spell-wise — I needed all the help I could get.
Kandy's eyes gleamed the green of her shapeshifter magic, and she bared her teeth in her predator smile. "A spell?"
"Yeah."
"Then you'll bake again? Because this shit is unacceptable."
This time when I laughed, Kandy joined me.
We were still laughing as we wandered upstairs to wake Scarlett and retrieve Blackwell's demon book.
"Explain it again," Gran said. Her tone — though carefully measured — sounded full of doubt.
I sighed.
Gran, Scarlett, Kandy, and I were seated around the witches' circle I'd inscribed in the hard-packed dirt floor of the bakery basement with a broom handle. The portal on the east wall at my back thrummed sleepily, but I didn't need it today. Boxes that predated the bakery were piled neatly on wooden pallets to one side. The ceiling was low enough to touch, and the walls were concrete-patched brick. Gran hadn't allowed me to renovate the basement when I'd taken over the lease and opened the bakery. I hadn't understood why until I'd discovered the portal's existence — or rather, Sienna discovered the portal and then tried to torture me into opening it.
"I know it might not work," I said. "But it's the only clue we have right now. And the sorcerer said —"
"Blackwell," Scarlett spat.
"I know no one likes him, but you can't deny he is powerful, and —"
"Too powerful," Gran interrupted. "And with an agenda where you are concerned."
"Right," I muttered sarcastically, "he's figured out a way to capture me, or drain my magic, or hypnotize me with this stupid duplicated demon book just as soon as I cast a spell."
"Well, that seems far-fetched," Gran said.
Kandy started laughing. Scarlett grinned, and suddenly all the tension diffused from the basement storage room. Yeah, that was my mother's magic and it packed a lot of mojo.
"The dowser is still pissed about the cupcakes," Kandy said. She was sitting cross-legged in the dirt on the west side of the witches' circle. Sienna's spot. You know, from before my sister became all blood crazed and power lusty.
"You would be too," I snapped at the werewolf. Then I smiled.
Gran gave a soft 'humph' and I knew we were settled enough to move forward.
My grandmother sat at the north side of the circle and Scarlett sat at the south. Gran had been waiting for us in the bakery kitchen after we'd managed to drag Scarlett out of bed. She'd been frowning in the general vicinity of the cupcakes. As soon as I had a moment, I needed to hide the evidence before anyone else saw the disaster in the bakery, and the dumpster out back was the best choice.
I placed the book of demon history in the middle of the circle and then nodded to Kandy to light her pillar candle. We each had a candle sitting on the edge of the circle, but not touching. Kandy, Scarlett, and I sat cross-legged. Gran had brought a yoga block to perch on. It was a great idea, which I might appropriate. You know, if I ever tried to cast again.
"There was this witch in Scotland, Amber —"
"Cameron," Gran interjected as she lit her candle with the taper Kandy passed to her.
"Yeah. She carried these ancestral stones with her, which got me thinking about my witch magic and how it's way stronger here, I think. You know, beneath my home. Near the portal."
"Ancestral land," Gran said. She sounded exceedingly intrigued by my mention of the stones. I was probably in for an interrogation later.
"And with the addition of you and mom here, I thought I just might be able to cast a seek spell for Sienna."
"With a book." Gran was back to doubting without sounding at all doubtful.
"I'm just looking for a hint. This book is tied to the original by a thin thread of magic, and maybe the original is aware of where it is?" The question fell on hesitant ears, though Scarlett did smile encouragingly. Yeah, I got that the book was an inanimate object.
I lit my candle and passed the taper to Scarlett.
"Don't we need a map?" Kandy asked. "Wouldn't that help?"
"Magic is rarely literal," Gran said.
With Scarlett's candle lit, we all raised our pillars and blew a breath through the flame toward the circle. Not hard enough to snuff out the flame, but just enough to pass some of our magic into the circle.
There was a chance none of this mattered... the circle, the candles, the breath of magic. But this was how casting a circle worked for me, so this is what I did.
For a brief moment, Kandy's eyes glowed green as Scarlett's and Gran's glowed blue. I felt their combined magic whirl around in the circle. I presumed mine was in the mix — though I couldn't taste it — and the circle closed. The combined magic whirled in a storm of green and blue before me, dancing over the book and testing the edges of the circle like a capricious child.
"I seek — as I have done before — my sister, Sienna." Though speaking out loud wasn't actually necessary, I found it easier to make my intention clear through vocalization. "She holds this book. Where is it?"
The magic dipped and swirled around the book. I could imagine it tasting and testing the residual duplicated magic of the sorcerer who wrote the demon histories collected within the leather binding.
Nothing else happened.
"She seeks something in this book. Something interests her in this book," I said.
The book flipped open, the pages fanning back and forth. The magic intensified and dipped again, tasting, testing, seeking. Then the pages settled.
The four of us leaned forward.
"Thank you," I murmured, like the magic was a dutiful puppy.
The book was open to a tale of a demonic summoning that had happened on the west coast of a large island. It included a sketched map, which looked a lot like the Pacific Rim National Park on Vancouver Island. Or, specifically, Long Beach, which ran between Tofino and Ucluelet.
"Sea demons?" I asked. "What does that have to do with —"
Gran gasped. I flinched. I'd never heard that sound from her before, and it had shocked me right in the pit of my frosting-filled stomach.
The magic of the circle snapped and was gone.
"What is it?" I asked, already dreading the answer.
Gran held out a shaking hand to the inked picture that accompanied the tale. It depicted a long wooden shaft with a hand-carved stone arrowhead and feathers on its butt end. It looked like it was of First Nations design.
Scarlett moaned.
Then it hit me. Gran owned this spear. It hung in her study, almost hidden behind the mountain of books.
"Your grandfather," Gran said, then faltered. She held a shaky hand to her mouth and looked over at Scarlett. I'd never seen her look to her daughter for support before... and neither had my mother. Scarlett absorbed the responsibility quickly.
"Is it still in the study?" Scarlett asked.
"I... I'm sure it is," Gran said, not sounding at all sure.
"Did you change the wards, Gran?" I asked.
She looked at me with tear-filled eyes and shook her head. Sienna would have unhindered access to Gran's home. She could come and go without Gran knowing as well, because Gran couldn't taste residual magic like I could.
"How many?" Kandy asked. She steadied her voice. "How many fucking demons?"
I glanced down at the book. It was still open to the specific chronicle, but I had already practically memorized every story already.
"Dozens." I was feeling dizzy, though I was still sitting down.
"Impossible," Scarlett said.
I locked my gaze to Kandy's. I'd never seen the werewolf look frightened before. I imagined that terror was echoed on my face.
"Okay," Scarlett continued. "First, we need to figure out if the spear is gone. With all due respect, I've never seen a seek spell work like this —"
"Jade's magic is not to be underestimated," Gran said.
That should have felt like praise. It should have felt like support — but it felt way more like a warning.
Damn it all to hell... which was exactly where we were all going if the magic and the book were correct. Hell on the gray-sand beaches of beautiful Tofino.
The four of us stood staring at the blank space on Gran's study wall that had once held the native spear. Not that I'd even really taken notice of it before today, before it was gone. But Sienna would have. My sister had always been far more interested in magic than I was. I imagined how gleeful she must have been when she'd recognized the drawing of the spear in the chronicle. I wondered when she took it. Did she risk coming back to Vancouver with Mory in tow? Or did she return after London? After she'd test run the triple demon summoning?
I couldn't taste any residual magic in the study other than Gran's. But then, when Sienna wanted to pass unnoticed she knew how to hide her magic from me.
Scarlett was poring over the entry in Blackwell's demon history book. Her strawberry-blond hair formed a waterfall all around the black leather binding. I was fairly certain she'd read it at least four times now.
"Does it have a date?" Kandy asked. "Sienna seemed big on the anniversary in London."
Scarlett shook her head, making her curls dance. I wasn't sure Kandy caught the gesture, so I spoke up. "No date. Not even a season. And I'm guessing at the location —"
"No," Scarlett said. "You're right... a beach discovered by James Cook... called Nootka Sound. That's 1778 or so."
"Yeah. It was the description of the long beach on the Pacific coast that solidified it for me." My sarcasm fell on preoccupied ears, and that was okay because it wasn't terribly witty.
"Native spear. West coast of Vancouver Island," Kandy said. "Standard Adept protocol is we contact the skinwalkers."
"What? No," I said. "No. No. They don't want protocol or to be interfered with —"
"That's a good idea, Kandy," Scarlett said, continuing to ignore me.
Gran sat down heavily on an antique chaise lounge that I wasn't sure had ever been used before. Her magic was sparking off her in a way that unnerved me. I'd been trying to ignore it.
Gran's movement drew Scarlett's gaze from the book, but not her full attention. "Will you go?" she asked Kandy.
"Already gone," Kandy said as she headed for the door.
"Wait," I cried. "They'll see it as protecting their territory. They will want to come —"
"I hope so," Scarlett said, grim and matter-of-fact about it. "We'll wait for Desmond and however many shifters he can rally quickly, then we'll head for the ferry."
Kandy nodded and left. I sat heavily on the end of the chaise and stared at my mother. Some power shift had happened and I wasn't sure when... or what was actually going on.
"Desmond?" I asked weakly.
"Yes. Kandy's been texting with him since you came back from London. Well, since London, I think. He's just been waiting for word."
"I've been so wrong..." Gran was whispering behind my back, so I swiveled to look at her. "So wrong about how I raised you and Sienna —"
"That's not needed right now, Pearl," Scarlett said.
I whirled back to stare at my mother. She looked strong and defiant. Her magic rolled across her eyes as she reached over to tuck my chin up. Yep, I'd been hanging my mouth open.
Scarlett held her fingers underneath my chin and smiled at me, that tender smile she reserved for me alone. "Will he come?" she whispered. "If you ask, will he come?"
It took me a second to figure out who she meant. Yazi, my father. God, I wondered if it hurt her to ask me. We hadn't discussed him much during our hurried conversations the few brief moments I'd managed to step out of the nexus. He was too epic for a phone conversation — epically life-altering... and yet not, because Gran and Scarlett were and always would be my family. I believed Scarlett loved him — though they'd only had that one night together — but his sheer power frightened her as well. This was why she and Gran had kept me so cloistered my entire childhood. The fear of what I was capable of and what attention that would draw from other Adepts — like Blackwell — who'd try to take advantage of my magic.
"If we can't stop dozens of demons from rising on the west coast, he'll come," I said. "One black witch isn't a big enough threat to draw the guardians' attention. They oversee the entire magical and human world. But dozens of demons would be."
"But he... Yazi might come if you asked," Scarlett said.
"It's my mess." Suanmi had really driven that home for me, like a spear through my heart ironically.
"No, Jade," Gran interjected. "It's beyond that now. It never was your fault."
"Fine," I said. "He'd come. If I could find him quickly. And if the world isn't ending somewhere. He doesn't exactly have a cellphone. The guardians aren't gods. They're not even all nice people. But it's Haoxin's territory. She might come."
"Ah. That explains this entry," Scarlett said. "He... your father is the warrior that the sorcerer makes note of." She looked back down at the book in her hands. " 'And at the side of Haoxin, a warrior with a golden sword came to the aid of the beleaguered natives.' The writer goes on to assume they were sorcerers."
"Of course he does."
"So this Haoxin —"
"Different person."
"Sorry?"
"It was 1778, right? Best I've been able to figure, Yazi would have just become a guardian then. The Haoxin I've met is newly... I don't know, ordained, ascended. Like only a hundred years old or so."
Scarlett was staring at me, the book all but forgotten in her hands.
I changed the subject. "The sorcerer doesn't say how the demons were summoned or what triggered the rising."
"No," Scarlett agreed. "Which hopefully means Sienna won't know either."
"But it also means she'll try everything she can think of." My mind flashed to the memory of the altered sacrificial knife in my sister's hands.
"Will you ask him then? Or Haoxin, if you can't find your father?"
I pushed past the dread settling in my stomach — the dread of what that knife might do in Sienna's hands. "I could go through the portal in the basement, but..."
"You might not make it back in time."
I nodded. Suanmi's warning had been very, very real, and it resonated with my own guilt.
"I left spur of the moment," I said. "I was afraid they wouldn't let me go, not that they would force me to stay, but it's just... Chi Wen's vision."
"I know, my Jade," Scarlett said. She touched my shoulder, and her magic brushed against me soothingly. We might not have spoken about my father, but I had recounted the vision to my mother. I'd needed her and Gran to understand why I hadn't returned.
"I didn't want the far seer to show me anything else. I didn't know I wasn't going back right away. I'm so sorry."
"You always do your best," Gran said.
I didn't believe her, not deep in my soul. London weighed on me.
"We'll call the necromancers," Scarlett said, rapidly changing the subject.
"What? No," I said. "The skinwalkers are bad enough. The necromancers have no defensive magic. They're both practically human."
"You said the demons were previously vanquished."
"It should be impossible," Gran said with a sigh.
"Yes, but —"
"Then we'll need the necromancers. And Pearl, how many witches are near enough to be here for the last ferry tonight?"
"Three," Gran answered. "With two more already on the island."
"Wait!" I cried. "You... you're talking about an army."
"Yes," Scarlett said. "It's too bad the sorcerer is not to be trusted and that Kett is... dead." She ran her fingers through my curls, then went back to reread the chronicle again.
I turned to look at Gran, utterly aghast. "But —"
"This affects all of us, Jade," Gran said. "What will Sienna do with a horde of demons?"
"I don't know," I whispered.
"The blood magic has her now," Gran said. "I'm so sorry I didn't see it. I never thought her capable."
"You never thought me capable," I said. I wasn't sure why I needed to return to that sore point now, when Gran was already deep into self-flagellation.
Pearl Godfrey, who'd been the most powerful person I'd known for twenty-three years — and was still the most powerful witch I knew — nodded sadly.
Then she rose to help her daughter, a witch whose powers were focused on charm and charisma, plan a war.
By the time I made it back to the bakery, Mory was in the kitchen eating the _Pucks in a Cup_. Apparently, the necromancer had no taste buds... and an iron stomach.
"Stop that," I said, dumping everything in the garbage and offering the fledgling necromancer a banana instead.
She looked at this offer skeptically. I'd just fallen a few notches of cool in her estimation. I hadn't been aware I could actually go farther down.
"You said you'd fix my necklace," Mory said.
I nodded. "Does your mother know you're here?"
Mory shrugged, but it looked more like a 'yes' than a 'no', so I let it go.
I reached for the necklace and Mory backed up a step while clutching the chain to her chest. "I don't want to take it off."
I tried to smile but the expression just twisted on my face.
Mory dropped her gaze from mine.
"Let's go upstairs," I said. "I'll fix it there. No one can get through the wards without my permission." I, unlike Gran, had changed my apartment wards six months ago. Maybe it was a good thing to underestimate yourself sometimes. Gran's confidence had practically handed Sienna the spear... though before I got too high and mighty, the knife I'd pretty much gifted Sienna with was probably far more deadly than the spear.
"Are there cookies upstairs?" Mory asked as I led her to the back stairs.
I folded the wards around her as we climbed.
"There will be," I said, figuring I'd be more successful baking for Mory than for myself. Yeah, I wasn't totally thick about my magic all the time. I knew I'd ruined those cupcakes because I felt I didn't deserve them.
"My mom's been on the phone all morning," Mory said. "A bunch of people are trying to fly in."
"Yeah," I answered as we entered the apartment living room and I prepared to invade my mother's privacy. Though to be fair, she was the one who'd taken over my craft room in the first place. I needed supplies to fix Mory's necklace. "The Adepts of the West Coast are building an army."
Mory nodded sagely and allowed me to lift the necklace off over her head. She'd showered and was once again outfitted in her not-goth-not-army-brat-but-almost clothing.
My desk — tidied but relatively undisturbed — was still situated underneath the north-facing windows. Normally, this offered a breathtaking view of the North Shore mountains, but today all I saw was fog. The world looked like it ended a block north of my apartment building. I shuddered, laid the necklace on the desk, and resolutely started digging through the far-too-tidy drawers for tools.
"Nice bed," Mory muttered, not a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
My mother favored silks and vibrant colors. I wasn't sure how she kept her duvet quite that poofy, or how she had so many pillows perfectly piled on the queen-sized bed she'd crammed into the room. I suspected magic.
"The shapeshifters and witches are coming?" Mory asked.
I nodded as I inspected the oddly tarnished gold chain.
"And the vampires?"
"No."
Mory nodded, not as relieved as I thought she would be. None of the Adept got along with vampires, but least of all, necromancers. There was some history there that Kett had only hinted at — something about how vampires had been created in the first place, and how powerful necromancers could control the undead. All the undead.
"But there will be cookies, right?" Mory asked as she threw herself down on Scarlett's neatly made bed. "Before we all go to fight Sienna and probably die?"
I laughed. Trust a necromancer to be blasé about impending death. It was also the first time I'd heard Mory refer to my sister by name. I took that as a good sign. A sign of healing.
I began to polish the necklace. The tarnish came off easily underneath the cloth, with a little help from my magic. I let my eyes unfocus and my fingers move beneath my conscious awareness, while I thought about everything I'd put off thinking about.
I thought about Blackwell's fog spell, the one I'd trapped in my sword. The spell had held Kett until he'd transformed himself... or allowed himself to go bestial to counter the sorcerer's magic. I thought about the dampening collar in Blackwell's possession, and how I was going to have to survive to do something about that. Then I thought about Sienna slowly siphoning necromancer powers from Mory, despite the protection of the necklace.
"How long did it take Sienna to learn to block Rusty?" I asked.
"What?" Mory answered sleepily.
I glanced at the perfectly polished necklace in my hands, then at Scarlett's alarm clock by the bed.
It was 11:34 a.m. More time had passed than I'd thought.
"After Sienna learned to block Rusty, she could start siphoning your magic?"
"Bit by bit, in both cases," Mory answered as she flopped over onto her stomach and propped her chin in her hand to look at me. "Why?"
"I'm not sure yet... but it won't happen again."
I stood up and gently lowered the necklace over Mory's head. The necromancer patted the chain and then smiled at me.
"I don't hate you," she said.
"Well, that's good," I answered. "Because I'm going to need your help with the cookies. If the shapeshifters are coming, we're going to need dozens."
"Dozens?" Mory echoed. Then she asked, "You want me to bake with you?" as if I'd just asked her to marry me.
"Yeah," I said, returning the smile. The fledgling necromancer was going to be all right... until we met Sienna again. There was no chance we'd manage to keep Mory at home without spelling her.
# 14
So I waited... and baked. I flinched as each text came in on my phone — until Mory muted it, after which I jumped each time it vibrated on the counter.
One text announced Kandy's arrival in Squamish. I gathered that her demanding to see the old lady with all the beastly kids didn't go over well with the band. We'd inadvertently trespassed on the skinwalkers' territory three months ago. Unfortunately, at the time they were kidnapping us, we didn't get actual names to go with the animals the skinwalkers would cloak themselves in. At least Kandy and I didn't. Kett might have, but obviously that knowledge was lost now...along with all the knowledge and truth he'd collected over centuries of life. Yeah, I was hanging on the precipice of maudlin... still.
A second text announced the first of three witches arriving — as summoned — to Gran's house. Scarlett was sending out cc'd messages now. I wasn't even aware my phone could do that.
The third and fourth texts were about necromancers — it seemed Mory was 'missing again.' This forced me to pick up my phone and communicate her location — my apartment — and activity — baking peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.
Unsurprisingly, after this second round of text messages, the first knock at the door wasn't the one I'd been dreading. Though had I known it was coming, I probably should have been worried. I opened the door to reveal Mory's mom, Danica. The necromancer looked more put together than she had at the airport, but she didn't actually smile until she laid eyes on Mory over my shoulder.
"Jade," she said, and though I thought she was going to launch into some speech, she rather awkwardly didn't continue.
"Would you like to come in?" I asked, stepping back and reaching out for the magic of the wards.
"No." She beckoned for Mory. "We don't have much time before the seven o'clock ferry. I understand we're all trying to meet there."
Um, yeah. I hadn't gotten that text yet.
Mory stepped by me and handed her mother three fresh baked cookies wrapped in paper towel.
Danica's gaze fell on Mory's necklace. "You fixed it, then?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Thank you... I know what it does, what it protects her from. Thank you."
She meant Rusty, her own son whose ghost had almost managed to kill Mory the first time he'd tried to go after Sienna. I still wasn't sure about Rusty myself, but it must pain Danica incredibly to know such terrible things about her son.
I nodded, pushing away the tears that seemed to be constantly on the edge of falling these days.
"We — the necromancers and I — will need to know more about the demons in London. Mory says they were somehow reanimated?"
"Yeah. Previously vanquished and supposedly impossible to summon. Mory, Kandy, and I were all there. We might have all seen different things."
"But you felt their magic and the magic that was used to... reanimate or resummon them?"
"Yes, but I hope to God Sienna doesn't try to use the same spell. She somehow substituted the sorcerers' corpses for the demons' bodies, I think. They were like... vessels, maybe."
Danica's jaw tensed at my mention of my sister. Yeah, if she'd killed my son and kidnapped my daughter, I'd become very proficient at death curses if there was such a thing.
"There aren't enough sorcerers to sacrifice in the world," Mory said as she broke a piece from one of the cookies her mother held. "There are going to be dozens of demons this time."
Mory's blasé attitude threw me again. I was still haunted by seeing the demons in London tear their way out of the corpses of the sorcerers, then eating their hosts.
"We'll just have to stop the summoning beforehand this time," I said. Yeah, that sounded weak and pathetic to my own ears as well.
"I'll need as many specifics as you can give me, of the spell, the rising, and of the demons," Danica said. "If we're to have any hope of controlling what your sister raises."
"Of course," I said, though I had to swallow past the lump in my throat to speak. "It was a sorcerer spell, so I might be guessing at some parts."
"I'll speak to the werewolf, Kandy, as well," Danica continued. "We'll see you on the ferry."
The necromancer turned away. Mory followed, turning back to wave before she hit the front stairs.
I closed the door and quickly crossed back to the kitchen to start packing up the cookies as I waited for the final batches to bake. I concentrated solely on this task, and despite Danica's request, attempted to not remember the demons of London any more than I already did.
I needed to pack as well, but other than my sword, I didn't have much to bring that I wasn't already wearing. I never took off my necklace, and my jade knife was almost always strapped across my right hip. I looked down at my jeans and flip-flops. My dragon trainer, Branson, would be appalled about me going into battle like this... I might have an old pair of leather pants somewhere...
The second knock on the front door — the one I'd been dreading and yet anticipating — came after a text confirmed the plan to be on the seven o'clock ferry. Another text informed us that Kandy was on the way to the ferry terminal now with a contingent of skinwalkers.
I opened the door to find Desmond leaning against the frame, looking back over his shoulder. I had a heartbeat to absorb his impossibly broad shoulders, tawny short-cropped hair, and chiseled jaw before he turned his green-flecked golden-brown eyes on me.
"Desmond Charles Llewelyn," I breathed.
"That's alpha to you, alchemist," Desmond drawled. He wasn't a drawler, though — he was attempting to be playful. A little of the metaphorical weight that was crushing me eased.
"Hi, Jade," Lara called, drawing my attention over Desmond's shoulder toward Kandy's apartment across the way. Last time I'd seen Lara, who was one of Desmond's enforcers, she'd been a breath away from dying because my sister had wanted my undivided attention.
"Hi, Lara."
As I watched, the lovely werewolf grabbed Kandy's spare key out from underneath a seventy-pound planter. I was seriously glad to see her on her feet. Even if her purple-glossed bee-stung lips made me insanely jealous.
"You take too much on yourself, Jade," Desmond said, pitching his voice low. He'd been watching me watch Lara, who entered Kandy's apartment and disappeared from my sight.
"Well, that's the kettle talking, isn't it? Alpha?"
"No. I take responsibility only for my own. You seem to think that nothing bad happens without your stirring of the pot first."
I squared my shoulders and jutted out my chin. "I had nothing to do with that tsunami that happened last month."
"Are you sure? I heard you batted your eyelashes at some sorcerer in Hawaii."
"I would never," I exclaimed with mock indignation. Yes, Desmond Llewelyn, Lord and Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack was flirting with me.
We really were all going to die.
"Let me in, little witch," he murmured. "I like the pants."
I was wearing a pair of red leather pants. I couldn't find anything else remotely as sturdy. I'd found a high-buttoned black leather vest in the back of my closet that I was guessing was actually Sienna's because it was rather tight across the chest. I'd planned to throw on a T-shirt and my 7th Heaven Zachary boots — black lace-up Fluevogs — but was glad I hadn't yet when Desmond's gaze snagged on my breasts. Finally, someone found me more interesting than my necklace.
"What about the rest of the outfit?" I said, not budging from the doorway.
"Looks like it's restricting your breathing," Desmond said, his face full of concern. "I can help you with that."
I laughed. "We have to leave in fifteen minutes. It's a forty-five minute drive to the ferry."
Desmond swore under his breath, then offered me a grin. I'd never seen him this relaxed. Going to war suited him... or perhaps it was the threat of impending death.
"Later, then," he promised.
I nodded. "After the life debt is resolved."
He tilted his head to look at me and then shrugged his shoulders. "It makes no difference to me, but if it would make you more... settled, fine."
"You were going to say 'easy,' and I think that's already been established in your case."
He laughed.
"But yeah, it would make me feel better. And..." I hesitated. He hadn't asked me why I hadn't called in three months. He hadn't asked me why I didn't walk through the portal after him. I wasn't sure, with his currently relaxed flirting, if any of that even mattered to him or if somehow he already understood.
"And... I didn't call."
"No, you didn't."
"I... I saw something in the nexus."
"Is that where we were?"
"Yeah."
"You saw something that made you not call?"
"Yes, no. I didn't know where we stood."
"Outside your front door apparently," Desmond drawled, but he wasn't exactly amused.
I didn't want to talk about the vision Chi Wen the far seer had showed me any more than Desmond wanted to listen, so I took the opportunity to shut my mouth.
"Want to help me carry the cookies?" I asked, as seductively as I could when actually talking about baked goods.
"Hell, yes," he replied as he stepped through the wards. I folded the magic around him to allow him entry into the apartment.
"I figured we have time for a hello-haven't-seen-you-in-three-months-kiss as well," I said to his broad shoulders as I closed the door behind me.
He turned and pulled me to him before all the words were out of my mouth. "Yeah, I got that," he said, right before he laid a blazing kiss on me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and the back of his neck, and opened my mouth to his tongue and his delicious magic. Smooth, dark chocolate — more citrusy than Kandy's berry, and without the bitter finish — rolled over all my senses... taste, smell, and touch. Desmond's magic curled over and around me. His skin was hot underneath my roaming hands.
The kiss was brutal — almost punishingly so. Eons away from the playful way he'd teased me in the bakery kitchen three months ago. As if he was punishing me for being gone so long and welcoming me home at the same time.
I aligned my body all along his. He was only a couple of inches taller than me, and my legs were long enough that we matched up in all the right places. He wasn't dampening his magic now.
His tongue darted against mine. His stubble was rough against my upper lip.
He groaned as I tugged his T-shirt out of his jeans and had my way with the skin of his overly muscled back. His magic sparked underneath my hands like the shock of static electricity.
I briefly contemplated how quickly I could get my clothes off, find a condom, and get to the bed — or any surface with a bit of give, actually — then orgasm and get dressed again.
"We don't have enough time," I muttered against his lips.
"We're waiting, remember?" he answered. Then, with an effort that he made seem Herculean, Desmond pulled himself away from me and crossed — walking rather uncomfortably — to the kitchen sink.
I flushed further — heat spreading up my chest to my face — as I remembered why his gait was so hindered. I'd seen and felt that region of his body very clearly during our first make-out session in the Squamish forest, three and a half months ago.
Desmond poured a glass of water and downed it.
Then he pierced me with a stare that made me estimate my ability to clear the kitchen island in a single bound.
He laughed, shook his head, and poured another glass of water.
I laughed too — a little sadly, because the moment of sexy reprieve was over. Then I grabbed a T-shirt, a knit hat, and my sword from the bedroom.
It was going to be a terrible day... or evening... or tomorrow, whenever. If that was going to be my last kiss... well, I kind of wished Desmond had gotten into town sooner.
I grabbed a two-pound bag of 72-percent Valrhona chocolate — Araguani, a single origin from Venezuela — out of the bakery pantry before we climbed into Desmond's SUV, which he'd parked illegally in the alley beside the dumpster. The chocolate was quickly proven completely unnecessary, because there was a custom box of See's Candies waiting for me in the passenger seat. Yep, filled with my favorites and miraculously untouched by the werewolves.
"I'm really glad you didn't lead with this," I teased Desmond as he climbed into the driver's seat beside me. I stopped to inhale the intoxicating aroma of the opened box. "I would have had to have you on the kitchen floor."
"Shit," Desmond responded. "I'll remember that for next time."
"Make sure you do." I grinned at him and popped a _Scotchmallow_ in my mouth.
Both sets of back doors opened. Lara climbed in behind Desmond and Audrey climbed in behind me. Delightful. I wasn't exactly friendly with Audrey — a striking brunette werewolf, who always looked sleek and perfectly-coiffed whatever she was doing. She also had a habit of fawning over Desmond in a way that really irked me. I'd seen her made Desmond's provisional beta three months ago. She couldn't hold a candle to Hudson — Desmond's previous beta who Sienna had murdered because I'd drawn his attention. She didn't have an ounce of Hudson's charm or diplomacy, but I gathered she didn't even bother trying.
"Don't share," Desmond whispered as he started the SUV.
"Now that wouldn't be like me at all." I held the box out for him.
He grinned and selected a dark chocolate caramel — my second favorite.
Then I passed the box back to the werewolves as Desmond, shaking his head at my stupid generosity, turned right out of the alley and headed down the hill in the direction of Burrard Street Bridge.
"Time to hunt," Audrey said, far too gleefully for my taste.
"It's a seven-hour trip," I said, just to shut her up. Beta or no beta, she totally got under my skin.
She bared her teeth at me in the rearview mirror while Desmond was checking his blind spot, so the feeling was mutual.
But she'd still fight and kill at my side.
My sister was an unintentionally unifying force. The Adept of the West Coast would never be the same. If, you know, any of us were alive tomorrow.
We didn't exactly drive in tandem with the witches and necromancers, but with the text messages flying around the SUV, we might as well have been. We sped over the Lion's Gate Bridge, climbed the North Shore to reach the Upper Levels highway, and arrived at the ferry terminal with thirty minutes to spare.
Despite the fact that it was practically pitch dark at 6:30 p.m., and I was nestled in the huge SUV with a box of chocolates as my comfort blanket, I still felt the moment Kandy arrived with the skinwalkers. They were parked in two cars about twenty cars behind and one lane to the right of us. The witches — Gran, Scarlett, and three others I'd never met — were parked ahead. I didn't sense the necromancers until we were loading onto the ferry.
It was going to be a rough ride surrounded by this much magic. And the questions... I imagined everyone would have questions.
Desmond brought thirteen shapeshifters with him. That, added to three necromancers and the fledgling Mory, five skinwalkers, seven witches — including the two already on the island — plus Kandy and me made thirty-two Adepts.
Deep down in my heart — or maybe that was my soul — I knew it wasn't going to be enough.
All the different magic I was feeling had me jittery and off balance. I stayed in the SUV on the car deck while the shapeshifters cleared the restaurant out of food. I gathered the skinwalkers opted for the cafeteria, and the necromancers stuck with coffee from the onboard Starbucks. Even Kandy was distant, prowling around as if securing enemy territory. All of us on the same ferry, headed toward the same destiny, and still the Adept didn't intermingle. They even took turns — dictated by some unwritten schedule I didn't have a copy of — visiting me.
First, the elder skinwalker crossed the three lanes of parked cars between us. I saw her and started to open the SUV door, but she waved the gesture off as she approached. I unrolled the window instead, glad I didn't need the car keys to do so because Desmond hadn't left them with me.
Kandy slipped up to stand beside my window. The elder eyed me for a moment and then looked pointedly at Kandy.
"Elder Thomas," Kandy said.
"Call me Rebecca," the elder said as she dipped her head toward me. The raven feathers she wore almost disappeared against her dark hair, which was shot with steel gray, center parted, and pulled to the sides in two braids.
"She doesn't like being referred to as 'raven,' " Kandy cautioned me. Rebecca could indeed wear the guise of a raven when it suited her to do so — like when she was encouraging her skinwalker children to chase me through the woods and scare me into a river.
"Ms. Thomas, thank you..." I began, but she cut me off with a raised hand.
"The spear shouldn't be in the hands of a black witch," she said. "And many of our people live in the area where your mother fears the demons will walk. We will protect them tooth and claw, if necessary."
"All right," I said. "It's just —"
"We take responsibility for our own. We're not as weak as you think."
"I don't think that."
"Then trust we will do our part, but not be stupid about it."
I nodded and glanced over the elder's shoulder. A man and a woman stood behind her, close enough to hear our conversation but far enough away to stay out of it. He was in his mid-thirties and, if memory served, cloaked himself in the guise of a grizzly bear. I thought his younger sister, the resemblance was obvious, was the skinwalker who cloaked herself in the guise of a black bear.
The elder followed my gaze and smiled. "My son, Gord, and daughter, Drew," she offered.
I exchanged nods with the bears. I didn't see the red fox or the coyote, but I could feel their magic nearby. The skinwalker magic was similar in color to the shapeshifters', but tasted of wild onion and huckleberries.
"And your granddaughter? Has she been chosen by her spirit animal yet?" I knew it was on the edge of rude to ask after the private magic of the brave teen I'd met in the Squamish forest, but I needed to know. I needed to know that the skinwalkers would survive and thrive, and that Sienna wouldn't ruin — couldn't ruin — everything.
The elder smiled in a tight, fleeting gesture. "The raven blessed our family for the second time, but I have a feeling that Maia will walk in whatever skin she pleases by the time she is my age."
"She is not with you."
"At home with her grandfather," the elder answered. "You see, Jade Godfrey, we're not careless."
I nodded, pissed that people were short with me whether I cared too much and worried, or if I just barreled into situations without thinking. I didn't say anything, though. I knew when to respect my elders.
"I brought cookies," I said.
"No cupcakes?" the elder teased with a much more honest smile.
"No. For those, you'll have to come to the bakery," I said, repeating my invitation from months before.
Kandy opened the back door and reached into the inner hatch to extract one of the bakery boxes I'd packed with cookies.
The elder took the offering, then turned away to the stairs that led up to the passenger deck without another word.
"One down, twenty-nine to go," Kandy murmured, referring to the other Adepts onboard the ferry with us.
"God, I hope not," I said. "Want to share a box of those with me?"
"Hell, yeah."
"Grab the cowboy cookies."
Kandy climbed into the back seat and dug through the boxes of cookies while I watched another group of Adept approach through the rows of cars. I was pretty much trapped in a large, steel box over freezing cold ocean, miles and miles away from land. It was going to be a long trip.
"Necromancers, twelve o'clock," Kandy muttered behind me. Her mouth was already crammed full of cookie.
"Geez, you could have shared before chowing down." The coconut — paired with chunks of dark chocolate and oats — was what made the cowboy cookies supremely tasty.
"This is my second... nope, third one." Kandy chortled to herself as she stepped out of the SUV, facing off with Danica and her crew as they neared our vehicle.
These questions were going to be harder. At least Mory wasn't with them. I really didn't want to recount the demon summoning in London while the fledgling watched me. I shivered and tugged my knit hat lower over my ears. Why the hell I'd grabbed a hat and not a coat, I have no idea. I decided to blame Desmond for my forgetfulness and felt immediately better.
After an hour on the ferry, I felt drained of information. After an hour and a half, I felt like I had nothing left to give. Right before the ferry docked at the Departure Bay terminal in Nanaimo, Kandy rescued me with a piece of terrible cafeteria cheesecake that I gobbled up. Then I licked the plastic container. There was a lot of my childhood wrapped up in ferry cheesecake, most of it spent with Sienna, but I didn't dwell on that any longer than it took me to eat.
It was past time to put that all behind me. Not in a denial sort of way, but in an acknowledged 'that happened, that made me who I am, let's move forward' way. You know, like a real adult... with a shiny new sword.
# 15
Tofino was one of my favorite places in the world, not that I got there more than once every three years or so. I usually loved every minute of the drive. But normally it wasn't so dark that I couldn't see the view, and I wasn't driving with a maniac shapeshifter who liked to double the posted speed limits on the hairpin turns.
We were winding through the mountain pass that separated the east and west coasts of Vancouver Island. I shrieked — for the second time — at the cliff face barreling toward me, inches from the front bumper in the headlights.
Desmond laughed, delighted at my reaction. He even managed to not crash the vehicle.
"Just because your reactions are faster than a human's doesn't mean a car is meant to be driven like this," I snapped.
"The GL550 is a high-performance luxury SUV," Desmond responded, still chuckling.
"Sure, like an army tank. It's not a sports car."
Desmond looked affronted. Then he grinned and stepped on the gas as if to prove his point. Shapeshifter games. Why did I keep stumbling into them... and why wasn't I traveling with the witches? Oh, right — because they asked too many questions, thinking I was one of their own so interrogating me wasn't a breach of etiquette. The shapeshifters weren't a wordy bunch.
"Shouldn't your beta be riding in a separate car? You know, in case you kill us all with your insane driving?"
Desmond glanced up at Audrey in the rearview mirror. "Beta-elect," he said, as if that should answer my question.
The road went down to a single lane and the cliff on the righthand side of the SUV dropped off into inky darkness. Desmond finally slowed, though he still sped on the straightaways or passing lanes. I guessed he'd proven his point and thankfully didn't actually want to drive us off a cliff.
"So tell me," Desmond said quietly in the dark between us. "Tell me what you haven't told the others."
My stomach bottomed out. I hadn't been deliberately lying to anyone, but the fact that I was an alchemist was still closely guarded, need-to-know info. Only a handful of people knew... if I didn't count the dragons.
"I made something," I said.
"In London?"
"Yes. With the knife that Sienna used to kill Jeremy."
Desmond twisted his hands, but then deliberately released them when the steering wheel groaned in protest.
"The sorcerers were dying," I continued, pushing past the fear of telling him, the fear of them all hating me before the night was over. "I might have been able to get Mory free with my knife, but..."
"It would have taken too long," Kandy said — blunt but kind — from the back seat.
"Yeah," I agreed. "I took what magic Sienna hadn't drained from the sorcerer Sayers, combined it with the knife, the residual ritual magic, and mortared it with my own magic... and, honestly, my desperation."
"Blood magic," Desmond murmured.
"Undeniably," I said.
"Feeling at all psychopathic now?" Desmond's smile was a flash of white teeth in the dark of the car interior.
"Not in general," I answered, but I couldn't bring myself to be light about it. "You have to understand, I'm not actually sure what I made. Except it cut through the sorcerer's magic like butter... and... and..."
"Jade thinks she killed Kett with it," Kandy said.
"The life debt bond," Desmond said. "Did the vampire actually step between you and a killing blow?"
"The magic thinks he did," I whispered. Then I turned to stare out at the dark view and blink my tears away. Silence fell as we all thought about the ramifications of such a knife in Sienna's hands. Audrey was the only one of the four of us who hadn't seen my sister in action yet.
"A blood magic-sharpened sacrificial knife," Desmond said. He glanced up in his rearview mirror. "We'll just have to take it away from the black witch."
"Consider it done," Audrey said, a wolf growl edging her declaration. For someone so put together and prissy, she was also rather toothy. I wouldn't want to get between her and anything she truly wanted. Hell, I wouldn't want to be in a room alone with her... she really didn't like me. Or, rather, she really didn't like the idea of me with Desmond.
Which brought up a complex problem that I had no brainpower to think over at the moment — namely, that Desmond was alpha of a pack, and therefore no relationship with him would ever go anywhere. I wasn't pack. I wasn't a shapeshifter.
"It won't be easy to get near the black witch," Kandy said, bringing my thoughts back on point. "Even Jade had a difficult time in London, and you know magic doesn't affect the alchemist the same way it does the rest of us."
"Jade was rescuing the fledgling necromancer and defending her fallen companions," Desmond said evenly. Kandy had been one of those fallen. "Here, she'll have us all around her, the witches at our backs, and the necromancers to hopefully counter the summoning magic."
Yeah, all I had to do was get through a horde of demons, overcome Sienna's defenses, and kill my sister.
Easy as freaking pie.
And I'd always made terrible pie. I brushed off my inadequacy by claiming that there just wasn't enough chocolate in pie to hold my attention. But I was way beyond denial and disclaimers now.
We'd caught the seven o'clock ferry, which docked at 8:45 p.m. in Nanaimo, from which it was a three-hour drive to Tofino. The dashboard clock was glowing 11:07 p.m. when we hit the junction of Highway 4 and had to either turn north or south. Ucluelet was eight kilometers to the south and Tofino was thirty-three kilometers to the north. Yeah, I was good at reading big green highway signs, even when they were only illuminated by headlights. The concern was we didn't know exactly where the demon rising had taken place in 1778. So even if Sienna had a couple of days' lead time on us, I hoped she'd gotten hung up on this point too.
Desmond pulled over when we reached the junction. As we waited for everyone else to catch up, I climbed out of the SUV and took a few steps away to see if I could sense any of Sienna's magic ahead of us. Any glimmer to let me know which way we should turn.
I clutched my sheathed katana in my left hand, not bothering to strap it in place across my back, but ready to draw. I was careful to not step out of the wide beam of the SUV's headlights. Knowing me, I'd slip on the road base at the edge of the highway, twist my ankle, and tumble into the dark woods that spread out on either side of us.
Desmond stayed in the SUV. His stern face was frequently lit up as text messages came in on his phone. Audrey and Kandy slipped off into the forest in opposite directions. Twisted ankles weren't high on their list of concerns. I guessed they were scouting, but — by the taste of their magic — they didn't go far.
The first two vehicles to join us were the remainder of the shapeshifters. Other than Lara, I didn't recognize a single other person among them, and they didn't approach me for introductions.
The witches, necromancers, and skinwalkers arrived in tandem.
Car doors slammed and gravel crunched, but no voices cut through the darkness. My mother crossed out of the night, passing Desmond's SUV to join me in the wide beams of the headlights. By this light, her hair was a fiery red rather than its usual strawberry blond.
"Anything, my Jade?" she asked.
I shook my head. She nodded, her arms crossed against a chill I didn't feel, and turned to climb into the passenger seat of Desmond's SUV.
Danica appeared and offered me a sad smile as she climbed into the seat behind Scarlett. Then Rebecca, moving silently along the paved road, climbed in behind Desmond after the necromancer.
I inhaled and willed the peaceful evening to settle around me, just for a moment more.
Scarlett, clearly lit by the interior cab light, looked up at me expectantly. The blue of her witch magic rimmed her eyes. Desmond followed her gaze. None of the four Adept in the SUV spoke to each other. They were waiting on me.
My mother had convened a war council on the side of a highway in the deep of the night — and I somehow, someway was their key weapon.
I sighed. Then returned to the SUV.
"First, the witches will join Olive at her home in Ucluelet," Scarlett said as I crammed myself in the back seat behind her, forcing Danica to scoot to the middle. "We will cast a seek spell for Sienna with the hairbrush Jade retrieved."
I'd successfully used the residual magic in the hair from this brush to find Sienna over six months ago in Vancouver. She'd been in a protection circle next to Rusty's half-eaten body.
"Her magic is radically different now," I said. A seek spell, even one powered by seven witches, was 90 percent guaranteed to fail.
Scarlett nodded and then continued, "Rebecca will continue through to Tofino and approach the elder of the local band to see if he or the other elders might know of the location of the demon rising in 1778."
"The government and the residential schools erased much of our history when they tried to destroy the First Nations way of life," Rebecca said. "I don't know how much the Tla-o-qui-aht have retained of their history or their connection to the earth, but I will ask."
Yeah, no one in the SUV was going to bitch about the band's ability or inability to help us. Whether or not they could help didn't rank very high against the list of atrocities committed in the name of reformation, education, and religion — also known as a greedy-ass land grab by an invading force.
"The necromancers will try to determine if there is any unusual spectral activity in the area," Danica said. "Once we have a better understanding of the situation, we will be able to formulate a response." She didn't elaborate further and that was fine by me. I didn't know what was involved in necromancy, but I was satisfied with that blank spot in my education.
"Jade?" Scarlett prompted. I guess it was my time to share.
"I'll dowse," I answered. "For Sienna and Blackwell's book." And the sacrificial knife, I didn't add. The SUV was getting stuffy with magic and my head was already aching.
"The shapeshifters will back the alchemist," Desmond declared.
"I can't accurately dowse when surrounded by too many Adept."
"We will determine the space you need and move forward from there," Desmond said. I wasn't entirely sure we were talking about dowsing any more. "We will continue to keep in contact by text message."
"When magic starts being thrown around in large enough quantities, the cellphones won't be reliable," I said.
"By then we will be making a stand together, my Jade," Scarlett said. "Because none of us will attempt to confront Sienna alone."
My mother twisted around in her seat and held my gaze until I nodded my agreement. Then she exited the vehicle, quickly followed by Danica and Rebecca. None of us, it seemed, were comfortable in each other's company for very long.
Desmond turned around to stare at me.
"What?" I snapped.
"You will not attempt to go off alone, dowser."
"I already agreed."
"Did you?" he drawled. "Or did you just lie to your mother?" He tilted his head as if scenting the air, as if he'd smelled me lying. Freaking shapeshifters.
I glared at him.
He grinned back. It wasn't a nice smile.
I looked away. "Fine. Kandy can come with me. I know her magic well enough."
He snorted with satisfaction. Then he asked, "As well as you know mine?"
And, we were back to flirting... hell, maybe the dominance games were all part of the mating dance for him as well.
"Well, I haven't licked the inside of her mouth, if that's what you're asking."
Desmond chuckled. The doors opened and the SUV shifted as Audrey climbed in the front passenger seat and Kandy climbed in beside me.
"What's up?" Kandy asked.
"Desmond's getting off on the idea of you and me in bed together," I answered. My voice dripped with as much derision as I could muster.
"Who wouldn't?" Kandy said.
"What?" Audrey screeched.
Desmond laughed louder at that and Kandy joined him. Audrey glared at me in the rearview mirror. The green of her werewolf magic ghosted over her eyes.
Still laughing, Desmond put the SUV in gear, pulled onto the highway, and turned toward Tofino.
I wanted to laugh too, but I couldn't find the capacity to do so.
I was numb — though maybe 'mentally drained' was a more accurate description — as I stepped out of the SUV in the first parking lot we came to off the main road. Highway 4 cut through Pacific Rim National Park on the way to the town of Tofino.
This time, I slung the katana across my back and cinched it too tightly in place. At least this pinch of pain registered, if only fleetingly.
The park was a well-maintained collection of beaches and hiking trails and lookout points. Long Beach was the most likely location for a demon summoning, just due to its size. At least, I hoped we'd started looking in the right place, because farther north along the beach the homes and hotels started right at the edge of the park and extended all the way into Tofino. Even in November, Tofino was a popular tourist destination — a world-class beach resort. And, being a Remembrance Day long weekend, I imagined the hotels and B&Bs were very full.
The Wickaninnish Inn was one of those hotels, and one of my fav places to stay when I could afford it. They had these thick white cotton sheets, heated bathroom floors, and tubs overlooking the crashing surf. And the food was great. They even made the strawberry jam they served in the morning with their fresh croissants.
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those trips.
As planned, the skinwalkers left us when we pulled into the parking lot, heading farther into Tofino to the native reservation. The witches had turned into Ucluelet at the junction to meet at the home of a witch by the name of Olive. That way, they'd have an established witches' circle with which to cast the seek spell. They would be at half-coven strength tonight, and that was a lot of firepower for a simple spell. They'd know right away if it worked or not.
The necromancers had followed us into the parking lot, and began setting up some sort of spell of their own to communicate with any of the local ghosts who might be interested in chatting. Yeah, creepy, but it was a fantastic idea.
I was just fine with walking away from all that, heading through the woods and onto the gray sand beach.
Desmond and the other thirteen shapeshifters intended to follow Kandy and me by scent, staying back far enough to not overwhelm my dowser senses. Half of them were stripping out of their clothing as I was heading through the trees. Actually, I tripped over a log looking back to see if I could catch a glimpse of Desmond's ass. Unfortunately, he seemed to be keeping his clothes on.
"Eyes front," Kandy said. She was walking ahead of me on the path. "Last thing you need is a broken ankle."
Or heart, I thought. I hated when the wolf was right.
We stepped out onto soft sand, but it became hard packed a few feet away.
Long Beach stretched for miles in each direction. Other than a few randomly spaced outcrops, nothing impeded the twenty-foot waves from relentlessly pounding the beach. It had been raining on the drive here and continued to mist now even though the night was quite clear.
"Wow," Kandy said. The view, even by the light of the crescent moon, was breathtaking, but we weren't here for the atmosphere.
"The tide gets even lower than this," I said. "Can you tell if it's going out or coming in?" Kandy could see better than me in the dark.
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes glowed green as she scanned the vista. I took about ten steps to get to the hard-packed sand, which was still wet but easier to walk on. I waited there to see if the next wave reached me as it came thundering in... it didn't.
"Out," Kandy said.
"This reminds me, sickeningly, of Oregon," I said.
"Nah, that was caves. This is beach."
"Still, one of those rogue waves could grab us and pull us all the way to China."
"I doubt the current would take you even half that far."
"So not the point, werewolf."
Kandy laughed, soft and husky. "All right, time to play. Do your thing, dowser. Right or left?"
I inhaled, attempting to ignore the mass of magic in the parking lot, as I tasted the area around and beside me. It smelled of sea, sand, and wet seaweed with cedar in the mix — probably from the fallen trees that had been stripped of their bark by the ocean and tossed to shore to form a border between the beach and forest behind us. No magic.
Oh, there was natural magic all around us. The area was abundant with it. Not as much as I'd felt at the grid point at Loch More, but the earth here was old and wild. Compared to Vancouver or London, it was untouched by humans.
"No clue," I answered Kandy. "The witches are north. Let's go south. I think open beach is more likely, no?"
"Who the hell knows?" Kandy said, but she followed slightly behind me as I moved southward, parallel to the surf. "No lights," she murmured after a few steps.
"It's all parkland here," I said. "Long Beach Lodge overlooks this beach at the very end of the park. If we don't find Sienna before then... well, there'll be a hell of a lot more people to protect." I didn't even want to contemplate dozens of demons rising fifty feet from homes and hotels.
We walked.
We got wet.
My hair began to stick to my face. And still there was no hint of Sienna.
I was cold and hungry. Chilled actually. And I was so going to ruin my boots and leather pants in the rolling surf and sand. I didn't much care about the pants except that it was wasteful, but hunting Sienna was putting a nasty dent in my prized shoe collection.
"What if we're wrong?" I whispered into the moonlit darkness around me. The crashing surf whipped my words away, but Kandy still heard me.
"If we're wrong, we'll figure it out. Also, Mory has been following us for the last mile."
"I know," I said with a sigh. "I'm trying to figure out whether or not we should acknowledge her."
"She's fallen twice. And she's bleeding from the scrapes."
I stopped walking.
"I'll go get her," Kandy said.
"All right."
She turned back. The bitter chocolate taste of her magic receded quickly behind me.
And then I was alone on the beach.
"Now would be a good time, Sienna," I whispered into the crashing surf. The wind, which had picked up in the last few minutes, lashed my damp curls around my face. "Just you and me."
Nothing happened.
Kandy returned carrying a disgruntled fledgling necromancer over her shoulder. The green-haired werewolf dropped Mory to her feet in front of me. She looked like a defiant pixie with the moonlight washing across her face, glaring up at me through her shaggy, purple-edged bangs. Though the purple looked more gray in this light. Her hands were on her hips. It was like having an imp inexplicably mad at me.
Kandy's cellphone pinged before I could acknowledge Mory verbally. The werewolf glanced at her phone. "The witches are out."
Yeah, I saw that coming. "I'm surprised it took them so long. They must have tried multiple spells."
I opened my mouth to chastise Mory, but she beat me to it. "I've saved your ass just as many times as you've saved mine."
Kandy laughed.
"Yes," I replied, slightly surprised that I had to agree. "But if you didn't keep putting your — as you so delicately phrased it — ass in situations where it needed saving, my own ass wouldn't be in jeopardy so much."
I was rewarded for my wittiness with a chin jut from the angry imp.
Kandy's phone pinged again. "The skinwalkers are out. And, man, that old lady raven has a mouth on her."
I glanced at Kandy's phone. "That's a typo."
"Ah, yeah. That makes more sense."
I scanned the beach before us, then I turned to look out at the surf. We'd been walking for maybe forty-five minutes, but it felt like longer. Desmond and crew were catching up behind us.
"Rusty says..." Mory began, but then faltered when I turned to look at her. Rusty and I had an uneasy truce going on, but only because I had no idea how to actually get rid of him.
Mory straightened and fixed her gaze over my shoulder, which made me quickly step sideways.
"I don't like him sneaking up on me," I cried.
Mory laughed, and slammed her hand across her mouth to muffle the sound. "He's a ghost. All he does is sneak." Her words were garbled behind her hand and laughter.
"Still, creepy all around," Kandy said, commiserating with me.
"Rusty says what?" I asked, weary but not stupid enough to ignore a potential lead.
Mory nodded, but not to me, to the air to my right. I forced myself to not step farther away.
"Rusty says that he might be able to find her... Sienna. Though he calls her... by another name." Mory corrected herself awkwardly. She had no problem swearing like a drunken trucker, so I gathered this censorship was for the benefit of my feelings.
"What's stopping him?" Kandy snapped her teeth on the question mark. The werewolf hated standing around and talking.
Mory looked to me, her eyes suddenly pleading for understanding.
"He wants you to take the necklace off," I said. "To strengthen your connection."
Mory nodded and bit her lip. "I knew you wouldn't want me to, Jade, but..."
"If he's right..."
"Yeah. Plus if you're with me, you can put the necklace back on... if... you know."
I leaned down to lock eyes with the necromancer. "Yeah, I know. If your ghost brother tries to kill you again."
Mory puffed out her mouth, but then swallowed the protest and nodded.
I straightened and looked over at Kandy. The green-haired werewolf shrugged, seemingly uncaring, but I could tell by the tense way she held herself that she was wary and unhappy.
"Did your mother say no?"
"Yes."
Jesus. At least she was being honest with me. So when I said yes — because no matter what, Sienna had to be found and stopped — at least I knew ahead of time everyone would be pissed at me... again.
"Will he... remote project, or should you follow him?" I asked. My understanding of how necromancy worked was really basic.
Mory was already lifting the necklace from around her neck. "Both. He talked to the ghosts. The ones who wouldn't talk with mom, so he thinks she's close. But she's not on the beach."
"In the forest," I groaned. I really wasn't a fan of running for my life after midnight in the freaking forest.
"I like the forest," Kandy said with a wicked smile, as green rolled over her eyes.
"Yeah, you and the skinwalkers."
Kandy laughed and unzipped her hoodie.
Tofino was about to have a new pack of wolves. Delightful.
# 16
Mory — well, Rusty via Mory — led us through a thick stand of trees that separated the beach from the highway — not that the road looked like a highway here, but it was still officially Highway 4 through to Tofino. We darted across the road, not because there was any traffic to be seen but because something about the wide expanse of asphalt made me feel exposed.
A newly paved bike path ran along the east side of the highway. Mory, pausing and murmuring to Rusty — or so I assumed — wandered along this path until she came to a perpendicular trail marked with a provincial park sign. The sign outlined hours of operation, no campfires allowed in the park, and that sort of thing. It also showed a map depicting a web of hiking trails, which pretty much meant nothing to me. I'd have to rely on the wolves to get me out of the forest even if we stayed on the path. I had a terrible sense of direction, and no idea how to identify landmarks in the dark to lead me back.
But then, I had known this might be a one-way trip... even if I hadn't admitted it out loud yet. My sister had kicked my ass in London. I was alive because she wanted me to be.
While Mory paused at this crossroads, her head tilted slightly as she listened to something I couldn't hear or sense. I reached out beyond the multitude of werewolf signatures hidden all around us in the forest and tried to find a hint of Sienna to the east. I had just assumed I should look on the beach...
Mory swayed in front of me, calling my attention back. It was dark, but the fledgling necromancer looked paler than normal in the moonlight.
"Where's Rusty?" I asked. I didn't want to touch Mory while she was actively trying to use her necromancer powers, but I also wanted to make sure she was okay and not too drained. Her toasted marshmallow magic tasted as if it was still at normal strength, though. Not diluted.
"Through there," Mory said. She nodded toward the dirt path that cut through the woods to my right.
"There is no way Sienna would be in the woods," I said. "Not when there's a beach nearby. She's probably checked into the Wickaninnish and sleeping peacefully in gloriously thick white cotton —"
Mory held up a finger to silence me. Yeah, I loved being bossed around by a fifteen-year-old.
"Rusty says this way," the necromancer murmured after listening to the air for a bit.
Have I mentioned how freaky it is to me that I can't feel a drop of magic from ghosts? That just doesn't equate in my head, because they're magic, right? What else could they be other than some form of magic?
"Why?" I asked, touching Mory's shoulder lightly to stop her from blindly following Rusty into the woods. "Why would Sienna be in there?"
"I don't know, Jade," Mory answered. "He can feel her there... she calls to him."
"I'm sorry? 'She calls to him'? Yeah, that doesn't sound great."
"Because she killed him. Drained his magic. They'll always be connected."
Jesus, that was epically deep in a way I didn't have a lifetime to wrap my head around.
Mory stepped onto the forest path and I followed, feeling the still-unseen wolves shift around us. Kandy with her bitter chocolate magic stayed close, but the others kept their distance so as not to overwhelm my senses. But with them even as near as they were and Mory pumping out her toasted marshmallow magic in front of me, my dowser senses were pretty compromised already.
"Dowsing is not a terribly useful skill when surrounded by Adepts," I muttered. I hated feeling useless, and being led around by Sienna, pretty much clueless until I figured everything out way too late —
Wait.
"Wait," I said to Mory's retreating back. I could barely see the fledgling necromancer in the woods, though the moonlight was trying to filter through the swath the path cut through the trees. "Wait, wait," I repeated.
Mory turned back to me, then swayed again as if the movement made her woozy.
"He's taking too much," I said, meaning that Rusty in his eagerness to find and punish Sienna was draining too much of Mory's magic.
"It's fine," Mory sighed. "I think we're almost there."
"Just a second... I'm thinking."
"You don't have to blow a gasket about it."
"You don't even know what a gasket is."
"So?"
"So don't use phrases you don't understand."
"It's old speak. You — being old — get it."
"I'm not even in my mid-twenties," I snapped.
"Actually, you are."
"We've stopped." Desmond's curt voice came out of the dark forest to my right.
Mory flinched, and despite being pissed at her, I felt a little bad I hadn't warned her. I, of course, had felt Desmond approaching from miles away.
"Has the fledgling lost the connection?" Desmond asked. I could tell by his vocal quality that he hadn't transformed into McGrowly. I was fairly certain he also couldn't talk in full mountain lion form. Wrong type of vocal cords.
"No," Mory snapped. "Jade is thinking."
I waited for Desmond to make a snarky crack, or at least laugh. When he didn't, I shifted on my feet, worried I was delaying us for nothing.
The silence in the forest felt packed with more performance pressure than I'd ever felt before.
"It might be nothing," I said. "It's just we... I just barreled into... London. And I thought I had a plan, and..."
"Plans change," Desmond said, curt but not unkind. He stepped onto the path a few paces beyond Mory. His eyes glowed full green — probably trying to enhance his human vision with his cat's — but as I thought, he hadn't transformed.
I nodded to acknowledge him and looked at Mory. "This tie you mentioned, like how Rusty is tied to Sienna."
"Yeah, so what?"
"So," I said, trying to be patient and not simply rip Mory's head off and dig out the information I was seeking, skipping the dripping sarcasm and teenage ennui. "Remember when you saw Blackwell in the park in Portland?"
"Asshole sorcerer."
"Yeah, when you saw him that first time at the Jazz Festival, you said he was surrounded by shades." Actually, the necromancer had been so freaked out by whatever she'd seen hovering around Blackwell that I had to practically carry her out of the park.
Mory shrugged.
"Is Sienna surrounded by shades in the same way?"
"No," the necromancer answered, but then she thought about it a bit more.
"Before she learned to block Rusty from using your magic to hurt her?"
"Yeah, I get the question. Maybe. But she kept me drugged, you know, so that kept me from using my powers while she figured out the blocking thing."
"She sleep-spelled you through the necklace?"
"Nah, human drugs. In my food. I had to eat something."
Oh, freaking hell. That was information my already damaged soul wasn't going to absorb neatly.
"She had to back off on the drugs when she wanted to travel, but by then she'd figured out how to block Rusty. She had some of your trinkets. Maybe they helped."
"It must be something that comes naturally to necromancers. Blocking shades or ghosts. Something you probably do without even learning," I said, steadily putting things together. "She was slowly draining you and slowly learning the power."
"She's no necromancer," Mory spat. "She can't see ghosts, or talk to them."
"But she can do necromancer spells and summonings."
"Maybe."
"If she was surrounded by the shades of all the Adept she's killed, could your mom communicate with them?"
"They're not like Rusty. They'd just be residual energy. Shadows."
"Shadows all focused on the object of their death," I said, and I looked up to meet Desmond's gaze. "If Rusty can sense Sienna ahead, and they're connected because she killed him, then everyone she's killed might still be... around."
"I'll let the necromancers know," Desmond said. He stepped back into the dark of the forest.
"I don't get it," Mory said.
"I don't either. Maybe it's not important. Maybe your mom already knows. But what if Sienna can use the shades somehow? Like stored energy? Magic is energy. Maybe the necromancers can disrupt that connection if it exists. We need all the defenses we can build."
"Can we continue then?" Mory asked. Her snark was firmly back in place. It tended to drop when Desmond was around. She wasn't a big fan of the alpha, and seemed to try to stay under his radar. Once, I'd felt the exact same way... during a much safer and calmer period of my life.
"Lead on," I said.
Mory huffed out a breath and continued down the trail.
Almost thirty minutes and three twists in the trail later, Mory, via Rusty, had led us to what appeared to be a caretaker's or park ranger's hut. The hut, along with a public outhouse — currently closed — water tap, and message board, was dead center in a small clearing in the forest. Trails led to and from this clearing in four directions. A water-stained picnic table and benches stood on the opposite side of the hut, directly across from the outhouse.
I wished the moon was fuller, and therefore brighter. I could really only just see the outlines of the structures in the clearing.
"Rusty can't get inside," Mory said. Not taking her eyes off the hut, she shuddered as if cold. It looked like just a chill, but I worried her shiver meant more than that.
We were hunkered down in the trees at the edge of the clearing. I pulled Mory's necklace off — it was a tight squeeze around my head — and noted that it was glowing with a light blue tint of magic, as if being entwined with my necklace had charged it somehow. I dropped it back in place over Mory's head.
"Hey!" the fledgling necromancer exclaimed, though she immediately curled her fingers around the thick gold and silver chain.
"Next time, you learn to strengthen the connection with Rusty using the magic of the necklace."
"I'm not a witch," Mory sneered.
I shrugged. "Fine. Don't, then."
I stepped around Mory and stumbled through the woods with Kandy in wolf form at my side — off the path — until I'd walked the perimeter. I stopped when I was once again facing the front door of the hut.
"No magic," I whispered into the surrounding trees. "Not that I can taste or see. I should get closer to confirm."
"No," Desmond growled. He was standing at my back suddenly, though thirty seconds ago, he'd been much deeper in the forest.
"I'm not going to argue with you about it," I said as Scarlett, led by a wolf I didn't recognize, stepped up to meet me. I could taste other witches nearby now, and the skinwalker magic just at the edges of my senses. The troops were gathering... again.
"Key weapons don't waltz into apparently empty clearings after being led there by a ghost," Desmond said.
"He has a point," Mory whispered.
"Don't take sides," I hissed at the fledgling.
She shrugged and stroked her necklace thoughtfully. It was an unconscious gesture, but backlit by the magical glow, her fingers looked skeletal. I looked away.
"Danica understood your thoughts about the poor souls Sienna has killed," Scarlett said. "She and the other necromancers are trying to figure out if they can make use of it. Thankfully, their magic seems compatible with cellphones, so they're calling friends and family for guidance."
I nodded, but my attention was fixed once again on the hut. "Something's not right," I said.
"Rusty wouldn't mislead us," Mory insisted.
"That's not it."
"Audrey," Desmond called softly into the darkness. A gorgeous, dark gray wolf stepped up beside Mory. The necromancer flinched. The wolf dropped its jaw open in a toothy smile... or like it was about to take a bite out of the fledgling.
"I suppose you won't allow me to go?" Desmond asked hopefully.
The gray wolf lowered its head and a growl rumbled out through its now aggressively bared teeth. Mory squeaked and pretty much threw herself into my lap, knocking me off my haunches and onto my ass in dirt, dried leaves, and ferns.
I hadn't seen it coming, but I'm fairly certain I should have been able to take a hit like that and stay on my feet. I sighed. "Don't run. Only prey runs," I said to Mory, attempting to be stern and comfort her at the same time.
The fledgling necromancer disengaged from the hug I was now forcing on her and climbed in between where Scarlett was standing and me. "I am prey," she whispered.
"Only if you see yourself that way," Scarlett admonished.
"Yeah, claws and teeth beat ghosts any day." Mory's snark was seeping back.
I looked at Audrey, who'd backed off a step at the mention of ghosts. "Don't be so sure," I said to the fledgling.
"You'll need thumbs," Desmond said, either oblivious to or bored with the drama taking place at his knees.
Audrey took another step back and her green magic rolled around her so brightly I had to look away. Still on all fours, she transformed into her human form. Her completely naked human form.
Audrey straightened from her crouch, unabashedly displaying the most gorgeous female body I'd ever seen — long muscled legs, high breasts, and a slim waist that curved down into perfectly proportioned hips — as if I hadn't already hated her clothed.
She stepped by me — I was still sprawled on my ass like a street urchin in the dirt — and out into the clearing.
At the same time, a ring of green-glowing eyes moved a step forward to the edge of the trees, surrounding the hut and the outhouse. All the shapeshifters' attention was fixed on Audrey.
"What's on the picnic table?" I murmured, not expecting an answer. I'd noted the dark shadow there when I'd done my perimeter walk and brushed it off as a water stain... except it had been raining all day, so a water stain shouldn't show up like that on wood.
"Blood," Desmond answered. His remote tone suggested he was utterly focused on Audrey as she picked her way past the table and reached for the handle of the hut door.
Blood, blood. A pool of blood soaked into wood. Why was that ringing —
"Wait!" I cried.
Mory and Scarlett flinched beside me. Audrey froze with her hand an inch from the doorknob.
"Wait, wait," I muttered, fiercely trying to focus my thoughts. Everything was moving too fast... like London...
"Sayers," I whispered.
"The sorcerer?" Scarlett asked.
"Yes," I breathed as it clicked into place for me. "We're forgetting what Sienna does."
"I think that's rather difficult to forget," Scarlett said.
"No, I mean, she binds power —"
"Steals," Mory spat.
"Exactly. And the last Adept that I know of who she stole power from was Sayers."
"You said you couldn't feel any magic in the clearing," Desmond said, a pissed-off growl edging his statement. I got that he didn't like being thwarted. Actually, I got that he wanted to be in the clearing instead of his beta-elect, but protocol or whatever kept him standing in the woods behind me.
I straightened and pulled my jade knife. In the moonlight, the green stone of the blade glowed almost the same hue as the shapeshifters' eyes that still ringed the clearing across from me.
"I feel no magic in the clearing, and yet there's natural magic all around us. It's dim, touched and eroded by humans and Adepts alike. It's like the magic I find in the jade."
"Sayers' specialty," Scarlett murmured.
"I thought it was just a magical dampener he wore, but then the fog spell that covered the parking lot dampened and diffused magic within it."
"Sienna siphoned this sorcerer's power?" Desmond asked.
Audrey remained standing perfectly still in the clearing. Her dark hair cascaded down her bare back. Her skin glowed in the pale moonlight.
"She got some of it. Enough to trigger the demon summoning — a spell Sayers set up — but I bound the rest." I let this painful admission hover in the darkness between Mory, Scarlett, and Desmond.
"In the knife?" Desmond asked. "Which the black witch now has?"
"Yes."
"She's learning too fast," Scarlett said. "Impossibly fast for someone previously so unskilled."
"No," I said. "She's just trying everything. You understand? She would always try everything once. We just have no idea what she tries that doesn't work."
I stepped forward into the clearing. Desmond, Kandy, Mory, and Scarlett followed. The shapeshifters — not all of them wolves, I now saw — stepped forward to tighten the perimeter but stayed in formation. Desmond's form was a mountain lion, so I knew his pack would contain other species of shifters besides the wolves I'd met. I saw at least one coyote, what appeared to be some type of fox, and a smaller cat that was maybe a lynx out of the corner of my eye as I crossed to the hut.
Audrey turned and sneered at me as I approached. "I don't smell any magic."
"Go ahead, touch the door," I said, smiling at her sweetly.
"Jade," Scarlett admonished.
Audrey raised her chin and gazed over my head to look at Desmond, her expression now welcoming and receptive. She was like a porcelain statue in the moonlight, except for the dark nipples and trimmed triangle of dark pubic hair. She didn't seem to have the problem Kandy had with body hair growing back after she transformed. I guessed that was a refined shapeshifter ability, similar to their half-beast forms. I wanted to slap her silly... repeatedly.
Instead, I stopped beside her and looked at the door. I still couldn't feel any magic. "Still nothing."
Scarlett bent down, and with a flick of her fingers called up a dimmer version of her light spell. Even though the blue ball glowed with less wattage than usual, the shapeshifters and I flinched from it.
After a few rapid blinks, I could see the line of coarse salt along the underside edge of the door.
"Definitely spelled," Scarlett said. She straightened and opened her palm to send the blue ball of light over the picnic table. "No magic in the blood?"
"No," I answered.
"Animal?"
"No," Desmond answered. His nostrils flared, and then he scrunched his nose. "Human, a few hours old."
"The sacrifice for whatever spell she's working?" I asked, speaking more to myself than the others. I turned back to the door. "The dampening spell wouldn't need a sacrifice... No, she used it to mask whatever is inside."
I reached for the handle but Audrey knocked my hand away and grabbed the doorknob herself.
Nothing happened.
The werewolf strained. Then with a grunt and a flash of shifter magic, the handle popped off in her hand.
The door swung slightly open on loose hinges.
"Impressive," I said. Without breaking a sweat, Audrey had countered some sort of ward on the door that I hadn't even felt.
I touched the tip of my jade knife to the door and pushed it the rest of the way open.
Audrey stiffened and moaned ever so quietly. I couldn't see what she saw within the darkness.
Scarlett sent her light spell to hover over my shoulder. I reeled away from the carnage that lay in the one-room hut even before my brain had fully processed what my eyes had seen.
My mind refused to acknowledge the image imprinted there as I turned to block Mory's view, actually lifting the fledgling and carrying her — kicking and protesting — away.
I heard Desmond step forward and absorb the scene in the hut with a pained grunt.
"How many?" Scarlett asked, her voice thin and unsteady.
I suddenly very much wanted my Gran. I wanted the life she'd carefully directed me toward — keeping me away from magic, keeping me ignorant and safe, and not forever haunted by my sister's deeds. I wanted her to wrap her arms around me as I was now holding Mory, who quieted once she figured out what I was blocking her from.
"Jade," Scarlett called to me. "I... we need you to look at the magic."
I nodded and turned back to the hut. Kandy, in wolf form, brushed by me and stood in front of Mory, exchanging places to watch over the fledgling.
Scarlett and Desmond stood at the door and watched me approach. Audrey stood to one side with her arms crossed protectively and her head bowed. She wasn't so confident and cocky now, but I couldn't take pleasure in this change because the hut was full of dead bodies.
A pile of dead bodies. Their blood soaked into the pentagram inscribed on the wooden slat floor.
"Magic?" Scarlett prompted. She was trying to steel her tone and failing.
I scrubbed my foot along the coarse salt at the entrance. Scarlett gasped. Yeah, that was lazy of me, but I was pretty sure — seeing how the blood beyond was pouring over the edges of the pentagram — that whatever spell Sienna had worked was finished here.
The putrid smell of Sienna's dark magic, now released to linger in the air, turned my stomach.
"I think the salt was to anchor the damping spell," I finally said. "If we looked for it, I'd guess there's an outer ring as well, around the clearing."
"The spell inside?" Scarlett prompted.
I shook my head. "I don't know. Not only witch magic, I don't think. And she didn't kill all these people for a dampening spell. The pentagram isn't sealed. I assumed that meant the spell had been completed, but maybe we interrupted her?"
"I'll get a necromancer to look at it," Scarlett said.
"No!" I cried.
Scarlett laid her hand on my arm and tugged me away from the door. Desmond stepped over to talk to Audrey.
"I didn't mean Mory," Scarlett said. "I just meant your Gran and Danica should take a look. If it's not solely witch magic... or sorcerer, as far as I can tell."
"No," I answered. "It's Sienna's magic. It's chaos unleashed."
Scarlett was still stroking my arm. Usually her magic soothed me, but it didn't now. Perhaps I didn't want to be soothed.
"She can't come back from this... killing humans," I whispered. "This many people can't go missing from Tofino without an explanation..."
"You didn't think... Jade. My Jade..." Scarlett's voice caught. "You didn't think Sienna could be saved?"
I shook my head and stepped away from my mother. But yes, deep in my heart I had still hoped... utterly stupidly, utterly blindly hoped.
Audrey had crossed to the shapeshifters. They tightened their ring until they were gathered around her. If I was an artist, I would have been struck by the dangerous beauty of the scene. A naked woman surrounded by predators.
But I wasn't an artist.
I turned to Mory, whose eyes were dark saucers on her too-pale face. She had the fingers of both hands twined through her necklace, as I normally would have myself.
But I didn't. My necklace and knife weren't the kind of shield my raw soul needed now. Such a balm didn't exist.
Just as Sienna's magic shouldn't exist.
Just as I — born of witch and guardian dragon — shouldn't exist.
"No ghosts, Jade," Mory whispered as I crossed to her.
"Could they have passed over?" I asked hopefully.
"No," Mory moaned. "I mean, not the shades, not from such a violent death. We should ask my mom... but no."
I looked back at the hut. Scarlett was working magic — creating some sort of shield around herself in order to step inside. The blue of her magic illuminated the stains on the floor, running over the edges of the pentagram and soaking into the dry wooden slats...
Oh, God. Damn it, Rusty. The ghost of Mory's brother had led us to the biggest concentration of Sienna's magic that he could feel. Sienna herself could block him, but not while she was expending large amounts of magic. Such as the amount it would have taken to perform the sacrifice in the hut. I guessed dampening spells were only effective against the living, not shades or ghosts. Though the ward had kept Rusty out of the hut itself.
"Tell your mom about there not being any ghosts here," I said.
Mory nodded and chewed her lip.
"Now, Mory. Call her now!"
I looked down at Kandy, who was still in wolf form at Mory's side. She obviously wasn't subject to Audrey's orders, and hadn't gathered around the werewolf with the other shapeshifters. "And stay with Kandy."
"What?" Mory cried. "Why Jade?" The fledgling had her phone to her ear.
Desmond, Scarlett, and Audrey turned to look at us.
"She's already completed the sacrifice. Maybe only moments before we got here," I said to no one in particular. "With the knife, you understand? She's completed the sacrifice, and she has what she needs to activate it. Maybe in the knife or tied to the spear. It's a two-part spell."
Then I turned and ran into the forest, back toward the beach, knowing I was too late.
Again and again. Always too late to stop Sienna.
# 17
I ran, heedless of the undergrowth blocking my way or the branches scraping my face. I ran, not bothering with the path, not bothering with direction, knowing, knowing, that any second, any breath, I would taste Sienna's magic. It would rise up and overwhelm me. But I would fight.
It was never going to be any other way.
I lengthened my stride until my legs burned — not with pain, but with magic. The shapeshifters were behind me, moving as one unified force. The witches were mixed among them, and the necromancers were already ahead of me... perhaps still in the parking lot.
Magic flared along a long line to my left. For a moment, I saw it warp through the thick cedar trees. Someone behind me screamed — a witch, I thought, but I didn't stop. I corrected my course to follow this thick line of death magic — all blood and earth and dankness. It — as I had feared — was a delayed spell tied back to the park ranger's hut. Sienna had gained that ability in England somewhere, by killing a witch named Azure Dunkirk. It seemed important to remember such things now, instead of being constantly surprised by everything happening around me.
This was the path I was walking now. There was no denying it any longer.
Well, I was running, actually.
The forest broke open before me. The night wasn't as dark now, though nothing had actually changed. Nothing except me... fundamentally me...
I crossed the highway in two strides. A stand of trees, maybe fifty feet across, was all that stood between me and the seething mass of magic I could now feel on the beach.
Dense peppermint magic bloomed to my right and then barreled into me. I twisted off my feet and slammed into — actually, slammed through — a cedar tree. It cracked and snapped in half. I tumbled, throwing my hands out to slow myself. I dug troughs through the earth and ferns and cedar needles, ending up elbows deep before I stopped.
"I taught you to fall better than that," a cool voice whispered from right next to me.
I pushed up off the ground, spun in midair, and came up to my feet holding a blond, too-pale, blue-eyed vampire by the neck.
His magic was different. It didn't dance in his skin any longer. It still tasted of peppermint but it was richer and darker now, and the other spice that had always eluded me was more present. His eyes were rimmed in red, his fangs longer than before.
"You can't barrel into this fight alone, alchemist," he said. "You're always running for trouble rather than away." Then he laughed. Or, rather, he gurgled, as I was still holding him aloft by his neck.
"Kett," I whispered. "Not dead?" Yeah, I had my Captain Obvious hat on.
I set him down on his feet but didn't loosen my hold on his neck. What with the red eyes and fangs, I wasn't an utter idiot.
The shapeshifters fanned out behind and around us, hidden within the trees but near. I could also sense that the necromancers had moved to join the witches.
Kett tilted his head, thinking. "More dead, perhaps," he said. I couldn't tell by his tone if this secondary reincarnation was a bad thing or not. "You look... appalled, alchemist."
"I... I saw..."
"Yes."
"I felt..."
"Yes. I shall miss the life debt bond as well." He grinned. The expression was so utterly human on his completely inhuman face. "Did you really try to feed me your blood, Jade?"
I felt his breath brush across my cheek and ear... damn, he was faster than before.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders before he could step away again. I pressed a kiss to his lips. He was like holding cold marble. His lips were unyielding. He brushed his fingers through my hair, and something broken in me healed.
"With or without the bond, I'll always be able to find you, Jade Godfrey," he whispered against my lips, answering my unasked question.
"I'm glad you're alive," I said, still clutching his shoulders. I was slightly worried now that he was just an apparition.
He raised an eyebrow. His fangs were nowhere in sight suddenly.
"Okay," I said. " 'Alive' might be the wrong word. I'm glad you're here."
"You saved me from the true death a second time, warrior's daughter. My master prevailed on her maker to bequeath his blood, but only after she named my connection to you. As your friend..." — Kett laughed as if amused by the idea — "... I am valuable to the Adept. Not just vampires. Not just the Conclave."
"Because I'm an alchemist or because I'm half-dragon?"
"Both," Kett answered. "Shall we renew the life debt?" He nodded toward the beach.
He was joking. More than just his magic had undergone a transformation.
I threw my head back and laughed. It was completely inappropriate timing, but I needed to laugh... or to cry.
"You hightail it off into the forest without an explanation," Desmond said as he stepped through the trees. "And I follow, only to find you wrapped around a vampire."
This statement — as much as Desmond's utterly disgruntled tone — reinforced my laughing fit. Kett joined me.
"I thought you were barreling into a shitload of trouble —" Desmond said.
"She was," Kett interrupted. He turned toward the beach, loosening my hold on him. I figured that if Desmond could see him, then he was real. I let him go.
"The black witch has triggered a rather elaborate spell on the beach," Kett said.
"You don't have to sound so impressed, vampire," Desmond muttered.
Desmond and I followed him through the trees until we had a view of the shoreline, but were still sheltered by the forest.
I looked out at the scene Sienna had once again constructed. The rest of the shapeshifters, witches, necromancers, and skinwalkers gathered behind and beside us. No one spoke. We were beyond the planning stages, the gathering of information. It was time to react and hope that, combined, our individual skills prevailed.
Sienna was standing on a jut of rocks a few feet out into the surf. The tide was lower now. As far as I could see, she was simply standing on a rock, holding the native spear above her head and chanting. No pentagram, no book.
Magic churned in the ocean all around her. Blood — her own — streamed down from her slashed forearms. The sacrificial knife was stuck in a belt that rode low across her hips. She wore a simple calf-length black dress. Her legs, arms, and feet were bare. Every vein in her body stood out black against her pale skin.
Kett shifted to my left. Desmond stood on my right and slightly behind. The shapeshifters — most of them already in half-beast form — spread out around us.
Scarlett stepped up to my shoulder. I didn't look away as she murmured, "The necromancers say she has the souls somehow trapped above her. Dozens of them. Mory is having trouble keeping Rusty from answering her summons."
Shit.
"She's fueling the spell with the souls of all the people she murdered in the hut?"
"And everyone she's ever killed. You were right. The necromancers will try to disrupt this connection. The skinwalkers will guard them as they cast. The witches will provide shielding..."
"And we'll barrel through," I said.
"Yes, but —"
"It's okay. That's what I do best."
"The shapeshifters and the vampire will get you through. And you... you will..."
"Try to get past her shields."
"Yes. I love you, Jade."
I turned and met my mother's gaze. Our indigo eyes were the same color, but hers shone bright with witch magic.
"I love you, mom."
Scarlett nodded and turned away. Her movements were stiff, as if her limbs wanted to be doing anything but walking away.
I looked back through the shapeshifters and sought my Gran's gaze. She looked stern, reaching for Scarlett's hand and adding her daughter's power to the linked line of witches. A tall witch with light brown hair had a nasty cut on her cheek. I gathered she'd been the one who'd screamed in the forest when the delayed spell snapped into place, but she didn't falter now. None of us could falter now, not with what was happening on the beach.
Dark magic literally boiled the water around Sienna, turning the white surf black in the moonlight. I couldn't feel or taste the energy she drew from, but I could imagine what the necromancers saw. The trapped, tortured souls of Sienna's victims coiled around my sister's head.
"We have to go," I whispered.
"Not yet," Kett said. "We wait for the witches."
I unsheathed my sword, bringing the two-and-a-half-foot blade up over my shoulder and in front of me.
"We stay in formation," Kett called out. "The alpha here, me here, and Kandy just behind the alchemist. No one steps in front of the warrior's daughter. Protect her on both sides at all costs. We move across the beach as one."
I glanced back at Desmond, waiting for some growled retort about being ordered around by a vampire. He simply grinned at me, and — in a flash of explosive magic — transformed into his half-beast form.
"Hello, McGrowly," I said. "Fancy meeting you here."
McGrowly chuckled. It was a terribly unpleasant sound, which probably scared every small animal within hearing range to death.
Naked, Kandy wrapped her arm around my neck from behind. She must have transformed out of her wolf form somewhere in the forest, maybe in order to carry Mory. With a hug that would have choked a human, she pressed a kiss to my temple. I squeezed her arm with my free hand and she let go.
A rush of magic flashed behind me — all bitter chocolate and berries — and Kandy transformed into her half-beast form. McGrowly grunted, impressed. I guess he didn't know Kandy had been practicing.
I could feel the witch magic now, first seeping along the ground at our feet and then slowly rising up in front of me. They were creating a shield. Impressive, but I wasn't sure how long it would hold against the putrid, boiling magic I could taste from fifty feet away across the beach.
I stepped forward, out from the shelter of the trees. I twirled my katana — completely unnecessarily — to loosen my wrist. Then I straightened my arm and pointed the blade toward my sister.
"Sienna!" I screamed. My voice knifed across the sand.
Sienna opened her black eyes, like two yawning chasms carved into her face. Then she smiled.
A fifteen-foot black-crested wave crashed onto the beach. It receded, but left a horned demon in its wake. Standing six feet at the shoulder, it lifted its snubbed snout in the air, opened its blood-red eyes, and bared its fanged teeth in our direction.
Another wave crashed in, depositing a second demon beside the first.
"Mutt," McGrowly spat behind me. The demons did look reminiscent of mastiffs. You know, if mastiffs were covered in gray scales and weighed about... I don't know... five hundred pounds each.
"No one likes a mutt." The words were mangled by McGrowly's fangs, but the shapeshifters all around us understood him perfectly. They growled in unified agreement.
Another wave brought another demon mutt, then another and another. They shook and stretched their boney backs.
"Come and get me," Sienna cried. She was so freaking typical, like all the freaking time.
I curled my other hand under and around the bottom of my sword hilt, rotating my body into an offensive stance.
The witch magic snapped fully into place in front of me.
I took a deep breath, settling into my stance as I exhaled. I tasted the moment. It tasted of death.
"Now," Kett whispered.
My muscles contracted, propelling my body forward. The soft sand shifted underneath my feet, but it didn't shake me. I flew toward my destiny, lifting my sword up over my head as I pivoted into a spinning leap to take the head off the first demon that jumped at me, snarling.
Its blood splattered my arms and throat even as it dissolved into ash... no, sand. I could feel the grit against my skin and taste it on my lips. I was aware that I was screaming — the pain of it tearing at my throat — as I flipped my katana up over my opposite shoulder, lunged, and took off the head of the next demon that leaped at me.
I was still running, carving my way toward Sienna. The demons were nothing but an obstacle to cut through. Sienna was the goal. My sword would be at her neck next.
The demon horde stopped us halfway across the beach. I was only aware of the demons in front of me, and Desmond and Kett beside me. If I looked at them too closely, those monsters at my side were even more terrifying than the demons. McGrowly would reach out, snatch a demon, and rip its head off. This wasn't a clean, simple process. He was coated in demon blood that burned its way through his clothing and seared his skin. If he noticed, it didn't slow him down.
Kett flitted in and out of my peripheral vision as a seemingly demonic version of himself — though not quite the mess of chaos that had freed itself from Blackwell's spell in Scotland. This incarnation was graceful and bestowed with deadly claws. Instead of ripping off heads, he sliced them off. Yes, with his bare hands.
The space between Sienna and me was filling with more and more demons impeding my ability to swing my sword and cleanly deliver killing blows. I could see a dozen in front of me alone, with more and more rolling out of the surf behind. How many people had Sienna killed? Was each demon a reanimation of those souls? I pushed this traumatizing thought out of my mind and pressed forward, hoping I was freeing their spirits as I vanquished each demon before me.
The shapeshifters were getting hit hard around us. The witches' spell offered some protection, but it wasn't entirely demon proof. Sienna wasn't able to cast any extra magic through it, though. I'd felt at least three fireblood spells hit the shield and fizzle. So that was a good thing.
I could still feel Kandy, Audrey, and Lara near me, but the witches' shield spell wasn't wide enough to block the demons to our left and right.
I tried to ignore the screaming. I tried to ignore the faltering witch magic. I just swung my sword as I inched forward.
"Jade!" Kett yelled.
I had missed the second demon climbing over the shoulder of the one I was currently facing. This demon sprang at me, too close for me to get my sword up and between us. I tumbled backward, knocking Kandy and Audrey aside where both were wrestling their own demons — literally.
The first demon gleefully leaped over the second. For a brief moment — with me pinned underneath them — they tussled over who was going to rip my throat out first. Unable to free my sword, I managed to pull my jade knife out and jammed it into the eye socket of the first demon, just as the second took a swipe and caught my neck with its claws.
I nearly blacked out from the pain. My blood spurted all over the second demon. But instead of lapping it up, it shrieked and reeled back. This shifting of its weight pressed the first demon farther down onto my jade knife. The creature dissolved into sand that flowed around me, mixing with the blood still pumping from whatever artery had been severed in my throat.
I tried to roll to my feet but didn't make it up. The second demon was still scrambling back from me as others closed in to take its place, ready to finish me off.
Kett stepped in front of me and took the head off the second demon. Then he turned and smiled at me. "I guess that answers that question." I had no freaking idea what he was talking about. His smile faded as my vision blurred. "Jade?"
Everything went momentarily black. Note to self: Getting my throat gouged out was not a good idea.
I came to and found Kett and Desmond standing over me. I sat up and shakily retrieved my sword. It was covered in blood and sand. That seemed so disrespectful.
I felt magic building up behind me...
The necromancers...
"Duck," I tried to scream, but it came out as a gurgled whisper. I'd stopped bleeding but my throat was still healing.
The necromancers unleashed their spell. It flew across the sand. It flew toward us. It flew toward Kett. Necromancy and vampires didn't mix.
"Duck," I screamed for real as I surged to my feet.
Kett flattened himself to the sand in front of me. The necromancers' spell blew through and around me. And just for a flash, I could taste sugared violets.
"Rusty..." I whispered.
The spell hit the churning well of energy that had built up above Sienna — the power source I couldn't feel or taste. My sister shrieked and collapsed to her knees.
The demon before me shook its head as if shaking off an invisible leash. Sienna had momentarily lost her hold on the horde.
Another flash of magic flew in from behind — the witches. This spell also blew by me, tasting of fresh-cut grass, lilac, and strawberries. It ignited inches in front of me, burning through every demon in my path.
Before me, the witches' shield collapsed, but I was already moving. I sheathed my sword and gripped my jade knife. The sand of the disintegrated demons hung suspended all around me... or maybe I was just moving so fast it hadn't fallen to the ground yet.
I felt my mother fall, her magic so dim I could barely sense it. This was the same spell she'd used against the demon in the Sea Lion Caves. Then, it had been more powerful than I had ever thought her capable of. Now, backed by a half-coven of witches, it was astonishing. And so filled with magic it could be deadly for the caster. I willed myself forward despite the terrified feeling that I might be losing her.
The skinwalkers, who'd been waiting behind the witches, leaped into battle.
The demons broke through the shapeshifter defensive line.
More screams, more dying.
I kept moving forward.
I hit the surf. I leaped over the next wave — and there was no demon within this one. The necromancers had stopped the generation of new demons by freeing the souls, or energy, that had been fueling Sienna's summoning, but not the already risen horde. At least a dozen demons remained on the beach behind me.
I had left everyone else behind me. I leaped up on the rock. Sienna was still on her knees. She looked up and smiled as I thrust my knife forward into the ward that shielded her from magic.
From magic, but not me.
Except the jade knife met no resistance. Off-balanced by this, I fell forward, stumbling to kneel before Sienna.
She'd opened the protection circle, just for that single breath. It snapped closed behind me.
And I faltered.
Sienna's magic was too powerful. It was fully unleashed within the circle. It owned the circle. It rejected me, momentarily scrambling my senses.
Then I became aware of a dark burning deep within my gut — and of the seething, terrible magic searing into me.
I looked down. Sienna had stabbed me in the stomach with the sacrificial knife as I fell. A knife that I had created to cut through magic, a knife capable of killing a vampire.
"That's the third freaking time," I muttered. I could taste blood in my mouth.
Sienna laughed. "Ah, Jade." She reached out to stroke my hair. Her hand came away bloody, and she looked for a moment like she was contemplating licking it.
"I wouldn't do that," I murmured. I could feel my magic fighting the power of the knife — and claiming it... because it was already my own creation. "The demon didn't like it much."
Sienna giggled. "No matter. There are always other ways."
Then she kissed me. Hand cupping my head, knife twisting into my gut, she kissed me.
I screamed. And screamed.
She was pulling my magic out — somehow dragging it from me through my lips.
I was dimly aware of more screaming outside the circle, followed by a crack of magic as Kett or Desmond tried to break through Sienna's wards.
But Sienna — who had killed and bound the magic of so many Adepts — was too powerful.
I slumped sideways and she guided me back onto the rocks, still kissing me, still siphoning my magic.
Now she'd be unstoppable. The horde would kill most of the Adepts arrayed against her, and then she'd step out of the circle and kill the rest. With my magic.
My friends, my family... all dead, just like I'd seen in Chi Wen's vision.
Except... this wasn't the cave. And that wasn't my destiny.
My mouth, clamped shut against Sienna's assault, was filled with blood.
I spat this mouthful into Sienna's face.
She screamed and reared backward. As it had been with the demon before her, the magic in my blood was incompatible with Sienna's black magic — or maybe it was that my dragon magic was the antithesis of demon or dark magic — I didn't know. But it distracted Sienna for just a moment.
Still barely able to move, I wrapped my hand around the sacrificial knife that was poisoning me with its blood magic and yanked it from my belly. The toxic magic was already in my system, slowing me as I rolled to my side to avoid a spell Sienna half-heartedly tossed at me. This spell — an ice-based variation of her fireblood spell — hit my shoulder and actually helped steady me rather than freezing me in place.
"What have you done?" Sienna shrieked, desperately wiping my blood from her face. But the damage was already spreading. Her veins — filled with black magic — had burst open. These oozing wounds stank of the dark putrescence of that magic.
I wrapped my hand around the hilt of my sword over my shoulder. Sienna hadn't tried to disarm me — she learned from her mistakes, knowing not to touch anything I might have claimed, such as my jade knife, which had burned her so badly in the past.
I unsheathed my katana with Chi Wen's vision focused in my mind. I remembered Sienna sprawled dead on the altar in the cave, but with her deadly, intoxicating magic still alive.
"It can't be destroyed," I whispered.
I swung the sword around, its tip striking sparks of magic wherever it grazed the inner edge of Sienna's protection circle.
Sienna screamed and flung up her hands as I brought the sword to her neck.
But I didn't cut off her head.
No, I reached around her, over her shoulder, and grasped the blade exactly as I shouldn't. The sword sliced into my hand, my blood coating its razor-sharp edge.
Sienna wrapped her hands around my neck and tried to strangle me. Black dots immediately appeared before my eyes — my throat was still wounded from the demon's claws.
With the last of my strength, I bent the unbendable blade around Sienna's neck — smoothing the metal with my magic when it wanted to crack and break — until it encircled her shoulders.
I couldn't breathe. Sienna's nails dug into my skin. Her blacked-out eyes were fierce. She was screaming with rage.
Then, remembering the blade's purpose and how the magic of Blackwell's circlet worked, I sucked all the magic out of Sienna and into the sword.
Well, it wasn't quite that easy.
At first, her screams turned from rage to pain. She let go of my neck and brought her hands up to the blade in an attempt to push it off over her head. She severely sliced her hands doing so, which only served to intensify the magic I was trying to work. My blood and her blood mingled. I smoothed this combined magic out over the entire sword, then pulled and pulled and pulled all of Sienna's magic after it.
I fell to my knees, unable to support myself and work such a terrible alchemy.
And it was terrible. It was a terrible, terrible thing to do to another person. A fate worse than death for any Adept.
The veins on Sienna's face split wider as the magic drained out of her.
She stopped screaming.
Her eyes cleared and returned to their normal cappuccino brown. "What have you done?" she whispered through cracked, black-bleeding lips.
I kept pulling, even as I felt my own magic faltering... I guess even I had limits.
The black magic drained from Sienna's veins. Her face began to heal.
"Stop, Jade... Jade..." she begged.
I didn't stop. I knew I couldn't stop. I went beyond the blood magic, beyond the black magic. I took her witch magic — the familiar taste of it made me weep. I took the binding powers, because if I didn't, the cycle would just start again.
"Stop... Stop..." Sienna was crying now, sobbing.
I didn't stop until I fell. The magic of the protective circle crashed down around us, and I dropped to the rock with Sienna across me.
I'd given it my all.
On the beach, and through the forest beyond, the demons were winning.
I couldn't do anything about it.
Portal magic washed over me as a doorway opened on the rock behind me. This was the treasure keeper's magic. Pulou was the only one of the guardian dragons who could open doorways that weren't permanent.
I felt, rather than saw, Yazi step through this doorway and lean down over me. My father brushed his fingers lightly on my cheek, and said, "She's alive." I'd never heard him sound so serious. Normally, his magic was an intense experience for me, especially when he touched me. Now I could barely taste it blended among the magic of the portal and Pulou.
"Of course she is," Pulou said. He was somewhere above and behind me, but I still couldn't open my eyes.
"Will the healer come?" Yazi asked.
"To kiss your daughter again? I imagine so."
Yazi straightened. I imagined he was surveying the massacre on the beach. "Will you ask him to attend us, treasure keeper?"
Pulou huffed out a sigh. "I'm to be your errand boy today, I see."
Yazi laughed, but the sound carried none of his usual exuberance. "Who else am I to ask? Drake is still sequestered. I figure it will be fifty years before the fire breather loosens her reins again."
"The fledgling is far too clever for that," Pulou said. He was chuckling.
I held on to the residual touch of dragon magic — my father's magic — that he'd left on my skin. This wasn't healing magic, of course, but if I could just get my own magic to mirror his, maybe I could remind my body how to heal itself.
I opened my eyes.
My father was standing over me, fully armored in some sort of hard-shell samurai gear. His face was utterly serious as he gazed toward the beach. The breeze tousled his sun-kissed curls around his ears. Supposedly, I was a feminine replica of him, but I doubt I could ever look so fierce... or golden godlike.
The door shut behind us as Pulou stepped back into the dragon nexus, or so I assumed.
"Hey, dad," I whispered.
Yazi glanced down at me sprawled across the rock at his feet. He smiled. His face looked more natural this way.
"Is this the black witch?" he asked.
Sienna laid utterly limp across my torso. "Yeah," I said. "Well, not anymore."
"Yes, I see. Good. Shall we have some fun then?"
Um, I could open my eyes and move my mouth to talk, but I wasn't actually moving any substantial part of my body. "Sure," I answered, a bit faintly. I hated to say no to anyone, and I really couldn't say no to my newly discovered father.
Yazi drew his sword out of thin air. The golden magic of it hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. This I could thankfully still feel, even though everything else was deadened around me. The magic was a spicy chocolate that was fresh and potent. It was an intense incarnation of the warrior's power, unique to my father.
The warrior turned to face the beach. Slowly, painfully, I rotated my head to see what he was seeing.
The shapeshifters — at least the ones still standing — and a couple of skinwalkers were still fighting. I could see Kett and taste witch magic, so not all the witches were dead yet.
Yazi bellowed. The noise actually flattened the waves as they crashed before him. It stirred the sand and ruffled the trees beyond.
Everyone on the beach stopped fighting, including the demons.
Yazi bellowed a second time, sounding a little pissed now.
The rock vibrated painfully under my head, so I lurched up just in time to see and hear every demon on the beach and in the forest shriek an answer to Yazi's challenge. Then the demons charged... right toward me. And I couldn't fully lift my arms yet.
Yazi laughed and took one step off the rock into the rolling ocean. He brought his gold broadsword around — no fancy moves or anything — and cleanly lopped off the heads of the first three demons.
"Holy shit," I muttered.
Yazi took another step. He was knee deep in the ocean now — the waves didn't even budge him — and lopped off three more demon heads.
The portal magic bloomed behind me as the remaining dozen demons realized they'd made a mistake accepting Yazi's challenge and turned to flee.
Kett and the remaining shapeshifters threw themselves after the demons, chasing the creatures across the beach as they scattered into the forest. Yazi entered the fray. The witches — not including Gran or Scarlett as far as I could see — immediately ran to the fallen on the beach.
Pulou stepped out from the open portal and looked down at me. A bear of a man, his girth was only emphasized by the full-length fur coat I never saw him without. He spoke with a British accent, though his territory was Antarctica. Yeah, that was odd, but I guessed one of the guardians needed to oversee it.
I met Pulou's gaze. Then his eyes flicked to Sienna, who lay across my lap now. Specifically, he was looking at the sword still twisted around her neck. Then he looked back at me.
The ruined katana glowed, tasting of all the magic Sienna had stolen, as well as her own. It was impossible to distinguish any one taste over another.
"I've made something," I said.
"I see." Pulou didn't sound judgmental, but I knew an object of great and terrible power when I created it.
"Will you keep it for me?" I asked.
"That would be wise."
I gently pulled the twisted sword off Sienna's neck and held it up to Pulou. He took it carefully, holding it just by the tips of his fingers as he slowly rotated it. Different colors of magic swirled in the folded steel.
In Pulou's hands, the sword morphed, shrinking to the size of a bracelet. Then the treasure keeper opened his fur coat. More magic than I'd ever felt before hit me, scrambling my brain and blurring my vision. Pulou placed the shrunken sword in a pocket within his coat, then buttoned it up again. Something crazily metaphysical and dimensional had just happened, and I had no context in which to understand it.
Qiuniu, the guardian healer, stepped out from the golden doorway that stood open just behind Pulou. If any of the witches — and maybe even some of the shapeshifters — had been near enough, they would have instantly swooned at the sight of the Brazilian guardian dragon. He was that beautiful... if you liked that sort of thing.
He smiled down and nodded where I was sprawled at his feet. "Warrior's daughter."
"Guardian," I responded.
His eyes flicked to Sienna, barely registering her. Then, frowning, he looked past us toward the beach.
"I cannot revive the dead," he said.
"That's certainly up for debate," Pulou said. "I remember your predecessor —"
Qiuniu glanced in Pulou's direction and the treasure keeper put up a hand in surrender. "The warrior certainly wouldn't expect or desire such a thing from you, healer."
Qiuniu nodded, then smiled at me again. "I shall be back for you, Jade Godfrey. You will live. Others... their magic is very faint."
He stepped into the ocean before us and headed to the beach and the multitude of bodies lying scattered there.
I moaned and looked away. I looked down at Sienna, who still lay across my lap. I couldn't taste even a hint of magic from her. I actually wasn't sure she was even alive until I saw her chest rise with breath. Unconscious like this, and with her skin clear, she looked sixteen again.
The sacrificial knife lay across her chest.
"The knife," I said to Pulou.
He just shrugged and said, "A trifle. Not for you to wield perhaps, but not meant to be locked away."
I opened my mouth to protest — and then realizing who I was about to argue with, I snapped it shut.
Yazi laughed from somewhere deep in the forest. He was chasing down the remaining demons that had broken through our defenses, then continued on into the human world without Sienna to direct them.
"We've won," I murmured.
"Have you, alchemist?" Pulou said. "Not everyone is rising at the healer's touch."
I turned to look back at the beach. I could see Kandy, in human form, standing by Qiuniu as he leaned over a gray wolf on the beach. The green-haired werewolf was scratched and bruised, her hair was back to its natural dull brown... but that wasn't the point. She was on her feet.
I couldn't see Desmond or Kett among the fallen.
Reaching out with my dowser senses, I could taste witch magic but not specific witches. "I can't find Gran or my mom," I said, voicing the fear I could feel wedged like a rubber ball in my throat. I was surprised I could speak through it.
Pulou nodded. "Your magic is faint. Depleted."
I looked down at Sienna and thought about that for a moment. Everything had been so much easier... so much nicer, before I'd known I was an alchemist. Before I'd known I was half-dragon and not just half-witch.
"Will it come back?" I finally asked.
"Of course, warrior's daughter. Most likely stronger than before. Living through great trauma usually has that effect... on all of us."
"But not on Sienna," I murmured.
"No. You've taken every last drop. I have never seen or heard the like. Perhaps this is best kept between us."
"The Adept wouldn't understand."
"Oh, they would understand. And they would fear you."
I looked up at the treasure keeper. He smiled and patted my head like I was a toddler... and to him, I was.
"A conversation best left to tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow?" I echoed.
"Yes. When you come to treasure hunt for me." This was a statement, not a request.
I nodded. His smile deepened.
"I must go. Haoxin is calling," he said. "Tell your father and the healer I will be back when they need me."
I nodded again. I guess I'd run out of words. I was really, really tired.
Pulou stepped back through the portal and it snapped closed behind him, taking the comforting warmth of the dragon magic with it.
Qiuniu, still a dozen feet away on the beach, acknowledged the portal closing with a glance and then returned to healing. More shapeshifters were being helped to their feet. I tried to be glad of that, and to not dwell on Qiuniu shaking his head to Rebecca, the skinwalker elder, as he crouched over the body of Gord. He had reverted from his grizzly bear form in death.
The skinwalkers should never have been on the beach, but they stepped up without question when the witch magic fell. And the witch magic had fallen because of the spell the witches used to get me to Sienna.
My sister was looking at me.
Her eyes were once again the color of cappuccino robbed of its foam.
"Hey," I said.
"Jade?" Sienna asked. Her brow furrowed. "You're covered in... in... are you okay?"
Utter hope spread through my chest, warming me from within. The painful spot that had been lodged there — always hurting, never easing since that terrible night in the bakery basement and all its terrible truths — melted.
Maybe it was going to be okay —
Sienna's frown deepened. She lifted her hand and flexed her fingers. "Jade." Her tone sharpened. "What have you done?"
I opened my mouth to soothe her... to plead with her... to make her see —
"Jade!" Sienna shrieked and rolled off my lap to rise shakily to her feet. The sacrificial knife fell to the rock between us. I placed my foot over it as I stood as well.
Sienna watched me do so and then lifted her hateful gaze to mine.
"It's not going to be okay," I said — to myself, not my sister.
"No, it's not!" she shrieked. Then she attacked me.
She raked her nails across my face — I barely felt it.
She pummeled me in the stomach and kicked me in the legs — I didn't move. I didn't even raise my arms to stop her.
I felt magic spark from the beach and looked over to see Mory and her mom, Danica, stumbling toward us, supporting each other. Mory's toasted marshmallow magic took flight and zoomed toward us.
I willed my knife into my hand and easily batted the spell out of the air before it hit Sienna. I recognized the magic without having felt it before, without ever knowing it might be real. It tasted like a death curse — or at least an attempt at a death curse.
I shoved Sienna, still kicking and screaming, behind me. "Mory! No!"
The second spell — a much, much stronger curse — came from Danica. When I slashed this out of the air before me, it shattered all the bones of my right hand.
Danica fell to her knees in the sand. A wave crashed against her. Mory screamed, then began to drag her mother away from the water's edge.
Desmond was suddenly beside me. He'd taken human form. I started to smile at his grimness. I started to reach out to him with my undamaged hand, to tell him —
He reached by me, yanked Sienna forward between us by the hair, and snapped her neck.
My sister hung suspended upright for a moment while her brain informed her body that she was dead. Then she fell to the rock at my feet.
The life debt bond between Desmond and I dissolved into a painful puddle of mush at the bottom of my heart.
I stared at Desmond in disbelief. He gazed back at me impassively.
"I... I..." I murmured, not sure what I wanted to say, not sure I was even reacting at all.
"You weren't going to do it, Jade." He pitched his voice low. His use of my given name was meant to be intimate.
"She was my sister."
"She killed my pack mates. I'm alpha. It was never going to be any other way."
Gran, flanked by Scarlett and Kett, pushed through the crowd of half-healed shapeshifters who'd gathered around the rock on which Desmond and I stood... on which Sienna lay dead.
"This is witch business," Gran snapped.
The shapeshifters parted. Gran waded through the water and climbed up onto the rock with Scarlett and two other witches I didn't know.
Gran reached for me, but then didn't actually touch me. Her white-gray hair was wild, flying around half out of her braid. Her eyes were rimmed with magic that I could still barely taste.
"Gran..." I felt the tears start to stream down my cheeks.
Gran nodded. "Let's go home."
I nodded.
Then she looked down at Sienna lying dead at my feet and sighed.
Scarlett reached around Gran and brushed her fingers down my arm.
"Mom..." I said. I just wanted her to make everything right again. It was an impossible wish.
Gran leaned down to Sienna, snapping a curt "No!" to Desmond when he also bent. "She is my responsibility. Witch responsibility."
The four witches gathered around Sienna. I stepped back as they lifted my sister between them and carefully carried her off the rock and through the surf.
"Jade," Desmond murmured, still beside me.
I shook my head and wiped the tears from my cheeks.
Then I very deliberately locked eyes with him and placed my fingertips to his chest. He looked momentarily pleased, until I started to push. I pressed with just the tips of my fingers. I didn't flatten my hand or lean in with my shoulder. When he didn't immediately yield, my feet slipped back on the wet rock. I anchored my stance to continue pushing. I kept my eyes locked to his and then — as surprise flashed over his face — he moved. Just a step back, but involuntarily, as he'd been resisting my push.
I turned my head toward the beach and dropped my hand. He was no longer in my peripheral vision.
Message sent and received.
I am stronger than you.
I stepped off the rock and into the crashing waves to follow my sister's body as it was carried across the beach.
Yazi appeared at the edge of the forest, not a scratch on him though his armor was pockmarked by demon blood and covered in sand. I saw the moment my father laid eyes on my mother for the first time in twenty-four years. I saw the sorrowful smile they exchanged among the chaos and carnage of the dark early morning.
I took another step and fell, feeling Kett's magic as he caught me before the waves swept me away. For the briefest of moments, I wished he'd let me go.
Then I didn't see anything for a long, long while.
# 18
When I woke up, I was in my bed, in my apartment, staring up at the ceiling. The room was dim, but only because the curtains were drawn.
I felt as if I'd just stepped from the beach into lying on my bed, except I was healed again... in body and magic, if not mind. Though I thought I'd already proven to myself on multiple occasions in the last six months that I was capable of healing my mind as well, I was just slow in that general area.
I reached out with my dowser senses to test the wards around my apartment, then instantly reined them back in when that tiny taste was rather intense.
I turned my head to observe the sacrificial knife sitting on my bedside table. It was resting on Blackwell's demon history book — the original, by the taste of it — and it exuded pissiness. Which was worrisome, as inanimate objects really shouldn't have moods. Someone had put me to bed and brought the knife and chronicle home as well. I wondered what else had been cleaned up while I was unconscious... I guessed that depended on how much time had passed.
I rolled out of bed — literally, since I wasn't completely sure I was ready to be on my feet. But I stood steadily enough to pull on jeans and my red 'Smart Ass University' T-shirt over my tank top and underwear.
I noted in the mirror that I didn't have a scratch or bruise on me. Even my hair looked amazing — gleaming and perfectly curled. I narrowed my eyes at this suspiciously. I suspected magic. Witch magic, probably from the witch currently puttering around in my kitchen.
The jeans were loose — damn dragon training, they were my favorite pair — so I cinched on a belt as I wandered down the short hall to the main room of the apartment.
By the light filtering through the windows, it was midmorning. The North Shore mountains were snowcapped and stark against a light blue, cloud-free sky. A nonrainy day in Vancouver in November? Odd. Maybe I'd lost more time than I thought.
Gran was making waffles in the kitchen. I didn't own the waffle maker she was using, so it must have been another addition courtesy of Scarlett.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." Gran gifted me with the blinding smile that she had only ever bequeathed for an A-plus on my report cards. I wouldn't have seen many of those smiles while growing up if I hadn't been good in home economics.
"How did you know I was awake?" I asked as I pressed a kiss to her temple, then poured myself a glass of orange juice. It looked freshly squeezed.
"How I always know," she replied.
"You spell me?"
"Of course," she answered without shame. "Sit. I'll serve."
Gran loaded two waffles onto a plate — I could smell the cinnamon in the batter and was already trying to not salivate.
I took a swig of orange juice and crossed around the kitchen island to hop up on a stool. The juice was freaking amazing. The taste practically exploded in my mouth. "What are these, magical oranges?"
"Olive grows them in her greenhouse," Gran answered absentmindedly.
I'd been joking. "Olive?" I echoed. "A witch with a plant affinity?"
"You met her," Gran said. "She held the protection circle over Scarlett when she fell." Gran looked up at me, utter pride in her voice. "I would never have thought Scarlett capable of such a spell, even backed by six other witches. She was magnificent."
Gran was referring to the spell that had cleared the path for me through the demons once the necromancers had countered Sienna's summoning spell.
The orange juice turned sour in my mouth. I set the glass down and fiddled with my fork. Gran had set two plates.
"How many..." I started to ask, but then stopped myself. I wasn't sure today was the day for such questions. Instead, I watched Gran spoon strawberries and whipped cream on the waffles, eagerly taking the plate when she offered it. I was starving.
Gran settled in beside me and we ate. Then I helped myself to seconds. She hadn't finished her first plate yet.
"Where is Scarlett?" I asked between mouthfuls of goodness.
"With your father."
That stopped me midbite. "Err, really?" I said. "Where? Here?"
"They've gone for a walk, apparently," Gran said. Her tone implied exactly what she thought of this improper walk.
I wasn't prepared to think of my parents together. That was disconcerting in a life-altering sort of way. "You think they'll bring back ice cream?" I asked.
"If you ask, I believe they will both do anything." Gran squeezed my knee, and I kept my suddenly teary eyes on the kitchen sink across from me. "We all would."
"Gran —" My voice broke with the emotion once again choking my throat. I never remembered being like this before — so racked with emotion and constantly on the edge of tears — not even as a teenager.
"Not as many as you would think, Jade." Gran answered my unasked question. "We slowed the demons. They became unfocused once you penetrated Sienna's circle. Then the blindingly gorgeous Brazilian man who seemed to appear from nowhere healed many I would have thought already beyond the veil."
Excuse me, grandmother? Blindingly gorgeous Brazilian? Up to that point, I would have told you that my Gran didn't even notice people's gender... just whether they were Adept or not.
"Qiuniu," I murmured.
"Oh, yes," Gran said — and then she actually rested her hand on her heart as if it was beating too fast. "You should have seen him run to you when you fell."
"I think that was Kett," I said dryly.
Gran waved this comment off. "After that. And the kiss! I could actually feel the magic moving from him to you."
"I gather I'm not the only one he kisses like that, Gran."
"No matter," Gran said as she stood to clear the plates. "Even if you're one of the few he kisses like that, it's good to remember."
Oh, God! I could see the matchmaking wheels turning. Gran now saw me married to a guardian dragon. One of the nine. The idea was utterly terrifying.
"Leave it," I said to Gran. "I want to bake."
Gran looked pleased — it didn't always take a gorgeous Brazilian to turn her head — and I wandered back to my bedroom for some sneakers and a hair elastic.
The bakery was open and full of customers. Bryn squealed and threw her arms around my neck when I entered the kitchen from the apartment stairs. Her dark hair was longer than I remembered — the bob now brushed her shoulders.
"Missed you," she whispered into my hair. Bryn didn't have a drop of magic in her, but I swore she was related to the skinwalkers. The brave, practically-human-themselves skinwalkers, who had defended the necromancers with their lives.
I pushed my rising tears away — again! — and tried to not hug Bryn too fiercely.
"Are you back?" she asked.
I looked up and saw Gran over Bryn's shoulder. She'd paused halfway through the kitchen on her way to the storefront — paused to hear me answer Bryn's question.
"Will you stay?" Gran asked.
"Yes," I answered them both.
"Perfect!" Bryn declared. Then she squealed again and said, "I have something for you to try." She ran out of the kitchen. The swing doors, which I often kept open while I was baking so I could see a slice of the bakery and street, swung closed behind her.
"Hot chocolate," Gran said. "She's been testing recipes with your ganache as a base. Dark and semisweet."
"Nice," I said. That was a great idea for the fall season. It was obvious the bakery would be okay without me, but I wasn't ready to walk away from everything I'd worked so hard and spent so many early mornings to build.
I ran my hand over the pristinely clean stainless steel counters and smiled.
"You'll stay," Gran said.
"I can't promise not to travel."
"Why not?" Gran said with a shrug. "There's a portal in the basement only you can use." She laughed, not a hint of fear in her face. I'd been wrong. I thought she'd be afraid of my dragon half. "You were brilliant, my Jade," Gran whispered. "I'm so proud of you."
My heart constricted. My thoughts were on the knife upstairs, and on the blood magic I'd performed. Gran couldn't forgive that. She would never be proud of that.
She stepped back to me and touched my hand where it still rested on the workstation.
"There's this knife I made," I whispered.
"I've seen it," Gran said, completely matter of fact.
"The treasure keeper wouldn't take it, but he also didn't think it was for me to wield."
"Interesting. He was the bear of a man... dragon, I mean... in the fur coat?"
"Yeah."
"Well, we'll talk more about that later, shall we?"
"Will there be a tribunal? For London, or Tofino?" I wasn't quite ready to simply brush it off yet.
"No," Gran said, her tone unassailable. "It's done. The price has been paid."
Sienna was dead, she meant. And oddly, she didn't sound completely happy about it. Perhaps Gran hadn't buried every hint of love she'd held for her foster child.
"The knife," Gran continued. "And... anything else isn't anyone's business."
"The end justified the means?"
"Today, yes. Maybe not tomorrow."
Well, it was hard to argue with that.
"And Sienna's... body?"
"Cremated."
"And the human victims?" I asked.
Gran sighed. "You wanted to bake."
"When I was in London... when I thought Kett was dead and Kandy was dying. And Mory... I didn't know what to do. I should know what to do."
Gran nodded. "The Convocation employs investigative teams. For Tofino and London there was no investigation, just cleanup."
"You covered up a mass murder in Tofino?" I didn't know how I felt about that.
"Restaged."
"With someone else taking the blame? One of the humans?"
"Yes. At a campsite."
Silence fell between us. Gran waited patiently for my next question, but no matter how many questions I asked today I wasn't going to feel any better. I understood that the Adept had to limit their exposure to the nonmagical world, had to protect themselves... but I didn't have to like it.
"I think I shall have Todd make me a latte," Gran said.
She turned away and I let her go. I was wearier than I'd thought when I first woke.
The healing of my soul would obviously take the longest of all.
Kandy wandered into the bakery kitchen via the back alley just after lunch. I was shocked to see her arm in a sling, but tried to not show it.
"Purple?" I asked, referencing her newly dyed hair.
Kandy bared her teeth in the nonsmile that usually preceded claws also being bared. "Lara thought she'd be funny," she spat, "seeing as how I'm currently unable to wring her neck."
Lara was alive then — thank God — and she was obviously still mad about purple.
"I don't like it as much as the green," I said, hardly believing that to be the truth even as it came out of my mouth.
"Give me two or three days," Kandy said. "I'll fix it."
"And is Lara's neck still in jeopardy?"
Kandy shrugged and ran her finger around the edge of a bowl I'd filled with warm chocolate ganache. Bryn's hot chocolate idea had galvanized me to try a recipe I'd always deemed too difficult to serve and too costly to charge for.
"Gone," Kandy said, answering my question about Lara. "Back to Portland. All of them."
The last sentence was heavy with implication. Desmond, she meant, was back in Portland. Fine. That was where he belonged.
"And yet, you're here," I said.
Kandy shrugged again, then leaned around me to see what I was making.
"Grab a couple of stools from the office," I said.
She obligingly wandered off into my tiny, windowless back office and came out with two stools. She plunked them down on the opposite side of the steel workstation across from me.
I crossed to the freezer and pulled out the ice cream I'd put in there to set. I'd never actually used the ice cream maker before, but found it upstairs in a cupboard when I thought to look. Thank you, Scarlett.
"What are you making?" Kandy breathed with anticipation. She lifted her nose and scented the air.
"Just wait," I said with a glance at my oven timer. I poured a circle of chocolate ganache — it was thick but still pourable — on two plates. "Are you staying in Vancouver?" I asked the purple-haired werewolf as I carefully sliced two strawberries.
"Why not?" Kandy answered. Her grin wasn't as nonchalant as her tone.
"Shouldn't you be with the pack?"
"They'll get along fine without me."
"But I won't?"
"Nope."
A warm mushy feeling bloomed in my chest and I grinned at Kandy like an idiot.
"Ice cream?" she asked.
I laughed, then pulled a teaspoon through the ice cream twice to collect two tiny scoops. It could have used another hour in the freezer, but Kandy wouldn't care.
"The kid is upset."
"Mory?"
"Yup."
"But alive."
"Thankfully."
"Is she angry I didn't let her kill Sienna?"
"She tried to kill the black witch?"
"Yeah."
"Shit. No, she's mourning Rusty."
So I had felt Rusty's magic along with the necromancers' spell as it passed over me to break Sienna's hold on the souls she'd collected. "He carried the spell?" I asked, my prep momentarily forgotten.
"Yeah. It was the only way they could figure out how to get it through to the black witch. He was already tied to her."
"And he hasn't come back?"
"Nope. Moved on, they're saying. Might be for the best though, you know?"
Yeah, I knew. Mory didn't need to have her dead brother, who might also be a serial werewolf killer, hanging around for the rest of her life. But the fledgling necromancer wouldn't see it that way.
"A lot of people sacrificed themselves to save the day."
Kandy nodded.
"How many?" I forced myself to ask the question.
"Desmond brought our thirteen best fighters. All volunteers, all capable of half-beast form. Trained, Jade, to defend the pack at any cost."
"How many?"
"We lost two, Jamie, a fox, and a werewolf, Tina."
I'd seen Jamie in fox form just outside of the park ranger's hut, but never met him or Tina in person. I inhaled deeply and then held my breath to stop myself from crying. Then I asked, "And who survived but won't ever be the same again?"
"That dragon healer is crazy powerful. He brought back three that I thought were already dead and Audrey."
"Audrey?"
"Yeah, she was a goner. The healer brought her back, but she was still crazy injured. Desmond finished the job by making her beta, tying her to the collective power of the pack. Tore a big chunk out of his arm and fed it to her right there on the beach. An accession is usually a bit more formal."
I stared at Kandy.
She shrugged. "The bitch saved my life. She's going to be totally insufferable about it."
"So now the truth comes out. Audrey's staying in Portland, so you're staying here."
Kandy grinned. "Something like that."
The oven buzzer sounded.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Always."
Pushing away all the things I knew I would grieve over for months — even years — to come, I focused solely on the task before me. I pulled the cupcakes out of the oven just as Kett wandered back from the storefront and settled onto the stool beside Kandy. I'd known he'd been pretending to drink coffee with Gran out front, though I doubt they'd exchanged a single word. The werewolf didn't acknowledge the vampire. Her eyes were firmly fixed on me as I flipped the hot cupcakes onto the cooling rack. I'd only baked two to start, because they had to be served warm. Gran would have to wait for the next round.
"I gather we have a circlet to steal from Blackwell?" Kett asked as I placed the piping hot cupcakes on the ganache in the center of each plate.
"It isn't stealing when the retrieval is dragon certified." I quickly poured the remaining ganache over the hot cupcakes, then dropped the mini scoops of ice cream on top, along with the fanned sliced strawberries.
Kandy snickered and Kett nodded sagely, as if he'd known I was going to take Blackwell's circlet and give it to the dragons for safekeeping all along.
I pushed the plate across the table to Kandy. She gazed at it in awe.
"This is not a cupcake," she said. Her tone was reverent, as if confronted by some miracle.
"It is," I answered. "It's a molten dark chocolate cupcake covered in ganache and served with a dollop of mint ice cream."
I found a fork and took a bite. It was utter heaven in my mouth.
Kandy didn't bother with a fork. She picked the dripping cake up off her plate, smearing warm chocolate all over her fingers, and wedged a quarter of it into her mouth.
"I'm thinking of calling it _Unity in a Cup_."
"Screw that," Kandy said, her mouth full. "It's a freaking orgasm in a freaking cup."
I laughed and took another bite, closing my eyes to savor this one. "It's like you and Kett had babies," I said, my mouth full of insanely good goodness that tasted almost exactly like Kandy's and Kett's magic combined... except sweeter.
"That's disgusting," Kandy sneered. Then she lifted her plate and licked it clean... literally.
Kett threw his head back and started to laugh.
I took a third bite and melted into the perfectly molten moment.
**Keep reading for a preview of book one of the Oracle Series and to download the Dowser Series cookbook for free >>>**
Please enjoy a preview from **I See Me** (Oracle 1), which falls between Dowser 3 and Dowser 4 in the reading order of the Adept Universe.
"There's that guy again." Sprawled facedown over the black vinyl chair, I had a perfect view of West Broadway through the storefront window of Get Inked.
"What guy?" Tyler muttered as he hunched over my bare shoulder with his two-coil tattoo machine. Someone had to come up with a better name for that, other than 'tattoo gun.' Most ink artists hated calling it that.
"That guy... from the pizza place two days ago. The guy who tried to buy me a slice of pepperoni, like I eat meat."
I didn't point. I wasn't stupid enough to move my shoulder and risk ruining the ink. All Tyler had to do was look up and he'd see the guy drinking a venti Starbucks and leaning against the pockmarked concrete wall of the convenience store across the street. A tall, skinny guy wearing black jeans and a knit hat in an attempt to look like a hipster, but really just hiding stringy, dirty blond hair. I was serious about the 'dirty' part, as in actual dirt. If the guy let his teeth yellow any worse, they'd match his hair. At least he hadn't actually smelled when he sidled up to me a couple of days ago.
"The daisy would look so much cooler with some color," Tyler muttered. He wasn't easy to distract once he had the two-coil in hand. Normally I liked that about him. "Red... pink?"
"It's a peony."
"What?"
"A peony. And daisies aren't red."
"Fine. I'll stick with the boring black, as usual." Tyler snapped a used cartridge out of his tattoo machine and plugged in a new one. Then he started filling in the edges of my newest design. I'd copied my peony sketch onto transfer paper about two hours ago, and Tyler and I had argued over its placement for another hour. It had taken me three months to get the flower design exactly right — as perfect as I'd seen it in my head — and ready for its permanent place on my shoulder.
I had a tattoo of barbed wire with various things snagged in the spikes running up my left arm. The 'things' were eclectic — keys, spiders... even a black-and-white Canadian flag. With the addition of the peony, I was getting Tyler to extend the tattoo over my shoulder now. Eventually, it would meet and intermingle about two-thirds of the way across my back with the ivy leaf pattern that ran up my right arm.
"I don't like him," I said. The guy across the street was playing with something, rolling something silver around in his hand. Pedestrians were steadily passing by him in either direction, but he hadn't once bothered to glance up from his phone.
West Broadway was a major artery through this part of the city. It ran all the way from Burnaby up to the University of British Columbia, which was pretty much as west as it got without running into the Pacific Ocean. As was typical for January in Vancouver, the day was gray. Despite the cloud cover, I kept catching flashes of silver when the light hit whatever the guy was fooling around with. It was probably some creepy magic trick with coins or something.
"He tried to talk to me."
"He must be insane then. Who would want to talk to you?"
Tyler was joking, but it wasn't that far from the truth. I could count my friends on one hand. If I included my social-worker-of-the-day, I'd have to use my thumb.
I didn't like people, so I tried to make sure they knew it right away. The moment they saw me, actually. I dyed my pale blond hair black, and wore it cut blunt just above my shoulders. I also wore white-framed tinted glasses over my weirdly pale gray eyes no matter the weather, and covered myself with as much black ink as I could without getting kicked out of the Residence. So nothing on my neck, face, or hands. I couldn't even get the multiple piercings I wanted, so I hadn't bothered with any. Not even in my ears.
That would all change today.
Today was my nineteenth birthday.
The Residence, which was what we nicknamed the group home for older kids, wasn't going to kick me out. Not right away, at least. Not without another place to stay. But I'd be encouraged to move on. Hell, they'd been 'transitioning' me for two years now.
And yeah, I was an orphan. Something that wouldn't even rate mentioning after today. Because no one cared if an adult had parents. As far as I'd seen, most adults tried to pretend they didn't have parents. Except my shrink, who'd tried to invite me for Christmas dinner last year. As if I wanted to be trapped next to a huge turkey carcass with twenty people I didn't know. Twenty strangers who all knew exactly who I was.
I doubt client confidentiality kept anyone's mouth shut about me, ever. I was such a sad case. Cue the tiny violin. Orphaned at birth. Mother killed in a terrible car accident. Her body never identified. Father and extended family unknown. Surname unknown. Never adopted, though a couple of families gave it a good try. And — wait for it — with a diagnosis. The shame. The stigma. Gasp.
Excuse me while I choke on your sympathy.
Two more hours, and I could leave the country if I wanted.
And that was exactly the plan.
I was done with Vancouver. For now, at least. I might even get around to changing my name, if I could ever think of anything better than Rochelle Saintpaul. Yeah, the nurses at St. Paul's Hospital nicknamed me 'little rock,' because I never cried. Flattering, huh? I'd seen the nickname in the nurses' handwritten notes in my Ministry of Children and Family Development file. Then, when it came time to fill out my birth certificate, my social-worker-of-the-day figured out that Rochelle meant 'little rock,' and bam, I had an official name.
Whatever. Who wanted to live where it rained every day anyway?
(END OF PREVIEW)
**To continue reading be sure to pick up**
**I See Me (Oracle 1)**
Are you interested in baking the cupcakes from the Dowser Series? Well, now you can!
* * *
**Sign up for Meghan Ciana Doidge's**
**NEW RELEASE MAILING LIST**
**to download your copy for free.**
Join Meghan Ciana Doidge's NEW RELEASE MAILING LIST to be the first to know when the next book in the Adept Universe is available.
# Acknowledgments
**For Michael**
**If I have to fight demons I'm glad I do so by your side**
* * *
With thanks to:
My story & line editor
Scott Fitzgerald Gray
My proofreaders
Pauline Nolet and Leiah Cooper
My beta readers
Ita Margalit and Joanne Schwartz
For their continual encouragement, feedback, & general advice
Patrick Creery, for the French
Gertie, for the cupcake holders
Heather Doidge-Sidhu, for double-checking everyone
My lovely bloggers, for reading & reviewing
For her Art
Elizabeth Mackey
# About the Author
**Meghan Ciana Doidge** is an award-winning writer based out of Salt Spring Island, British Columbia, Canada. She has a penchant for bloody love stories, superheroes, and the supernatural. She also has a thing for chocolate, potatoes, and cashmere yarn.
* * *
NEW RELEASE MAILING LIST
* * *
MONTHLY NEWSLETTER
* * *
**Please also consider leaving an honest review at your preferred retailer.**
For recipes, giveaways, news, and glimpses of upcoming stories, please connect with Meghan via:
www.madebymeghan.ca
[email protected]
Facebook
Twitter
# Also by Meghan Ciana Doidge
Novels
After The Virus
Spirit Binder
Time Walker
Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic (Dowser 1)
Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic (Dowser 2)
Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (Dowser 3)
I See Me (Oracle 1)
Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (Dowser 4)
Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser 5)
I See You (Oracle 2)
Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic (Dowser 6)
I See Us (Oracle 3)
Catching Echoes (Reconstructionist 1)
Tangled Echoes (Reconstructionist 2)
Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3)
* * *
Novellas/Shorts
Love Lies Bleeding
The Graveyard Kiss (Reconstructionist 0.5)
Dawn Bytes (Reconstructionist 1.5)
An Uncut Key (Reconstructionist 2.5)
* * *
www.madebymeghan.ca
Copyright © 2014 Meghan Ciana Doidge
Published by Old Man in the CrossWalk Productions 2014
Vancouver, BC, Canada
www.oldmaninthecrosswalk.com
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be produced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, objects, and incidents herein are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual things, events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Library and Archives Canada
Doidge, Meghan Ciana, 1973 —
Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic/Meghan Ciana Doidge — SMASHWORDS EDITION
Cover image & design by Elizabeth Mackey
ISBN 978-1-927850-11-4
|
<filename>cmd/singlepage/main.go
package main
import (
"errors"
"fmt"
"io"
"os"
"zgo.at/singlepage"
"zgo.at/zli"
)
const usage = `usage: singlepage [flags] file.html
Bundle external assets in a HTML file to distribute a stand-alone HTML document.
https://github.com/arp242/singlepage
The -local, -remote, and -minify can be given more than once and/or accept a
comma-separated list of asset types; the default is to include all the supported
types. Pass an empty string to disable the feature (e.g. -remote '').
Flags:
-h, -help Show this help.
-v, -version Show version; add twice for detailed build info.
-q, -quiet Don't print warnings to stderr.
-S, -strict Fail on lookup or parse errors instead of leaving the content alone.
-w, -write Write the result to the input file instead of printing it.
-r, -root Assets are looked up relative to the path in -root, which may
be a remote path (e.g. http://example.com), in which case all
"//resources" are fetched relative to that domain (and are
treated as external).
-l, -local Filetypes to include from the local filesystem. Supports css,
js, img, and font.
-r, -remote Filetypes to include from remote sources. Only only
"http://", "https://", and "//" are supported; "//" is
treated as "https://". Suports css, js, img, and font.
-m, -minify Filetypes to minify. Support js, css, and html.
`
func fatal(err error) {
if err == nil {
return
}
zli.Errorf(err)
fmt.Print("\n", usage)
zli.Exit(1)
}
func main() {
f := zli.NewFlags(os.Args)
var (
help = f.Bool(false, "h", "help")
versionF = f.IntCounter(0, "v", "version")
quiet = f.Bool(false, "q", "quiet")
strict = f.Bool(false, "S", "strict")
write = f.Bool(false, "w", "write")
root = f.String("", "r", "root", "")
local = f.StringList([]string{"css,js,img"}, "l", "local")
remote = f.StringList([]string{"css,js,img"}, "r", "remote")
minify = f.StringList([]string{"css,js,html"}, "m", "minify")
)
fatal(f.Parse())
if help.Bool() {
fmt.Print(usage)
return
}
if versionF.Int() > 0 {
zli.PrintVersion(versionF.Int() > 1)
return
}
opts := singlepage.NewOptions(root.String(), strict.Bool(), quiet.Bool())
err := opts.Commandline(local.StringsSplit(","), remote.StringsSplit(","), minify.StringsSplit(","))
fatal(err)
path := f.Shift()
if path == "" && write.Bool() {
fatal(errors.New("cannot use -write when reading from stdin"))
}
fp, err := zli.InputOrFile(path, quiet.Bool())
fatal(err)
defer fp.Close()
b, err := io.ReadAll(fp)
fatal(err)
html, err := singlepage.Bundle(b, opts)
fatal(err)
if write.Bool() {
fp.Close()
fatal(os.WriteFile(path, []byte(html), 0644))
} else {
fmt.Println(html)
}
}
|
Automatic Car Parking with Arduino, LDR Sensor
Now days it is very important to save the time, money in terms of travelling and parking too. If any one goes to the shopping, people didn’t know, is there any space to the vehicle parking or not,in such a cases to save the public time, automatic car parking helps. Working principle is depends on the sensors which is already arranged in the parking area and LDR sensor which is at the entrance of car parking. It’s all manage with LDR sensors and Arduino micro controller .the simulated results with proteus software pursued . |
// Uses batch inversion across all instances in the batch.
fn apply_partial_batch(vec_state: &mut [Vec<F>]) {
// Apply the S-BOX to the first elements of each of the state vector
let mut w: Vec<F> = Vec::new();
let mut accum_prod = F::one();
w.push(accum_prod);
// Calculate the intermediate partial products
for i in 0..vec_state.len() {
accum_prod = accum_prod * &vec_state[i][0];
w.push(accum_prod);
}
// if the accum_prod is zero, it means that one of the S-Boxes is zero
// in that case compute the inverses individually
if accum_prod == F::zero() {
for i in 0..(vec_state.len() - 1) {
if vec_state[i][0] != F::zero() {
vec_state[i][0] = vec_state[i][0].inverse().unwrap();
}
}
} else {
// Calculate the inversion of the products
// Use batch inversion
let mut w_bar = accum_prod.inverse().unwrap();
// Extract the individual inversions
let mut idx: i64 = w.len() as i64 - P::R as i64;
for i in (0..vec_state.len()).rev() {
let vec_1 = vec_state[i][0].clone();
vec_state[i][0] = w_bar * &w[idx as usize];
w_bar = w_bar * &vec_1;
idx -= 1;
}
}
} |
/**
* Tests peer authentication with basic mirror authentication
*/
@Test
public void testPeerMirrorAuthentication() throws InterruptedException {
Random random = new Random(randomSeed);
final int N_PACKETS = 10;
final int MIN_PACKET_SIZE = 1;
final int MAX_PACKET_SIZE = 10;
/* This version should be trusted */
DataChannelFactory channelFactory =
createSSLFactory(addMirrorAuthentication(createSSLFactoryProps()));
runScenario(random, false, channelFactory,
1, N_PACKETS, MIN_PACKET_SIZE, MAX_PACKET_SIZE,
new PeerAuthenticatedChecker(true));
/* No easy way to force a failure */
} |
/*
* Queue an action. Takes the plugin configuration, the Kerberos context, the
* principal, the operation, and a password (which may be NULL for enable and
* disable). Returns a Kerberos error code.
*/
krb5_error_code
sync_queue_write(kadm5_hook_modinfo *config, krb5_context ctx,
krb5_principal principal, const char *operation,
const char *password)
{
char *prefix = NULL, *timestamp = NULL, *path = NULL, *user = NULL;
unsigned int i;
krb5_error_code code;
int lock = -1, fd = -1;
if (config->queue_dir == NULL)
return sync_error_config(ctx, "configuration setting queue_dir"
" missing");
code = queue_prefix(ctx, principal, operation, &prefix);
if (code != 0)
return code;
code = lock_queue(config, ctx, &lock);
if (code != 0)
goto fail;
code = queue_timestamp(ctx, ×tamp);
if (code != 0)
goto fail;
for (i = 0; i < MAX_QUEUE; i++) {
free(path);
path = NULL;
code = asprintf(&path, "%s/%s%s-%02d", config->queue_dir, prefix,
timestamp, i);
if (code < 0) {
code = sync_error_system(ctx, "cannot create queue file name");
goto fail;
}
fd = open(path, O_WRONLY | O_CREAT | O_EXCL, 0600);
if (fd >= 0)
break;
}
code = krb5_unparse_name_flags(ctx, principal,
KRB5_PRINCIPAL_UNPARSE_NO_REALM, &user);
if (code != 0)
goto fail;
WRITE_CHECK(fd, user);
WRITE_CHECK(fd, "\nad\n");
WRITE_CHECK(fd, operation);
WRITE_CHECK(fd, "\n");
if (password != NULL) {
WRITE_CHECK(fd, password);
WRITE_CHECK(fd, "\n");
}
close(fd);
unlock_queue(lock);
krb5_free_unparsed_name(ctx, user);
free(prefix);
free(timestamp);
free(path);
return 0;
fail:
if (fd >= 0) {
if (path != NULL)
unlink(path);
close(fd);
}
if (lock >= 0)
unlock_queue(lock);
if (user != NULL)
krb5_free_unparsed_name(ctx, user);
free(prefix);
free(timestamp);
free(path);
return code;
} |
<reponame>lesspointless/Shakal-NG
# -*- coding: utf-8 -*-
from django.apps import AppConfig as BaseAppConfig
from django.utils.module_loading import autodiscover_modules
class AppConfig(BaseAppConfig):
name = 'fulltext'
verbose_name = "Fulltext"
def ready(self):
autodiscover_modules('fulltext_search')
|
package constant
type Stat string
const (
AgilityStat Stat = "agility"
AttackStat Stat = "attack"
HullStat Stat = "hull"
ShieldsStat Stat = "shields"
PilotSkilStat Stat = "pilot_skill"
)
|
Factors contributing to the length of general practice consultations.
Ten general practitioners in a study of general practice consultations were shown to differ significantly in the time they spent in their consultations. Patient demographic characteristics contributed little to differences in consultation time. Consultations in which (a) there was a diagnosis of psychological disorder, (b) the practitioner and the patients focused attention on psychosocial matters, and (c) psychotropic drugs were prescribed, were found to be associated with increased length of consultation time. |
def create_network128():
in_image = tf.keras.Input(shape=(128, 128, 1))
leaky_relu = tf.keras.layers.LeakyReLU(alpha=0.2)
e = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(32, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(in_image)
e = tf.keras.layers.AveragePooling2D()(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(32, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.AveragePooling2D()(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(64, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.AveragePooling2D()(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(128, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.AveragePooling2D()(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Flatten()(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Dense(512, activation=leaky_relu)(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Dense(128, activation=leaky_relu)(e)
e = tf.keras.layers.Dense(32, activation=leaky_relu)(e)
d = tf.keras.layers.Dense(32, activation=leaky_relu)(e)
d = tf.keras.layers.Dense(128, activation=leaky_relu)(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Dense(512, activation=leaky_relu)(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Dense(8*8*128, activation=leaky_relu)(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Reshape((8,8,128))(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.UpSampling2D()(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(128, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.UpSampling2D()(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(64, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.UpSampling2D()(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(32, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.UpSampling2D()(d)
d = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(32, (3,3), padding='same', activation=leaky_relu, kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(d)
out_image = tf.keras.layers.Conv2D(1, (3,3), padding='same', activation='tanh', kernel_initializer=tf.initializers.he_normal())(d)
model = tf.keras.Model(in_image, out_image)
return model |
<reponame>justlesq/stomweb<filename>src/main/java/com/sohu/stom/modules/order/entity/OrderDetail.java
/**
* Copyright © 2012-2016 <a href="https://github.com/thinkgem/jeesite">JeeSite</a> All rights reserved.
*/
package com.sohu.stom.modules.order.entity;
import org.hibernate.validator.constraints.Length;
import java.util.Date;
import com.fasterxml.jackson.annotation.JsonFormat;
import com.sohu.stom.common.persistence.DataEntity;
/**
* 下单管理Entity
* @author yxf
* @version 2018-03-12
*/
public class OrderDetail extends DataEntity<OrderDetail> {
private static final long serialVersionUID = 1L;
private String appname;
private String orderId; // order外键 父类
private String keyWord; // 关键词
private String totalCount; // 总量
private String finishCount; // 完成量
private String lockCount; // 锁量
private String oldRank; // 原始排名
private String newRank; // 最新排名
private String hot; // hot
private Date putTime; // 上架时间
public OrderDetail() {
super();
}
public OrderDetail(String id){
super(id);
}
public OrderDetail(Order orderId){
//this.orderId = orderId;
}
public String getAppname() {
return appname;
}
public void setAppname(String appname) {
this.appname = appname;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="order外键长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getOrderId() {
return orderId;
}
public void setOrderId(String orderId) {
this.orderId = orderId;
}
@Length(min=0, max=64, message="关键词长度必须介于 0 和 64 之间")
public String getKeyWord() {
return keyWord;
}
public void setKeyWord(String keyWord) {
this.keyWord = keyWord;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="总量长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getTotalCount() {
return totalCount;
}
public void setTotalCount(String totalCount) {
this.totalCount = totalCount;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="完成量长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getFinishCount() {
return finishCount;
}
public void setFinishCount(String finishCount) {
this.finishCount = finishCount;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="锁量长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getLockCount() {
return lockCount;
}
public void setLockCount(String lockCount) {
this.lockCount = lockCount;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="原始排名长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getOldRank() {
return oldRank;
}
public void setOldRank(String oldRank) {
this.oldRank = oldRank;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="最新排名长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getNewRank() {
return newRank;
}
public void setNewRank(String newRank) {
this.newRank = newRank;
}
@Length(min=0, max=11, message="hot长度必须介于 0 和 11 之间")
public String getHot() {
return hot;
}
public void setHot(String hot) {
this.hot = hot;
}
@JsonFormat(pattern = "yyyy-MM-dd HH:mm:ss")
public Date getPutTime() {
return putTime;
}
public void setPutTime(Date putTime) {
this.putTime = putTime;
}
} |
package com.centurylink.mdw.boot.servlet;
import java.io.File;
import java.io.IOException;
import javax.servlet.Filter;
import javax.servlet.FilterChain;
import javax.servlet.FilterConfig;
import javax.servlet.ServletException;
import javax.servlet.ServletRequest;
import javax.servlet.ServletResponse;
import javax.servlet.annotation.WebFilter;
import javax.servlet.http.HttpServletRequest;
import org.springframework.beans.factory.annotation.Autowired;
import com.centurylink.mdw.hub.context.ContextPaths;
import com.centurylink.mdw.hub.context.WebAppContext;
import com.centurylink.mdw.hub.servlet.AccessFilter;
@WebFilter(urlPatterns={"/*"})
public class WebContentFilter implements Filter {
@Autowired
private ContextPaths contextPaths;
@Override
public void init(FilterConfig filterConfig) {
}
@Override
public void doFilter(ServletRequest servletRequest, ServletResponse servletResponse, FilterChain chain)
throws IOException, ServletException {
HttpServletRequest request = (HttpServletRequest) servletRequest;
String path = request.getServletPath();
if (request.getPathInfo() != null)
path += request.getPathInfo();
if (contextPaths.isHubPath(path)) {
if (request.getSession().getAttribute("authenticatedUser") == null) {
// let access filter redirect if not authenticated
new AccessFilter().doFilter(servletRequest, servletResponse, new FilterChain() {
public void doFilter(ServletRequest servletRequest, ServletResponse servletResponse)
throws IOException, ServletException {
HttpServletRequest request = (HttpServletRequest) servletRequest;
String path = request.getServletPath();
if (request.getPathInfo() != null)
path += request.getPathInfo();
if (new File(WebAppContext.getMdw().getOverrideRoot() + path).isFile()) {
request.getRequestDispatcher("/customContent" + path).forward(servletRequest, servletResponse);
}
else {
request.getRequestDispatcher("/hub" + path).forward(servletRequest, servletResponse);
}
}
});
}
else if (new File(WebAppContext.getMdw().getOverrideRoot() + path).isFile()) {
request.getRequestDispatcher("/customContent" + path).forward(servletRequest, servletResponse);
}
else {
request.getRequestDispatcher("/hub" + path).forward(servletRequest, servletResponse);
}
}
else {
chain.doFilter(servletRequest, servletResponse);
}
}
@Override
public void destroy() {
}
}
|
A U.S. District Judge has sentenced Jonathan Schwatz, the former business manager who stole millions of dollars from Alanis Morissette and his other clients, to six years in prison today. The sentence came after Morissette testified at Schwatz’s hearing, presumably keeping one hand in her pocket, and the other on the Bible they used to swear her in.
The Jagged Little Pill singer asked the court to send a “clear message” to the managers of the world. (“Don’t fuck with Alanis Morissette,” we assume, although it might have been a wider point about not robbing your clients.) Schwatz’s attorney called for clemency, though, asking for a prison sentence of a year and a day, plus house arrest and community service, and claiming a gambling addiction led his client to his thefts. (The U.S. Attorney’s office went nasty on that point, denying the existence of Schwatz’s condition, and saying that, because he was “sophisticated and highly intelligent,” he could have stopped his alleged gambling whenever he wanted. Yeesh.)
Advertisement
In any case, the call for mercy fell, like rain on your wedding day, upon deaf ears, with the judge giving a sentence even longer than the one recommended by the prosecution. And so, Jonathan Schwatz will spend the next six years in prison for his crimes. We just thought that you oughta know.
[via The Hollywood Reporter] |
def __validate_objects_between_tables(page1, page1_table, page2, page2_table, header_footer_type: HeaderFooterType):
header_footer_height = header_footer_type.value/11
table1_end_y = page1_table.geometry.polygon[2].y
if any(1-header_footer_height > line.geometry.polygon[2].y > table1_end_y for line in page1.lines):
return False
table2_start_y = page2_table.geometry.boundingBox.top
if any(header_footer_height < line.geometry.boundingBox.top < table2_start_y for line in page2.lines):
return False
return True |
<reponame>wigforss/spring-nats
package org.kasource.spring.nats.message.serde.xml;
import java.io.File;
import java.net.MalformedURLException;
import java.net.URL;
import java.util.Map;
import java.util.Optional;
import java.util.concurrent.ConcurrentHashMap;
import javax.xml.XMLConstants;
import javax.xml.bind.annotation.XmlSchema;
import javax.xml.validation.Schema;
import javax.xml.validation.SchemaFactory;
import org.xml.sax.SAXException;
public class XmlSchemaFactory {
private SchemaFactory sf = SchemaFactory.newInstance(XMLConstants.W3C_XML_SCHEMA_NS_URI);
private Map<Class<?>, Optional<Schema>> schemasPerClass = new ConcurrentHashMap<>();
public Optional<Schema> schemaFor(Class<?> clazz) {
Optional<Schema> schema = schemasPerClass.get(clazz);
if (schema == null) {
schema = loadSchema(clazz);
schemasPerClass.put(clazz, schema);
}
return schema;
}
private Optional<Schema> loadSchema(Class<?> clazz) {
XmlSchema xmlSchema = clazz.getPackage().getAnnotation(XmlSchema.class);
if (xmlSchema != null && !XmlSchema.NO_LOCATION.equals(xmlSchema.location())) {
try {
return loadSchema(xmlSchema.location());
} catch (SAXException e) {
throw new IllegalStateException("Could not parse XML Schema from " + xmlSchema.location(), e);
}
} else {
return Optional.empty();
}
}
private Optional<Schema> loadSchema(String location) throws SAXException {
try {
return Optional.of(sf.newSchema(new URL(location)));
} catch (MalformedURLException e) {
// Try file
return Optional.of(sf.newSchema(new File(location)));
}
}
}
|
<reponame>jhhuh/franz
{-# LANGUAGE RecordWildCards #-}
module Database.Franz.Internal.IO (getInt64le, runGetRecv, hGetRange) where
import Data.IORef
import Data.Serialize hiding (getInt64le)
import Data.Typeable (cast)
import Foreign.Ptr
import Foreign.ForeignPtr
import Foreign.C.Types
import GHC.IO.Exception
import GHC.IO.Handle.Internals (withHandle_)
import GHC.IO.Handle.Types (Handle__(..), Handle)
import Network.Socket as S
import Network.Socket.ByteString as SB
import System.Endian (fromLE64)
import System.IO.Error
import System.Posix.Types (Fd(..))
import qualified Data.ByteString as B
import qualified Data.ByteString.Internal as B
import qualified GHC.IO.FD as FD
import Data.Word (Word8)
-- | Better implementation of 'Data.Serialize.getInt64le'
getInt64le :: Num a => Get a
getInt64le = fromIntegral . fromLE64 <$> getWord64host
{-# INLINE getInt64le #-}
runGetRecv :: IORef B.ByteString -> S.Socket -> Get a -> IO (Either String a)
runGetRecv refBuf sock m = do
lo <- readIORef refBuf
let go (Done a lo') = do
writeIORef refBuf lo'
return $ Right a
go (Partial cont) = SB.recv sock 4096 >>= go . cont
go (Fail str lo') = do
writeIORef refBuf lo'
return $ Left $ show sock ++ str
bs <- if B.null lo
then SB.recv sock 4096
else pure lo
go $ runGetPartial m bs
withFd :: Handle -> (Fd -> IO a) -> IO a
withFd h f = withHandle_ "withFd" h $ \ Handle__{..} -> do
case cast haDevice of
Nothing -> ioError (ioeSetErrorString (mkIOError IllegalOperation
"withFd" (Just h) Nothing)
"handle is not a file descriptor")
Just fd -> f (Fd (fromIntegral (FD.fdFD fd)))
foreign import ccall safe "pread"
c_pread :: Fd -> Ptr Word8 -> CSize -> CSize -> IO CSize
hGetRange :: Handle -> Int -> Int -> IO B.ByteString
hGetRange h len ofs = do
fptr <- B.mallocByteString len
count <- withFd h $ \fd -> withForeignPtr fptr $ \ptr -> c_pread fd ptr (fromIntegral len) (fromIntegral ofs)
pure $ B.PS fptr 0 $ fromIntegral count |
<gh_stars>0
import requests, xmltodict, xmltodict, json, unicodedata
import sys
print(sys.getdefaultencoding())
# XML url
XML_URL = 'https://raw.githubusercontent.com/servicosgovbr/cartas-de-servico/master/cartas-servico/v3/lista-completa-servicos.xml'
# Get XML from URL
with requests.Session() as session:
request = session.get(XML_URL)
content = request.content
# Parse to JSON to fix encode
xml_dict = xmltodict.parse(content)
j = json.dumps(xml_dict)
j_encoded = j
CONTENT_DICT = json.loads(j_encoded)
with open('../test.txt', 'w') as f:
f.write(j)
# Example of output
print(CONTENT_DICT)
|
/*
* reset and start the controller registers
*/
void azx_init_chip(struct azx *chip, bool full_reset)
{
if (snd_hdac_bus_init_chip(azx_bus(chip), full_reset)) {
if (chip->driver_caps & AZX_DCAPS_CTX_WORKAROUND)
azx_writew(chip, RINTCNT, 0xc0);
}
} |
The New Jersey Devils’ line in the NHL standings may be the saddest thing in the hockey world.
They sit at 34-29-16, good for 84 points in 79 games, which leaves them three points behind Columbus for the final Eastern Conference playoff spot. Despite a late surge, time is running out, and the Devils will almost certainly fall just short of the playoffs.
But that’s not the sad part. Keep scanning the row of numbers and you hit one that has literally never been seen before: 0-11. It shows up in the shootout column, and it represents 11 consecutive losses in the NHL’s tiebreaking sideshow. If the Devils end up going winless in shootouts this season, it will be the worst performance in league history. Only one other team, the 2006-07 Hurricanes, went an entire season without winning a shootout, and they only lost five.
In the nine seasons the NHL has featured shootouts, we’ve come to learn they’re basically all luck, in the sense that teams that are especially good or bad at them one year are no more likely to repeat the status than anyone else. There’s individual skill involved, sure, but at the team level, we’re essentially flipping coins. Do you know how hard it is to have a coin come up tails 11 times in a row? Go ahead and try it; I’ll wait here until you give up.
If the Devils had managed to just be bad in the shootout — let’s say four wins and seven losses — they’d be in great shape right now. But the Devils are 0-for-11, and they’re probably going to miss the playoffs because of it.
And, as broken down in detail here, they’re doing it despite a roster full of players who’ve historically had decent shootout success. Yet in a league in which shooters typically convert on about one-third of their shootout chances, the Devils have somehow managed to go just 3-for-39. Their team shooting percentage in the shootout is significantly worse than their shooting percentage during the actual games, which, when you really think about it, should probably be impossible.
And it’s not like they’re some expansion-level roster full of cast-offs — they have the league’s active leading scorer and all-time winningest goaltender. But none of it matters.
It almost defies belief. So just to make sure this hasn’t all been a bad dream, I went back and rewatched every shot of every Devils shootout from this season. And since I don’t like to suffer alone, now I’m going to make you relive it all with me.
October 4: Islanders 4, Devils 3
What Devils fans were thinking: Oh yay, a shootout, these are fun!
The goalie: Martin Brodeur
The shooters: Damien Brunner, Ryane Clowe, Patrik Elias, Travis Zajac, Michael Ryder, Jaromir Jagr
Did anyone score? No.
Highlights: The very first round gives you a hint as to how the rest of the year is going to go, as Brunner dekes past Evgeni Nabokov’s pokecheck attempt and then shoots it directly into his pad, followed by Brodeur stopping Frans Nielsen but appearing to hurt himself in the process. Clowe’s appearance briefly makes everyone wonder if they blacked out for 10 rounds. Pierre-Marc Bouchard tries Jason Allison’s patented “skate in slowly enough that the goalie might die of old age” move, but Brodeur stops him. Brodeur also stops John Tavares, then has to make a second save when the puck defies the laws of physics by trying to bounce directly into the net on the rebound because the hockey gods are sending a message.
New York’s Matt Moulson eventually wins it in Round 6, then vows to be traded at least twice before the Devils mange to win one of these.
How cruel was it in hindsight? Watching six guys fail to score couldn’t have been fun, though Brodeur looked sharp. Ah well. Get ’em next time, right?
October 7: Oilers 5, Devils 4
What Devils fans were thinking: Oh yay, a shootout, these are fun (except for that last one).
The goalie: Brodeur
The shooters: Brunner, Clowe
Did anyone score? No.
Highlights: Brunner tries the Forsberg move, but puts it wide. Jordan Eberle and David Perron both beat Brodeur with essentially the same move, and this one is done after just two rounds.
How cruel was it in hindsight? Pretty cruel, since the Devils had blown a 3-0 lead in regulation. And also, it was a loss to the Edmonton Oilers. Probably more that second part, actually.
October 24: Canucks 3, Devils 2
What Devils fans were thinking: Oh yay. A shootout. Wonderful. No really, I’m not being sarcastic.
The goalie: Cory Schneider
The shooters: Zajac, Adam Henrique, Elias
Did anyone score? Of course not.
Highlights: This was the big Schneider vs. Roberto Luongo showdown, but you already get a sense the Devils are feeling the pressure as they unveil a new shooting lineup. It doesn’t help. Mike Santorelli opens things up by beating Schneider, and that’s all the Canucks need as the Devils spend the rest of the contest coming as close as possible without scoring. Zajac has the puck roll on him at the last second, Henrique dekes his way to an open net but hits the post, and Elias gets Luongo to look behind him before realizing he made the save.
How cruel was it in hindsight? This would have been a big win for Schneider personally, and all three Devils misses were flat-out painful.
November 8: Maple Leafs 2, Devils 1
What Devils fans were thinking: Yeah, these can stop happening any time now.
The goalie: Schneider
The shooters: Ryder, Zajac, Henrique
Did anyone score? Come on.
Highlights: Schneider stops Mason Raymond, who goes with the “skate in and just fall over” move, because, hey, it’s only the Devils. He also stops Phil Kessel, before giving up a goal to James van Riemsdyk. Meanwhile, Ryder is stopped, Zajac hits the post, and Henrique misses by three feet.
How cruel was it in hindsight? Would now be a good time to point out these first four all came against non-playoff teams?
December 4: Canadiens 4, Devils 3
What Devils fans were thinking: It’s been almost a month since our last shootout. I can’t remember, are we good at these?
The goalie: Schneider
The shooters: Reid Boucher, Zajac, Elias
Did anyone score? No. Wait, yes! I’ll be damned, yes!
Highlights: Boucher scores on a nifty deke, at which point the camera immediately shows everyone on the Devils bench smiling and laughing because the curse has finally been lifted. Montreal’s Lars Eller scores immediately, but at least everyone was happy for three seconds. Zajac misses, David Desharnais beats Schneider, and Elias can’t beat Peter Budaj, who kicks off a trend of the Devils losing to increasingly obscure goaltenders.
How cruel was it in hindsight? At least they scored a shootout goal. Baby steps.
December 27: Blue Jackets 2, Devils 1
What Devils fans were thinking: Santa promised me one shootout win for Christmas.
The goalie: Brodeur
The shooters: Jagr, Clowe, Elias
Did anyone score? Can the Devils make it two in a row? [Waits for suspense to build.] No. No they cannot.
Highlights: Jagr tries a slowdown deke move but then shoots it right into Curtis McElhinney’s pad. Don’t worry, we’ll see that one again soon. Clowe comes in wide and works his way back across the net, then can’t think of anything to do once he gets in there. Elias’s attempt has disappeared from the NHL website entirely, probably because of the nation’s anti-obscenity laws. Then Cam Atkinson slides one under Brodeur and everyone goes home.
How cruel was it in hindsight? Santa lied.
January 12: Maple Leafs 3, Devils 2
What Devils fans were thinking: Oh good, the Leafs again. There’s no way we can be more cursed than the Maple Leafs, right?
The goalie: Schneider
The shooters: Jagr, Clowe, Boucher
Did anyone score? Sigh. No.
Highlights: After van Riemsdyk scores, Jagr comes in slowly and then stops and dekes back and forth in front of Jonathan Bernier for so long that Bernier eventually pokes the puck off his stick just to put him out of his misery. There’s a weird unexplained pause before Tyler Bozak shoots in Round 3, during which everyone just stands around, presumably wondering what the point of continuing this charade could possibly be. Boucher’s magical run of successful attempts ends at “one,” which at this point basically makes him the Cal Ripken Jr. of Devils shootout streaks.
How cruel was it in hindsight? The Jagr move was fantastic. If it were up to him, I think he’d still be going.
January 16: Avalanche 2, Devils 1
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RZjZwtmU4I
What Devils fans were thinking: At least put Roy in net and make it interesting.
The goalie: Schneider
The shooters: Elias, Henrique
Did anyone score? Nope.
Highlights: Elias gets absolutely robbed by Semyon Varlamov and then skates off the ice making this face, which pretty much sums it up. Henrique misses the net, and Matt Duchene and Ryan O’Reilly both beat Schneider to seal it.
How cruel was it in hindsight? I’d say this was the tipping point from “this is weird” to “this is freaking ridiculous.”
March 27: Coyotes 3, Devils 2
What Devils fans were thinking: Oh good, it had been more than two months and I was actually starting to enjoy life again.
The goalie: Brodeur
The shooters: Brunner, Clowe, Elias
Did anyone score? Oh shut up.
Highlights: Brunner works a ridiculous move on Thomas Greiss, then has it poked off his stick at the last possible moment. Needing a goal to extend it, Elias goes to the same backhand deke move he’s been using pretty much all year, and gets the same result.
How cruel was it in hindsight? I’m starting to worry about Patrik Elias, you guys.
March 29: Islanders 2, Devils 1
What Devils fans were thinking: Who even cares anymore.
The goalie: Schneider
The shooters: Henrique, Elias
Did anyone score? You’re just making fun of me now, aren’t you?
Highlights: This shootout featured the Islanders using shooters named Nielsen and Nelson and a goalie named Nilsson. I thought that was fun. Also, I think I saw Patrik “0-for-6” Elias try to swallow his own tongue before his attempt.
How cruel was it in hindsight? This was the 10th consecutive shootout loss, and I’m pretty sure most Devils fans had just moved to “acceptance” at this point. It would take something especially cruel to make an impact now. Speaking of which!
April 1: Sabres 3, Devils 2
What Devils fans were thinking: Do your worst, hockey gods. Do your worst.
The goalie: Schneider
The shooters: Jacob Josefson, Brunner, Marek Zidlicky
Did anyone score? Wait, we weren’t done with the shooters.
The shooters: … Jagr, Zajac, Tuomo Ruutu
Did anyone score? Hold on, still going.
The shooters: … Elias, Henrique, Mike Sislo
Did anyone score? You won’t believe this, but: twice! I’m dead serious, the Devils scored twice in the same shootout. (They still lost.)
Highlights: Tyler Ennis and Josefson trade goals to start us off. Four misses later, we’re into a fourth round, and Drew Stafford scores to put the Devils on the brink. But Jagr calmly swoops in to beat Sabres goalie Nathan Lieuwen, because, as we’ll come to realize in hindsight, he doesn’t feel like Devils fans have suffered enough.
We then get four consecutive rounds of Sabres failing to score, which means four consecutive rounds of Devils shooters having a chance to finally end the losing streak. Zajac hits the post. Ruutu puts one off Lieuwen’s blocker. Elias, who by this point is 0-for-7 on the year, fakes a slap shot from five feet out before sliding a harmless shot into Lieuwen’s pads. Henrique shoots wide on a deke, mainly because he has to stick handle around Elias, who is lying on the ice sobbing uncontrollably that he doesn’t want to do this anymore.
Finally, the Sabres turn to Ville Leino in what is presumably some sort of elaborate April Fools’ joke, and he beats Schneider 5-hole because of course he does. That leaves it all on the stick of Sislo, a rookie who had not been born yet when this shootout began, and he’s stopped on a deke attempt.
How cruel was it in hindsight? There’s a very good chance the New Jersey Devils are going to miss the playoffs because they lost a nine-round shootout to Ville Leino, Nathan Lieuwen, and the last-place overall Buffalo Sabres. Yeah, I’d say that was a little cruel. |
// Copyright 2021 <NAME>
#include <gtest/gtest.h>
#include <gtest-mpi-listener.hpp>
#include "./reshetka_tor.h"
TEST(Cor_Tor, Creat_Tor) { // Create tor topology
int ProcRank, ProcNum;
MPI_Comm_rank(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcRank); // Poluchenie ranka
MPI_Comm_size(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcNum); // Poluchenie kol-vo razmerov
int rSize[2] = {0, 0};
MPI_Dims_create(ProcNum, 2, rSize);
MPI_Comm tor_comm = CreateTor(rSize[0], rSize[1]); // Poluchenie CommTor
if (ProcRank == 0) {
ASSERT_TRUE(ExaminationTor(tor_comm, 2, rSize)); // Proverka pravilnogo sozdanie reshetki
}
}
TEST(Cor_Tor, Cor_P) {
int ProcRank, ProcNum;
MPI_Comm_rank(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcRank);
MPI_Comm_size(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcNum);
int rSize[2] = {0, 0};
MPI_Dims_create(ProcNum, 2, rSize); // Sozdanie dekartovoi reshetki
MPI_Comm tor_comm = CreateTor(rSize[0], rSize[1]);
int t_periods[2] = {ProcRank / rSize[1],
ProcRank - (ProcRank / rSize[1]) * rSize[1]}; // Rashet poziciy
int p_coords[2];
MPI_Cart_coords(tor_comm, ProcRank, 2, p_coords); // Poluchenie coordinat
ASSERT_EQ(t_periods[0], p_coords[0]);
ASSERT_EQ(t_periods[1], p_coords[1]);
}
TEST(Cor_Tor, Cor_S) { // Proverka razmera
int ProcRank, ProcNum;
MPI_Comm_rank(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcRank);
MPI_Comm_size(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcNum);
int rSize[2] = {0, 0};
MPI_Dims_create(ProcNum, 2, rSize); // Sozdanie decart
MPI_Comm tor_comm = CreateTor(rSize[0] + 1, rSize[1] + 1); // Poluchenie TorComm
if (ProcRank == 0) {
ASSERT_EQ(tor_comm, MPI_COMM_NULL);
}
}
TEST(Cor_Mail, two_points_of_departure) {
int ProcRank, ProcNum;
MPI_Comm_rank(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcRank);
MPI_Comm_size(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcNum);
int rSize[2] = {0, 0};
MPI_Dims_create(ProcNum, 2, rSize); // Dekart
MPI_Comm tor_comm = CreateTor(rSize[0], rSize[1]); // Poluchenie TorComm
if (ProcNum == 1) { // Proverka kol-vo proccesov
ASSERT_TRUE(true);
} else {
int count = 0; // Otpravliemoe
int control_count = 25; // Control value
int direction[2] = {ProcNum - 1, ProcNum / 2}; // Kuda voevat
if (ProcRank == 0) {
count = 25;
MPI_Send(&count, 1, MPI_INT, direction[0], 1, tor_comm); // Otpravka soobshenia
if (direction[0] != direction[1]) { // Sravnenia napravlenia
MPI_Send(&count, 1, MPI_INT, direction[1], 1, tor_comm);
}
} else if ((ProcRank == direction[0]) || (ProcRank == direction[1])) {
MPI_Status status;
MPI_Recv(&count, 1, MPI_INT, 0, 1, tor_comm, &status); // poluchenie
ASSERT_EQ(count, control_count);
}
}
}
TEST(Cor_Mail, All_MES) { // Otpravka vsemi processami
int ProcRank, ProcNum;
MPI_Comm_rank(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcRank);
MPI_Comm_size(MPI_COMM_WORLD, &ProcNum);
int rSize[2] = {0, 0};
MPI_Dims_create(ProcNum, 2, rSize); // Sozdanie dekart
MPI_Comm tor_comm = CreateTor(rSize[0], rSize[1]);
if (ProcNum == 1) { // Proverka kol-vo proccesov
ASSERT_TRUE(true);
} else {
int value = 0; // Otprovliemoe znachenie
if (ProcRank == 0) {
value = 22; // Zadaem znachenie, if zero Rank
}
MPI_Bcast(&value, 1, MPI_INT, 0, tor_comm); // Rassilka vsem prozecam
int control = value * (ProcRank + 1);
int res = 0;
MPI_Reduce(&control, &res, 1, MPI_INT, MPI_SUM, 0, tor_comm); // Poluchenie podshetov s drugih processov
if (ProcRank == 0) {
int exp = 0;
for (int i = 0; i < ProcNum; i++) {
exp += value * (i + 1);
}
ASSERT_EQ(res, exp);
}
}
}
int main(int argc, char** argv) {
::testing::InitGoogleTest(&argc, argv);
MPI_Init(&argc, &argv);
::testing::AddGlobalTestEnvironment(new GTestMPIListener::MPIEnvironment);
::testing::TestEventListeners& listeners =
::testing::UnitTest::GetInstance()->listeners();
listeners.Release(listeners.default_result_printer());
listeners.Release(listeners.default_xml_generator());
listeners.Append(new GTestMPIListener::MPIMinimalistPrinter);
return RUN_ALL_TESTS();
}
|
// run-pass
// Test that coercing bare fn's that return a zero sized type to
// a closure doesn't cause an LLVM ERROR
// pretty-expanded FIXME #23616
struct Foo;
fn uint_to_foo(_: usize) -> Foo {
Foo
}
#[allow(unused_must_use)]
fn main() {
(0..10).map(uint_to_foo);
}
|
/**
* <p>Computes a G (Log-Likelihood Ratio) two sample test statistic for
* independence comparing frequency counts in
* {@code observed1} and {@code observed2}. The sums of frequency
* counts in the two samples are not required to be the same. The formula
* used to compute the test statistic is </p>
*
* <p>{@code 2 * totalSum * [H(rowSums) + H(colSums) - H(k)]}</p>
*
* <p> where {@code H} is the
* <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy_%28information_theory%29">
* Shannon Entropy</a> of the random variable formed by viewing the elements
* of the argument array as incidence counts; <br>
* {@code k} is a matrix with rows {@code [observed1, observed2]}; <br>
* {@code rowSums, colSums} are the row/col sums of {@code k}; <br>
* and {@code totalSum} is the overall sum of all entries in {@code k}.</p>
*
* <p>This statistic can be used to perform a G test evaluating the null
* hypothesis that both observed counts are independent </p>
*
* <p> <strong>Preconditions</strong>: <ul>
* <li>Observed counts must be non-negative. </li>
* <li>Observed counts for a specific bin must not both be zero. </li>
* <li>Observed counts for a specific sample must not all be 0. </li>
* <li>The arrays {@code observed1} and {@code observed2} must have
* the same length and their common length must be at least 2. </li></ul>
*
* <p>If any of the preconditions are not met, a
* {@code MathIllegalArgumentException} is thrown.</p>
*
* @param observed1 array of observed frequency counts of the first data set
* @param observed2 array of observed frequency counts of the second data
* set
* @return G-Test statistic
* @throws DimensionMismatchException the lengths of the arrays do not
* match or their common length is less than 2
* @throws NotPositiveException if any entry in {@code observed1} or
* {@code observed2} is negative
* @throws ZeroException if either all counts of
* {@code observed1} or {@code observed2} are zero, or if the count
* at the same index is zero for both arrays.
*/
public double gDataSetsComparison(final long[] observed1, final long[] observed2)
throws DimensionMismatchException, NotPositiveException, ZeroException {
if (observed1.length < 2) {
throw new DimensionMismatchException(observed1.length, 2);
}
if (observed1.length != observed2.length) {
throw new DimensionMismatchException(observed1.length, observed2.length);
}
MathArrays.checkNonNegative(observed1);
MathArrays.checkNonNegative(observed2);
long countSum1 = 0;
long countSum2 = 0;
final long[] collSums = new long[observed1.length];
final long[][] k = new long[2][observed1.length];
for (int i = 0; i < observed1.length; i++) {
if (observed1[i] == 0 && observed2[i] == 0) {
throw new ZeroException(LocalizedFormats.OBSERVED_COUNTS_BOTTH_ZERO_FOR_ENTRY, i);
} else {
countSum1 += observed1[i];
countSum2 += observed2[i];
collSums[i] = observed1[i] + observed2[i];
k[0][i] = observed1[i];
k[1][i] = observed2[i];
}
}
if (countSum1 == 0 || countSum2 == 0) {
throw new ZeroException();
}
final long[] rowSums = {countSum1, countSum2};
final double sum = (double) countSum1 + (double) countSum2;
return 2 * sum * (entropy(rowSums) + entropy(collSums) - entropy(k));
} |
#ifndef XXHR_BEARER_H
#define XXHR_BEARER_H
#include <string>
#include "defines.hpp"
namespace xxhr {
/**
* \brief Some Web APIs requires authenticating via HTTP Basic auth ( *i.e.* base64 encoded user and password authentication).
*
* \copydoc authentication-cpp
*
*/
class Bearer {
public:
//! Token for bearer authentication
Bearer(const std::string& token)
: auth_string_{token} {}
const char* GetAuthString() const noexcept { return auth_string_.data(); }
private:
std::string auth_string_;
};
} // namespace xxhr
#endif
|
import sun.misc.Cleaner;
public class Room implements AutoCloseable {
private final Cleaner cleaner ;
private static class State implements Runnable{
int numJunPiles ;
public State(int numJunPiles) {
this.numJunPiles = numJunPiles;
}
@Override
public void run() {
System.out.println("Cleaner romm");
numJunPiles = 0;
}
}
private final State state;
public Room(int num) {
this.state = new State(num);
cleaner = Cleaner.create(num, state);
}
@Override
public void close() throws Exception {
cleaner.clean();
}
}
|
<reponame>BSFrance/BSFrance<gh_stars>1000+
#ifndef _SYS_FCNTL_H_
#define _SYS_FCNTL_H_
#include <sys/_default_fcntl.h>
/* We want to support O_BINARY for the open syscall.
For example, the Demon debug monitor has a separate
flag value for "rb" vs "r". */
#define _FBINARY 0x10000
#define O_BINARY _FBINARY
#endif /* _SYS_FCNTL_H_ */
|
Calcium-dependent myosin from insect flight muscles.
Calcium regulation of the insect actomyosin ATPase is associated with the thin filaments as in vertebrate muscles, and also with the myosin molecule as in mollusks. This dual regulation is demonstrated using combinations of locust thin filaments with rabbit myosin and locust myosin with rabbit actin; in each case the ATPase of the hybrid actomyosin is calcium dependent. The two regulatory systems are synergistic, the calcium dependency of the locust actomyosin ATPase being at least 10 times that of the hybrid actomyosins described above. Likewise Lethocerus myosin also contains regulatory proteins. The ATPase activity of Lethocerus myosin is labile and is stabilized by the presence of rabbit actin. Tropomyosin activates the ATPase of insect actomyosin and the activation occurs irrespective of whether the myosin is calcium dependent or rendered independent of calcium.
INTRODUCTION
Muscular contraction in all animals appears to be regulated by the concentration of calcium within the myofibrils. The calcium interacts with so-called regulatory proteins which in the vertebrates (Ebashi and Endo, 1968) and in the arthropods (Regenstein, 1972;Bullard et al., 1973;Lehman et al., 1973) are a complex of troponin and tropomyosin occurring on the thin filament. Troponin is a complex molecule itself and one of its components interacts with calcium specifically (Hartshorne and Mueller, 1968;Schaub and Perry, 1969;Greaser and Gergely, 1971). In mollusks, on the other hand, no troponin is found and the regulatory system is linked to the myosin and calcium binds to this molecule (Kendrick-Jones et al., 1970). Apparently in all these cases, the calcium, by combining with the regulatory proteins, modifies the affinity of myosin for actin (Eisenberg and Kielley, 1970;Parker et al., 1970;Lehman and Szent-Gy6rgyi, 1972 a;Szent-Gy6rgyi et al., 1973) and this controls the adenosine triphosphatase (ATPase) activity and the force of contraction (Hellam and Podolsky, 1969;Podolsky and Teichholz, 1970;Julian, 1971;Abbott, 1973). The regulatory proteins act by inhibiting the actin-activated ATPase of myosin when calcium is absent. Remarkably, annelids and certain groups of arthropods contain both thin filament-linked and myosin-linked regulatory systems within the same muscles (Lehman et al., 1973;Lehman and Szent-Gybrgyi, unpublished results).
In most cases this dual nature of regulation has been demonstrated by studying the interaction of isolated thin filaments with rabbit myosin and by use of an indirect ATPase test (Lehman et al., 1973). In this indirect assay we introduce pure rabbit actin to myofibrils or natural actomyosin at low calcium concentration, and determine if the myosin present is blocked or is free to interact with the rabbit actin. The advantage of this "competitive actin-binding assay" is that it tests whether the myosin is calcium dependent or not, without having to extract or purify the myosin. Interpretation of the results of this assay does, however, assume firstly that in all muscles actin and myosin are dissociated in the absence of calcium, and secondly that any actin (or actin complexed with tropomyosin) will activate the ATPase of a particular myosin.
The competitive actin-binding assay indicates that several orders of insects contain a myosin-linked regulatory system in addition to the thin filamentlinked system (Lehman et al., 1973;Lehman and Szent-Gy6rgyi, unpublished results). There is, however, as yet no evidence on purified myosin from insects being calcium dependent. In the present investigation myosin was prepared from locust and Lethocerus, and direct evidence is presented for a myosin-linked regulatory system in these insects.
Preparations
All proteins were prepared at 0-4°C. Rabbit actin free of tropomyosin was prepared by the method of Straub (1942) employing either of two modifications (Kendrick-Jones et al., 1970;Bullard et al., 1973). Pure tropomyosin was prepared by the method of Bailey (1948) with the additional purification procedure of Hartshorne and Mueller (1969) or Lehman and Szent-Gyorgyi (1972 a). Rabbit myosin was prepared according to Szent-Gy6rgyi (1951) with the modification of Mommaerts and Parrish (1951) which further removes actomyosin impurities. Insect myofibrils were prepared and washed as described by Bullard et al., (1973) from the flight muscles of the locust, Schistocerca gregaria, and the waterbug, Lethocerus cordofanus.
LOCUST MYOSIN
Locust myosin was prepared directly from washed myofibrils by a modification of Weber's procedure for dissociating actin and myosin in the presence of ATP (Weber, 1956). The washed myofibrils were suspended in 50 mM KCI, 1 mM MgC12, 5 mM Na + or K + phosphate buffer (pH 7.0). The KCI concentration was then increased to 0.6 M KC1 and ATP was added (final concentration I mM, pH 7.0). The suspension was homogenized with a Potter homogenizer (Potter Instrument Co. Inc., Melville, N.Y.) and immediately sedimented for 10 min at 30,000 g to remove coarse fragments, and then at 200,000 g for 2/1/ h to remove the remaining actin. The supernatant containing myosin and paramyosin was used in these studies. No attempt was made to separate the myosin from paramyosin. Some preparations of the myosin were precipitated by dialyzing against 50 mM KC1, 1 mM MgCl 2 , 5 mM Na + or K + phosphate buffer (pH 7.0); very little locust myosin is precipitated by rapid dilution of the KCI to 30 mM using phosphate buffer (5 mM, pH 6.0-7.0). Preparations of the extracted myosin could be precipitated by dilution, if the myosin first was mixed with rabbit actin. Here rabbit actin and the locust myosin were mixed and then diluted with 20 vol of 50 mM NaCl, 1 mM MgC1 2 , 5 mM phosphate buffer, pH 7.0. The mixture was immediately centrifuged fcr 5 min at 20,000 g and the pellet suspended in the same solution.
LOCUST THIN FILAMENTS Flight muscles were glycerinated for 12-36 h while still attached to the cuticle, in a solution consisting of 100 mM KCI, 5 mM MgC1 2 , 5 mM Na + or K + phosphate buffer, pH 7.0 and 50 % glycerol (vol/vol). The muscles were then dissected and rinsed in 40 mM KC1, 1 mM MgC12, 5 mM Na + or K + phosphate buffer, pH 7.0, and homogenized in a VirTis homogenizer (VirTis Co. Inc., Gardiner, N.Y.) in the same solution. The myofibrils were sedimented for 5 min at 2000 g. The pellets were resuspended in a solution consisting of 100 mM KCI, 5 mM MgC12, 0.1 mM EGTA, 5 mM Na + or K + phosphate buffer, pH 6.0; the resuspension and sedimentation was repeated twice. The washed myofibrils were then resuspended in the same solution containing in addition 5 mM ATP (pH 6.0) and homogenized using a Potter homogenizer. The suspension was sedimented for 10 min at 30,000 g to remove coarse fragments, and for an additional 30 min at 80,000 g to remove thick filaments. The thin filaments were then collected by sedimenting the supernatant at 80,000 g for 2 h and resuspended in 40 mM KC1, 1 mM MgC1 2 , 5 mM Na + or K + phosphate buffer, pH 7.0.
LETHOCERUS MYOSIN
Lethocerus myosin was extracted by the method used for locust. Preparations were also made of Lethocerus myosin and rabbit actin where the myosin was extracted in the presence of rabbit actin and the native thin filaments selectively removed. This was done to protect the ATPase activity of the myosin. In this preparation, washed myofibrils from about 7 g of muscle were sedimented at 2,500 g for 15 min and resuspended in 1 vol of 1.4 M KC1, 2 mM MgCl 2 , 20 mM Kphosphate buffer (pH 7.0) to which was added another volume of 0.7 M KC1, 1 mM MgC1 2 , 10 mM K-phosphate buffer (pH 7.0); ATP was then added (final concentration 1 mM, pH 7.0). Pure rabbit actin was added to give a concentration of about 1 mg/ml in the extract. The mixture was stirred for 6-8 min and centrifuged at 15,000 g for 15 min producing a hard pellet. The supernatant was carefully removed with a Pasteur pipette and filtered through glass wool to remove lipid. The rabbit actin was not removed from the extract because if it is, the myosin is inactivated. The protein concentration of the extract was about 4 mg/ml. Some extracts were precipitated by dialyzing against 40 mM KC1, 1 mM MgC1, 1 mM ATP, 10 mM K-phosphate buffer (pH 7.0). The precipitate was sedimented at 2,500 g for 10 min and dissolved in 0.6 M KC1, 1 mM MgC1 2 , 1 mM ATP, 10 mM K-phosphate buffer (pH 7.0).
Analysis
The Mg-activated ATPase of actomyosin was measured using the pH-stat method as previously described (Szent-Gyorgyi et al., 1971); ATPase assays were performed at 25°C. A creatine phosphate-creatine kinase backup system was not employed. Calcium sensitivity was measured by comparing the ATPase rates in the presence of 0. 1 mM EGTA before and after calcium was added to 0.6 --1.0 X 10 -4 M. The substrate was Mg-ATP and the initial concentrations were 0.7 mM ATP and 1 mM MgC1 2 . Protein samples dissolved in approximately 0.6 M KCI were added to 10 ml of assay solution and the final salt concentration in the assay medium varied between 20 and 40 mM. The only pH buffers present were the ATP and EGTA and 0.05 -0.35 mM phosphate introduced with the sample.
Protein concentrations were measured by the method of Lowry et al., (1951) and by the microbiuret method (Goa, 1953), each standardized by Kjeldahl N-determinations. Sodium dodecyl sulphate (SDS) polyacrylamide gel electrophoresis was performed using Coomassie Blue as a stain according to Weber and Osborn (1969). Stained gels were scanned with a Gilford densitometer attachment (Gilford Instrument Laboratories, Inc., Oberlin, Ohio) on a spectrophotometer.
LOCUST MYOSIN AND RABBIT ACTIN
'The locust myosin is relatively pure as shown by the presence of only trace amounts of actin and tropomyosin on SDS gels (Fig. 1 a) and by the very low Mg-activated ATPase of the extracted myosin (Table I, a) which is stimulated by pure rabbit actin about 20 times (Table I, b). Myosin can be extracted directly from the myofibrils because most of the thin filaments remain firmly attached to the Z disks and are sedimented with them; the remaining thin filaments are removed by high speed centrifugation.
The Mg-ATPase of the locust myosin stimulated by rabbit actin is dependent on calcium concentration (Table I, b). Since the actin does not contain regulatory proteins, the calcium sensitivity can be attributed to the locust preparation. Tropomyosin activates the ATPase rate of the locust actomyosin about three times, and the activation at low and high calcium concentrations is about the same (Table I, c); thus, the degree of the calcium dependence is not altered by tropomyosin. The ATPase activity of locust myosin in the presence of both actin and tropomyosin is lower than the ATPase activity of locust myofibrils which is about 0.3 umol ATP split/min/mg myofibrillar protein at the high calcium concentration.
Locust myosin which has been precipitated and redissolved and then is mixed with rabbit actin, has a normal A'I'Pase activity but it is not calcium dependent. 'I'Thus, this reprecipitation results in a loss of calcium sensitivity.
Since the entire dialyzed sample of precipitated myosin was assayed without The duration of an assay was from 4 to 12 min; the ATP being split did not exceed 60% of that added. I Myosin and actin were mixed in ratios of 3-4/1 (wt/wt). The calcium sensitivity of every myosin preparation was also tested with actin in concentrations two and four times higher than saturating amounts, and was found to be unchanged. § The ratio of actin to tropomyosin was 2/1 (wt/wt). || The ATPase of locust myofibrils in EGTA was high for the first 2 min of any assay and then lowered. The rate in EGTA was measured after 10 min in the EGTA and compared with the initial rate with added calcium. further fractionation, the loss of the calcium dependence is not due to removal of a factor. The ATPase of this preparation is still activated to the same extent by tropomyosin, and thus this property of the myosin is not influenced by precipitation. When the same myosin preparation is not precipitated by itself but precipitated in the presence of rabbit actin and then collected by centrifugation, it retains its calcium-dependent properties (Table II). In this procedure the myosin is coprecipitated with various excess concentrations of actin, insuring that the myosin will bind saturating amounts of actin. Therefore, actin prevents the loss of the calcium dependence during precipitation of the myosin.
SDS gels of such coprecipitates of locust myosin and rabbit actin show large excesses of actin to tropomyosin (Fig. 1 b). This further illustrates that the observed calcium dependence of locust myosin and rabbit actin is not due to contaminating tropomyosin.
Tropomyosin is a necessary constituent for the actin-linked regulatory system in the arthropods as it is in the vertebrates (Regenstein, 1972;Lehman et al., 1973;Bullard et al., 1973). Since the evidence is that locust myosin preparations have a calcium-dependent ATPase in the absence of tropomyosin, this shows that the calcium sensitivity is an inherent property of the myosin.
LOCUST MYOSIN AND LOCUST THIN FILAMENTS
Locust thin filaments confer a calcium dependence to the actomyosin ATPase formed with rabbit myosin These data are results from three different preparations of myosin. Since the percentage of myosin in the pellet was not determined, specific activities are not given. (Table III). Since locust muscle is a tissue from which calcium-sensitive thin filaments and myosin can be prepared, it is of interest to compare their individual and combined contributions to the calcium sensitivity of the muscle. This was examined by mixing locust thin filaments with calcium insensitive rabbit myosin, and locust myosin with calcium-insensitive pure rabbit actin, and comparing the calcium sensitivities of these actomyosins with that of locust thin filaments and locust myosin. The calcium sensitivity of the mixture of locust thin filaments and locust myosin is greater than either of the other two actomyosins by a factor of about 10 (Table III).
Lethocerus Flight Myosin
Extracted Lethocerus myosin has a low ATPase activity that is activated by rabbit actin and tropomyosin (Table IV, b and c). But although this activated ATPase is sensitive to calcium, the specific activity is never greater than 0.05 pumol ATP split/min/mg myosin, a value considerably less than that of myofibrils. The low ATPase is likely to be a result of the isolation of the myosin in 0.6 M KCI, since unfractionated extracts of myofibrils are fully active. Thus, it seems likely that the myosin is inactivatd by removal of the thin filaments. With this idea in mind, myosin was extracted from myofibrils in the presence of rabbit actin and indeed the preparation is more active and is calcium sensitive (Table IV, d and e). The extract contained myosin (heavy and light chains) and actin, and a small amount of tropomyosin, and a protein of subunit molecular weight 55,000 (Figs. 1 d, 2). The actin band is mostly due to the rabbit actin. This is evident from the densitometry tracing; the ratio of actin to tropomyosin in the extract is about 15: 1 (wt/wt) which is considerably higher than the 3: 1 (wt/wt) found with Lethocerus myofibrils.
The ATPase of this actomyosin does not seem to be influenced by the small amounts of intrinsic tropomyosin since addition of rabbit tropomyosin activates the ATPase rate (Table IV, e) to the same extent as that obtained previouslywith Lethocerus myosin free of tropomyosin (Bullard et al., 1973). Since this actomyosin has a calcium-dependent ATPase and most of the actin is uncomplexed with tropomyosin, the calcium sensitivity therefore is very likely to be a property of the myosin, for the same reasons discussed in the case of the locust.
The calcium dependence of Lethocerus myosin is likewise lost by precipitation of the preparation; this occurs in the presence of rabbit actin. The precipitation also results in the specific ATPase activities being increased from three to four times (Table IV, f and g). § Specific activities calculated assuming that the difference between the total protein concentration of the extract and the rabbit actin was entirely Lethocerus myosin, i.e. 1 mg/ml actin, 3 mg/ ml myosin. Densitometry of 7.5% SDS gels of extracts of Lethocerus myosin with rabbit actin, show that the ratio of total protein to actin is about 4:1. The real specific activities are probably slightly higher since other proteins in the extract such as paramyosin have been included in calculating the myosin fraction. Myosin preparations extracted with rabbit actin had saturating amounts of actin. The ATPase activity and calcium sensitivity of the myosin are not significantly altered by actin concentrations up to four times that in the extract.
DISCUSSION
It was previously shown that, like the vertebrates, the insects contain a thin filament-linked regulatory system (Maruyama et al., 1968;Meinrenken, 1969;Lehman and Szent-Gy6rgyi, 1972 b;Bullard et al., 1973). However, no attempts were made to look for a myosin-linked system until the competitive actin-binding test was developed, and it was then found that insects, like annelids, contain a dual regulatory system (Lehman et al., 1973). In the present study we have shown directly that myosin from insects can confer calcium sensitivity to an actomyosin ATPase. Although our myosin preparations contain tropomyosin contamination, tropomyosin is not present in sufficient amounts to be considered part of a relaxing protein system. The reason for the loss in calcium sensitivity after insect myosin is precipitated is not known. Whereas with scallop myosin, removal of a myosin light LC LC TM A X P FIGURE 2. Densitometer tracing of the SDS gel shown in Fig. 1 d, illustrating the small quantity tropomyosin relative to actin. The myosin heavy chain is off scale on the tracing.
chain was shown to be the cause (Szent-Gy6rgyi et al., 1973); there is, however, no obvious loss of light chain components after precipitation of locust myosin and this agrees with results reported previously for myosins of other insects (Bullard et al., 1973). Although we cannot explain why insect myosin loses its calcium-dependent properties after precipitation, or how actin protects the myosin, our results do explain why in a previous study (Bullard et al., 1973), where only precipitated myosin was analyzed, calcium sensitivity was not detected. An advantage of having both the thin filament and myosin-linked systems in a single muscle is obvious. Since both systems probably act by independent mechanisms (Lehman et al., 1973), the calcium sensitivity of the dual system should be a function of the product of the individual sensitivities and thus increased. If the interaction behaved as a monomer-monomer reaction, the increased calcium sensitivity would be expected to be the product of the individual calcium sensitivities. The increased sensitivity is in fact even greater than this. If a double system is a more powerful way to control muscular contraction, then it is unclear why certain groups evolved single systems, and if in these systems there are further adaptations.
Tropomyosin has been found to activate the ATPase of Limulus (Lehman and Szent-Gy6rgyi, 1972 a) and all insect muscles investigated (Bullard et al., 1973) but this property is not a general feature of arthropods since no crusta-56x cean investigated demonstrates the effect (Lehman and Szent-Gy6rgyi, unpublished results;Regenstein, 1972). The most likely explanation for the activation is that tropomyosin provides a better fit for particular myosins on actin (Lehman and Szent-Gy6rgyi, 1972 a).
Preparations of relaxing proteins have been found to activate the actomyosin ATPase of vertebrate muscles (Katz, 1964;Schaub et al., 1967;Hartshorne and Mueller, 1968;Greaser and Gergely, 1971;Spudich and Watt, 1971). This has never been investigated in detail, and it is not understood which component is responsible for the activation. At low ATP concentrations, it has been observed ( Shigekawa and Tonomura, 1972;Bremel et al., 1973) that the ATPase of actomyosin or an actin-subfragment-l system is activated by tropomyosin alone. Bremel et al. (1973) suggest that tropomyosin mediates a cooperative change on the actin filament, resulting in a greater reactivity of the actin for myosin. The activation by tropomyosin found in Limulus and the insects may involve a similar type of cooperativity occurring at higher ATP concentration. Further research should establish if activation by tropomyosin is restricted only to certain species, and what its function in the regulaion of muscular contraction is.
Received for publication 14 August 1973. |
def crypto_bloom_filter(record: Sequence[Text],
comparators: List[AbstractComparison],
schema: Schema,
keys: Sequence[Sequence[bytes]],
) -> Tuple[bitarray, Text, int]:
hash_l = schema.l * 2 ** schema.xor_folds
bloomfilter = bitarray(hash_l)
bloomfilter.setall(False)
for (entry, comparator, field, key) \
in zip(record, comparators, schema.fields, keys):
fhp = field.hashing_properties
if fhp:
ngrams = list(comparator.tokenize(field.format_value(entry)))
hash_function = hashing_function_from_properties(fhp)
if ngrams:
bloomfilter |= hash_function(ngrams, key,
fhp.strategy.bits_per_token(len(ngrams)),
hash_l, fhp.encoding)
bloomfilter = fold_xor(bloomfilter, schema.xor_folds)
return bloomfilter, record[0], bloomfilter.count() |
// Concord
//
// Copyright (c) 2018 VMware, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
//
// This product is licensed to you under the Apache 2.0 license (the "License").
// You may not use this product except in compliance with the Apache 2.0 License.
//
// This product may include a number of subcomponents with separate copyright
// notices and license terms. Your use of these subcomponents is subject to the
// terms and conditions of the subcomponent's license, as noted in the
// LICENSE file.
#include "threshsign/Configuration.h"
#include "threshsign/VectorOfShares.h"
#include "XAssert.h"
#include "Logger.hpp"
#include <cstring>
using std::endl;
void VectorOfShares::add(ShareID e) {
assertGreaterThanOrEqual(e, 1);
assertLessThanOrEqual(e, MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES);
size_t pos = static_cast<size_t>(e - 1);
if (false == data[pos]) {
data[pos] = true;
size++;
}
}
void VectorOfShares::remove(ShareID e) {
assertGreaterThanOrEqual(e, 1);
assertLessThanOrEqual(e, MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES);
size_t pos = static_cast<size_t>(e - 1);
if (true == data[pos]) {
data[pos] = false;
size--;
}
}
bool VectorOfShares::contains(ShareID e) const {
size_t pos = static_cast<size_t>(e - 1);
return data[pos];
}
bool VectorOfShares::isEnd(ShareID e) const {
assertStrictlyGreaterThan(e, 0);
// Shares are numbered from 1 to MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES and the data bitvector always has size MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES
// Thus, when e > MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES, we've reached the end.
// WARNING: Due to C++'s "features", it's important to cast the unsigned type returned by data.size() to a signed type
// T here!
return e > static_cast<ShareID>(data.size());
}
ShareID VectorOfShares::next(ShareID current) const {
assertGreaterThanOrEqual(current, 0);
ShareID size = static_cast<ShareID>(data.size());
// Have we reached the end?
if (current + 1 > size) return size + 1;
assertStrictlyLessThan(current, MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES);
for (size_t i = static_cast<size_t>(current); i < data.size(); i++) {
if (data[i]) return static_cast<ShareID>(i + 1);
}
return size + 1;
}
ShareID VectorOfShares::skip(ShareID current, int count) const {
assertStrictlyPositive(count);
for (int i = 0; i < count; i++) {
current = next(current);
}
return current;
}
ShareID VectorOfShares::findFirstGap() const {
for (size_t i = 0; i < data.size(); i++) {
if (data[i] == false) {
return static_cast<ShareID>(i + 1);
}
}
// If all bits are set return size() + 1
return static_cast<ShareID>(data.size()) + 1;
}
ShareID VectorOfShares::ith(int i) const {
size_t count = 0;
// If count is too high
if (count > data.size()) return static_cast<ShareID>(data.size()) + 1;
for (ShareID c = first(); isEnd(c) == false; c = next(c)) {
count++;
if (static_cast<size_t>(i) == count) return c;
}
// Should never reach this
assertTrue(false);
return static_cast<ShareID>(data.size()) + 1;
}
ShareID VectorOfShares::last() const {
size_t size = data.size();
for (size_t i = 0; i < size; i++) {
size_t j = size - 1 - i;
if (data[j] == true) {
return static_cast<ShareID>(j + 1);
}
}
// If all bits are false return size() + 1
return static_cast<ShareID>(size) + 1;
}
void VectorOfShares::randomSubset(VectorOfShares& signers, int numSigners, int reqSigners) {
assertLessThanOrEqual(reqSigners, numSigners);
// NOTE: Does not need cryptographically secure RNG
while (signers.count() < reqSigners) {
ShareID i = static_cast<ShareID>(rand() % numSigners);
i = i + 1; // WARNING: players need to be indexed from 1 to N, inclusively!
signers.add(i);
}
}
int VectorOfShares::getByteCount() {
if (MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES % 8 == 0)
return MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES / 8;
else
return (MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES / 8) + 1;
}
void VectorOfShares::toBytes(unsigned char* buf, int capacity) const {
int byteCount = getByteCount();
if (byteCount > capacity) {
throw std::runtime_error("Need more buffer space to serialize VectorOfShares");
}
memset(buf, 0, static_cast<size_t>(byteCount));
for (ShareID id1 = first(); isEnd(id1) == false; id1 = next(id1)) {
int id0 = id1 - 1; // switch to 0-based indices
int byteOffset = id0 / 8;
int bit = id0 % 8;
int mask = 1 << bit;
// LOG_TRACE(THRESHSIGN_LOG, "Serializing ID " << id1 << " at byte " << byteOffset << " and bit " << bit << " with
// mask " << mask );
*(buf + byteOffset) = static_cast<unsigned char>(*(buf + byteOffset) | mask);
}
}
void VectorOfShares::fromBytes(const unsigned char* buf, int len) {
clear(); // clear all bits
int byteCount = getByteCount();
if (byteCount > len) {
LOG_WARN(
THRESHSIGN_LOG,
"Deserializing VectorOfShares of smaller size than MAX_NUM_OF_SHARES IDs (i.e., " << byteCount << " bytes)");
}
for (int b = 0; b < len; b++) {
unsigned char byte = *(buf + b);
int bitMask = 1;
for (int c = 0; c < 8; c++) {
if (byte & bitMask) {
int id1 = b * 8 + (c + 1);
// LOG_TRACE(THRESHSIGN_LOG, "bitMask = " << bitMask << ", deserialized ID " << id1 << " from byte " <<
// (int)byte);
add(id1);
}
bitMask <<= 1;
}
}
}
std::ostream& operator<<(std::ostream& out, const VectorOfShares& v) {
out << "[";
if (v.count() > 0) {
for (ShareID i = v.first(); v.isEnd(v.next(i)) == false; i = v.next(i)) {
out << i << ", ";
}
out << v.last();
}
out << "]";
return out;
}
|
#include <iostream>
#include <list>
#include <string>
using namespace std;
class CPerson;
class CStudent;
class CTeacher;
class CVisitor;
class CPrinter;
//element to be visited
class CPerson //pure virtual class
{
protected:
string name;
int gender;
CPerson() {}
public:
virtual void Accept(CVisitor &) //= 0;
{
}
public:
void SetName(const string &Name)
{
name = Name;
}
string GetName() const
{
return name;
}
void SetGender(const int &Gender)
{
gender = Gender;
}
int GetGender() const
{
return gender;
}
};
//visitor
class CVisitor
{
public:
virtual void Visit(CStudent &) = 0;
virtual void Visit(CTeacher &) = 0;
};
//concrete element
class CStudent : public CPerson
{
private:
int grade; //grade
public:
CStudent(string Name, int Gender, int Grade)
{
name = Name;
gender = Gender;
grade = Grade;
}
public:
virtual void Accept(CVisitor &printer) //virtual function
{
printer.Visit(*this);
}
void SetGrade(int Grade)
{
grade = Grade;
}
int GetGrade() const
{
return grade;
}
};
//concrete element
class CTeacher : public CPerson
{
private:
int service_time; //work year
public:
CTeacher(string Name, int Grade, int ServiceTime)
{
name = Name;
gender = Grade;
service_time = ServiceTime;
}
public:
virtual void Accept(CVisitor &printer)
{
printer.Visit(*this);
}
void SetServiceTime(int ServiceTime)
{
service_time = ServiceTime;
}
int GetServiceTime() const
{
return service_time;
}
};
//concrete visitor
//here, this class print all elements, according to the requirements.
//it is a method to create the visitor without modifing the one to be visited.
class CPrinter : public CVisitor
{
public:
void Visit(CStudent &s)
{
cout << "student:" << endl;
cout << "\t Name:" << s.GetName() << endl;
if (s.GetGender() == 0)
cout << "\t Gender:"
<< "female" << endl;
else
cout << "\t Gender:"
<< "male" << endl;
cout << "\t Grade:" << s.GetGrade() << endl;
}
void Visit(CTeacher &t)
{
cout << "Teacher:" << endl;
cout << "\t Name:" << t.GetName() << endl;
if (t.GetGender() == 0)
cout << "\t Gender:"
<< "female" << endl;
else
cout << "\t Gender:"
<< "male" << endl;
cout << "\t Service Time:" << t.GetServiceTime() << endl;
}
};
//objection, Organization is a group, contains several teacher and student
class Organization
{
private:
typedef list<CPerson *> CMemberList;
CMemberList member_list;
public:
void Add(CPerson *person) //add person
{
//notify: here person must be new allocated.
member_list.push_back(person);
}
void PrintMembers(CPrinter &printer) //print all elements
{
CMemberList::iterator itr = member_list.begin();
for (; itr != member_list.end(); ++itr)
{
(*itr)->Accept(printer);
}
}
~Organization()
{
//release the allocation.
CMemberList::iterator itr = member_list.begin();
for (; itr != member_list.end(); ++itr)
{
delete *itr;
}
}
};
int main()
{
Organization Planting; //planting organization
Planting.Add(new CTeacher("Johnny", 1, 10));
Planting.Add(new CStudent("Catherine", 0, 1));
Planting.Add(new CStudent("peter", 1, 2));
CPrinter printer; //visitor
Planting.PrintMembers(printer);
return 0;
} |
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