Jump to new as of December 14, 1999
Chapter 1 Posted on Saturday, 27 November 1999
"....If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you."
Fitzwilliam Darcy signed his name to the long missive and then perused it carefully, as was his usual manner, to guard against any possible errors of form or substance. He then sealed it in preparation for delivery to Miss Bennet in the morning. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the only woman in the world who would have refused him, and the only woman in the world whom he could ever love. For the hundredth time during that sleepless night, her many words of reproof rang in his ears.
Darcy was still angered by the lady's impertinence, no matter how much he considered himself in love. That such a girl, so wholly without connections and fortune, should dare to instruct him in manners of character and propriety? Why, it was obvious that she had not even the discernment to see through a man like Wickham! Darcy ignored the voice deep within that attempted to remind him that even his own father had been deceived by George Wickham, and determined finally that such a silly girl was not worth his lengthy explanation. With only a small pang of regret, he tore the letter in half and tossed it into the fire, then lay down to try for at least a few hours of sleep.
Chapter 2 Posted on Monday, 29 November 1999
Elizabeth woke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of anything else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she turned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpike-road. The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one of the gates into the ground.
Elizabeth's opinion of Mr. Darcy had not been at all altered by his declaration; on the contrary, the manner of his offer of marriage had only increased the strength of her conviction that he was, in whole, a despicable man. She did wonder very much that he had fallen in love with her; but this amazement did not lead her to consider that an error in judgment of one aspect of a person's nature might lend itself to a re-examining of the individual in his entirety. So Miss Bennet's reflections on Mr. Darcy's nature continued in the vein of indignation at his perverse inclination to pursue her while cruelly dividing his friend from her sister, and his apparent delight in destroying the fortunes of Mr. Wickham.
After wandering along the lane for an hour, giving way to every variety of thought implicating Mr. Darcy in the worst of villainy, and reconciling herself to the certainty that Mr. Bingley was never to come back to Jane, she recollected her long absence, and made her length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit for conversation.
She was greeted by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had come to take his leave, and had been waiting for almost the length of her absence. He explained to her that his cousin had been able only to stay for a few minutes, but conveyed his regards. Elizabeth was unable to enjoy the Colonel's company as much as usual; knowing that he could not be an object, she was relieved when he also made his farewells.
Posted on Tuesday, 14 December 1999
Elizabeth spent much time recalling Mr. Darcy's proposal, and her feelings about the scene were at times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address, she was still full of indignation; but when she considered how thoroughly she had condemned and upbraided him, she began to feel very pleased with herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of amusement. His attachment excited a sense of flattery, but his general character only disgust. Under no circumstances could she repent her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again.
Anxiety on Jane's behalf was another prevailing concern; and the knowledge that Mr. Darcy had borne the primary responsibility for Jane's loss raised Bingley at least a little in Elizabeth's opinion. His affection was proved to have been sincere, his only fault the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had been deprived, by the insufferable pride of a man so wholly unconnected to any of them!
When to these recollections was added Mr. Darcy's boastful admissions of his treatment of Wickham, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to make it almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.
Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent there; and her ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.
When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year; and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to both.
Mr. Collins' monologue to Elizabeth in ch. 38, yadda-yadda-yadda.... Maria and Elizabeth leave Kent and journey to Mr. Gardiner's house.
It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out together from Gracechurch Street for the town of --------, in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet's carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman's punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room upstairs. These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and dressing a salad and cucumber.
After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming "Is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?"
"And we mean to treat you all," added Lydia; "but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there." Then, showing her purchases -- "Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think it is pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any better."
And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect unconcern, "Oh! but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what one wears this summer, after the -------shire have left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight."
"Are they indeed?" cried Elizabeth, trying to hide her disappointment.
"They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to go too of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall have!"
"Yes," thought Elizabeth, "that would be a delightful scheme indeed. Just the thing for Jane. Good Heaven! Brighton, a whole campful of soldiers, and the whirlwind of activity should at least distract her mind from Bingley, if not rid her heart of him."
"Now I have got some news for you," said Lydia, as they sat down at table. "What do you think? It is excellent news -- capital news -- and about a certain person that we all like!"
Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told he need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said:
"Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for my news; it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is not it? There is no danger of Wickham's marrying Mary King. There's for you! She is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe."
"And Mary King is safe!" added Elizabeth; "safe from a connection imprudent as to fortune," but the amusement in her expression belied her words' apparent sympathy for Miss King.