Dear Mr. Darcy Part 11

Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth.

It seems folly to me now, but when I first found out she was here, I thought it would be a useful test of my resolve. I flattered myself that I was no longer in any danger from her, but the more I see of her, the more I find it impossible to resist her. I find myself drawn to her as if to a magnet whenever she dines with us; and when she does not cross my path by accident, I walk in the park, following her favourite routes in the hope of seeing her. If she is not to be met with in the park, my feet turn of their own accord towards the parsonage, where I know I will find her. The other day I went in, even though I knew her friend to be away from home, and almost found myself proposing to her.

It is madness! The inferiority of her family, who are small country gentry; the wild behaviour of her younger sisters, who spend their time flirting with the officers stationed nearby their home; the vulgarity of her mother; the irresponsible nature of her father; the family's lack of connections or fortune; all of these things make it impossible. It would degrade me to marry her. I would be laughed at by all my friends, jeered at by my enemies and pitied by all. I could never possibly marry her. And yet-and yet I cannot keep away from her. The lightness of her spirits, her humour, her arch smile, her teasing, her eyes-oh! Philip, her eyes! which sparkle when she teases me and show she knows her power over me-all these things drive me to distraction.

I can tell no one but you. You know my character, you know how proud and disdainful I am, but against my better judgement I have been enraptured by her. It is out of the question for me to marry her; out of the question to make her my mistress.

I would leave if I could, but if I go now it will look particular and that is something I very much want to avoid. I do not know what to do.

Your beleaguered cousin, Darcy Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy London, April 21 Darcy, leave at once. Make some excuse and go today, this minute, never mind if it looks particular, it will soon be forgotten. Do not linger another moment. This kind of fever is virulent and the only thing that can control it is a prolonged absence from its source. Have your valet pack your things and meet me in London straightaway. If you stay, you will regret it.

PD.

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy Rosings Park, Kent, April 22 Philip, your letter arrived too late. I have proposed. I never meant to. I was in a ferment of pa.s.sion, I did not know what I was doing. I was looking forward to seeing her, for she was engaged to drink tea with my aunt, and I was surprised and humiliated at the bitterness of my disappointment when she did not attend. She had a headache, her friend said. I wondered what could have occasioned it; I wondered how bad it was; I wondered if she needed a physician. I could not ask without it causing interest and so I said nothing, but excusing myself on account of a letter which I said needed an urgent reply, I bent my steps to the parsonage and before I knew what I was doing I was inside.

I do not know what possessed me, but possessed I was. I enquired after her health in a hurried manner and she replied coldly, not pleased to see me. Her manner only inflamed me more. I sat down in an effort to collect myself but my pa.s.sions rose within me like a volcano and I believe it would have killed me to keep them in. They erupted from me as I told her that in vain had I struggled, but that I ardently loved and admired her.

Once started, I could not stop. I poured out my feelings: my horror at the behaviour of her family, the inferiority of her station in life, and the degradation it would be for me to marry her; but that, despite all this, I could not root out my feelings, that they were impossible to conquer, and I expressed my hope that she would accept my hand in marriage.

I did not doubt she would accept me and I was resentful even as I waited for her answer-resentful because she had brought me to this pa.s.s, resentful that she had taken control of my thoughts and feelings and reduced me to a state of helplessness-but that was nothing compared with the feelings I had when she rejected me. Can you credit it? I confess that I cannot. It is incredible to me. I am still smarting with the humiliation of it. To be rejected by anyone-I, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley-is inconceivable. And yet to be rejected by Elizabeth Bennet, who is no one from nowhere, and who should have been honoured I even noticed her, let alone proposed to her? The thing is incredible. And all because I listed the scruples that had long kept me from forming any previous proposal. Had I flattered her into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination, by reason, by reflection, by everything, then I am convinced she would have accepted me, whatever she might say. But disguise is my abhorrence and I made no scruple of my struggles. And how did she repay this honesty? With contempt, telling me that she had never sought my good opinion, never wanted it and had no difficulty, in short, of throwing my proposal back in my face.

It has done one thing for me, however. It has cured me of my feelings for her. I am only now ashamed of what those feelings have been. I pray you will never mention this to anyone, not even to me. I have only to answer the remarks she threw at me in her refusal, and then I have done with her. An encounter would not be wise for either of us, but a letter-yes, a letter will show her how wrong she has been.

I am looking forward to seeing you again. Tell me you will be in London for the Season. I myself will be there. I cannot leave Rosings soon enough. I am now ashamed of myself for ever having thought well of her, for being attracted to her and-above all-for proposing to her. This unfortunate affair is over. Once I have placed the letter into her hands, I hope I never see Elizabeth Bennet again.

Darcy Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, April 22 I scarcely know where to begin...I cannot believe...and yet, did not Charlotte always say...But how was I to know, how to think she was right? Of all men, Mr Darcy! And yet there is no doubting it now. Oh! That man! How right my mother was to call him so! To come here and...but I must tell you all.

You know that Mr Darcy is here. He has visited us constantly and I never knew why. I laughed at Charlotte when she said he came for me, for his attentions were certainly not loverlike; indeed, when he called here one day and found me alone, he scarcely opened his mouth. But now...

I was unwell, a headache-caused by Mr Darcy, for I had discovered he played a role in separating Bingley from Jane; Colonel Fitzwilliam told me so-and so I stayed at the parsonage when Charlotte, Maria and Mr Collins went to Rosings for tea. I read Jane's letters again, mourning her lack of cheerfulness and the knowledge that Mr Darcy was the cause, when the doorbell rang. Thinking it might be Colonel Fitzwilliam come to ask after me, I put the letters aside, but what was my astonishment when Mr Darcy walked in!

You will readily imagine my feelings: he was the last man in the world I wanted to see. I could not understand what he was about. He asked after my health, but seemed to be labouring under some heavy burden, and then he burst out, saying that he admired me and loved me! I have never been so astonished in all my life. I thought he had run mad, or else had taken too much wine. But it soon became apparent that he was perfectly sane and sober, for he strode around the room and told me that I was beneath him, that my family were in every way reprehensible, that it would be an insult to his own relations, but that he was determined to marry me!

My moment of feeling flattered-for who could be insensible to the compliment of a proposal from such a man?-swiftly pa.s.sed, to be replaced by anger, mortification and contempt, and I roundly rejected him. He started; he had not expected it. He thought I would fall at his feet and thank him for his condescension, which shows how little he knows me! And then he asked why he was rejected with so little civility! When he had spent ten minutes roundly abusing my parents, my sisters, my station in life and his own wayward feelings!

You may be sure I answered him in kind, asking him why he had couched his proposal in such insulting terms. But I could not wait for his answer, for my feelings against him were such that they had to be given voice. I told him that I could never marry a man who had ruined my sister's happiness, and he changed colour, which removed every last shred of doubt in my mind that he was indeed the person responsible. He did not apologise, as might have been expected, but said only that he had been kinder to Bingley than to himself. This civil reflection did not do anything to lessen my anger, as you may imagine, and I set about him for his cruel and inhuman treatment of George Wickham. And what was his reaction? Shame for his misdeeds? Not a bit of it! He waved them aside and declared that I had only rejected him because he had not flattered me enough!

Why do men find it so hard to understand that we will not fall at their feet if they ask us to marry them? I am beginning to think that they are all either too stupid or too arrogant to see that we are not all eager to spend the rest of our lives with cruelty or pride; that we might draw back from trusting our future happiness to a man who has shown no interest in our feelings, but only in his own needs and desires.

I dare tell no one else of this proposal. I would tell Jane-how I miss her!-but I would then have to reveal that Mr Darcy interfered in her affairs, and I do not want to reopen that wound. I cannot tell any other member of my family. Can you imagine what Mama would say if she knew? And what she would say if she knew that I had refused him? She would not speak to me when I refused Mr Collins, and what is Mr Collins to Mr Darcy? She would no doubt banish me from the country if she knew I had denied her the right of visiting Pemberley and the opportunity to talk of it constantly to Lady Lucas!

Neither can I tell Charlotte, for she would certainly counsel me to marry him. She has been advising me to encourage him since almost the first moment I laid eyes on him, and I do not want to hear any arguments in his favour. I am still boiling with anger.

I am not even certain enough of my aunt to confide in her, for she would ask me if I refused Mr Darcy on account of Mr Wickham, and I would not know how to reply; for although I would have refused Mr Darcy even if I had never met Mr Wickham, I cannot deny that it gave added anger to my rejection of him.

Thank goodness I have you, Susan.

You must promise to tell no one of this. I hereby swear you to secrecy.

How I am longing to see you again. Is there any chance of you coming to Meryton, even for a few days? For I am afraid there is no chance at all of me coming to Bath.

And now I must go and bathe my face, for I was so angry that, once Mr Darcy left, I sat down and cried for half an hour. I can scarcely believe it even now, that he should have proposed to me; that he should have been in love with me for months without my knowing it; that he should wish to marry me, despite all his objections to the match. In another man it would have been gratifying indeed. But his pride! His abominable pride, his shameless avowal of the part he played in Jane's unhappiness and the unfeeling manner in which he mentioned Mr Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he did not even attempt to deny! No, I do not regret my decision, quite the reverse.

But already I hear the sound of the carriage. I am not equal to facing Charlotte. She is sure to tell that something is wrong and I cannot face her like this, with my face streaked and my eyes no doubt swollen.

Write to me soon. Tell me how you go on in Bath, where life is normal and no impossible men seek to disturb you.

For now, adieu, Lizzy Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Elizabeth Bennet Bath, April 23 How cruel, Lizzy, to confide in me and then swear me to secrecy, for with such a secret I could amaze the whole of Bath! Mr Darcy in love with my Lizzy! Though it does not surprise me, for you know I love you and so how can I be amazed when you are loved by someone else? It shows that, if nothing else, Mr Darcy has some sense, even if he has no manners and is evidently in need of some lessons in humility.

How I longed to say something when your letter arrived, for several ladies arrived a few moments later as they paid a morning call. Miss Violet Cranmore launched into her favourite topic at once-well, almost her favourite topic, for her favourite topic is herself-but her second favourite topic, then, of Caroline Bingley, and Caroline's attempts to win Mr Darcy. They were at the seminary together and hate each other, it is plain to see.

'Caroline's efforts are pitiful,' said Violet. 'She keeps writing to me and telling me how important she is to him, but everyone knows Mr Darcy will never marry beneath him. He is as good as betrothed to Miss Anne de Bourgh.'

I wanted to smile sweetly and say that, actually, Mr Darcy had no intention of marrying Miss de Bourgh; that he was in love with my friend and that he had just proposed marriage to her.

Oh, how I wish you had accepted! Not really, of course, I could not bear to see you marry a man you do not love. But if you could have loved him, what fun it would have been to see her face, and the face of her superior mama, for they both of them look down on me. They are annoyed that I have caught Mr Wainwright, who has a handsome fortune, far larger than that of Violet's intended.

Have you told Charlotte yet? Do you think you ever will? And what about Jane? She will want to know, even if it hurts her to begin with, I am sure of it. And anyway, there is no need to tell her that Mr Darcy interfered in her own life, only that he proposed to you. When will you be seeing her again? It is so exciting. And that is always the way of things; either there is nothing to tell, but one has perfect liberty to tell it, or something so momentous it would rock everyone, but one is unable to breathe a word!

Write to me soon, dearest, you know you can tell me anything, and I promise faithfully to keep your confidence, whatever it costs me!

Your loving friend, Susan Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, April 23 My dearest Susan, I must unburden myself again, and again I must swear you to secrecy, for I have had such a letter...When I think of it, I...But let me collect myself. Charlotte is busy about her household affairs and Maria is helping her, Mr Collins is out in the garden and I am alone in the house. Only now am I able to drag myself out of my thoughts, and needing someone to turn to, someone to tell...

By now you will have had my previous letter, about Mr Darcy's proposal. I was angry with him, disgusted with his behaviour, but now...

I do not know what to think. He has written me a letter, and such a letter...I expected nothing from him, I thought he would avoid me, since I knew that he intended to return to London very soon, but instead, this morning as I walked, I found him waiting for me. I tried to avoid him but he detained me by stepping forward and calling my name. He held out a letter, which I instinctively took, and said haughtily that he had been walking in the grove for some time in the hope of meeting me, and then asked me to have the goodness to read the letter.

With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, I opened it, and to my increasing sense of wonder I saw an envelope containing two sheets of paper, written quite through in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise full. I did not know what he could have to say to me, let alone what he could have to say which would take so much saying, but I could not contain my curiosity.

I cannot begin to tell you my feelings as I read everything contained therein; indeed, it is only now, several hours later, that I can begin to sort them out. Everything was presented to me with such a different slant that I find myself, against my will, beginning to see things differently; or, at least, to acknowledge that there might be a different interpretation to be put upon things.

The letter started arrogantly enough, all pride and insolence, saying that I had accused him of two offences in my rejection of him. He claimed that, although he knew his friend was becoming increasingly attached to Jane, he convinced himself by watching her that her feelings were not similarly touched. I was at first outraged by this, until I remembered Charlotte saying that Jane ought to show what she felt if she wanted to attach Mr Bingley. Susan, reluctant though I am to do it, I find I have to admit that Jane's feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her manner not often a.s.sociated with great sensibility.

His comments on my family, though mortifying, I could not help admitting had some justice. You left Meryton before the militia arrived and so you do not know how my sisters have been throwing themselves at the officers' heads, whilst Mama and Papa did nothing to stop them.

But it is in his details of his dealings with Mr Wickham that he chiefly sought to exonerate himself. At first I did not believe it, for his account of events differed so strongly from Mr Wickham's account, but he referred me to his cousin if I doubted him, and this helped convince me that he was not misleading me. Then, too, when I was forced to think about Mr Wickham's behaviour, I had, in the end, to think it was not as spotless as it first appeared.

I cannot tell you all, but I can say this: that Mr Darcy claims his father left the living to Mr Wickham provisionally only, and that, as Mr Wickham did not want it, Mr Darcy gave him the sum of three thousand pounds instead.

At first I doubted, but as I thought back over my acquaintance with Mr Wickham it struck me as odd that he had confided so much at our first meeting, which was surely wrong of him, and that he had not noised his grievances in public until Mr Darcy had left the neighbourhood and was therefore no longer in a position to defend himself.

And now I am left feeling perplexed and wounded, scarcely knowing what to think, who to believe. To begin with, I believed resolutely in Mr Wickham, but Mr Darcy's story had the ring of truth and, together with the fact that he referred me to his cousin-who is an honest and upright man-I find myself believing Mr Darcy.

He was sent to plague me, I am sure of it, first of all with his haughtiness, then with his unwanted attentions, and now with his unsettling news about my favourite. He has brought me nothing but torment. And yet I cannot help thinking that he is a better man than I had supposed and, although undoubtedly proud, much maligned.

How much easier would it have been if Mr Darcy had continued to be a villain, and Mr Wickham a saint. But as Mr Wickham transferred his affections from me as soon as Miss King inherited a sizeable dowry, I am faced with the fact that he was never quite the saint I believed him.

My one consolation is that Mr Darcy is leaving the neighbourhood tomorrow, and that I will not be here much longer, either. How I long to see Jane and the familiar walls of home; how I long to talk with Papa and have everything back to normal.

Your dear friend, Lizzy Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Elizabeth Bennet Bath, April 24 Lizzy, you are trying me hard! First I must mention nothing of your proposal, and now I can mention nothing about Mr Wickham's relations with Mr Darcy. I wish I were coming to Meryton again, but there is no chance of it, and after all I am glad, for I do not think I could keep so many secrets if I were to find myself at home again.

You say I know nothing of your sisters' goings-on, but do not forget that Ellie writes to Lydia and Kitty-indeed a letter from Kitty arrived this morning-and I have seen enough of their correspondence to know how silly they are, but this does not excuse Mr Darcy for saying so. It is up to him, as your lover, to make light of your family's failings, not to make much of them. Your father and mother are not the most sensible parents, it is true, but at least your father has not gambled away your inheritance and forced you to leave your home. I am not surprised you miss him. My own papa, alas, is no better: every time we think he is improving he relapses, and goes from bad to worse.

I eagerly await your next letter. I fully expect to find that the Archbishop of Canterbury has proposed to you when next you write!

Your loving friend, Susan Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, April 24 La! Ellie, what do you think? The officers are leaving Meryton, they are to be gone in a month, and what shall we do without them? They are going to be encamped near Brighton. How I wish I could go with them, for it will be deadly dull here without them. I have said so time and time again, and Mama agrees with me and says we should all go to Brighton. It would be a delicious scheme, and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mama would like to go too of all things, but Papa says he will not stir from Longbourn, and we may not go without him. He says Kitty and I are the silliest girls in the country, but I do not think we are as silly as Mary, who has made so many books of extracts her bedroom is full and now she wants a shelf in the library for them. Papa says she may not have one and Mama tells her to wear her hair differently and Mary preaches in return, so that I am sick of the sound of her. If only we could go to Brighton! Papa says he cannot wait for Jane and Lizzy to return, so that he can have some sensible conversation, but what can they have to talk of? Jane has been in London and Lizzy has been in Kent and there are not any officers in either place.

Your greatest friend in all the world, Lydia Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, April 25 Dear Susan, I know I try you hard, but I shall endeavour not to do so in future. The Archbishop has not proposed and so that is one less secret for you to keep! The gentlemen-Mr Darcy and his cousin-have now left Rosings, and I have only Lady Catherine to contend with.

We dined with her yesterday evening and I could not help thinking that, if I had answered Mr Darcy differently, I might by this time have been presented to her as her future niece. What would she have said? How would she have behaved? I amused myself with these questions as an antidote to an otherwise dull evening.

Lady Catherine mourned the absence of the gentlemen, and Mr Collins alleviated her suffering with some clumsy compliments.

Then she turned her attention to me and thinking, quite wrongly, that I was quiet because I did not like to leave, she said that I must write to my mother to beg that I may stay a little longer. Nothing could be further from my wishes, for I long to be at home. She would not accept it, however, but went on saying that my mother could certainly spare me for a fortnight or so. She dismissed the idea that my father was missing me and added, in her goodness, that she could take either Maria or myself as far as London in early June, though what the other one was supposed to do, I do not know-run behind, I suspect! Though she did say, condescendingly, that as we were neither of us large, if the weather should happen to be cool, she did not mind taking us both.

Surprisingly enough, I said we must abide by the original plan.

How tired I am of Rosings: Lady Catherine with her officious interference; Mr Collins with his obsequiousness and stupidity; even Charlotte, who has chosen this lot in life. How I long to be away.

Your dear friend, Lizzy

MAY.

Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, May 7 Lord, Ellie, I never knew I could be so f.a.gged. We have been to b.a.l.l.s and parties every night this week, we are setting up a store of them to remember when the regiment has left Meryton, though I have still not despaired of going to Brighton. Say nothing to Kitty, but Harriet has said she will ask her husband, Colonel Forster, if I might go with her as her especial friend. Just think! I might be spending the summer in Brighton, surrounded by officers!

Tomorrow Kitty and I are going to meet Jane and Lizzy on their way back from Aunt Gardiner's. We are going with the carriage to meet them at the inn and we plan to get there early so that we might look in the milliner's, then we intend to treat them to a meal at the inn before we return.

I dare say Lizzy will be wild to know about Wickham. He is not to marry Mary King after all-she is gone down to stay with her uncle at Liverpool. She is a great fool to have gone away, he will not follow her, you know. He will probably pay court to Lizzy again, though Harriet says she is sure he has an eye for me. Would that not be fun! I am sure I should not mind if he wanted to pay court to me.

As for Lizzy and Jane, I hope they come back with husbands, for they will very soon be on the shelf. Jane is almost three and twenty. I am sure I should be ashamed to be single at that age, she will be quite an old maid soon.

My aunt Philips wants them both to get husbands. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr Collins but I do not think there would have been any fun in that. Lord! How I should like to be married before any of them, and then I would chaperone them around to all the b.a.l.l.s! Dear me! We had such a piece of fun last night, what do you think we did? We dressed Chamberlayne in women's clothes, on purpose to pa.s.s for a lady-only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it but Colonel Forster and Harriet and my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of her gowns, and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny and Wickham and Pratt and a few of the others came in, they did not know him in the least. Lord! How I laughed! And so did Harriet Forster! I thought I should have died. And that made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out what was the matter!

Mama is hoping that Mr Bingley will come back to Netherfield, or that your papa will let it again to someone else, some nice family with five sons for our five daughters!

Write and tell me all about your beaux in Bath. Are you having as much fun as we are?

Lydia Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, May 9 Most n.o.ble Friend, My sisters have returned from their sojourn and are once more enwrapped in the bosom of their family. Lydia and Kitty went to meet them and returned in high spirits. I remonstrated with them gently, saying far be it from me to depreciate such pleasures, which would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds, but that they would have no charms for me. I said that I should infinitely prefer a book, and Lydia asked whether I would prefer The Necromancer or Horrid Mysteries. Like the generality of people, she is under the mistaken impression that these are salacious works, and does not realise that they are erudite works of art which give us an understanding of our ancestors, the topography of their landscapes and their historical importance. However, I am heartened by her desire to visit Brighton. Travel broadens the mind, and a few weeks on the south coast will no doubt make her aware of the rich flora and fauna to be found within these isles; that is, if our father relents and lets her go.

Your sister in wisdom, Mary Miss Jane Bennet to Mrs Gardiner Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, May 10 Mr dear aunt, I am writing to thank you for your kind hospitality over these last few months; it has given me new heart and the courage to face home again. I am glad to be with Lizzy, and Papa says he has missed me. My sisters, too, have welcomed me warmly.

The garden at Longbourn is very pretty with its new foliage and its blossoms. The weather is mild, and we are to walk to my aunt Philips's house this evening.

Give my love to my cousins.

Your loving niece, Jane Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, May 10 Well, sister, Lizzy says the Collinses live very comfortable. I suppose they often talk of having Longbourn when Mr Bennet is dead. They look upon it quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.

Lydia is wild to go to Brighton, for the regiment are to leave us, and I am sure I cried for two days together when Colonel Millar's regiment went away when I was a girl, twenty-five years ago, though it does not seem a day. I thought I should have broke my heart. If only Mr Bennet would consent to the idea, we could all of us go to Brighton. A few weeks on the coast would set me up wonderfully, but Mr Bennet will not hear of it. Ah! Sister, you do not know what I have to bear.

You must ask Lydia and Kitty to stay with you soon. I am sure I do not see why they should not have their share of the pleasure and enjoy themselves in London if they cannot go to Brighton.

I do not know what you think of this sad business of Jane's, for I made sure before she went away that she would be married by the time she returned. Four whole months she has been in London, and not even an engagement.

For my part, I am determined never to speak of Mr Bingley again to anybody. He is a very undeserving young man, and I do not suppose there is the least chance of her getting him now. There is no talk of him coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have enquired of everybody, too, who is likely to know. Oh, well, it is just as he chooses; n.o.body wants him to come. Though I shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and if I were her, I would not have put up with it. My comfort is that Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he has done.

Your affectionate sister, Janet Miss Caroline Bingley to Mr Charles Bingley Yorks.h.i.+re, May 12 Dear Charles, I had forgotten how boring it is in the country, for there is nothing to do all day. You were right to leave Netherfield; it had outlived its charm. I do not say that an estate is a bad thing, but one closer to London would be better suited to our needs. I cannot think why you keep Netherfield when you have no intention of returning. You should give up the lease and look for something closer to town. Louisa and I will help you, for there is nothing to keep us here. We have taken the waters at Harrogate and exhausted the York shops. Ned is busy all the time and never takes us anywhere. Besides, his friends are of a low sort, manufacturers and the like. He is talking of buying a mill. Mama says if that is what he wants then that is what he must have, but you must write and talk him out of it; it would be too humiliating to have a brother with a mill.

Your dearest sister, Caroline Mr Charles Bingley to Miss Caroline Bingley London, May 16 Dear Caroline, I agree with Ma-if Ned wants a mill, he must have one. He does not tell me how to be happy and upon my honour I will not tell him.

You talk of me quitting Netherfield but the lease has still some months to run and I might go there again before it has expired. It is in a very pretty part of the country and I still think fondly of it, though it is a very long time since we were last there. I left on the twenty-seventh of November, the day after the Netherfield ball. I believe I have never enjoyed myself more than I did that night; all our friends were there and I remember it often.

You will be pleased to know that Darcy has invited us to a picnic he is giving with Georgiana next month. He wants her to gain more experience of entertaining, nothing much at first, just small parties for friends, so that she learns how to go on. She is sixteen now and going more into the world. Upon my soul she is a very pretty girl, a credit to Darcy and much loved by everyone in London.

Give my love to Ma and my brothers and sisters.

Charles Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy Wilts.h.i.+re, May 18 My dear Darcy, It is almost a month now since you left Rosings and I hope your infatuation has run its course. Do you ever think of the woman you spoke of, or has she faded into memory? Whatever the case, it would be better not to try yourself too far. You should continue to avoid her until the end of the year at least, and distract yourself with thoughts of other women. There are plenty here for you to choose from. Join me in Wilts.h.i.+re, and bring Georgiana, too-I have not seen her for months and she will have changed a lot in that time. It will give her an opportunity to meet some new people, always good for a girl of her age. Besides, I would like your opinion on a young woman I am intending to marry. She offers everything a man of my standing has a right to look for in a wife. She is beautiful, well-bred and accomplished. I mean to offer for her next month.

PD.

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy Darcy House, London, May 20 My dear Philip, Ashamed as I am to admit it, I have not been able to forget Elizabeth, though G.o.d knows I have tried. I have thrown myself into the Season and I have never been at home. By day I attend to business-and I have started several new works in order to fully occupy myself, including commissioning a new orangery at Pemberley-and when I am not dealing with business affairs I am riding or boxing or fencing; either that or escorting Georgiana on pleasure trips. By night I go to soirees, b.a.l.l.s-indeed, any entertainment rather than remain at home and give myself time to think. But try as I might, the thought of her haunts me. I see her everywhere I go. I catch sight of the back of a woman's head and think: Elizabeth! Then the woman turns and I see it is not she, and I am disappointed, even though I should not be; even though our time together was categorized by verbal sparring and not by pleasantries, and should be easy to forget. But the memory of her lingers. The day I proposed in particular will not leave me. I said some things to her that were, perhaps, better left unsaid. Even worse, I cannot forget her face as she told me I was the last man in the world she could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

It used to make me angry when I thought of it, but now I find myself doubting, and wondering whether I deserved her anger. I have been too used to having my own way, perhaps. It was not well done of me to throw the inferiority of her connections in her face, nor their behaviour. She has no control over either and so of what use was it to mention it, save to show my own magnanimity in overlooking them? And that was not only condescending but arrogant of me. I am beginning to understand why she refused me, and to think that if I had managed things better...but no, I said so at the time and she returned that I could not have offered her my hand in any way that would have induced her to accept it.

I feel myself growing angry again as I think of it...but also to admire her. How many women would have refused me, even if they did not love me nor even like me? I cannot think of one. But she refused me, even knowing she was turning down Pemberley, my fortune, my position, everything that goes with being my wife. There are few enough people with principles in the world, and even fewer who stick to them when temptation to abandon them offers, but she is that rare person, a woman of honour and integrity. And I have lost her. By my own arrogance, conceit and pride, I have disgusted her.

But I was not intending to think of her, let alone write of her. Your invitation comes at a good time, you see. A change of scene will perhaps encourage a change of thoughts. I will be glad to come to Wilts.h.i.+re and I will bring Georgiana with me. You will be very pleased with her; she is quite lovely.

I have to be back in London in a few weeks-I have already sent out invitations to a picnic, or rather, Georgiana has-but you may expect us on Sat.u.r.day.

Darcy Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton Hertfords.h.i.+re, May 21 I am going to Brighton! I am going to Brighton! Lord! What a lark! Harriet is a darling! I knew she would invite me. Mama is delighted. Kitty is jealous and says she should have been invited because she is older than me, but Harriet is my particular friend. La! The streets will be paved with officers and I will be able to flirt to my heart's content. There will be Denny and Pratt and Wickham and all the rest. They dined with us last night and Kitty was wild when we all talked about Brighton. Wickham spent a great deal of time talking to Lizzy about her stay in Kent as well, but he did not seem to like what he heard. I dare say he did not like to hear that Mr Darcy had been there. Who would like to hear about Mr Darcy? He does not even have a red coat.

You must write to me every day in Brighton, though I am sure I will be too busy to write to you. But I will write when I can. Tell your mama she must take you to Brighton-I am sure you can live there as cheaply as Bath-then we will have fun together. I am writing this in haste from Colonel Forster's house because we leave here early tomorrow.

Love, Lydia Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, May 22 Dearest Susan, The house is much quieter without Lydia, and Meryton seems deserted without the officers. Mama gave a last dinner for them and I had a chance to speak to Mr Wickham. The more I saw of him, the more I was convinced that Mr Darcy spoke the truth, for there was something alarmed in Mr Wickham's eye when he saw that I had heard about the conditions attached to the living he was left, and he coloured when I said that I understood Mr Darcy better than I had done. I could not repress a smile when he said that Mr Darcy must have been on his best behaviour in front of Miss de Bourgh, as he wishes to marry her! But all in all I am not sorry that Mr Wickham has left us-a state of affairs I could not have guessed at a few short weeks ago.

As for Mr Darcy, I find that I view him with more compa.s.sion and respect than formerly, but I cannot forgive him for wounding my sister, and I am glad that he shows no signs of returning.

Although I am glad to see the regiment go, I must confess that our lives are much duller now. Our parties are less varied and we go out less often. I find myself looking forward more and more to my trip to the Lakes with my aunt and uncle.

Your friend, Lizzy Miss Lydia Bennet to Mrs Bennet Brighton, May 27 Mama, you will never guess what we did yesterday: we went first of all to the library, where Denny and Wickham attended us, and where I saw such beautiful ornaments as made me wild. I have ordered a new gown and bought a new parasol, it is the darlingest thing, only I can say no more, Harriet is calling me, we are going out again!