“Do not speak so,” his wife reproved him gently. “A proposal of marriage is a solemn connexion, even if it ends in nothing. Besides, he delivered the letter in person, as civility demands.”
“Leave these niceties aside; tell us of the letter,” urged Jane, who still hoped to hear something of Mr Bingley and his true feelings for her.
“Well, dears,” began Elizabeth—and already there was that edge of deep sarcasm with which she meant to relate the letter’s contents—“Mr Darcy begins by acknowledging the relative justice of my reproofs, though he entreats me to suspend my condemnation until he may offer such an explanation as truth and honour require.”
“You did reprove him then!” observed Mr Gardiner, not without a shade of satisfaction.
“Yes, I reproved him without restraint…with rather heavy words. And I attribute my anger to my impetuous nature. Indeed, if I regret anything, it is that I did not command myself to a colder manner—to that calm disdain which wounds far more deeply than words. I ought to have met his horrible avowals with composure that would have chilled his presumption, instead of betraying how much he had offended me when speaking in that manner of our family, and by confessing, without remorse, that he had been among those who persuaded Mr Bingley to give up Jane. Even in this letter, he first confesses his interference in the budding attachment between his friend Mr Bingley and Jane. He dared to write that he considered her affections not deeply engaged.”
“Oh!” murmured Jane. “How could anyone have failed to see that I was in love with Mr Bingley?”
“Why, easily enough,” replied Mr Gardiner. “If the ladies have not told you, I shall do so from a man’s point of view. We do not like women who flirt openly, yet we must know when a lady likes us, for we often lack the subtlety that a lady possesses. It seems you did not manage to convey that message—”
“Through modesty and good breeding,” interposed Mrs Gardiner.
“Be that as it may…the essential point is that Mr Darcy perceived no sign of your affection for his friend—”
“Because he is himself insensible and inattentive,” said Elizabeth quickly.
“Perhaps; yet, once more, everyone should have guessed your feelings—even an insensible and inattentive man such as Lizzy describes Mr Darcy to be.”
“Go on, my dear,” said Mrs Gardiner.
Elizabeth sighed; she saw her family’s agitation, but it was too late to desist.
“Persuaded that the connexion between Mr Bingley and Jane would be imprudent on account of our family’s inferior circumstances and want of propriety, he exerted his influence to detach his friend from the engagement. In this he acted, he avows, with no design of giving pain, but solely from a wish to secure Mr Bingley’s peace.”
“But did he at least perceive Mr Bingley’s affection?” asked Jane.
“Undoubtedly; otherwise he would have done nothing to prevent it.”
“Then Mr Bingley was inclined to pursue the attachment?” asked Mr Gardiner.
“Yes. It was no secret. We all saw how strongly he was disposed towards Jane.”
“And, as we know, not only Mr Darcy but his sisters also opposed the match and contrived everything to prevent hisseeing Jane,” added Mrs Gardiner, who had herself witnessed those painful efforts.
“What baseness on his sisters’ side,” said Mr Gardiner, “and weakness too…in his.”
“Such are we both,” murmured Jane. “I, unable to display my feelings; he, unable to fight for them.”
“In the end, those are faults too, my dear,” replied Elizabeth firmly. “I do not say you should be like me and show your anger, but you ought to be more open.”
The silence that followed did not endure, for Elizabeth was impatient to proceed and conclude her account—and, if possible, to close for ever the whole unhappy chapter in which Mr Darcy had been one of the principal actors.
“But that is not all. There is something more of consequence in the letter. The second part concerns Mr Wickham, whose character, Mr Darcy declares, has been most grievously misrepresented by me and others. He recounts that Mr Wickham, the son of his late father’s steward, was the object of much indulgence and had been intended for the Church; but, having squandered his inheritance and declined the living offered to him, he sought by false pretences to extort further sums.”
“My goodness,” exclaimed Mrs Gardiner. “Then I was right in never liking him at all.”
“Yes indeed. Besides, that was no surprise to me, for he had already shown his nature in Meryton when he wanted to court Miss King and her ten-thousand-pound dowry. This letter was hardly needed to reveal that he is a man without principle, a libertine, and with an alarming tendency to dishonour women for amusement—or ready to marry for money.”
Elizabeth passed in silence the sorrowful incident with Miss Darcy, whom Wickham had attempted to seduce for herfortune; she regarded that as a family secret which Mr Darcy had confided to her alone.
“I shall be glad when he quits Hertfordshire—he and all those officers,” Mrs Gardiner spoke, evidently troubled.
“Is that all the letter contains?” asked Jane, somewhat disappointed, for she had hoped to learn from Mr Darcy, as Mr Bingley’s intimate friend, whether he had genuinely been in love with her.
“Almost all, yes,” returned Elizabeth. “The letter concludes with a declaration of the truth of every statement contained, leaving me to judge him as my reason and sense of justice shall direct, and expressing regret only for the unguarded pride of his manner at Hunsford.”
