My common sense should have warned me against someone who speaks openly about his past to a complete stranger. But either I do not have common sense, or something induced me not to use it.
I thank you for taking the trouble of telling us the truth. I appreciate your effort, and I am sorry for my ill judgment and for everything unfair I have said to you on this matter. This includes our discussion at the Netherfield ball, which probably gave you the chance to laugh at my silliness — and deservedly so.
I shall apologise in person, too, as soon as the opportunity arises.
Please know that my uncle wrote to my father last evening, as you advised him.
Best regards
E. Bennet
Darcy read the letter first with curiosity, then with emotion, and in the end with a large smile on his face. A young lady writing to a single man was breaking the rules of decorum, yet she had deliberately done it for him.
Perhaps there was hope, after all.
