Page 37 of Bitterness of Spirit

“You look well today, Miss Bennet. I imagine your illness was not serious,” Lady Catherine said with veiled reproach.

“No indeed; I thank you for your care, Lady Catherine. I feel better today,” Elizabeth answered politely.

As she looked at her host, Elizabeth thought that, had she chosen differently, she might have been presented to her by that time as her future niece. She could not think without a smile of what her ladyship’s indignation would have been. What would she have said? How would she have behaved? were questions with which she tried to amuse herself to compensate for her distress.

“Well, today is surely a sad day for me since my nephews left us—and earlier than expected. I was rather displeased with such a decision, I assure you. I believe nobody feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men and know them to be much attached to me! Especially Darcy. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”

“As it should, Lady Catherine,” Mr. Collins hastily replied while the lady smiled approvingly.

Elizabeth glanced at Miss de Bourgh several times; she appeared similarly affected by her cousins’ departure, and Elizabeth could imagine her sadness once she was alone. Suddenly, the thought that amused her earlier pained her now. Mr. Darcy’s proposal was something that nobody expected, and surely not Miss de Bourgh. How would she react if she found out that her cousin wished to marry her new acquaintance? What would she say if she were unexpectedly introduced to someone occupying the position that had been prepared for her for so many years?

Although such a situation was impossible now, Elizabeth felt the distress acutely. And yet, Anne had said that Darcy would marry when he found someone to his liking. Perhaps Anne would be more upset if she knew how her cousin had been rejected and offended by someone so beneath him than by the notion that he had proposed to such a person.

Either way, distress made the rest of the evening uneasy for Elizabeth. Lady Catherine observed that Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits, immediately accounting for it herself by supposing that she did not want to go home again so soon.

“You must write to your mother to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your company, I am sure,” Lady Catherine said.

“I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in Town this Saturday. My sister and aunt are expecting me.”

“Why, at that rate, you will have been here for only a fortnight. I expected you to stay at least a month. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came.”

“I am grateful to Mrs. Collins and especially your ladyship, but we must keep to our plan. My uncle will send the carriage for us the day after tomorrow.”

Lady Catherine seemed resigned. “Oh—your uncle! Your mother’s brother or the brother of your aunt? Oh, well…I am very glad you have somebody who thinks of those things.”

Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey, and as she could not answer them all herself, attention was necessary. Luckily, Charlotte had an important share of the conversation, pleasing Lady Catherine enough to allow Elizabeth some peace until they returned to the Parsonage.

After a quick dinner, her spirits becoming lower with every passing hour, Elizabeth was relieved to finally be alone in her room. She could not believe that only that morning she received the letter that had changed her understanding of her world, of Mr. Darcy, and of herself.

As soon as she locked the door, she spread the letter on her bed again. She was in a fair way of knowing it by heart, and yet it still did not feel enough. She read it again, studying every sentence, and her feelings towards its writer were at times widely different. When she thought of the style of his address, she remained full of indignation, but when she considered how unjustly she had condemned him, her anger turned against herself. The greatest part of her disappointed feelings came from her folly in believing Mr. Wickham’s lies without ever searching for proof. Furiously, she imagined the man’s humour at her naivety and the ease with which he used her to spread his tales of woe. He was a scoundrel who needed a foolish woman to support his schemes. And she had been that woman.

Moreover, while she thought and spoke ill of him, Mr. Darcy admired her. His attachment excited gratitude; his general character, respect. Still, she could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again.

But she had been wrong; her behaviour was a constant source of vexation and regret and she wondered whether she would ever be able to make amends.

If the night after the proposal gave her little rest, the following one was even worse. She did not cry, though. She prayed for the night to pass quickly so she could leave Kent and find comfort with her sister and aunt.

***

The next morning found Elizabeth exhausted but more tranquil. After much torment and little rest, she came to the conclusion that she could change nothing from the past and the only way to remedy her errors was never to repeat them. She lacked the strength to think further of Darcy, so whenever his image appeared in her mind, she banished it.

Of Jane and Bingley, she was still heavy hearted. She now understood that if they happened to meet, perhaps under Mr. Wilson’s care, reconciliation would not be impossible—that is, until she offended the man who had the greatest influence with Mr. Bingley. If such a possibility ever existed, it was clear that Mr. Darcy would do everything in his power to prevent any future connection between himself and the Bennets—even through his friend.

There was little time for regrets and sorrow, though. Their luggage needed attention, and preparations kept them busy after breakfast. Maria was equally sorry to be leaving her sister and excited about spending a few days in London with Elizabeth’s relatives.

After noon, an unexpected event interrupted them as Miss de Bourgh and her companion arrived at the gate in the phaeton. Mr. Collins immediately spotted them and ran outside, followed by the ladies.

Anne refused the invitation to enter, but to everyone’s astonishment, she asked Elizabeth to take a brief stroll with her in the garden while Mrs. Jenkinson accepted Charlotte’s offer for a cup of tea.

“I hope I did not interrupt you, Miss Bennet,” Anne said.

“No, not at all. I am happy to see you, Miss de Bourgh.”

“I wanted to speak to you before you departed. I am sorry you cannot stay longer.”

“Thank you. You are very kind. If your company was the only aspect to consider, I would have stayed at least another fortnight.”

Anne smiled. “It is very nice of you to say that. Rosings will be silent and less interesting once you and my cousins are away.”