Page 40 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

As she spoke, Elizabeth felt distress overwhelm her as surprise turned the astonished Jane completely pale.

“I know it is impossible to imagine; I still cannot believe it myself.”

“What do you mean? But…Lizzy…how? There is… How can this be?”

“I do not know, Jane; and yet, it happened. I am ashamed to tell you what happened next.” Elizabeth spoke with some difficulty as she attempted to relate to her sister the chief of the scene between Mr Darcy and herself.

Jane listened in disbelief. To her, the proposal itself was not impossible to imagine; her strong sisterly affection made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural. But neither she nor Elizabeth had ever noticed any sign of partiality on Mr Darcy’s side, so news that the gentleman had such strong, hidden affection was disturbing. Soon, her surprise gave way to other feelings. She was sorry that Mr Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them, but she was more grieved for the unhappiness her sister’s refusal must have given him.

“Dear Jane, do you blame me for refusing him? Marrying him would ensure an excellent situation and a safe future for all of us. Have I been selfish?”

“Blame you! Oh, no. I could never call you selfish, dearest.”

“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham.”

“No—I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”

“But you will know it when I have told you what happened the very next day.”

Elizabeth then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents regarding George Wickham. It was a terrible stroke for poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in one man.

“Lizzy, this is so shocking. Can it be true? How horrible! Cannot it be a mistake? Some misunderstanding?”

“No misunderstanding and no mistake. Everything is clear now. There is only one good gentleman between the two, and I am inclined to believe it is Mr Darcy.”

“I do not doubt Mr Darcy, but…I have not been so shocked in years. Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr Darcy, what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! And having to relate such a thing of his sister despite the knowledge of your ill opinion too! It is really too distressing.”

“I know, Jane. I confess I cried—a lot—from anger with myself and with Wickham. I have been such a fool. And I accused Mr Darcy with such stupid self-confidence!”

“Do not blame yourself so harshly, Lizzy. How could you have known? There is such an expression of goodness in Mr Wickham’s countenance—such an openness and gentleness in his manner!”

“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it. And as a complete simpleton, I saw them completely wrong, and my arrogance strengthened my miscomprehension.”

“I never thought Mr Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do, Lizzy.”

“Because you are wise and careful with your judgements—and bright and kind and generous, my dearest Jane. I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him without any reason.”

“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat the matter as you do now.”

“Indeed, I could not. I was very uncomfortable and unhappy, as I knew I had been so very weak and vain and nonsensical!”

“Lizzy, please cease this self-blame. But I agree it was unfortunate that you used such very strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr Darcy, for now they do appear wholly undeserved.”

“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness of spirit is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging.”

“You are not prejudiced, Lizzy.”

“With Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham, I was. And there is one point on which I want your advice. Should I make our acquaintance, in general, understand Wickham’s character?”

Jane paused a little before she said, “Surely, there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”

“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr Darcy has not authorised me to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself.”

“Then the decision is already made.”

“But if I meet Mr Wickham again, he will hear something from me, I assure you—something that will not betray Mr Darcy’s confidence but will let Wickham have a piece of my mind!”

“I know I cannot change your mind, Lizzy. Just be careful. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish his character. We must not make him desperate.”