Chapter 35

by Jane Austen

　　Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts andmeditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could notyet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it wasimpossible to think of anything else; and, totally indisposed foremployment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulgeherself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to herfavourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimescoming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, sheturned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpike-road.The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soonpassed one of the gates into the ground.After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, shewas tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at thegates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had nowpassed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, andevery day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She wason the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpseof a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park; hewas moving that way; and, fearful of its being Mr. Darcy, she wasdirectly retreating. But the person who advanced was now nearenough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness,pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearingherself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr.Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that timereached it also, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctivelytook, said, with a look of haughty composure, "I have beenwalking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Willyou do me the honour of reading that letter?" And then, with aslight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon out ofsight.With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity,Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder,perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper,written quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itselfwas likewise full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she thenbegan it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o'clock in themorning, and was as follows:--"Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by theapprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentimentsor renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting toyou. I write without any intention of paining you, or humblingmyself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both,cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formationand the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have beenspared had not my character required it to be written and read.You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demandyour attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly,but I demand it of your justice."Two offenses of a very different nature, and by no means ofequal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The firstmentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I haddetached Mr. Bingley from your sister, and the other, that I had,in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour andhumanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted theprospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and wantonly to havethrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledgedfavourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any otherdependence than on our patronage, and who had been broughtup to expect its exertion, would be a depravity, to which theseparation of two young persons, whose affection could be thegrowth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. Butfrom the severity of that blame which was last night so liberallybestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope to be in thefuture secured, when the following account of my actions andtheir motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them,which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relatingfeelings which may be offensive to yours, I can only say that Iam sorry. The necessity must be obeyed, and further apologywould be absurd."I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in commonwith others, that Bingley preferred your elder sister to any otheryoung woman in the country. But it was not till the evening ofthe dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of hisfeeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before.At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I wasfirst made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidentalinformation, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had givenrise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it asa certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided.>From that moment I observed my friend's behaviour attentively;and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet wasbeyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I alsowatched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, andengaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard,and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, thatthough she received his attentions with pleasure, she did notinvite them by any participation of sentiment. If you have notbeen mistaken here, I must have been in error. Your superiorknowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. If it beso, if I have been misled by such error to inflict pain on her, yourresentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple toassert, that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air wassuch as might have given the most acute observer a convictionthat, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to beeasily touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferentis certain-- but I will venture to say that my investigation anddecisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I didnot believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed iton impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. Myobjections to the marriage were not merely those which I lastnight acknowledged to have the utmost force of passion to putaside, in my own case; the want of connection could not be sogreat an evil to my friend as to me. But there were other causesof repugnance; causes which, though still existing, and existingto an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavouredto forget, because they were not immediately before me. Thesecauses must be stated, though briefly. The situation of yourmother's family, though objectionable, was nothing incomparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, soalmost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three youngersisters, and occasionally even by your father. Pardon me. Itpains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defectsof your nearest relations, and your displeasure at thisrepresentation of them, let it give you consolation to considerthat, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share ofthe like censure, is praise no less generally bestowed on you andyour elder sister, than it is honourable to the sense anddisposition of both. I will only say farther that from what passedthat evening my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and everyinducement heightened which could have led me before topreserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappyconnection. He left Netherfield for London, on the dayfollowing, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design ofsoon returning."The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters'uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; ourcoincidence of feeling was soon discovered, and, alike sensiblethat no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortlyresolved on joining him directly in London. We accordinglywent-- and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing outto my friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described, andenforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance mighthave staggered or delayed his determination, I do not supposethat it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it notbeen seconded by the assurance that I hesitated not in giving, ofyour sister's indifference. He had before believed her to returnhis affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. But Bingleyhas great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on myjudgement than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that hehad deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuadehim against returning into Hertfordshire, when that convictionhad been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannotblame myself for having done thus much. There is but one partof my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect withsatisfaction; it is, that I condescended to adopt the measures ofart so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. Iknew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley; but her brotheris even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without illconsequence is perhaps probable; but his regard did not appearto me enough extinguished for him to see her without somedanger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me;it is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subjectI have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I havewounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done andthough the motives which governed me may to you verynaturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemnthem."With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of havinginjured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before youthe whole of his connection with my family. Of what he hasparticularly accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth ofwhat I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness ofundoubted veracity."Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had formany years the management of all the Pemberley estates, andwhose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturallyinclined my father to be of service to him; and on GeorgeWickham, who was his godson, his kindness was thereforeliberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, andafterwards at Cambridge-- most important assistance, as his ownfather, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, wouldhave been unable to give him a gentleman's education. Myfather was not only fond of this young man's society, whosemanner were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion ofhim, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended toprovide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years sinceI first began to think of him in a very different manner. Thevicious propensities-- the want of principle, which he was carefulto guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escapethe observation of a young man of nearly the same age withhimself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguardedmoments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again shallgive you pain-- to what degree you only can tell. But whatevermay be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, asuspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding hisreal character-- it adds even another motive."My excellent father died about five years ago; and hisattachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in hiswill he particularly recommended it to me, to promote hisadvancement in the best manner that his profession mightallow--and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family livingmight be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also alegacy of one thousand pounds. His own father did not longsurvive mine, and within half a year from these events, Mr.Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolvedagainst taking orders, he hoped I should not think itunreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniaryadvantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not bebenefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying law,and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand poundswould be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished,than believed him to be sincere-- but, at any rate, was perfectlyready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickhamought not to be a clergyman; the business was therefore soonsettled-- he resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were itpossible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, andaccepted in return three thousand pounds. All connectionbetween us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him toinvite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town Ibelieve he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a merepretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a lifeof idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little ofhim; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which hadbeen designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for thepresentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had nodifficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had foundthe law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutelyresolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the livingin question-- of which he trusted there could be little doubt, ashe was well assured that I had no other person to provide for,and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions.You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with thisentreaty, or for resisting every repetition to it. His resentmentwas in proportion to the distress of his circumstances-- and hewas doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in hisreproaches to myself. After this period every appearance ofacquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But lastsummer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice."I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish toforget myself, and which no obligation less than the presentshould induce me to unfold to any human being. Having saidthus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who ismore than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship ofmy mother's nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About ayear ago, she was taken from school, and an establishmentformed for her in London; and last summer she went with thelady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also wentMr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to havebeen a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, inwhose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by herconnivance and aid, he so far recommended himself toGeorgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impressionof his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded tobelieve herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She wasthen but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating herimprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of itto herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before theintended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support theidea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almostlooked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. Youmay imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister'scredit and feelings prevented any public exposure; but I wrote toMr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Youngewas of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's objectwas unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousandpounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenginghimself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge wouldhave been complete indeed."This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which wehave been concerned together; and if you do not absolutelyreject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth ofcruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner,under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you; but hissuccess is not perhaps to be wondered at, ignorant as youpreviously were of everything concerning either. Detectioncould not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in yourinclination."You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you lastnight; but I was not then master enough of myself to know whatcould or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything hererelated, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony ofColonel Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship andconstant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of myfather's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with everyparticular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of meshould make my assertions valueless, you cannot be preventedby the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that theremay be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour tofind some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in thecourse of the morning. I will only add, God bless you,"Fitzwilliam Darcy"