When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as
much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the
examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her
being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any
revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering.
But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that
cheerfulness which had been used to characterise her style, and which,
proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly
disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth
noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an attention
which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s shameful
boast of what misery he had been able to inflict, gave her a keener sense
of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his
visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next—and, a still
greater, that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane
again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits, by all
that affection could do.🔗
She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his
cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that
he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to
be unhappy about him.🔗
While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the
door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its
being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in the
evening, and might now come to enquire particularly after her. But this
idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected,
when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In an
hurried manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, imputing
his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with
cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked
about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a
silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and
thus began:🔗
“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be
repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love
you.”🔗
Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured,
doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and
the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately
followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the
heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the subject of
tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority—of its being
a degradation—of the family obstacles which had always opposed to
inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the
consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.🔗
In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the
compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did not
vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to
receive; till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost
all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to answer
him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with
representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all
his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing
his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. As
he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable
answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance
expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate
farther, and, when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she
said:🔗
“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express
a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they
may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I
could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot—I
have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it
most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has
been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short
duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the
acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it
after this explanation.”🔗
Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on
her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise.
His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was
visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of
composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have
attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings dreadful. At length,
with a voice of forced calmness, he said:🔗
“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I
might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour
at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”🔗
“I might as well enquire,” replied she, “why with so evident a desire of
offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against
your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not
this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other
provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you—had
they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that
any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means
of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”🔗
As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion
was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she
continued:🔗
“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can
excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare
not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, if not the only
means of dividing them from each other—of exposing one to the
censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its
derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the
acutest kind.”🔗
She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with
an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even
looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.🔗
“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.🔗
With assumed tranquillity he then replied: “I have no wish of denying that
I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or
that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than
towards myself.”🔗
Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, but
its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her.🔗
“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike is
founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided.
Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months
ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what
imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what
misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”🔗
“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy, in
a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.🔗
“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an
interest in him?”🔗
“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy contemptuously; “yes, his misfortunes
have been great indeed.”🔗
“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth with energy. “You have reduced
him to his present state of poverty—comparative poverty. You have
withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him.
You have deprived the best years of his life of that independence which
was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you
can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule.”🔗
“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room,
“is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I
thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this
calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps,” added he, stopping in his
walk, and turning towards her, “these offenses might have been overlooked,
had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that
had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations
might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my
struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by
unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by
everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed
of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me
to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?—to congratulate
myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly
beneath my own?”🔗
Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to
the utmost to speak with composure when she said:🔗
“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your
declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern
which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more
gentlemanlike manner.”🔗
She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued:🔗
“You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that
would have tempted me to accept it.”🔗
Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an
expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on:🔗
“From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of
my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest
belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the
feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation
on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had
not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the
world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”🔗
“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings,
and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for
having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your
health and happiness.”🔗
And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him the
next moment open the front door and quit the house.🔗
The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great. She knew not how to
support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for
half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was
increased by every review of it. That she should receive an offer of
marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he should have been in love with her for so
many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the
objections which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister,
and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case—was
almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so
strong an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride—his
shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Jane—his
unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, though he could not justify it,
and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his
cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity
which the consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited. She
continued in very agitated reflections till the sound of Lady Catherine’s
carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter Charlotte’s
observation, and hurried her away to her room.🔗