Elizabeth Feels Ashamed

Chapter-12

Elizabeth’s feelings as she read could hardly be described. At first she was amazed that he believed it was possible to make any apology. With a strong prejudice against anything he might say, she began his account of what happened at Netherfield. His statement of his real objections to the marriage made her too angry to be fair to him. He expressed no regret for what he had done.
His style was haughty. It was all pride and insolence.
But when she read his account of Mr. Wickham, her feelings were yet more painful. Astonishment, alarm and even horror affected her. She wished to disbelieve it entirely, exclaiming over and over again. This must be untrue! This cannot be true! This must be a lie!’ When she had read the whole letter, she put it hastily away, swearing that she would not look at it, that she would never look at it again.
In this state of mind she walked on. But it would not do. In half a minute, the letter was opened again. As calmly as possible she began it again, examining every sentence. What Wickham had said was fresh in her memory. There was wicked deceit on one side or the other. But every line of the letter proved more clearly that Mr. Darcy was entirely blameless throughout. She tried to remember any example of goodness, some remarkable honesty that might save Wickham from the attacks of Mr. Darcy. But no such memory came to her help. She could see him again, with all his charm and good manners, but she could remember nothing better about him than the general approval of the whole neighbourhood. The story about his behaviour to Miss Darcy was partly confirmed by Colonel Fitzwilliam’s behaviour only the day before. She thought for a moment about asking Colonel Fitzwilliam about the truth of the letter; but she realized that Mr. Darcy would never have dared propose this unless he was sure of his cousin’s agreement.
She remembered everything Wickham had said on the first evening they met at her uncle’s house. She was now struck by his bad taste in discussing such matters with a stranger, and she was surprised that she had not thought of this before. She remembered that he had boasted, that he was not afraid of meeting Mr. Darcy—but it was he who had left the place before the Netherfield Ball. She remembered that after the Netherfield family had left the county, he had told everyone about his troubles.
How differently everything now appeared! His attentions to Miss King were the result of mere greed for her fortune. His attention to herself was either because he was deceived about her fortune or because her liking for him flattered him. Every argument in his favour grew weaker and weaker. On the other hand, she had to admit that Mr. Darcy, although proud and disagreeable, had never shown any sign of irreligious or immoral habits. Amongst his own friends, he was admired and valued. Even Wickham said he was a good brother. She had heard him speak of his sister so affectionately that it proved he had an amiable side to his character. Moreover, if he had been as evil as Wickham pretended, then it was impossible that there could have been such friendship between himself and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley.
She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. She had been quite blind. “How contemptibly I have behaved!” she cried, “I, who have prided myself on my understanding of character! How humiliating—and all due to vanity! I was pleased with the attentions of Wickham and offended by the indifference of Darcy. At the very beginning I ignored every reasonable thought. Until this moment I never knew myself!”
Her thoughts returned to Mr. Darcy’s explanation about Jane and Mr. Bingley. But when she read again the effect was very different. He said that he had not realised Jane’s affection for Bingley; and she remembered what Charlotte had said. Jane’s feelings, though deep, were not often shown. Anyone who did not know her might have been deceived.
They made several visits to Rosings during the last week of their stay. Every time Elizabeth saw Lady Catherine she remembered that, if she had chosen it, she might by this time have been presented as her future niece. She smiled to think what her ladyship’s indignation would have been. She did not for one moment repent her refusal, or feel the slightest desire to see Darcy again, but her depression about her own family made it impossible for her to appear cheerful.
At length the day came, the coach arrived and the trunks were fastened on. Charlotte and Elizabeth said an affectionate goodbye. Mr. Collins helped Elizabeth and Maria into the carriage, reminding them all the time of the happiness they were leaving, and repeating over and over again his messages to their families.
The door was shut and the carriage drove off.
“Good gracious,” cried Maria, after a few minutes silence, “it seems but a day or two since we first came! And yet how many things have happened!”
“A great many indeed,” said Elizabeth with a sigh. “We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides having tea there twice. How much I shall have to tell!”
Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to hide.”
Within four hours they reached Mr. Gardiner’s house, where they spent a few days before returning home with Jane. When they reached home Elizabeth told her sister at last all about the scene between Mr. Darcy and herself.
Jane’s strong sisterly love made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural. She was sorry that Mr. Darcy should have declared his feelings in such a disagreeable manner; but still more sorry for the unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.
“It was wrong of him to be so sure of success,” she said. “But think how much it must increase his disappointment.”
“I am very sorry for him indeed,” replied Elizabeth. “But his pride will soon change his affection for me. Do you blame me for speaking so warmly of Wickham?”
“Blame you! Oh no?”
“But you will when I have told you what happened the very next day.”
She then spoke of the letter, repeating everything that concerned George Wickham. What a blow this was for poor Jane! She would willingly have gone through life without believing that there was so much wickedness in all mankind as was here collected in one person. Not even the innocence of Darcy, for which she was grateful, could comfort her. Earnestly, she tried to prove the likelihood of a mistake and to clear one without condemning the other.
“This will not do,” said Elizabeth, “you will never be able to make both of them good. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. There is just enough merit between them to make one good man, and recently it had been nothing about a good deal. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all belongs to Mr. Darcy, but you can choose which you like.”

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