Dear Mr. Darcy: A Retelling of Pride and Prejudice

JANUARY

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy

Fitzwater Park, Cumbria,

January 15

Philip, the weather here is dreadful; I hope it is better with you. I have never liked being cooped up indoors for any length of time and I confess myself bored, though I would not say so to my aunt. She has made me very welcome here and she has been kindness itself to Georgiana since we arrived. Georgiana will return to school by and by, but I want her to have some fun with people of her own age before returning to her studies.

We had a full house at Pemberley over Christmas but there were only a few young people and none at all under fifteen, which meant Georgiana was deprived of many of the games she would otherwise have enjoyed. I played chess and backgammon with her, but here she plays at charades and indulges in other childish pursuits; for although she is turning into a young lady there are still days when she wants nothing better than to dress Ullswater in a stole and bonnet and push the gaily attired animal along the corridors in an old perambulator. Ullswater takes it all in good part and wags her tail in enjoyment, and I confess I like nothing better than to see my sister happy.

We were expecting to find Henry here in Cumbria but his leave was cancelled and we do not know when he will next see England. We thought, after Admiral Nelson destroyed the French fleet at the Battle of the Nile last year, that the tide was turning in our favour and that we would see more of him than hitherto. With the French navy decimated and the expeditionary force unable to return to their homeland, it seemed there was some chance of the French suing for peace, but it is becoming increasingly obvious the French are bent on conquering Europe and they will not rest until they have achieved their goal or been thoroughly crushed. Needless to say, we can never consent to the former and so it must be the latter, though it means another five years of war. However, it is good for Henry’s chances of promotion and so we will not complain.

My aunt has arranged another ball for this evening. She has been tireless in her efforts to find me a wife but I am growing increasingly irritated with the whole affair. I have always hated talking to strangers and yet I must do it day after day and it puts me out of temper. It is even worse for the women. They have to try and win my favour and yet as soon as they try to catch my attention, I lose interest in them, for I cannot bear to be courted for my position or my wealth. And yet what alternative is there? Women must have husbands and men must have wives, and so I keep making myself attend all the balls and soirées to which I am invited; and of course I am invited to a great many of them. If not for the fact that I need an heir for Pemberley, I would be content to remain a bachelor. But I do need an heir and so I must do my duty and attempt to find a wife.

I have met any number of accomplished, beautiful and intelligent women from good families, with handsome dowries, but none of them tempt me. I am beginning to wonder if I am too hard to please. And yet I am convinced that the future Mrs Darcy must have something more: some indefinable quality which will make her not only a suitable mistress for Pemberley and a desirable sister for Georgiana, but a captivating and irresistible wife for me.

I remember my father’s words very well. He told me that my wife will need to command the respect of the servants and the love of my family; she must reflect the greatness of the Darcys; she must be a gracious hostess and a model of feminine virtue; she must be a modest lady and she must be possessed of a refined taste and true decorum. And she must be a woman I can admire, respect and esteem, as well as love.

It is a great deal to ask. I fear he was spoilt by his own marriage, and I have been spoilt by it, too. I can still see the expression in my mother’s eyes whenever she looked at him. There was a warm glow there, an unmistakable look of love and affection, and a certain lift to her mouth that I will never forget. If I must marry—and I must—I would like the same. But where am I to find it?

For advice on matters of this nature he referred me to you. We both bear the name of Darcy and we both have the responsibility of upholding the Darcy traditions and continuing the Darcy name. And so I ask you, Philip, have you ever met a woman who was necessary to you? A woman you would be glad to marry? Do you mean to marry when you are thirty, as you have always said, and if so, are you willing to marry without love? And how do you intend to choose your wife from the many caps that are set at you?

Yours,

Darcy

Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy

Wiltshire, January 17

Of course you are hard to please, and so you should be: you are a Darcy. There are very few women who are good enough for you. My mother drew up a list of suitable wives for me before she died, and the same ladies are naturally suitable for you, but of the eleven names on the list, four are already married, one has lost her fortune and two are personally unappealing to me. Of the remaining four, one is your cousin, Anne de Bourgh, and she is sickly and not likely to provide a living heir. The three remaining ladies are all acceptable and I mean to propose to one of them in due course, though I have not yet decided which one. I am sending you a copy of the list in case it is of use to you, and I would be glad of the names of the women deemed suitable by your aunt, as they might perhaps be of use to me.

I am holding a house party next month and you are welcome. I will invite all the young women; it might help us to decide which ones we should favour with our hands if we see them all together.

I do not pretend to be looking for love, for although you say your parents found it—and I bow to your superior knowledge of them—I confess it seems to me that happiness in marriage consists of a large house, so that a husband and wife might speak to each other occasionally if they have a mind to do so, but otherwise go their own separate ways. As Pemberley is one of the largest houses in the country, I do not despair of you finding happiness, even if it is of my sort and not yours.

I am sorry Henry could not get any leave, though I know he would not feel sorry for himself. Ever since we were children he has longed to be a soldier, and now that he is a colonel his happiness is complete—or, perhaps no, he has still something to hope for, as I am sure he would like to become a general. If the war goes on much longer, he might have his wish. For myself, I would like to see an end to the war. I want to go over to Paris but at the moment it is impossible. God knows when it will end.

Have you heard anything of George Wickham lately? I met a friend of his, a Matthew Parker, in town last week. I know nothing of Parker, other than that he comes from a good family, but he says that Wickham is quite changed. He let slip it was a letter from you that brought about the change. I gather you wrote some harsh truths, which have done him more good than all the help he has been given and made him see the error of his ways. I hope it may be so. His father was a good man and I have not forgotten him.

Yours,

PD

Mr Wickham to Mr Darcy

London, January 20

My dear Darcy,

I cannot let the New Year go by without writing to wish you well for the future and without thanking you for everything you have done for me in the past. But above all, I want to thank you for the letter you sent me last summer. I was very angry with you when I received it, for I thought it the most unjust thing I had ever read. But I could not forget it and your words gradually pierced my haze of resentment until at last I was forced to acknowledge the truth of them. I had squandered my chances as well as my resources and I was unfit for the church, as I was unfit for everything else. Your letter made me look at myself and I did not like what I saw. I began to mend my ways and I mean to continue in the same way. I want to make you glad to call me your friend, as you were once before.

Do you remember the January when the lake froze at Pemberley and your father bought us both new skates so that we might take advantage of it? And do you remember how Georgiana followed us onto the lake and how I took off my skates and gave them to her so that she might take her first few tottering steps across the ice? And how we were certain she would fall, but how she surprised us both by skating unaided before half an hour was out? If this cold weather goes on much longer, the lake will freeze again. We should go skating there! It would be good for me to forget my present worries for a few days, for God knows I am sorely pressed. I have done everything I can to mend my fortunes, but it is very hard to be alone in the world, with no one to help me to some kind of preferment. I did think of going into the army, but I do not think it would suit my temperament. The church, now…When I rejected the idea before, I was a fool who did not understand the value of such an institution, but now my ideas have undergone a radical change. I have experienced sin and I know its temptations. I have seen, too, its darker side, and witnessed the effects on those who drink too deeply of forbidden fruits. I have drawn back from the edge, to find myself once more on solid ground and I hope to use my experiences to help my fellow man. Who better to understand the temptations of the sinner than a man who has himself been a sinner?

I know there was a time when you thought me unfit for the church, and you were right. I knew nothing then of the degradations awaiting me, but I know them now, as I know the healing power of redemption. I have seen the error of my ways, thanks to you, and I hope to use my life to help others see the error of such ways as well.

My godfather, and dear friend—your father—was always pleased to say that I had a good speaking voice and a good address, and that I could charm the birds from the trees if I so wished. He believed in me, and I know you believe in me, too. It was that thought which brought me back from the dark paths I walked in my folly and ignorance.

I know you will have given the living of Kympton elsewhere by now, but you still have other livings in your gift and I feel sure you would like to see me established in one of them. It will enable you to carry out your father’s wish, and it will give you the satisfaction of seeing me, as I was meant to be, a good man guiding the souls of my parishioners as they walk the difficult path of righteousness through this world of sin.

Your friend, much humbled and chastened,

George Wickham

Mr Darcy to Mr Wickham

Cumbria, January 25

Wickham,

It will do you no good to importune me further—the living of Kympton is no longer vacant as you surmise and I have no other vacant livings in my gift. I am glad you have seen the error of your ways but you must help yourself now; I cannot help you any further. This letter ends the matter.

Darcy

Mr Wickham to Mr Darcy

London, January 27

By God, Darcy, how dare you write me such a letter? Do you think I am some beggar trying to scrape an acquaintance with you? Are you so puffed up in your own conceit that you forget we rode the same horses when we were children, swam in the same lake, climbed the same trees, worked together and played together as equals—nay, as brothers?

I thank God your father is not alive to see it. He would have been ashamed of you. He would have been disgusted and appalled that he had raised such a son, devoid of any kind of honour or loyalty or compassion. What gives you the right to say I cannot have the living, when your father expressly promised it to me? It is nothing to you, and nothing to the people of Kympton, either, who holds the living.

But think again. You surely do not mean to rob me of a livelihood. I have always known you to be proud and supercilious, but I never thought you would stoop to being a thief as well; in fact I am sure you will not sink so low. If I had half your riches, you know, and you were poor like me, I would not begrudge you a pittance of a living; quite the reverse, I would give you an allowance, and a handsome one at that, so that you could live as a gentleman. I cannot believe you mean to rob me of a livelihood without a second thought. How do you suggest I live? I must have something, and you have many livings in your gift.

In memory of all the times we played together as children and the love and affection your father showed me…but that is at the root of it, is it not? You are jealous because he loved me like a second son—in fact I believe he preferred me, and who can blame him? I, at least, took pains to entertain him, whereas you would never give yourself the trouble. By God, that is it. I have always suspected it and now I know, and this is how you mean to pay me out: by reducing me to nothing.

How could I help it if he preferred me? An old man will always like a handsome face and charming manners. Your face is handsome enough, I’ll grant you, but your address is as stiff as a board. You have all the charm of a poker—is it any wonder that your father preferred me? He cannot be blamed for liking my cheerful manners or for being repulsed by your pride and your d——d self-righteous arrogance.

But you do blame him and now you are taking your revenge. What do you want? Do you want me to crawl? Then be d——d to you. I will not crawl to you or any man. If you do not mean to help me, then you can go hang.

I wish you every ill that you have inflicted on me.

Wickham

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

London, January 30

Well, Matthew, you will be surprised to get this letter after so long a silence, but I had no wish to write to bore you with my troubles, and debtors’ prison is the most boring of all ills. But now I am out and living with a wealthy widow, though not for long: I would sooner be the master than the lapdog.

I have a mind to look about me for an heiress. Now that there is no chance of my getting the living of Kympton—I tried Darcy again, d——n him, but to no avail—I must look to some other way of supporting myself. Do you know any heiresses? Are there any in York? I am not known in that area, and I may pass there for a respectable man.

Let me know if you can help me. If I catch someone by your introduction, you may be sure you will always be welcome in my home.

Wickham

FEBRUARY

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

York, February 5

Good God, George, I could not believe it when I received your letter. I thought you were dead! Well, well, well, so that is where you have been: debtors’ prison. I should have guessed. It is very good to know you are still alive and well, however, and looking for the love of your life. George Wickham married! What a sight that will be. I wish I knew any heiresses, but if I did, I would be making a play for them myself. My pockets are empty, as always.

Let me know the name of your widow. If you are leaving, then there will be a warm berth there for me, and it will suit me to leave York just at this moment. You might be able to pass for a respectable man here, but alas! I cannot. I must leave the city, at least for a while, and London would be as good a place as any for me to pass the time.

Have you seen anything of Belle lately?

Parker

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

London, February 13

The widow is Mrs Dawson. Meet me at The Black Bull and I will take you home and introduce you, and then I will be off in pursuit of a wife. A pity there are none in York, but never mind, I will try my luck with Anne de Bourgh. If I can catch her away from her dragon of a mother, then something might be done.

You ask about Belle but sadly I have not seen her for years. We had some times together, Belle and I! But neither of us had any money and although we managed to scrape along together for a while, in the end the creditors were pressing and so we had to part. The last I heard of her, she was thinking of turning respectable.

Wickham

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

Leeds, February 16

Belle! Respectable? Good Lord! That is the best joke I have heard in a long time.

The de Bourgh girl sounds promising. Does she have any money? If so, you’ll have to fight the mother for her. Not the first time a George has fought a dragon!

Parker

George Wickham to Matthew Parker

London, February 18

Of course she has money; why else would I want to marry her? Miss Anne de Bourgh is the heiress of Rosings. She not only has a fortune, but the property will pass to her on her marriage as well. I have only to marry her and I will be George Wickham of Rosings Park. It has a fine sound, do you not think?

Wickham

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

Leeds, February 22

Better than George Wickham of Debtors’ Prison at any rate. Hurry up and marry the girl. I am in low funds and need somewhere to stay. Let me know when you have tied the knot and I will join you at Rosings as soon as the deed is done. Summer in Kent would suit me well.

Parker

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Kent, February 27

It is going to be easier than I thought. I travelled down to Kent, where I took a room at the local inn and made discreet enquiries as to Anne’s movements, hoping that once I knew them I could arrange to bump into her ‘accidentally’ whilst she was out taking the air. But the de Bourghs are no longer in Kent; they are in Bath as Anne is sickly and she has gone there to take the waters. It will be far easier for me to renew our acquaintance there, where there are a thousand and one ways of meeting her. I am on my way to Bath now and I will write to you when I get there.

Wish me luck!

Wickham

MARCH

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, March 1

Bath, eh? You’re in luck. You can bump into her easily in the Pump Rooms and it won’t look suspicious. Tell her you’ve got a touch of gout!

It should be easier for you to get her alone there, too. Her mother will have a lot of acquaintances and be gossiping half the time, I don’t doubt; either that or playing the grand lady and entertaining herself by patronising everyone else.

Parker

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Bath, March 2

Well, I have made a start. I found Anne at the Pump Room this morning and she was alone, apart from her companion. I took a glass of the waters and then sidled over to her, bumping into her and apologising, and then being concerned in case I had spilt the water on her dress. I affected surprise on recognising her and she blushed very prettily. She was flattered by my attentions, because of course I told her how well she looked—I am sure everyone else must tell her how sickly she looks—whilst the companion glowered at me and tried to hurry Anne away. So then I started talking about old Mr Darcy and mentioned that I was his godson and reminded Anne of all the happy times we had spent together at Pemberley. The companion was mollified and she was soon all smiles, for I bowed and kissed her hand, of course, and looked at her as though she were a beauty when in fact I am sure she must turn milk sour.

All was going well, very well, until Lady Catherine arrived. Anne shrank at once, and the companion looked nervous. I greeted Lady Catherine respectfully and told her that I had seen Darcy lately and that he was well. She raised her eyebrows but I saw that she remembered me and I thought everything was going to be all right, until she looked down her nose and said, ‘Ah, yes, the steward’s son,’ and with that she turned her back on me.

I hid my disappointment, bowed and smirked, and accepted my dismissal gracefully. But I have not given up. If I can only find Anne alone, I am certain I can win her. Let me have but half an hour with her and I will persuade her to leave her drab and dreary life behind and elope with me.

Wickham

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, March 4

Use all your charm. I am sick of the Widow. I want my freedom, and the freedom of Rosings Park.

Parker

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Bath, March 5

I renewed my assault this morning, meeting Anne in the library. Her eyes lit up when she saw me and I bowed and kissed her hand. We were soon talking about her favourite books and all was going well until the companion hurried over from the other side of the room, saying that Lady Catherine had instructed them not to be more than ten minutes. I tried to talk to Anne again but it was no good. At the mention of her mother, Anne became anxious, and as the companion was evidently not going to leave her side, I had to withdraw with a good grace.

There is no use in my remaining: Anne and her mother are due to return to Rosings in a few days. But I have not given up. In a few years’ time, Lady Catherine might have passed away and then I can try again.

In the meantime, I am returning to London. Meet me in The Black Bull on Saturday at midday and we will drown our sorrows together.

Wickham

Lady Catherine de Bourgh to Mr Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, March 17

Dear nephew,

I called in at Darcy House on my way back from Bath and I spent the day with Georgiana. Her school has done well with her but it can do nothing more for her. She is old enough now to have an establishment of her own and you should form one for her in London. It is what your mother would have wished.

You will be pleased to hear that Anne’s health is much improved by drinking the waters. I knew it must be so. Mr Feather was quite wrong when he said that Anne’s condition was not the kind to benefit from a visit to Bath, and he has of course been forced to admit that I was right. I have been responsible for many cures by giving out good advice.

Your father’s steward’s son was in Bath. He did not seem to have any employment and I told him that he must apply himself if he wanted to get on in the world. It is amazing to me how many young men these days seem to squander their time and their energies. I told him that the Lymingtons were looking for a steward and I promised to mention his name. He told me he was very grateful for the attention.

Your friend Bingley was at Darcy House with his sisters when I arrived. They were visiting Georgiana and they had taken her riding in the park prior to my arrival. They were all impressed with Georgiana’s equestrienne skills.

Mr Bingley’s eldest sister is newly married to a Mr Hurst. He is a man who evidently suffers from fatigue and I told him that he would find the waters beneficial. Miss Bingley was much struck by the idea and assured me they would go to Bath forthwith.

‘Let it be soon,’ I said, ‘for he will never recover without drinking the waters,’ and she was forced to agree.

Mr Bingley is looking for an estate of his own. I advised him that he should look no further than Surrey. He said that he did not know if he would like the place but I told him he would like it very well: people in trade are always fond of Surrey.

Lady Catherine

Mr Darcy to Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam

Pemberley, Derbyshire, March 20

I have had a letter from Lady Catherine and she raises a subject close to my thoughts at the moment, saying that she thinks I should set up a separate establishment for Georgiana in London. I have thought of it often recently but I have done nothing about it as I like to have my sister here at Pemberley when she is not at school. It is her home and she is very fond of it. I must also confess that I do not like to think of the place without her. But she is old enough now to leave school, and although it is one thing for her to spend the holidays at Pemberley, it is quite another for her to live here alone, for I cannot always be in Derbyshire.

If she had an establishment in London, she would have plenty of company all year round. There are always aunts, uncles and cousins in town on business or pleasure, and she would also have the parks, the picture galleries and the museums of London to educate and entertain her. I am more often in town than in Derbyshire and she would have my company then, as she would have it every summer when she would join me at Pemberley.

Let me have your thoughts on the matter; you know how much I value your opinion. I do my best for her, but it is at times like these that I realise how little I know about raising a child—or a young lady, I should say, for Georgiana is a child no longer—and I need advice.

Your affectionate nephew,

Fitzwilliam

Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, March 23

Dearest Georgiana,

How good it was to see you last week. How Ullswater made me laugh! And you are grown so talented. Your watercolour of the Thames was the prettiest thing you have done, and I am not surprised your brother wants to hang it in the drawing room. I wish I could learn to paint but Mama says that I am not well enough and that the lessons would fatigue me. I am sure they would not. However, I take my sketchbook out of doors whenever I can and I think the fresh air does me good, though Mama says it is injurious to my health.

We were sorry to miss your brother but your friends the Bingleys seem pleasant people. Mr Bingley is very handsome, is he not? And so good-humoured. What a change it was to hear someone who was pleased with everyone and everything, saying that London was the finest place in creation, full of the most interesting gentlemen and the prettiest ladies. I liked his sisters less, but you know them better than I do and I must confess they were very elegant—even Mama said they were well dressed for people whose family are in trade.

Have you heard anything of Henry recently? We have not heard anything since Christmas, but as he is your guardian I thought you might have some more recent news.

Affectionately yours,

Anne

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Miss Anne de Bourgh

Darcy House, London, March 29

Dearest Anne,

Ullswater is very funny, is she not? She makes me laugh all the time, although sometimes I should not laugh, I know. She knocked my paint box flying yesterday and I had to scrub the carpet before my governess returned so that Ullswater would not be in trouble. My governess does not like dogs and looks for any excuse to criticise her. I am not allowed to take her with me when I go riding but she begs to come with me every time. I tell her she may not go, but I always relent. It is true she chases rabbits, but the sight of her lolloping along beside me makes up for any inconvenience.

My brother was sorry to miss you, too, and he was sorry not to be able to visit you for Easter, but he says we will see you in the summer. He is back in London now and he is staying with me at Darcy House. He had a letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam yesterday and everything is well, or at least it was when the letter was posted, but it is difficult for letters to get through, you know. There was a lot in the letter about the war and the price of everything, also about military manoeuvres and some of the commanders, and there was a note in it for me. My guardian told me that the weather is good, much warmer than it is here, and the food bearable, and that he has some leave coming to him in the summer so that he will join us at Pemberley. The Bingleys will be coming, too. They are very agreeable people, are they not? Miss Bingley plays duets with me and she and her sister sing with me. They remained in Yorkshire over the winter on account of a sad bereavement but they returned to London recently and they are often here. I am glad of it. Mr Bingley dances with me after dinner sometimes whilst his sister plays the piano. I am preparing myself for the future, you see. I must know how to go on when I come out.

Miss Bingley is at present trying to persuade her brother to buy an estate. He is willing, but my brother does not think he will find it easy to settle because he enjoys travelling too much and meeting new people. He is at that time of life when friendships are growing and the circle of acquaintances is always expanding.

My brother says that Mr Bingley is so easily persuadable that if one of his friends only says to him, ‘Bingley, I think you had better not buy an estate, you know,’ Mr Bingley will probably not do it.

All the same, his sisters seem determined for him to have somewhere and I think they will prevail in the end.

Your affectionate cousin,

Georgiana

APRIL

Mr Bingley to Mr Darcy

London, April 3

Upon my honour, Darcy, it is good of you to invite us to dine with you. I am looking forward to seeing you again and to asking you for some advice about buying an estate. Caroline and Louisa can only see that it would give me somewhere to invite my friends, but there is a lot of work involved in running such a place and I do not know if I would be up to the task. Your aunt thought it a good idea and recommended Surrey, but Caroline did not take to the idea. Perhaps you would be so good as to give me your opinion when we meet next week.

Your friend,

Bingley

Lady Catherine de Bourgh to Mr Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, April 8

Dear nephew,

I hear from Georgiana that your friend Bingley did not like Surrey and that he intends to buy an estate elsewhere. It is astonishing to me that gentlemen these days are so ignorant of what is to their own advantage. Your friend Bingley is not the only one to suffer from this complaint. The rector of Hunsford, Mr Green, is similarly afflicted, and saw fit to die last week, when it was clearly in his best interests to remain alive.

Like all inconsiderate people, he died at a most inconvenient time. If he had waited until next month, I would have had more leisure to replace him. I cannot think it would have mattered to him: having lived for ninety years it would surely not have troubled him greatly to have lived for another six weeks. However, it would have made a great difference to me as my guests would, by then, have departed. But that is the problem with people today: they have no thought for others. It is a universal complaint.

It is proving difficult for me to find a replacement. As the rectory is so near to Rosings Park, it is necessary for me to have a man of sound good worth and sobriety, with a respectful manner and a becoming gratitude for the favour bestowed. He must be a man of exceptional character as well as a man of great ability; a man who understands the difference of rank but who is at the same time a gentleman. In addition to this, he must have a proper humility. I will not have him subjecting Anne to the impertinent attentions her beauty is certain to inspire, for in point of true beauty, Anne is far above the rest of her sex. I cannot prevent him from worshipping her from afar, as, indeed, what man could resist? For such a refined and elegant young woman cannot help inspiring the tenderest feelings in the male breast. But her future lies elsewhere, as well you know.

I have so far seen four candidates but they have been impossible. Mr Frampton did not play cards so he would not do, for I must have some entertainment in the evenings; Mr Redding did not show the proper deference and I cannot abide a clergyman who is above himself; Mr Waring was so overcome by Anne’s beauty that he could not remember her name and kept calling her Miss…Miss…and Mr Ingers referred to me as Mrs de Bourgh. Another gentleman, a Mr Collins, has been recommended to me. I have no great hopes of him but I will see him nonetheless.

In my day, clergymen were all of them suitable. It is a sad sign of the times that not one of them today will take the trouble to be what I wish them to be.

Your aunt,

Lady Catherine

JUNE

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

June 7

The Sothertons have left us at last and Netherfield Park is empty. We have all been cast down by their departure; all except Mary, who said that we must cherish in our bosoms the knowledge that vice, if allowed to flourish, will fell even the mightiest oak, and that we must take heed of the lesson so unwillingly taught to us by our unlucky neighbours. Papa asked her if vice would fell the mightiest elm, or if it was only the oak it could topple, which was very wrong of him, but Mary would try the patience of a saint.

We went over to my aunt Philips’s house this evening, where Mary told Mr Shackleton that vice could fell any tree taller than a sapling, no matter what its species, and the rest of us spent most of our time bemoaning the loss of our friends. Charlotte felt it as much as Jane and I. She lifted our spirits, however, by saying that Mr Sotherton would have far fewer temptations in Bath and that the family could live there more cheaply, so that they would have a better chance of restoring their fortunes and then being able to return to Meryton.

My aunt Philips said that two people have already requested a viewing, for she saw Mr Morris, the Sothertons’ man of business, in town this morning, and told us all about it. Mama made particular enquiries as to the nature of the prospective tenants but she was put out to discover that the first of them is a young man with a wife and two children and the second is a retired sea captain. She is hoping that neither of them take it, for she would like a family with five sons to come to the Park so that she can marry us all off at one fell swoop. The first son is to be the heir and he is to marry Jane. The second is to be a military man and he is to marry Lydia. The third is to be a clergyman with a handsome living and he is to marry Mary. The fourth is to be a sailor, the captain of a frigate, and he is to marry Kitty. And the youngest son is to marry me. I think my marriage was an afterthought, as I believe that Mama had forgotten about me!

Papa occasionally reminds her that no such family has taken the estate, but she is so happy in the imagining of it that for the most part he leaves her be.

She had some hopes that Jane might be about to marry last month. There was a gentleman from London who was staying with the Robinsons, but it all came to nothing. I am glad of it. Jane liked him, but when did Jane not like anyone? However, she was not downhearted when he went away, so it was nothing but a passing fancy. Mama was very upset, however, saying that Jane will soon be an old maid. Jane is one and twenty! Lydia of course believes everything Mama says, and declares that she will never be an old maid and that she will be married by the time she is sixteen. Since this puts Mama into a good humour, Papa says nothing to discourage it; indeed he remarks that if she can find a man who is silly enough to marry her he will consider himself lucky and hand her over with his blessing. This leads Mary to reflect on the seriousness of matrimony, whilst Kitty fidgets and asks for a new bonnet. So you see we all go on as usual!

I will write again when I have any news.

Your affectionate niece,

Lizzy

Mr Charles Bingley to Mrs Bingley

Pemberley, Derbyshire, June 15

Dearest Ma,

I have been to see three estates these last few weeks and Caroline has disliked them all. She is such a fine lady that upon my honour I hardly dare speak to her anymore. She finds fault with everything, saying the drawing room is not as large as the Pemberley drawing room or the view from the dining room is not as splendid as the one at Pemberley. She will never find a house like Pemberley, and so I keep telling her, but she only smiles and says there are other ways to live in a house than buying it. If she thinks Darcy will marry her, she is mistaken. He will marry Miss de Bourgh if he marries to please his family, and he will certainly not marry Caroline if he marries to please himself, upon my honour he will not.

I am trying to persuade her to return to Yorkshire but she says I will need a hostess and she cannot leave me in my hour of need. I thought she might leave me last week, for there was some talk of Darcy sending Georgiana to the coast for a few weeks and Caroline said that she had a mind to visit the coast herself. But when she learnt that Darcy did not intend to go with his sister she changed her mind.

Are you sure you do not need her for a few weeks, Ma? I am certain the little ones would like to see her. We will be returning to London in a few days’ time so send your reply to the London address.

Your loving son,

Charles

Mr Darcy to Lady Catherine de Bourgh

Darcy House, London, June 18

I sympathise with you over your difficulties in finding a new rector for Hunsford, aunt. I have had similar difficulties of my own. I had to dismiss my steward when I found he had been taking money from the estate and now I am looking about me for another one. I have had two since old Mr Wickham passed away but neither of them have been satisfactory. It has been a difficult position to fill, particularly as Mr Wickham’s stewardship was exemplary. I am running the estate myself for the time being but the sooner I find a new steward the better. The grove at the far end of the lake needs coppicing and the home farm is in need of repair, to name but two pressing matters. Do you know of anyone who might suit?

I am also looking about me for a companion for Georgiana. Her governess has left her to marry and I think that a companion would be more suitable as Georgiana is now fifteen. She will still continue with her masters so you need not fear that her studies will be neglected, but she needs a woman who can show her, by example, how to behave in company. She is too young to come out but she is starting to attend small parties I hold at Pemberley, where she can learn adult manners amongst friends.

And speaking of friends, Henry writes to me that he will be home in a few weeks on leave and he will be coming to Pemberley, where I know he will be pleased to see the improvement in Georgiana. He has promised to bring her a collection of pressed flowers from Spain, species which flourish there but are not to be met with here, and she is planning to use them to decorate a screen. She has already made the design and although I have a brother’s partiality, I think it very well done.

Henry has written to you, too, I know, but the mail being uncertain from the Continent he has asked me to say that he will call on you at Rosings in July. It is very hot in London and I am thinking of sending Georgiana to the coast following his visit, as I am persuaded it would do her good. Perhaps Anne would like to go with her? The two of them are good friends and they would be company for one another.

Your affectionate nephew,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Lady Catherine de Bourgh to Mr Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, June 20

You need not trouble yourself over the matter of Georgiana’s companion. I have found you one, a very respectable woman by the name of Younge. She just happened to be mentioned to me the other day by Mrs Campbell, a very genteel woman whose husband is in the diplomatic corps. Mrs Younge is lately widowed and as her husband did not leave her very well provided for she is in need of a position. Mrs Campbell gave her friend the highest references and of course Mrs Younge will be only too delighted to find herself as companion to Miss Georgiana Darcy.

Your idea of sending Georgiana to the coast is a good one and with Mrs Younge to guide her she will be able to make the most of the opportunity to sketch and paint the coast. Anne, alas, will be unable to go with her. Mr Feather is quite wrong when he says the sea air would be beneficial to her health; it would certainly be ruinous to her.

You must send two menservants with Georgiana, as it would be highly improper for her to travel otherwise: Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr Darcy, of Pemberley, cannot appear with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those things and you must be attentive to them as well.

I have arranged for Mrs Younge to call upon you on the twenty-second of June at ten o’clock, when you will confirm her appointment.

Your aunt,

Lady Catherine

Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, June 22

Dear Georgiana,

Mama says you are going to the coast. You must promise to write to me, for I do so like to hear from you. I get out very little and although we have people to dine they are always the same. We will have some variety soon, however, for Mama has just appointed Mr Collins as the new rector of Hunsford. He was ordained at Easter and seems very grateful for the preferment, which pleases Mama. He is also very agreeable and does whatever she asks him to do, as though it is his greatest pleasure on earth. He is an educated man, having been to university, but is not puffed up with conceit like so many young men nowadays, or so Mama says. He has a suitable humility, and a becoming gratitude towards her. She invited him to dinner yesterday, and he spoke at length on the duties of a clergyman and of the obligation he feels towards her for having given him such a splendid preferment so early in life.

Mama said, ‘Mr Collins, I have chosen you for the living and I am a superb judge of character. I never judge wrong.’ Mr Collins said that he had known as much from the moment he laid eyes on her, and Mama was impressed by his honesty and sense. He will be moving into the parsonage next month.

I hope you like Mrs Younge. Mama says she is a very agreeable woman and will make you an excellent companion. I believe your brother is seeing her today. I hope he likes her and that Colonel Fitzwilliam approves. Tell me, have you heard anything from Colonel Fitzwilliam recently? I must confess…but I had better not say any more.

Your loving coz,

Anne

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Miss Anne de Bourgh

Darcy House, London, June 30

Dearest Anne,

Mrs Younge has been appointed and I like her very much. Do you know, when Ullswater knocked over my screen this morning, instead of saying she was a horrible beast who ought not to be allowed in the house, Mrs Younge simply picked it up again, dusted off the footprints and said, ‘No harm done.’

I am sorry you are not to come with me to the coast as it is now certain I am to go. It is so hot in London that I feel like a cut flower which someone has forgotten to put in water. I am to go to Margate or Ramsgate, just wherever Mr Hargreaves manages to find a suitable house. Poor Mr Hargreaves! He is having to do everything at the moment. My brother has not only instructed him to find me a suitable house by the sea, but also to supervise Pemberley until a new steward can be found. It is a pity that my brother has had a falling out with George Wickham, otherwise he could ask him to be the new steward. But when I ventured to mention it, Fitzwilliam became quite cold and said that it would be most unsuitable.

I hope to see Colonel Fitzwilliam when he comes home and I will tell you all about it. I am very fortunate to have him as my guardian. He always has some present for me, and I always make sure to give him something in return. I have painted a screen for him and I mean to present it to him when next we meet. I wish he did not have to go away to war, but someone must do it, I suppose, and all his life he wanted to be a soldier so I cannot complain.

Your affectionate cousin,

Georgiana

JULY

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

London, July 4

The biggest stroke of luck! I was walking in the park yesterday and who should I see but Belle. You remember Belle? Of course you do! We went to many parties with her and her friends when last we knew her, and you surely will not have forgotten them! If you remember, I told you that the last time I saw her she was thinking of turning respectable. Well, she has. I took her for an ice and she told me all about it.

It seems she happened to run across an old school friend who had seen nothing of her for years, and so of course she said nothing of the recent past. She drew a veil over her string of protectors and said only what she wanted her friend to hear: that she had married a good man, a Mr Younge, that he had tragically died and that she was left in difficult circumstances. This friend, a Mrs Campbell, gave her a glowing reference and helped her to a position as a companion to an heiress.

Ah! I thought that would make you sit up! But the best of it is, she is not just the companion to any heiress, she is the companion to Georgiana Darcy!

You can imagine how I felt when she told me. My heart leapt! An heiress, one I could approach and scrape an acquaintance with, and then reminisce about our happy childhoods with, for although I am some ten years older than her I was always kind to her when she was a little girl. Better yet, she is being sent to the coast by her brother for the summer, and what better place for me to approach her, where there will be no old servants watching, and no Darcy House to present a forbidding aspect? Only a promenade and many sheltered coves, with no friends or relatives nearby. A companion to guard her, of course—and that companion to be Belle!

I intend to run away with her to Scotland, where we can be married over the anvil, and then her thirty thousand pounds will be mine. Not only will I have a rich wife, but I will be revenged on Darcy for his contemptuous treatment of me.

Belle intends to work on Georgiana, encouraging her in romantic thoughts, so that she will be susceptible to my advances. I am to bump into them by chance when they are settled and then Belle will suggest I am invited to dinner. Before long, I will have Georgiana eating out of my hand.

I am going to buy a new suit of clothes but I will write to you again when I know where I will be spending the summer. Come and join me and we will celebrate: you, me and Belle together.

Wickham

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, July 6

They say the devil looks after his own and it seems they speak truly. A rich wife and revenge into the bargain! By God, Wickham, you’ve fallen on your feet. Make the most of it!

Parker

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Mr Darcy

Ramsgate, July 8

Dearest Brother,

We arrived in Ramsgate yesterday evening and we are very happy with the house. Mrs Younge says it is very convenient. It is small compared to my London establishment, but it is very comfortable and it has a pretty view of the sea. Mrs Younge and I are going down to the beach this afternoon as I am eager to make a sketch of the coast. I will send it to you when it is finished.

Your affectionate sister,

Georgiana

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Darcy House, London, July 10

It is good to know that you will soon be with us. I am in London at present and I will be here until the end of July, certainly, and probably for August as well. I have sent Georgiana to Ramsgate for the summer. Caroline Bingley was keen to go, too, until she learnt that I would not be there. Her attentions to me grow ever worse. She flatters and praises me, and drops hints as large as Derbyshire about becoming the future Mrs Darcy. Poor Charles! He is mortified by her attentions to me and he feels he has to apologise at least twice a month. He is in town at the moment but he will be going north to visit his family next week and then he intends to continue his search for a country estate. His family want him to buy one, and he is not averse to the idea—indeed, he is of their opinion, although he asked sensible questions of me, about upkeep and other practical matters. But I have promised to look over any property he is thinking of buying and I have offered to help him appoint a steward. He thinks he will settle somewhere in the middle of the country. He has his family home in Yorkshire and he visits me often in Derbyshire, so he is thinking of somewhere in Hertfordshire or thereabouts. He has told his agent to look in that area.

I hope to see you next week. Until then, my dear Henry, I am

Your cousin,

Darcy

Mrs Belle Younge to Mr Wickham

Ramsgate, July 10

We are settled in Ramsgate, and a quieter spot you could not hope to find. Georgiana knows no one here and so there is no one to take an interest in any comings and goings. The servants are all local people. The only two who knew Georgiana were the footmen who accompanied us on our journey, but they have since returned to London. She receives letters from her cousin and from her brother and her guardian, but no one calls.

I have already encouraged her to take Romeo and Juliet out of the circulating library and she is reading it with interest. I spun her a yarn about my own love for my husband and said that I hoped she found a love of her own. I sighed and said how we had eloped and how it had been so romantic, without all the fuss of a society wedding, and she was enthralled.

Meet us on the promenade on Monday; we will be walking there between eleven and twelve.

Belle

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, July 15

How are things going along? I have had to move out of The Black Bull and back in with the Widow. Hurry up and carry your prize off to Scotland.

Parker

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Ramsgate, July 17

I am off to a good start. I met Georgiana and Belle ‘by accident’ on the promenade. It was a fine day, exactly the sort of day I wanted, with a smiling sea, a gentle breeze, a blue sky and white clouds floating across it. The poets themselves could not have designed a better day for my purpose.

Georgiana was even more beautiful than I expected, the years since I have seen her having done remarkable things to her face and figure. I feigned a look of surprise as I drew close and said, ‘Why, if it isn’t Georgiana! Or Miss Darcy, I should say.’

Belle played her part magnificently, pretending to be very wary of me until she learnt that I was a friend, and the godson of old Mr Darcy, and then she thawed and encouraged Georgiana to behave in a friendly fashion, saying that I must join them for dinner. Georgiana was hesitant, knowing that I had fallen out with Darcy but not why. However, Belle smoothed it over, saying that gentlemen often fell out and that it meant nothing.

A willing chambermaid helped me to pass the time agreeably until the evening and then I set out for Georgiana’s house. I flattered her subtly, listened to her playing the pianoforte—why women must play the thing I cannot imagine, since no one can actually enjoy listening to the noise—and told her she was becoming very accomplished. I made friends with her dog and arranged to take her and Belle on a picnic.

Luck favoured me again. We took our picnic up on to the cliffs and Georgiana’s bonnet blew off. We both ran to catch it, she went too near the edge of the cliff, and I caught her in my arms to prevent her falling—or so I said, though really she could have gone ten yards closer to the edge without any danger. But she did not object, far from it. I made the most of the opportunity, looked deep into her eyes and told her I was glad I had found her again. She blushed and said she was glad she had found me, too.

I bought her a new bonnet and presented her with it this morning. She is already half won. Another week to win her affections entirely, then a week to do away with her scruples over an elopement, and then we will run off before Darcy pays his planned visit at the start of next month.

Wickham

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Mr Darcy

Ramsgate, July 17

My dear brother,

It is another sunny day here in Ramsgate and I am very pleased to be here. Mrs Younge and I are in the habit of taking healthful walks by the sea every day, which I very much enjoy. Ullswater goes with us and you would laugh to see her running up to the waves and pouncing on them. You will be pleased to know that I am using the parasol you gave me, and it is much admired. The gloves and bonnet you sent me, too, are admired wherever we go.

We have met some old friends here and made some new. How good it is to see familiar faces when we are a long way from home! Mrs Younge encourages me to be sociable, saying it is good practise for me, so that I will know how to behave when I have my formal come-out. She is instructing me on how to behave, and giving me advice on how to deal with the ladies and gentlemen we meet, so that I know how far I may go in my friendship with them. I wish Mama were alive, so that I could learn from her, for I am not convinced that Mrs Younge always knows the right way to go on, but I must not repine. I have you, dear brother, to look after me, and my dear cousin Henry, and my other friends from Pemberley who will make sure that I do not go wrong.

It is a great thing to be young, is it not? To have one’s life before one, and to know that love is never far away. How I long to see you, to share my joy with you, but perhaps I speak too soon. I am still very young, I know.

Mrs Younge is calling me. It is time for us to go for our afternoon walk. I wonder if we will meet our dear friend by the sea? I hope so! But for now, dear brother, adieu.

Your loving sister,

Georgiana

Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, July 17

I am thinking of you overlooking the sea as I sit here in my room overlooking the rose garden. It is very hot and I envy you a sea breeze.

Mr Collins dined with us last night. We learnt all about him, what little there is to know. He has a brother and also a family of cousins who live in Hertfordshire. Their property is entailed on him as they do not have a son, only five daughters. I am glad Rosings Park is not entailed away from the female line. I would not like to leave here even when I marry. I love the house and the grounds—even when it is very hot, as now.

We are looking forward to Henry’s visit. Remember me to him if he should happen to visit you in Ramsgate.

Your cousin,

Anne

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Miss Anne de Bourgh

Ramsgate, July 19

I will have to leave Pemberley when I marry, but I do not think it will trouble me. I love it dearly, but I would gladly live in a crofter’s cottage if I could be with the man I love.

I think you will see my guardian before I do. He is presently in London but I have had a letter from my brother this morning and he says that Colonel Fitzwilliam intends to go to Brighton before calling upon you in Kent, after which, I dare say, he might visit me in Ramsgate, perhaps arriving with my brother, who, I know, intends to visit me at the start of next month. How happy we will be, all friends together.

Your loving cousin,

Georgiana

George Wickham to Matthew Parker

Ramsgate, July 21

Why does anyone come to Ramsgate? The place is like death, all virtue and propriety. If not for my chambermaid, I would go mad with boredom. However, I will not be here for much longer. Darcy is due to visit at the start of August and so I must run off with Georgiana by the end of this month. She is nearly ready for my proposal. Belle has worked on her tirelessly, encouraging her romantic notions and saying that when two people are in love they do not need all the pomp and ceremony of a cathedral, but prefer a rustic wedding. The idea has borne fruit, for when Georgiana wrote to her cousin a few days ago she said that she would gladly live in a crofter’s cottage with the man she loves. Not that an heiress with thirty thousand pounds will ever have to live in a crofter’s cottage! I mean to treat her well when we are married and buy her all the frills and fripperies her heart desires. She will not regret having married me. And this will be my best revenge: for Darcy to see how happy she is with me and be unable to turn her against me. It cheers me every morning to think that he has no notion what is going on behind his back, for Belle reads all Georgiana’s mail and prevents anything which mentions me by name from being sent. By the time Darcy learns that I have been in Ramsgate it will be too late. I cannot wait to see his face when he finds out what has happened and learns he will have to call me brother.

Wickham

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, July 23

The end of the month, eh? Then you will need a week or two to get to Scotland and back, but by the middle of August, or the end of August at the latest, we will all be in clover.

Parker

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Ramsgate, July 28

Congratulate me, Matthew, for I have won the hand and the purse of Miss Darcy! Ah, life is good. I went to dinner there this evening and Belle left us alone on pretence of going to fetch her workbasket. Georgiana blushed very prettily and I satisfied every girlish dream, you can be sure. I told her how much I loved her and then I went down on one knee and proposed. Belle, who had been listening outside the door, came in at the right moment to hear our news and then congratulated Georgiana. ‘Oh, this is wonderful news! You were made to be with each other! Just like my good, dear Stephen and me. Oh, the happy times we had together from the moment we met to all the magic of our wedding in Scotland, to all the happy years we had together until he died. I only hope you two young people can have the same,’ she said.

At this I appeared much struck, and said, ‘Why should we not go to Scotland?’ I talked of the romance of it all and Georgiana, who has been encouraged to think of nothing else all month, was carried away with the idea. She hesitated only for a moment, thinking of her brother and worrying that he might not approve, but Belle rose to the occasion, saying that her family had thought it quite wonderful that she had eloped and had been full of admiration for her when she returned, praising her for following her dreams.

So take the best set of rooms at The White Hart, Matthew. No more Black Bull for us! No more living from hand to mouth or scraping along; there will be plenty for all.

Wickham

Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Ramsgate, July 29

A note in haste. It is all up with me. Darcy is here. He arrived unexpectedly, d——n him, and foiled the elopement. What’s more, he understood Belle’s part in the scheme at once and dismissed her. He was in a towering rage, and only his sympathy for his sister and his desire to comfort her prevented him from pursuing me at once.

Belle and I are leaving Ramsgate together within the hour. Cancel the rooms at The White Hart, or play out the charade by pretending your wealthy friend will be arriving imminently, whichever you please, but do not expect to see us in London this month. We have nothing to live on but what we have on our persons, and we will have to find some cheap hole to hide in. God knows what we will live on when the money runs out.

Wickham

AUGUST

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Darcy House, London, August 2

Henry, are you still at Rosings? If so, find out all you can about Mrs Younge from my aunt. I must find her at once. She has proved to be a deceitful, scheming impostor—but you do not know all. And yet you must have it.

When Georgiana wrote to me about love and happiness and the future and old friends, I thought she meant nothing more than that she was enjoying her holiday, that she felt secure in my love, and that she had by chance met someone from Derbyshire. Little did I know she meant something quite different.

When I found myself with a free couple of days, on account of having finished some business more quickly than I expected, I went down to Ramsgate to pay her a visit before the appointed time. Thank God I did! For I found her about to elope with George Wickham.

Was there ever anything more villainous than his determined seduction of such an innocent girl? And the whole thing was cynically done, of course, with a view to persuading her to elope with him, whereupon he would become the master of her fortune.

He could not have done it without the help of Mrs Younge. I soon discovered that she and Wickham knew each other and that she was responsible for inviting Wickham to the house. It was child’s play for her to encourage Georgiana’s romantic notions and encourage my sister to see Wickham as a romantic hero.

Georgiana, poor girl, is heartbroken, and no wonder: the villain can make himself very agreeable when he chooses. He is handsome and charming and he knows how to make women admire him. He deliberately sought her out in Ramsgate and presented himself as a respectful and attentive cavalier who flattered her gently, bought her gifts, took her on outings, reminisced about their happy childhoods and expected nothing in return. What girl of fifteen could resist such a determined assault? He so worked upon her that she quite forgot it was wrong to run away, and thought instead it was romantic. It was not until she saw me that the glamour was broken, and she came to herself. She remembered the worry it would cause her family to find that she had gone, and remembered, too, that it would ruin her reputation.

That was Wickham’s hope, of course: that once he had ruined her reputation, I would do anything to prevent the knowledge of her ruin becoming known; that I would recognise the marriage and disguise its beginnings; in short, that I would welcome him into the family for the sake of appearances. He would then have everything he wanted: a wealthy wife, an indissoluble connection with the Darcy family and his revenge upon me.

The latter, I am sure, was his chief motive. Revenge. He has never forgiven me for refusing to give him the living my father promised him. He conveniently forgot that he did not want it; that he asked me for money instead; that I gave it to him, knowing him to be unsuited to the church; and that he had willingly given up all claims upon it. Only when he had spent the money and found himself with nothing to live on did he remember the living, and try to claim it.

And now he has had his revenge.

Although, not quite. Thanks to Providence I was able to save Georgiana, and she is now upset and ashamed, but otherwise unhurt. In time, I hope, she will come to see it as a lucky escape, although at the moment her sense of relief is mingled with regret at what she has lost: a handsome suitor who engaged her affections and promised her a lifetime of bliss.

Once I find him, I mean to make him pay for what he has done and to this end I need your help. Find out everything you can about Mrs Younge, for where she is, Wickham will not be far behind.

Darcy

Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy

Fitzwilliam House, London,

August 4

Darcy! I was appalled by your last. I discovered Mrs Younge’s address in London and went there at once, intent on calling Wickham out, but the birds had flown. Let me know what you want to do. I am entirely at your disposal.

Henry

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Darcy House, London, August 5

I would call him out myself if I could find him. I have visited all his usual haunts but he has gone to ground. It is as well for him that he has. If he approaches Georgiana again, I will ruin him. She is devastated, poor child. She is pale and wan, and weeps at the slightest provocation. She has no appetite and she wanders the corridors of Darcy House, unable to settle to anything. Her painting lies untouched and she never sits down at the pianoforte without rising again a minute later with a heartfelt sigh.

I am doing my best to cheer her, taking her out and about to all her favourite places and doing everything I can think of for her pleasure, but she remains downcast. I hope you will help me to raise her spirits, before she goes into a decline.

Darcy

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Miss Anne de Bourgh

Darcy House, London,

August 15

Dearest Anne,

I must tell someone, though I have to swear you to secrecy, but I know I can trust you. I am so ashamed and so unhappy I do not know where to turn. My brother and guardian are both very kind, but I miss a woman to talk to. I had Mrs Younge, but now she has gone, and oh, Anne, I am so miserable. I have been very wrong and done something dreadful but even though it is all to be hushed up so that no one will ever know, I must have someone to tell. I have been in Ramsgate, as you know, but what you do not know is that I met George Wickham there. You know how charming he is and how handsome. He was kind to me when we were children and he was friendly to me in Ramsgate, and then more than friendly. Oh, always respectful! Never a hint of anything improper, unless it was to woo me without the consent of my brother. I did not know what he was doing to begin with, even now I can scarcely say when his friendship ended and his wooing began, but before I knew it I was falling in love with him. Mrs Younge smiled on the attachment, telling me of her own romantic past when she eloped with her husband and everyone said how much they admired her for following her heart. And all the while she was in league with Wickham and they were only after my fortune. My brother has dismissed her and is trying to find me a new companion, but it is a matter of indifference to me whether I have one or not. He is trying to cheer me by giving me his time and his company, but his kindness only makes me feel worse.

Oh, how could I have been so foolish! And, oh, Anne, how can I live without him; for without George the world is empty and dull. I wish, how I wish, his love had been real, for mine was heartfelt. You will think me very foolish I know, but I cannot help it. Even now I love him.

Tell no one, I beseech you.

Georgiana

Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, August 17

My darling Georgiana, how I feel for you! I do not think you foolish at all, for if Mama had not separated me from George in Bath, I think I would have fallen in love with him myself, had I not already been…And hearing your story, it is clear to me that he was hunting a rich wife even then. What a villain, to use you so! But you are lucky, Georgiana, though you cannot see it: you have escaped the clutches of a man who is not worthy of you. No scoundrel deserves your love, only a good and honest man, and there will be many, many men who will fall in love with you—you, who are so good and lovely—and who will care nothing for your fortune.

Your letter, I suppose, explains why Henry left us so suddenly. He received a letter from Darcy and then made some excuse about business and went at once. Your brother will find you a new companion, depend upon it, someone you can trust, and you know, dearest cousin, that you can always write to me.

I am sending you my love, my dearest Georgiana.

Your devoted cousin,

Anne

Miss Georgiana Darcy to Miss Anne de Bourgh

Darcy House, London, August 23

Dearest Anne,

Your letter heartened me and made me feel that I was not so alone. I am feeling a little better than the last time I wrote, and a little more able to see things clearly. The memory of George’s charm is fading and what remains is not so pleasant to think of.

My brother has found me a new companion, as you knew he would. It was Cousin Henry who recommended her; she had been with a family he has known intimately for many years. My brother went to see her last week and looked into her background most carefully, speaking with all her employers and her family, too. He feels to blame for appointing Mrs Younge without examining her account of herself, and he has been determined not to make the same mistake again. I know, because I heard him and Cousin Henry talking about me. I have been a troublesome ward, I fear.

Mrs Annesley arrived a few days ago and she is very genteel and agreeable. I think I will like her. Fitzwilliam has suggested I invite a friend to stay as he has to go away for a while in order to help his friend Mr Bingley look for an estate to rent. I know that Mr Bingley has arranged to see three properties in the coming weeks. One is in Cheshire, one is in Staffordshire and one is in Hertfordshire. I hope he finds something to suit him; I know that Caroline and Louisa would like their brother to have an estate.

Your affectionate cousin,

Georgiana

SEPTEMBER

Miss Caroline Bingley to Mrs Bingley

London, September 1

Greetings and felicitations, dearest Mama.

We have seen nothing of Mr Darcy these last few weeks, but Georgiana is in London once more and I intend to visit her tomorrow. She is such a dear girl, and such a favourite with her brother. I have told Charles that he must invite her to his estate just as soon as he has one.

We went to see one in Cheshire last week but it was quite hopeless. The drive was very short and the drawing room was small and dark. We could not have possibly invited the Darcys to such a place.

Charles has made arrangements to see two further properties. We are to go to Staffordshire next week and then to Hertfordshire. I only hope we might find something suitable before the autumn.

Your dutiful daughter,

Caroline

Mr Charles Bingley to Mrs Bingley

London, September 13

Dear Mama,

You will be pleased to know that I have at last found an estate. I did not take Caroline or Louisa with me, since they criticise everything and upon my word nothing seems to please them. Instead I persuaded Darcy to accompany me.

I was shown around by a Mr Morris, a very fine fellow who praised the house and the grounds; however, Darcy spotted some difficulties and made sure they were resolved before I settled. And now I am to have the run of Netherfield Park.

You must come and see it at once, and bring my brothers and sisters. You are all very welcome to come and live with me if you have a fancy to it. I am planning to move in by Michaelmas.

Your loving son,

Charles

Mrs Bingley to Miss Caroline Bingley

Yorkshire, September 14

Well, my girl, your brother has written to me and told me all about this estate of his, and I’m coming to see it just as soon as I can. Now don’t you worry, your old ma won’t go getting in the way. I’ve the little ’uns to look after apart from anything else, but Ned is driving me down to take a look at the place.

Make sure you invite Mr Darcy straightaway—these fashionable gents get snapped up quick—and don’t forget to let your old ma know what’s going on.

Your doting Ma

Miss Caroline Bingley to Mr Darcy

London, September 15

Dear Mr Darcy,

We can never thank you enough for helping Charles to choose a house in the country. We are all beholden to you, and to show our gratitude we hope you will visit us as soon as we move in to Netherfield Park.

Do not, I beg you, refuse on the suspicion that you will have to mingle with the local burghers. Louisa and I will be there to provide you with the superior company to which you are accustomed. I dare say you will never have to speak to the people of Meryton at all, except to say, ‘Good morning,’ if you should be unlucky enough to come across them whilst taking the air.

Hertfordshire is a pretty country, I hear. I am longing to see it! And Netherfield, Charles says, is a very fine house. Not as fine as Pemberley, I am sure, but then, what house is? For Pemberley, as I frequently say to Charles, is the epitome of a gentleman’s residence, and I advise him constantly to model his own house upon it.

How happy we all were at Pemberley over the summer, before you returned to London. I am longing to see Georgiana again, and hear all about her trip to Ramsgate. I called upon her recently but she was out.

Dear Georgiana! How I dote on her. Her manners are sweet and engaging, exactly what a young lady’s manners should be. How I loved to see her dancing at Pemberley, at the private balls. They were just the right sort of entertainment for her, introducing her to local society and allowing her to see how men and women of fashion behave. Most of all, allowing her to see some very superior dancing.

You yourself excel at the accomplishment, and I flatter myself that the partner with whom you opened the last ball was not deficient in her skills. It was very good of you to ask me to open the ball with you, though it gave rise to so much speculation that I was quite embarrassed by it all. I did not know where to look when your neighbour, Lord Sundy, said how well matched we were, and when his wife said there would be wedding bells at Pemberley before long, I am sure I must have blushed.

Georgiana, too, remarked that Pemberley needs a mistress. I am sure you would find it a help if you were able to leave the running of the household, and the care of your younger sister, to a wife, as long as the woman you chose was as fond of dear Georgiana as I am. I declare, I love her as much as I love Louisa, and you know my sister and I are very close. It is such a comfort for a woman to have another woman to talk to, and I think I may say, as your friend, that it would do Georgiana good to have some company from one of her equals. Mrs Younge is all very well, but a companion is only a companion, and can never be to a young girl what a sister can be.

But I must not lecture you. I am sure you will choose an estimable young woman to fill the role of Mrs Darcy when you are ready, and I can assure you that your friends would like nothing better than to see you happily settled. Who knows? Perhaps you will find your Mrs Darcy waiting for you when you visit us at Netherfield!

Do say you will stay with us. Charles would like nothing better, and Louisa and I quite depend upon it. It is our chance to repay you for all the hospitality you have shown us over the years. I am so glad that at last Charles has an estate of his own.

Sincerely yours,

Caroline Bingley

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

September 14

My dear Aunt Gardiner,

Netherfield Park is empty no longer! I am sorry for Susan, as I know she hoped for a last-minute miracle, but I must also admit to being curious about our new neighbours. There has been talk of nothing else for days. According to Mama, who has been gossiping with Mrs Long, the house has been taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England, a Mr Bingley. This is very pleasing to Mama, as you might imagine, for she has already married Jane off to him in her imagination, even though she does not know yet if he is single or married.

What is less pleasing to her is that Papa is refusing to visit Mr Bingley when he arrives. Mama teases him about it constantly, but he will not be moved. He says that Mr Bingley might call upon him if he pleases, but that he has no intention of being the first to pay the call. This has put Mama out of all countenance, for of course we cannot visit Mr Bingley until we have been introduced.

Jane and I have tried to console her by saying that one of our neighbours will perform the introduction at the Meryton assembly, but she refuses to be comforted, saying that Mrs Long is a hypocritical woman with two nieces and will therefore not introduce us. And even if these obstacles could be overcome—if Mrs Long were to suddenly become the kindest woman on earth and her two nieces were to become betrothed, or die, before the ball—it would still not answer, for Mrs Long will be away and will only return the day before the ball; therefore she will not have time to come to know him herself.

I dare say we will become acquainted with Mr Bingley sooner or later, whatever Mama thinks, since it is hardly possible we can be neighbours for any length of time without coming to know each other. Whether the acquaintance will be as welcome to her once it has been made I do not know, since it is almost impossible to find out anything for certain about Mr Bingley. This, however, does not stop the rumours. Almost everyone is sure they have heard something about him. Some say that he has three brothers, others that he has three sisters. He is, according to different informants, handsome, tolerably handsome and not at all handsome; temperamental, affable and condescending; a sportsman, an intellectual and a hermit. In height he is tall, medium and short; in figure he is portly, emaciated and spare.

However, we will have to wait until Michaelmas to find out for ourselves because he does not move into the Park before then.

Your loving niece,

Lizzy

Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Bath, September 25

Dearest Lizzy,

You will have heard by now that we have found a tenant for Netherfield Park, which has provoked different feelings in us all. Mama is relieved, because now, at least, some of the worst of our debts can be paid, whilst Papa is affronted at the idea of strangers living in our ancestral home, even though it is his own folly that has forced us to leave. My brothers and sisters are sad and angry in equal measure, and I must now become resigned to it. I must confess, I kept hoping against hope that Papa would see the error of his ways and stop drinking and gambling overnight, or that Mama would inherit a fortune from a hitherto unsuspected great-uncle, and that we could all return to Netherfield. But alas! It is not to be. Papa drinks as much as ever, though he gambles less, and unsuspected great-uncles are in short supply.

And so Netherfield has really gone and we will not be able to return there for at least a year, as that is the length of the lease. We know nothing about the man who has taken it yet, and I rely on you and Charlotte for the news. Papa takes very little interest in the affair and his man of business will talk to no one else.

We are settled in Bath for the autumn. It is cheaper to live here than anywhere else, at least with any pretence of gentility, and we will probably spend the winter here, too. After that, who can say?

Write to me soon, dearest Lizzy.

With fondest wishes,

Susan

OCTOBER

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

October 1

Alas for unsuspected great-uncles: they are in short supply here, too. I am sure if we could find one, Mama would not be quite so eager to marry us to every man she meets. She has already decided that your new tenant will marry Jane. Poor Mr Bingley! He has hardly moved into the neighbourhood, and already he is considered as the rightful property of one or other of us.

But what is he like, you ask? I can answer that question. You will be pleased to know that he is a single gentleman and that he has a fortune of four or five thousand pounds a year. I hear that his money comes from trade, but we will not hold that against him.

Papa called on him as soon as he arrived, despite telling Mama that he would not go, and Mr Bingley returned Papa’s call yesterday. We were not downstairs, but Lydia called to us as soon as she heard his horse and we managed to catch a glimpse of him from an upstairs window. There was much jostling for position as Lydia and Kitty pushed each other aside, first one gaining the prime spot and then the other, whilst Mary quoted a sermon on the beauties of sisterly self-sacrifice and the evils of the flesh.

Despite Lydia and Kitty’s jostling, Jane and I managed to see him clearly and so I can also tell you that he is young and good-looking, that he rides a black horse and wears a blue coat. What more could you want? For if such a mode of dress and transportation does not declare an amiable disposition, I do not know what does.

However, if you press me for more, I will say that Mama asked him to dine with us and that he declined her invitation as he was obliged to be in town on business. Mama was afraid it meant that he would always be flying about, but as soon as it emerged that he was only going to town to gather a large party together for the assembly, she was content. For you know that an eagerness to attend the assembly means an eagerness to dance, and a fondness of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love.

Alas! for the young women of Meryton: Lady Lucas declared that he would be bringing twelve ladies as well as seven gentlemen to the assembly; however, Mrs Long says it is to be only six ladies, which means that instead of drowning us under a surfeit of ladies, the assembly will give us an overall addition of one gentleman.

The only thing that could make me look forward to the assembly more would be your presence, but I comfort myself with the thought that you have settled in Bath, that it is full of entertainments and so you will not be dull.

Write to me soon.

Lizzy

P.S. Mary is including a letter for your sister.

Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

October 1

Most noble Friend,

From all I have read, to lose a friend is one of the chief ills that can befall a young woman, but we must pour into each other’s bosoms the balm of consolation and take courage from an exchange of scholarly letters. You and I, dear Lucy, were the only Learned Women in the neighbourhood and now that you are gone, I am the only one. I am determined not to let that prevent me from rational application and I have drawn up a plan of improvement for the coming autumn. I hope, dear friend, you have done the same.

However, it has met with little encouragement at home.

When I announced that I intended to spend four hours a day sewing blankets for the needy, Mama said that I had better sew blankets for our family, as we will soon be needy ourselves. ‘If not for the entail, I should encourage you to help the poor,’ she said, ‘but once an entail is involved, there is no knowing what might happen. As soon as your father dies we will all be turned out of our home and we will need those blankets because we will all be sleeping under the hedgerows.’

I explained to her again about the entail, but she was adamant that it was a deceitful invention, designed to cheat her out of what was rightfully hers.

This is not an easy house in which to be a Learned Woman, for there is no possibility of the exchange of rational or intellectual ideas.

At last I abandoned the attempt to explain the entail to her and continued to enumerate my plans, saying that I intended to devote four hours a day to learning a new instrument. Lydia said that I could not even play the pianoforte and that she would go mad if she had to listen to me learning to play the harp.

As you know, dear Lucy, Lydia is a Philistine. However, she only laughed when I said so, and danced around the room, saying, ‘Phyllis Stein, Phyllis Stein, Lord! What a lark! Kitty, you must not call me Lydia from now on, my new name is Phyllis Stein.’

I did not let this daunt me, and merely remarked that I intend to spend four hours a day practising the pianoforte as well. I will, of course, ignore Mama when she comes into the room after ten minutes and says, ‘What is all that noise? Really, Mary, have some compassion on my poor nerves,’ and I will also ignore my younger sisters when they laugh at me and tell me to play a jig.

It is not easy to be a Learned Women in such a wilderness of ignorance. If not for Mr Shackleton, I do not know what I would do. He at least is capable of rational conversation and deep thinking on important subjects. He agreed with me when I said that preludes are of great intellectual beauty, whereas there is no intellectual value in a jig. I have promised him I will write a maxim on the subject.

It is also my intention to spend four hours a day in rational conversation, but this is impossible since Mr Shackleton is engaged in my uncle’s office and no one at Longbourn House is capable of such a thing. Mama can talk of nothing except Mr Bingley and his five thousand a year whilst Kitty and Lydia can think of nothing but bonnets. Jane is a sweet girl but not even her best friend could accuse her of being a Woman of Brain, and Elizabeth confuses Levity with Wit.

Mr Shackleton agreed with me when I said as much at my aunt and uncle Philips’s house this evening. Although he is only my uncle’s clerk, he shows great signs of intelligence and I believe his friendship to be worth cultivating. Mr Shackleton also believes that our friendship is worth pursuing.

Shakespeare said: Friendship is constant.

Goldsmith said: Friendship is a disinterested commerce between equals.

I have copied these maxims into my book of extracts. I have also composed a maxim of my own: There is nothing so pure as friendship.

Mr Shackleton was much taken with it, and I told him he had my permission to copy it into his book of extracts.

And, lest I ruin my body in my pursuit of mental excellence, I announced that I intend to spend four hours a day in healthful exercise.

Elizabeth said that if I carried out all my resolutions they would amount to twenty hours of useful activity every day and when would I sleep? I replied that I was willing to sacrifice a few hours’ sleep every night in order to preserve my position as the most accomplished young lady of the neighbourhood.

Write to me with your own plan of improvement, and we will sustain each other by showering each other’s souls with the balm of true companionship.

Adieu!

Mary

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

October 2

Philip, I am staying with Bingley at present, but there is no need to address your correspondence to Netherfield as the Pemberley staff have instructions to send all my letters to me here until I return. Although I feel duty bound to remain with Bingley for a month or two, so that he can return my hospitality, the neighbourhood bores me. The countryside is featureless and the people have nothing interesting to say. They have been trooping into the house all week, examining us as though we were exhibits in a zoo, and I dare say to them we must seem as exotic, for there is not one person of fashion amongst them. There is, instead, the newly knighted Sir William Lucas, who has become suddenly fastidious and given up his previous occupations in favour of talking all day long about his presentation at St. James’s. There is his daughter, Charlotte, the local spinster, who, at twenty-seven, is the despair of her younger brothers and sisters, and there is Mrs Long, the neighbourhood gossip.

When they invited us to the local assembly, I was just about to say that we could not attend when Bingley eagerly accepted. You know what Bingley is: he is as friendly and outgoing as a puppy and it was impossible to stop him. He did not care a bit that he might be mixing with the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker; he thought only to make himself agreeable to his new neighbours. So now we must endure an evening of mortification and punishment as the local burghers ogle our clothes and whisper about our fortunes.

But I do not think we will be in Hertfordshire very long, for despite his willingness to attend the assembly, Bingley does not seem settled. He has already gone to London for the day. Not even a dinner invitation from one of his new neighbours could detain him, even though the Bennets have five reputedly pretty daughters, and you know how susceptible he is to a pretty face. I would not be surprised if he quits Netherfield before Christmas, once the novelty of having his own estate has worn off. That will suit me very well, for winter in such a place as this would be insupportable.

If you have a spare moment, call on Georgiana, will you? I know you are soon to be in town. She is always pleased to see you and you will be delighted with her. It is only a few months since you last saw her, but you will find her much grown.

Darcy

Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy

London, October 4

I took Georgiana to the museum this afternoon as you requested and then entertained her to tea. You will be glad to know that she is well and happy and she sends you her love. She has been taking advantage of the fine weather to ride in the park, and Ullswater goes with her. I was pleased to see that Ullswater has reached a steady age and no longer runs off after every rabbit that pops out of a hole. Georgiana has done some very pretty sketches of the Thames and she has presented me with a monogrammed handkerchief, stitched with her own hand. I will call on her often, as I have decided to spend the winter in town. When you have had enough of humouring Bingley, I hope to see you here.

PD

Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, October 13

Dearest Georgiana,

We have had a visit from Philip and he tells us that he has seen you and that you are looking well. I am glad to hear it. I suggested to Mama that you should come and stay with us here, but she is entertaining herself with Mr Collins at present and has no need of any further diversion. He is the new rector of Hunsford, you know, and she is keeping herself busy by telling him how to manage his affairs. He is very grateful to her for her advice, and Mama has always liked gratitude so she invited him to dine a few days ago, that they might both continue to enjoy themselves. He remarked, not for the first time, that I seemed born to be a duchess, and I had to hide a smile behind my napkin. It is his idea of delicate flattery, I suppose, but I cannot altogether blame him, for Mama likes flattery as much as she likes gratitude.

We made up a pool of quadrille in the evening but it was not entirely satisfactory, so Mama hit upon the notion of providing us with some more company by telling Mr Collins that he should marry. He was dumbfounded, poor man, but it was useless for him to protest and five minutes later he was thanking Mama for her kind condescension. Indeed, he said he had often thought of marrying and that he meant to do so as soon as the parsonage was ready to receive a wife.

Mama was not one to accept this as a reason for delay and so she visited him yesterday in his parsonage and told him that, once he had put some shelves in the closets upstairs, the parsonage would be ready. I pity Mr Collins, for Mama means to have him married before the year is out.

He confided in me later that he was very willing to follow Mama’s wishes, but that he did not know exactly where to find a wife. I could see that the matter troubled him and so I suggested he go to his cousins, for he has mentioned them on more than one occasion. They live in Hertfordshire and because they have no sons, only five daughters, they will be in some difficulties when their father dies, if they should not happen to marry, for the estate is entailed on Mr Collins.

He thought this a happy suggestion, for it would provide him with a wife and a means of doing good at the same time; and I think he is also not averse to the idea that his wife will likely be grateful to him. Indeed, I suspect that he likes gratitude as much as Mama does.

Whether his wife will be able to provide it for him as well as he provides it for his patroness remains to be seen.

But enough of my affairs. Tell me how you went on with your friend. Are you getting along with Mrs Annesley? And how is Mr Bingley liking his estate?

Your affectionate cousin,

Anne

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

October 13

Thank you for your kindness to Georgiana. I would like nothing better than to join you in town, as our time here grows ever more irritating. The assembly was even worse than I had expected. Bingley was happy, of course, particularly as he spent the evening dancing with Miss Bennet, the only pretty girl in the room, but there was no one I cared to stand up with, and as an assembly ball has no other purpose but dancing, the evening was tedious in the extreme. Bingley tried to tempt me to dance with one of Miss Bennet’s sisters, saying that Miss Elizabeth, too, was a pretty girl. But although she was tolerable she was not handsome enough to tempt me, and besides, I was in no mood to give consequence to young ladies who were slighted by other men. I rather think she might have overheard me saying so to Bingley, which added to my ill humour, for of course I had not intended it. I danced with Caroline at last as a means of keeping boredom and irritation at bay; she, at least, dances well. She made her new neighbours the subject of her sharp wit and whilst Bingley said that he had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls, and called Miss Bennet an angel, Caroline was more clear-sighted and laughed at the Bennets en masse. Mrs Bennet was excessively vulgar, the youngest two girls were common flirts and Miss Mary Bennet was almost worse, for despite being described as the most accomplished young lady in the neighbourhood she displayed neither talent, skill nor taste.

Caroline and Louisa allowed Miss Bennet to be a sweet girl, however, which did not surprise me, for they must have some company whilst they are here and there is no one else they could tolerate.

Remember me to your parents, and your brothers and sisters,

Darcy

Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy

Wiltshire, October 14

What a time you have been having! But that is what comes of befriending a man whose fortune comes from trade. Lady Catherine feels the same. She is in town for a few days, having just returned from Cumbria, where she has been visiting her brother. Anne did not go with her, not being well enough. It says much about my aunt’s new rector that she felt she could leave him alone in the neighbourhood with Anne, for she seems convinced of his probity and his respect. He is a very worthy young man, she tells me, ‘though in need of a wife,’ she remarked, ‘for we are short of a fourth when we play cards.’ It is not perhaps the best reason for marriage, but for my aunt it suffices. It seems to suffice for Mr Collins, too. I hope the woman he chooses is of a practical temperament, for her sake, and that she has a strong yet pliant character: living close to Lady Catherine will not be easy for a young woman, newly married, unless she has those qualities.

PD

Mr Collins to Mr Bennet

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

October 15

Dear Sir,

The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.

My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of goodwill are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends—but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday sennight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.

I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,

William Collins

Mrs Gardiner to Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Gracechurch Street, London,

October 18

Dear Lizzy,

I have had such a strange and garbled letter from your mama that I thought I ought to write to you and find out the meaning of it. She says that Mr Bingley is on the point of marrying Jane. Is your sister really on the point of marriage, or is it one of your mama’s speculations? And does your mama really like Mr Bingley? At first I thought so, for she called him the most agreeable young man of her acquaintance, and then, not two minutes later, she called him disagreeable. She also declared that he loved dancing and then went on to say that he did not dance at all. Perhaps you will be able to explain this paragraph to me:

We are all in raptures over Mr Bingley. He is the pleasantest young man imaginable, so affable and keen to please and be pleased, I am quite delighted with him! And dance! He danced all night long, and almost every dance with Jane. I am sure I am not surprised, for everyone knows my girls are the finest girls in the neighbourhood, and if he does not think so, then he has only himself to blame. Everyone is agreed that he is the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world and if he does not choose to dance, then, if I were her, I would choose not to dance with him next time.

Pray tell me, Lizzy, what does it mean?

Your affectionate aunt,

Margaret

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

October 20

My dear Aunt Gardiner,

It is really very simple: two young men have moved into the neighbourhood. The first, Mr Bingley, as you know, has rented Netherfield Park. The second, Mr Darcy, is his friend. Mr Bingley is affable and agreeable and although he has not had time to propose to Jane yet, he has at least made a good start by dancing with her twice at the Meryton assembly. Jane, in turn, likes him very well, and I do not object to it, for I am sure she has liked many a stupider young man. She declares him just what a young man ought to be: sensible, good-humoured and lively, with easy manners and perfect good breeding. She has only known him a week, but already I think she is falling in love with him. Mama is convinced he is on the brink of proposing, for when has she ever neglected to see a certainty of a marriage where anyone else would see nothing but a preference? And yet I will say this: it is generally evident whenever they meet that he admires her, and that Jane is yielding to her initial preference, so perhaps Mama is not so far from the truth this time, after all.

Mr Darcy, on the other hand, is the opposite of his friend. He is haughty, reserved and above his company. He is the kind of man who will always be well liked at first, for he is handsome, with a fine figure and ten thousand a year; but not all his estate in Derbyshire could save him from being discovered to be proud and disagreeable when he talked only to members of his own party, and declined being introduced to any other young lady in the room.

And here I must say that I have more reason than most to dislike him, because he slighted my attractions in a very public manner. He committed the grievous sin of refusing to dance with me, even though gentlemen were scarce and I was without a partner, and his friend Mr Bingley urged him to. But I dare say I will live, even though I am not handsome enough to tempt Mr Darcy. Yes, dear aunt, he did indeed say those very words, much to the consternation of poor Mr Bingley, who did not know what to reply; and much to the disgust of Mama. I am beginning to wish I had never told her about it, for although I told it as a joke against myself, she has used it as an excuse to be rude to him ever since.

You will be pleased to know that, despite this, we are all well. Mama complains constantly about her nerves—when she is not planning Jane’s wedding or wishing Mr Darcy away from Meryton—but they are quickly forgotten when she has anything more agreeable to think of.

Papa continues to be amused by everything, including Mama. He had a letter from Kent the other morning which produced great mirth, but he has not yet told us what it contained. I hope he will let us in on the joke by and by.

Kitty and Lydia spend all their time visiting my aunt Philips and buying new bonnets whenever their allowance makes it possible.

Mary is as studious as ever. Her book of extracts is almost full and she has plans to embark on a second volume.

Give my love to my uncle and my cousins.

Your affectionate

Lizzy

Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton

Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,

October 27

Dear Susan,

You have asked for more information about the new tenant of Netherfield Park, and you shall have it. Elizabeth has no doubt told you about the assembly ball, where Mr Bingley was the wonder of the evening, new neighbours being rare in this part of the world. I only wish his presence here were not at your expense, for you are sorely missed.

Mr Bingley is fond of company and prefers to spend time with his neighbours instead of with his horses and his dogs as so many men do. He drinks very little and shows no interest in games of chance, save as a means of being agreeable at parties. I must confess I find it refreshing. After living with so many brothers who can think of little but their hounds and their bottle, it is a relief to find someone who likes conversation and dancing. You will remember Alfred, my youngest brother, of course. He is only twelve but already he shows signs of following my other brothers in their favourite pursuits. His favourite occupation at the moment is bragging about how much wine he would drink and how many hounds he would keep if he were as rich as Mr Darcy. Unfortunately, he embarked on his usual bragging when we visited the Bennets and Mrs Bennet was not wise enough to let it pass. Instead she spent the visit arguing with him and so it went, back and forth, with her saying that she would take the bottle away from him if she saw him with it and he saying that she should not.

But there, I have said nothing of Mr Darcy yet. He is Mr Bingley’s friend, though how two such dissimilar men came to be friends I cannot imagine. Mr Darcy is sullen where his friend is lively; aloof where Mr Bingley is friendly; and superior where Mr Bingley is affable. He gave everyone a disgust of him at the assembly, and half of Meryton wishes he would go back to Derbyshire, where apparently he has a very fine estate. No doubt opinion of him would change if he showed any interest in one of the neighbourhood beauties, but he is far too superior for that. He talks only to Mr Bingley’s sisters, who are handsome and fashionable women. The rest of us are beneath his notice.

Mr Bingley, though, seems ready to fall in love. He is very attentive to Jane Bennet. I am sure I hope it might come to something, for it would be a very good match for her. I am persuaded that she would be as happy as anyone ever is in marriage. I am not romantic, you know, and if a good man showed half as much interest in me as Mr Bingley is showing in Jane, I would have no difficulty in encouraging him. His wife will have a comfortable home, she will be respectable, and in addition she will have a husband who has no flaws for her to be ashamed of.

I have told Elizabeth that she should use her influence with Jane and advise her sister to show more interest in him, but Elizabeth is romantic and thinks that Jane needs more time to truly understand Mr Bingley’s character. I cannot agree with her. Jane and Mr Bingley have spent four evenings together, and if she were married tomorrow, I should think Jane had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character a twelvemonth. But it is no good. Elizabeth is content to let them go on as they are, and Jane has such a composed manner that Mr Bingley will never guess at her feelings unless she does or says something to make him understand.

It is a pity. It is clear that he likes her, and if she would only do something to help him on, I believe he would make her an offer. But otherwise I fear it will come to nothing. He is an unassuming young man, unaware of his own attractions, and he will not have the courage to ask for her hand unless she gives him some sign that it would be welcome.

My own prospects for marriage are no better than they were when you went away. Although I am happy enough at home, I would like my own establishment, rather than having to live my life with Mama and Papa; but unless another young man just happens to arrive in the neighbourhood, I fear my chances are slim.

But what of you? Has Bath cured your father of his unfortunate propensities? Has it brought you any new acquaintance worth having? Write and tell me all your news.

Your friend,

Charlotte

NOVEMBER

Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 5

Most noble Friend,

My plans for improvement have already reaped me rich rewards and I hope that your own endeavours have been as well received. As you know—for you, dear Lucy, are of a similar mind—I am not inclined to waste my time in the frivolity of social engagements, but I was compelled by my mother to attend a gathering at Sir William Lucas’s house last night. She swept aside my arguments—for, not being a Learned Woman, she was unable to appreciate their potency—and said irritably, ‘I thought you would want to show off, you have been practising that piece long enough.’

I was much struck, for though her sentiment was badly expressed, it echoed my own feelings that I should indeed be sharing my accomplishments with the world. I therefore condescended to attend the gathering. I was amply rewarded, for when I succeeded my sister Elizabeth at the pianoforte, Mr Darcy listened to my concerto with a look of astonishment. He had obviously not expected such a high degree of excellence from a young woman in such a small town.

Alas! My sisters then demanded a jig and I was forced to accede to their wishes, though as I remarked to Mr Shackleton afterwards, ‘A jig might feed the body but a concerto feeds the soul.’

He was much struck and begged for permission to copy it into his book of extracts.

Lydia, Jane and Kitty danced for the rest of the evening, but I did not indulge in the activity. Elizabeth almost danced, for when Sir William saw that she was without a partner, he begged one for her, but it came to nothing. If Sir William had been a Learned Man, he would not have chosen Mr Darcy to be the object of his solicitations, for Mr Darcy had already said that he did not like to dance.

I believe that Mr Darcy and I have much in common. We share a love of music and, like Mr Darcy, I am not given to dancing. I think he had the right of it when he explained his aversion to the exercise by saying to Sir William, ‘Every savage can dance.’ I was much struck by the truth of it and I have copied it into my book of extracts.

Your friend,

Mary

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 5

My dear Susan,

I should not triumph in it, I know, but I had a chance of turning the tables on Mr Darcy when we were at the Lucases’ last night, thereby changing mortification to something far more satisfactory. Sir William, seeing me without a partner, entreated Mr Darcy to dance with me, and before Mr Darcy could refuse I replied coolly that I had no intention of dancing. Mr Darcy was confounded and my feelings were assuaged.

Jane’s evening was even more satisfactory than mine, as Mr Bingley continued to pay her attention of the most particular kind.

I truly believe he is falling in love with her, and he is so agreeable that I think he might even be worthy of her.

Mama is effusive in her praise of him already, and if he offers for Jane, then her joy will know no bounds. Poor Mr Bingley! I fear he does not know what awaits him.

Your friend,

Lizzy

Mrs Louisa Hurst to Mrs Bingley

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 12

Dear Mama,

We are now settled at Netherfield Park for the winter, it seems. Charles is very happy here, though Caroline and I are less so. The town is devoid of fashionable people and we have to make do with a strange assortment of neighbours. Mr Darcy is as bored as we are. He refused to dance at the first assembly and although he was nearly forced into it a few days ago, for the sake of politeness, it all came to nothing, for when Sir William Lucas tried to encourage him to dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, she refused him. I am not surprised. Sir William had all but begged a partner for her and no one with any spirit would have acquiesced. It did her no harm in Darcy’s opinion—quite the opposite. He was caught by her refusal and remarked later that she had fine eyes. If only Caroline would take a lesson from this, she might have a better chance of catching him, but she can never bear to refuse him anything. She was annoyed when he praised Miss Elizabeth, and she vented her feelings by teasing him about his forthcoming marriage. Mr Darcy said he knew she would be jumping to conclusions and he bore it all with perfect indifference. It made Caroline so jealous that for a week she would not invite Jane Bennet to dine with us, but fortunately she has now relented, though it is more because we are to be alone this evening, the gentlemen dining from home, than any lessening in her jealousy. She is writing a note to Miss Bennet now.

Your daughter,

Louisa

Miss Caroline Bingley to Miss Jane Bennet

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 12

My dear Friend,

If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.

Yours ever,

Caroline Bingley

Miss Kitty Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 12

Dear Ellie,

You will never guess! It is the most adorable thing! The town is full of officers! Yes, I know, is it not marvellous? They are all young and handsome and they wear bright red coats with brass buttons and they are so handsome you have never seen anything like it. Lydia and I go to my aunt’s every day and we meet them there all the time. We see them on the way there, too, and on the way back again. I wish you were here, there are so many officers we have enough and to spare. I hate to think of you in Bath with all the old people with gout and corns. Tell your Papa to hurry up and win his fortune back again and then you can come back to Netherfield—although no, not too soon, because Jane is going to marry Mr Bingley or so Mama says, so Mr Bingley must remain at Netherfield until that is accomplished. But once he and Jane are married, then you must come back and meet all the officers. Lydia and I are wild to see them every day. Papa says we are the two silliest girls in the country, and to be sure that put a dampener on my excitement for a minute, but then Mama said that we are very clever and I believe she has the right of it.

The colonel of the regiment is Colonel Forster and Mama says that if a smart young colonel with five or six thousand a year should want one of her daughters she would not say him nay. He used to be always at Miss Watson’s but they quarrelled and he does not go there so often now. Miss Watson does not mind, for she is besotted with Mr Robinson now. Lydia and I cannot understand it, and Lydia and Miss Watson have had a falling out about it. How can anyone like a man if he is not in a red coat? My aunt Philips says that now the colonel does not go to the Watsons’ he is very often to be met with in Clarke’s library. Lydia and I are wondering which of us he will pick, now that he is free again. Lydia thinks it will be her because she is the tallest, but I am the oldest. We are agreed that the other of us can have Captain Carter. We go to the library all the time and we are always changing our books but we never have time to read them. And now the officers are dining with Mr Bingley and we only found out because Jane has been invited to dine with Miss Bingley when the gentlemen are out. Mama thinks that that is unfortunate and I am sure I agree, for who would want to dine with Miss Bingley? But Jane has had to go. Mama sent her on horseback in the hope that it will rain and then Miss Bingley will have to ask her to stay overnight, so that Jane can see Mr Bingley in the morning. I wonder what he will have to say about the officers? I am quite wild to know what they talked about.

Love and kisses forever and ever,

Kitty

Miss Jane Bennet to Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 13

My dearest Lizzy,

I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and excepting a sore throat and headache there is not much the matter with me.

Yours affectionately,

Jane

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 13

My dear Aunt Gardiner,

You will be surprised to see from the letter heading that I am writing to you from Netherfield Park, and I am very much afraid that the reason is not a happy one. Jane was invited to dine with Miss Bingley and it came on to rain as she rode over to Netherfield. She took cold and was invited to stay the night. Mama was delighted, for it meant that Jane would be thrown together with Mr Bingley, though why she wanted that to happen I cannot imagine, since a red nose and red eyes are hardly conducive to courtship.

Poor Jane was very poorly this morning and sent a note to Longbourn to inform us of her indisposition. I walked to Netherfield at once to keep her company. My appearance caused a great deal of surprise. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst found it incredible that I should have walked so far, though it is only three miles, and I am convinced they held me in contempt for it. Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst said nothing, but Mr Darcy looked down his nose at me, no doubt censuring me as much as the ladies. But Mr Bingley was all warmth. I like him better and better each day. He was concerned for Jane and he welcomed me openly, saying he was glad I had come and, I am persuaded, meaning it.

Jane was feverish and the apothecary was sent for. He promised her some draughts and advised her to return to bed, which she did, and she has remained there ever since. When it was time for me to go, Jane was so upset that Miss Bingley invited me to stay the night, and a servant has been dispatched to Longbourn to give them the news and to bring back a supply of clothes.

Jane was too ill to leave her room at dinnertime and I declared that I would not go downstairs, but she pressed me, saying that I must eat. I saw the sense of it but I would much rather have stayed with Jane, for I spent an uncomfortable evening. Miss Bingley and her sister made a few enquiries as to Jane’s health but soon forgot her. Mr Hurst asked me a few questions about my favourite food and when he discovered that I preferred a plain dish to a ragout he had nothing more to say. Mr Darcy was engrossed by Miss Bingley, who evidently has designs on him, for she flattered his library, his house, his sister and indeed anything else she could think of that was connected with him. She echoed all his sentiments and enlarged them wonderfully. Where Mr Bingley can see nothing but good in everyone and everything, his sister and Mr Darcy can see nothing but what needs criticising: Mr Bingley is amazed that young ladies—all of them!—can be so accomplished, netting purses and painting tables and covering screens. Mr Darcy, on the other hand, knows only half a dozen accomplished young ladies, and his faithful assistant was quick to agree, saying that a lady must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages, as well as possessing something in her tone of voice, her way of walking and her expressions, to deserve the word. Mr Darcy was not even satisfied with this, but added that she must also improve her mind by extensive reading. When I remarked that I wondered he knew any accomplished young ladies, he regarded me with a look of contempt, and Miss Bingley did likewise. They make a delightful pair, both of them puffed up with their own importance and conceit. I am sure I hope they marry quickly, for two people who are better suited to each other would be hard to imagine. They can then indulge their love of criticising everyone else until the end of their days.

Mr Bingley was genuinely concerned about Jane and asked about her repeatedly. He did everything in his power to make the time pass pleasantly for me and I left the room in the end feeling that I would be very happy to have him as a brother-in-law.

Jane is sleeping now and I, too, will soon be going to bed, so for now, adieu.

Your affectionate niece,

Lizzy

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 13

Henry, I hear you are in London and so I will send you this in the hope it reaches you before you return to your regiment. I am staying with Bingley in Hertfordshire and I have met a friend of yours, a Colonel Forster, who is stationed nearby. He asks to be remembered to you. He is good company and seems resigned to spending his time with the militia in Meryton rather than fighting abroad, but perhaps this is because there seems to be a lady in the case, a Miss Watson who lives in Meryton. Whether it is a serious thing or not I cannot tell, but for the time being, at least, it makes him glad to be here.

If not for the military presence, our stay would be dull and boring. Like every other country neighbourhood, Meryton offers a confined and unvarying society. Bingleys’ sisters occupy themselves as best they can with Miss Bennet, one of Bingley’s neighbours, but they have little choice since she is the only tolerable young lady in the neighbourhood. At present she is indisposed, having taken cold when she rode over here to dine, and so they are deprived of even that small companionship; for although Miss Bennet is still at Netherfield, being too ill to remove, she remains confined to her room.

Miss Bennet’s sister is here, also, but Miss Elizabeth is not a favourite with Caroline and Louisa. They find her pert, and they amuse themselves at her expense by mocking her country habits. Miss Elizabeth, however, is not downcast; indeed, she seems to go out of her way to be different to the common herd. When she learnt of her sister’s illness, she walked three miles to see her and arrived here with muddy petticoats. What is more, she did not seem to be the least bit ashamed of them. You may imagine what a torrent of ridicule this brought forth from Caroline as soon as Miss Elizabeth left the room, although I could not help noticing that, despite the state of her petticoat, Miss Elizabeth’s eyes had been brightened by the exercise.

This, if nothing else, will convince you of the paucity of company to be found here, for not only did I notice Miss Elizabeth’s eyes, I found myself attracted by them. In any other company, I am persuaded that I would not have given her a second glance. But she has a certain naturalness of demeanour and an independent spirit that make her something of a mystery to me. She seems to have no desire to attract my attention and is indifferent to my esteem. I must admit I find this intriguing, and if not for her vulgar family, I believe I would take some pains to know her better. But they are really beneath my notice. One uncle is a solicitor in the nearby town and the other lives in Cheapside. The mother is even worse than the uncles. She has taken against me because of an unfortunate remark which was never intended to be overheard, and she has not the wit to see that she makes herself ridiculous by her prejudice.

She paid us a visit today, to see her daughter and judge for herself the severity of Miss Bennet’s fever, but finding her in no danger, she graced us with more of her presence than was necessary or desirable, and encouraged her younger daughters to beg Bingley for a ball. He is too good-natured to say no to anyone and so he has promised them that he will hold one just as soon as Miss Bennet is well again. Miss Lydia then remarked that, after Bingley’s ball, she would persuade the officers to hold one. I have warned your friend Forster of it, but he just laughed and said that she is young and he has no objection to a ball now and again.

Bingley sees nothing wrong with Miss Bennet’s low connections, but as his sisters so rightly point out, it makes it impossible for the Bennet sisters to marry men of consequence. Caroline fears his attachment to Miss Bennet, for he declares her to be an angel and the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. He has seen very few young ladies, however, and will, in time, find someone more suitable to marry. In fact, I believe he would make a suitable husband for Georgiana when she comes of age, and if they show a preference for each other, it is one I mean to encourage.

Luckily, Miss Bennet is improving daily and it will not be long before she returns home. I will be glad of it, for her sister will go with her and we will be left to ourselves again. Caroline and Louisa wish it, too. They like their friend well enough, but find it tiresome to have a sick person in the house.

Bingley is still enjoying the life of a country squire but as soon as he tires of it I mean to persuade him to return to town. The country is no place to be in November.

Your cousin,

Darcy

Mr Wickham to Mrs Younge

London, November 13

How are you faring, Belle? Have you found yourself a rich protector? I am pockets to let as usual. I met Denny yesterday. You remember him, perhaps? He went to school with me. He is now in the militia and he has suggested that I join. I cannot say I find the idea particularly attractive but I must do something; and, more importantly, it would give me a chance to establish myself in a new part of the country where my debts are not known. If I am one of the militia, I will find that credit is extended to me, at least for a while, and I will be able to dine and drink with my fellows for free. I am thinking of going to Hertfordshire to see him soon and decide if I can tolerate the discipline for the sake of the credit.

George

Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy

Fitzwilliam House, London,

November 14

Dear cousin,

I had heard that Forster was with the militia but I did not know he was in Hertfordshire. You could not wish for better company. I have spent many an entertaining evening with him and I know he will collect the most interesting men around him. If he is stationed nearby, then you will not altogether lack for intelligent company, though you are living in a small neighbourhood in the middle of Hertfordshire. I have not heard that he is to marry but I hope it may be so. He is at that time of life when a man must think of such things, and if Forster is not averse to giving a ball, it seems the rumour must be true: I cannot think why he would be so eager to do it otherwise, despite Miss Lydia’s importunings.

The war continues to change course with every passing month. Everything was in our favour before Napoleon seized power: France was in disarray, and so was the army. But he is a natural leader and a man of considerable ability, and his recent victories against the Austrians have changed the balance of power again, so that I believe we will sign a treaty with him ere long. Even when it is signed, I doubt if the war will be truly over and I expect to see the outbreak of hostilities again before long. Napoleon is not a man to be content with peace, and the lull in hostilities will give him time to muster his forces and strike again, harder than before. If I had my way, we should crush him now whilst we can. But the politicians do not see it that way. The war is expensive and I think the government has no more stomach for it.

Your cousin,

Henry

Mr Darcy to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 14

Dearest Georgiana,

I was pleased to hear from Cousin Henry that you are well and happy and that you are making good progress with all your accomplishments. Ullswater is behaving herself, too, I hear, which will be a great relief to the rabbit population and no doubt the bird population as well! I remember you were going to paint her if she would only sit still long enough and I advise you to catch her when she is exhausted. I will look forward to seeing your portrait of her. I believe we will hang it in the gallery at Pemberley, at the far end between Cholmondley and Cerberus, a fitting filling between the sandwich of those other great Darcy dogs. And then you must paint your mare. Your last horse was so well done that it would be a pity not to take Milkfoot’s likeness, and now that you are so accomplished, we will hang it with all the other horses.

Caroline asks me to tell you that she longs to see your paintings and that she is sure they will be worthy additions to the Pemberley gallery. She cannot wait to see them when they are done, and hopes they are finished in time for her next visit.

You asked in your last letter how we spend our time and so I will tell you. We are at present in the drawing room. Charles is playing piquet with Edmund, and Louisa is watching them. You and I must play again when I return to London. As I recall you beat me last time, and I must have my revenge.

Caroline is offering to mend my pen for me, but as you know, I always mend my own.

Miss Bennet is still indisposed and keeps to her room. Her sister, Miss Elizabeth, has spent most of the day with her but has now joined us in the drawing room, where she is at present busy with her needlework.

Caroline is complimenting me on my penmanship, which reminds me that I must compliment you on your own. Your hand was very fine and flowing in your last letter; it is a credit to you and your tutor.

Louisa has grown tired of watching the piquet and has begun to look through her music.

Caroline begs me to tell you that she is delighted to hear of your improvement on the harp.

Charles is now accusing me of searching for words of four syllables and remarking that his own letters flow so fast that he has not time to express his ideas properly, but it is a boast, for he has always prized the idea of doing anything quickly. I hope you know that quickness is not a virtue and that considered thought is necessary in all things of importance.

Miss Elizabeth takes Charles’s side in the argument and Caroline takes mine. I fear it will not be over soon.

You must invite a friend to stay with you in London, for I find I will be in Hertfordshire for some time. You have your guardian in London at the moment, and Lady Catherine means to visit next week, but I am persuaded that you would like some company of your own age. I will be writing to Mrs Annesley about it, so pray invite whomever you wish. Perhaps Lady Catherine might be willing to let Anne remain with you for a few weeks. Though there are a good number of years between you, it makes me happy to see how well the two of you get on. Lady Catherine particularly commends you to practise your music, but I know you need no such reminders, as you are always diligent and your performance never fails to delight me.

And now I must go, for I am beginning to neglect Charles’s guests. We will have some music, I think, and perhaps I might ask Miss Elizabeth to dance a reel.

Your loving brother,

Fitzwilliam

Mr Charles Bingley to Mrs Bingley

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 16

Dear Ma,

When are you coming to visit me at Netherfield? It is all very well saying that you have already seen the house, but you have not seen it in the winter. You must come and stay with us for Christmas, and all my brothers and sisters, too.

I expect Caroline has told you already that we have houseguests, Miss Bennet and her sister. Miss Bennet is an angel, the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. We think alike on every subject, we dance together—upon my word I like her very much. She is not very well at the moment, a cold, but although I am sorry she is suffering, I cannot be sorry that she is here. Her sister walked over to be with her, which showed a very pleasing affection, though Caroline laughed at her for having a muddy skirt.

I believe Caroline does not like Miss Elizabeth very much, no doubt because Darcy is paying her some attention. I am not surprised. Miss Elizabeth does not hang on his every word as Caroline does. Indeed, when Darcy asked Miss Elizabeth if she would like to dance a reel, she refused, teasing him by saying that he only asked her so that he might despise her taste. A reel, you know, is not held to be a very genteel dance in society. Caroline was shocked that anyone should dare to speak to Darcy in such a fashion, but I could see that Miss Elizabeth did not disgust him, in fact quite the reverse—I am convinced he thought better of her for it. I am sure that Darcy does not like to be fawned over all the time, however much he expects it, and I think he liked to find someone who would stand up to him. I saw him watching Miss Elizabeth throughout the rest of the evening when he thought himself unobserved and there was a look of interest on his face. However, Caroline need have no fear, for it will not last. Darcy is not the man to lose his head over a woman. When he marries, it will be to someone whose pedigree is as long as his own. He can trace his family back to William the Conqueror, and there are very few families in England who can do the same. Upon my honour, I am glad I come from humbler stock. I am free to like whomever I will.

Write to me and let me know when I can expect you.

Your son,

Charles

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Bennet

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 16

Dear Mama,

You will be pleased to hear that Jane is now so much recovered that she is ready to come home, and I am writing to ask you if you will send the carriage for us this afternoon. We have already trespassed on Mr Bingley’s hospitality far longer than we intended and I am sure he must be wishing us gone. His sister, I know, will not be sorry to see us leave. She is impatient for the day when she can have Mr Darcy all to herself again.

Your affectionate daughter,

Lizzy

Mrs Bennet to Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 16

Dear Lizzy,

You are quite wrong when you say that Mr Bingley is wishing you gone, for I never saw anything more promising than his attitude towards Jane when I called at Netherfield. Another few days will do the trick, you mark my words. I always intended Jane to stay at Netherfield for a week, and as the week will not be up until Tuesday, you may have the carriage then.

Your loving Mama

P.S. If Mr Bingley presses you to stay beyond Tuesday, then you must accept, for I can very well spare you for as long as he wishes.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 16

Dear Susan,

I owe you a letter. I would have written to you sooner but I have been busy looking after Jane, who was taken ill when she dined with the Bingleys at Netherfield some days ago. She was too ill to be moved—do not fear, it is only a cold, but she is very poorly with it—and so I came to look after her, for there is nothing so miserable as being among strangers when one is indisposed.

And that, you see, is why my letter comes to you from Netherfield Park. In fact, I am writing to you from your old room.

It seems very strange to be here without you. The company was much better when you were here, for, apart from Mr Bingley, there is not one person I wish to see again, and I am glad that we will be leaving this very day. Mr Bingley’s sisters have been kind to Jane, to be sure—who could not be kind to someone so good?—but they have done everything in their power to make me feel unwelcome. They laughed at my taste and despised my occupations. But despite this, Miss Bingley fears me, I think. She sees me as a rival for Mr Darcy’s attention.

Why she should have such an absurd notion I cannot imagine, for he never looks at me but to find fault. And yet she asked me to take a turn about the room with her one evening in order to try and catch his attention; then, once it had been caught, she did everything possible to keep his attention on herself.

He saw through her at once, however, and refused her when she invited him to walk with us. I suggested we tease him when she wanted to punish him for it, but Mr Darcy, arrogant, conceited man that he is, agreed with Miss Bingley that he was impossible to tease since he has no faults—except, perhaps, that his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever, but that is not a fault I could laugh at, and I said so.

He merely gave a superior smile, and Miss Bingley, tired of his attentions to me, suggested we have some music.

She need not have worried. As if realising that he had been too agreeable—agreeable by his own standards, though not by anyone else’s—Mr Darcy relapsed into a hostile silence, which he has preserved ever since.

We are now waiting only for Mr Bingley’s carriage to be brought round to take us home, and I hear it below. I will write some more when we are back at Longbourn.

Lizzy

Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Bath, November 17

Dearest Elizabeth,

I have been hearing so much about Netherfield from you and Charlotte that I feel almost as though I had never left. I am very glad that Mr Bingley is such an agreeable gentleman—and already halfway in love with Jane, Charlotte says. I think Charlotte is right, Lizzy: if Jane likes him, she should encourage him. Jane has always been of a calm and equable temper and, not knowing her as we do, he might mistake her gentleness for indifference. It would be a good match for her and I would be happy to see her so well settled in life.

What a pity that all young men cannot be as pleasant as Mr Bingley, for I hear nothing but bad reports about Mr Darcy. However, I know you will tolerate him, for Jane’s sake. Perhaps he will return to town, leaving Mr Bingley behind. That would be better for everyone.

We have our own share of conceited company here. There are two titled people in Bath, and they expect the rest of us to give way to them in all things. Luckily, we do not see them very often, for it is tiresome to be always having to bow and scrape to those who have nothing to recommend them but their illustrious name.

There are some interesting people here, too, however, and we meet them regularly at the assemblies and concerts. Mama and Papa do not particularly enjoy going out, but Mama makes sure we attend all the entertainments because she is hoping that my sisters and I will find wealthy husbands and so relieve her of our keep. It is for this reason that she thinks the expense of all our outings worth it.

I am sure I would like to find a wealthy husband as well as the next person, as long as he should happen to be young, handsome and agreeable as well. Alas, the young men in Bath are poor and the wealthy men are disagreeable, so much so that the thought of dwindling into an old maid seems positively welcome next to the thought of marrying any of them. But we are expecting an influx of new visitors next week and must hope that some of them are more inspiring.

Do not forget what I have said: tell Jane to encourage Mr Bingley. If anything could reconcile me to the loss of Netherfield Park, it would be knowing that my dear friend was living there.

Your friend,

Susan

Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 18

Most noble Friend,

Our family circle has been much improved by the arrival of Mr Collins, one of Papa’s cousins and the heir to the Longbourn estate. He has made clear his intention of marrying one of us, in order not to deprive us of our home when Papa dies. Jane must be his first choice, she being the eldest, though she is perhaps as good as betrothed to Mr Bingley. Elizabeth must be his next choice, but she is unsuited in every way to being a clergyman’s wife. Were it not for the fact that I have foresworn the nuptial veil, I might be prevailed upon to marry him. He is a man of taste, refinement and solid worth, as evidenced by his company and his letter to Papa. His ideas were well expressed, if all of them were not new, and I have used them, as well as my brief knowledge of him, to make a thorough analysis of his character.

He is a clergyman with a pleasing gallantry not unbecoming to a man of his profession; indeed, his comment that he did not doubt of seeing us all well disposed of in marriage in due time was delicately expressed, for he could not be expected to know that I have foresworn the state of matrimony.

He is a man of some ability, for he has won the patronage of a very great lady, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She is a woman of sound understanding and intelligence, as Mr Collins himself has said. She is thought proud by many who know her, but Mr Collins has found her to be all affability—no doubt because she appreciates his superior powers.

He is a man of foresight, for he prepares elegant compliments with which to compliment Lady Catherine and her daughter, Anne, when the chance arises.

He is also a man of great perspicacity, for he looked with disapproval on Kitty’s novel and chose to read from Fordyce’s Sermons instead.

As befits his calling as a clergyman, he is full of the milk of human kindness and Christian charity, for when Papa apologised to him for Lydia’s inattention, he remarked that he bore her no ill will.

If I were ever to abandon the ways of Intellect and embrace the Fleshpots of Matrimony, I believe it would be with a man such as Mr Collins.

Your sister in the pursuit of learning,

Mary

Miss Lucy Sotherton to Miss Mary Bennet

Bath, November 19

Hail!

The clarion call of alarm sounded in my bosom when I received your last epistle. Although it was written in no less erudite a style than that which I have come to expect from you, it showed a disturbing wavering in your devoutly held principles, never to forsake the path of Learning and succumb to the Lure of the World. Take succour from me, dear friend, and let the strength of womanly sisterhood flow into your veins from a fellow ardent supporter of Athena. The owl sees all but flies alone. Pray reassure me that Mr Collins has not ensnared you with his masculine charms.

Your ardent friend,

Lucy

Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 19

Most noble Friend,

Your letter made me think, for I must own that I was considering whether or not it might be my Duty to forsake the path of spinsterhood in order to spread my gifts amongst the parishioners of Rosings. But your remark about the owl gave me pause, for it was very well expressed; indeed, I have copied it into my book of extracts. With your help, dear friend, I have seen that I can best spread my wisdom by helping Mr Collins to write his next sermon. I have given him the benefit of my thoughts on the Iniquity of Frivolity and the Wickedness of Vanity. My sister Lydia could gain much by such a sermon. It would prevent her from running after the officers, a habit which has grown worse since the arrival of Mr Wickham, a handsome young man from London. But as I said to Lydia, a handsome face does not always auger a handsome heart. She only laughed and continued to trim her new bonnet, but Mr Shackleton said the thought was well expressed.

If not for the fact that he is a man, I would invite him to join our exclusive group of Learned Women.

Your dearest friend,

Mary

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 19

Dear Henry,

Wickham is here! In Hertfordshire—indeed, in Meryton! I saw him not an hour ago. It was an unpleasant shock, and I cannot help wondering what mischief he is planning. He has never forgiven me for denying him the living, though he knows he should never have had it, and he has hated me even more since I frustrated his attempts to elope with Georgiana. After that, I was sure I would never see him again, and yet here he is, in my very neighbourhood. I cannot think it is an accident, it must be by design, yet he seemed as shocked as I was at our meeting. What can it mean?

It happened like this. Bingley and I were riding over to Longbourn to see how Miss Bennet did, when we saw the Miss Bennets walking to their aunt’s house with a small party. They were all talking together with perfect ease until we came upon them, when they stopped to talk to us. Bingley enquired after Miss Bennet’s health and I was in the act of turning away from her sister when I saw Wickham. He saw me at the same moment and went red, and then touched his hat with the coolest impudence I have ever seen. Does he mean to torment me with his presence? Is that his idea in coming here? Is it his revenge, to force himself into my company, knowing that if he is with the officers there is nothing I can do about it?

I cannot say. And yet I wish I knew.

Our meeting lasted only moments but it has left me feeling unsettled and I find myself worrying about Georgiana. Perhaps Wickham is hoping she will join me here, and perhaps he thought to make himself agreeable to her again, and relied on being able to escape my notice. Or perhaps he wanted to assure himself that I was really settled in the country, so that he could arrange a meeting with her in London whilst I was away.

I am perhaps being overly cautious, but I am writing to Philip, as he is presently in London, and I have asked him to visit Georgiana. He does not know what happened at Ramsgate and I have no intention of telling him; it is not at all necessary, as he will think my concern is nothing more than brotherly interest. If anything is amiss, I am sure he will tell me.

I will write to you again tomorrow. We are dining with the officers tonight and I hope to learn more from them. I only hope that Wickham is not with them.

I dare say this all seems very trivial to you, caught up as you are in the war. Tell me everything you can, without compromising your troops; I rely on you for news. The papers are full of such conflicting reports it is impossible to know what is really going on. Half of them are motivated by patriotic fervour and promise us that victory is imminent, and the other half are motivated by a desire to ridicule the government and its handling of the war and write daily of the certainty of our being invaded before the year is out.

Your cousin,

Darcy

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 19

Mr dear Philip,

I know you are in town and I would be much obliged if you would call on Georgiana and let me know how she goes on. I had to dismiss her last companion, as you know, because the woman did not know what company was suitable for Miss Darcy, and although I have every confidence in Mrs Annesley, I think it does no harm to keep a brotherly eye on things.

Your cousin,

Darcy

Mr Wickham to Mrs Younge

Meryton, Hertfordshire,

November 20

Belle! I miss you! The women of Hertfordshire are nothing to you. I have met them all, and not one of them can hold a candle to you. I wish I was in town with you, but London is too hot to hold me, and many other towns as well. I had an uncomfortable feeling yesterday that Meryton was going to be too hot for me as well, not because I have run up a mountain of debts already, but because Darcy is here! Can you believe it? Was there ever a man plagued by such d——d bad luck as I am? I saw him whilst out walking with one of the officers here. We had just fallen into conversation with a family of young ladies—not a patch on you, Belle, none of them—when who should ride up but Darcy. He was with his friend Bingley, and the two of them were evidently acquainted with the ladies, for they stopped to talk to them. I thought Darcy was going to have an apoplexy! I was none too comfortable myself. I knew he could make things very difficult for me if he chose, and though in order to destroy me he will have to destroy his sister, I am not certain he will not do it. He hates me enough, I am sure. He went white when he saw me and his hands clutched the reins of his horse so tightly I thought he would tear them in two. I went red. How could I help it? But I quickly recovered myself and touched my hat. He was incensed. He did not want to acknowledge me. But rather than make a scene, he saluted me in return. Our greeting would have passed unnoticed, but for the glance of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, which happened to notice all. I saw her surprise, and on learning that her sister is shortly to become betrothed to Darcy’s friend—for her aunt told me so—I was afraid that Miss Elizabeth might have the whole story out of her future brother-in-law. I could do nothing about it at the time, but being invited to a party at her aunt’s house, I sought her out and sat next to her, hoping to discover what she knew. And then at last I had a stroke of good luck, for a change, as I quickly discovered that she did not like Darcy. Moreover, half the town did not like him, for his superior airs had given them a disgust of him. Thank God for Darcy’s d——d snobbishness. It has served me well. I was able to give Miss Elizabeth an account of my dealings with Darcy which, you may be sure, were favourable to me: how his revered father left me a living, which Darcy chose not to give me; how he was jealous of me, because of his father’s love for me; how I was not meant for a military life, but meant to make the best of it. I tempered it with remarks on his liberality to his tenants and his affection for his sister, but I took care to portray Georgiana as proud, so that if word ever reaches Miss Elizabeth about that unfortunate affair, she will put it down to malicious gossip.

I had an uncomfortable moment when she said that he deserved to be publicly disgraced, for if my lies came out, then Darcy would not hesitate to refute them, but I recovered quickly and said that I should never breathe a word of it, out of respect for his father.

Although quick-witted enough in other respects, Miss Elizabeth believed me, without it ever occurring to her that I had just breathed a word of it, indeed many words of it, to her. I wonder what he has done to her, to give her such an immoveable dislike of him? Insulted her, no doubt. Not deliberately, but in that superior way he has of making everyone else feel that they are beneath his notice.

So now I am firmly established in her good opinion, and in the good opinion of the rest of the town. A handsome face and a charming manner will always win friends for the man who puts himself out to win them. A bit of flattery thrown into the mix and it is soon done. Whether or not I will stay here I do not know. Much depends on Darcy. I do not know at present how long he intends to stay here. If it is only for a few weeks, then it will be worth my while to stay, but if he intends to stay here for months, then things might become uncomfortable. I am still undecided. But I must live somewhere, and until anything better offers, in Meryton I must stay.

George

Mrs Younge to Mr Wickham

London, November 21

Ah, Georgy, you don’t fool me, it’s your Belle you’re talking to. You’ve been charming the young ladies of Meryton and you’ve singled out Miss Elizabeth as your flirt. She must be pretty, then, and lively, and witty, for you wouldn’t waste your time on her otherwise. You’ll leave a mountain of debts and a string of broken hearts behind you when you leave the neighbourhood, I dare say.

Fancy you seeing Darcy there, of all places. That was a piece of bad luck, but I don’t suppose he will be there for long; he will be wanting to see his sister again soon and he will be riding back to town.

Hurry up and find an heiress. We’ve had a lot of good times, you and me, and will have some more before we’re done, but we need money to do it with.

Belle

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 22

My dear Henry,

You will be relieved to hear that Philip has been to see Georgiana and that he has found nothing to alarm him. I mentioned that Georgiana’s last companion allowed her to mix with unsuitable people and, being a brother himself, he understood my concern and made minute enquiries. He found out what letters were received and sent from the house and they were all unexceptionable. He spoke at length with Mrs Annesley and found her to be as reliable and trustworthy as I had found her, and he spoke to Georgiana and found her happy and intent on painting Ullswater. He then spoke to the groom and discovered that Georgiana never spoke to anyone in the park who could be considered undesirable and that she was attended at all times.

So my worst fears were ungrounded.

Indeed, it seems now certain that Wickham’s presence in the neighbourhood is pure chance. I dined with the officers again and discovered that Wickham came here at the invitation of Mr Denny. The two were already acquainted and Denny persuaded Wickham that a life in the militia would suit him. Wickham, as always, has pockets to let, and so he is to purchase a lieutenant’s commission. Where he will find the money I do not know, nor do I care, as long as he does not ask me for it, and after our unfriendly greeting I have no fear of it.

If not for the fact that I will have to accustom myself to seeing him from time to time, I would not think of him again. Unfortunately, Bingley has invited him to a ball at Netherfield—not him especially, but as one of the officers. I could not very well ask Bingley to make an exception of Wickham, at least not without arousing curiosity, and so I said nothing. Caroline, though, suspects something, but I believe she has put my aversion down to pride, and thinks that I do not wish to mix with the son of my father’s steward. It is better than her discovering my real reason for hating him—and hate him I still do. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

Your cousin,

Darcy

Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton

Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,

November 22

Dearest Susan,

We have two new additions to Meryton society. The Bennets have a cousin staying with them, a Mr Collins, and there is a new officer—or soon-to-be officer—Mr Wickham. My brothers and sisters are all hoping that one or other of the gentlemen will make me an offer, but I think it unlikely. It is a pity, for I would certainly accept. My feelings on this matter have brought home to me what a very great difference there is between twenty-seven and one and twenty. Jane is the object of Mr Bingley’s attentions, but she does nothing to encourage him. Such reticence is very sweet at her age, but if she does not have a care, she might find herself having to encourage someone far less agreeable in another five years’ time.

Elizabeth is meanwhile the object of her cousin’s attentions. I think she has only just begun to suspect it and is mortified. To be sure, he is not a sensible man, and has nothing in the way of personal virtues to recommend him, but he has a good living, a comfortable establishment and the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. His wife will be respectable and respected, and I must confess that if such a man were to appear interested in me, I would encourage him in every way available to me. But Elizabeth is yet young enough and romantic enough to think that true love still awaits her. As for myself, I have never been romantic. I have no belief in love, true or otherwise, but I would be glad of my own home and my own life, away from my family, no matter how much I love them.

I am invited to a ball at Netherfield and there I will no doubt dance with all the officers, make myself agreeable, and hope that one of them will be as unromantic as I am and decide that he needs a sensible wife.

But what of you? Are you still liking Bath? Is your father any better? Is your mother any happier? Have you any prospects?

Write to me soon,

Charlotte

Mr Wickham to Mrs Younge

Meryton, Hertfordshire,

November 22

Ah, Belle, how strange a thing is life, one minute up, one minute down, and then up again! After my recent holiday in debtors’ prison it was balm to my spirit to find myself invited to a ball at Netherfield Park. That is an arena in which I can shine. I am not asked there for my own sake, but that is not important; I have an invitation and that is all that counts. As Mr Bingley did not make an exception of me when he invited all the officers, he evidently does not know what happened in Ramsgate last summer. Darcy must have been too proud to tell him, for which I am grateful. Bingley will be useful to me as long as he stays in ignorance. He can give me an entrée into the best society here and, better yet, he has a wealthy sister. The gossip is that Caroline Bingley has her sights set on Darcy, but I know him too well to think that he will ever marry her, for she has no pedigree and her money comes from trade. Sooner or later she will realise that she is wasting her time and then she will be vulnerable to a handsome charmer and there might be a chance for me.

In the meantime, I am keeping my wits about me. There are bound to be some wealthy young women in the neighbourhood and they are bound to be at the Netherfield ball. I am looking forward to seeing the look on Darcy’s face when I walk in! No matter what his true feelings, he will have to be polite to me, as a guest of his friend. I am looking forward to it.

George

Mrs Younge to Mr Wickham

London, November 23

I think you would do better to avoid the ball; it might provoke Darcy into revealing something you would rather have concealed. The people of Meryton believe you to be a good, honest citizen at the moment. They give you ready credit and you have friends who will be useful to you, but all that will change if Darcy lets slip something about your habit of running up debts, let alone your habit of trying to run off with rich young girls.

Your own,

Belle

Mr Wickham to Mrs Younge

Meryton, Hertfordshire,

November 25

Perhaps you are right. I will say that I have business in town. It is as good an excuse as any. Expect me tomorrow at midday.

George

Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 26

You will never guess what we have been doing all week: getting ready for the Netherfield ball. Lizzy has been telling Mama that my dress is too low and Mama has been busy telling her that it is not! Mama says that Mr Bingley’s giving a ball is a compliment to Jane but I think it is a compliment to me since I am the one who asked him for it, and you may be sure I intend to tease everyone else in the neighbourhood into giving a ball as well, just as soon as this one is over.

Kitty and me have been wanting to walk into Meryton a dozen times since Miss Bingley brought us the invitation but it has been raining so hard we have not been able to go once. It is wet enough for a river in the lane. Mary says that it is a punishment on us for being so frivolous and she has been writing about it in her book. La! You never saw such nonsense.

If we all take a soaking on our way to the ball, I wonder if we will all have to stay at Netherfield until we are well again? Lord! What fun it would be, especially if Mr Wickham had to stay there, too. Me and Kitty are going to dance with him half the night apiece, and the other half we are going to dance with the rest of the officers. We both intend to marry a man in a red coat.

I cannot wait for this evening, the time is going so slow. Mr Collins is prosing on and Lizzy is telling me I must behave and Mama is talking of nothing but Mr Bingley. Only another hour to go and then I can get dressed. I am wearing my blue sarsenet and Kitty is going in yellow.

Your affectionate friend,

Lydia

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Dear Susan,

You will be pleased to hear that the ballroom at Netherfield has been put to good use, for last night Mr Bingley hosted a ball. I had high hopes for the evening and I dressed with unusual care, as I was looking forward to dancing with Mr Wickham and conquering what was left of his heart, but he did not attend. But I forget, you do not know about Mr Wickham. He is new to the neighbourhood and the most amiable young man in existence. He is charming, sincere, intelligent and handsome: in short, he is my model of what a young man should be. And I believe I may say without undue vanity that he is equally pleased with me. He singled me out at my aunt’s house and we spent most of the evening talking together. I looked out for him in the ballroom as soon as we arrived at Netherfield but I was disappointed in my expectations for he did not attend. He had some urgent business in town, or so Mr Denny said, but Denny knew as well as I did that Mr Wickham was driven away by Mr Darcy.

It seems that Mr Darcy’s father left Mr Wickham a valuable living in his will, but Mr Darcy was jealous of the affection his father bestowed upon Mr Wickham and so he gave the living elsewhere.

I am not surprised that Mr Wickham decided to avoid the ball. I would have avoided it myself if I had known how it was going to turn out. No Mr Wickham, and instead I had to dance with Mr Darcy. I would have refused him, but he asked me so unexpectedly that I could not think of any excuse and so I was doomed to dance with the one man in the room who, above all others, I had no desire to partner. I cannot imagine why he asked me, as he seemed to take no pleasure in my company and I certainly took no pleasure in his. I could not resist the urge to question him about Mr Wickham and I was not surprised that he quickly changed the subject, but not before he had said that Mr Wickham found it easy to make friends but less easy to keep them.

I have no desire to think about Mr Darcy and yet I must admit that he puzzles me. He is a thoroughly disagreeable man, monstrous in his dealings with Mr Wickham, and yet Mr Bingley likes him; and Mr Bingley, you know, is the most pleasant of men. How can this be?

Jane is certain that there has been some misunderstanding, that Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham are both amiable men who have been set against each other by some third party, but this is impossible—and besides, Jane’s opinion is not to be trusted, for when did Jane ever think ill of anyone?

It is a mystery. For my part, it can remain so. I have no interest in Mr Darcy, and if he is going to make life difficult for Mr Wickham, then I hope he will soon leave Netherfield so that we might all be comfortable again.

My dance with Mr Darcy was not the limit of my vexations. Indeed, it seemed as if almost my whole family was conspiring to disgrace themselves. Mr Collins insisted on dancing with me, and a more mortifying partner it would be impossible to imagine. He went left when he should go right, forward when he should go back, and he stood on my toes at least three times. I am beginning to fear, too, that his interest in me does not end in dancing and that he has it in mind to marry me. But I will not think of that until I am certain.

He further made himself ridiculous by attempting to ingratiate himself with Mr Darcy, as he knows Mr Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and Mama spoke in the loudest voice about Jane and Bingley’s forthcoming marriage, though nothing has been agreed upon. She would not lower her voice no matter how much I asked it of her.

As if that were not enough, Mary sang. Oh, Susan, how good it is to write to you, because you know exactly what I mean when I say that Mary sang! Why she will persist in doing it when she has no voice I do not know. Ordinarily it does no harm, but in front of Mr Bingley’s sisters and Mr Darcy, who are ever looking for something to ridicule or despise, it was humiliating. I caught my father’s eye, but instead of managing the situation with tact he almost pulled Mary from the piano, saying that she had delighted everyone long enough.

Caroline Bingley added her share to my vexations by trying to ridicule my friendship with Mr Wickham, saying that he was the son of the late Mr Darcy’s steward, to which I replied that he had told me so himself. When she could not discomfit me that way, she said that Mr Darcy had always been excessively kind to Mr Wickham but that Mr Wickham had never deserved his kindness and had returned it with infamous behaviour. When I questioned her she could give me no particulars, which did not surprise me, as her motives were transparent. She sought to lower Mr Wickham in my estimation because he is the son of a steward, and the son of a steward must always come beneath a man with ten thousand a year in her eyes.

I was very glad when the evening came to an end. Mama would not leave, however, but managed by some ruse to keep us there for a quarter of an hour after everyone else had gone, so that I saw how heartily we were wished away by most of the party. Not Mr Bingley, however, for I believe he would never send Jane away of his own accord.

It was the one good thing to come out of the evening, for he sought Jane out at the start of the ball and devoted himself to her for the entire evening. I am sure he will propose to her before long, and how fortunate an outcome that will be. Jane happily settled, and married to a good and cheerful man—it is almost worth the mortifications of this evening to see that come to pass!

And now I must go to bed. I am cross and out of sorts, but I hope that things will look better in the morning.

Write to me soon,

Lizzy

Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Most noble Friend,

I have endured many serious trials this week on account of the Netherfield ball, but you will no doubt be pleased to hear that the rigours of my intellectual pursuits have allowed me to bear the follies of my family with stoicism. Indeed, I used the occasion to impart some knowledge to my sisters. When Kitty and Lydia filled the house with their idle chatter about officers, remarking on the importance of a red coat, I told them that Hannibal had managed to cross the Alps without a red coat, and so, too, had his elephant. But my attempts to awaken them to the joys of sisterly scholarship fell short of my hopes, as Lydia took no notice of me but instead embarked on a long and not very interesting story about when Mr Denny pretended to be an elephant and chased her all around the room.

Jane has spent the week sighing over Mr Bingley, encouraged by Mama, and Elizabeth talks of no one but Mr Wickham, who, it seems, is a paragon of virtue. I likened him to a young Apollo, hoping to awaken in her bosom an interest in the ancient Greeks, but her brain, alas, is not suited to such erudition. Nor is my sister Lydia’s, for she ran around the room shouting, ‘à pollo, à pollo.’ She persisted in thinking that Apollo meant ‘like a chicken,’ flapping her arms and squawking in a noisy manner, even when I protested that Mr Wickham was nothing like the aforementioned bird.

The only sensible conversation has come from my cousin, Mr Collins. We were both of us in agreement over the necessity of attending the ball, despite my family’s expectations that we would find such an entertainment unworthy of our superior powers, but as I remarked to them at the time, I think it no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all. I was much taken with this phrase and I have written it into my book of extracts. As a maxim it is both elegant and true, for I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.

Mr Collins agreed with me. He was able to set Elizabeth’s mind at rest when she feared that he might suffer a rebuke from the Archbishop or from Lady Catherine if he should venture to dance. In proof of his confidence, he asked her for the first two dances. It was very noble of him, for he could expect nothing by the way of a sensible conversation. My sister Elizabeth means well, but alas, dear Lucy, she is not a Learned Woman.

This was brought home to me when I was solicited to sing after supper. She looked at me in consternation, realising that if she had applied herself to her music as I had done, she could have been the centre of attention; and determining, no doubt, to apply herself to the pianoforte as soon as she returned home.

My performance was much enjoyed and I was gratified to think that I had brought some culture to the gathering, for Mr Bingley and his London friends expect it. Indeed, I saw Miss Bingley and her sister exchanging looks of frenzied delight, whilst Mr Darcy listened in stunned silence, amazed to have found such sophistication in the country. His frozen features showed his determination to catch every note of my performance, despite Miss Bingley’s attempts to distract him.

I was preparing to embark on a third song when Elizabeth caught my father’s eye and he drew me from the pianoforte, saying that I had delighted the company long enough. I was startled, for the assembled company was evidently enjoying the music, but his following words showed his real thoughts: ‘Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.’ And it is true that, whilst I sang, the other young ladies were squirming with embarrassment, knowing that they would have to follow my superior performance with one of their own. It would have been mortifying for them if I had continued any longer and shown their own efforts to be the effusions of mere amateurs.

Mr Collins was applied to, and made the most sensible speech of the evening, saying that he considered music an innocent diversion and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman, as long as he did not devote too much time to it and neglect his other duties, such as the writing of sermons. My mother nodded her approval and remarked to Lady Lucas that he was a very clever man. It is the first sensible remark I have ever heard my mother make. Perhaps there is hope for her yet.

Mr Shackleton surprised me by saying that he did not see anything so very clever about Mr Collins, only the sort of cleverness which comes with being in the pocket of a Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr Shackleton is of the opinion that true cleverness comes in enhancing the lives of one’s neighbours in a quieter way, by carrying out such necessary duties as those of a clerk. It is an interesting opinion, and one that is worthy of further consideration.

I hope your own studies are improving and that you are growing daily in virtue and understanding.

Your sister in all but family relations,

Mary

Miss Kitty Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Dearest Ellie,

We have been to a ball and danced all night. I danced the first two with Mr Denny and the third with Colonel Forster, then the two fourth with Mr Collins—urrgh!—and the two fifth with Captain Carter. I went into supper with Mr Saltrum and then danced with Mr Shackleton and then Mr Dacres. Lydia danced the first two with Captain Carter and the third with Mr Collins—she was lucky and only had one dance with him, and she says it was the most tedious affair and he would keep stepping on her hem and turning all the wrong ways—then the two fourth with Mr Dacres and the two fifth with Mr King. She went into supper with Mr Denny and afterwards danced with Colonel Forster, when he was not dancing with Miss Graves, and then Mr Pratt. I do wish you were here—what fun we would have had! I hope there are lots of officers in Bath. Lydia is fagged. She says I must send you her love and tell you that she had new shoe roses, and says that she will write a note in the morning.

I do wish your papa would mend his fortunes and you would come back to Netherfield, but not before Mr Bingley has married Jane.

Love and kisses,

Kitty

Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton

Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Dear Susan,

You are no doubt longing to hear all about the ball, and so here I am at my writing desk before breakfast. It was an interesting affair, and made a change in our daily routine. I was lucky and danced several dances, though Elizabeth was the focus of attention throughout the evening. I am not surprised. She was in looks, and attracted the admiration not only of her cousin but also of Mr Darcy. She did not see it, thinking that he asked her to dance only to mock her in some way, but that would have been out of character for him and I am surprised she did not realise it, she who is a great studier of character. He is proud and arrogant, yes, and I could well imagine him avoiding anyone he felt to be beneath him, but he does not have a propensity to mockery. I advised her to make herself agreeable to him, and cautioned her not to let her fancy for Mr Wickham make her appear unpleasant to Mr Darcy, who is a man of ten times Wickham’s consequence. But Elizabeth has no interest in a man’s consequence, and I believe she would rather marry a man she liked with a thousand a year than a man she did not particularly like with ten thousand a year. I cannot understand it. Happiness in marriage is very much a matter of chance, and those who start it in love very often fall out of love, whereas those who start it without love frequently end up the happier for it.

Jane was still the object of Mr Bingley’s affections, a fact my mama privately resented, not because she wishes Jane ill—though she would be happier if Mr Bingley had fallen in love with me—but because Mrs Bennet would talk of nothing else. She drove Mama almost to tears by enumerating the virtues of the match, crowing about Mr Bingley’s face, fortune, manner and address, and hoping that Mama might soon be equally fortunate in having a daughter wed.

She thought there was no chance of it, but I believe she might be mistaken, for Mr Collins has come to Meryton with the express wish of finding a wife. His first object was Jane, until he found she was likely to be soon engaged, and then Elizabeth became the object of his attentions. But Elizabeth has given him no encouragement—quite the reverse, in fact. She makes no secret of her irritation with him and last night she was grateful to me for drawing his attention to myself. She saw in it nothing but an act of kindness to herself. Such is the difference between twenty and twenty-seven!

Am I wrong, do you think, Susan, to try and win his—I will not say affections, for I doubt if he has any, unless they be for his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh—but his addresses, and his hand? I thought so at first, but if neither Jane nor Eliza will have him, then I see no reason why I should not be his third choice. He seems to have a comfortable home, Lady Catherine seems to be a sensible, if dictatorial, woman, and he has no vices. He has no virtues either, it is true, but his parsonage has two sitting rooms, so he tells me, and it seems to me that a wife might have one whilst her husband has the other. He is also fond of gardening. A man who is fond of such a pursuit will be out of doors a great deal in the summer and a sensible wife might see him very little, after all.

It might all come to nothing. He might offer for Mary if Elizabeth refuses him. But I believe he is my best hope. The next few days should prove interesting.

Yours affectionately,

Charlotte

Mr Collins to Lady Catherine de Bourgh

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Lady Catherine, I give thanks that I am in a position to inform you that your most estimable nephew, Mr Darcy, is in full and vigorous health, as I had the honour of meeting him last night at a private ball given by some gracious neighbours of my most revered cousins. It was an elegant entertainment, marked by the hospitality and politeness of the beneficent hosts, and one at which your nephew, if I might be permitted to say so, shone brightly. I was much struck when I learnt of his relationship to you and made so bold as to introduce myself, whereupon I was able to tell him that your ladyship and Miss Anne were exceedingly well a sennight ago. He was grateful for the knowledge and much pleased with the attention.

Of the other matter I cannot yet speak, but I am certain that before very long I will be able to introduce you to Mrs Collins, if you should be gracious enough to allow the familiarity.

Your humble servant,

William Collins

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Dear Henry,

I spoke at length with Colonel Forster at Bingley’s ball last night, and he shares your opinion of the war. It is a pity, because if a lasting peace could be secured it would be of benefit to the country as a whole, but if the French are determined to fight on then we have no choice but to defend ourselves and our interests overseas.

Bingley was less interested in the war and more interested in his first ball, or at least, the first he has hosted. He need not have worried, for it was generally well received. He danced every dance and charmed everyone, playing the perfect host, and Caroline was an excellent hostess. She arranged the whole thing very well and was gratified when I said so.

I saw nothing of Wickham, who cried off at the last minute, but his influence was felt still, for, when I asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet to dance, it became clear that he had been blackening my character and that she believed everything he had said. I could not correct her without disgracing my sister and the dance ended in silence.

The rest of the evening was no better. The company, though well enough for a small country neighbourhood, irritated me considerably.

I will be glad to leave the country. The weather has been abominable, and as Bingley has to return to town on business for a few days, I believe I will go with him. I have found myself attracted to…well, enough of that. Suffice it to say, I would do well to remove myself from certain temptations. Bingley, too…it will be better for both of us once we are in London again.

I will write to you again from there and send you news of Georgiana. I am thinking of having a miniature painted of her. It would please me to hang it next to the miniature of myself as a boy which my father so loved, in the drawing room at Pemberley.

Darcy

Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 27

Lord! What a time we are having, not only the ball last night—I danced every dance—but now Mr Collins has proposed to Lizzy! He said he wanted a private audience with her this morning and Kitty and I were agog, as you might imagine. Mama said of course, and Lizzy said he could have nothing to say to her that anyone might not hear, and Mama insisted on her staying and talking to Mr Collins, and then Mama took Kitty out of the room and left Lizzy alone with Mr Collins, and he rambled about Lady Catherine—for you know I just happened to be passing the door and just happened to hear every word he said—and he told Lizzy he had to marry because he is a clergyman and needs to set a good example, and that Lady Catherine told him to!

I wished he had asked me. Lord! What a lark it would have been, to have a proposal before any of my sisters.

But that is not the best of it. The best of it is that Lizzy would not have him! And he would not believe her, and said it was only delicacy on her part that kept her from accepting, and she kept telling him she would not have him over and over again, and he kept saying he wasn’t discouraged but he was certain of leading her to the altar when she’d refused him a few more times. It is even better than the ball!

And then of course Mr Collins told Mama that Lizzy refused him because she was a delicate female and Mama said she would never speak to Lizzy again if she did not marry Mr Collins, and then Papa said that he would never speak to Lizzy again if she did marry Mr Collins, and the whole house was in an uproar!

If it was me, I would much rather never speak to Papa again, for he is always saying how silly we are, but Mama understands what it is like to be young and thinks we are very clever.

Oh, Lord! Here is Charlotte coming down the drive. I hope you are having half as much fun in Bath as we are having here.

Lydia

Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton

Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,

November 28

My dear Susan,

You will be surprised, perhaps, to have another letter so soon, but I am sure you will like to know that Mr Collins proposed to Elizabeth and that she refused him. Mrs Bennet was very doleful when I arrived at the house, and wanting sympathy for having such an unnatural daughter. Elizabeth bore her mother’s reproaches well but she escaped from the room as soon as she could, and I do not blame her.

Mr Collins was equally affronted. He told me at least seven times that he did not resent Elizabeth’s behaviour and as many more times that he had meant well throughout the whole business and that if his manner had been at fault he must beg leave to apologise, but I listened to it all patiently.

At length I managed to lead him away from the topic by asking him some trifling questions about Rosings Park, Lady Catherine and his parsonage. He reluctantly let go of his complaints and overcame much of his stiffness as he talked about the cost of the chimney piece, the condescension of his esteemed patroness and the improvements he had made to his humble dwelling.

He was gratified at finding a ready listener and I hoped he might offer for me before I left Longbourn. Alas, he did not, but I think I am not deceiving myself when I say that I believe an offer will be forthcoming. There is no better salve for a rejection than an acceptance. You may be sure I will write to you as soon as I have any news.

Your good friend,

Charlotte

Miss Caroline Bingley to Miss Jane Bennet

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,

November 28

My dear Friend,

When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd, but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you. We mean to leave at once and we intend to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr Hurst has a house.

I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of the delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.

Mr Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?

Yours ever,

Caroline Bingley

Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 28

Ah! Sister, was there ever anyone so cruelly used? Nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me, nobody feels for my poor nerves. We have had such a few days I wonder I have survived. First Lizzy turned down Mr Collins, and now Mr Bingley has gone to London when he was to have married Jane. Everybody said so. Sir William Lucas himself said it was as plain as a pikestaff that Mr Bingley was head over ears in love with her, and now he has gone to town and we do not know when he will return. And if Lizzy takes it into her head to go refusing every offer of marriage she receives, she will never get a husband at all. I do not know who is to maintain her when her father is dead. I shall not be able to keep her. Nobody can tell what I suffer. But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.

Your affectionate sister,

Janet

Miss Jane Bennet to Miss Caroline Bingley

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 29

My dear Caroline,

Thank you for your letter; it was good of you to let me know that you are leaving Hertfordshire. You will be sorely missed but I console myself with the thought that we can continue our friendship through correspondence as you suggest, and I hope that you will one day return to Netherfield so that we might continue our friendship in person.

Truly yours,

Jane

Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton

Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,

November 29

Susan, you are to congratulate me. I am to marry Mr Collins. I was sure a proposal was coming, having listened to him all day yesterday, but knowing that he was to leave Hertfordshire very soon, I feared that he might not have time to speak before he left. However, I need not have worried. I happened to see him from an upstairs window as he approached the house and so I went out to accidentally meet him in the lane. No sooner did he see me than he proposed, assuring me of his wholehearted devotedness, and the approval of his noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. By the time we returned to the house I was engaged.

He speedily applied to my mother and father for their consent, which, as you might guess, was readily forthcoming, and my father set his seal on the match by saying that we should make our appearance at St. James’s. My brothers and sisters were overjoyed, my sisters knowing they will be able to come out more speedily now that I am to be married, and my brothers freed of the fear of me dying an old maid.

I am content. To be sure, Mr Collins is neither sensible nor agreeable, but still he will be my husband. I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.

I have not yet told Elizabeth. I fear she will be disappointed in me, but if so, I must bear it. I thought the news would come better from me and so I charged Mr Collins not to speak of it when he returned to Longbourn. I am not sure how far I can trust him, however.

Wish me courage!

Charlotte

Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Charlotte Lucas

Bath, November 30

My dear Charlotte,

I wish you happy with all my heart. It is a good match for you. Mr Collins is a respectable man with a good living and a useful patroness, by all accounts. I am happy for you, indeed I am. I know you are not romantic, and that you have never been romantic, and I think that you are lucky to have found a man who is also not romantic. Think how awful it would have been if he were in love with you and you could not return his affections. He wants a wife; you want a husband; and although I know it is not Lizzy’s way of going on, we are each of us different. I long to hear all about Kent, and how lucky you are to be going somewhere so agreeable.

Now I have some news for you. I, too, have met a gentleman. I will not say more at the moment, only that he is very handsome and agreeable, and that I like him more than any other man I have ever met. His name is Mr Wainwright. Would it not be strange if we were all to marry within a few months of each other?

Write to me soon. Tell me all about your wedding. Are you to be married in Meryton? Are you to go to London to buy your wedding clothes? Are you to leave for Kent straight afterwards, or are you to have a wedding tour first? You see, I am insatiable!

Your dear friend,

Susan

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

November 30

My dear Aunt Gardiner,

I have been remiss in my letter writing, particularly since much has been happening. Just over ten days ago a visitor arrived, one of Papa’s cousins, Mr Collins, who is to inherit the estate. This upset Mama, as you might imagine, until he made it clear that he had come to make amends for his inheritance by marrying one of us, after which Mama was all smiles. His first choice was Jane, made in less than twenty-four hours of his arrival. On learning that she was likely to be soon engaged, he quickly transferred his favours to me, and three days ago, having known me for no more than ten days, he proposed. Naturally I did not accept, for even leaving aside his dubious motives for marriage, he is one of the most ridiculous men I have ever met. You do not know him, and so perhaps you doubt me, but I am not alone in my opinion of him: Papa thinks him one of the most absurd of men and even Jane can scarcely find anything good to say about him.

In refusing him, I incurred Mama’s disapproval and I fear she has still not forgiven me. She makes constant allusions to it, and her ill will was matched by Mr Collins’s resentment until, three days after being rejected by me and less than a fortnight after arriving in Hertfordshire, he proposed to Charlotte! The love which he offered me is now hers, as is the parsonage at Hunsford and the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Poor Charlotte. I do not know which I mind most: the thought that she has accepted him, for it has sunk her in my estimation, or the knowledge that she will not be happy.

This is a letter of wonders, is it not?

Mr Collins has now left us, although he intends to return very shortly, much to Papa’s despair, for Mr Collins is very fond of company and follows my father even into his library. Mama, too, is not eager for his return, thinking, not unnaturally, that he would be better staying at Lucas Lodge.

She has still not accepted the situation and consoles herself by variously saying that she disbelieves the whole story, or by thinking that Mr Collins has been taken in by Charlotte’s artfulness, or by trusting they will never be happy together, or by hoping that the match will be broken off.

Papa amuses himself by saying that he is relieved to know that Charlotte is just as silly as his wife and more foolish than his daughter. Jane is surprised but endeavours to see good qualities in Mr Collins and to believe that they will be happy. Kitty is entertained, being eager to spread the news as quickly as possible. Lydia is astonished, asking Sir William—who brought the news—how he could tell such a story, for Mr Collins wants to marry me!

Mama scolds me every time she sees me. I have some sympathy for her, as Lady Lucas cannot help speaking of having the comfort of a daughter well married whenever she visits, which is rather oftener than usual.

My other news is neither ridiculous nor happy. Mr Bingley has left Netherfield, and there is some doubt as to when, and if, he will return. Jane bears it bravely but she is deeply upset. I am sure his sisters are behind the separation, for I never saw a man so violently in love as Mr Bingley.

Your loving niece,

Lizzy

DECEMBER

Mrs Gardiner to Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Gracechurch Street, London,

December 1

Dear Lizzy,

Thank you for your letter, which as you will imagine I found impossible to put down. I did not know that Mr Collins planned to visit, and I am surprised your Mama did not mention it, which leads me to assume that you did not have much warning of his visit yourself. He certainly seems to be an extraordinary young man.

I am relieved that you refused him, though not surprised, for you have always had good sense. He must be very foolish, for who but a foolish man would propose to one woman he did not know, let alone propose to two? What can he have been thinking of? And after his rejection by you, to propose to another woman whilst staying under your roof? There is not only foolishness but a lack of delicacy in the matter.

Your mama has also written to me and feels herself very cruelly used, although at the time I did not understand what she was complaining of, as I had never heard of Mr Collins and her letter did not make it clear who he was, much less what he had been doing. Her talk of you rejecting an offer of marriage also made no sense as she gave me no details, so I am grateful that your letter has enlightened me.

Never fear, her anger will soon fade—far sooner than your problems would have faded had you indeed accepted Mr Collins.

You say that you are disappointed in Charlotte. I understand your feelings towards your friend, but remember that Charlotte is twenty-seven, and that her situation, as well as her temperament, is very different to your own. She has no congenial companion at Lucas Lodge, no sister with whom she shares everything, as you share everything with Jane, and this will necessarily give her less of an attachment to her home. Then, too, she knows that if she does not accept Mr Collins, she will very likely end up an old maid. Yes, my dear Lizzy, I know that you would far rather be unmarried than marry a man you did not love, but for Charlotte it is different. She has a practical nature, and, for her, being the mistress of her own home is preferable to remaining under her father’s roof. I would rather she had been able to love her husband, but I think, knowing Charlotte, that she will not repine over her lot. She will rejoice that she has so much, rather than mourn that it is not enough.

Your uncle and I will be with you on the twenty-third for our visit, and if your mama has not given over her ill humour by then, I will do what I can to restore her to civility. And if your sister has not recovered her spirits, perhaps she will like to come back to London with us for a holiday and a change of scene. I believe that some time away from your mama might be beneficial to her.

Your loving aunt,

Margaret

Mr Collins to Mr Bennet

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

December 2

Dear Sir,

The delightful and felicitous stay I have just enjoyed in your munificent home, where I was overwhelmed by the gracious hospitality and genteel congeniality of your entire family, not excepting yourself, dear sir, of whose condescension in receiving me I am fully and nobly aware—also, I beg to assure you, most suitably and humbly obliged—has prompted me to write this letter of grateful and sincere thankfulness.

It has fallen to my happy lot in life to secure the affections of your most noble and amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, whose modesty and economy have already won her the favour of my most estimable and gracious patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. My esteemed patroness has humbled me by the excessive kindness of her reception of my news, and the assurance that the future Mrs Collins will be welcome to partake of a hand of quadrille at Rosings Park whenever Lady Catherine should need to make up a table.

It was merely to enjoy the society of my amiable Charlotte that I closed so rapidly with your wife’s kind invitation to visit Longbourn again when I last departed, whither I hope to be able to return on Monday fortnight, for Lady Catherine so heartily approves the marriage that she wishes it to take place as soon as possible. This will, of course, be an unanswerable argument with my amiable Charlotte for her to name an early day for making me the happiest of men.

William Collins

Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

December 4

Ah, sister, how good it is I have you to turn to, for nobody here is on my side, no one listens to me and no one cares about my nerves. And now on top of everything I am to receive Mr Collins, who belongs to Lizzy, for you know he proposed to her, but who has turned, like a snake in the grass, and proposed to Charlotte Lucas instead. Lady Lucas crows about it all the time, saying how good it is to have a daughter well married, and talking of his parsonage and his Lady Catherine, till I have to bite my tongue in order not to tell her that she is welcome to him, for never a more disagreeable man have I ever met; and I am sure that the parsonage is nothing to brag about, for I am convinced it will be small and dark and, I dare say, full of pigs.

I do not see why he does not go to Lucas Lodge instead of plaguing us here at Longbourn. I hate having visitors in the house while my health is so indifferent, and lovers are of all people the most disagreeable, especially lovers who do nothing but talk all day long and never let one get away. Though if Mr Bingley were here it would be quite different, and do not go thinking I am meaning him. But ah! sister, there again I have been cruelly used, for Mr Bingley has been away a week and we have not heard a line from him. There is a report abroad that he does not mean to return to Meryton, but I never fail to contradict it as a scandalous falsehood.

Jane bears it like a saint, but if he does not come back she will think herself very ill used and most likely go into a decline and die. And then Mr Bingley will be sorry, I am sure, but of what use will it be to us then?

But here is Charlotte Lucas at the door, come to cast her eye over Longbourn, I make no doubt, and to anticipate the hour of possession. That I should live to see Charlotte Lucas take my place as the mistress of Longbourn! I have told Mr Bennet he must outlive Mr Collins and he has promised to do his best, but oh! sister, when he dies, what will become of us? We will be turned out of the house before Mr Bennet is cold in his grave, and if my brother does not take us in, I do not know what we will do!

I cannot bear to think of the Collinses having this estate. If not for the entail, I should not mind it, but no one takes pity on me. How can anyone have the conscience to entail an estate away from their own daughters? I cannot understand, and all for the sake of Mr Collins, too. Why should he have it more than anybody else? He has done nothing to earn it, except be Mr Bennet’s cousin, and I am sure anyone would be Mr Bennet’s cousin if they knew there were such rich rewards to be had.

Do say you will come to us at Christmas, sister, and my brother must come too, we need you here. Your own children can manage without you if there is not room in the carriage for all of them. I have still not given up hope of Mr Bingley returning to Netherfield for Christmas, and I am sure he would be very welcome here, even if it meant we had to tolerate Mr Darcy.

Your poor sister,

Janet

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy

Darcy House, London,

December 6

Philip, I am once more in London and likely to be here for some time, so pray send all letters to Darcy House. Bingley is here as well and has at present no intention of returning to Netherfield. His sisters and brother-in-law are with him, and I have invited them to spend Christmas with Georgiana and myself. I have some thought of Bingley marrying Georgiana when she is old enough. He is just the sort of man I would like to see her with. He is honest, reliable, trustworthy, friendly, good-natured and good-humoured. I think he would be a good match for her. There is some disparity in fortune, it is true, but fortune is not everything and I want to see her happy. I believe such a match would suit him, too. He has always liked Georgiana, and he was much struck by the change in her when he dined here last night. She has grown considerably these last few months and is becoming a very lovely young woman. But such thoughts are for the future. It is enough that he will be spending some time with her over the next few weeks and renewing his friendship with her.

Tell me, Philip, as we are talking of matches, are you any nearer to finding a woman to take to wife? I have never heard you talk of anyone in particular, but perhaps you have never found anyone you were particularly attracted to. Unless…have you ever found yourself attracted to someone unsuitable? A woman whose standing was so far beneath your own that it would be a degradation to marry her because her family were, let us say, country gentry, with uncles engaged in the professions or in trade? Whose mother talked of nothing but marrying her daughters off, and whose father failed to correct the behaviour of either his wife or his children, allowing them to grow up wild and unrestrained? Did you ever find that, despite all these disadvantages, such a woman attracted you, against your will, and that a pair of fine eyes caught your attention and would give you no peace? Or that an impertinent manner, instead of revolting you, attracted you? Or that her lack of respect for your standing served to make you more interested, and not less?

Did you ever think it necessary to remove yourself from the company of such a woman, lest your interest should become ungovernable and your behaviour should give rise to expectations? And did a part of you feel that, if such expectations should arise, it would be no bad thing? That your feelings would actually like it if you were obliged to offer for her, though your character revolted against the idea? Did you find it difficult to be rational where she was concerned? Did you, in short, feel in the grip of something out of your control? Let me know if anything similar has ever happened to you.

Darcy

Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy

Wiltshire, December 8

Darcy, I was surprised by your last letter and took up my pen to reply to you straightaway. I never thought you would be the man to succumb to the charms of someone unsuitable. You are the last person I would ever expect to lose your sense of your own importance and become beguiled by someone as low as your object of desire seems to be. She is wholly unworthy of your hand, however, as you know yourself, and as she is from the gentry you cannot even assuage your desires by offering her carte blanche; therefore, I advise you to put her out of your mind. Occupy yourself with business, take plenty of exercise, ride hard, make time for fencing every day, go to your club when you do not have company at home, never leave yourself with a moment to think of her. If you do all this, then by and by the attraction will fade. There is a great deal to be said for ‘out of sight, out of mind’ and you were wise to take yourself out of her way. And after Christmas, come to Wiltshire. I am having a large party of friends here in the New Year. You will be amongst your own kind and they will soon drive this woman from your mind.

But before you banish her from your thoughts entirely, answer me this: who is she? I am curious to know just what woman has won your reluctant admiration, for I have never heard you speak so of a woman before. She must be something out of the common way to make such an impression on you.

PD

Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy

Darcy House, London,

December 10

Philip, you misunderstand me. It is not I who was bewitched by someone beneath my station, it was my friend Bingley. He became enamoured of a local girl when we were staying in Hertfordshire. Her father was a gentleman but her mother was a silly, vulgar woman who was always trying to make a match, and her younger sisters spent their lives running after officers. However, we rescued him from the situation and all is well, for when he came to town on business, his sisters and I followed him and persuaded him to remain.

I have just been to Howards and Gibbs to have my mother’s pearls restrung for Georgiana; I mean to give them to her for Christmas. I am debating whether or not to have some further items of family jewellery remodelled for her. She is still a little young for them, but as I am having the pearls restrung, I think it would be easier to have it all done together. She will look very well in them, for she has my mother’s colouring.

I thank you for your invitation to Wiltshire but I am engaged to go to Cumbria in the New Year to see my aunt and uncle there. Maud has just had a child and I am to be the godfather.

Darcy

Mrs Bingley to Miss Caroline Bingley

Yorkshire, December 12

Now, Caroline, what’s all this I hear from your brother about this angel of his? Tell me all about it. I’ve had some of it from Charles, he sent me a letter, but such a letter! I thought, ‘What’s wrong with Charles?’ It wasn’t in his usual cheerful style; it was full of misery and gloom. He met her at that fancy house, he said, and never a prettier nor more agreeable girl lived, but somehow or other she didn’t take to him? I’d like to see the girl silly enough not to take to my Charles. Any girl would be lucky to get him, and that’s not just a mother talking. Now, what’s the tale, Caroline? Has this Mr Darcy persuaded him the girl doesn’t like him? Shall I come down to London and sort things out? Or shall I go to Hertfordshire and see this girl for myself? I will in a trice if you think it will help, only Ned’s not well and the little ’un has colic. I can’t bear to think of your brother unhappy. A nice, pretty girl is just what he needs.

Your Ma

Miss Caroline Bingley to Mrs Bingley

London, December 16

Greetings and felicitations, my dearest Mama.

There is no need for you to come to London or Hertfordshire; indeed, I beg you will not leave my brothers and sisters if they have need of you, for you must not neglect them on any account. It is true that Charles became enamoured of a sweet girl in Hertfordshire, but it was nothing more than a passing fancy on her part. I am persuaded that it was nothing really but a passing fancy on his part, either, and now that he has settled in London he will soon forget all about her, particularly as he has Miss Darcy to entertain him. She is just the sort of nice, pretty girl you would like for Charles. She is unaffected and sweet, and I am persuaded that her family would like the match as well as his. There is no need for you to meet her just yet, Mama, she is still young and nothing is fixed, but do not worry about Charles, he has already recovered from his infatuation with Miss Bennet.

Your dutiful daughter,

Caroline

Miss Caroline Bingley to Miss Jane Bennet

London, December 16

My dear Friend,

As I suspected, Charles is now settled in London for the winter, and we expect to remain here with him, to keep him company whilst he is in town. We will be celebrating the season with Mr Darcy and his sister. Georgiana Darcy grows more beautiful every day, and the bond of friendship between her and Charles is deepening into something more before our eyes. We are all very happy for it. They are well suited, and I am sure you will join with me in wishing them every happiness when the accomplishment of all our wishes should come to pass.

Mr Darcy and Charles are seldom apart. It is good for Charles to have an older, steadier friend who can advise him in the ways of the world, but I believe the friendship is not all in Charles’s favour: Mr Darcy asked his opinion only the other day on some new furniture he is buying, and Charles was able to give his approval of Mr Darcy’s choice.

Charles is very sorry that he did not have time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left, but he has asked me to repair the omission and I do it gladly, telling you how much he enjoyed his stay in Hertfordshire and the delightful, friendly company he found there.

Write to me soon, my dearest friend, and tell me how you go on in Hertfordshire.

Yours ever,

Caroline

Mr Wickham to Mrs Younge

Meryton, Hertfordshire,

December 18

Dear Belle,

Luck has favoured me. Darcy has left the neighbourhood! His friend became attached to one of the local girls and so Darcy whisked him back to London.

It has been a relief to me, for it means that I can now stay here for as long as I want. Moreover, I can say of Darcy whatever I want, without fear of contradiction. His pride, his arrogance and his overbearing attitude have already given the people of Meryton a dislike of him, and it is child’s play for me to fan that dislike into disgust. Whilst speaking always in sorrow and not in anger I have let it be known that he ruined my chances in life. I was forced to whisper this before, but I now proclaim it in the open. The result is that Darcy is universally despised, and everyone feels how clever they were to dislike him, even before the full weight of his iniquities was known. In this way I have protected myself, for if he should happen to return to the neighbourhood, my friends will be so numerous and his so few that nothing he says will be believed. Indeed, the people of Meryton are happy to condemn him as the worst of men.

I have taken the opportunity to paint Miss Darcy as proud and disagreeable, too, so that if any rumour of my conduct there is abroad, it will look as though I am an innocent victim of a slander.

My standing as an officer allows me to live on credit but I cannot live on credit forever and so I must look about me for an heiress. I like Miss Elizabeth Bennet very much, in fact if she had a fortune I would be happy to marry her, but discreet enquiries have led me to understand that she has nothing but a thousand pounds, and that would be gone in a month. I am presently keeping my eyes and ears open, and hope to hear something of an heiress soon. Let me know if you hear of anything.

In the meantime, I hope all goes well with you. I wish you a wealthy husband and I wish myself a wealthy wife, and let neither of us end up in the position of Charlotte Lucas, being forced to marry a Mr Collins!

Love and what you will,

George

Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton

Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,

December 20

Dear Susan,

I am just returned from London, where Mama and I have been shopping for my wedding finery. We have bought white silk for the dress, which is to be trimmed with lace, and a short veil. Mama has promised to help me make the gown so that it will be ready in time. We do not yet have a date, but Mr Collins wishes to be married sooner rather than later and I believe the ceremony will be early in the New Year. I am particularly pleased with my shoes, which are of a silk so similar to the fabric I have bought for the dress as to be almost identical.

We are now busy cutting and stitching. As well as my wedding gown, I am having three new gowns to take away with me: two evening gowns, such as I might wear at Rosings Park, and one for everyday wear. My sisters are all helping, and I think we will have them finished in time.

You ask about a wedding tour. We are not to have one, but are to go straightaway to Kent; indeed, we will be leaving from the church door. Mr Collins has already been away from his duties for weeks, and cannot expect Lady Catherine to allow him more time away. I am looking forward to meeting her. Although she seems to like her own way, as many great people do, she sounds to have a great deal of common sense, and I think we could have a far worse neighbour.

Warm wishes,

Charlotte

Miss Jane Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

December 23, four o’clock

Dear Susan,

I have not written to you for some time and I should have done. I have no excuse to make except low spirits. They are recovering, however, greatly helped by my aunt Gardiner, who arrived today bearing presents, and bringing us news of all the latest London fashions.

She spent much of the day listening to my mother, which was a great relief to me, since Mama talks of Mr Bingley constantly and bemoans the fact that he has left us and has no plans to return. I wish she did not talk of it so relentlessly; she can have no idea how much she wounds me when she talks of it, but I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will soon be forgot; indeed, he must be, for it is clear that he means to return to Netherfield no more. His sister, you must know, put me on my guard, telling me that he is destined for Miss Darcy. Elizabeth would have me believe that it is his sister’s wish only, but I must believe that it is his wish also, or else why would he not return?

With his sister Caroline I am still in communication, and I am glad of it. I would be sorry to lose her friendship. Lizzy is not of the same opinion—she thinks that Caroline simply uses me—but I am sure that Caroline is incapable of using or deceiving anyone.

Mr Bingley may live in my mind as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time is all I need to recover, and my aunt’s company is of great help in that direction. It is of great help to Elizabeth, too: Mama has still not forgiven Lizzy for refusing Mr Collins and will not let the matter rest. She bemoans the fact to my aunt, saying that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before her, and that the estate is as much entailed as it ever was.

I must go. Mama has invited some of the officers to dinner and I hear their horses outside. Mr Wickham is one of them, and if all goes well, I believe he will soon propose to Elizabeth. He is certainly very warm in his regard and I know she likes him immensely. I will write more after dinner.

Eleven o’clock

My dear aunt has invited me to stay with her in London. Nothing would give me greater pleasure, or more relief, for a sojourn away from home is just what I need. I hope that, as Caroline does not live in the same house as her brother, I might occasionally spend a morning with her, without the risk of seeing him.

I must go.

Truly yours,

Jane

Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Jane Bennet

Bath, December 24

My dear Jane,

I envy you your visit to London, and your chance to visit the parks and the museums, and of course the shops! I am more sorry than I can say about Mr Bingley, but he must be very stupid to leave so good and lovely a woman as you, Jane, and I will console myself with the fact that you do not deserve a stupid husband.

I have some good news of my own to report. I think I am not precipitate in saying that, although our removal to Bath has had little effect on my father, it appears to have had a beneficial effect on my brother. He used to be courted wherever he went, and so he had no incentive to curb his taste for spending unwisely and drinking to excess. Now, however, instead of pursuing him, the mamas look at him coldly and draw their daughters out of his path. It has shaken him. He is beginning to realise that he is no longer Frederick Sotherton of Netherfield Park—a prime catch—but Frederick Sotherton of nowhere in particular, with nothing to inherit but a mountain of debt.

At first he sneered at those who treated him differently; then he laughed at them; but lately he has started to drink less, take more care over choosing those with whom he associates and conduct himself in a more agreeable manner.

If Bath has not been the saving of my father, I believe it might be the saving of my brother.

Your dear friend,

Susan

Miss Lucy Sotherton to Miss Mary Bennet

Bath, December 27

Hail!

Do not start back in horror, I beg you, when you see the enclosed, for I have not left the path of Athena, indeed I have opened my mind to her wisdom, for on reading the dedication of this book, which at first I took to be a novel, I see that it is in fact a true story, and that the events described, though seemingly impossible, actually took place. They are of great historical and geographical value, as they occurred in Italy in the sixteenth century. Lest you should be reluctant to open it, let me state the full title here: The Mysteries of Udolpho: A Romance, Founded on Facts; Comprising the Adventures & Misfortunes of Emily St. Aubert.

Emily is a young woman of noble virtue, superior sense and understanding. In short, dear friend, she is a Learned Woman. She would make a very useful addition to our select circle, were it not for the fact that she has been dead these two hundred years. Her conduct is exemplary, despite the many trials she passes through; similar, dear Mary, to the trials we daily pass through, though for her there were more dungeons and fewer bonnets.

With this in mind I read it thoroughly, learning much about the Italian landscape, and the cruel and barbarous banditti who inhabit the hills, as well as the villainous nature of many of the men across the ocean. I enjoin you to read it, and to share with me your thoughts on the nature of the citizens of Europe, who, it would seem from this informative book, are prone to locking up innocent women and sacrificing them upon the altar of matrimony to wealthy, ignoble men. If you and I, dear Mary, were in such a position, forced into marriage by our coldhearted relations, I am sure that you and I, too, would escape by flying through the forests of England and taking refuge on holy ground.

Your sister in study,

Lucy

Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

December 29

Most noble Friend,

Your gift has enlarged my knowledge of the Continent and its strange practises, for which I thank you. I perused it assiduously this afternoon, and could scarcely put it aside when we had to leave for Lucas Lodge, so enlightening did I find it. I believe you are right in your conjecture that, should we ever be forced into marriage with wealthy counts who have murdered their previous wives, we would take refuge in holy places. It is therefore convenient that I am acquainted with Mr Collins, who would, I am sure, accommodate me at the rectory in the event of such a misfortune, and who, I am persuaded, would also find room for you.

Mr Collins was the chief topic of conversation at the Lucases’ tonight. Sir William happened to mention that Charlotte had been blessed with her husband, who was in every way an estimable son-in-law, and who combined the virtues of an excellent living with the blessings of a noble patroness in the form of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mama was so annoyed that she said, ‘If Elizabeth had not been such an obstinate girl, she could have had Mr Collins, and not Charlotte.’

I believe it was this very obstinacy which caused Mr Collins to withdraw his offer and seek consolation elsewhere. Mama was of the opinion that if Charlotte Lucas had not been so artful, Mr Collins would have proposed to me. If he had done so, I might have felt it my Duty to accept him, for although I have otherwise foresworn marriage, I think that Mr Collins has some intelligence and with a settled course of reading, such as that on which you and I are now embarked, he might have one day become, if not a Learned Woman, a Learned Gentleman. And might it not be our Duty, if such is the case, to put aside our own feelings and embrace the marital path?

However, as he was ensnared by the feminine wiles of Charlotte Lucas, such questions need not trouble us, dear Lucy.

Your sister in learning,

Mary

Miss Jane Bennet to Miss Caroline Bingley

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

December 31

My dear Caroline,

Thank you for your letter. I was pleased to hear all your news and I am glad that you and Louisa are keeping well. I was sorry to hear you were not to return to Netherfield, but I hope we will be able to see each other soon, for I am happy to say that I will be travelling to London tomorrow, as I am to stay for some time with my aunt and uncle. I am enclosing my uncle’s address so that we might arrange a meeting. I will be very glad to see you again.

Truly yours,

Jane