Mr. Darcy's Diary

Our arrival was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards we entered the room. I paid my compliments to Mrs Collins, and she bade me welcome. Elizabeth dropped a curtsy.

She is much as she ever was, but the pleasure I experienced on seeing her took me by surprise. I thought I had conquered my feelings for her, and of course, I have.

It was just that the first instant of seeing her took me aback.

‘The house is to your liking, I hope?’ I asked Mrs Collins.

‘Yes, indeed it is,’ she said.

‘I am glad. My aunt has made some improvements of late, I know. And the garden? Do you like the aspect?’

‘It is very pleasant.’

‘Good.’

I would have said more, but I found my attention straying to Elizabeth. She was conversing with Colonel Fitzwilliam in her usual free and easy manner. I could not decide whether I liked it or not. She was at liberty to talk to my cousin, of course, and to charm him if she would, but I felt dissatisfied to see how much he enjoyed her company, and even worse, to see how much she enjoyed his. At length I realized I was lost in my thoughts, and I made an effort to be civil.

‘Your family are well, I hope, Miss Bennet?’ I asked.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied. She paused, then said,‘My sister Jane has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her?’

I was disconcerted, but I replied calmly enough.

‘No, I have not been so fortunate.’

I relapsed into silence, dissatisfied with the turn the conversation had taken, and soon afterwards my cousin and I took our leave.

Easter Day, Sunday 13th April

I had seen nothing of Elizabeth since my visit to the parsonage, but I saw her this morning at church. She was looking very well. The early sun had put colour in her cheeks, and brightened her eyes.

After the service, Lady Catherine stopped to speak to the Collinses. Mr Collins beamed as she walked towards him.

‘Your sermon was too long,’ said Lady Catherine.

‘Twenty minutes is ample time in which to instruct your flock.’

‘Yes, Lady Catherine, I –’

‘You made no mention of sobriety. You should have done. There has been too much drunkenness of late. It is a rector’s business to tend to the body of his parishioners as well as their souls.’

‘Of course, Lady –’

‘There were too many hymns. I do not like to have above three hymns in an Easter service. I am very musical and singing is my joy, but three hymns are enough.’

She began to walk to the carriage, and Mr Collins followed her.

‘Yes, Lady Catherine, I –’

‘One of the pews has woodworm. I noticed it as I walked past. You will see to it.’

‘At once, Lady – ’ he said.

‘And you will come to dinner with us tonight. Mrs Collins will come with you, as will Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. We will make up a card-table.’

‘So good – ’ he said, bowing and rubbing his hands together.

‘I will send the carriage for you.’

I followed her into the carriage and the footman closed the door.

I found myself looking forward to Elizabeth’s arrival at Rosings, but quickly crushed the feeling.

Her party arrived punctually, and because I knew the danger of speaking to her, I passed the time in conversation with my aunt. We talked of our various relations, but I could not help my eyes straying to Elizabeth. Her conversation was of a more lively kind. She was speaking to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and as I saw the animation of her features, I found it hard to take my eyes away.

My aunt, too, kept looking towards them, until at last she said: ‘What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.’

Colonel Fitzwilliam replied that they were speaking of music. My aunt joined in the conversation, praising Georgiana’s abilities on the pianoforte, then mortifying me by inviting Elizabeth to practise on the pianoforte in Mrs Jenkinson’s room. To invite a guest to play on the pianoforte in the companion’s room? I had not thought my aunt could be so ill-bred.

Elizabeth looked surprised, but said nothing, only her smile showing what she thought.

When coffee was over, Elizabeth began to play, and remembering the pleasure I had had in her playing before, I walked over to her side. Her eyes were brightened by the music, and I placed myself in a position from which I could see the play of emotion over her countenance.

She noticed. At the first pause in the music she turned to me with a smile and said: ‘You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well.

There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.’

‘I shall not say you are mistaken,’ I replied, ‘because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own.’