Mr. Darcy's Diary

Ungentleman-like? I thought, as I wrote the words. I had begged her pardon. What could be more gentlemanlike than that?

…let it give you consolation to consider that, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure, is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both.

Not only gentleman-like but magnanimous, I thought, well pleased.

Bingley left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning.

I paused for a moment. Here my conscience troubled me. I had behaved in an underhand manner. It had worried me at the time, for deceit is repugnant to me, and yet I had done it.

The part which I acted is now to be explained.

I paused again. But the letter must be written, and the night was drawing on.

His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered, and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly went, and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described, and enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. 

But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgement than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for having done thus much.

No, indeed I cannot. I spared him a fate which I did not spare myself, and yet I was not easy. I had acted badly, I must confess it. My honour demanded it.