Darcy
Mr Bennet to Mr Collins
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 8
Dear Sir,
I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.
Yours sincerely,
John Bennet
Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 8
Sister, Lizzy is too busy to write herself, but I wanted to tell you the wonderful news: she is to marry Mr Darcy.
I knew how it would be as soon as I saw them together at the assembly. I said to Mr Bennet, ‘You mark my words, we’ll have Lizzy at Pemberley before the year is out.’ Such a charming man! So handsome, so tall! A house in town, ten thousand a year! How rich and great Elizabeth will be! What pin money, what jewels and carriages she will have!
But I must go. The gentlemen are coming to luncheon and I must speak to Cook. We are having venison and fish and six sauces. A man like Mr Darcy will have French chefs, I am sure, and I am not about to let him think that we cannot cook in Hertfordshire. I intend to give him a luncheon the like of which he has never eaten before.
Your sister,
Janet
Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 9
Most noble Friend,
It has been a week of proposals. Mr Bingley has proposed to Jane, Mr Darcy has proposed to Elizabeth and Mama has proposed to move to Pemberley after the wedding.
I was surprised that Mr Bingley offered for Jane because he seemed eager to leave Netherfield last year, and as for Mr Darcy, he has never looked twice at Elizabeth in his life, except to find fault with her and to say that she was only tolerable. I have read much about the fickleness of women, and indeed I have made many extracts on the subject, but it has become clear to me that men are the fickle sex.
I am beginning to lose my faith in extracts.
Your dolorous sister of the bosom,
Mary
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 10
I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but to say the truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as much as you choose; give loose to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr Darcy sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.
Your loving niece,
Lizzy
Mr Darcy to Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,
October 10
Lady Catherine, I am sure you will want to wish me happy. I have asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet to marry me, and she has done me the great honour of saying yes.
Your nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Mr Darcy to Miss Georgiana Darcy
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,
October 10
My dear sister,
I know you will be delighted to hear that Elizabeth Bennet and I are to marry. I will tell you everything when I see you next.
Your loving brother,
Fitzwilliam
Miss Georgiana Darcy to Mr Darcy
Darcy House, London, October 11
Oh, dear brother, I cannot tell you how delighted I am! I have always wanted a sister, and Elizabeth is the very one I would have chosen. I do so hope she will love me as much as I already love her.
When you told me you wanted to introduce me to her in Derbyshire, I suspected you were in love with her; indeed, I suspected it even before that, for you had a look about you whenever her name was mentioned. No one who did not know you as I do would have noticed it, but I hoped then that you might have found someone to make you happy. I know how difficult you are to please—oh dear! that did not come out as it should!—but there are so many women who court you for your name instead of yourself and you see through them at once. I am beginning to know something of it myself, and although last year I could not see through it, I believe that I now know the difference between honest interest and self-interest. At least I hope so.
But Elizabeth is not like that. She is warm and kind and genuine. I do not know how else to explain it. She was so good to me in Derbyshire. She persevered in talking to me, even though I was so shy I could do nothing but murmur in monosyllables. I wanted to make a good impression on her, as I could tell at once that you were full of admiration for her—your eyes soften when you look at her, you know, and the expression of boredom you frequently wear completely disappears—and I was so afraid of saying something foolish that I could scarcely say anything at all. Then I worried that she would think me a fool, but she made such an effort to put me at my ease that I soon felt much more comfortable.
But I think it was when we stayed beyond the half hour, and you then asked me to join you in inviting her to dinner, that I was sure she was special to you. And I was so pleased, even though I was alarmed at the thought of being your hostess on such an important occasion, for you know I do not want to ever let you down again in any way.
That is why I decided to receive her in the salon. The windows there, you know, are my favourite, opening as they do right down to the ground. I was so afraid of doing wrong that I was tongue-tied when she arrived, but I saw by her expression that she did not think any the worse of me for it. I am glad she was so forgiving, for you know I did not perform my duties as hostess very well. Having given orders in the kitchen the night before and having sent to the hothouses for the best fruits, I froze when they were brought in, and if not for Mrs Annesley, I would not have remembered what to do. You will think me a sad case, I am sure! I am only glad you were not there to see my embarrassment. I was very glad when you came in to play the host, and I felt such happiness when I saw your eyes go to Elizabeth. I was glad for you and glad for me, selfishly, because I felt from the first that I could easily love such a sister.