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is less certain.’

‘He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,

and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his

life.’

What has he said to her? What has he told her? I

longed to tell her the truth of the matter, but I could not

do so for fear of hurting Georgiana.

Once more a silence fell.We were rescued from it by

Sir William Lucas who let slip a remark that drove Wickham out of my mind. For that, at least, I must thank him.

He complimented us on our dancing, and then, glancing

at Miss Bennet and Bingley, he said he hoped to have the

pleasure of seeing it often repeated when a certain desirable event took place.

I was startled. But there could be no mistaking his

meaning. He thought it possible, nay certain, that Miss

Bennet and Bingley would wed. I watched them dancing, but I could see nothing in the demeanour of either

to lead to this conclusion. Yet if it was being talked of

then I knew the matter was serious. I could not let Bingley jeopardize a woman’s reputation, no matter how

agreeable his flirtation. Recovering myself, I asked Elizabeth what we had been talking about.

She replied, ‘Nothing at all.’

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A M A N D A G R A N G E

I began to talk to her of books. She would not admit

that we might share the same tastes, so I declared that

then, at least, we would have something to talk about.

She claimed she could not talk of books in a ballroom,

but I thought that was not what was troubling her. The

trouble was that her mind was elsewhere.

Suddenly she said to me, ‘I remember hearing you

once say, Mr Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that

your resentment once created was unappeasable.You are

very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created?’

Was she thinking of Wickham? Had he told her of the

coldness between us? She seemed genuinely anxious to

hear my answer, and I reassured her.

‘I am,’ I said firmly.

More questions followed, until I asked where these

questions tended.

‘Merely to the illustration of your character,’ said she,

trying to shake off her gravity.‘I am trying to make it out.’

Then she was not thinking of Wickham. I was grateful.

‘And what is your success?’ I could not help asking.

She shook her head.‘I do not get on at all. I hear such

different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.’

‘I can readily believe it,’ I said, thinking with a sinking

feeling of Wickham. I added on impulse, ‘I could wish

that you were not to sketch my character at the present

moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance

would reflect no credit on either.’

‘But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never

have another opportunity.’

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M r . D a r c y ’ s D i a r y 9 1

I had begged for clemency. I would not beg again. I

replied coldly, stiffly: ‘I would by no means suspend any

pleasure of yours.’

We finished the dance as we had begun it, in silence.

But I could not be angry with her for long. She had been

told something by George Wickham, that much was

clear, and as he was incapable of telling the truth, she had

no doubt been subjected to a host of lies. As we left the

floor, I had forgiven Elizabeth, and turned my anger

towards Wickham instead.

What had he told her? I wondered. And how far had

it damaged me in her esteem?

I was saved from these unsettling reflections by the

sight of a heavy young man bowing in front of me and

begging me to forgive him for introducing himself. I was

about to turn away when I remembered having seen him

with Elizabeth, and I found myself curious as to what he

might have to say.

‘It is not amongst the established forms of ceremony

amongst the laity to introduce themselves, I am well

aware, but I flatter myself that the rules governing the

clergy are quite different, indeed I consider the clerical

office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank

in the kingdom, and so I have come to introduce myself

to you, an introduction which, I am persuaded, will not

be deemed impertinent when you learn that my noble

benefactor, the lady who has graciously bestowed on me

a munificent living, is none other than your estimable

aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It was she who

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A M A N D A G R A N G E

preferred me to the valuable rectory of Hunsford, where

it is my duty, nay my pleasure, to perform the ceremonies

that must, by their very nature, devolve upon the incumbent,’ he assured me with an obsequious smile.

I looked at him in astonishment, wondering if he

could be quite sane. It seemed that he did indeed believe

a clergyman to be the equal of the King of England,

though not of my aunt, for his speech was littered with

effusions of gratitude and praise of her nobility and condescension. I found him an oddity; but my aunt, however, had evidently found him worthy of the living, and

as she knew him far better than I did I could only suppose he had virtues I knew nothing of.

‘I am certain my aunt could never bestow a favour

unworthily,’ I said politely, but with enough coldness to

prevent him saying anything further. He was not deterred,

however, and began a second speech which was even

lengthier and more involved than the first. As he opened

his mouth to draw breath, I made him a bow and walked

away.Absurdity has its place, but I was not in the mood to

be diverted by it, so soon after quitting Elizabeth.

‘I see you have met the estimable Mr Collins,’ said

Caroline to me as we went into supper.‘He is another of

the Bennet relatives. Really, they seem to have the most

extraordinary collection. I think this one surpasses even

the uncle in Cheapside.What do you think, Mr Darcy?’

‘We may all have relatives we are not proud of,’ I said.

It gave Caroline pause. She likes to forget that her

father made his fortune in trade.

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M r . D a r c

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