Mr. Darcy's Diary by Amanda Grange (books for students to read .txt) 📕

has not changed, I find

that I have. I am no longer happy here. My house seems

lonely. I had never realized how large it is, or how empty.

If things had gone otherwise…but they did not.

I have much to do, and I will soon be too busy to

think of the past. During the days, I have business which

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must be attended to, and at night I mean to attend every

party and ball to which I have been invited. I will not

allow the events of the last few weeks to discompose me.

I have been a fool, but I will be a fool no more. I am

determined to forget Elizabeth.

Friday 25th April

‘Mr Darcy! How good of you to attend our little gathering!’ said Lady Susan Wigham as I entered her house

this evening.

It was comfortable to be back in a world of elegance

and taste, with not one vulgar person to mortify me.The

ballroom was full of refined people, many of whom I had

known all my life.

‘Do let me introduce you to my niece, Cordelia. She

is visiting me from the country. She is a charming girl,

and a graceful dancer.’

She presented Miss Farnham, a blonde beauty of some

nineteen or twenty years of age.

‘Would you care to dance, Miss Farnham?’ I asked.

She blushed prettily and whispered: ‘Thank you, yes.’

As I led her out on to the floor, I found my thoughts

straying to the Netherfield ball, but I quickly controlled

them and made myself think of Miss Farnham.

‘Have you been in town long?’ I asked her.

‘No, not very long,’ she said.

At least, I believe that is what she said. She has a habit

of whispering which makes it difficult to hear her.

‘Are you enjoying your stay?’

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‘Yes, I thank you.’

She relapsed into silence.

‘Have you been doing anything of interest?’ I asked.

‘No, not really,’ she said.

‘You have been to the theatre, perhaps?’

‘Yes.’

She said nothing more.

‘What play did you see?’ I coaxed her.

‘I cannot recall.’

‘You have been to one of the museums, perhaps?’ I

asked, thinking the change of subject might stimulate her.

‘I do not know. Is the museum the large building with

the columns outside? If so, I have been there. I did not

like it. It was very cold and draughty.’

‘Perhaps you prefer reading books to visiting museums?’ I asked her.

‘Not especially,’ she whispered. ‘Books are very difficult, are they not? They have so many words in them.’

‘It is one of their undeniable failings.’

Elizabeth would have smiled at this, but there was no

humour in Miss Farnham’s voice when she whispered:

‘That is exactly what I think.’

We lapsed into silence, but realizing that my thoughts

were beginning to turn to Elizabeth, I determined to

persevere.

‘Perhaps you like to sketch?’ I asked her.

‘Not especially,’ she said.

‘Is there anything you like to do?’ I asked, hearing a

note of exasperation in my voice.

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She looked up at me with more animation.

‘Oh, yes, indeed there is. I like playing with my kittens. I have three of them, Spot, Patch and Stripe. Spot

has a black spot, but otherwise he is entirely white. Patch

has a white patch on his back, and Stripe – ’

‘Allow me to guess. He has a stripe?’

‘Why, have you seen him?’ she asked in amazement.

‘No.’

‘You must have done, else how could you know?’ she

said, round-eyed.‘I think my aunt must have showed him

to you when I was out.’

She continued to talk of her kittens until the dance

was over.

I did not let my lack of success with my first partner

shake my resolve to enjoy myself, and I danced every

dance. I came home pleased that I had not thought of

Elizabeth above two or three times all evening.

Does she think of me ever? Does she, perhaps, think of

my letter? I am satisfied that she believed me when I

spoke of Wickham, for she has not asked my cousin about

it, but does she understand why I spoke to her as I did

when I offered her my hand? She must. She cannot be

unaware of her low position in life, and on reflection she

has undoubtedly decided that it was not ungentlemanlike of me to speak to her in such a manner. She must

have realized I was right to do so.

And what of her feelings on the way I dealt with her

sister’s affections? She sees now, I hope, that I acted for the

best. She cannot fail to understand, or to acknowledge

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that what I did was right.

As for George Wickham, she knows him now for the

scoundrel he is. But does she still have feelings for him?

Does she still prefer his company to mine? Is she laughing with him at this moment, in her aunt’s house? Does

she think it better to speak to a man who has all the

appearance of gentility, than one who has true worth?

If she should marry him…

I will not think of it. If I do, I will go mad.

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May

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Wednesday 7th May

I met Bingley at Lady Jessop’s ball this evening. He has

been in the north, visiting his family, and he has now

returned to town.

‘Darcy! I did not expect to find you here.’

‘Nor I you.’

‘How did you enjoy your stay with your aunt?’

‘It was well enough,’ I replied.‘Did you enjoy yourself

in the north?’

‘Yes,’ he said, but there was a lack of spirit in his voice.

Have I done wrong in separating him from Miss Bennet? I wonder. He has found no new flirt since her, and

though he danced all evening, he never asked any young

lady to dance more than once.

My own evening was no more enjoyable. I was

claimed by