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

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‘I thought she looked very well,’ he said a few minutes

later.

‘Yes, she did.’

‘And in spirits. She has enjoyed the summer, I suppose,’ he said wistfully.

‘It is to be hoped so. You would not wish her to be

unhappy?’

‘No, of course not,’ he replied hastily.

‘I thought she did not look quite so blooming when

we went in,’ I said to him.

‘No?’ he asked hopefully.

‘No. But she appeared to blossom when she saw you.’

Bingley smiled. ‘Mrs Bennet is a wonderful woman.

Truly charming. And so polite. I did not expect her to

ask me to dinner so soon. It is a courtesy I do not

deserve.’

Anyone who can think Mrs Bennet is a wonderful

woman is in the grip of more than an infatuation. He is

in love! I am glad for Bingley, and I only hope my own

fortune can be as good.

Tuesday 23rd September

Bingley was ready to leave for Longbourn half an hour

too early.

‘We cannot go so soon,’ I said, though I was just as

eager to set out.

‘We might be delayed on the way,’ he said.

‘Not on such a short journey,’ I replied.

‘Jennings will not want to drive the horses too fast.’

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‘We will reach Longbourn too soon, even if they walk

all the way.’

‘There might be a branch in the road.’

‘We can drive round it.’

‘Or the carriage might lose a wheel.’

‘We cannot go for half an hour,’ I said, settling myself

down with a book.

I wished I felt as complacent as I seemed. I was as anxious to go as Bingley, and yet I was reluctant to go as

well. He had the happiness of knowing his feelings were

returned. I had no such assurance.To see Elizabeth again!

I hardly dared think about it. If she smiled, what joy! If

she avoided my gaze, what misery.

Bingley walked over to the window.

‘You should do as I do, and choose a book,’ I said.

He walked over to me and took it from my hands,

then turned it round before handing it back to me.

‘You will do better if it is the right way up,’ he said.

He looked at me curiously, but I did not enlighten

him as to the cause of my distraction. Instead, I kept my

eyes on the page, but they saw nothing. At last the

appointed time came, and we set out for Longbourn.We

were both of us silent.We arrived.We went in. Mrs Bennet greeted Bingley with an excess of civility, and gave

me a cold bow. We repaired to the dining-room. Miss

Bennet happened to look up as we entered and Bingley

took his place next to her. Happy Bingley! I had no such

fortune. I was almost as far from Elizabeth as it was possible to be. Even worse, I was seated next to her mother.

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Mrs Bennet had gone to a great deal of trouble with

the dinner, and it was not difficult to see why. Her constant glances towards her eldest daughter and Bingley

showed what direction her thoughts were taking. The

soup was good, and it was followed by partridges and

venison.

‘I hope you find the partridges well done?’ Mrs Bennet asked me.

‘Remarkably so,’ I replied, making an effort to be

agreeable.

‘And the venison. Did you ever see a fatter haunch?’

‘No.’

‘You will take some gravy, I hope?’ she pressed me.

I had little appetite, and I declined her offer.

‘I suppose you are above a simple gravy,’ she said.‘You

will be used to a variety of sauces in London.’

‘I am,’ I replied.

‘You have dined with the Prince of Wales, I suppose?’

‘I have had that honour.’

‘Some people think that sort of gluttony genteel, but

I confess I have always thought it vulgar.We do not have

twenty sauces with every dish.We are not so wasteful in

the country.’

She turned her attention back to Bingley, and I

endeavoured to eat my meal. I watched Elizabeth, hungry for a glance in a way that I was not hungry for the

food, but she did not look at me.

The ladies withdrew.The gentlemen sat over the port.

I took no interest in the conversation. The iniquities of

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the French did not interest me.The Prince of Wales’s follies could not hold my attention. I glanced at the clock,

and then at the other gentlemen.Would they never stop

talking?

We rejoined the ladies and I went towards Elizabeth,

but there was no space near her. The dinner party was a

large one, and as she poured out the coffee I could not

get close. I tried nonetheless, but a young lady who will

be for ever blighted in my eyes moved close to her and

engaged her in conversation.

Did Elizabeth look vexed? I thought she did, and the

thought gave me hope. I walked away, but as soon as I

had finished my coffee, which burned my mouth, so

quickly did I drink it, I took the cup over to her for

refilling.

‘Is your sister still at Pemberley?’ she asked.

She seemed cool, aloof.

‘Yes, she will remain there till Christmas,’ I said.

She asked after Georgiana’s friends, but said no more.

I did not know whether to speak or whether to be silent.

I wanted to speak, but I had so much to say I scarcely

knew where to begin, and on reflection I realized that

none of it could be said in a crowded drawing-room.

My silence drew notice from one of the ladies and I

was obliged to walk away, cursing myself for not having

made more of my opportunity.

The tea-things were removed and the card-tables

placed. This was my opportunity! But Mrs Bennet

demanded my presence at the whist-table and I could

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not refuse without giving offence. I nearly gave it. I

nearly said: ‘I would much rather talk to your daughter.’

What would she have said? Would she have told me that

she had no intention of inflicting such a