Longbourn, Hertfordshire
18 May, 1797
Sir,
It has now been many weeks since our last meeting at which time you found it necessary to break convention and secret a letter to me. Upon reading said letter, it became immediately obvious that you believed the information contained therein warranted such a breach. In that vein I find, after many weeks of indecision, necessity requires that letter receive a response. I have taken the precaution of borrowing my father's penmanship to address this letter to you. I hope very much that he remain ignorant of his daughter's most impertinent action to date, and that the receipt of such a letter cause your good name no harm.
The principal concern around which this letter revolves is that which implicates a certain man, which I now will no longer be able to call a gentleman. To this end I am compelled to admit through the sheer shock of it, that any defense of the man by me was foolishly done. The inconsistencies present in his character could have been obvious to me should I have taken a more disinterested observation of our conversation. I now must admit to being completely taken in by him, giving him all sympathy before it was truly earned. Furthermore now knowing what I do of the relationship between him and yourself, I feel it is incumbent upon me to apologize sincerely for my defense of him. My pressing concern now centers on how to protect the family name and our standing in society from his dealings going forward. I understand his regiment to be heading to Brighton in the coming weeks so my concern may be for not, but I do bitterly resent being lied to, and as such wish to minimize the damage that he will do while in the neighborhood with us. As you have not made your dealings with him public, it is certainly not my place to do so. It should be understood that the worst of his crimes remain completely hidden. You have my word that I shall not repeat them. If I receive no response to this missive, I shall act in a similar fashion and say nothing. Should you give me leave, I would like to make known to my father that the man is disreputable, and should be prevented from keeping in society with us.
I now must address the crimes you attributed to my loved ones, where you have been equally blinded as to their merits. Their follies are in some cases more obvious then their advantages, I will grant you. However your fury with me over my sympathies given to that man without a full understanding of all the facts is equal to mine at your hasty conclusions drawn regarding my family. We both have erred by attempting to see only what confirmed our suspicions hastily formed at our early acquaintance. My mother is obviously too vocal in her desire to marry us off to anyone who has the means to securing our lives, but what you may not know is that there is a very real threat hanging over us. It is possible that you have heard-in which case I accuse you of discounting-that my father's estate was entailed away from the female line, and that your Aunt's parson, is the heir, to all my father has upon his death. Should we girls not be married on the occasion of his death, we will be left with very little. It is humiliating to admit this fact to you in so stark a language, but I should think it explains much of my mother's exuberance. I cannot speak to her tact on the issue, because it has caused me no small amount of embarrassment. But I know her, truly know her, to not wish harm on anybody. This is the woman who has loved me in her way since I was a babe, and though she vex me and I her, I will not tolerate her to be disparaged. As to my younger sisters, you are right in that their behavior need be checked, and that my father has more often than not chosen a witticism rather than outright correction. These are honest observations that I cannot fault you for, for I have often thought them myself. But what I am beginning to understand is that we can affectionately tolerate a great deal more from people we love than from people we have decided to dislike ahead of time. My sisters are very young, but they too are not malicious. From where did you think Jane and I learned anything admirable? These people, flawed as they may be, created our characters either as a response to their defects or in imitation of their qualities. I find I cannot continue in this vein for the emotions are still too painful and fresh.
Should you wish to give me leave to speak to my father on the first subject, you may write instructions to me, or to him directly. I typically distribute the post as it arrives, a letter to Mr. T. Bennet will go directly to him without my interference, a letter addressed to Mr. E. Bennet I will assume is for me to read first. No response, and I shall maintain my silence. It remains only to conclude, and wish you future good will.
Elizabeth Bennet