Jane hoped, again, that her pessimism would foil itself, though she expected - at best - a cool, sparse reply concurring in her judgment. Instead, the next morning she received a call from the man himself.
At first she knew not what to say. He rushed for her hand, squeezing it in both of his, informing her that his uncle had given his blessing. He continued, explaining his mishap surrounding her first letter, and the subsequent epiphany he had experienced by receipt of her second.
"Jane," he said, "I may be a selfish, impudent dog, not worthy of half your beauty and goodness, but you must learn never to doubt me. I am so sincerely attached to you that no other woman could possibly wrest my heart from your hands. Please - can you understand that all of my flirting with Miss Woodhouse really was all a part of the act? I went too far, and I am certainly sorry for it...but it killed me to think that you no longer wanted me. I desperately, stupidly wanted to elicit something from you at Box Hill - but the response I received chilled my heart, Jane. My reaction was all I could attempt without throwing myself at your feet. I pray that you did not mean it! Please understand, my dearest Jane... And your letter...can it be true? Are you serious about the Smallridges? Can you look at me and tell me that our engagement, while admittedly a source of great misery to us both which is entirely my fault, is a source of repentance?"
Jane was overcome, and even felt some remorse for having doubted him. She could not contradict such intensity. This was the Frank Churchill she had known months before in Weymouth - the entirely persuasive Frank whom she, and many others, could not successfully deny satisfaction.
"No, I cannot," she replied softly. "Nor," she continued, "can I face poor Miss Woodhouse without feeling great shame and the coldness and artificiality of my manners toward her during these months, and especially of late. Oh, Frank! That none of this would have ever happened! That we could have avoided this evil! This - dissimulation! And the pain which we have caused each other!" She explained to him all the doubts that had plagued her so long, closing with a description of Mrs. Elton's insistent offer and her decision to accept it.
"Jane, that is all on my head, not yours. To think of the despair I have caused you, and the scandal to which I exposed your name! Upon my word, my dearest Jane, I shall never betray you in this manner again...Now," he changed course, "how in the world could that officious - nay, it is an inept description! - offensive woman in her most ridiculous delusions ever hope to force my dear, beautiful Jane Fairfax into the life of a governess?!"
Before Jane could think of something appropriate to say in reply, Frank had already begun a steady conversation with himself regarding the happiness of his parents. Well, thought Jane, Frank is certainly back, and sighed internally yet again.
Frank was satisfied with himself, elated that he had righted his situation so quickly. He had spoken passionately and forcefully to his uncle, expressing his deep love for Jane and his firm desire to be with her no matter what the cost. His uncle, in the aftermath of Mrs. Churchill's death, was unwilling to put up much opposition, and was soon won over. Miss Woodhouse was right. I am indeed fortunate, he thought. I am the luckiest man in the world!
As Frank rushed off to reveal the truth to the Westons, both for their own benefit and in hopes that they might convey the truth and his apologies to Miss Woodhouse, Jane Fairfax hoped that all would finally be settled to the satisfaction of all involved. She relaxed, in quiet joy and relief, confident that whatever the nature of the Weston's initial disappointment, Frank would no doubt convince them into a state of unqualified elation. Perhaps now, she thought, Mr. Knightley might be able to address Miss Woodhouse with the feelings which she knew he harbored for her. And on her own behalf, Jane was happy and relieved that Frank loved her still! Jane's pale, sickly countenance almost instantly bloomed to the notice of all who thereafter came upon her. She was all smiles and good nature now that the deception was finished, speaking easily and pleasantly as she had not done in months!
In her joy, she chose not to dwell on Frank's insensitivity. After all, she thought, now that they could be open about their engagement, it was obvious that Frank was anxious to return to their early, happy situation. He quite obviously adored and worshipped her, and in the days that followed, he would speak of little else than her beauty, goodness, and his devotion to her. Better still, he was continually reproaching himself for his ill treatment of her. He had apologized and pledged to be the kind of husband she deserved from here on out. Jane was not excited about the three months they would have to wait, in deference to deep mourning of Mrs. Churchill's death, to marry. But it was really nothing compared to the eternity they had endured since October. She wished that they could finally, after everything, be happy together.