Vexing Man! Was there a worse wind-sucker in the kingdom? To deign to call on an acquaintance to condescend to forgive them their interpretation of your insult. Insufferable!, thought Elizabeth.
How vexing! To be expected to be preening and fawning, operating without sense, and addicted to novels, merely because she was a woman. He seemed to be, in Elizabeth's estimation, equal parts offended that she, a woman, was able to form an opinion as he was that she failed to throw herself at him. Why else would he carry on about how other women behaved around him? Surely he meant to point out how he believed she ought to comport herself. How dare he be offended that she had turned him down and be equally offended when other women pursued him? Arrogant and insufferable! Elizabeth certainly misunderstood the man, most of which was naught but his own doing, as she had none of the benefit of his reflections, nor had she witnessed a repentant demeanor.
"Lizzy, I've been looking everywhere for you," said Jane while turning into their mother's rose garden.
"Forgive me, Jane, I'm most vexed and sorely tempted to give a fit worthy of mamma." declared Elizabeth, though they both knew she would never act as such.
"Surely not, Lizzy," laughed Jane, "I'm sure I'll never see it. You're the most level-headed amongst our household. Papa has branded us the most sensible of his daughters."
"I should hope that is not the truth of it" laughed Lizzy, ''I've discovered these last days that I suffer from fits of anger and flutterings of spirit. Next, I shall need the salts for I am likely to faint from the vexation of it all." said Elizebeth mocking herself to mask her anger.
"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion dear sister," replied Jane.
"Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. Truly though, I cannot laugh at the stupidity and arrogance that was found in my company this morning," replied Elizabeth.
"Lizzy, that is unlike you. Pray tell me what has happened. Hill said Mr. Darcy called on Pappa this morning." Jane gently prodded as was in her nature. Jane, both the eldest and sweetest of the Bennet sisters, meant to lend her serenity to calm her sister's inflamed sensabilities.
Elizabeth proceeded to tell her sister the events of that morning, sparing not her fathers culpability, nor Darcy's insensibility to common courtesy, or even her own ability to keep herself under good regulation.
"Lizzy, I dare say Mr. Darcy cannot be so bad," said Jane. Unwilling to believe anyone could have worse motives she was willing to suspect. "Truly, is it really so impossible that he could have sincerely meant to apologize and could have chosen better phrasing? Mr. Bingley has mentioned his friend, though dear to those who know him well, often does not show to his advantage in company."
"I daresay he does not. First, he slighted my appearance, then my consequence, followed by an appearance in papa's study to slight my intellect," replied Elizabeth.
Jane, though naturally kind, was not without sense. Jane's errors in judgment often came from believing too well in others, where Lizzy's often came from believing too ill. Their closeness naturally balanced both their opinions, as the truth often was found somewhere in the middle of their perspectives, the moderation of both, often owed to the accommodation of the other, seldom failed to lead them to the correct conclusion. Having not spent much time apart from each other, neither sister had much incentive to depart from the comfort of their own way of thinking.
"Tell me, dearest Jane, what makes such a man redeemable. I daresay, you'll see the best in him," stated Elizabeth.
"I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think," replied Jane.
""I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough—one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design—to take the good of everybody's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad—belongs to you alone." replied Elizabeth.
"I must say, Lizzy, people would not be so quick to forget he cut a fine figure if he were not so quick to censure those around him." teased Jane. " Truly though, He ought not have spoken as he did at the assembly, but I daresay you were not meant to hear it. As to the rest, I must believe he was trying to apologize, but his pride compelled him to defend his character in tandem, rendering the apology mute." rationalized Jane.
" That may be the most unforgiving speech I've ever heard from you Jane, and yet still, in your kindness, you've rendered Mr. Darcy quite forgivable, except for his pride" teased Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had to confess, at least unto herself, that she could have easily forgiven him his pride if he hadn't mortified hers.