Chapter 7: The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

"Guard well within yourself that treasure, kindness. Know how to give without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness." - George Sand

Sorry means a lot of things. It's a hole refilled. A debt repaid. Sorry is the wake of misdeed. It's the crippling ripple of consequence. Sorry is sadness, just as knowing is sadness. Sorry is sometimes self-pity. Sorry is a question that begs forgiveness, because the metronome of a good heart won't settle until things are set right and true. Sorry doesn't take things back, but it pushes things forward. It bridges the gap. Sorry is a sacrament. It's an offering. A gift. But sorry, really, was not about him. It was hers to take or leave.

Darcy had never felt, not once in his life, the urge to apologize. He had been extremely cruel with her and she did not deserve it, when she was all kindness towards him and his sister. He should not have said such things, not that they were untrue, but he should not have judged upon her condition, not only because it was something that she had not chosen for, but also because you only judge a person by his character. He remembered then her expression, as she told him to leave, she was hurt. She had every reason to be. He knew deep inside him, he knew very well that apologies were lovely when they happened. But they did change nothing. They did not reverse actions or correct damage. They were merely nice to hear. He believed he knew her, for she may forgive him; but never forget. He needed her; she had become essential since the day she arrived. She had brought a fresh air and light in his life. Because, Darcy woke up every morning smiling for the thought only that he was going to see her; he laid on bed and her face was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes. He knew it was his fault and this time he knew very well why he had let the dark part of himself out. Maybe he was still jealous or maybe he wanted to prevent his cousin to form a serious attachment; for he wanted her all by himself. He wanted her to be his and only his, but it seemed that he ruined everything. Fortunately, he was aware of what he should do. Show her generosity.

The willingness to forgive is a sign of spiritual and emotional maturity. It is one of the great virtues to which everyone should aspire. Imagine a world filled with individuals willing both to apologize and to accept an apology. Is there any problem that could not be solved among people who possessed the humility and largeness of spirit and soul to do either -or both when needed? Forgiveness is not about forgetting. It is about letting go of another person's throat. When you forgive someone you certainly release him from judgment, but without true change, no real relationship can be established. Forgiveness in no way requires that you trust the one you forgive. But, they finally confess and suddenly, you discover a miracle in your own heart that allows you to reach out and begin to build between you a bridge of reconciliation. But there are disadvantages about forgiving. You see, you may have to declare your forgiveness a hundred times the first day and the day after that, but each day will be less, until one day you will realize that you have been completely forgiven. And then, suddenly one day you will pray for his wholeness.

Elizabeth was alone in her chamber with a book on hand, trying to read, but she could not. She had read the same sentence at least fifteen times and she kept doing so, until she realized how foolish she was behaving. She should not act indifferently, for she was not. She understood his reasons, for he wanted to protect his cousin, he wanted the best for him and he would probably make sure he was going to get it. But, she never believed that he was thinking in this way about her, not so deep as she thought he did. She wanted to forgive him - she even could, but she was not sure that his words had not left a scar. She could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified hers. Because, forgiveness has nothing to do with absolving a criminal of his crime. It has everything to do with relieving oneself of the burden of being a victim- letting go of the pain and transforming oneself from victim to survivor.

The next morning, Elizabeth was in the dinning room finishing her breakfast, when she heard footsteps. Afterwards, the door opened and when she looked up, she saw none but Mr. Darcy. He stopped walking for one second, as he realized that she was there, but soon enough, he sat down. He could feel her gaze upon him; and not tolerating such awkwardness anymore, he decided to speak first. After all, he was the one, who was supposed to do that.

"All you alright?" He asked her and looked up; his eyes met hers.

"Yes, I am"

Darcy opened his mouth to reply, but he chose to close it immediately. They kept staring at each other, without talking. "I am leaving in few hours" he paused "The colonel as well."

"Do you intend to stay in London?" her tone was cold and stiff, as though she had copied Darcy's manner, or to be more exact, the manner he had when he first met her. When he was enchanted by her, but his vanity did not let him admit it, because now Darcy had changed. At least, he could see it.

"Yes, but I have some other business around the country"

Elizabeth took another sip of her tea and kept her look down. "Good"

'That is enough Darcy. Stop behaving like a child,' he thought. He drew his chair near her, they were now few inches apart. She looked at him. "I owe you an apology." He paused "You should know that I am sincerely sorry for the awful things I said"

Elizabeth laughed ironically "You should not be sorry for expressing yourself, Mr. Darcy. One must never be sorry for stating his opinion, if he believes it"

"But I do not" his voice sounded higher and louder than he intended. His answer was immediate and expressed in full honesty. But, assuming from her expression, she did not believe him "Perhaps I did believe it, when I first met you. But since then, I have come to think of you one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."

She laughed and again and shook her head in disbelief "It was not my beauty, which was not praised that hurt me."

"Yes, I know" he replied and cursed himself for not saying the proper thing. He had prepared a speech in his mind, of what he was going to say, but it seemed that his mind could not work at all at this moment. She was the reason of that, because his heart was beating so fast that he could hear it, like if someone was playing drums right next to his ear. "I did not believe any word that I said. It was my vanity, which made me behave thus. Yes, vanity indeed, because it is a weakness that exists in every heart." He took some deep breaths, before he spoke again "There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."

"And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody."

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is to willfully misunderstand them. A man's vanity is more fragile than you might think. It is easy for women to mistake shyness for coldness, and silence for indifference"

"It would be mortifying to the feelings of many ladies, could they be made to understand how little the heart of a man is affected by what is costly or new in their attire. A woman is fine for her own satisfaction alone. No man will admire her the more, no woman will like her the better for it. Neatness and fashion are enough for the former, and something of shabbiness or impropriety will be most endearing to the latter."

Impropriety indeed was a powerful feeling. He would love to see her improper manner; he might even fall in love with her more than he already was. First, it would go slowly, but then all at once. "All the privilege I claim for my own sex -it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it, is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone!"

"I most heartily disagree." she almost yelled "Most men do not know how to love and the few, who do, proved to be disloyal, even though they first claimed a strong devotion."

"A man does not recover from such devotion of the heart to his one and only woman! He ought not; he does not." He took some deep breaths as though he could not breath. He looked exhausted, vulnerable.

"Oh!" cried Elizabeth eagerly; "I hope I do justice to all that is felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I should undervalue the warm and faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy were only known by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything great and good in your married lives. I believe you equal to every important exertion, and to domestic forbearance, so long as- if I may be allowed the expression, so long as you have an object. I mean while the woman you love lives, and lives for you."

They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush. There could have never been two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement. He absolutely startled, and for a moment seemed immoveable from surprise; but shortly recovering himself, he said "Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant."

She looked at him with surprise. What he was implying? She was not mistaken, surely she could not be. He was speaking of his love, revealing himself, make known to her that when he loved, he loved deeply. "You seem to have an affectionate heart," she paused as she realized "You must love somebody."

'Indeed I do,' he thought; 'you, I only ache for you.' He froze for one second; he was too ashamed to answer. "Do you think that my heart has no warmth? I am sorry if you think so, but I must tell you that appearances can be deceptive. Indeed, I am a man of flesh and bones and my heart beats in the same rhythm as anyone else. My heart, I must inform you, is capable of possessing feelings so strongly as yours."

She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling dislike against him, that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature. Did she had already forgive him? Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to clarify her feelings. It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried. So, she did.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked surprised.

"If I say that I am willing to forgive you, that I am capable to forget all those things you said" she paused, just to breathe "Will you promise me that I am not going to regret it?"

He nodded.

"Because you see, I do not want my good opinion of you to get lost, for once lost is lost forever" she teased and Darcy smiled a little "like my cousin, once said."

I think this is my favourite chapter and I must say that I was a little inspired by Persuasion - the captain is beyond perfection, almost flawless as Darcy. Haha I saw the series yesterday and I thought it would suit in my story. I hope that you like it to. Special thanks to my lovely beta, who is so amazing and so helpful!

Do not forget to review, dear readers. Make my day brighter.