Didactic fiction; Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
Amelia declared she had not, but desired she would question her no
farther. "What signifies how I discovered it, since your hand it
certainly is?"
"I own it is," cries Mrs. Bennet, recovering her spirits, "and since
you have not shewn it to that woman I am satisfied. I begin to guess
now whence you might have your information; but no matter; I wish I
had never done anything of which I ought to be more ashamed. No one
can, I think, justly accuse me of a crime on that account; and I thank
Heaven my shame will never be directed by the false opinion of the
world. Perhaps it was wrong to shew my letter, but when I consider all
circumstances I can forgive it."
"Since you have guessed the truth," said Amelia, "I am not obliged to
deny it. She, indeed, shewed me your letter, but I am sure you have
not the least reason to be ashamed of it. On the contrary, your
behaviour on so melancholy an occasion was highly praiseworthy; and
your bearing up under such afflictions as the loss of a husband in so
dreadful a situation was truly great and heroical."
"So Mrs. Ellison then hath shewn you my letter?" cries Mrs. Bennet
eagerly.
"Why, did not you guess it yourself?" answered Amelia; "otherwise I am
sure I have betrayed my honour in mentioning it. I hope you have not
drawn me inadvertently into any breach of my promise. Did you not
assert, and that with an absolute certainty, that you knew she had
shewn me your letter, and that you was not angry with her for so
doing?"
"I am so confused," replied Mrs. Bennet, "that I scarce know what I
say; yes, yes, I remember I did say so--I wish I had no greater reason
to be angry with her than that."
"For Heaven's sake," cries Amelia, "do not delay my request any
longer; what you say now greatly increases my curiosity, and my mind
will be on the rack till you discover your whole meaning; for I am
more and more convinced that something of the utmost importance was
the purport of your message."
"Of the utmost importance, indeed," cries Mrs. Bennet; "at least you
will own my apprehensions were sufficiently well founded. O gracious
Heaven! how happy shall I think myself if I should have proved your
preservation! I will, indeed, explain my meaning; but, in order to
disclose all my fears in their just colours, I must unfold my whole
history to you. Can you have patience, madam, to listen to the story
of the most unfortunate of women?"
Amelia assured her of the highest attention, and Mrs. Bennet soon
after began to relate what is written in the seventh book of this
history.
BOOK VII.
Chapter i.
_A very short chapter, and consequently requiring no preface._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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