Pride and Prejudice - Chaelisa Edition

Chapter 24

Ms. Kim Miyeon’s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded with her sister’s regret at not having had time to pay her respects to her friends in Hertfordshire before she left the country.

Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jennie could attend to the rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Sorn Manoban’s praise occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on, and Miyeon boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her sister’s being an inmate of Miss Manoban’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furniture.

Roseanne, to whom Jennie very soon communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern for her sister, and resentment against all others. To Miyeon’s assertion of her sister’s being partial to Sorn she paid no credit. That she was really fond of Jennie, she doubted no more than she had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like her, she could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made her the slave of her designing friends, and led her to sacrifice of her own happiness to the caprice of their inclination.

Had her own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, she might have been allowed to sport with it in whatever manner she thought best, but her sister’s was involved in it, as she thought she must be sensible herself. It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. She could think of nothing else; and yet whether Kim Jisoo’s regard had really died away, or were suppressed by her friends’ interference; whether she had been aware of Jennie’s attachment, or whether it had escaped her observation; whatever were the case, though her opinion of her must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.

A day or two passed before Jennie had courage to speak of her feelings to Roseanne; but at last, on Mrs. Park’s leaving them together, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she could not help saying:

“Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on her. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. She will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.”

Roseanne looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said nothing.

“You doubt me,” cried Jennie, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have no reason. She may live in my memory as the most amiable woman of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach her with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time, therefore—I shall certainly try to get the better.”

With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself.”

“My dear Jennie!” exclaimed Roseanne, “you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve.”

Miss Park eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back the praise on her sister’s warm affection.

“Nay,” said Roseanne, “this is not fair. You wish to think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense. I have met with two instances lately, one I will not mention; the other is Goeun’s marriage. It is unaccountable! In every view it is unaccountable!”