Welcome to our epistolary retelling of Pride & Prejudice! Jane Austen’s original version of the story, First Impression, was told entirely in letters, so it seemed like a great group project. We’ll be posting a new letter every Wednesday.
Caroline Bingley
Portman Square, London
1 July 1812
My dearest Miss Darcy,
What a pleasure it was to encounter you so unexpectedly at Gunter’s yesterday! I cannot tell you how delighted I was by even so brief a meeting, though I confess I was sadly disappointed that your carriage was called almost the instant we had exchanged our first greetings. I had hoped we might have enjoyed at least half an hour together before your companion found it necessary to remind you of another engagement, but I know how impossible it is to command one’s time during the London season.
Indeed, I have more than once had the mortification of calling in Grosvenor Square only to learn that you were either engaged with your masters or already gone out. I begin to think your many pursuits leave scarcely a moment for your friends; though I ought perhaps to rejoice that your numerous accomplishments continue to receive such diligent attention. I flatter myself you have not neglected your practice at the pianoforte, though I can scarcely imagine your performance being in need of any further improvement.
You must, however, promise that when next your engagements permit, you will favour me with a visit. My brother joins me most sincerely in hoping you will do us that kindness; and should your own dear brother be at leisure to accompany you, we should think ourselves particularly fortunate.
As we are speaking of Mr Darcy, I must confess that I have seen so little of him of late that I begin almost to wonder whether London can still claim him. Pray tell me he has not buried himself entirely amongst his books and papers, to the exclusion of all society! My brother declares that when he does succeed in drawing him out, he is as agreeable as ever, though perhaps a little more thoughtful than is his usual habit. However, I am certain that the Derbyshire air will soon restore him to all his customary spirits.
Oh, how impatient I grow for our journey north! I have never met with any estate that delights me so much as Pemberley! There are moments when I think the weeks can scarcely pass quickly enough. I often find myself reflecting fondly on my time there, and wondering whether any improvements have lately been made to the house or grounds. Has your brother undertaken anything new in the gardens this season? I remember his speaking, some years ago, of extending one of the woodland walks. You must write soon and tell me all!
I own I am particularly eager to see the library again. Mr Darcy has always contrived to assemble the finest collection, and I can imagine no greater pleasure than passing an hour there while he recommends some favourite volume, or hearing him speak of the improvements he has planned for the estate. Indeed, I have often thought there is scarcely another gentleman whose judgment I should trust so implicitly in matters either of taste or consequence.
Though I confess that whenever I recall Pemberley, I cannot help but amuse myself by imagining what little refinements might still be introduced. Nothing of consequence, I assure you—for perfection should never be tampered with—but perhaps a lighter arrangement to one or two of the drawing rooms, and a greater profusion of flowers upon the south terrace during the summer months. Your brother, I think, is sometimes inclined to value comfort above ornamentation, though it has been my experience that the happiest of homes can boast both of these things in equal measure.
Yet for all the beauty and refinement of Pemberley, its greatest charm has always been the company assembled there. Do you anticipate a large gathering this summer, or shall we be fortunate enough to enjoy one another’s society with comparatively few interruptions? One does so quickly tire of the chaos of town, and I anticipate with particular pleasure the opportunity to spend far more time with your dear brother—and with you, of course!—than London has lately allowed.
I hope I do not speak out of turn when I tell you that my own brother continues to speak of you with the greatest admiration. Indeed, I sometimes fancy that our families are destined to become still more intimately connected than they are already. Whether by your allowing my brother to admire you a little more, or by some other equally desirable connection which Providence may yet have in store, I shall leave Heaven to determine. For my own part, I can imagine no alliance that would give me greater satisfaction than one which united those whom I already esteem above all others.
My dearest friend, I am counting the moments until we are once again in one another’s company. Until then, I shall content myself with anticipating many happy mornings, long walks through the gardens, evenings of music, and all the innumerable pleasures which belong only to Pemberley.
Pray remember me most particularly to Mr Darcy, and tell him I hope he has not forgotten those many agreeable conversations which rendered my last visit so particularly delightful. Assure him also how much pleasure my brother and I anticipate from his kindness in receiving us once again beneath his roof. We are both sensible that no hospitality can equal that of Pemberley, and I flatter myself that the weeks before us will pass only too quickly.
As always,
Your most affectionate friend,
Caroline Bingley
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