Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1813

Dear Miss Elizabeth,

When I received your latest letter, I had formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such as it was, it may well be supposed how eagerly I went through it and what a contrareity of emotion it excited.

My feelings as I read are scarcely to be defined. I read, with an eagerness which hardly left me power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, I was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before my eyes.

Your kind enquiries for the health of my aunt and sisters aroused my warm appreciation, but when this subject was succeeded by your account of future engagements, my feelings were more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension and even horror, oppressed me. I wished to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, "This must be false! This cannot be!"

In this perturbed state, I took a walk, with thoughts that could rest on nothing. But it would not do, in half a minute I was unfolding the letter again and, collecting myself as best I could, pursuing the mortifying perusal of the future engagements that will preclude you from joining us for tea this coming fortnight.

I do see that our humble abode, our plain manner of living, our small rooms and the little we see of the world would make us extremely dull to a young lady like yourself. But I do hope that you will believe us grateful for your company and know that we would do every thing in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly.

A grain of hope remains the only solace for my wretchedness, the hope that a narrow opening in your future engagements might give us the grace of your company. This would be an extraordinary kindness to brighten the hopes of my heart.

I remain yours sincerely,
Gillian King

Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1813

Dear Elizabeth,

I know we don't know each other, or rather you don't know me, but I feel as though I'm well acquainted with you. I want very much to admire you and praise you and love you unconditionally, like so many others do, but my affection for you is half-hearted. I do love your story, your love story if you will; your pig-headedness, along with your husband's, reminds me quite a bit of my own at times, but if I could be so bold as to ask: what happened next? After a lovely courtship/disdain-ship, in which you professed so profusely your desire to marry for no one but yourself, with no thought but love, there seems to be no marriage. You marry and that's it? I want to know what the rest of life is like for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. I hope there are no zombies in your version.

Affectionately yours,
Rachel Manwill

Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1813

Mr. Darcy,

I'm sure you're shocked to be getting this letter via the internet, as you have no idea what the internet is, but I ask you to set aside your biting wit and intellect for a moment and focus instead on the content of the letter rather than the manner in which you are receiving it.

I knew that I liked you from the beginning, even when you rebuked Elizabeth, I could tell that it was not because you didn't like her, but that you, like me, aren't moved to like anyone that you just met. You're shy. I like that. Forgive me, am I being too plain and forward? It's unbecoming of a lady, I know, but I do live in 2010, so I do hope that you will forgive me.

I think you're the most generous person that I know, and by knowing you, I know that I don't know you but I do. You exist fully within the pages of my favorite book and I've been looking for someone much like you ever since I came to know you in the past few years. Lucky for me I found him. He, like you, is an upstanding citizen, who works hard to make other people happy. He seems overly intelligent and unfeeling too, like you. But because I knew you, and I knew how you operated, I was able to know him too.

So I wanted to extend this letter of gratitude. To you, for being who you are. Although you are too proud at times, it is something that we all suffer from, I think. You, to me, are a romantic, and because I knew that about you, I found out that I'm a romantic too--even though we're both highly logical people.

I'm so logical, in fact, I'm writing you an email--ah, but I guess that's the romantic in me.

Sincerely,
Samantha Perry