Page 28 of Mr Darcy’s Quizzing Glass

I had no idea, he realised, tightening his grip on the bench between them. When she closed her eyes, thankfully not seeing his struggle, he hoped their argument was at an end. But a moment later, she opened them again and gave him a fixed gaze.

“Thus you rely on a quizzing glass in town, but you did not need it in Meryton, for you assumed it little more than a backwater devoid of culture and intelligent conversation, and⁠—”

Her defiant expression faltered, as if she understood his view had been correct. Suddenly he was eager to explain himself. “Yes, Meryton was lacking in clever conversation and interesting people, much as anywhere I go in town or country, but for you, who stood out without need for the quizzing glass.”

“Stood out? Is this the reason you stare at me? Narrow your eyes as if the very sight of me distresses you?”

“Pardon me?”

She tilted her head, her bonnet blocking the sun from his eyes, and letting him more fully see the confusion in her expression. “Throughout most of our acquaintance, you have looked at me so oddly. Would using your quizzing glass lessen the issue of whatever offends you?”

“Offends?” Startled, Darcy looked at her keenly. “Nothing about you offends me, Miss Elizabeth. I am always pleased to see you.”

“Pleased? Then why, when we met, did it seem you feared turning to stone, as if you were looking upon⁠—”

“Medusa? This is why you mentioned Greek myths?” He chuckled in disbelief before giving her an earnest look. “I apologise...I fear I must explain myself. You see, from the moment I first saw you in Meryton, at the assembly, with this light surrounding you, I was unsettled, fearing I had gone mad.”

“A light?” She stared at him, clearly baffled, until her gaze narrowed. “So you have looked at me through your glass?”

“No, never, I promise you.”

“But a light surrounds me, as it does with those you peer at, those you distrust?”

“No, not at all like that!” The disturbance in her expression made his heart sink. Heedless of their presence in a public park in the middle of Cheapside, Darcy’s words burst from him as he stepped towards her. “Last evening, it would have been the easiest thing to gaze out at those in the loge seats and let the glass drift to include you and your family in its scope. But I did not—I could not. I did not need to, to discover your worth.”

“I-I... What?”

“You are singular, Elizabeth. A warm, vibrant radiance surrounds you, without the aid of the glass, whether here in the sunlight of the park or in Netherfield’s library.” He gazed at her earnestly, desperate to make her understand the perplexing hold she had over him. “You, aglow, unnerve me, knock sense from me, and I struggle to understand why only you, of the hundreds of people I have met in my life, appear so.”

Her disbelief was evident in her furrowed brow. Before scepticism or fright could take hold, Darcy, with some urgency, hurried to say, “It is wonderful, truly. A warm glowing light surrounds you—only you. No one else can see it. I know Bingley is insensible. His ‘angel’ wears a halo but has not the glow radiating around you.”

“A glow?” Looking bemused, she held out her arm, peering closely at it.

The sight of her dark eyes lit up, aflame with curiosity, encouraged Darcy to come nearer, take her hand, and say, in a hushed voice, “You have an ethereal glow, a wondrous, inexplicable light. Without need for my quizzing glass, you captured my notice. Since the moment I first saw you, I was stunned by your presence, and can say now what I hardly realised then, that my fascination has turned to ardent love and affection for you.”

The astonishment Elizabeth had felt upon Mr Darcy’s explanation of the quizzing glass was nothing to the bewilderment overtaking her when he said he felt ‘ardent love and affection’ for her.

The quizzing glass truly is bewitched, and the man has gone mad from using it. After a long moment, nearly overcome by Mr Darcy’s strangely fervent expression, she recovered herself sufficiently to utter some small words of appreciation.

“I thank you for the compliment, Mr Darcy. I am pleased no need arose to examine my character through your lens, but did you instead use the glass to rule out every other lady?” Shock gave way to anger and the words poured out. “You say you look at me with such ardency now, but when you peer at me through the lens and see something that is not so singularly ethereal, would it put you off? Would our first argument compel you to use your quizzing glass and confirm your mistake in choosing me? Perhaps you have been too afraid to look at me through it and learn who I truly am.”

“No, of course not. Truly, this is—you are—unlike any other. Never have I⁠—”

Elizabeth held up a hand. “Please, say no more. You brought the glass to my uncle’s home to examine me and my family. I can tell you all you need to know about my uncle and aunt Gardiner—they are all that is good—but one glance through that device at my family at Longbourn, whom I know you despise, and you will wish to never see any of us again.”

“No, that is untrue,” he protested.

“Is it?” Despite the pain in his expression, Elizabeth continued venting her frustration. “Almost from the first moment of our acquaintance, I have seen your selfish disdain for others. Now I understand you rely on the use of the magic contained in your quizzing glass to save yourself the trouble of speaking with them, and spare yourself the effort of learning their interests. It is a cruel approach to your fellow man, none of whom can be judged all good or all bad. Even God is said to love wastrels and the poor and ignorant, yet you raise a quizzing glass and have the right to judge them?”

“I have explained my position and my reasoning,” he said, his face pale. “You are clever and perceptive, and I thought you would understand.”

“We all are flawed, Mr Darcy, even you. I do not understand you or your quizzing glass and believe it best that we part. My aunt will worry for my absence.”

Mr Darcy, his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with surprise. For a long moment, he gazed at her, seemingly trying to understand her. Fleetingly, Elizabeth imagined he would pull out the quizzing glass and finally gain her measure. The fear that he would see anger and bitterness, rather than the happy, charming lady she thought herself to be, tugged at her conscience.

At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said, “Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

He bowed his head and disappeared from her view.