“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.