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Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard; and yet, it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings; and nothing remained therefore to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise explained.
“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side.”
“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody.”
“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his GM’s favourite in such a manner, one whom his GM had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no.”
“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on, than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”
“It is difficult indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to think.”
“I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.”
But Jane could think with certainty on only one point—that Mr. Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public.
The two young ladies were summoned from their party channel in vent, where this conversation passed, by the arrival in another channel of vent of the very persons of whom they had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his guildies came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected raid at ICC, which was fixed for the following Tuesday, after the weekly reset. The two dps were delighted to see Jane again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the guild they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, logging out of vent with an activity which took Bingley by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.
The prospect of the ICC raid was extremely agreeable to everyone of the guild. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in compliment to best healer, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a calendar invitation. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of a tank who appreciated her; and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of comparing DPS output with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s behavior. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they each, like Elizabeth, meant to spend half the evening in tells with Mr. Wickham, he was by no means the only raider who could satisfy them, and a raid was, at any rate, a raid. And even Mary could assure her guild that she had no disinclination for it.
“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough—I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of raids and teamwork as desirable for everybody.”
Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s raid; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke from Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to tank.
“I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a raid of this kind, given by a progression guild of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to raiding myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the company of all my friends in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting your heals, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first bosses especially, a preference which I trust Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”
Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being engaged in dpsing the entire raid; and to have Mr. Collins instead think to have her healing! her liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck her, that she was selected from among her guild as worthy of being a healer and of assisting to form a raid group at <Rosings>, in the absence of more eligible players. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment on her gear and ability; and though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before Mrs. Bennett gave her to understand that the probability of her transferring was extremely agreeable to her. Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.
If there had not been an ICC raid to prepare for and talk of, the younger DPS would have been in a very pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the raid, there was such a succession of server maintenance as prevented their logging on once. No guild, no officers of the <Meryton Militia>, no news could be sought after—the very gear checks for ICC were got by wowarmory. Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of her patience in maintenance which totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a raid on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to anyone.