Jane couldn't help but wear the disappointment of the day on her face. She felt silly at the idea that she might have actually put herself upon Tom in such a way. She was sort of glad that he hadn't been there, now she might be able to return to her life as it was. Her life of solitude behind the safe doors of her home for which she had grown so accustomed. But still, she couldn't help but remember the aunt's words. "The boy has never been right since he last saw you...."
Could she possibly be speaking the truth? Had he clung to her memory all of these years just as she had to his? What a marvelous idea, that a young man would love a woman for so long. I must put him out of my head, for he has gone away to London, to his home. Given the way in which she had spoken to him, he may never return again. And she absolutely could not put all of her hopes on a boy that she had loved so long ago. To do so would be foolish and not at all in her nature.
She stopped again, to admire the countryside in all of it's beauty. Hampshire is a magnificent place, even in the rain. She thought. She stood for awhile, with the rain pouring over her, head held high. I shall never leave this place. Not even for a certain Mr. Thomas Lefroy. Even so, the tears came, pouring just as the rain had.
Her hands balled into fists, and suddenly the anger came. "I hate you Thomas Lefroy! I hate you for making me love you! I hate that you have once again come into my life, and into my thoughts! I shall never speak your name for as long as I shall live!" Jane felt a sort of independence with each word. She began the long walk home. "Goodbye forever, Mr. Lefroy." She uttered under her breath, as if she spoke it louder it may come true. And she trudged through the mud, this time with some determination. For she was Jane Austen, a respectable woman who did not need anyone, especially that certain someone for which she would never speak of again.
As she walked, she began to employ the idea of a new writing. Perhaps she had stumbled upon the greatest story of them all. The love that was not to be.