101:003,00[U ]| 101:003,01[' ]| It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man 101:003,02[' ]| in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. 101:003,03[' ]| However little known the feelings or views of such a 101:003,04[' ]| man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this 101:003,05[' ]| truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding 101:003,06[' ]| families, that he is considered as the rightful property of 101:003,07[' ]| some one or other of their daughters. 101:003,08[D ]| "My dear Mr%*Bennet," 101:003,08[' ]| said his lady to him one day, 101:003,09[D ]| "have you heard that Netherfield*Park is let at last?" 101:003,10[' ]| Mr%*Bennet replied that he had not. 101:003,11[D ]| "But it is," 101:003,11[' ]| returned she; 101:003,11[D ]| "for Mrs%*Long has just 101:003,12[D ]| been here, and she told me all about it." 101:003,13[' ]| Mr%*Bennett made no answer. 101:003,14[D ]| "Do not you want to know who has taken it?" 101:003,14[' ]| cried 101:003,15[' ]| his wife impatiently. 101:003,16[C ]| "\You\ want to tell me, and I have no objection to 101:003,17[C ]| hearing it." 101:003,18[' ]| This was invitation enough. 101:003,19[D ]| "Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs%*Long says that 101:003,20[D ]| Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from 101:003,21[D ]| the north of England; that he came down on Monday 101:003,22[D ]| in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much 101:003,23[D ]| delighted with it that he agreed with Mr%*Morris immediately; 101:003,24[D ]| that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, 101:003,25[D ]| and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end 101:003,26[D ]| of next week." 101:003,27[C ]| "What is his name?" 101:003,28[D ]| "Bingley." 101:003,29[C ]| "Is he married or single?" 101:003,30[D ]| "Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of 101:004,01[D ]| large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine 101:004,02[D ]| thing for our girls!" 101:004,03[C ]| "How so? how can it affect them?" 101:004,04[D ]| "My dear Mr%*Bennet," 101:004,04[' ]| replied his wife, 101:004,04[D ]| "how can you 101:004,05[D ]| be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his 101:004,06[D ]| marrying one of them." 101:004,07[C ]| "Is that his design in settling here?" 101:004,08[D ]| "Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is 101:004,09[D ]| very likely that he \may\ fall in love with one of them, and 101:004,10[D ]| therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes." 101:004,11[C ]| "I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, 101:004,12[C ]| or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will 101:004,13[C ]| be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, 101:004,14[C ]| Mr%*Bingley might like you the best of the party." 101:004,15[D ]| "My dear, you flatter me. I certainly \have\ had my 101:004,16[D ]| share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be any*thing extraordinary 101:004,17[D ]| now. When a woman has five grown*up daughters, 101:004,18[D ]| she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty." 101:004,19[C ]| "In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty 101:004,20[C ]| to think of." 101:004,21[D ]| "But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr%*Bingley 101:004,22[D ]| when he comes into the neighbourhood." 101:004,23[C ]| "It is more than I engage for, I assure you." 101:004,24[D ]| "But consider your daughters. Only think what an 101:004,25[D ]| establishment it would be for one of them. Sir*William 101:004,26[D ]| and Lady*Lucas are determined to go, merely on that 101:004,27[D ]| account, for in general you know they visit no new*comers. 101:004,28[D ]| Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to 101:004,29[D ]| visit him, if you do not." 101:004,30[C ]| "You are over scrupulous surely. I dare say Mr%*Bingley 101:004,31[C ]| will be very glad to see you; and I will send 101:004,32[C ]| a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent 101:004,33[C ]| to his marrying which*ever he chuses of the girls; though 101:004,34[C ]| I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy." 101:004,35[D ]| "I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not 101:004,36[D ]| a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half 101:004,37[D ]| so handsome as Jane, nor half so good*humoured as Lydia. 101:004,38[D ]| But you are always giving \her\ the preference." 101:005,01[C ]| "They have none of them much to recommend them," 101:005,02[' ]| replied he; 101:005,02[C ]| "they are all silly and ignorant like other 101:005,03[C ]| girls; but Lizzy has something more of quickness 101:005,04[C ]| than her sisters." 101:005,05[D ]| "Mr%*Bennet, how can you abuse your own children 101:005,06[D ]| in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You 101:005,07[D ]| have no compassion on my poor nerves." 101:005,08[C ]| "You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for 101:005,09[C ]| your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you 101:005,10[C ]| mention them with consideration these twenty years at 101:005,11[C ]| least." 101:005,12[D ]| "Ah! you do not know what I suffer." 101:005,13[C ]| "But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many 101:005,14[C ]| young men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood." 101:005,15[C ]| 101:005,16[D ]| "It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come 101:005,17[D ]| since you will not visit them." 101:005,18[C ]| "Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, 101:005,19[C ]| I will visit them all." 101:005,20[' ]| Mr%*Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic 101:005,21[' ]| humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three*and*twenty 101:005,22[' ]| years had been insufficient to make his wife 101:005,23[' ]| understand his character. \Her\ mind was less difficult to 101:005,24[' ]| develope. She was a woman of mean understanding, little 101:005,25[' ]| information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented 101:005,26[' ]| she fancied herself nervous. The business of her 101:005,27[' ]| life was to get her daughters married; its solace was 101:005,28[' ]| visiting and news. 102:006,01[' ]| Mr%*Bennet was among the earliest of those who 102:006,02[' ]| waited on Mr%*Bingley. He had always intended to visit 102:006,03[' ]| him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he 102:006,04[' ]| should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid, 102:006,05[' ]| she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the 102:006,06[' ]| following manner. Observing his second daughter employed 102:006,07[' ]| in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with, 102:006,08[C ]| "I hope Mr%*Bingley will like it Lizzy." 102:006,09[D ]| "We are not in a way to know \what\ Mr%*Bingley likes," 102:006,10[' ]| said her mother resentfully, 102:006,10[D ]| "since we are not to visit." 102:006,11[A ]| "But you forget, mama," 102:006,11[' ]| said Elizabeth, 102:006,11[A ]| "that we 102:006,12[A ]| shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs%*Long has 102:006,13[A ]| promised to introduce him." 102:006,14[D ]| "I do not believe Mrs%*Long will do any such thing. 102:006,15[D ]| She has two neices of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical 102:006,16[D ]| woman, and I have no opinion of her." 102:006,17[C ]| "No more have I," 102:006,17[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet; 102:006,17[C ]| "and I am glad 102:006,18[C ]| to find that you do not depend on her serving you." 102:006,19[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but 102:006,20[' ]| unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her 102:006,21[' ]| daughters. 102:006,22[D ]| "Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake! 102:006,23[D ]| Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them 102:006,24[D ]| to pieces." 102:006,25[C ]| "Kitty has no discretion in her coughs," 102:006,25[' ]| said her 102:006,26[' ]| father; 102:006,26[C ]| "she times them ill." 102:006,27[G ]| "I do not cough for my own amusement," 102:006,27[' ]| replied 102:006,28[' ]| Kitty fretfully. 102:006,29[C ]| "When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?" 102:006,30[A ]| "To-morrow fortnight." 102:006,31[D ]| "Aye, so it is," 102:006,31[' ]| cried her mother, 102:006,31[D ]| "and Mrs%*Long 102:006,32[D ]| does not come back till the day before; so, it will be 102:006,33[D ]| impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know 102:006,34[D ]| him herself." 102:007,01[C ]| "Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your 102:007,02[C ]| friend, and introduce Mr%*Bingley to \her\." 102:007,03[D ]| "Impossible, Mr%*Bennet, impossible, when I am 102:007,04[D ]| not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so 102:007,05[D ]| teazing?" 102:007,06[C ]| "I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance 102:007,07[C ]| is certainly very little. One cannot know what 102:007,08[C ]| a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if \we\ do 102:007,09[C ]| not venture, somebody else will; and after all, Mrs%*Long 102:007,10[C ]| and her neices must stand their chance; and therefore, 102:007,11[C ]| as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the 102:007,12[C ]| office, I will take it on myself." 102:007,13[' ]| The girls stared at their father. Mrs%*Bennet said only, 102:007,14[D ]| "Nonsense, nonsense!" 102:007,15[C ]| "What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?" 102:007,16[' ]| cried he. 102:007,16[C ]| "Do you consider the forms of introduction, 102:007,17[C ]| and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? 102:007,18[C ]| I cannot quite agree with you \there\. What say you, 102:007,19[C ]| Mary? for you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, 102:007,20[C ]| and read great books, and make extracts." 102:007,21[' ]| Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew 102:007,22[' ]| not how. 102:007,23[C ]| "While Mary is adjusting her ideas," 102:007,23[' ]| he continued, 102:007,24[C ]| "let us return to Mr%*Bingley." 102:007,25[D ]| "I am sick of Mr%*Bingley," 102:007,25[' ]| cried his wife. 102:007,26[C ]| "I am sorry to hear \that\; but why did not you tell 102:007,27[C ]| me so before? If I had known as much this morning, 102:007,28[C ]| I certainly would not have called on him. It is very 102:007,29[C ]| unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot 102:007,30[C ]| escape the acquaintance now." 102:007,31[' ]| The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; 102:007,32[' ]| that of Mrs%*Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though 102:007,33[' ]| when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare 102:007,34[' ]| that it was what she had expected all the while. 102:007,35[D ]| "How good it was in you, my dear Mr%*Bennet! But 102:007,36[D ]| I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you 102:007,37[D ]| loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. 102:007,38[D ]| Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, 102:008,01[D ]| that you should have gone this morning, and never said 102:008,02[D ]| a word about it till now." 102:008,03[C ]| "Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you chuse," 102:008,04[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, 102:008,05[' ]| fatigued with the raptures of his wife. 102:008,06[D ]| "What an excellent father you have, girls," 102:008,06[' ]| said she, 102:008,07[' ]| when the door was shut. 102:008,07[D ]| "I do not know how you will 102:008,08[D ]| ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either, 102:008,09[D ]| for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so pleasant 102:008,10[D ]| I can tell you, to be making new acquaintance every day; 102:008,11[D ]| but for your sakes, we would do any*thing. Lydia, my 102:008,12[D ]| love, though you \are\ the youngest, I dare say Mr%*Bingley 102:008,13[D ]| will dance with you at the next ball." 102:008,14[H ]| "Oh!" 102:008,14[' ]| said Lydia stoutly, 102:008,14[H ]| "I am not afraid; for 102:008,15[H ]| though I \am\ the youngest, I'm the tallest." 102:008,16[' ]| The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how 102:008,17[' ]| soon he would return Mr%*Bennet's visit, and determining 102:008,18[' ]| when they should ask him to dinner. 103:009,01[' ]| Not all that Mrs%*Bennet, however, with the assistance 103:009,02[' ]| of her five daughters, could ask on the subject was sufficient 103:009,03[' ]| to draw from her husband any satisfactory description 103:009,04[' ]| of Mr%*Bingley. They attacked him in various ways; 103:009,05[' ]| with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and 103:009,06[' ]| distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; 103:009,07[' ]| and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand 103:009,08[' ]| intelligence of their neighbour Lady*Lucas. Her report 103:009,09[' ]| was highly favourable. 103:009,09@v | Sir*William had been delighted 103:009,10@v | with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, 103:009,11@v | extremely agreeable, and to crown the whole, he meant to 103:009,12@v | be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing 103:009,13@v | could be more delightful! 103:009,13[' ]| To be fond of dancing was 103:009,14[' ]| a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively 103:009,15[' ]| hopes of Mr%*Bingley's heart were entertained. 103:009,16[D ]| "If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled 103:009,17[D ]| at Netherfield," 103:009,17[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet to her husband, 103:009,17[D ]| "and 103:009,18[D ]| all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing 103:009,19[D ]| to wish for." 103:009,20[' ]| In a few days Mr%*Bingley returned Mr%*Bennet's visit, 103:009,21[' ]| and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He 103:009,22[' ]| had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the 103:009,23[' ]| young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; but 103:009,24[' ]| he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more 103:009,25[' ]| fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from 103:009,26[' ]| an upper window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black 103:009,27[' ]| horse. 103:009,28[' ]| An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; 103:009,29[' ]| and already had Mrs%*Bennet planned the courses that were 103:009,30[' ]| to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived 103:009,31[' ]| which deferred it all. 103:009,31@i | Mr%*Bingley was obliged to be in 103:009,32@i | town the following day, and consequently unable to accept 103:009,33@i | the honour of their invitation, &c% 103:009,33[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was 103:010,01[' ]| quite disconcerted. 103:010,01@d | She could not imagine what business 103:010,02@d | he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; 103:010,03@d | and she began to fear that he might be always 103:010,04@d | flying about from one place to another, and never settled 103:010,05@d | at Netherfield as he ought to be. 103:010,05[' ]| Lady*Lucas quieted her 103:010,06[' ]| fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to 103:010,07[' ]| London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report 103:010,08[' ]| soon followed that Mr%*Bingley was to bring twelve ladies 103:010,09[' ]| and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls 103:010,10[' ]| grieved over such a number of ladies; but were comforted 103:010,11[' ]| the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve, 103:010,12[' ]| he had brought only six with him from London, his five 103:010,13[' ]| sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the 103:010,14[' ]| assembly room, it consisted of only five altogether; 103:010,15[' ]| Mr%*Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, 103:010,16[' ]| and another young man. 103:010,17[' ]| Mr%*Bingley was good*looking and gentlemanlike; he 103:010,18[' ]| had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. 103:010,19[' ]| His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. 103:010,20[' ]| His brother-in-law, Mr%*Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; 103:010,21[' ]| but his friend Mr%*Darcy soon drew the attention 103:010,22[' ]| of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, 103:010,23[' ]| noble mien; and the report which was in general circulation 103:010,24[' ]| within five minutes after his entrance, of his having 103:010,25[' ]| ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to 103:010,26[' ]| be 103:010,26@x | a fine figure of a man, 103:010,26[' ]| the ladies declared 103:010,26@x | he was much 103:010,27@x | handsomer than Mr%*Bingley, 103:010,27[' ]| and he was looked at with 103:010,28[' ]| great admiration for about half the evening, till his 103:010,29[' ]| manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his 103:010,30[' ]| popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be 103:010,31[' ]| above his company, and above being pleased; and not 103:010,32[' ]| all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from 103:010,33[' ]| having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and 103:010,34[' ]| being unworthy to be compared with his friend. 103:010,35[' ]| Mr%*Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with 103:010,36[' ]| all the principal people in the room; he was lively and 103:010,37[' ]| unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball 103:010,38[' ]| closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. 103:011,01[' ]| Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. 103:011,02[' ]| What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr%*Darcy 103:011,03[' ]| danced only once with Mrs%*Hurst and once with Miss*Bingley, 103:011,04[' ]| declined being introduced to any other lady, and 103:011,05[' ]| spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, 103:011,06[' ]| speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character 103:011,07[' ]| was decided. 103:011,07@x | He was the proudest, most disagreeable 103:011,08@x | man in the world, 103:011,08[' ]| and every*body hoped that he would 103:011,09[' ]| never come there again. Amongst the most violent 103:011,10[' ]| against him was Mrs%*Bennet, whose dislike of his general 103:011,11[' ]| behaviour, was sharpened into particular resentment, by 103:011,12[' ]| his having slighted one of her daughters. 103:011,13[' ]| Elizabeth*Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of 103:011,14[' ]| gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part 103:011,15[' ]| of that time, Mr%*Darcy had been standing near enough 103:011,16[' ]| for her to overhear a conversation between him and 103:011,17[' ]| Mr%*Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, 103:011,18[' ]| to press his friend to join it. 103:011,19[I ]| "Come, Darcy," 103:011,19[' ]| said he, 103:011,19[I ]| "I must have you dance. 103:011,20[I ]| I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid 103:011,21[I ]| manner. You had much better dance." 103:011,22[B ]| "I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, 103:011,23[B ]| unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At 103:011,24[B ]| such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. 103:011,25[B ]| Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman 103:011,26[B ]| in the room, whom it would not be a punishment to me 103:011,27[B ]| to stand up with." 103:011,28[I ]| "I would not be so fastidious as you are," 103:011,28[' ]| cried Bingley, 103:011,29[I ]| "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with 103:011,30[I ]| so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; 103:011,31[I ]| and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty." 103:011,32[B ]| "\You\ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the 103:011,33[B ]| room," 103:011,33[' ]| said Mr%*Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss*Bennet. 103:011,34[I ]| "Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! 103:011,35[I ]| But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind 103:011,36[I ]| you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. 103:011,37[I ]| Do let me ask my partner to introduce you." 103:011,38[B ]| "Which do you mean?" 103:011,38[' ]| and turning round, he looked 103:012,01[' ]| for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew 103:012,02[' ]| his own and coldly said, 103:012,02[B ]| "She is tolerable; but not 103:012,03[B ]| handsome enough to tempt \me\; and I am in no humour 103:012,04[B ]| at present to give consequence to young ladies who are 103:012,05[B ]| slighted by other men. You had better return to your 103:012,06[B ]| partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your 103:012,07[B ]| time with me." 103:012,08[' ]| Mr%*Bingley followed his advice. Mr%*Darcy walked off; 103:012,09[' ]| and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings 103:012,10[' ]| towards him. She told the story however with great 103:012,11[' ]| spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful 103:012,12[' ]| disposition, which delighted in any*thing ridiculous. 103:012,13[' ]| The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the 103:012,14[' ]| whole family. Mrs%*Bennet had seen her eldest daughter 103:012,15[' ]| much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr%*Bingley had 103:012,16[' ]| danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished 103:012,17[' ]| by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this, as 103:012,18[' ]| her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth 103:012,19[' ]| felt Jane's pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned 103:012,20[' ]| to Miss*Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the 103:012,21[' ]| neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been 103:012,22[' ]| fortunate enough to be never without partners, which 103:012,23[' ]| was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. 103:012,24[' ]| They returned therefore in good spirits to Longbourn, the 103:012,25[' ]| village where they lived, and of which they were the 103:012,26[' ]| principal inhabitants. They found Mr%*Bennet still up. 103:012,27[' ]| With a book he was regardless of time; and on the present 103:012,28[' ]| occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event 103:012,29[' ]| of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. 103:012,30[' ]| He had rather hoped that all his wife's views on the 103:012,31[' ]| stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found that 103:012,32[' ]| he had a very different story to hear. 103:012,33[D ]| "Oh! my dear Mr%*Bennet," 103:012,33[' ]| as she entered the room, 103:012,34[D ]| "we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent 103:012,35[D ]| ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, 103:012,36[D ]| nothing could be like it. Every*body said how well she 103:012,37[D ]| looked; and Mr%*Bingley thought her quite beautiful, 103:012,38[D ]| and danced with her twice. Only think of \that\ my dear; 103:013,01[D ]| he actually danced with her twice; and she was the only 103:013,02[D ]| creature in the room that he asked a second time. First 103:013,03[D ]| of all, he asked Miss*Lucas. I was so vexed to see him 103:013,04[D ]| stand up with her; but, however, he did not admire her 103:013,05[D ]| at all: indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed 103:013,06[D ]| quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. 103:013,07[D ]| So, he enquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked 103:013,08[D ]| her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with 103:013,09[D ]| Miss*King, and the two fourth with Maria*Lucas, and the 103:013,10[D ]| two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, 103:013,11[D ]| and the Boulanger ~~" 103:013,12[C ]| "If he had had any compassion for \me\," 103:013,13[' ]| cried her 103:013,14[' ]| husband impatiently, 103:013,14[C ]| "he would not have danced half 103:013,15[C ]| so much! For God's sake, say no more of his partners. 103:013,16[C ]| Oh! that he had sprained his ancle in the first dance!" 103:013,17[D ]| "Oh! my dear," 103:013,17[' ]| continued Mrs%*Bennet, 103:013,17[D ]| "I am quite 103:013,18[D ]| delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! and 103:013,19[D ]| his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw 103:013,20[D ]| any*thing more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the 103:013,21[D ]| lace upon Mrs%*Hurst's gown ~~" 103:013,22[' ]| Here she was interrupted again. Mr%*Bennet protested 103:013,23[' ]| against any description of finery. She was therefore 103:013,24[' ]| obliged to seek another branch of the subject, and related, 103:013,25[' ]| with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the 103:013,26[' ]| shocking rudeness of Mr%*Darcy. 103:013,27[D ]| "But I can assure you," 103:013,27[' ]| she added, 103:013,27[D ]| "that Lizzy does 103:013,28[D ]| not lose much by not suiting \his\ fancy; for he is a most 103:013,29[D ]| disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So 103:013,30[D ]| high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! 103:013,31[D ]| He walked here, and walked there, fancying himself 103:013,32[D ]| so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! 103:013,33[D ]| I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him 103:013,34[D ]| one of your set*downs. I quite detest the man." 104:014,01[' ]| When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who 104:014,02[' ]| had been cautious in her praise of Mr%*Bingley before, 104:014,03[' ]| expressed to her sister how very much she admired him. 104:014,04[E ]| "He is just what a young man ought to be," 104:014,04[' ]| said she, 104:014,05[E ]| "sensible, good*humoured, lively; and I never saw such 104:014,06[E ]| happy manners! ~~ so much ease, with such perfect good*breeding!" 104:014,07[E ]| 104:014,08[A ]| "He is also handsome," 104:014,08[' ]| said Elizabeth, 104:014,08[A ]| "which 104:014,09[A ]| a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. 104:014,10[A ]| His character is thereby complete." 104:014,11[E ]| "I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance 104:014,12[E ]| a second time. I did not expect such a compliment." 104:014,13[A ]| "Did not you? \I\ did for you. But that is one great 104:014,14[A ]| difference between us. Compliments always take \you\ by 104:014,15[A ]| surprise, and \me\ never. What could be more natural than 104:014,16[A ]| his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you 104:014,17[A ]| were about five times as pretty as every other woman in 104:014,18[A ]| the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, 104:014,19[A ]| he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to 104:014,20[A ]| like him. You have liked many a stupider person." 104:014,21[E ]| "Dear Lizzy!" 104:014,22[A ]| "Oh! you are a great deal too apt you know, to like 104:014,23[A ]| people in general. You never see a fault in any*body. 104:014,24[A ]| All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never 104:014,25[A ]| heard you speak ill of a human being in my life." 104:014,26[E ]| "I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any*one; 104:014,27[E ]| but I always speak what I think." 104:014,28[A ]| "I know you do; and it is \that\ which makes the wonder. 104:014,29[A ]| With \your\ good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies 104:014,30[A ]| and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common 104:014,31[A ]| enough; ~~ one meets it every*where. But to be candid 104:014,32[A ]| without ostentation or design ~~ to take the good of every*body's 104:014,33[A ]| character and make it still better, and say nothing 104:015,01[A ]| of the bad ~~ belongs to you alone. And so, you like this 104:015,02[A ]| man's sisters too, do you? Their manners are not equal 104:015,03[A ]| to his." 104:015,04[E ]| "Certainly not; at first. But they are very pleasing 104:015,05[E ]| women when you converse with them. Miss*Bingley 104:015,06[E ]| is to live with her brother and keep his house; and I am 104:015,07[E ]| much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming 104:015,08[E ]| neighbour in her." 104:015,09[' ]| Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; 104:015,10[' ]| their behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated 104:015,11[' ]| to please in general; and with more quickness of observation 104:015,12[' ]| and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and 104:015,13[' ]| with a judgment too unassailed by any attention to herself, 104:015,14[' ]| she was very little disposed to approve them. They were 104:015,15[' ]| in fact very fine ladies; not deficient in good*humour 104:015,16[' ]| when they were pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable 104:015,17[' ]| where they chose it; but proud and conceited. They 104:015,18[' ]| were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the 104:015,19[' ]| first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty 104:015,20[' ]| thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than 104:015,21[' ]| they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and 104:015,22[' ]| were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of 104:015,23[' ]| themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable 104:015,24[' ]| family in the north of England; a circumstance more 104:015,25[' ]| deeply impressed on their memories than that their 104:015,26[' ]| brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by 104:015,27[' ]| trade. 104:015,28[' ]| Mr%*Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly 104:015,29[' ]| an hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had 104:015,30[' ]| intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. ~~ 104:015,31[' ]| Mr%*Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made 104:015,32[' ]| choice of his county; but as he was now provided with 104:015,33[' ]| a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful 104:015,34[' ]| to many of those who best knew the easiness of his 104:015,35[' ]| temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his 104:015,36[' ]| days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to 104:015,37[' ]| purchase. 104:015,38[' ]| His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate 104:016,01[' ]| of his own; but though he was now established only as 104:016,02[' ]| a tenant, Miss*Bingley was by no means unwilling to 104:016,03[' ]| preside at his table, nor was Mrs%*Hurst, who had married 104:016,04[' ]| a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to 104:016,05[' ]| consider his house as her home when it suited her. Mr%*Bingley 104:016,06[' ]| had not been of age two years, when he was 104:016,07[' ]| tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at 104:016,08[' ]| Netherfield*House. He did look at it and into it for half 104:016,09[' ]| an hour, was pleased with the situation and the principal 104:016,10[' ]| rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, 104:016,11[' ]| and took it immediately. 104:016,12[' ]| Between him and Darcy there was a very steady 104:016,13[' ]| friendship, in spite of a great opposition of character. ~~ 104:016,14[' ]| Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, 104:016,15[' ]| ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer 104:016,16[' ]| a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he 104:016,17[' ]| never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy's 104:016,18[' ]| regard Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment 104:016,19[' ]| the highest opinion. In understanding Darcy was 104:016,20[' ]| the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but 104:016,21[' ]| Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, 104:016,22[' ]| reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well 104:016,23[' ]| bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had 104:016,24[' ]| greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked 104:016,25[' ]| wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving 104:016,26[' ]| offence. 104:016,27[' ]| The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton 104:016,28[' ]| assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley 104:016,28@i | had 104:016,29@i | never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his 104:016,30@i | life; every*body had been most kind and attentive to 104:016,31@i | him, there had been no formality, no stiffness, he had 104:016,32@i | soon felt acquainted with all the room; and as to Miss*Bennet, 104:016,33@i | he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. 104:016,34[' ]| Darcy, on the contrary, 104:016,34@b | had seen a collection of people 104:016,35@b | in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none 104:016,36@b | of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none 104:016,37@b | received either attention or pleasure. Miss*Bennet he 104:016,38@b | acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much. 104:017,01[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so ~~ 104:017,01@y | but still 104:017,02@y | they admired her and liked her, 104:017,02[' ]| and pronounced her to 104:017,03[' ]| be 104:017,03@y | a sweet girl, and one whom they should not object to 104:017,04@y | know more of. 104:017,04[' ]| Miss*Bennet was therefore established as 104:017,05[' ]| a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such 104:017,06[' ]| commendation to think of her as he chose. 105:018,01[' ]| Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with 105:018,02[' ]| whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir*William*Lucas 105:018,03[' ]| had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had 105:018,04[' ]| made a tolerable fortune and risen to the honour of knighthood 105:018,05[' ]| by an address to the King, during his mayoralty. The 105:018,06[' ]| distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given 105:018,07[' ]| him a disgust to his business and to his residence in a small 105:018,08[' ]| market town; and quitting them both, he had removed 105:018,09[' ]| with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, 105:018,10[' ]| denominated from that period Lucas*Lodge, where he 105:018,11[' ]| could think with pleasure of his own importance, and 105:018,12[' ]| unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being 105:018,13[' ]| civil to all the world. For though elated by his rank, 105:018,14[' ]| it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he 105:018,15[' ]| was all attention to every*body. By nature inoffensive, 105:018,16[' ]| friendly and obliging, his presentation at St%*James's had 105:018,17[' ]| made him courteous. 105:018,18[' ]| Lady*Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too 105:018,19[' ]| clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs%*Bennet. ~~ They 105:018,20[' ]| had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, 105:018,21[' ]| intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth's 105:018,22[' ]| intimate friend. 105:018,23[' ]| That the Miss*Lucases and the Miss*Bennets should 105:018,24[' ]| meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and 105:018,25[' ]| the morning after the assembly brought the former to 105:018,26[' ]| Longbourn to hear and to communicate. 105:018,27[D ]| "\You\ began the evening well, Charlotte," 105:018,27[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet 105:018,28[' ]| with civil self-command to Miss*Lucas. 105:018,28[D ]| "\You\ 105:018,29[D ]| were Mr%*Bingley's first choice." 105:018,30[Q ]| "Yes; ~~ but he seemed to like his second better." 105:018,31[D ]| "Oh! ~~ you mean Jane, I suppose ~~ because he danced 105:018,32[D ]| with her twice. To be sure that \did\ seem as if he admired 105:018,33[D ]| her ~~ indeed I rather believe he \did\ ~~ I heard something 105:019,01[D ]| about it ~~ but I hardly know what ~~ something about 105:019,02[D ]| Mr%*Robinson." 105:019,03[Q ]| "Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him 105:019,04[Q ]| and Mr%*Robinson; did not I mention it to you? Mr%*Robinson's 105:019,05[Q ]| asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, 105:019,06[Q ]| and whether he did not think there were a great 105:019,07[Q ]| many pretty women in the room, and \which\ he thought 105:019,08[Q ]| the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last 105:019,09[Q ]| question ~~ Oh! the eldest Miss*Bennet beyond a doubt, 105:019,10[Q ]| there cannot be two opinions on that point." 105:019,11[D ]| "Upon my word! ~~ Well, that was very decided indeed 105:019,12[D ]| ~~ that does seem as if ~~ but however, it may all come 105:019,13[D ]| to nothing you know." 105:019,14[Q ]| "\My\ overhearings were more to the purpose than \yours\, 105:019,15[Q ]| Eliza," 105:019,15[' ]| said Charlotte. 105:019,15[Q ]| "Mr%*Darcy is not so well worth 105:019,16[Q ]| listening to as his friend, is he? ~~ Poor Eliza! ~~ to be only 105:019,17[Q ]| just \tolerable\." 105:019,18[D ]| "I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to 105:019,19[D ]| be vexed by his ill-treatment; for he is such a disagreeable 105:019,20[D ]| man that it would be quite a misfortune to be 105:019,21[D ]| liked by him. Mrs%*Long told me last night that he 105:019,22[D ]| sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his 105:019,23[D ]| lips." 105:019,24[E ]| "Are you quite sure, Ma'am? ~~ is not there a little 105:019,25[E ]| mistake?" 105:019,25[' ]| said Jane. ~~ 105:019,25[E ]| "I certainly saw Mr%*Darcy 105:019,26[E ]| speaking to her." 105:019,27[D ]| "Aye ~~ because she asked him at last how he liked 105:019,28[D ]| Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; ~~ but 105:019,29[D ]| she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to." 105:019,30[E ]| "Miss*Bingley told me," 105:019,30[' ]| said Jane, 105:019,30[E ]| "that he never 105:019,31[E ]| speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. 105:019,32[E ]| With \them\ he is remarkably agreeable." 105:019,33[D ]| "I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been 105:019,34[D ]| so very agreeable he would have talked to Mrs%*Long. 105:019,35[D ]| But I can guess how it was; every*body says that he is 105:019,36[D ]| ate up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow 105:019,37[D ]| that Mrs%*Long does not keep a carriage, and had come 105:019,38[D ]| to the ball in a hack chaise." 105:020,01[Q ]| "I do not mind his not talking to Mrs%*Long," 105:020,01[' ]| said 105:020,02[' ]| Miss*Lucas, 105:020,02[Q ]| "but I wish he had danced with Eliza." 105:020,03[D ]| "Another time, Lizzy," 105:020,03[' ]| said her mother, 105:020,03[D ]| "I would not 105:020,04[D ]| dance with \him\, if I were you." 105:020,05[A ]| "I believe, Ma'am, I may safely promise you \never\ to 105:020,06[A ]| dance with him." 105:020,07[Q ]| "His pride," 105:020,07[' ]| said Miss*Lucas, 105:020,07[Q ]| "does not offend \me\ so 105:020,08[Q ]| much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. 105:020,09[Q ]| One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with 105:020,10[Q ]| family, fortune, every*thing in his favour, should think 105:020,11[Q ]| highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a \right\ 105:020,12[Q ]| to be proud." 105:020,13[A ]| "That is very true," 105:020,13[' ]| replied Elizabeth, 105:020,13[A ]| "and I could 105:020,14[A ]| easily forgive \his\ pride, if he had not mortified \mine\." 105:020,15[F ]| "Pride," 105:020,15[' ]| observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the 105:020,16[' ]| solidity of her reflections, 105:020,16[F ]| "is a very common failing I 105:020,17[F ]| believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced 105:020,18[F ]| that it is very common indeed, that human nature is 105:020,19[F ]| particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of 105:020,20[F ]| us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on 105:020,21[F ]| the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. 105:020,22[F ]| Vanity and pride are different things, though the words 105:020,23[F ]| are often used synonimously. A person may be proud 105:020,24[F ]| without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion 105:020,25[F ]| of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think 105:020,26[F ]| of us." 105:020,27[W ]| "If I were as rich as Mr%*Darcy," 105:020,27[' ]| cried a young Lucas 105:020,28[' ]| who came with his sisters, 105:020,28[W ]| "I should not care how proud 105:020,29[W ]| I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink 105:020,30[W ]| a bottle of wine every day." 105:020,31[D ]| "Then you would drink a great deal more than you 105:020,32[D ]| ought," 105:020,33[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet; 105:020,34[D ]| "and if I were to see you at 105:020,35[D ]| it I should take away your bottle directly." 105:020,36[' ]| The boy protested that she should not; she continued 105:020,37[' ]| to declare that she would, and the argument ended only 105:020,38[' ]| with the visit. 106:021,01[' ]| The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of 106:021,02[' ]| Netherfield. The visit was returned in due form. Miss*Bennet's 106:021,03[' ]| pleasing manners grew on the good*will of Mrs%*Hurst 106:021,04[' ]| and Miss*Bingley; and though the mother was 106:021,05[' ]| found to be intolerable and the younger sisters not worth 106:021,06[' ]| speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with \them\, 106:021,07[' ]| was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane this 106:021,08[' ]| attention was received with the greatest pleasure; but 106:021,09[' ]| Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of 106:021,10[' ]| every*body, hardly excepting even her sister, and could 106:021,11[' ]| not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it 106:021,12[' ]| was, had a value as arising in all probability from the 106:021,13[' ]| influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally 106:021,14[' ]| evident whenever they met, that he \did\ admire her; and 106:021,15[' ]| to \her\ it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the 106:021,16[' ]| preference which she had begun to entertain for him from 106:021,17[' ]| the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but 106:021,18[' ]| she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be 106:021,19[' ]| discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with 106:021,20[' ]| great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a 106:021,21[' ]| uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her 106:021,22[' ]| from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned 106:021,23[' ]| this to her friend Miss*Lucas. 106:021,24[Q ]| "It may perhaps be pleasant," 106:021,24[' ]| replied Charlotte, 106:021,24[Q ]| "to 106:021,25[Q ]| be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is 106:021,26[Q ]| sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If 106:021,27[Q ]| a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from 106:021,28[Q ]| the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing 106:021,29[Q ]| him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe 106:021,30[Q ]| the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude 106:021,31[Q ]| or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not 106:021,32[Q ]| safe to leave any to itself. We can all \begin\ freely ~~ a slight 106:021,33[Q ]| preference is natural enough; but there are very few of 106:022,01[Q ]| us who have heart enough to be really in love without 106:022,02[Q ]| encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had 106:022,03[Q ]| better shew \more\ affection than she feels. Bingley likes 106:022,04[Q ]| your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than 106:022,05[Q ]| like her, if she does not help him on." 106:022,06[A ]| "But she does help him on, as much as her nature will 106:022,07[A ]| allow. If \I\ can perceived her regard for him, he must be 106:022,08[A ]| a simpleton indeed not to discover it too." 106:022,09[Q ]| "Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's 106:022,10[Q ]| disposition as you do." 106:022,11[A ]| "But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not 106:022,12[A ]| endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out." 106:022,13[Q ]| "Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But 106:022,14[Q ]| though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never 106:022,15[Q ]| for many hours together; and as they always see each 106:022,16[Q ]| other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every 106:022,17[Q ]| moment should be employed in conversing together. 106:022,18[Q ]| Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour 106:022,19[Q ]| in which she can command his attention. When she is 106:022,20[Q ]| secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as 106:022,21[Q ]| much as she chuses." 106:022,22[A ]| "Your plan is a good one," 106:022,22[' ]| replied Elizabeth, 106:022,22[A ]| "where 106:022,23[A ]| nothing is in question but the desire of being well married; 106:022,24[A ]| and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any 106:022,25[A ]| husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are 106:022,26[A ]| not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, 106:022,27[A ]| she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own 106:022,28[A ]| regard, nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only 106:022,29[A ]| a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; 106:022,30[A ]| she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since 106:022,31[A ]| dined in company with him four times. This is not quite 106:022,32[A ]| enough to make her understand his character." 106:022,33[Q ]| "Not as you represent it. Had she merely \dined\ with 106:022,34[Q ]| him, she might only have discovered whether he had 106:022,35[Q ]| a good appetite; but you must remember that four 106:022,36[Q ]| evenings have been also spent together ~~ and four evenings 106:022,37[Q ]| may do a great deal." 106:022,38[A ]| "Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to 106:023,01[A ]| ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; 106:023,02[A ]| but with respect to any other leading characteristic, 106:023,03[A ]| I do not imagine that much has been unfolded." 106:023,04[Q ]| "Well," 106:023,04[' ]| said Charlotte, 106:023,04[Q ]| "I wish Jane success with all 106:023,05[Q ]| my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, 106:023,06[Q ]| I should think she had as good a chance of happiness, as 106:023,07[Q ]| if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. 106:023,08[Q ]| Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of 106:023,09[Q ]| chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so 106:023,10[Q ]| well known to each other, or ever so similar before-hand, 106:023,11[Q ]| it does not advance their felicity in the least. They 106:023,12[Q ]| always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to 106:023,13[Q ]| have their share of vexation; and it is better to know 106:023,14[Q ]| as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom 106:023,15[Q ]| you are to pass your life." 106:023,16[A ]| "You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. 106:023,17[A ]| You know it is not sound, and that you would never 106:023,18[A ]| act in this way yourself." 106:023,19[' ]| Occupied in observing Mr%*Bingley's attentions to her 106:023,20[' ]| sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was 106:023,21[' ]| herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes 106:023,22[' ]| of his friend. Mr%*Darcy had at first scarcely allowed 106:023,23[' ]| her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration 106:023,24[' ]| at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her 106:023,25[' ]| only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to 106:023,26[' ]| himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature 106:023,27[' ]| in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly 106:023,28[' ]| intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark 106:023,29[' ]| eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally 106:023,30[' ]| mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye 106:023,31[' ]| more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, 106:023,32[' ]| he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and 106:023,33[' ]| pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners 106:023,34[' ]| were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught 106:023,35[' ]| by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly 106:023,36[' ]| unaware; ~~ to her he was only the man who made himself 106:023,37[' ]| agreeable no*where, and who had not thought her handsome 106:023,38[' ]| enough to dance with. 106:024,01[' ]| He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step 106:024,02[' ]| towards conversing with her himself, attended to her 106:024,03[' ]| conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. 106:024,04[' ]| It was at Sir*William*Lucas's, where a large party were 106:024,05[' ]| assembled. 106:024,06[A ]| "What does Mr%*Darcy mean," 106:024,06[' ]| said she to Charlotte, 106:024,07[A ]| "by listening to my conversation with Colonel*Forster?" 106:024,08[Q ]| "That is a question which Mr%*Darcy only can answer." 106:024,09[A ]| "But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him 106:024,10[A ]| know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical 106:024,11[A ]| eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, 106:024,12[A ]| I shall soon grow afraid of him." 106:024,13[' ]| On his approaching them soon afterwards, though 106:024,14[' ]| without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss*Lucas 106:024,15[' ]| defied her friend to mention such a subject to him, 106:024,16[' ]| which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she 106:024,17[' ]| turned to him and said, 106:024,18[A ]| "Did not you think, Mr%*Darcy, that I expressed myself 106:024,19[A ]| uncommonly well just now, when I was teazing Colonel*Forster 106:024,20[A ]| to give us a ball at Meryton?" 106:024,21[B ]| "With great energy; ~~ but it is a subject which always 106:024,22[B ]| makes a lady energetic." 106:024,23[A ]| "You are severe on us." 106:024,24[Q ]| "It will be \her\ turn soon to be teazed," 106:024,24[' ]| said Miss*Lucas. 106:024,25[Q ]| "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and 106:024,26[Q ]| you know what follows." 106:024,27[A ]| "You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! ~~ 106:024,28[A ]| always wanting me to play and sing before any*body and 106:024,29[A ]| every*body! ~~ If my vanity had taken a musical turn, 106:024,30[A ]| you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would 106:024,31[A ]| really rather not sit down before those who must be in 106:024,32[A ]| the habit of hearing the very best performers." 106:024,32[' ]| On Miss*Lucas's 106:024,33[' ]| persevering, however, she added, 106:024,33[A ]| "Very well; 106:024,34[A ]| if it must be so, it must." 106:024,34[' ]| And gravely glancing at 106:024,35[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, 106:024,35[A ]| "There is a fine old saying, which every*body 106:024,36[A ]| here is of course familiar with ~~ ""Keep your breath to cool 106:024,37[A ]| your porridge,"" ~~ and I shall keep mine to swell my 106:024,38[A ]| song." 106:025,01[' ]| Her performance was pleasing, though by no means 106:025,02[' ]| capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply 106:025,03[' ]| to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she 106:025,04[' ]| was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister 106:025,05[' ]| Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain 106:025,06[' ]| one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, 106:025,07[' ]| was always impatient for display. 106:025,08[' ]| Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity 106:025,09[' ]| had given her application, it had given her likewise a 106:025,10[' ]| pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have 106:025,11[' ]| injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. 106:025,12[' ]| Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with 106:025,13[' ]| much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; 106:025,14[' ]| and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase 106:025,15[' ]| praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at 106:025,16[' ]| the request of her younger sisters, who with some of the 106:025,17[' ]| Lucases and two or three officers joined eagerly in dancing 106:025,18[' ]| at one end of the room. 106:025,19[' ]| Mr%*Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such 106:025,20[' ]| a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, 106:025,21[' ]| and was too much engrossed by his own thoughts 106:025,22[' ]| to perceive that Sir*William*Lucas was his neighbour, till 106:025,23[' ]| Sir*William thus began. 106:025,24[R ]| "What a charming amusement for young people this 106:025,25[R ]| is, Mr%*Darcy! ~~ There is nothing like dancing after all. ~~ 106:025,26[R ]| I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished 106:025,27[R ]| societies." 106:025,28[B ]| "Certainly, Sir; ~~ and it has the advantage also of 106:025,29[B ]| being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the 106:025,30[B ]| world. ~~ Every savage can dance." 106:025,31[' ]| Sir*William only smiled. 106:025,31[R ]| "Your friend performs 106:025,32[R ]| delightfully;" 106:025,32[' ]| he continued after a pause, on seeing 106:025,33[' ]| Bingley join the group; ~~ 106:025,33[R ]| "and I doubt not that you are 106:025,34[R ]| an adept in the science yourself, Mr%*Darcy." 106:025,35[B ]| "You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir." 106:025,36[R ]| "Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure 106:025,37[R ]| from the sight. Do you often dance at St%*James's?" 106:025,38[B ]| "Never, sir." 106:026,01[R ]| "Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to 106:026,02[R ]| the place?" 106:026,03[B ]| "It is a compliment which I never pay to any place 106:026,04[B ]| if I can avoid it." 106:026,05[R ]| "You have a house in town, I conclude?" 106:026,06[' ]| Mr%*Darcy bowed. 106:026,07[R ]| "I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself ~~ 106:026,08[R ]| for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel 106:026,09[R ]| quite certain that the air of London would agree with 106:026,10[R ]| Lady*Lucas." 106:026,11[' ]| He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion 106:026,12[' ]| was not disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that 106:026,13[' ]| instant moving towards them, he was struck with the 106:026,14[' ]| notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her, 106:026,15[R ]| "My dear Miss*Eliza, why are not you dancing? ~~ 106:026,16[R ]| Mr%*Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady 106:026,17[R ]| to you as a very desirable partner. ~~ You cannot refuse 106:026,18[R ]| to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you." 106:026,19[' ]| And taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr%*Darcy, 106:026,20[' ]| who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to 106:026,21[' ]| receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with 106:026,22[' ]| some discomposure to Sir*William, 106:026,23[A ]| "Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. ~~ 106:026,24[A ]| I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in 106:026,25[A ]| order to beg for a partner." 106:026,26[' ]| Mr%*Darcy with grave propriety requested to be allowed 106:026,27[' ]| the honour of her hand; but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; 106:026,28[' ]| nor did Sir*William at all shake her purpose by his 106:026,29[' ]| attempt at persuasion. 106:026,30[R ]| "You excel so much in the dance, Miss*Eliza, that it is 106:026,31[R ]| cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though 106:026,32[R ]| this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can 106:026,33[R ]| have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour." 106:026,34[A ]| "Mr%*Darcy is all politeness," 106:026,34[' ]| said Elizabeth, smiling. 106:026,35[R ]| "He is indeed ~~ but considering the inducement, my 106:026,36[R ]| dear Miss*Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; 106:026,37[R ]| for who would object to such a partner?" 106:026,38[' ]| Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her 106:027,01[' ]| resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and 106:027,02[' ]| he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus 106:027,03[' ]| accosted by Miss*Bingley, 106:027,04[J ]| "I can guess the subject of your reverie." 106:027,05[B ]| "I should imagine not." 106:027,06[J ]| "You are considering how insupportable it would be 106:027,07[J ]| to pass many evenings in this manner ~~ in such society; 106:027,08[J ]| and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never 106:027,09[J ]| more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the 106:027,10[J ]| nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these 106:027,11[J ]| people! ~~ What would I give to hear your strictures on 106:027,12[J ]| them!" 106:027,13[B ]| "Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My 106:027,14[B ]| mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating 106:027,15[B ]| on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes 106:027,16[B ]| in the face of a pretty woman can bestow." 106:027,17[' ]| Miss*Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, 106:027,18[' ]| and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit 106:027,19[' ]| of inspiring such reflections. Mr%*Darcy replied with 106:027,20[' ]| great intrepidity, 106:027,21[B ]| "Miss*Elizabeth*Bennet." 106:027,22[J ]| "Miss*Elizabeth*Bennet!" 106:027,22[' ]| repeated Miss*Bingley. 106:027,23[J ]| "I am all astonishment. How long has she been such 106:027,24[J ]| a favourite? ~~ and pray when am I to wish you joy?" 106:027,25[B ]| "That is exactly the question which I expected you 106:027,26[B ]| to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps 106:027,27[B ]| from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a 106:027,28[B ]| moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy." 106:027,29[J ]| "Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider 106:027,30[J ]| the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming 106:027,31[J ]| mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always 106:027,32[J ]| at Pemberley with you." 106:027,33[' ]| He listened to her with perfect indifference, while she 106:027,34[' ]| chose to entertain herself in this manner, and as his composure 106:027,35[' ]| convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long. 107:028,01[' ]| Mr%*Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an 107:028,02[' ]| estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for 107:028,03[' ]| his daughters, was entailed in default of heirs male, on 107:028,04[' ]| a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, though 107:028,05[' ]| ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the 107:028,06[' ]| deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in 107:028,07[' ]| Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds. 107:028,08[' ]| She had a sister married to a Mr%*Phillips, who had 107:028,09[' ]| been a clerk to their father, and succeeded him in the 107:028,10[' ]| business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable 107:028,11[' ]| line of trade. 107:028,12[' ]| The village of Longbourn was only one mile from 107:028,13[' ]| Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young 107:028,14[' ]| ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four 107:028,15[' ]| times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a 107:028,16[' ]| milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest 107:028,17[' ]| of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly 107:028,18[' ]| frequent in these attentions; their minds were more 107:028,19[' ]| vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better offered, 107:028,20[' ]| a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning 107:028,21[' ]| hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and 107:028,22[' ]| however bare of news the country in general might be, 107:028,23[' ]| they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. 107:028,24[' ]| At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news 107:028,25[' ]| and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment 107:028,26[' ]| in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, 107:028,27[' ]| and Meryton was the head*quarters. 107:028,28[' ]| Their visits to Mrs%*Philips were now productive of 107:028,29[' ]| the most interesting intelligence. Every day added 107:028,30[' ]| something to their knowledge of the officers' names and 107:028,31[' ]| connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and 107:028,32[' ]| at length they began to know the officers themselves. 107:028,33[' ]| Mr%*Philips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces 107:029,01[' ]| a source of felicity unknown before. They could talk of 107:029,02[' ]| nothing but officers; and Mr%*Bingley's large fortune, 107:029,03[' ]| the mention of which gave animation to their mother, 107:029,04[' ]| was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals 107:029,05[' ]| of an ensign. 107:029,06[' ]| After listening one morning to their effusions on this 107:029,07[' ]| subject, Mr%*Bennet coolly observed, 107:029,08[C ]| "From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, 107:029,09[C ]| you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have 107:029,10[C ]| suspected it some time, but I am now convinced." 107:029,11[' ]| Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but 107:029,12[' ]| Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her 107:029,13[' ]| admiration of Captain*Carter, and her hope of seeing him 107:029,14[' ]| in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning 107:029,15[' ]| to London. 107:029,16[D ]| "I am astonished, my dear," 107:029,16[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet, 107:029,16[D ]| "that 107:029,17[D ]| you should be so ready to think your own children silly. 107:029,18[D ]| If I wished to think slightingly of any*body's children, 107:029,19[D ]| it should not be of my own however." 107:029,20[C ]| "If my children are silly I must hope to be always 107:029,21[C ]| sensible of it." 107:029,22[D ]| "Yes ~~ but as it happens, they are all of them very 107:029,23[D ]| clever." 107:029,24[C ]| "This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we 107:029,25[C ]| do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided 107:029,26[C ]| in every particular, but I must so far differ from you 107:029,27[C ]| as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly 107:029,28[C ]| foolish." 107:029,29[D ]| "My dear Mr%*Bennet, you must not expect such girls 107:029,30[D ]| to have the sense of their father and mother. ~~ When 107:029,31[D ]| they get to our age I dare say they will not think about 107:029,32[D ]| officers any more than we do. I remember the time when 107:029,33[D ]| I liked a red coat myself very well ~~ and indeed so I do 107:029,34[D ]| still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with 107:029,35[D ]| five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls, 107:029,36[D ]| I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel*Forster 107:029,37[D ]| looked very becoming the other night at Sir*William's in 107:029,38[D ]| his regimentals." 107:030,01[H ]| "Mama," 107:030,01[' ]| cried Lydia, 107:030,01[H ]| "my aunt says that Colonel*Forster 107:030,02[H ]| and Captain*Carter do not go so often to Miss*Watson's 107:030,03[H ]| as they did when they first came; she sees 107:030,04[H ]| them now very often standing in Clarke's library." 107:030,05[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of 107:030,06[' ]| the footman with a note for Miss*Bennet; it came from 107:030,07[' ]| Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs%*Bennet's 107:030,08[' ]| eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly 107:030,09[' ]| calling out, while her daughter read, 107:030,10[D ]| "Well, Jane, who is it from? what is it about? what 107:030,11[D ]| does he say? Well, Jane make haste and tell us; make 107:030,12[D ]| haste, my love." 107:030,13[E ]| "It is from Miss*Bingley," 107:030,13[' ]| said Jane, and then read 107:030,14[' ]| it aloud. 107:030,15[' ]| 107:030,16[J ]| "My dear Friend, 107:030,17[J ]| "If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day 107:030,18[J ]| with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each 107:030,19[J ]| other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's te^te-a`-te^te 107:030,20[J ]| between two women can never end without a quarrel. 107:030,21[J ]| Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My 107:030,22[J ]| brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. 107:030,23[J ]| Yours ever, 107:030,24[J ]| "CAROLINE*BINGLEY." 107:030,25[J ]| 107:030,26[H ]| "With the officers!" 107:030,26[' ]| cried Lydia. 107:030,26[H ]| "I wonder my 107:030,27[H ]| aunt did not tell us of \that\." 107:030,28[D ]| "Dining out," 107:030,28[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet, 107:030,28[D ]| "that is very unlucky." 107:030,29[D ]| 107:030,30[E ]| "Can I have the carriage?" 107:030,30[' ]| said Jane. 107:030,31[D ]| "No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because 107:030,32[D ]| it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night." 107:030,33[A ]| "That would be a good scheme," 107:030,33[' ]| said Elizabeth, 107:030,33[A ]| "if you 107:030,34[A ]| were sure that they would not offer to send her home." 107:030,35[D ]| "Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr%*Bingley's chaise 107:030,36[D ]| to go to Meryton; and the Hursts have no horses to 107:030,37[D ]| theirs." 107:030,38[E ]| "I had much rather go in the coach." 107:030,39[D ]| "But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, 107:031,01[D ]| I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr%*Bennett, 107:031,02[D ]| are not they?" 107:031,03[C ]| "They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can 107:031,04[C ]| get them." 107:031,05[A ]| "But if you have got them to*day," 107:031,05[' ]| said Elizabeth, 107:031,06[A ]| "my mother's purpose will be answered." 107:031,07[' ]| She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment 107:031,08[' ]| that the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore 107:031,09[' ]| obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her 107:031,10[' ]| to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. 107:031,11[' ]| Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long 107:031,12[' ]| before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but 107:031,13[' ]| her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole 107:031,14[' ]| evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not 107:031,15[' ]| come back. 107:031,16[D ]| "This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" 107:031,16[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet, 107:031,17[' ]| more than once, as if the credit of making it rain 107:031,18[' ]| were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she 107:031,19[' ]| was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast 107:031,20[' ]| was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield 107:031,21[' ]| brought the following note for Elizabeth: 107:031,22[E ]| "My dearest Lizzy, 107:031,23[E ]| "I find myself very unwell this morning, which, 107:031,24[E ]| I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through 107:031,25[E ]| yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning 107:031,26[E ]| home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing 107:031,27[E ]| Mr%*Jones ~~ therefore do not be alarmed if you should 107:031,28[E ]| hear of his having been to me ~~ and excepting a sore-throat 107:031,29[E ]| and head-ache there is not much the matter with 107:031,30[E ]| me. 107:031,31[E ]| "Yours, &c%" 107:031,32[C ]| "Well, my dear," 107:031,32[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet, when Elizabeth had 107:031,33[' ]| read the note aloud, 107:031,33[C ]| "if your daughter should have a 107:031,34[C ]| dangerous fit of illness, if she should die, it would be 107:031,35[C ]| a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr%*Bingley, 107:031,36[C ]| and under your orders." 107:031,37[D ]| "Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People 107:031,38[D ]| do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good 107:032,01[D ]| care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. 107:032,02[D ]| I would go and see her, if I could have the carriage." 107:032,03[' ]| Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go 107:032,04[' ]| to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as 107:032,05[' ]| she was no horse-woman, walking was her only alternative. 107:032,06[' ]| She declared her resolution. 107:032,07[D ]| "How can you be so silly," 107:032,07[' ]| cried her mother, 107:032,07[D ]| "as to 107:032,08[D ]| think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be 107:032,09[D ]| fit to be seen when you get there." 107:032,10[A ]| "I shall be very fit to see Jane ~~ which is all I want." 107:032,11[C ]| "Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," 107:032,11[' ]| said her father, 107:032,11[C ]| "to send 107:032,12[C ]| for the horses?" 107:032,13[A ]| "No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The 107:032,14[A ]| distance is nothing, when one has a motive; only three 107:032,15[A ]| miles. I shall be back by dinner." 107:032,16[F ]| "I admire the activity of your benevolence," 107:032,16[' ]| observed 107:032,17[' ]| Mary, 107:032,17[F ]| "but every impulse of feeling should be guided by 107:032,18[F ]| reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be 107:032,19[F ]| in proportion to what is required." 107:032,20[Y ]| "We will go as far as Meryton with you," 107:032,20[' ]| said Catherine 107:032,21[' ]| and Lydia. ~~ Elizabeth accepted their company, and the 107:032,22[' ]| three young ladies set off together. 107:032,23[H ]| "If we make haste," 107:032,23[' ]| said Lydia, as they walked along, 107:032,24[H ]| "perhaps we may see something of Captain*Carter before 107:032,25[H ]| he goes." 107:032,26[' ]| In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired 107:032,27[' ]| to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth 107:032,28[' ]| continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a 107:032,29[' ]| quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles 107:032,30[' ]| with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within 107:032,31[' ]| view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and 107:032,32[' ]| a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. 107:032,33[' ]| She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all 107:032,34[' ]| but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance 107:032,35[' ]| created a great deal of surprise. ~~ That she should have 107:032,36[' ]| walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty 107:032,37[' ]| weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs%*Hurst 107:032,38[' ]| and Miss*Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced 107:033,01[' ]| that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, 107:033,02[' ]| however, very politely by them; and in their brother's 107:033,03[' ]| manners there was something better than politeness; 107:033,04[' ]| there was good*humour and kindness. ~~ Mr%*Darcy said 107:033,05[' ]| very little, and Mr%*Hurst nothing at all. The former 107:033,06[' ]| was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which 107:033,07[' ]| exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to 107:033,08[' ]| the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The 107:033,09[' ]| latter was thinking only of his breakfast. 107:033,10[' ]| Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably 107:033,11[' ]| answered. 107:033,11@x | Miss*Bennet had slept ill, and though up, 107:033,12@x | was very feverish and not well enough to leave her room. 107:033,13[' ]| Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and 107:033,14[' ]| Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving 107:033,15[' ]| alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how 107:033,16[' ]| much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her 107:033,17[' ]| entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, 107:033,18[' ]| and when Miss*Bingley left them together, 107:033,19[' ]| could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for 107:033,20[' ]| the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth 107:033,21[' ]| silently attended her. 107:033,22[' ]| When breakfast was over, they were joined by the 107:033,23[' ]| sisters; and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when 107:033,24[' ]| she saw how much affection and solicitude they shewed 107:033,25[' ]| for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined 107:033,26[' ]| his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had 107:033,27[' ]| caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to 107:033,28[' ]| get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and 107:033,29[' ]| promised her some draughts. The advice was followed 107:033,30[' ]| readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her 107:033,31[' ]| head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room 107:033,32[' ]| for a moment, nor were the other ladies often absent; 107:033,33[' ]| the gentlemen being out, they had in fact nothing to do 107:033,34[' ]| elsewhere. 107:033,35[' ]| When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she 107:033,36[' ]| must go; and very unwillingly said so. Miss*Bingley 107:033,37[' ]| offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little 107:033,38[' ]| pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern 107:034,01[' ]| in parting with her, that Miss*Bingley was obliged to 107:034,02[' ]| convert the offer of the chaise into an invitation to remain 107:034,03[' ]| at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully 107:034,04[' ]| consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn 107:034,05[' ]| to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring back 107:034,06[' ]| a supply of clothes. 108:035,01[' ]| At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and 108:035,02[' ]| at half past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To 108:035,03[' ]| the civil enquiries which then poured in, and amongst 108:035,04[' ]| which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much 108:035,05[' ]| superior solicitude of Mr%*Bingley's, she could not make 108:035,06[' ]| a very favourable answer. 108:035,06@a | Jane was by no means better. 108:035,07[' ]| The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times 108:035,08@y | how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have 108:035,09@y | a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill 108:035,10@y | themselves; 108:035,10[' ]| and then thought no more of the matter: 108:035,11[' ]| and their indifference towards Jane when not immediately 108:035,12[' ]| before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all 108:035,13[' ]| her original dislike. 108:035,14[' ]| Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party 108:035,15[' ]| whom she could regard with any complacency. His 108:035,16[' ]| anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself 108:035,17[' ]| most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so 108:035,18[' ]| much an intruder as she believed she was considered by 108:035,19[' ]| the others. She had very little notice from any but him. 108:035,20[' ]| Miss*Bingley was engrossed by Mr%*Darcy, her sister 108:035,21[' ]| scarcely less so; and as for Mr%*Hurst, by whom Elizabeth 108:035,22[' ]| sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, 108:035,23[' ]| and play at cards, who when he found her prefer a plain 108:035,24[' ]| dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her. 108:035,25[' ]| When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, 108:035,26[' ]| and Miss*Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was 108:035,27[' ]| out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be 108:035,28@j | very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; 108:035,29@j | she had no conversation, no stile, no taste, no beauty. 108:035,30[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst thought the same, and added, 108:035,31[V ]| "She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but 108:035,32[V ]| being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her 108:035,33[V ]| appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild." 108:036,01[J ]| "She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my 108:036,02[J ]| countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why 108:036,03[J ]| must \she\ be scampering about the country, because her 108:036,04[J ]| sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!" 108:036,05[V ]| "Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, 108:036,06[V ]| six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the 108:036,07[V ]| gown which had been let down to hide it, not doing its 108:036,08[V ]| office." 108:036,09[I ]| "Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," 108:036,09[' ]| said 108:036,10[' ]| Bingley; 108:036,10[I ]| "but this was all lost upon me. I thought 108:036,11[I ]| Miss*Elizabeth*Bennet looked remarkably well, when she 108:036,12[I ]| came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat 108:036,13[I ]| quite escaped my notice." 108:036,14[J ]| "\You\ observed it, Mr%*Darcy, I am sure," 108:036,14[' ]| said Miss*Bingley; 108:036,15[J ]| "and I am inclined to think that you would 108:036,16[J ]| not wish to see \your\ \sister\ make such an exhibition." 108:036,17[B ]| "Certainly not." 108:036,18[J ]| "To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or 108:036,19[J ]| whatever it is, above her ancles in dirt, and alone, quite 108:036,20[J ]| alone! what could she mean by it? It seems to me 108:036,21[J ]| to shew an abominable sort of conceited independence, 108:036,22[J ]| a most country*town indifference to decorum." 108:036,23[I ]| "It shews an affection for her sister that is very 108:036,24[I ]| pleasing," 108:036,24[' ]| said Bingley. 108:036,25[J ]| "I am afraid, Mr%*Darcy," 108:036,25[' ]| observed Miss*Bingley, in 108:036,26[' ]| a half whisper, 108:036,26[J ]| "that this adventure has rather affected 108:036,27[J ]| your admiration of her fine eyes." 108:036,28[B ]| "Not at all," 108:036,28[' ]| he replied; 108:036,28[B ]| "they were brightened by 108:036,29[B ]| the exercise." ~~ 108:036,29[' ]| A short pause followed this speech, and 108:036,30[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst began again. 108:036,31[V ]| "I have an excessive regard for Jane*Bennet, she is 108:036,32[V ]| really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she 108:036,33[V ]| were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and 108:036,34[V ]| such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it." 108:036,35[J ]| "I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an 108:036,36[J ]| attorney in Meryton." 108:036,37[V ]| "Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere 108:036,38[V ]| near Cheapside." 108:037,01[J ]| "That is capital," 108:037,01[' ]| added her sister, and they both 108:037,02[' ]| laughed heartily. 108:037,03[I ]| "If they had uncles enough to fill \all\ Cheapside," 108:037,03[' ]| cried 108:037,04[' ]| Bingley, 108:037,04[I ]| "it would not make them one jot less agreeable." 108:037,05[B ]| "But it must very materially lessen their chance of 108:037,06[B ]| marrying men of any consideration in the world," 108:037,06[' ]| replied 108:037,07[' ]| Darcy. 108:037,08[' ]| To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters 108:037,09[' ]| gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for 108:037,10[' ]| some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar 108:037,11[' ]| relations. 108:037,12[' ]| With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired 108:037,13[' ]| to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with 108:037,14[' ]| her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, 108:037,15[' ]| and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late in the 108:037,16[' ]| evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, 108:037,17[' ]| and when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant 108:037,18[' ]| that she should go down*stairs herself. On entering the 108:037,19[' ]| drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was 108:037,20[' ]| immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them 108:037,21[' ]| to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister 108:037,22[' ]| the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short 108:037,23[' ]| time she could stay below with a book. Mr%*Hurst looked 108:037,24[' ]| at her with astonishment. 108:037,25[W ]| "Do you prefer reading to cards?" 108:037,25[' ]| said he; 108:037,25[W ]| "that 108:037,26[W ]| is rather singular." 108:037,27[J ]| "Miss*Eliza*Bennet," 108:037,27[' ]| said Miss*Bingley, 108:037,27[J ]| "despises cards. 108:037,28[J ]| She is a great reader and has no pleasure in any*thing else." 108:037,29[A ]| "I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," 108:037,29[' ]| cried 108:037,30[' ]| Elizabeth; 108:037,30[A ]| "I am \not\ a great reader, and I have pleasure 108:037,31[A ]| in many things." 108:037,32[I ]| "In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," 108:037,33[' ]| said Bingley; 108:037,33[I ]| "and I hope it will soon be increased by 108:037,34[I ]| seeing her quite well." 108:037,35[' ]| Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked 108:037,36[' ]| towards a table where a few books were lying. He immediately 108:037,37[' ]| offered to fetch her others; all that his library 108:037,38[' ]| afforded. 108:038,01[I ]| "And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit 108:038,02[I ]| and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though 108:038,03[I ]| I have not many, I have more than I ever look into." 108:038,04[' ]| Elizabeth assured him that 108:038,04@a | she could suit herself perfectly 108:038,05@a | with those in the room. 108:038,06[J ]| "I am astonished," 108:038,06[' ]| said Miss*Bingley, 108:038,06[J ]| "that my father 108:038,07[J ]| should have left so small a collection of books. ~~ What 108:038,08[J ]| a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr%*Darcy!" 108:038,09[B ]| "It ought to be good," 108:038,09[' ]| he replied, 108:038,09[B ]| "it has been the 108:038,10[B ]| work of many generations." 108:038,11[J ]| "And then you have added so much to it yourself, you 108:038,12[J ]| are always buying books." 108:038,13[B ]| "I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library 108:038,14[B ]| in such days as these." 108:038,15[J ]| "Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add 108:038,16[J ]| to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you 108:038,17[J ]| build \your\ house, I wish it may be half as delightful as 108:038,18[J ]| Pemberley." 108:038,19[I ]| "I wish it may." 108:038,20[J ]| "But I would really advise you to make your purchase in 108:038,21[J ]| that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. 108:038,22[J ]| There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire." 108:038,23[I ]| "With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if 108:038,24[I ]| Darcy will sell it." 108:038,25[J ]| "I am talking of possibilities, Charles." 108:038,26[I ]| "Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more 108:038,27[I ]| possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation." 108:038,28[' ]| Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to 108:038,29[' ]| leave her very little attention for her book; and soon 108:038,30[' ]| laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and 108:038,31[' ]| stationed herself between Mr%*Bingley and his eldest sister, 108:038,32[' ]| to observe the game. 108:038,33[J ]| "Is Miss*Darcy much grown since the spring?" 108:038,33[' ]| said 108:038,34[' ]| Miss*Bingley; 108:038,34[J ]| "will she be as tall as I am?" 108:038,35[B ]| "I think she will. She is now about Miss*Elizabeth*Bennet's 108:038,36[B ]| height, or rather taller." 108:038,37[J ]| "How I long to see her again! I never met with 108:038,38[J ]| anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, 108:039,01[J ]| such manners! and so extremely accomplished for her 108:039,02[J ]| age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite." 108:039,03[I ]| "It is amazing to me," 108:039,03[' ]| said Bingley, 108:039,03[I ]| "how young 108:039,04[I ]| ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished, as 108:039,05[I ]| they all are." 108:039,06[J ]| "All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what 108:039,07[J ]| do you mean?" 108:039,08[I ]| "Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, 108:039,09[I ]| cover skreens and net purses. I scarcely know any*one 108:039,10[I ]| who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard 108:039,11[I ]| a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being 108:039,12[I ]| informed that she was very accomplished." 108:039,13[B ]| "Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," 108:039,14[' ]| said Darcy, 108:039,14[B ]| "has too much truth. The word is applied 108:039,15[B ]| to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by 108:039,16[B ]| netting a purse, or covering a skreen. But I am very far 108:039,17[B ]| from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in 108:039,18[B ]| general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, 108:039,19[B ]| in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really 108:039,20[B ]| accomplished." 108:039,21[J ]| "Nor I, I am sure," 108:039,21[' ]| said Miss*Bingley. 108:039,22[A ]| "Then," 108:039,22[' ]| observed Elizabeth, 108:039,22[A ]| "you must comprehend 108:039,23[A ]| a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman." 108:039,24[B ]| "Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it." 108:039,25[J ]| "Oh! certainly," 108:039,25[' ]| cried his faithful assistant, 108:039,25[J ]| "no*one 108:039,26[J ]| can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly 108:039,27[J ]| surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have 108:039,28[J ]| a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, 108:039,29[J ]| and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides 108:039,30[J ]| all this, she must possess a certain something in her 108:039,31[J ]| air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address 108:039,32[J ]| and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved." 108:039,33[B ]| "All this she must possess," 108:039,33[' ]| added Darcy, 108:039,33[B ]| "and to 108:039,34[B ]| all this she must yet add something more substantial, in 108:039,35[B ]| the improvement of her mind by extensive reading." 108:039,36[A ]| "I am no longer surprised at your knowing \only\ six 108:039,37[A ]| accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your 108:039,38[A ]| knowing \any\." 108:040,01[B ]| "Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the 108:040,02[B ]| possibility of all this?" 108:040,03[A ]| "\I\ never saw such a woman. \I\ never saw such capacity, 108:040,04[A ]| and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, 108:040,05[A ]| united." 108:040,06[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst and Miss*Bingley both cried out against the 108:040,07[' ]| injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that 108:040,08[' ]| they knew many women who answered this description, 108:040,09[' ]| when Mr%*Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints 108:040,10[' ]| of their inattention to what was going forward. As all 108:040,11[' ]| conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards 108:040,12[' ]| left the room. 108:040,13[J ]| "Eliza*Bennet," 108:040,13[' ]| said Miss*Bingley, when the door was 108:040,14[' ]| closed on her, 108:040,14[J ]| "is one of those young ladies who seek to 108:040,15[J ]| recommend themselves to the other sex, by undervaluing 108:040,16[J ]| their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. 108:040,17[J ]| But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art." 108:040,18[B ]| "Undoubtedly," 108:040,18[' ]| replied Darcy, to whom this remark 108:040,19[' ]| was chiefly addressed, 108:040,19[B ]| "there is meanness in \all\ the arts 108:040,20[B ]| which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. 108:040,21[B ]| Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable." 108:040,22[' ]| Miss*Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply 108:040,23[' ]| as to continue the subject. 108:040,24[' ]| Elizabeth joined them again only to say that 108:040,24@a | her sister 108:040,25@a | was worse, and that she could not leave her. 108:040,25[' ]| Bingley 108:040,26[' ]| urged Mr%*Jones's being sent for immediately; while his 108:040,27[' ]| sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any 108:040,28[' ]| service, recommended an express to town for one of the 108:040,29[' ]| most eminent physicians. This, she would not hear of; 108:040,30[' ]| but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's 108:040,31[' ]| proposal; and it was settled that Mr%*Jones should be 108:040,32[' ]| sent for early in the morning, if Miss*Bennet were not 108:040,33[' ]| decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his 108:040,34[' ]| sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced 108:040,35[' ]| their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while 108:040,36[' ]| he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving 108:040,37[' ]| his housekeeper directions that every possible attention 108:040,38[' ]| might be paid to the sick lady and her sister. 109:041,01[' ]| Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister's 109:041,02[' ]| room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able 109:041,03[' ]| to send a tolerable answer to the enquiries which she very 109:041,04[' ]| early received from Mr%*Bingley by a housemaid, and some 109:041,05[' ]| time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited 109:041,06[' ]| on his sisters. In spite of his amendment, however, she 109:041,07[' ]| requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her 109:041,08[' ]| mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgment of her 109:041,09[' ]| situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its 109:041,10[' ]| contents as quickly complied with. Mrs%*Bennet, accompanied 109:041,11[' ]| by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon 109:041,12[' ]| after the family breakfast. 109:041,13[' ]| Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs%*Bennet 109:041,14[' ]| would have been very miserable; but being 109:041,15[' ]| satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not alarming, 109:041,16[' ]| she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her 109:041,17[' ]| restoration to health would probably remove her from 109:041,18[' ]| Netherfield. She would not listen therefore to her 109:041,19[' ]| daughter's proposal of being carried home; neither did 109:041,20[' ]| the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think 109:041,21[' ]| it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, 109:041,22[' ]| on Miss*Bingley's appearance and invitation, the mother 109:041,23[' ]| and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast*parlour. 109:041,24[' ]| Bingley met them with 109:041,24@i | hopes that Mrs%*Bennet 109:041,25@i | had not found Miss*Bennet worse than she expected. 109:041,26[D ]| "Indeed I have, Sir," 109:041,26[' ]| was her answer. 109:041,26[D ]| "She is a great 109:041,27[D ]| deal too ill to be moved. Mr%*Jones says we must not 109:041,28[D ]| think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer 109:041,29[D ]| on your kindness." 109:041,30[I ]| "Removed!" 109:041,30[' ]| cried Bingley. 109:041,30[I ]| "It must not be 109:041,31[I ]| thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her 109:041,32[I ]| removal." 109:041,33[J ]| "You may depend upon it, Madam," 109:041,33[' ]| said Miss*Bingley, 109:042,01[' ]| with cold civility, 109:042,01[J ]| "that Miss*Bennet shall receive every 109:042,02[J ]| possible attention while she remains with us." 109:042,03[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. 109:042,04[D ]| "I am sure," 109:042,04[' ]| she added, 109:042,04[D ]| "if it was not for such good 109:042,05[D ]| friends I do not know what would become of her, for she 109:042,06[D ]| is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the 109:042,07[D ]| greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with 109:042,08[D ]| her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I 109:042,09[D ]| ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing 109:042,10[D ]| to \her\. You have a sweet room here, Mr%*Bingley, and a 109:042,11[D ]| charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know 109:042,12[D ]| a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You 109:042,13[D ]| will not think of quitting it in a hurry I hope, though 109:042,14[D ]| you have but a short lease." 109:042,15[I ]| "Whatever I do is done in a hurry," 109:042,15[' ]| replied he; 109:042,15[I ]| "and 109:042,16[I ]| therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should 109:042,17[I ]| probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, 109:042,18[I ]| I consider myself as quite fixed here." 109:042,19[A ]| "That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," 109:042,20[' ]| said Elizabeth. 109:042,21[I ]| "You begin to comprehend me, do you?" 109:042,21[' ]| cried he, 109:042,22[' ]| turning towards her. 109:042,23[A ]| "Oh! yes ~~ I understand you perfectly." 109:042,24[I ]| "I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to 109:042,25[I ]| be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful." 109:042,26[A ]| "That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow 109:042,27[A ]| that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable 109:042,28[A ]| than such a one as yours." 109:042,29[D ]| "Lizzy," 109:042,29[' ]| cried her mother, 109:042,29[D ]| "remember where you are, 109:042,30[D ]| and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered 109:042,31[D ]| to do at home." 109:042,32[I ]| "I did not know before," 109:042,32[' ]| continued Bingley immediately, 109:042,33[I ]| "that you were a studier of character. It must be 109:042,34[I ]| an amusing study." 109:042,35[A ]| "Yes; but intricate characters are the \most\ amusing. 109:042,36[A ]| They have at least that advantage." 109:042,37[B ]| "The country," 109:042,37[' ]| said Darcy, 109:042,37[B ]| "can in general supply but 109:042,38[B ]| few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood 109:043,01[B ]| you move in a very confined and unvarying 109:043,02[B ]| society." 109:043,03[A ]| "But people themselves alter so much, that there is 109:043,04[A ]| something new to be observed in them for*ever." 109:043,05[D ]| "Yes, indeed," 109:043,05[' ]| cried Mrs%*Bennet, offended by his 109:043,06[' ]| manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. 109:043,06[D ]| "I 109:043,07[D ]| assure you there is quite as much of \that\ going on in the 109:043,08[D ]| country as in town." 109:043,09[' ]| Every*body was surprised; and Darcy, after looking 109:043,10[' ]| at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs%*Bennet, 109:043,11[' ]| who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, 109:043,12[' ]| continued her triumph. 109:043,13[D ]| "I cannot see that London has any great advantage 109:043,14[D ]| over the country for my part, except the shops and public 109:043,15[D ]| places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, 109:043,16[D ]| Mr%*Bingley?" 109:043,17[I ]| "When I am in the country," 109:043,17[' ]| he replied, 109:043,17[I ]| "I never 109:043,18[I ]| wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much 109:043,19[I ]| the same. They have each their advantages, and I can 109:043,20[I ]| be equally happy in either." 109:043,21[D ]| "Aye ~~ that is because you have the right disposition. 109:043,22[D ]| But that gentleman," 109:043,22[' ]| looking at Darcy, 109:043,22[D ]| "seemed to think 109:043,23[D ]| the country was nothing at all." 109:043,24[A ]| "Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken," 109:043,24[' ]| said Elizabeth, 109:043,25[' ]| blushing for her mother. 109:043,25[A ]| "You quite mistook Mr%*Darcy. 109:043,26[A ]| He only meant that there were not such a variety of people 109:043,27[A ]| to be met with in the country as in town, which you must 109:043,28[A ]| acknowledge to be true." 109:043,29[D ]| "Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as 109:043,30[D ]| to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, 109:043,31[D ]| I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know 109:043,32[D ]| we dine with four*and*twenty families." 109:043,33[' ]| Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley 109:043,34[' ]| to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and 109:043,35[' ]| directed her eye towards Mr%*Darcy with a very expressive 109:043,36[' ]| smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that 109:043,37[' ]| might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte*Lucas 109:043,38[' ]| had been at Longbourn since \her\ coming away. 109:044,01[D ]| "Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an 109:044,02[D ]| agreeable man Sir*William is, Mr%*Bingley ~~ is not he? 109:044,03[D ]| so much the man of fashion! so genteel and so easy! ~~ 109:044,04[D ]| He has always something to say to every*body. ~~ \That\ is 109:044,05[D ]| my idea of good*breeding; and those persons who fancy 109:044,06[D ]| themselves very important and never open their mouths, 109:044,07[D ]| quite mistake the matter." 109:044,08[A ]| "Did Charlotte dine with you?" 109:044,09[D ]| "No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted 109:044,10[D ]| about the mince pies. For my part, Mr%*Bingley, \I\ always 109:044,11[D ]| keep servants that can do their own work; \my\ daughters 109:044,12[D ]| are brought up differently. But every*body is to judge 109:044,13[D ]| for themselves, and the Lucases are very good sort of 109:044,14[D ]| girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! 109:044,15[D ]| Not that \I\ think Charlotte so \very\ plain ~~ but then she is 109:044,16[D ]| our particular friend." 109:044,17[I ]| "She seems a very pleasant young woman," 109:044,17[' ]| said 109:044,18[' ]| Bingley. 109:044,19[D ]| "Oh! dear, yes; ~~ but you must own she is very plain. 109:044,20[D ]| Lady*Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me 109:044,21[D ]| Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, 109:044,22[D ]| but to be sure, Jane ~~ one does not often see any*body 109:044,23[D ]| better looking. It is what every*body says. I do not 109:044,24[D ]| trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, 109:044,25[D ]| there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner's in town, 109:044,26[D ]| so much in love with her, that my sister-in-law was sure 109:044,27[D ]| he would make her an offer before we came away. But 109:044,28[D ]| however he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. 109:044,29[D ]| However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty 109:044,30[D ]| they were." 109:044,31[A ]| "And so ended his affection," 109:044,31[' ]| said Elizabeth impatiently. 109:044,32[A ]| "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome 109:044,33[A ]| in the same way. I wonder who first discovered 109:044,34[A ]| the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!" 109:044,35[B ]| "I have been used to consider poetry as the \food\ of 109:044,36[B ]| love," 109:044,36[' ]| said Darcy. 109:044,37[A ]| "Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every*thing 109:044,38[A ]| nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a 109:045,01[A ]| slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one 109:045,02[A ]| good sonnet will starve it entirely away." 109:045,03[' ]| Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued 109:045,04[' ]| made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing 109:045,05[' ]| herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of 109:045,06[' ]| nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs%*Bennet 109:045,07[' ]| began repeating her thanks to Mr%*Bingley for his kindness 109:045,08[' ]| to Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with 109:045,09[' ]| Lizzy. Mr%*Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, 109:045,10[' ]| and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what 109:045,11[' ]| the occasion required. She performed her part indeed 109:045,12[' ]| without much graciousness, but Mrs%*Bennet was satisfied, 109:045,13[' ]| and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this 109:045,14[' ]| signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. 109:045,15[' ]| The two girls had been whispering to each other during 109:045,16[' ]| the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest 109:045,17[' ]| should tax Mr%*Bingley with having promised on his first 109:045,18[' ]| coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield. 109:045,19[' ]| Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine 109:045,20[' ]| complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite 109:045,21[' ]| with her mother, whose affection had brought her into 109:045,22[' ]| public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and 109:045,23[' ]| a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attentions 109:045,24[' ]| of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners and 109:045,25[' ]| her own easy manners recommended her, had increased 109:045,26[' ]| into assurance. She was very equal therefore to address 109:045,27[' ]| Mr%*Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly 109:045,28[' ]| reminded him of his promise; adding, that 109:045,28@h | it would be 109:045,29@h | the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. 109:045,30[' ]| His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their 109:045,31[' ]| mother's ear. 109:045,32[I ]| "I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; 109:045,33[I ]| and when your sister is recovered, you shall if you 109:045,34[I ]| please name the very day of the ball. But you would not 109:045,35[I ]| wish to be dancing while she is ill." 109:045,36[' ]| Lydia declared herself satisfied. 109:045,36[H ]| "Oh! yes ~~ it would 109:045,37[H ]| be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time 109:046,01[H ]| most likely Captain*Carter would be at Meryton again. 109:046,02[H ]| And when you have given \your\ ball," 109:046,02[' ]| she added, 109:046,02[H ]| "I shall 109:046,03[H ]| insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel*Forster 109:046,04[H ]| it will be quite a shame if he does not." 109:046,05[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet and her daughters then departed, and 109:046,06[' ]| Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own 109:046,07[' ]| and her relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two 109:046,08[' ]| ladies and Mr%*Darcy; the latter of whom, however, 109:046,09[' ]| could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of \her\, 109:046,10[' ]| in spite of all Miss*Bingley's witticisms on \fine\ \eyes\. 110:047,01[' ]| The day passed much as the day before had done. 110:047,02[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst and Miss*Bingley had spent some hours of the 110:047,03[' ]| morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, 110:047,04[' ]| to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party 110:047,05[' ]| in the drawing-room. The loo*table, however, did not 110:047,06[' ]| appear. Mr%*Darcy was writing, and Miss*Bingley, seated 110:047,07[' ]| near him, was watching the progress of his letter, and 110:047,08[' ]| repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his 110:047,09[' ]| sister. Mr%*Hurst and Mr%*Bingley were at piquet, and 110:047,10[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst was observing their game. 110:047,11[' ]| Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently 110:047,12[' ]| amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and 110:047,13[' ]| his companion. The perpetual commendations of the 110:047,14[' ]| lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness of 110:047,15[' ]| his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect 110:047,16[' ]| unconcern with which her praises were received, formed 110:047,17[' ]| a curious dialogue, and was exactly in unison with her 110:047,18[' ]| opinion of each. 110:047,19[J ]| "How delighted Miss*Darcy will be to receive such 110:047,20[J ]| a letter!" 110:047,21[' ]| He made no answer. 110:047,22[J ]| "You write uncommonly fast." 110:047,23[B ]| "You are mistaken. I write rather slowly." 110:047,24[J ]| "How many letters you must have occasion to write 110:047,25[J ]| in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How 110:047,26[J ]| odious I should think them!" 110:047,27[B ]| "It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead 110:047,28[B ]| of to yours." 110:047,29[J ]| "Pray tell your sister that I long to see her." 110:047,30[B ]| "I have already told her so once, by your desire." 110:047,31[J ]| "I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend 110:047,32[J ]| it for you. I mend pens remarkably well." 110:047,33[B ]| "Thank you ~~ but I always mend my own." 110:048,01[J ]| "How can you contrive to write so even?" 110:048,02[' ]| He was silent. 110:048,03[J ]| "Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement 110:048,04[J ]| on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite 110:048,05[J ]| in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, 110:048,06[J ]| and I think it infinitely superior to Miss*Grantley's." 110:048,07[B ]| "Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till 110:048,08[B ]| I write again? ~~ At present I have not room to do them 110:048,09[B ]| justice." 110:048,10[J ]| "Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. 110:048,11[J ]| But do you always write such charming long letters to 110:048,12[J ]| her, Mr%*Darcy?" 110:048,13[B ]| "They are generally long; but whether always charming, 110:048,14[B ]| it is not for me to determine." 110:048,15[J ]| "It is a rule with me, that a person who can write 110:048,16[J ]| a long letter, with ease, cannot write ill." 110:048,17[I ]| "That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," 110:048,18[' ]| cried her brother ~~ 110:048,18[I ]| "because he does \not\ write with ease. 110:048,19[I ]| He studies too much for words of four syllables. ~~ Do not 110:048,20[I ]| you, Darcy?" 110:048,21[B ]| "My stile of writing is very different from yours." 110:048,22[J ]| "Oh!" 110:048,22[' ]| cried Miss*Bingley, 110:048,22[J ]| "Charles writes in the most 110:048,23[J ]| careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, 110:048,24[J ]| and blots the rest." 110:048,25[I ]| "My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to 110:048,26[I ]| express them ~~ by which means my letters sometimes 110:048,27[I ]| convey no ideas at all to my correspondents." 110:048,28[A ]| "Your humility, Mr%*Bingley," 110:048,28[' ]| said Elizabeth, 110:048,28[A ]| "must 110:048,29[A ]| disarm reproof." 110:048,30[B ]| "Nothing is more deceitful," 110:048,30[' ]| said Darcy, 110:048,30[B ]| "than the 110:048,31[B ]| appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of 110:048,32[B ]| opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast." 110:048,33[I ]| "And which of the two do you call \my\ little recent 110:048,34[I ]| piece of modesty?" 110:048,35[B ]| "The indirect boast; ~~ for you are really proud of your 110:048,36[B ]| defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding 110:048,37[B ]| from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of 110:048,38[B ]| execution, which if not estimable, you think at least 110:049,01[B ]| highly interesting. The power of doing any*thing with 110:049,02[B ]| quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and 110:049,03[B ]| often without any attention to the imperfection of the 110:049,04[B ]| performance. When you told Mrs%*Bennet this morning 110:049,05[B ]| that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you 110:049,06[B ]| should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort 110:049,07[B ]| of panegyric, of compliment to yourself ~~ and yet what 110:049,08[B ]| is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must 110:049,09[B ]| leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real 110:049,10[B ]| advantage to yourself or any*one else?" 110:049,11[I ]| "Nay," 110:049,11[' ]| cried Bingley, 110:049,11[I ]| "this is too much, to remember 110:049,12[I ]| at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. 110:049,13[I ]| And yet, upon my honour, I believed what I said to myself 110:049,14[I ]| to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, 110:049,15[I ]| therefore, I did not assume the character of needless 110:049,16[I ]| precipitance merely to shew off before the ladies." 110:049,17[B ]| "I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means 110:049,18[B ]| convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. 110:049,19[B ]| Your conduct would be quite as dependant on chance as 110:049,20[B ]| that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting 110:049,21[B ]| your horse, a friend were to say, ""Bingley, you had better 110:049,22[B ]| stay till next week,"" you would probably do it, you would 110:049,23[B ]| probably not go ~~ and, at another word, might stay a 110:049,24[B ]| month." 110:049,25[A ]| "You have only proved by this," 110:049,25[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 110:049,26[A ]| "that Mr%*Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. 110:049,27[A ]| You have shewn him off now much more than 110:049,28[A ]| he did himself." 110:049,29[I ]| "I am exceedingly gratified," 110:049,29[' ]| said Bingley, 110:049,29[I ]| "by your 110:049,30[I ]| converting what my friend says into a compliment on the 110:049,31[I ]| sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving 110:049,32[I ]| it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; 110:049,33[I ]| for he would certainly think the better of me, if under 110:049,34[I ]| such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride 110:049,35[I ]| off as fast as I could." 110:049,36[A ]| "Would Mr%*Darcy then consider the rashness of your 110:049,37[A ]| original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in 110:049,38[A ]| adhering to it?" 110:050,01[I ]| "Upon my word I cannot exactly explain the matter, 110:050,02[I ]| Darcy must speak for himself." 110:050,03[B ]| "You expect me to account for opinions which you 110:050,04[B ]| chuse to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. 110:050,05[B ]| Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your 110:050,06[B ]| representation, you must remember, Miss*Bennet, that the 110:050,07[B ]| friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, 110:050,08[B ]| and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it 110:050,09[B ]| without offering one argument in favour of its propriety." 110:050,10[A ]| "To yield readily ~~ easily ~~ to the \persuasion\ of a friend 110:050,11[A ]| is no merit with you." 110:050,12[B ]| "To yield without conviction is no compliment to the 110:050,13[B ]| understanding of either." 110:050,14[A ]| "You appear to me, Mr%*Darcy, to allow nothing for 110:050,15[A ]| the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for 110:050,16[A ]| the requester would often make one readily yield to a 110:050,17[A ]| request, without waiting for arguments to reason one into 110:050,18[A ]| it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you 110:050,19[A ]| have supposed about Mr%*Bingley. We may as well wait, 110:050,20[A ]| perhaps, till the circumstance occurs, before we discuss 110:050,21[A ]| the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general 110:050,22[A ]| and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one 110:050,23[A ]| of them is desired by the other to change a resolution 110:050,24[A ]| of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person 110:050,25[A ]| for complying with the desire, without waiting to be 110:050,26[A ]| argued into it?" 110:050,27[B ]| "Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this 110:050,28[B ]| subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree 110:050,29[B ]| of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well 110:050,30[B ]| as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?" 110:050,31[I ]| "By all means," 110:050,31[' ]| cried Bingley; 110:050,31[I ]| "let us hear all the 110:050,32[I ]| particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and 110:050,33[I ]| size; for that will have more weight in the argument, 110:050,34[I ]| Miss*Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you 110:050,35[I ]| that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison 110:050,36[I ]| with myself, I should not pay him half so much 110:050,37[I ]| deference. I declare I do not know a more aweful object 110:050,38[I ]| than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular 110:051,01[I ]| places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday 110:051,02[I ]| evening when he has nothing to do." 110:051,03[' ]| Mr%*Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could 110:051,04[' ]| perceive that he was rather offended; and therefore 110:051,05[' ]| checked her laugh. Miss*Bingley warmly resented the 110:051,06[' ]| indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her 110:051,07[' ]| brother for talking such nonsense. 110:051,08[B ]| "I see your design, Bingley," 110:051,08[' ]| said his friend. ~~ 110:051,08[B ]| "You 110:051,09[B ]| dislike an argument, and want to silence this." 110:051,10[I ]| "Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. 110:051,11[I ]| If you and Miss*Bennet will defer yours till I am out of 110:051,12[I ]| the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may 110:051,13[I ]| say whatever you like of me." 110:051,14[A ]| "What you ask," 110:051,14[' ]| said Elizabeth, 110:051,14[A ]| "is no sacrifice on 110:051,15[A ]| my side; and Mr%*Darcy had much better finish his letter." 110:051,16[' ]| Mr%*Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. 110:051,17[' ]| When that business was over, he applied to Miss*Bingley 110:051,18[' ]| and Elizabeth for the indulgence of some music. Miss*Bingley 110:051,19[' ]| moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, and after 110:051,20[' ]| a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way, which 110:051,21[' ]| the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she 110:051,22[' ]| seated herself. 110:051,23[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were 110:051,24[' ]| thus employed Elizabeth could not help observing as she 110:051,25[' ]| turned over some music books that lay on the instrument, 110:051,26[' ]| how frequently Mr%*Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. 110:051,26@a | She 110:051,27@a | hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object 110:051,28@a | of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should 110:051,29@a | look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange. 110:051,30@a | She could only imagine however at last, that she drew 110:051,31@a | his notice because there was a something about her more 110:051,32@a | wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, 110:051,33@a | than in any other person present. 110:051,33[' ]| The supposition did 110:051,34[' ]| not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his 110:051,35[' ]| approbation. 110:051,36[' ]| After playing some Italian songs, Miss*Bingley varied 110:051,37[' ]| the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards 110:051,38[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her ~~ 110:052,01[B ]| "Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss*Bennet, to 110:052,02[B ]| seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?" 110:052,03[' ]| She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the 110:052,04[' ]| question, with some surprise at her silence. 110:052,05[A ]| "Oh!" 110:052,05[' ]| said she, 110:052,05[A ]| "I heard you before; but I could not 110:052,06[A ]| immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted 110:052,07[A ]| me, I know, to say ""Yes,"" that you might have the pleasure 110:052,08[A ]| of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing 110:052,09[A ]| those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their 110:052,10[A ]| premeditated contempt. I have therefore made up my 110:052,11[A ]| mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all ~~ 110:052,12[A ]| and now despise me if you dare." 110:052,13[B ]| "Indeed I do not dare." 110:052,14[' ]| Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was 110:052,15[' ]| amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of 110:052,16[' ]| sweetness and archness in her manner which made it 110:052,17[' ]| difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never 110:052,18[' ]| been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He 110:052,19[' ]| really believed, that 110:052,19@b | were it not for the inferiority of her 110:052,20@b | connections, he should be in some danger. 110:052,21[' ]| Miss*Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; 110:052,22[' ]| and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend 110:052,23[' ]| Jane, received some assistance from her desire of getting 110:052,24[' ]| rid of Elizabeth. 110:052,25[' ]| She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her 110:052,26[' ]| guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning 110:052,27[' ]| his happiness in such an alliance. 110:052,28[J ]| "I hope," 110:052,28[' ]| said she, as they were walking together in 110:052,29[' ]| the shrubbery the next day, 110:052,29[J ]| "you will give your mother-in-law 110:052,30[J ]| a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, 110:052,31[J ]| as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you 110:052,32[J ]| can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after 110:052,33[J ]| the officers. ~~ And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, 110:052,34[J ]| endeavour to check that little something, bordering on 110:052,35[J ]| conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses." 110:052,36[B ]| "Have you any*thing else to propose for my domestic 110:052,37[B ]| felicity?" 110:052,38[J ]| "Oh! yes. ~~ Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt 110:053,01[J ]| Philips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them 110:053,02[J ]| next to your great uncle the judge. They are in the 110:053,03[J ]| same profession, you know; only in different lines. As for 110:053,04[J ]| your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it 110:053,05[J ]| taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful 110:053,06[J ]| eyes?" 110:053,07[B ]| "It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, 110:053,08[B ]| but their colour and shape, and the eye-lashes, so remarkably 110:053,09[B ]| fine, might be copied." 110:053,10[' ]| At that moment they were met from another walk, by 110:053,11[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst and Elizabeth herself. 110:053,12[J ]| "I did not know that you intended to walk," 110:053,12[' ]| said 110:053,13[' ]| Miss*Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been 110:053,14[' ]| overheard. 110:053,15[V ]| "You used us abominably ill," 110:053,15[' ]| answered Mrs%*Hurst, 110:053,16[V ]| "in running away without telling us that you were coming 110:053,17[V ]| out." 110:053,18[' ]| Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr%*Darcy, she left 110:053,19[' ]| Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted 110:053,20[' ]| three. Mr%*Darcy felt their rudeness and immediately 110:053,21[' ]| said, ~~ 110:053,22[B ]| "This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had 110:053,23[B ]| better go into the avenue." 110:053,24[' ]| But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to 110:053,25[' ]| remain with them, laughingly answered, 110:053,26[A ]| "No, no; stay where you are. ~~ You are charmingly 110:053,27[A ]| group'd, and appear to uncommon advantage. The 110:053,28[A ]| picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. 110:053,29[A ]| Good*bye." 110:053,30[' ]| She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, 110:053,31[' ]| in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane 110:053,32[' ]| was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her 110:053,33[' ]| room for a couple of hours that evening. 111:054,01[' ]| When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran 111:054,02[' ]| up to her sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, 111:054,03[' ]| attended her into the drawing-room; where she was 111:054,04[' ]| welcomed by her two friends with many professions of 111:054,05[' ]| pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable 111:054,06[' ]| as they were during the hour which passed before 111:054,07[' ]| the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation 111:054,08[' ]| were considerable. They could describe an entertainment 111:054,09[' ]| with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh 111:054,10[' ]| at their acquaintance with spirit. 111:054,11[' ]| But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer 111:054,12[' ]| the first object. Miss*Bingley's eyes were instantly turned 111:054,13[' ]| towards Darcy, and she had something to say to him 111:054,14[' ]| before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself 111:054,15[' ]| directly to Miss*Bennet, with a polite congratulation; 111:054,16[' ]| Mr%*Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said he was 111:054,17[W ]| "very glad;" 111:054,17[' ]| but diffuseness and warmth remained for 111:054,18[' ]| Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. 111:054,19[' ]| The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she 111:054,20[' ]| should suffer from the change of room; and she removed 111:054,21[' ]| to his desire to the other side of the fire-place, that she 111:054,22[' ]| might be farther from the door. He then sat down by 111:054,23[' ]| her, and talked scarcely to any*one else. Elizabeth, at 111:054,24[' ]| work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight. 111:054,25[' ]| When tea was over, Mr%*Hurst reminded his sister-in-law 111:054,26[' ]| of the card-table ~~ but in vain. She had obtained 111:054,27[' ]| private intelligence that Mr%*Darcy did not wish for cards; 111:054,28[' ]| and Mr%*Hurst soon found even his open petition rejected. 111:054,29[' ]| She assured him that no*one intended to play, and the 111:054,30[' ]| silence of the whole party on the subject, seemed to justify 111:054,31[' ]| her. Mr%*Hurst had therefore nothing to do, but to stretch 111:054,32[' ]| himself on one of the sophas and go to sleep. Darcy took 111:054,33[' ]| up a book; Miss*Bingley did the same; and Mrs%*Hurst, 111:055,01[' ]| principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and rings, 111:055,02[' ]| joined now and then in her brother's conversation with 111:055,03[' ]| Miss*Bennet. 111:055,04[' ]| Miss*Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in 111:055,05[' ]| watching Mr%*Darcy's progress through \his\ book, as in 111:055,06[' ]| reading her own; and she was perpetually either making 111:055,07[' ]| some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win 111:055,08[' ]| him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered 111:055,09[' ]| her question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted 111:055,10[' ]| by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which 111:055,11[' ]| she had only chosen because it was the second volume 111:055,12[' ]| of his, she gave a great yawn and said, 111:055,12[J ]| "How pleasant 111:055,13[J ]| it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all 111:055,14[J ]| there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner 111:055,15[J ]| one tires of any*thing than of a book! ~~ When I have 111:055,16[J ]| a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an 111:055,17[J ]| excellent library." 111:055,18[' ]| No*one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw 111:055,19[' ]| aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in 111:055,20[' ]| quest of some amusement; when hearing her brother 111:055,21[' ]| mentioning a ball to Miss*Bennet, she turned suddenly 111:055,22[' ]| towards him and said, 111:055,23[J ]| "By*the*bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating 111:055,24[J ]| a dance at Netherfield? ~~ I would advise you, before 111:055,25[J ]| you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present 111:055,26[J ]| party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among 111:055,27[J ]| us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than 111:055,28[J ]| a pleasure." 111:055,29[I ]| "If you mean Darcy," 111:055,29[' ]| cried her brother, 111:055,29[I ]| "he may go 111:055,30[I ]| to bed, if he chuses, before it begins ~~ but as for the ball, 111:055,31[I ]| it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has 111:055,32[I ]| made white soup enough I shall send round my cards." 111:055,33[J ]| "I should like balls infinitely better," 111:055,33[' ]| she replied, 111:055,33[J ]| "if 111:055,34[J ]| they were carried on in a different manner; but there is 111:055,35[J ]| something insufferably tedious in the usual process of 111:055,36[J ]| such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational 111:055,37[J ]| if conversation instead of dancing made the order of 111:055,38[J ]| the day." 111:056,01[I ]| "Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say 111:056,02[I ]| but it would not be near so much like a ball." 111:056,03[' ]| Miss*Bingley made no answer; and soon afterwards 111:056,04[' ]| got up and walked about the room. Her figure was 111:056,05[' ]| elegant, and she walked well; ~~ but Darcy, at whom it 111:056,06[' ]| was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation 111:056,07[' ]| of her feeling she resolved on one effort more; and, 111:056,08[' ]| turning to Elizabeth, said, 111:056,09[J ]| "Miss*Eliza*Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my 111:056,10[J ]| example, and take a turn about the room. ~~ I assure you 111:056,11[J ]| it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude." 111:056,12[' ]| Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. 111:056,13[' ]| Miss*Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her 111:056,14[' ]| civility; Mr%*Darcy looked up. He was as much awake 111:056,15[' ]| to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth 111:056,16[' ]| herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He 111:056,17[' ]| was directly invited to join their party, but he declined 111:056,18[' ]| it, observing, that 111:056,18@b | he could imagine but two motives for 111:056,19@b | their chusing to walk up and down the room together, 111:056,20@b | with either of which motives his joining them would 111:056,21@b | interfere. 111:056,21[J ]| "What could he mean? she was dying to 111:056,22[J ]| know what could be his meaning" ~~ 111:056,22[' ]| and asked Elizabeth 111:056,23[' ]| whether she could at all understand him? 111:056,24[A ]| "Not at all," 111:056,24[' ]| was her answer; 111:056,24[A ]| "but depend upon it, 111:056,25[A ]| he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing 111:056,26[A ]| him, will be to ask nothing about it." 111:056,27[' ]| Miss*Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing 111:056,28[' ]| Mr%*Darcy in any*thing, and persevered therefore in 111:056,29[' ]| requiring an explanation of his two motives. 111:056,30[B ]| "I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," 111:056,31[' ]| said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. 111:056,31[B ]| "You 111:056,32[B ]| either chuse this method of passing the evening because 111:056,33[B ]| you are in each other's confidence and have secret affairs 111:056,34[B ]| to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures 111:056,35[B ]| appear to the greatest advantage in walking; ~~ if the first, 111:056,36[B ]| I should be completely in your way; ~~ and if the second, 111:056,37[B ]| I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire." 111:056,38[J ]| "Oh! shocking?" 111:056,38[' ]| cried Miss*Bingley. 111:056,38[J ]| "I never heard 111:057,01[J ]| any*thing so abominable. How shall we punish him for 111:057,02[J ]| such a speech?" 111:057,03[A ]| "Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," 111:057,04[' ]| said Elizabeth. 111:057,04[A ]| "We can all plague and punish one 111:057,05[A ]| another. Teaze him ~~ laugh at him. ~~ Intimate as you 111:057,06[A ]| are, you must know how it is to be done." 111:057,07[J ]| "But upon my honour I do \not\. I do assure you that 111:057,08[J ]| my intimacy has not yet taught me \that\. Teaze calmness of 111:057,09[J ]| temper and presence of mind! No, no ~~ I feel he may defy 111:057,10[J ]| us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, 111:057,11[J ]| if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. 111:057,12[J ]| Mr%*Darcy may hug himself." 111:057,13[A ]| "Mr%*Darcy is not to be laughed at!" 111:057,13[' ]| cried Elizabeth. 111:057,14[A ]| "That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope 111:057,15[A ]| it will continue, for it would be a great loss to \me\ to have 111:057,16[A ]| many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh." 111:057,17[B ]| "Miss*Bingley," 111:057,17[' ]| said he, 111:057,17[B ]| "has given me credit for more 111:057,18[B ]| than can be. The wisest and the best of men, nay, the 111:057,19[B ]| wisest and best of their actions, may be rendered ridiculous 111:057,20[B ]| by a person whose first object in life is a joke." 111:057,21[A ]| "Certainly," 111:057,21[' ]| replied Elizabeth ~~ 111:057,21[A ]| "there are such people, 111:057,22[A ]| but I hope I am not one of \them\. I hope I never ridicule 111:057,23[A ]| what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and 111:057,24[A ]| inconsistencies \do\ divert me, I own, and I laugh at them 111:057,25[A ]| whenever I can. ~~ But these, I suppose, are precisely what 111:057,26[A ]| you are without." 111:057,27[B ]| "Perhaps that is not possible for any*one. But it has 111:057,28[B ]| been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which 111:057,29[B ]| often expose a strong understanding to ridicule." 111:057,30[A ]| "Such as vanity and pride." 111:057,31[B ]| "Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride ~~ where 111:057,32[B ]| there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always 111:057,33[B ]| under good regulation." 111:057,34[' ]| Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. 111:057,35[J ]| "Your examination of Mr%*Darcy is over, I presume," 111:057,36[' ]| said Miss*Bingley; ~~ 111:057,36[J ]| "and pray what is the result?" 111:057,37[A ]| "I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr%*Darcy has 111:057,38[A ]| no defect. He owns it himself without disguise." 111:058,01[B ]| "No" ~~ 111:058,01[' ]| said Darcy, 111:058,01[B ]| "I have made no such pretension. 111:058,02[B ]| I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. 111:058,03[B ]| My temper I dare not vouch for. ~~ It is I believe 111:058,04[B ]| too little yielding ~~ certainly too little for the convenience 111:058,05[B ]| of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others 111:058,06[B ]| so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. 111:058,07[B ]| My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to 111:058,08[B ]| move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. 111:058,09[B ]| My good opinion once lost is lost for*ever." 111:058,10[A ]| "\That\ is a failing indeed!" ~~ 111:058,10[' ]| cried Elizabeth. 111:058,10[A ]| "Implacable 111:058,11[A ]| resentment \is\ a shade in a character. But you 111:058,12[A ]| have chosen your fault well. ~~ I really cannot \laugh\ at it. 111:058,13[A ]| You are safe from me." 111:058,14[B ]| "There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency 111:058,15[B ]| to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even 111:058,16[B ]| the best education can overcome." 111:058,17[A ]| "And \your\ defect is a propensity to hate every*body." 111:058,18[B ]| "And yours," 111:058,18[' ]| he replied with a smile, 111:058,18[B ]| "is wilfully to 111:058,19[B ]| misunderstand them." 111:058,20[J ]| "Do let us have a little music," ~~ 111:058,20[' ]| cried Miss*Bingley, 111:058,21[' ]| tired of a conversation in which she had no share. ~~ 111:058,22[J ]| "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr%*Hurst." 111:058,23[' ]| Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the 111:058,24[' ]| piano*forte was opened, and Darcy, after a few moments 111:058,25[' ]| recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the 111:058,26[' ]| danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention. 112:059,01[' ]| In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, 112:059,02[' ]| Elizabeth wrote the next morning to her mother, to beg 112:059,03[' ]| that the carriage might be sent for them in the course 112:059,04[' ]| of the day. But Mrs%*Bennet, who had calculated on her 112:059,05[' ]| daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following 112:059,06[' ]| Tuesday, which would exactly finish Jane's week, could 112:059,07[' ]| not bring herself to receive them with pleasure before. 112:059,08[' ]| Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least not to 112:059,09[' ]| Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get home. 112:059,10[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly 112:059,11[' ]| have the carriage before Tuesday; and in her postscript 112:059,12[' ]| it was added, that 112:059,12@d | if Mr%*Bingley and his sister pressed them 112:059,13@d | to stay longer, she could spare them very well. ~~ 112:059,13[' ]| Against 112:059,14[' ]| staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively resolved 112:059,15[' ]| ~~ nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, 112:059,16[' ]| on the contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves 112:059,17[' ]| needlessly long, she urged Jane to borrow Mr%*Bingley's 112:059,18[' ]| carriage immediately, and at length it was 112:059,19[' ]| settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield 112:059,20[' ]| that morning should be mentioned, and the request made. 112:059,21[' ]| The communication excited many professions of concern; 112:059,22[' ]| and enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till 112:059,23[' ]| the following day to work on Jane; and till the morrow, 112:059,24[' ]| their going was deferred. Miss*Bingley was then sorry that 112:059,25[' ]| she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike 112:059,26[' ]| of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other. 112:059,27[' ]| The master of the house heard with real sorrow that 112:059,28[' ]| they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade 112:059,29[' ]| Miss*Bennet that 112:059,29@i | it would not be safe for her ~~ that she 112:059,30@i | was not enough recovered; 112:059,30[' ]| but Jane was firm where she 112:059,31[' ]| felt herself to be right. 112:059,32[' ]| To Mr%*Darcy it was welcome intelligence ~~ 112:059,32@b | Elizabeth 112:059,33@b | had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him 112:059,34@b | more than he liked ~~ and Miss*Bingley was uncivil to \her\, 112:060,01@b | and more teazing than usual to himself. 112:060,01[' ]| He wisely 112:060,02[' ]| resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration 112:060,03[' ]| should \now\ escape him, nothing that could elevate 112:060,04[' ]| her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that 112:060,05[' ]| if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during 112:060,06[' ]| the last day must have material weight in confirming or 112:060,07[' ]| crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten 112:060,08[' ]| words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though 112:060,09[' ]| they were at one time left by themselves for half an hour, 112:060,10[' ]| he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would 112:060,11[' ]| not even look at her. 112:060,12[' ]| On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so 112:060,13[' ]| agreeable to almost all, took place. Miss*Bingley's civility 112:060,14[' ]| to Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly, as well as her 112:060,15[' ]| affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring 112:060,16[' ]| the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see her 112:060,17[' ]| either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most 112:060,18[' ]| tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. ~~ Elizabeth 112:060,19[' ]| took leave of the whole party in the liveliest spirits. 112:060,20[' ]| They were not welcomed home very cordially by their 112:060,21[' ]| mother. Mrs%*Bennet 112:060,21@d | wondered at their coming, and 112:060,22@d | thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and 112:060,23@d | was sure Jane would have caught cold again. ~~ 112:060,23[' ]| But their 112:060,24[' ]| father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, 112:060,25[' ]| was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance 112:060,26[' ]| in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they 112:060,27[' ]| were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and 112:060,28[' ]| almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth. 112:060,29[' ]| They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough*bass 112:060,30[' ]| and human nature; and had some new extracts to 112:060,31[' ]| admire, and some new observations of thread-bare morality 112:060,32[' ]| to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information for 112:060,33[' ]| them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much 112:060,34[' ]| had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; 112:060,35[' ]| several of the officers had dined lately with their 112:060,36[' ]| uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually 112:060,37[' ]| been hinted that Colonel*Forster was going to be married. 113:061,01[C ]| "I hope, my dear," 113:061,01[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet to his wife, as 113:061,02[' ]| they were at breakfast the next morning, 113:061,02[C ]| "that you have 113:061,03[C ]| ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to 113:061,04[C ]| expect an addition to our family party." 113:061,05[D ]| "Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that 113:061,06[D ]| is coming I am sure, unless Charlotte*Lucas should happen 113:061,07[D ]| to call in, and I hope \my\ dinners are good enough for her. 113:061,08[D ]| I do not believe she often sees such at home." 113:061,09[C ]| "The person of whom I speak, is a gentleman and a 113:061,10[C ]| stranger." 113:061,10[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet's eyes sparkled. ~~ 113:061,10[D ]| "A gentleman 113:061,11[D ]| and a stranger! It is Mr%*Bingley I am sure. Why Jane 113:061,12[D ]| ~~ you never dropt a word of this; you sly thing! Well, 113:061,13[D ]| I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr%*Bingley. ~~ 113:061,14[D ]| But ~~ good lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish 113:061,15[D ]| to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must 113:061,16[D ]| speak to Hill, this moment." 113:061,17[C ]| "It is \not\ Mr%*Bingley," 113:061,17[' ]| said her husband; 113:061,17[C ]| "it is 113:061,18[C ]| a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my 113:061,19[C ]| life." 113:061,20[' ]| This roused a general astonishment; and he had the 113:061,21[' ]| pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and five 113:061,22[' ]| daughters at once. 113:061,23[' ]| After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, 113:061,24[' ]| he thus explained. 113:061,24[C ]| "About a month ago I received this 113:061,25[C ]| letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I 113:061,26[C ]| thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early 113:061,27[C ]| attention. It is from my cousin, Mr%*Collins, who, when 113:061,28[C ]| I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as 113:061,29[C ]| he pleases." 113:061,29[D ]| "Oh! my dear," 113:061,29[' ]| cried his wife, 113:061,30[D ]| "I cannot bear to 113:061,31[D ]| hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious 113:061,32[D ]| man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that 113:061,33[D ]| your estate should be entailed away from your own 113:062,01[D ]| children; and I am sure if I had been you, I should have 113:062,02[D ]| tried long ago to do something or other about it." 113:062,03[' ]| Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the 113:062,04[' ]| nature of an entail. They had often attempted it before, 113:062,05[' ]| but it was a subject on which Mrs%*Bennet was beyond 113:062,06[' ]| the reach of reason; and she continued to rail bitterly 113:062,07[' ]| against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family 113:062,08[' ]| of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared 113:062,09[' ]| anything about. 113:062,10[C ]| "It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," 113:062,10[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet, 113:062,11[C ]| "and nothing can clear Mr%*Collins from the guilt 113:062,12[C ]| of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his 113:062,13[C ]| letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner 113:062,14[C ]| of expressing himself." 113:062,15[D ]| "No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it was 113:062,16[D ]| very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very 113:062,17[D ]| hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not 113:062,18[D ]| he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before 113:062,19[D ]| him?" 113:062,20[C ]| "Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial 113:062,21[C ]| scruples on that head, as you will hear." 113:062,22[C ]| 113:062,23[K ]| \Hunsford\, \near\ \Westerham\, \Kent\, 113:062,24[K ]| \15th\ \October\. 113:062,25[K ]| DEAR SIR, 113:062,26[K ]| The disagreement subsisting between yourself and 113:062,27[K ]| my late honoured father, always gave me much uneasiness, 113:062,28[K ]| and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have 113:062,29[K ]| frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time 113:062,30[K ]| I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might 113:062,31[K ]| seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good 113:062,32[K ]| terms with any*one, with whom it had always pleased 113:062,33[K ]| him to be at variance. 113:062,33[C ]| "There, Mrs%*Bennet." ~~ 113:062,33[K ]| My mind 113:062,34[K ]| however is now made up on the subject, for having received 113:062,35[K ]| ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be 113:062,36[K ]| distinguished by the patronage of the*Right*Honourable*Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh, 113:062,37[K ]| widow of Sir*Lewis*de*Bourgh, 113:062,38[K ]| whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the 113:063,01[K ]| valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my 113:063,02[K ]| earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect 113:063,03[K ]| towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those 113:063,04[K ]| rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church 113:063,05[K ]| of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty 113:063,06[K ]| to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families 113:063,07[K ]| within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds 113:063,08[K ]| I flatter myself that my present overtures of good-will 113:063,09[K ]| are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of 113:063,10[K ]| my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate, will be 113:063,11[K ]| kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject 113:063,12[K ]| the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than 113:063,13[K ]| concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable 113:063,14[K ]| daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to 113:063,15[K ]| assure you of my readiness to make them every possible 113:063,16[K ]| amends, ~~ but of this hereafter. If you should have no 113:063,17[K ]| objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself 113:063,18[K ]| the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, 113:063,19[K ]| Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and shall 113:063,20[K ]| probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday 113:063,21[K ]| se'night following, which I can do without any inconvenience, 113:063,22[K ]| as Lady*Catherine is far from objecting to 113:063,23[K ]| my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some 113:063,24[K ]| other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. 113:063,25[K ]| I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your 113:063,26[K ]| lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend, 113:063,27[K ]| WILLIAM*COLLINS." 113:063,28[K ]| 113:063,29[C ]| "At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making 113:063,30[C ]| gentleman," 113:063,30[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet, as he folded up the 113:063,31[' ]| letter. 113:063,31[C ]| "He seems to be a most conscientious and polite 113:063,32[C ]| young man, upon my word; and I doubt not will prove 113:063,33[C ]| a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady*Catherine 113:063,34[C ]| should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again." 113:063,35[D ]| "There is some sense in what he says about the girls 113:063,36[D ]| however; and if he is disposed to make them any amends, 113:063,37[D ]| I shall not be the person to discourage him." 113:063,38[E ]| "Though it is difficult," 113:063,38[' ]| said Jane, 113:063,38[E ]| "to guess in what 113:064,01[E ]| way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks 113:064,02[E ]| our due, the wish is certainly to his credit." 113:064,03[' ]| Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary 113:064,04[' ]| deference for Lady*Catherine, and his kind intention of 113:064,05[' ]| christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever 113:064,06[' ]| it were required. 113:064,07[A ]| "He must be an oddity, I think," 113:064,07[' ]| said she, 113:064,07[A ]| "I cannot 113:064,08[A ]| make him out. ~~ There is something very pompous in his 113:064,09[A ]| stile. ~~ And what can he mean by apologizing for being 113:064,10[A ]| next in the entail? ~~ We cannot suppose he would help 113:064,11[A ]| it, if he could. ~~ Can he be a sensible man, sir?" 113:064,12[C ]| "No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of 113:064,13[C ]| finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of 113:064,14[C ]| servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises 113:064,15[C ]| well. I am impatient to see him." 113:064,16[F ]| "In point of composition," 113:064,16[' ]| said Mary, 113:064,16[F ]| "his letter does 113:064,17[F ]| not seem defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps 113:064,18[F ]| is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed." 113:064,19[' ]| To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its 113:064,20[' ]| writer were in any degree interesting. It was next to 113:064,21[' ]| impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, 113:064,22[' ]| and it was now some weeks since they had received 113:064,23[' ]| pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. 113:064,24[' ]| As for their mother, Mr%*Collins's letter had done away 113:064,25[' ]| much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see him 113:064,26[' ]| with a degree of composure, which astonished her husband 113:064,27[' ]| and daughters. 113:064,28[' ]| Mr%*Collins was punctual to his time, and was received 113:064,29[' ]| with great politeness by the whole family. Mr%*Bennet 113:064,30[' ]| indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to 113:064,31[' ]| talk, and Mr%*Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, 113:064,32[' ]| nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy looking 113:064,33[' ]| young man of five*and*twenty. His air was grave 113:064,34[' ]| and stately, and his manners were very formal. He had 113:064,35[' ]| not been long seated before he complimented Mrs%*Bennet 113:064,36[' ]| on having so fine a family of daughters, said 113:064,36@k | he had heard 113:064,37@k | much of their beauty, but that, in this instance, fame had 113:064,38@k | fallen short of the truth; 113:064,38[' ]| and added, that 113:064,38@k | he did not 113:065,01@k | doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in 113:065,02@k | marriage. 113:065,02[' ]| This gallantry was not much to the taste of 113:065,03[' ]| some of his hearers, but Mrs%*Bennet, who quarrelled with 113:065,04[' ]| no compliments, answered most readily, 113:065,05[D ]| "You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all 113:065,06[D ]| my heart it may prove so; for else they will be destitute 113:065,07[D ]| enough. Things are settled so oddly." 113:065,08[K ]| "You allude perhaps to the entail of this estate." 113:065,09[D ]| "Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my 113:065,10[D ]| poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find 113:065,11[D ]| fault with \you\, for such things I know are all chance in 113:065,12[D ]| this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when 113:065,13[D ]| once they come to be entailed." 113:065,14[K ]| "I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my 113:065,15[K ]| fair cousins, ~~ and could say much on the subject, but that 113:065,16[K ]| I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. 113:065,17[K ]| But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared 113:065,18[K ]| to admire them. At present I will not say more, but 113:065,19[K ]| perhaps when we are better acquainted ~" 113:065,20[' ]| He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the 113:065,21[' ]| girls smiled on each other. They were not the only objects 113:065,22[' ]| of Mr%*Collins's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, 113:065,23[' ]| and all its furniture were examined and praised; and his 113:065,24[' ]| commendation of every*thing would have touched Mrs%*Bennet's 113:065,25[' ]| heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his 113:065,26[' ]| viewing it all as his own future property. The dinner too 113:065,27[' ]| in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to know 113:065,28@k | to which of his fair cousins, the excellence of its cookery 113:065,29@k | was owing. 113:065,29[' ]| But here he was set right by Mrs%*Bennet, 113:065,30[' ]| who assured him with some asperity that 113:065,30@d | they were very 113:065,31@d | well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had 113:065,32@d | nothing to do in the kitchen. 113:065,32[' ]| He begged pardon for having 113:065,33[' ]| displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself 113:065,34[' ]| not at all offended; but he continued to apologise for 113:065,35[' ]| about a quarter of an hour. 114:066,01[' ]| During dinner, Mr%*Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but 114:066,02[' ]| when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time 114:066,03[' ]| to have some conversation with his guest, and therefore 114:066,04[' ]| started a subject in which he expected him to shine, by 114:066,05[' ]| observing that 114:066,05@c | he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. 114:066,06@c | Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh's attention to his wishes, and 114:066,07@c | consideration for his comfort, appeared very remarkable. 114:066,08[' ]| Mr%*Bennet could not have chosen better. Mr%*Collins 114:066,09[' ]| was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him to 114:066,10[' ]| more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most 114:066,11[' ]| important aspect he protested that 114:066,11@k | he had never in his 114:066,12@k | life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank ~~ such 114:066,13@k | affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced 114:066,14@k | from Lady*Catherine. She had been graciously pleased 114:066,15@k | to approve of both the discourses, which he had already 114:066,16@k | had the honour of preaching before her. She had also 114:066,17@k | asked him twice to dine at Rosings, and had sent for him 114:066,18@k | only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of quadrille 114:066,19@k | in the evening. Lady*Catherine was reckoned proud by 114:066,20@k | many people he knew, but \he\ had never seen any*thing 114:066,21@k | but affability in her. She had always spoken to him as 114:066,22@k | she would to any other gentleman; she made not the 114:066,23@k | smallest objection to his joining in the society of the 114:066,24@k | neighbourhood, nor to his leaving his parish occasionally 114:066,25@k | for a week or two, to visit his relations. She had even 114:066,26@k | condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, 114:066,27@k | provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid 114:066,28@k | him a visit in his humble parsonage; where she had 114:066,29@k | perfectly approved all the alterations he had been making, 114:066,30@k | and had even vouchsafed to suggest some herself, ~~ some 114:066,31@k | shelves in the closets up*stairs." 114:066,32[D ]| "That is all very proper and civil, I am sure," 114:066,32[' ]| said 114:066,33[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, 114:066,33[D ]| "and I dare say she is a very agreeable 114:067,01[D ]| woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not 114:067,02[D ]| more like her. Does she live near you, sir?" 114:067,03[K ]| "The garden in which stands my humble abode, is 114:067,04[K ]| separated only by a lane from Rosings*Park, her ladyship's 114:067,05[K ]| residence." 114:067,06[D ]| "I think you said she was a widow, sir? has she any 114:067,07[D ]| family?" 114:067,08[K ]| "She has one only daughter, the heiress of Rosings, 114:067,09[K ]| and of very extensive property." 114:067,10[D ]| "Ah!" 114:067,10[' ]| cried Mrs%*Bennet, shaking her head, 114:067,10[D ]| "then 114:067,11[D ]| she is better off than many girls. And what sort of young 114:067,12[D ]| lady is she? is she handsome?" 114:067,13[K ]| "She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady*Catherine 114:067,14[K ]| herself says that in point of true beauty, Miss*De*Bourgh 114:067,15[K ]| is far superior to the handsomest of her sex; 114:067,16[K ]| because there is that in her features which marks the 114:067,17[K ]| young woman of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately 114:067,18[K ]| of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her 114:067,19[K ]| making that progress in many accomplishments, which 114:067,20[K ]| she could not otherwise have failed of; as I am informed 114:067,21[K ]| by the lady who superintended her education, and who 114:067,22[K ]| still resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, 114:067,23[K ]| and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in 114:067,24[K ]| her little phaeton and ponies." 114:067,25[D ]| "Has she been presented? I do not remember her 114:067,26[D ]| name among the ladies at court." 114:067,27[K ]| "Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents 114:067,28[K ]| her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady*Catherine 114:067,29[K ]| myself one day, has deprived the British court 114:067,30[K ]| of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship seemed pleased 114:067,31[K ]| with the idea, and you may imagine that I am happy 114:067,32[K ]| on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments 114:067,33[K ]| which are always acceptable to ladies. I have 114:067,34[K ]| more than once observed to Lady*Catherine, that her 114:067,35[K ]| charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that 114:067,36[K ]| the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, 114:067,37[K ]| would be adorned by her. ~~ These are the kind of little 114:067,38[K ]| things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of 114:068,01[K ]| attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to 114:068,02[K ]| pay." 114:068,03[C ]| "You judge very properly," 114:068,03[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet, 114:068,03[C ]| "and it 114:068,04[C ]| is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering 114:068,05[C ]| with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions 114:068,06[C ]| proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the 114:068,07[C ]| result of previous study?" 114:068,08[K ]| "They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, 114:068,09[K ]| and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting 114:068,10[K ]| and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be 114:068,11[K ]| adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them 114:068,12[K ]| as unstudied an air as possible." 114:068,13[' ]| Mr%*Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His 114:068,14[' ]| cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened 114:068,15[' ]| to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the 114:068,16[' ]| same time the most resolute composure of countenance, 114:068,17[' ]| and except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring 114:068,18[' ]| no partner in his pleasure. 114:068,19[' ]| By tea-time however the dose had been enough, and 114:068,20[' ]| Mr%*Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room 114:068,21[' ]| again, and when tea was over, glad to invite him 114:068,22[' ]| to read aloud to the ladies. Mr%*Collins readily assented, 114:068,23[' ]| and a book was produced; but on beholding it, (for 114:068,24[' ]| every*thing announced it to be from a circulating library,) 114:068,25[' ]| he started back, and begging pardon, protested that he 114:068,26[' ]| never read novels. ~~ Kitty stared at him, and Lydia 114:068,27[' ]| exclaimed. ~~ Other books were produced, and after some 114:068,28[' ]| deliberation he chose Fordyce's Sermons. Lydia gaped 114:068,29[' ]| as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very 114:068,30[' ]| monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted 114:068,31[' ]| him with, 114:068,32[H ]| "Do you know, mama, that my uncle Philips talks 114:068,33[H ]| of turning away Richard, and if he does, Colonel*Forster 114:068,34[H ]| will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. 114:068,35[H ]| I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about 114:068,36[H ]| it, and to ask when Mr%*Denny comes back from 114:068,37[H ]| town." 114:068,38[' ]| Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her 114:069,01[' ]| tongue; but Mr%*Collins, much offended, laid aside his 114:069,02[' ]| book, and said, 114:069,03[K ]| "I have often observed how little young ladies are 114:069,04[K ]| interested by books of a serious stamp, though written 114:069,05[K ]| solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; ~~ for 114:069,06[K ]| certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them 114:069,07[K ]| as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young 114:069,08[K ]| cousin." 114:069,09[' ]| Then turning to Mr%*Bennet he offered himself as his 114:069,10[' ]| antagonist at backgammon. Mr%*Bennet accepted the 114:069,11[' ]| challenge, observing that 114:069,11@c | he acted very wisely in leaving 114:069,12@c | the girls to their own trifling amusements. 114:069,12[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet 114:069,13[' ]| and her daughters apologised most civilly for Lydia's 114:069,14[' ]| interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, 114:069,15[' ]| if he would resume his book; but Mr%*Collins, after 114:069,16[' ]| assuring them that 114:069,16@k | he bore his young cousin no ill*will, 114:069,17@k | and should never resent her behaviour as any affront, 114:069,18[' ]| seated himself at another table with Mr%*Bennet, and 114:069,19[' ]| prepared for backgammon. 115:070,01[' ]| Mr%*Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency 115:070,02[' ]| of nature had been but little assisted by education or 115:070,03[' ]| society; the greatest part of his life having been spent 115:070,04[' ]| under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father; 115:070,05[' ]| and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had 115:070,06[' ]| merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it 115:070,07[' ]| any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his 115:070,08[' ]| father had brought him up, had given him originally great 115:070,09[' ]| humility of manner, but it was now a good deal counteracted 115:070,10[' ]| by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, 115:070,11[' ]| and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected 115:070,12[' ]| prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended 115:070,13[' ]| him to Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh when the living of 115:070,14[' ]| Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for 115:070,15[' ]| her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, 115:070,16[' ]| mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his 115:070,17[' ]| authority as a clergyman, and his rights as a rector, made 115:070,18[' ]| him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, 115:070,19[' ]| self-importance and humility. 115:070,20[' ]| Having now a good house and very sufficient income, 115:070,21[' ]| he intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation 115:070,22[' ]| with the Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he 115:070,23[' ]| meant to chuse one of the daughters, if he found them 115:070,24[' ]| as handsome and amiable as they were represented by 115:070,25[' ]| common report. This was his plan of amends ~~ of atonement ~~ 115:070,26[' ]| for inheriting their father's estate; and he thought 115:070,27[' ]| it an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness, 115:070,28[' ]| and excessively generous and disinterested on his own 115:070,29[' ]| part. 115:070,30[' ]| His plan did not vary on seeing them. ~~ Miss*Bennet's 115:070,31[' ]| lovely face confirmed his views, and established all his 115:070,32[' ]| strictest notions of what was due to seniority; and for 115:070,33[' ]| the first evening \she\ was his settled choice. The next 115:071,01[' ]| morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter 115:071,02[' ]| of an hour's te^te-a`-te^te with Mrs%*Bennet before breakfast, 115:071,03[' ]| a conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and 115:071,04[' ]| leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress 115:071,05[' ]| for it might be found at Longbourn, produced from her, 115:071,06[' ]| amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, 115:071,07[' ]| a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. ~~ 115:071,07[D ]| "As 115:071,08[D ]| to her \younger\ daughters she could not take upon her to 115:071,09[D ]| say ~~ she could not positively answer ~~ but she did not 115:071,10[D ]| \know\ of any prepossession; ~~ her \eldest\ daughter, she must 115:071,11[D ]| just mention ~~ she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was 115:071,12[D ]| likely to be very soon engaged." 115:071,13[' ]| Mr%*Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth ~~ 115:071,14[' ]| and it was soon done ~~ done while Mrs%*Bennet was 115:071,15[' ]| stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally next to Jane in birth 115:071,16[' ]| and beauty, succeeded her of course. 115:071,17[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she 115:071,18[' ]| might soon have two daughters married; and the man 115:071,19[' ]| whom she could not bear to speak of the day before, was 115:071,20[' ]| now high in her good graces. 115:071,21[' ]| Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not 115:071,22[' ]| forgotten; every sister except Mary agreed to go with 115:071,23[' ]| her; and Mr%*Collins was to attend them, at the request 115:071,24[' ]| of Mr%*Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, 115:071,25[' ]| and have his library to himself; for thither Mr%*Collins 115:071,26[' ]| had followed him after breakfast, and there he would 115:071,27[' ]| continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios 115:071,28[' ]| in the collection, but really talking to Mr%*Bennet, with 115:071,29[' ]| little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. 115:071,30[' ]| Such doings discomposed Mr%*Bennet exceedingly. In his 115:071,31[' ]| library he had been always sure of leisure and tranquillity; 115:071,32[' ]| and 115:071,32@c | though prepared, 115:071,32[' ]| as he told Elizabeth, 115:071,32@c | to meet with 115:071,33@c | folly and conceit in every other room in the house, he was 115:071,34@c | used to be free from them there; 115:071,34[' ]| his civility, therefore, 115:071,35[' ]| was most prompt in inviting Mr%*Collins to join his 115:071,36[' ]| daughters in their walk; and Mr%*Collins, being in fact 115:071,37[' ]| much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely 115:071,38[' ]| well pleased to close his large book, and go. 115:072,01[' ]| In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on 115:072,02[' ]| that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered 115:072,03[' ]| Meryton. The attention of the younger ones was then 115:072,04[' ]| no longer to be gained by \him\. Their eyes were immediately 115:072,05[' ]| wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, 115:072,06[' ]| and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or 115:072,07[' ]| a really new muslin in a shop window, could recal them. 115:072,08[' ]| But the attention of every lady was soon caught by 115:072,09[' ]| a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most 115:072,10[' ]| gentlemanlike appearance, walking with an officer on the 115:072,11[' ]| other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr%*Denny, 115:072,12[' ]| concerning whose return from London Lydia came to 115:072,13[' ]| inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck 115:072,14[' ]| with the stranger's air, all wondered who he could be, and 115:072,15[' ]| Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to find out, led 115:072,16[' ]| the way across the street, under pretence of wanting 115:072,17[' ]| something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just 115:072,18[' ]| gained the pavement when the two gentlemen turning 115:072,19[' ]| back had reached the same spot. Mr%*Denny addressed 115:072,20[' ]| them directly, and 115:072,20@w | entreated permission to introduce his 115:072,21@w | friend, Mr%*Wickham, who had returned with him the day 115:072,22@w | before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted 115:072,23@w | a commission in their corps. 115:072,23[' ]| This was exactly as it should 115:072,24[' ]| be; for the young man wanted only regimentals to make 115:072,25[' ]| him completely charming. His appearance was greatly 115:072,26[' ]| in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine 115:072,27[' ]| countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. 115:072,28[' ]| The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy 115:072,29[' ]| readiness of conversation ~~ a readiness at the same time 115:072,30[' ]| perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party 115:072,31[' ]| were still standing and talking together very agreeably, 115:072,32[' ]| when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy 115:072,33[' ]| and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing 115:072,34[' ]| the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen 115:072,35[' ]| came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. 115:072,36[' ]| Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss*Bennet the 115:072,37[' ]| principal object. 115:072,37@i | He was then, 115:072,37[' ]| he said, 115:072,37@i | on his way to 115:072,38@i | Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. 115:072,38[' ]| Mr%*Darcy 115:073,01[' ]| corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine 115:073,02[' ]| not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were 115:073,03[' ]| suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and 115:073,04[' ]| Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as 115:073,05[' ]| they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the 115:073,06[' ]| effect of the meeting. 115:073,06@a | Both changed colour, one looked 115:073,07@a | white, the other red. Mr%*Wickham, after a few moments, 115:073,08@a | touched his hat ~~ a salutation which Mr%*Darcy just 115:073,09@a | deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? ~~ 115:073,10@a | It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to 115:073,11@a | long to know. 115:073,12[' ]| In another minute Mr%*Bingley, but without seeming 115:073,13[' ]| to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with 115:073,14[' ]| his friend. 115:073,15[' ]| Mr%*Denny and Mr%*Wickham walked with the young 115:073,16[' ]| ladies to the door of Mr%*Philips's house, and then made 115:073,17[' ]| their bows, in spite of Miss*Lydia's pressing entreaties 115:073,18[' ]| that they would come in, and even in spite of Mrs%*Philips' 115:073,19[' ]| throwing up the parlour window, and loudly seconding the 115:073,20[' ]| invitation. 115:073,21[' ]| Mrs%*Philips was always glad to see her nieces, and the 115:073,22[' ]| two eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly 115:073,23[' ]| welcome, and she was eagerly expressing 115:073,23@v | her surprise at 115:073,24@v | their sudden return home, which, as their own carriage 115:073,25@v | had not fetched them, she should have known nothing 115:073,26@v | about, if she had not happened to see Mr%*Jones's shop*boy 115:073,27@v | in the street, who had told her that they were not to send 115:073,28@v | any more draughts to Netherfield because the Miss*Bennets 115:073,29@v | were come away, 115:073,29[' ]| when her civility was claimed 115:073,30[' ]| towards Mr%*Collins by Jane's introduction of him. She 115:073,31[' ]| received him with her very best politeness, which he 115:073,32[' ]| returned with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, 115:073,33[' ]| without any previous acquaintance with her, which he 115:073,34[' ]| could not help flattering himself however might be justified 115:073,35[' ]| by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced 115:073,36[' ]| him to her notice. Mrs%*Philips was quite awed by such 115:073,37[' ]| an excess of good*breeding; but her contemplation of 115:073,38[' ]| one stranger was soon put an end to by exclamations and 115:074,01[' ]| inquiries about the other, of whom, however, she could 115:074,02[' ]| only tell her nieces what they already knew, that 115:074,02@v | Mr%*Denny 115:074,03@v | had brought him from London, and that he was 115:074,04@v | to have a lieutenant's commission in the *****shire. She 115:074,05@v | had been watching him the last hour, 115:074,05[' ]| she said, 115:074,05@v | as he walked 115:074,06@v | up and down the street, 115:074,06[' ]| and had Mr%*Wickham appeared 115:074,07[' ]| Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the 115:074,08[' ]| occupation, but unluckily no*one passed the window 115:074,09[' ]| now except a few of the officers, who in comparison with 115:074,10[' ]| the stranger, were become 115:074,10[Y ]| "stupid, disagreeable fellows." 115:074,11[' ]| Some of them were to dine with the Philipses the next 115:074,12[' ]| day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call 115:074,13[' ]| on Mr%*Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the 115:074,14[' ]| family from Longbourn would come in the evening. This 115:074,15[' ]| was agreed to, and Mrs%*Philips protested that 115:074,15@v | they would 115:074,16@v | have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery tickets, and 115:074,17@v | a little bit of hot supper afterwards. 115:074,17[' ]| The prospect of 115:074,18[' ]| such delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual 115:074,19[' ]| good spirits. Mr%*Collins repeated his apologies in quitting 115:074,20[' ]| the room, and was assured with unwearying civility that 115:074,21[' ]| they were perfectly needless. 115:074,22[' ]| As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what 115:074,23[' ]| she had seen pass between the two gentlemen; but though 115:074,24[' ]| Jane would have defended either or both, had they 115:074,25[' ]| appeared to be wrong, she could no more explain such 115:074,26[' ]| behaviour than her sister. 115:074,27[' ]| Mr%*Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs%*Bennet 115:074,28[' ]| by admiring Mrs%*Philips's manners and politeness. He 115:074,29[' ]| protested that 115:074,29@k | except Lady*Catherine and her daughter, 115:074,30@k | he had never seen a more elegant woman; for she had 115:074,31@k | not only received him with the utmost civility, but had 115:074,32@k | even pointedly included him in her invitation for the next 115:074,33@k | evening, although utterly unknown to her before. Something 115:074,34@k | he supposed might be attributed to his connection 115:074,35@k | with them, but yet he had never met with so much 115:074,36@k | attention in the whole course of his life. 116:075,01[' ]| As no objection was made to the young people's engagement 116:075,02[' ]| with their aunt, and all Mr%*Collins's scruples of 116:075,03[' ]| leaving Mr% and Mrs%*Bennet for a single evening during 116:075,04[' ]| his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed 116:075,05[' ]| him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; 116:075,06[' ]| and the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered 116:075,07[' ]| the drawing-room, that Mr%*Wickham had accepted their 116:075,08[' ]| uncle's invitation, and was then in the house. 116:075,09[' ]| When this information was given, and they had all 116:075,10[' ]| taken their seats, Mr%*Collins was at leisure to look around 116:075,11[' ]| him and admire, and he was so much struck with the size 116:075,12[' ]| and furniture of the apartment, that he declared 116:075,12@k | he might 116:075,13@k | almost have supposed himself in the small summer 116:075,14@k | breakfast*parlour at Rosings; 116:075,14[' ]| a comparison that did not 116:075,15[' ]| at first convey much gratification; but when Mrs%*Philips 116:075,16[' ]| understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its 116:075,17[' ]| proprietor, when she had listened to the description of 116:075,18[' ]| only one of Lady*Catherine's drawing-rooms, and found 116:075,19[' ]| that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred 116:075,20[' ]| pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment, and would 116:075,21[' ]| hardly have resented a comparison with the housekeeper's 116:075,22[' ]| room. 116:075,23[' ]| In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady*Catherine 116:075,24[' ]| and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of 116:075,25[' ]| his own humble abode, and the improvements it was 116:075,26[' ]| receiving, he was happily employed until the gentlemen 116:075,27[' ]| joined them; and he found in Mrs%*Philips a very attentive 116:075,28[' ]| listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with 116:075,29[' ]| what she heard, and who was resolving to retail it all 116:075,30[' ]| among her neighbours as soon as she could. To the girls, 116:075,31[' ]| who could not listen to their cousin, and who had nothing 116:075,32[' ]| to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine their 116:075,33[' ]| own indifferent imitations of china on the mantlepiece, the 116:076,01[' ]| interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at 116:076,02[' ]| last however. The gentlemen did approach; and when 116:076,03[' ]| Mr%*Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that 116:076,04[' ]| she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him 116:076,05[' ]| since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. 116:076,06@a | The officers of the *****shire were in general a very creditable, 116:076,07@a | gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the 116:076,08@a | present party; but Mr%*Wickham was as far beyond them 116:076,09@a | all in person, countenance, air, and walk, as \they\ were 116:076,10@a | superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips, breathing 116:076,11@a | port wine, who followed them into the room. 116:076,12[' ]| Mr%*Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost 116:076,13[' ]| every female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the 116:076,14[' ]| happy woman by whom he finally seated himself; and 116:076,15[' ]| the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into 116:076,16[' ]| conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, 116:076,17[' ]| and on the probability of a rainy season, made her feel 116:076,18[' ]| that 116:076,18@a | the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might 116:076,19@a | be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. 116:076,20[' ]| With such rivals for the notice of the fair, as Mr%*Wickham 116:076,21[' ]| and the officers, Mr%*Collins seemed likely to sink 116:076,22[' ]| into insignificance; to the young ladies he certainly was 116:076,23[' ]| nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind listener in 116:076,24[' ]| Mrs%*Philips, and was, by her watchfulness, most abundantly 116:076,25[' ]| supplied with coffee and muffin. 116:076,26[' ]| When the card*tables were placed, he had an opportunity 116:076,27[' ]| of obliging her in return, by sitting down to whist. 116:076,28[K ]| "I know little of the game, at present," 116:076,28[' ]| said he, 116:076,28[K ]| "but 116:076,29[K ]| I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation of 116:076,30[K ]| life ~" 116:076,30[' ]| Mrs%*Philips was very thankful for his compliance, 116:076,31[' ]| but could not wait for his reason. 116:076,32[' ]| Mr%*Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready 116:076,33[' ]| delight was he received at the other table between Elizabeth 116:076,34[' ]| and Lydia. At first there seemed danger of Lydia's 116:076,35[' ]| engrossing him entirely, for she was a most determined 116:076,36[' ]| talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery 116:076,37[' ]| tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the game, 116:076,38[' ]| too eager in making bets and exclaiming after prizes, to 116:077,01[' ]| have attention for any*one in particular. Allowing for 116:077,02[' ]| the common demands of the game, Mr%*Wickham was 116:077,03[' ]| therefore at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very 116:077,04[' ]| willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to 116:077,05[' ]| hear she could not hope to be told, the history of his 116:077,06[' ]| acquaintance with Mr%*Darcy. She dared not even 116:077,07[' ]| mention that gentleman. Her curiosity however was 116:077,08[' ]| unexpectedly relieved. Mr%*Wickham began the subject 116:077,09[' ]| himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from 116:077,10[' ]| Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in an 116:077,11[' ]| hesitating manner how long Mr%*Darcy had been staying 116:077,12[' ]| there. 116:077,13[A ]| "About a month," 116:077,13[' ]| said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling 116:077,14[' ]| to let the subject drop, added, 116:077,14[A ]| "He is a man of very large 116:077,15[A ]| property in Derbyshire, I understand." 116:077,16[P ]| "Yes," 116:077,16[' ]| replied Wickham; ~~ 116:077,16[P ]| "his estate there is a noble 116:077,17[P ]| one. A clear ten thousand per*annum. You could not 116:077,18[P ]| have met with a person more capable of giving you certain 116:077,19[P ]| information on that head than myself ~~ for I have been 116:077,20[P ]| connected with his family in a particular manner from my 116:077,21[P ]| infancy." 116:077,22[' ]| Elizabeth could not but look surprised. 116:077,23[P ]| "You may well be surprised, Miss*Bennet, at such an 116:077,24[P ]| assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very 116:077,25[P ]| cold manner of our meeting yesterday. ~~ Are you much 116:077,26[P ]| acquainted with Mr%*Darcy?" 116:077,27[A ]| "As much as I ever wish to be," 116:077,27[' ]| cried Elizabeth 116:077,28[' ]| warmly, ~~ 116:077,28[A ]| "I have spent four days in the same house 116:077,29[A ]| with him, and I think him very disagreeable." 116:077,30[P ]| "I have no right to give \my\ opinion," 116:077,30[' ]| said Wickham, 116:077,31[P ]| "as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified 116:077,32[P ]| to form one. I have known him too long and too well to 116:077,33[P ]| be a fair judge. It is impossible for \me\ to be impartial. 116:077,34[P ]| But I believe your opinion of him would in general 116:077,35[P ]| astonish ~~ and perhaps you would not express it quite so 116:077,36[P ]| strongly anywhere else. ~~ Here you are in your own family." 116:077,37[A ]| "Upon my word I say no more \here\ than I might say 116:077,38[A ]| in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. 116:078,01[A ]| He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Every*body is 116:078,02[A ]| disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more 116:078,03[A ]| favourably spoken of by any*one." 116:078,04[P ]| "I cannot pretend to be sorry," 116:078,04[' ]| said Wickham, after 116:078,05[' ]| a short interruption, 116:078,05[P ]| "that he or that any man should 116:078,06[P ]| not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with \him\ 116:078,07[P ]| I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded 116:078,08[P ]| by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high 116:078,09[P ]| and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chuses to 116:078,10[P ]| be seen." 116:078,11[A ]| "I should take him, even on \my\ slight acquaintance, 116:078,12[A ]| to be an ill-tempered man." 116:078,12[' ]| Wickham only shook his 116:078,13[' ]| head. 116:078,14[P ]| "I wonder," 116:078,14[' ]| said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, 116:078,15[P ]| "whether he is likely to be in this country much 116:078,16[P ]| longer." 116:078,17[A ]| "I do not at all know; but I \heard\ nothing of his going 116:078,18[A ]| away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in 116:078,19[A ]| favour of the *****shire will not be affected by his being 116:078,20[A ]| in the neighbourhood." 116:078,21[P ]| "Oh! no ~~ it is not for \me\ to be driven away by 116:078,22[P ]| Mr%*Darcy. If \he\ wishes to avoid seeing \me\, he must go. 116:078,23[P ]| We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain 116:078,24[P ]| to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding \him\ 116:078,25[P ]| but what I might proclaim to all the world; a sense of 116:078,26[P ]| very great ill*usage, and most painful regrets at his being 116:078,27[P ]| what he is. His father, Miss*Bennet, the late Mr%*Darcy, 116:078,28[P ]| was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest 116:078,29[P ]| friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with 116:078,30[P ]| this Mr%*Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a 116:078,31[P ]| thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself 116:078,32[P ]| has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive 116:078,33[P ]| him any*thing and every*thing, rather than his disappointing 116:078,34[P ]| the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father." 116:078,35[' ]| Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and 116:078,36[' ]| listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented 116:078,37[' ]| farther inquiry. 116:078,38[' ]| Mr%*Wickham began to speak on more general topics, 116:079,01[' ]| Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly 116:079,02[' ]| pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the 116:079,03[' ]| latter especially, with gentle but very intelligible gallantry. 116:079,04[P ]| "It was the prospect of constant society, and good 116:079,05[P ]| society," 116:079,05[' ]| he added, 116:079,05[P ]| "which was my chief inducement to 116:079,06[P ]| enter the *****shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, 116:079,07[P ]| agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me farther 116:079,08[P ]| by his account of their present quarters, and the very great 116:079,09[P ]| attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured 116:079,10[P ]| them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have 116:079,11[P ]| been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear 116:079,12[P ]| solitude. I \must\ have employment and society. A 116:079,13[P ]| military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances 116:079,14[P ]| have now made it eligible. The church \ought\ to 116:079,15[P ]| have been my profession ~~ I was brought up for the church, 116:079,16[P ]| and I should at this time have been in possession of a most 116:079,17[P ]| valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were 116:079,18[P ]| speaking of just now." 116:079,19[A ]| "Indeed!" 116:079,20[P ]| "Yes ~~ the late Mr%*Darcy bequeathed me the next 116:079,21[P ]| presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my 116:079,22[P ]| godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do 116:079,23[P ]| justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me 116:079,24[P ]| amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living 116:079,25[P ]| fell, it was given elsewhere." 116:079,26[A ]| "Good heavens!" 116:079,26[' ]| cried Elizabeth; 116:079,26[A ]| "but how could 116:079,27[A ]| \that\ be? ~~ How could his will be disregarded? ~~ Why did 116:079,28[A ]| not you seek legal redress?" 116:079,29[P ]| "There was just such an informality in the terms of 116:079,30[P ]| the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of 116:079,31[P ]| honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr%*Darcy 116:079,32[P ]| chose to doubt it ~~ or to treat it as a merely conditional 116:079,33[P ]| recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited 116:079,34[P ]| all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short 116:079,35[P ]| any*thing or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became 116:079,36[P ]| vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold 116:079,37[P ]| it, and that it was given to another man; and no less 116:079,38[P ]| certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really 116:080,01[P ]| done any*thing to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, 116:080,02[P ]| unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes 116:080,03[P ]| spoken my opinion \of\ him, and \to\ him, too freely. I can 116:080,04[P ]| recal nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very 116:080,05[P ]| different sort of men, and that he hates me." 116:080,06[A ]| "This is quite shocking! ~~ He deserves to be publicly 116:080,07[A ]| disgraced." 116:080,08[P ]| "Some*time or other he \will\ be ~~ but it shall not be 116:080,09[P ]| by \me\. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or 116:080,10[P ]| expose \him\." 116:080,11[' ]| Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought 116:080,12[' ]| him handsomer than ever as he expressed them. 116:080,13[A ]| "But what," 116:080,13[' ]| said she, after a pause, 116:080,13[A ]| "can have been 116:080,14[A ]| his motive? ~~ what can have induced him to behave so 116:080,15[A ]| cruelly?" 116:080,16[P ]| "A thorough, determined dislike of me ~~ a dislike which 116:080,17[P ]| I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had 116:080,18[P ]| the late Mr%*Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne 116:080,19[P ]| with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment 116:080,20[P ]| to me, irritated him I believe very early in life. He had 116:080,21[P ]| not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we 116:080,22[P ]| stood ~~ the sort of preference which was often given me." 116:080,23[A ]| "I had not thought Mr%*Darcy so bad as this ~~ though 116:080,24[A ]| I have never liked him, I had not thought so very ill of 116:080,25[A ]| him ~~ I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures 116:080,26[A ]| in general, but did not suspect him of descending 116:080,27[A ]| to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity 116:080,28[A ]| as this!" 116:080,29[' ]| After a few minutes reflection, however, she continued, 116:080,30[A ]| "I \do\ remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of 116:080,31[A ]| the implacability of his resentments, of his having an 116:080,32[A ]| unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful." 116:080,33[P ]| "I will not trust myself on the subject," 116:080,33[' ]| replied Wickham, 116:080,34[P ]| "\I\ can hardly be just to him." 116:080,35[' ]| Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time 116:080,36[' ]| exclaimed, 116:080,36[A ]| "To treat in such a manner, the godson, the 116:080,37[A ]| friend, the favourite of his father!" ~~ 116:080,37[' ]| She could have 116:080,38[' ]| added, 116:080,38@a | "A young man too, like \you\, whose very countenance 116:081,01@a | may vouch for your being amiable? ~~ 116:081,01[' ]| but she 116:081,02[' ]| contented herself with 116:081,02[A ]| "And one, too, who had probably 116:081,03[A ]| been his own companion from childhood, connected 116:081,04[A ]| together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!" 116:081,05[P ]| "We were born in the same parish, within the same 116:081,06[P ]| park, the greatest part of our youth was passed together; 116:081,07[P ]| inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, 116:081,08[P ]| objects of the same parental care. \My\ father began life 116:081,09[P ]| in the profession which your uncle, Mr%*Philips, appears 116:081,10[P ]| to do so much credit to ~~ but he gave up every*thing to 116:081,11[P ]| be of use to the late Mr%*Darcy, and devoted all his time 116:081,12[P ]| to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most 116:081,13[P ]| highly esteemed by Mr%*Darcy, a most intimate, confidential 116:081,14[P ]| friend. Mr%*Darcy often acknowledged himself to 116:081,15[P ]| be under the greatest obligations to my father's active 116:081,16[P ]| superintendance, and when immediately before my father's 116:081,17[P ]| death, Mr%*Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing 116:081,18[P ]| for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much 116:081,19[P ]| a debt of gratitude to \him\, as of affection to myself." 116:081,20[A ]| "How strange!" 116:081,20[' ]| cried Elizabeth. 116:081,20[A ]| "How abominable! ~~ 116:081,21[A ]| I wonder that the very pride of this Mr%*Darcy 116:081,22[A ]| has not made him just to you! ~~ If from no better motive, 116:081,23[A ]| that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest, ~~ 116:081,24[A ]| for dishonesty I must call it." 116:081,25[P ]| "It \is\ wonderful," ~~ 116:081,25[' ]| replied Wickham, ~~ 116:081,25[P ]| "for almost 116:081,26[P ]| all his actions may be traced to pride; ~~ and pride has 116:081,27[P ]| often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer 116:081,28[P ]| with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none of 116:081,29[P ]| us consistent; and in his behaviour to me, there were 116:081,30[P ]| stronger impulses even than pride." 116:081,31[A ]| "Can such abominable pride as his, have ever done 116:081,32[A ]| him good?" 116:081,33[P ]| "Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, ~~ 116:081,34[P ]| to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist 116:081,35[P ]| his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and \filial\ 116:081,36[P ]| pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have 116:081,37[P ]| done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate 116:081,38[P ]| from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the 116:082,01[P ]| Pemberley*House, is a powerful motive. He has also 116:082,02[P ]| \brotherly\ pride, which with \some\ brotherly affection, makes 116:082,03[P ]| him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister; and you 116:082,04[P ]| will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and 116:082,05[P ]| best of brothers." 116:082,06[A ]| "What sort of a girl is Miss*Darcy?" 116:082,07[' ]| He shook his head. ~~ 116:082,07[P ]| "I wish I could call her amiable. 116:082,08[P ]| It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too 116:082,09[P ]| much like her brother, ~~ very, very proud. ~~ As a child, 116:082,10[P ]| she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of 116:082,11[P ]| me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. 116:082,12[P ]| But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome 116:082,13[P ]| girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and I understand highly 116:082,14[P ]| accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has 116:082,15[P ]| been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends 116:082,16[P ]| her education." 116:082,17[' ]| After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, 116:082,18[' ]| Elizabeth could not help reverting once more to the first, 116:082,19[' ]| and saying, 116:082,20[A ]| "I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr%*Bingley! 116:082,21[A ]| How can Mr%*Bingley, who seems good*humour itself, and 116:082,22[A ]| is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with 116:082,23[A ]| such a man? How can they suit each other? ~~ Do you 116:082,24[A ]| know Mr%*Bingley?" 116:082,25[P ]| "Not at all." 116:082,26[A ]| "He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. 116:082,27[A ]| He cannot know what Mr%*Darcy is." 116:082,28[P ]| "Probably not; ~~ but Mr%*Darcy can please where he 116:082,29[P ]| chuses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible 116:082,30[P ]| companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among 116:082,31[P ]| those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very 116:082,32[P ]| different man from what he is to the less prosperous. 116:082,33[P ]| His pride never deserts him; but with the rich, he is 116:082,34[P ]| liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and 116:082,35[P ]| perhaps agreeable, ~~ allowing something for fortune and 116:082,36[P ]| figure." 116:082,37[' ]| The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players 116:082,38[' ]| gathered round the other table, and Mr%*Collins took his 116:083,01[' ]| station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs%*Philips. ~~ 116:083,02[' ]| The usual inquiries as to his success were made by the latter. 116:083,03[' ]| It had not been very great; he had lost every point; 116:083,04[' ]| but when Mrs%*Philips began to express her concern thereupon, 116:083,05[' ]| he assured her with much earnest gravity that 116:083,05@k | it 116:083,06@k | was not of the least importance, that he considered the 116:083,07@k | money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not make 116:083,08@k | herself uneasy. 116:083,09[K ]| "I know very well, madam," 116:083,09[' ]| said he, 116:083,09[K ]| "that when 116:083,10[K ]| persons sit down to a card*table, they must take their 116:083,11[K ]| chance of these things, ~~ and happily I am not in such 116:083,12[K ]| circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There 116:083,13[K ]| are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but 116:083,14[K ]| thanks to Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh, I am removed far 116:083,15[K ]| beyond the necessity of regarding little matters." 116:083,16[' ]| Mr%*Wickham's attention was caught; and after observing 116:083,17[' ]| Mr%*Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in 116:083,18[' ]| a low voice whether her relation were very intimately 116:083,19[' ]| acquainted with the family of de*Bourgh. 116:083,20[A ]| "Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh," 116:083,20[' ]| she replied, 116:083,20[A ]| "has very 116:083,21[A ]| lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr%*Collins 116:083,22[A ]| was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has 116:083,23[A ]| not known her long." 116:083,24[P ]| "You know of course that Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh 116:083,25[P ]| and Lady*Anne*Darcy were sisters; consequently that 116:083,26[P ]| she is aunt to the present Mr%*Darcy." 116:083,27[A ]| "No, indeed, I did not. ~~ I knew nothing at all of Lady*Catherine's 116:083,28[A ]| connections. I never heard of her existence 116:083,29[A ]| till the day before yesterday." 116:083,30[P ]| "Her daughter, Miss*de*Bourgh, will have a very large 116:083,31[P ]| fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will 116:083,32[P ]| unite the two estates." 116:083,33[' ]| This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought 116:083,34[' ]| of poor Miss*Bingley. 116:083,34@a | Vain indeed must be all her attentions, 116:083,35@a | vain and useless her affection for his sister and her 116:083,36@a | praise of himself, if he were already self-destined to 116:083,37@a | another. 116:083,38[A ]| "Mr%*Collins," 116:083,38[' ]| said she, 116:083,38[A ]| "speaks highly both of Lady*Catherine 116:084,01[A ]| and her daughter; but from some particulars 116:084,02[A ]| that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude 116:084,03[A ]| misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, 116:084,04[A ]| she is an arrogant, conceited woman." 116:084,05[P ]| "I believe her to be both in a great degree," 116:084,05[' ]| replied 116:084,06[' ]| Wickham; 116:084,06[P ]| "I have not seen her for many years, but 116:084,07[P ]| I very well remember that I never liked her, and that 116:084,08[P ]| her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the 116:084,09[P ]| reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but 116:084,10[P ]| I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her 116:084,11[P ]| rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, 116:084,12[P ]| and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who chuses 116:084,13[P ]| that every*one connected with him should have an understanding 116:084,14[P ]| of the first class." 116:084,15[' ]| Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational 116:084,16[' ]| account of it, and they continued talking together with 116:084,17[' ]| mutual satisfaction till supper put an end to cards; and 116:084,18[' ]| gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr%*Wickham's 116:084,19[' ]| attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise 116:084,20[' ]| of Mrs%*Philips's supper party, but his manners recommended 116:084,21[' ]| him to every*body. Whatever he said, was said 116:084,22[' ]| well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth 116:084,23[' ]| went away with her head full of him. She could think of 116:084,24[' ]| nothing but of Mr%*Wickham, and of what he had told her, 116:084,25[' ]| all the way home; but there was not time for her even 116:084,26[' ]| to mention his name as they went, for neither Lydia nor 116:084,27[' ]| Mr%*Collins were once silent. Lydia talked incessantly of 116:084,28[' ]| lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the fish she had 116:084,29[' ]| won, Mr%*Collins, in describing the civility of Mr% and 116:084,30[' ]| Mrs%*Philips, protesting that he did not in the least regard 116:084,31[' ]| his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, 116:084,32[' ]| and repeatedly fearing that he crouded his cousins, had 116:084,33[' ]| more to say than he could well manage before the carriage 116:084,34[' ]| stopped at Longbourn*House. 117:085,01[' ]| Elizabeth related to Jane the next day, what had 117:085,02[' ]| passed between Mr%*Wickham and herself. Jane listened 117:085,03[' ]| with astonishment and concern; ~~ she knew not how to 117:085,04[' ]| believe that Mr%*Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr%*Bingley's 117:085,05[' ]| regard; and yet, it was not in her nature to 117:085,06[' ]| question the veracity of a young man of such amiable 117:085,07[' ]| appearance as Wickham. ~~ The possibility of his having 117:085,08[' ]| really endured such unkindness, was enough to interest 117:085,09[' ]| all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained 117:085,10[' ]| to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the 117:085,11[' ]| conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident 117:085,12[' ]| or mistake, whatever could not be otherwise explained. 117:085,13[E ]| "They have both," 117:085,13[' ]| said she, 117:085,13[E ]| "been deceived, I dare 117:085,14[E ]| say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. 117:085,15[E ]| Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to 117:085,16[E ]| the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture 117:085,17[E ]| the causes or circumstances which may have alienated 117:085,18[E ]| them, without actual blame on either side." 117:085,19[A ]| "Very true, indeed; ~~ and now, my dear Jane, what 117:085,20[A ]| have you got to say in behalf of the interested people 117:085,21[A ]| who have probably been concerned in the business? ~~ 117:085,22[A ]| Do clear \them\ too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of 117:085,23[A ]| somebody." 117:085,24[E ]| "Laugh as much as you chuse, but you will not laugh 117:085,25[E ]| me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider 117:085,26[E ]| in what a disgraceful light it places Mr%*Darcy, to be 117:085,27[E ]| treating his father's favourite in such a manner, ~~ one, 117:085,28[E ]| whom his father had promised to provide for. ~~ It is impossible. 117:085,29[E ]| No man of common humanity, no man who had 117:085,30[E ]| any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can 117:085,31[E ]| his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in 117:085,32[E ]| him? oh! no." 117:085,33[A ]| "I can much more easily believe Mr%*Bingley's being 117:086,01[A ]| imposed on, than that Mr%*Wickham should invent such 117:086,02[A ]| a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, 117:086,03[A ]| facts, every*thing mentioned without ceremony. ~~ If it be 117:086,04[A ]| not so, let Mr%*Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was 117:086,05[A ]| truth in his looks." 117:086,06[E ]| "It is difficult indeed ~~ it is distressing. ~~ One does not 117:086,07[E ]| know what to think." 117:086,08[A ]| "I beg your pardon; ~~ one knows exactly what to 117:086,09[A ]| think." 117:086,10[' ]| But Jane could think with certainty on only one 117:086,11[' ]| point, ~~ that Mr%*Bingley, if he \had\ \been\ imposed on, 117:086,12[' ]| would have much to suffer when the affair became public. 117:086,13[' ]| The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery 117:086,14[' ]| where this conversation passed, by the arrival of 117:086,15[' ]| some of the very persons of whom they had been speaking; 117:086,16[' ]| Mr%*Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal 117:086,17[' ]| invitation for the long expected ball at Netherfield, which 117:086,18[' ]| was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were 117:086,19@y | delighted to see their dear friend again, 117:086,19[' ]| called it 117:086,19@y | an age 117:086,20@y | since they had met, 117:086,20[' ]| and repeatedly asked 117:086,20@y | what she had 117:086,21@y | been doing with herself since their separation. 117:086,21[' ]| To the rest 117:086,22[' ]| of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs%*Bennet 117:086,23[' ]| as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, 117:086,24[' ]| and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone 117:086,25[' ]| again, rising from their seats with an activity which took 117:086,26[' ]| their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager 117:086,27[' ]| to escape from Mrs%*Bennet's civilities. 117:086,28[' ]| The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely 117:086,29[' ]| agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs%*Bennet 117:086,30[' ]| chose to consider it as given in compliment to her eldest 117:086,31[' ]| daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the 117:086,32[' ]| invitation from Mr%*Bingley himself, instead of a ceremonious 117:086,33[' ]| card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening 117:086,34[' ]| in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of their 117:086,35[' ]| brother; and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing 117:086,36[' ]| a great deal with Mr%*Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation 117:086,37[' ]| of every*thing in Mr%*Darcy's looks and behaviour. 117:086,38[' ]| The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia, 117:087,01[' ]| depended less on any single event, or any particular 117:087,02[' ]| person, for though they each, like Elizabeth, meant to 117:087,03[' ]| dance half the evening with Mr%*Wickham, he was by no 117:087,04[' ]| means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball 117:087,05[' ]| was at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her 117:087,06[' ]| family that she had no disinclination for it. 117:087,07[F ]| "While I can have my mornings to myself," 117:087,07[' ]| said she, 117:087,08[F ]| "it is enough. ~~ I think it no sacrifice to join occasionally 117:087,09[F ]| in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; 117:087,10[F ]| and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals 117:087,11[F ]| of recreation and amusement as desirable for every*body." 117:087,12[' ]| Elizabeth's spirits were so high on the occasion, that 117:087,13[' ]| though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr%*Collins, 117:087,14[' ]| she could not help asking him whether he intended to 117:087,15[' ]| accept Mr%*Bingley's invitation, and if he did, whether 117:087,16[' ]| he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement; 117:087,17[' ]| and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained 117:087,18[' ]| no scruple whatever on that head, and was very 117:087,19[' ]| far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, 117:087,20[' ]| or Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh, by venturing to dance. 117:087,21[K ]| "I am by no means of opinion, I assure you," 117:087,21[' ]| said he, 117:087,22[K ]| "that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, 117:087,23[K ]| to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; 117:087,24[K ]| and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself that 117:087,25[K ]| I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair 117:087,26[K ]| cousins in the course of the evening, and I take this opportunity 117:087,27[K ]| of soliciting yours, Miss*Elizabeth, for the two first 117:087,28[K ]| dances especially, ~~ a preference which I trust my cousin 117:087,29[K ]| Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any 117:087,30[K ]| disrespect for her." 117:087,31[' ]| Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had 117:087,32[' ]| fully proposed being engaged by Wickham for those 117:087,33[' ]| very dances: ~~ and to have Mr%*Collins instead! her liveliness 117:087,34[' ]| had been never worse timed. There was no help for 117:087,35[' ]| it however. Mr%*Wickham's happiness and her own was 117:087,36[' ]| per*force delayed a little longer, and Mr%*Collins's proposal 117:087,37[' ]| accepted with as good a grace as she could. She was not 117:087,38[' ]| the better pleased with his gallantry, from the idea it 117:088,01[' ]| suggested of something more. ~~ It now first struck her, 117:088,02[' ]| that 117:088,02@a | \she\ was selected from among her sisters as worthy 117:088,03@a | of being the mistress of Hunsford*Parsonage, and of 117:088,04@a | assisting to form a quadrille*table at Rosings, in the 117:088,05@a | absence of more eligible visitors. 117:088,05[' ]| The idea soon reached 117:088,06[' ]| to conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities 117:088,07[' ]| toward herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment 117:088,08[' ]| on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished 117:088,09[' ]| than gratified herself, by this effect of her charms, 117:088,10[' ]| it was not long before her mother gave her to understand 117:088,11[' ]| that the probability of their marriage was exceedingly 117:088,12[' ]| agreeable to \her\. Elizabeth however did not chuse to take 117:088,13[' ]| the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be 117:088,14[' ]| the consequence of any reply. 117:088,14@a | Mr%*Collins might never 117:088,15@a | make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel 117:088,16@a | about him. 117:088,17[' ]| If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for 117:088,18[' ]| and talk of, the younger Miss*Bennets would have been 117:088,19[' ]| in a pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the 117:088,20[' ]| invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a succession 117:088,21[' ]| of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. 117:088,22[' ]| No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after; ~~ the 117:088,23[' ]| very shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even 117:088,24[' ]| Elizabeth might have found some trial of her patience 117:088,25[' ]| in weather, which totally suspended the improvement of 117:088,26[' ]| her acquaintance with Mr%*Wickham; and nothing less 117:088,27[' ]| than a dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, 117:088,28[' ]| Saturday, Sunday and Monday, endurable to Kitty and 117:088,29[' ]| Lydia. 118:089,01[' ]| Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield 118:089,02[' ]| and looked in vain for Mr%*Wickham among the cluster 118:089,03[' ]| of red coats there assembled, a doubt of his being present 118:089,04[' ]| had never occurred to her. The certainty of meeting him 118:089,05[' ]| had not been checked by any of those recollections that 118:089,06[' ]| might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had 118:089,07[' ]| dressed with more than usual care, and prepared in the 118:089,08[' ]| highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained 118:089,09[' ]| unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more 118:089,10[' ]| than might be won in the course of the evening. But 118:089,11[' ]| in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being 118:089,12[' ]| purposely omitted for Mr%*Darcy's pleasure in the Bingleys' 118:089,13[' ]| invitation to the officers; and though this was not exactly 118:089,14[' ]| the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced 118:089,15[' ]| by his friend Mr%*Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, 118:089,16[' ]| and who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go 118:089,17[' ]| to town on business the day before, and was not yet 118:089,18[' ]| returned; adding, with a significant smile, 118:089,19[W ]| "I do not imagine his business would have called him 118:089,20[W ]| away just now, if he had not wished to avoid a certain 118:089,21[W ]| gentleman here." 118:089,22[' ]| This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, 118:089,23[' ]| was caught by Elizabeth, and as it assured her that Darcy 118:089,24[' ]| was not less answerable for Wickham's absence than if her 118:089,25[' ]| first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure 118:089,26[' ]| against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, 118:089,27[' ]| that she could hardly reply with tolerable 118:089,28[' ]| civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards 118:089,29[' ]| approached to make. ~~ 118:089,29@a | Attention, forbearance, patience 118:089,30@a | with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. 118:089,30[' ]| She was resolved 118:089,31[' ]| against any sort of conversation with him, and turned 118:089,32[' ]| away with a degree of ill*humour, which she could not 118:090,01[' ]| wholly surmount even in speaking to Mr%*Bingley, whose 118:090,02[' ]| blind partiality provoked her. 118:090,03[' ]| But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and 118:090,04[' ]| though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the 118:090,05[' ]| evening, it could not dwell long on her spirits; and 118:090,06[' ]| having told all her griefs to Charlotte*Lucas, whom she 118:090,07[' ]| had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a 118:090,08[' ]| voluntary transition to the oddities of her cousin, and 118:090,09[' ]| to point him out to her particular notice. The two first 118:090,10[' ]| dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were 118:090,11[' ]| dances of mortification. Mr%*Collins, awkward and solemn, 118:090,12[' ]| apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong 118:090,13[' ]| without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and 118:090,14[' ]| misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances 118:090,15[' ]| can give. The moment of her release from him was exstacy. 118:090,16[' ]| She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment 118:090,17[' ]| of talking of Wickham, and of hearing that he was 118:090,18[' ]| universally liked. When those dances were over she 118:090,19[' ]| returned to Charlotte*Lucas, and was in conversation 118:090,20[' ]| with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by 118:090,21[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, who took her so much by surprise in his 118:090,22[' ]| application for her hand, that, without knowing what she 118:090,23[' ]| did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, 118:090,24[' ]| and she was left to fret over her own want of presence 118:090,25[' ]| of mind; Charlotte tried to console her. 118:090,26[Q ]| "I dare say you will find him very agreeable." 118:090,27[A ]| "Heaven forbid! ~~ \That\ would be the greatest misfortune 118:090,28[A ]| of all! ~~ To find a man agreeable whom one is 118:090,29[A ]| determined to hate! ~~ Do not wish me such an evil." 118:090,30[' ]| When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy 118:090,31[' ]| approached to claim her hand, Charlotte could not help 118:090,32[' ]| cautioning her in a whisper 118:090,32@q | not to be a simpleton and 118:090,33@q | allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant 118:090,34@q | in the eyes of a man of ten times his consequence. 118:090,35[' ]| Elizabeth made no answer, and took her place in the set, 118:090,36[' ]| amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being 118:090,37[' ]| allowed to stand opposite to Mr%*Darcy, and reading in her 118:090,38[' ]| neighbours' looks their equal amazement in beholding it. 118:091,01[' ]| They stood for some time without speaking a word; and 118:091,02[' ]| she began to imagine that their silence was to last through 118:091,03[' ]| the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; 118:091,04[' ]| till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment 118:091,05[' ]| to her partner to oblige him to talk, she made some 118:091,06[' ]| slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was 118:091,07[' ]| again silent. After a pause of some minutes she addressed 118:091,08[' ]| him a second time with 118:091,09[A ]| "It is \your\ turn to say something now, Mr%*Darcy. ~~ 118:091,10[A ]| \I\ talked about the dance, and \you\ ought to make some 118:091,11[A ]| kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number 118:091,12[A ]| of couples." 118:091,13[' ]| He smiled, and assured her that 118:091,13@b | whatever she wished 118:091,14@b | him to say should be said. 118:091,15[A ]| "Very well. ~~ That reply will do for the present. ~~ 118:091,16[A ]| Perhaps by*and*bye I may observe that private balls are 118:091,17[A ]| much pleasanter than public ones. ~~ But \now\ we may be 118:091,18[A ]| silent." 118:091,19[B ]| "Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?" 118:091,20[A ]| "Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It 118:091,21[A ]| would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour 118:091,22[A ]| together, and yet for the advantage of \some\, conversation 118:091,23[A ]| ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble 118:091,24[A ]| of saying as little as possible." 118:091,25[B ]| "Are you consulting your own feelings in the present 118:091,26[B ]| case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?" 118:091,27[A ]| "Both," 118:091,27[' ]| replied Elizabeth archly; 118:091,27[A ]| "for I have always 118:091,28[A ]| seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. ~~ We are 118:091,29[A ]| each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to 118:091,30[A ]| speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze 118:091,31[A ]| the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with 118:091,32[A ]| all the eclat of a proverb." 118:091,33[B ]| "This is no very striking resemblance of your own 118:091,34[B ]| character, I am sure," 118:091,34[' ]| said he. 118:091,34[B ]| "How near it may be 118:091,35[B ]| to \mine\, I cannot pretend to say. ~~ \You\ think it a faithful 118:091,36[B ]| portrait undoubtedly." 118:091,37[A ]| "I must not decide on my own performance." 118:091,38[' ]| He made no answer, and they were again silent till they 118:092,01[' ]| had gone down the dance, when he asked her if she and 118:092,02[' ]| her sisters did not very often walk to Meryton. She 118:092,03[' ]| answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the 118:092,04[' ]| temptation, added, 118:092,04[A ]| "When you met us there the other 118:092,05[A ]| day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance." 118:092,06[' ]| The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur 118:092,07[' ]| overspread his features, but he said not a word, and 118:092,08[' ]| Elizabeth, though blaming herself for her own weakness, 118:092,09[' ]| could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained 118:092,10[' ]| manner said, 118:092,11[B ]| "Mr%*Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as 118:092,12[B ]| may ensure his \making\ friends ~~ whether he may be equally 118:092,13[B ]| capable of \retaining\ them, is less certain." 118:092,14[A ]| "He has been so unlucky as to lose \your\ friendship," 118:092,15[' ]| replied Elizabeth with emphasis, 118:092,15[A ]| "and in a manner which 118:092,16[A ]| he is likely to suffer from all his life." 118:092,17[' ]| Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing 118:092,18[' ]| the subject. At that moment Sir*William*Lucas appeared 118:092,19[' ]| close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other 118:092,20[' ]| side of the room; but on perceiving Mr%*Darcy he stopt 118:092,21[' ]| with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on 118:092,22[' ]| his dancing and his partner. 118:092,23[R ]| "I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. 118:092,24[R ]| Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident 118:092,25[R ]| that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, 118:092,26[R ]| however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, 118:092,27[R ]| and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, 118:092,28[R ]| especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss*Eliza, 118:092,29[' ]| (glancing at her sister and Bingley,) 118:092,29[R ]| shall take place. 118:092,30[R ]| What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to 118:092,31[R ]| Mr%*Darcy: ~~ but let me not interrupt you, Sir. ~~ You will 118:092,32[R ]| not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching 118:092,33[R ]| converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also 118:092,34[R ]| upbraiding me." 118:092,35[' ]| The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by 118:092,36[' ]| Darcy; but Sir*William's allusion to his friend seemed to 118:092,37[' ]| strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very 118:092,38[' ]| serious expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were 118:093,01[' ]| dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly, 118:093,02[' ]| he turned to his partner, and said, 118:093,03[B ]| "Sir*William's interruption has made me forget what 118:093,04[B ]| we were talking of." 118:093,05[A ]| "I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir*William 118:093,06[A ]| could not have interrupted any two people in the room 118:093,07[A ]| who had less to say for themselves. ~~ We have tried two 118:093,08[A ]| or three subjects already without success, and what we 118:093,09[A ]| are to talk of next I cannot imagine." 118:093,10[B ]| "What think you of books?" 118:093,10[' ]| said he, smiling. 118:093,11[A ]| "Books ~~ Oh! no. ~~ I am sure we never read the same, 118:093,12[A ]| or not with the same feelings." 118:093,13[B ]| "I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, 118:093,14[B ]| there can at least be no want of subject. ~~ We may 118:093,15[B ]| compare our different opinions." 118:093,16[A ]| "No ~~ I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head 118:093,17[A ]| is always full of something else." 118:093,18[B ]| "The \present\ always occupies you in such scenes ~~ does 118:093,19[B ]| it?" 118:093,19[' ]| said he, with a look of doubt. 118:093,20[A ]| "Yes, always," 118:093,20[' ]| she replied, without knowing what she 118:093,21[' ]| said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, 118:093,22[' ]| as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, 118:093,23[A ]| "I remember hearing you once say, Mr%*Darcy, that you 118:093,24[A ]| hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created 118:093,25[A ]| was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, 118:093,26[A ]| as to its \being\ \created\." 118:093,27[B ]| "I am," 118:093,27[' ]| said he, with a firm voice. 118:093,28[A ]| "And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?" 118:093,29[B ]| "I hope not." 118:093,30[A ]| "It is particularly incumbent on those who never change 118:093,31[A ]| their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first." 118:093,32[B ]| "May I ask to what these questions tend?" 118:093,33[A ]| "Merely to the illustration of \your\ character," 118:093,33[' ]| said she, 118:093,34[' ]| endeavouring to shake off her gravity. 118:093,34[A ]| "I am trying to 118:093,35[A ]| make it out." 118:093,36[B ]| "And what is your success?" 118:093,37[' ]| She shook her head. 118:093,37[A ]| "I do not get on at all. I hear 118:093,38[A ]| such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly." 118:094,01[B ]| "I can readily believe," 118:094,01[' ]| answered he gravely, 118:094,01[B ]| "that 118:094,02[B ]| report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could 118:094,03[B ]| wish, Miss*Bennet, that you were not to sketch my 118:094,04[B ]| character at the present moment, as there is reason to 118:094,05[B ]| fear that the performance would reflect no credit on 118:094,06[B ]| either." 118:094,07[A ]| "But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never 118:094,08[A ]| have another opportunity." 118:094,09[B ]| "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," 118:094,10[' ]| he coldly replied. She said no more, and they went down 118:094,11[' ]| the other dance and parted in silence; on each side 118:094,12[' ]| dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Darcy's 118:094,13[' ]| breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, 118:094,14[' ]| which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger 118:094,15[' ]| against another. 118:094,16[' ]| They had not long separated when Miss*Bingley came 118:094,17[' ]| towards her, and with an expression of civil disdain thus 118:094,18[' ]| accosted her, 118:094,19[J ]| "So, Miss*Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with 118:094,20[J ]| George*Wickham! ~~ Your sister has been talking to me 118:094,21[J ]| about him, and asking me a thousand questions; and 118:094,22[J ]| I find that the young man forgot to tell you, among his 118:094,23[J ]| other communications, that he was the son of old Wickham, 118:094,24[J ]| the late Mr%*Darcy's steward. Let me recommend you, 118:094,25[J ]| however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all 118:094,26[J ]| his assertions; for as to Mr%*Darcy's using him ill, it is 118:094,27[J ]| perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has been always 118:094,28[J ]| remarkably kind to him, though George*Wickham has 118:094,29[J ]| treated Mr%*Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not 118:094,30[J ]| know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr%*Darcy 118:094,31[J ]| is not in the least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear 118:094,32[J ]| George*Wickham mentioned, and that though my brother 118:094,33[J ]| thought he could not well avoid including him in his 118:094,34[J ]| invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find 118:094,35[J ]| that he had taken himself out of the way. His coming 118:094,36[J ]| into the country at all, is a most insolent thing indeed, 118:094,37[J ]| and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, 118:094,38[J ]| Miss*Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite's guilt; 118:095,01[J ]| but really considering his descent, one could not expect 118:095,02[J ]| much better." 118:095,03[A ]| "His guilt and his descent appear by your account to 118:095,04[A ]| be the same," 118:095,04[' ]| said Elizabeth angrily; 118:095,04[A ]| "for I have heard 118:095,05[A ]| you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son 118:095,06[A ]| of Mr%*Darcy's steward, and of \that\, I can assure you, he 118:095,07[A ]| informed me himself." 118:095,08[J ]| "I beg your pardon," 118:095,08[' ]| replied Miss*Bingley, turning 118:095,09[' ]| away with a sneer. 118:095,09[J ]| "Excuse my interference. ~~ It was 118:095,10[J ]| kindly meant." 118:095,11[A ]| "Insolent girl!" 118:095,11[' ]| said Elizabeth to herself. ~~ 118:095,11[A ]| "You are 118:095,12[A ]| much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such 118:095,13[A ]| a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own 118:095,14[A ]| wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr%*Darcy." 118:095,14[' ]| She then 118:095,15[' ]| sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make 118:095,16[' ]| inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her 118:095,17[' ]| with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such 118:095,18[' ]| happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was 118:095,19[' ]| satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. ~~ Elizabeth 118:095,20[' ]| instantly read her feelings, and at that moment solicitude 118:095,21[' ]| for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and every*thing 118:095,22[' ]| else gave way before the hope of Jane's being in the 118:095,23[' ]| fairest way for happiness. 118:095,24[A ]| "I want to know," 118:095,24[' ]| said she, with a countenance no 118:095,25[' ]| less smiling than her sister's, 118:095,25[A ]| "what you have learnt 118:095,26[A ]| about Mr%*Wickham. But perhaps you have been too 118:095,27[A ]| pleasantly engaged to think of any third person; in which 118:095,28[A ]| case you may be sure of my pardon." 118:095,29[E ]| "No," 118:095,29[' ]| replied Jane, 118:095,29[E ]| "I have not forgotten him; but 118:095,30[E ]| I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Mr%*Bingley does 118:095,31[E ]| not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant 118:095,32[E ]| of the circumstances which have principally offended 118:095,33[E ]| Mr%*Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct, the 118:095,34[E ]| probity and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced 118:095,35[E ]| that Mr%*Wickham has deserved much less attention from 118:095,36[E ]| Mr%*Darcy than he has received; and I am sorry to say 118:095,37[E ]| that by his account as well as his sister's, Mr%*Wickham 118:095,38[E ]| is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid 118:096,01[E ]| he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose 118:096,02[E ]| Mr%*Darcy's regard." 118:096,03[A ]| "Mr%*Bingley does not know Mr%*Wickham himself?" 118:096,04[E ]| "No; he never saw him till the other morning at 118:096,05[E ]| Meryton." 118:096,06[A ]| "This account then is what he has received from 118:096,07[A ]| Mr%*Darcy. I am perfectly satisfied. But what does he 118:096,08[A ]| say of the living?" 118:096,09[E ]| "He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, 118:096,10[E ]| though he has heard them from Mr%*Darcy more than 118:096,11[E ]| once, but he believes that it was left to him \conditionally\ 118:096,12[E ]| only." 118:096,13[A ]| "I have not a doubt of Mr%*Bingley's sincerity," 118:096,13[' ]| said 118:096,14[' ]| Elizabeth warmly; 118:096,14[A ]| "but you must excuse my not being 118:096,15[A ]| convinced by assurances only. Mr%*Bingley's defence of 118:096,16[A ]| his friend was a very able one I dare say, but since he 118:096,17[A ]| is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has 118:096,18[A ]| learnt the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture 118:096,19[A ]| still to think of both gentlemen as I did before." 118:096,20[' ]| She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying 118:096,21[' ]| to each, and on which there could be no difference of 118:096,22[' ]| sentiment. Elizabeth listened with delight to the happy, 118:096,23[' ]| though modest hopes which Jane entertained of Bingley's 118:096,24[' ]| regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence 118:096,25[' ]| in it. On their being joined by Mr%*Bingley 118:096,26[' ]| himself, Elizabeth withdrew to Miss*Lucas; to whose 118:096,27[' ]| inquiry after the pleasantness of her last partner she had 118:096,28[' ]| scarcely replied, before Mr%*Collins came up to them and 118:096,29[' ]| told her with great exultation that he had just been so 118:096,30[' ]| fortunate as to make a most important discovery. 118:096,31[K ]| "I have found out," 118:096,31[' ]| said he, 118:096,31[K ]| "by a singular accident, 118:096,32[K ]| that there is now in the room a near relation of my 118:096,33[K ]| patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself 118:096,34[K ]| mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of 118:096,35[K ]| this house the names of his cousin Miss*de*Bourgh, and of 118:096,36[K ]| her mother Lady*Catherine. How wonderfully these sort 118:096,37[K ]| of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting 118:096,38[K ]| with ~~ perhaps ~~ a nephew of Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh 118:097,01[K ]| in this assembly! ~~ I am most thankful that the discovery 118:097,02[K ]| is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which 118:097,03[K ]| I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not 118:097,04[K ]| having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection 118:097,05[K ]| must plead my apology." 118:097,06[A ]| "You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr%*Darcy?" 118:097,07[A ]| 118:097,08[K ]| "Indeed I am. I shall intreat his pardon for not 118:097,09[K ]| having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady*Catherine's 118:097,10[K ]| \nephew\. It will be in my power to assure him that her 118:097,11[K ]| ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight." 118:097,12[' ]| Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a 118:097,13[' ]| scheme; assuring him that Mr%*Darcy would consider his 118:097,14[' ]| addressing him without introduction as an impertinent 118:097,15[' ]| freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it 118:097,16[' ]| was not in the least necessary there should be any notice 118:097,17[' ]| on either side, and that if it were, it must belong to 118:097,18[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin the 118:097,19[' ]| acquaintance. ~~ Mr%*Collins listened to her with the determined 118:097,20[' ]| air of following his own inclination, and when she 118:097,21[' ]| ceased speaking, replied thus, 118:097,22[K ]| "My dear Miss*Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion 118:097,23[K ]| in the world of your excellent judgment in all matters 118:097,24[K ]| within the scope of your understanding, but permit me 118:097,25[K ]| to say that there must be a wide difference between the 118:097,26[K ]| established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those 118:097,27[K ]| which regulate the clergy; for give me leave to observe 118:097,28[K ]| that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of 118:097,29[K ]| dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom ~~ provided 118:097,30[K ]| that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time 118:097,31[K ]| maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the 118:097,32[K ]| dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads 118:097,33[K ]| me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon 118:097,34[K ]| me for neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every 118;097,35[K ]| other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the 118:097,36[K ]| case before us I consider myself more fitted by education 118:097,37[K ]| and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young 118:097,38[K ]| lady like yourself." 118:097,38[' ]| And with a low bow he left her to 118:098,01[' ]| attack Mr%*Darcy, whose reception of his advances she 118:098,02[' ]| eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so 118:098,03[' ]| addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his 118:098,04[' ]| speech with a solemn bow, and though she could not hear 118:098,05[' ]| a word of it, she felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the 118:098,06[' ]| motion of his lips the words 118:098,06[K ]| "apology", "Hunsford," and 118:098,07[K ]| "Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh." ~~ 118:098,07[' ]| It vexed her to see him 118:098,08[' ]| expose himself to such a man. Mr%*Darcy was eyeing him 118:098,09[' ]| with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr%*Collins 118:098,10[' ]| allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant 118:098,11[' ]| civility. Mr%*Collins, however, was not discouraged from 118:098,12[' ]| speaking again, and Mr%*Darcy's contempt seemed abundantly 118:098,13[' ]| increasing with the length of his second speech, 118:098,14[' ]| and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, 118:098,15[' ]| and moved another way. Mr%*Collins then returned to 118:098,16[' ]| Elizabeth. 118:098,17[K ]| "I have no reason, I assure you," 118:098,17[' ]| said he, 118:098,17[K ]| "to be 118:098,18[K ]| dissatisfied with my reception. Mr%*Darcy seemed much 118:098,19[K ]| pleased with the attention. He answered me with the 118:098,20[K ]| utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of 118:098,21[K ]| saying, that he was so well convinced of Lady*Catherine's 118:098,22[K ]| discernment as to be certain she could never bestow 118:098,23[K ]| a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome 118:098,24[K ]| thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him." 118:098,25[' ]| As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to 118:098,26[' ]| pursue, she turned her attention almost entirely on her 118:098,27[' ]| sister and Mr%*Bingley, and the train of agreeable reflections 118:098,28[' ]| which her observations gave birth to, made her 118:098,29[' ]| perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea 118:098,30[' ]| settled in that very house in all the felicity which a marriage 118:098,31[' ]| of true affection could bestow; and she felt capable 118:098,32[' ]| under such circumstances, of endeavouring even to like 118:098,33[' ]| Bingley's two sisters. Her mother's thoughts she plainly 118:098,34[' ]| saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to 118:098,35[' ]| venture near her, lest she might hear too much. When they 118:098,36[' ]| sat down to supper, therefore, she considered it a most 118:098,37[' ]| unlucky perverseness which placed them within one of 118:098,38[' ]| each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that her 118:099,01[' ]| mother was talking to that one person (Lady*Lucas) 118:099,02[' ]| freely, openly, and of nothing else but of her expectation 118:099,03[' ]| that Jane would be soon married to Mr%*Bingley. ~~ It was 118:099,04[' ]| an animating subject, and Mrs%*Bennet seemed incapable 118:099,05[' ]| of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. 118:099,06@d | His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and 118:099,07@d | living but three miles from them, 118:099,07[' ]| were the first points 118:099,08[' ]| of self-gratulation; 118:099,08@d | and then it was such a comfort to 118:099,09@d | think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be 118:099,10@d | certain that they must desire the connection as much as 118:099,11@d | she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for 118:099,12@d | her younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly 118:099,13@d | must throw them in the way of other rich men; and 118:099,14@d | lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to 118:099,15@d | consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, 118:099,16@d | that she might not be obliged to go into company more 118:099,17@d | than she liked. 118:099,17[' ]| It was necessary to make this circumstance 118:099,18[' ]| a matter of pleasure, because on such occasions 118:099,19[' ]| it is the etiquette; but no*one was less likely than 118:099,20[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period 118:099,21[' ]| of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that 118:099,22[' ]| Lady*Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though 118:099,23[' ]| evidently and triumphantly believing there was no chance 118:099,24[' ]| of it. 118:099,25[' ]| In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity 118:099,26[' ]| of her mother's words, or persuade her to describe her 118:099,27[' ]| felicity in a less audible whisper; for to her inexpressible 118:099,28[' ]| vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it 118:099,29[' ]| was overheard by Mr%*Darcy, who sat opposite to them. 118:099,30[' ]| Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical. 118:099,31[D ]| "What is Mr%*Darcy to me, pray, that I should be 118:099,32[D ]| afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular 118:099,33[D ]| civility as to be obliged to say nothing \he\ may not like 118:099,34[D ]| to hear." 118:099,35[A ]| "For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. ~~ What 118:099,36[A ]| advantage can it be to you to offend Mr%*Darcy? ~~ You 118:099,37[A ]| will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing." 118:099,38[' ]| Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. 118:100,01[' ]| Her mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible 118:100,02[' ]| tone. Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame 118:100,03[' ]| and vexation. She could not help frequently glancing her 118:100,04[' ]| eye at Mr%*Darcy, though every glance convinced her of 118:100,05[' ]| what she dreaded; for though he was not always looking 118:100,06[' ]| at her mother, she was convinced that his attention was 118:100,07[' ]| invariably fixed by her. The expression of his face changed 118:100,08[' ]| gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and 118:100,09[' ]| steady gravity. 118:100,10[' ]| At length however Mrs%*Bennet had no more to say; 118:100,11[' ]| and Lady*Lucas, who had been long yawning at the 118:100,12[' ]| repetition of delights which she saw no likelihood of 118:100,13[' ]| sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken. 118:100,14[' ]| Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the 118:100,15[' ]| interval of tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing 118:100,16[' ]| was talked of, and she had the mortification of seeing 118:100,17[' ]| Mary, after very little entreaty, preparing to oblige the 118:100,18[' ]| company. By many significant looks and silent entreaties, 118:100,19[' ]| did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance, 118:100,20[' ]| ~~ but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such 118:100,21[' ]| an opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and 118:100,22[' ]| she began her song. Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on her 118:100,23[' ]| with most painful sensations; and she watched her progress 118:100,24[' ]| through the several stanzas with an impatience which was 118:100,25[' ]| very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving 118:100,26[' ]| amongst the thanks of the table, the hint of a hope that 118:100,27[' ]| she might be prevailed on to favour them again, after the 118:100,28[' ]| pause of half a minute began another. Mary's powers 118:100,29[' ]| were by no means fitted for such a display; her voice 118:100,30[' ]| was weak, and her manner affected. ~~ Elizabeth was in 118:100,31[' ]| agonies. She looked at Jane, to see how she bore it; but 118:100,32[' ]| Jane was very composedly talking to Bingley. She looked 118:100,33[' ]| at his two sisters, and saw them making signs of derision 118:100,34[' ]| at each other, and at Darcy, who continued however 118:100,35[' ]| impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat 118:100,36[' ]| his interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. 118:100,37[' ]| He took the hint, and when Mary had finished her second 118:100,38[' ]| song, said aloud, 118:101,01[C ]| "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted 118:101,02[C ]| us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time 118:101,03[C ]| to exhibit." 118:101,04[' ]| Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat 118:101,05[' ]| disconcerted; and Elizabeth sorry for her, and sorry for 118:101,06[' ]| her father's speech, was afraid her anxiety had done no 118:101,07[' ]| good. ~~ Others of the party were now applied to. 118:101,08[K ]| "If I," 118:101,08[' ]| said Mr%*Collins, 118:101,08[K ]| "were so fortunate as to be 118:101,09[K ]| able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in 118:101,10[K ]| obliging the company with an air; for I consider music 118:101,11[K ]| as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible 118:101,12[K ]| with the profession of a clergyman. ~~ I do not mean however 118:101,13[K ]| to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much 118:101,14[K ]| of our time to music, for there are certainly other things 118:101,15[K ]| to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. ~~ 118:101,16[K ]| In the first place, he must make such an agreement for 118:101,17[K ]| tythes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive 118:101,18[K ]| to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the 118:101,19[K ]| time that remains will not be too much for his parish 118:101,20[K ]| duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, 118:101,21[K ]| which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable 118:101,22[K ]| as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that 118:101,23[K ]| he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards 118:101,24[K ]| every*body, especially towards those to whom he owes 118:101,25[K ]| his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor 118:101,26[K ]| could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion 118:101,27[K ]| of testifying his respect towards any*body connected with 118:101,28[K ]| the family." 118:101,28[' ]| And with a bow to Mr%*Darcy, he concluded 118:101,29[' ]| his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard 118:101,30[' ]| by half the room. ~~ Many stared. ~~ Many smiled; but no*one 118:101,31[' ]| looked more amused than Mr%*Bennet himself, while 118:101,32[' ]| his wife seriously commended Mr%*Collins for having spoken 118:101,33[' ]| so sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to Lady*Lucas, 118:101,34[' ]| that 118:101,34@d | he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man. 118:101,35[' ]| To Elizabeth it appeared, that 118:101,35@a | had her family made 118:101,36@a | an agreement to expose themselves as much as they 118:101,37@a | could during the evening, it would have been impossible 118:101,38@a | for them to play their parts with more spirit, or finer 118:102,01@a | success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her 118:102,02@a | sister that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, 118:102,03@a | and that his feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed 118:102,04@a | by the folly which he must have witnessed. That 118:102,05@a | his two sisters and Mr%*Darcy, however, should have such 118:102,06@a | an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough, 118:102,07@a | and she could not determine whether the silent contempt 118:102,08@a | of the gentleman, or the insolent smiles of the ladies, were 118:102,09@a | more intolerable. 118:102,10[' ]| The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. 118:102,11[' ]| She was teazed by Mr%*Collins, who continued most perseveringly 118:102,12[' ]| by her side, and though he could not prevail 118:102,13[' ]| with her to dance with him again, put it out of her power 118:102,14[' ]| to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand 118:102,15[' ]| up with somebody else, and offer to introduce him to any 118:102,16[' ]| young lady in the room. He assured her that 118:102,16@k | as to dancing, 118:102,17@k | he was perfectly indifferent to it; that his chief object 118:102,18@k | was by delicate attentions to recommend himself to her, 118:102,19@k | and that he should therefore make a point of remaining 118:102,20@k | close to her the whole evening. 118:102,20[' ]| There was no arguing 118:102,21[' ]| upon such a project. She owed her greatest relief to her 118:102,22[' ]| friend Miss*Lucas, who often joined them, and good-naturedly 118:102,23[' ]| engaged Mr%*Collins's conversation to herself. 118:102,24[' ]| She was at least free from the offence of Mr%*Darcy's 118:102,25[' ]| farther notice; though often standing within a very short 118:102,26[' ]| distance of her, quite disengaged, he never came near 118:102,27[' ]| enough to speak. She felt it to be the probable consequence 118:102,28[' ]| of her allusions to Mr%*Wickham, and rejoiced in it. 118:102,29[' ]| The Longbourn party were the last of all the company 118:102,30[' ]| to depart; and by a mano*euvre of Mrs%*Bennet had to 118:102,31[' ]| wait for their carriages a quarter of an hour after every*body 118:102,32[' ]| else was gone, which gave them time to see how 118:102,33[' ]| heartily they were wished away by some of the family. 118:102,34[' ]| Mrs%*Hurst and her sister scarcely opened their mouths 118:102,35[' ]| except to complain of fatigue, and were evidently impatient 118:102,36[' ]| to have the house to themselves. They repulsed every 118:102,37[' ]| attempt of Mrs%*Bennet at conversation, and by so doing, 118:102,38[' ]| threw a languor over the whole party, which was very 118:103,01[' ]| little relieved by the long speeches of Mr%*Collins, who was 118:103,02[' ]| complimenting Mr%*Bingley and his sisters on the elegance 118:103,03[' ]| of their entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness 118:103,04[' ]| which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy 118:103,05[' ]| said nothing at all. Mr%*Bennet, in equal silence, was 118:103,06[' ]| enjoying the scene. Mr%*Bingley and Jane were standing 118:103,07[' ]| together, a little detached from the rest, and talked only 118:103,08[' ]| to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a silence as 118:103,09[' ]| either Mrs%*Hurst or Miss*Bingley; and even Lydia was 118:103,10[' ]| too much fatigued to utter more than the occasional 118:103,11[' ]| exclamation of 118:103,11[H ]| "Lord, how tired I am!" 118:103,11[' ]| accompanied 118:103,12[' ]| by a violent yawn. 118:103,13[' ]| When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs%*Bennet 118:103,14[' ]| was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole 118:103,15[' ]| family soon at Longbourn; and addressed herself particularly 118:103,16[' ]| to Mr%*Bingley, to assure him 118:103,16@d | how happy he would 118:103,17@d | make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any 118:103,18@d | time, without the ceremony of a formal invitation. 118:103,18[' ]| Bingley 118:103,19[' ]| was all grateful pleasure, and he readily engaged for taking 118:103,20[' ]| the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, after his return 118:103,21[' ]| from London, whither he was obliged to go the next day 118:103,22[' ]| for a short time. 118:103,23[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted the 118:103,24[' ]| house under the delightful persuasion that, allowing for 118:103,25[' ]| the necessary preparations of settlements, new carriages 118:103,26[' ]| and wedding*clothes, she should undoubtedly see her 118:103,27[' ]| daughter settled at Netherfield, in the course of three or 118:103,28[' ]| four months. Of having another daughter married to 118:103,29[' ]| Mr%*Collins, she thought with equal certainty, and with 118:103,30[' ]| considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Elizabeth was 118:103,31[' ]| the least dear to her of all her children; and 118:103,31@d | though the 118:103,32@d | man and the match were quite good enough for \her\, 118:103,33@d | the worth of each was eclipsed by Mr%*Bingley and 118:103,34@d | Netherfield. 119:104,01[' ]| The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. 119:104,02[' ]| Mr%*Collins made his declaration in form. Having resolved 119:104,03[' ]| to do it without loss of time, as his leave of absence 119:104,04[' ]| extended only to the following Saturday, and having no 119:104,05[' ]| feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself 119:104,06[' ]| even at the moment, he set about it in a very orderly 119:104,07[' ]| manner, with all the observances which he supposed a 119:104,08[' ]| regular part of the business. On finding Mrs%*Bennet, 119:104,09[' ]| Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together, soon 119:104,10[' ]| after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words, 119:104,11[K ]| "May I hope, Madam, for your interest with your fair 119:104,12[K ]| daughter Elizabeth, when I solicit for the honour of a 119:104,13[K ]| private audience with her in the course of this morning?" 119:104,14[' ]| Before Elizabeth had time for any*thing but a blush 119:104,15[' ]| of surprise, Mrs%*Bennet instantly answered, 119:104,16[D ]| "Oh dear! ~~ Yes ~~ certainly. ~~ I am sure Lizzy will be 119:104,17[D ]| very happy ~~ I am sure she can have no objection. ~~ Come, 119:104,18[D ]| Kitty, I want you up*stairs." 119:104,18[' ]| And gathering her work 119:104,19[' ]| together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth called 119:104,20[' ]| out, 119:104,21[A ]| "Dear Ma'am, do not go. ~~ I beg you will not go. ~~ 119:104,22[A ]| Mr%*Collins must excuse me. ~~ He can have nothing to 119:104,23[A ]| say to me that any*body need not hear. I am going away 119:104,24[A ]| myself." 119:104,25[D ]| "No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. ~~ I desire you will stay 119:104,26[D ]| where you are." ~~ 119:104,26[' ]| And upon Elizabeth's seeming really, 119:104,27[' ]| with vexed and embarrassed looks, about to escape, she 119:104,28[' ]| added, 119:104,28[D ]| "Lizzy, I \insist\ upon your staying and hearing 119:104,29[D ]| Mr%*Collins." 119:104,30[' ]| Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction ~~ and 119:104,31[' ]| a moment's consideration making her also sensible that 119:104,32@a | it would be wisest to get it over as soon and as quietly 119:104,33@a | as possible, 119:104,33[' ]| she sat down again, and tried to conceal by 119:105,01[' ]| incessant employment the feelings which were divided 119:105,02[' ]| between distress and diversion. Mrs%*Bennet and Kitty 119:105,03[' ]| walked off, and as soon as they were gone Mr%*Collins 119:105,04[' ]| began. 119:105,05[K ]| "Believe me, my dear Miss*Elizabeth, that your 119:105,06[K ]| modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather 119:105,07[K ]| adds to your other perfections. You would have been 119:105,08[K ]| less amiable in my eyes had there \not\ been this little 119:105,09[K ]| unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have 119:105,10[K ]| your respected mother's permission for this address. 119:105,11[K ]| You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, 119:105,12[K ]| however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; 119:105,13[K ]| my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. 119:105,14[K ]| Almost as soon as I entered the house I singled you out 119:105,15[K ]| as the companion of my future life. But before I am run 119:105,16[K ]| away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will 119:105,17[K ]| be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying ~~ 119:105,18[K ]| and moreover for coming into Hertfordshire with the 119:105,19[K ]| design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did." 119:105,20[' ]| The idea of Mr%*Collins, with all his solemn composure, 119:105,21[' ]| being run away with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so 119:105,22[' ]| near laughing that she could not use the short pause he 119:105,23[' ]| allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and he continued: 119:105,24[' ]| 119:105,25[K ]| "My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it 119:105,26[K ]| a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances 119:105,27[K ]| (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his 119:105,28[K ]| parish. Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very 119:105,29[K ]| greatly to my happiness; and thirdly ~~ which perhaps 119:105,30[K ]| I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular 119:105,31[K ]| advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom 119:105,32[K ]| I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she 119:105,33[K ]| condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on 119:105,34[K ]| this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night 119:105,35[K ]| before I left Hunsford ~~ between our pools at quadrille, 119:105,36[K ]| while Mrs%*Jenkinson was arranging Miss*de*Bourgh's 119:105,37[K ]| foot-stool, that she said, 119:105,37@l | ""Mr%*Collins, you must marry. 119:105,38@l | A clergyman like you must marry. ~~ Chuse properly, chuse 119:106,01@l | a gentlewoman for \my\ sake; and for your \own\, let her 119:106,02@l | be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, 119:106,03@l | but able to make a small income go a good way. This is 119:106,04@l | my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring 119:106,05@l | her to Hunsford, and I will visit her."" 119:106,05[K ]| Allow me, by the 119:106,06[K ]| way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon 119:106,07[K ]| the notice and kindness of Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh 119:106,08[K ]| as among the least of the advantages in my power to 119:106,09[K ]| offer. You will find her manners beyond any*thing I can 119:106,10[K ]| describe; and your wit and vivacity I think must be 119:106,11[K ]| acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the 119:106,12[K ]| silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. 119:106,13[K ]| Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; 119:106,14[K ]| it remains to be told why my views were directed 119:106,15[K ]| to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where 119:106,16[K ]| I assure you there are many amiable young women. 119:106,17[K ]| But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate 119:106,18[K ]| after the death of your honoured father, (who, however, 119:106,19[K ]| may live many years longer,) I could not satisfy myself 119:106,20[K ]| without resolving to chuse a wife from among his daughters, 119:106,21[K ]| that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when 119:106,22[K ]| the melancholy event takes place ~~ which, however, as 119:106,23[K ]| I have already said, may not be for several years. This 119:106,24[K ]| has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself 119:106,25[K ]| it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing 119:106,26[K ]| remains for me but to assure you in the most animated 119:106,27[K ]| language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am 119:106,28[K ]| perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that 119:106,29[K ]| nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could 119:106,30[K ]| not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds 119:106,31[K ]| in the 4*per*cents% which will not be yours till after your 119:106,32[K ]| mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. 119:106,33[K ]| On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and 119:106,34[K ]| you may assure youself that no ungenerous reproach 119:106,35[K ]| shall ever pass my lips when we are married." 119:106,36[' ]| It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. 119:106,37[A ]| "You are too hasty, Sir," 119:106,37[' ]| she cried. 119:106,37[A ]| "You forget that 119:106,38[A ]| I have made no answer. Let me do it without farther 119:107,01[A ]| loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you 119:107,02[A ]| are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your 119:107,03[A ]| proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise 119:107,04[A ]| than decline them." 119:107,05[K ]| "I am not now to learn," 119:107,05[' ]| replied Mr%*Collins, with 119:107,06[' ]| a formal wave of the hand, 119:107,06[K ]| "that it is usual with young 119:107,07[K ]| ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they 119:107,08[K ]| secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their 119:107,09[K ]| favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a 119:107,10[K ]| second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means 119:107,11[K ]| discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope 119:107,12[K ]| to lead you to the altar ere long." 119:107,13[A ]| "Upon my word, Sir," 119:107,13[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 119:107,13[A ]| "your hope is 119:107,14[A ]| rather an extraordinary one after my declaration. I do 119:107,15[A ]| assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such 119:107,16[A ]| young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their 119:107,17[A ]| happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. 119:107,18[A ]| I am perfectly serious in my refusal. ~~ You could not 119:107,19[A ]| make \me\ happy, and I am convinced that I am the last 119:107,20[A ]| woman in the world who would make \you\ so. ~~ Nay, were 119:107,21[A ]| your friend Lady*Catherine to know me, I am persuaded 119:107,22[A ]| she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the 119:107,23[A ]| situation." 119:107,24[K ]| "Were it certain that Lady*Catherine would think so," 119:107,25[' ]| said Mr%*Collins very gravely ~~ 119:107,25[K ]| "but I cannot imagine 119:107,26[K ]| that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And 119:107,27[K ]| you may be certain that when I have the honour of seeing 119:107,28[K ]| her again I shall speak in the highest terms of your 119:107,29[K ]| modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications." 119:107,30[A ]| "Indeed, Mr%*Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. 119:107,31[A ]| You must give me leave to judge for myself, and 119:107,32[A ]| pay me the compliment of believing what I say. I wish 119:107,33[A ]| you very happy and very rich, and by refusing your hand, 119:107,34[A ]| do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. In 119:107,35[A ]| making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy 119:107,36[A ]| of your feelings with regard to my family, and may take 119:107,37[A ]| possession of Longbourn estate whenever it falls, without 119:107,38[A ]| any self-reproach. This matter may be considered, therefore, 119:108,01[A ]| as finally settled." 119:108,01[' ]| And rising as she thus spoke, she 119:108,02[' ]| would have quitted the room, had not Mr%*Collins thus 119:108,03[' ]| addressed her, 119:108,04[K ]| "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you 119:108,05[K ]| next on this subject I shall hope to receive a more favourable 119:108,06[K ]| answer than you have now given me; though I am 119:108,07[K ]| far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because 119:108,08[K ]| I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject 119:108,09[K ]| a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even 119:108,10[K ]| now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent 119:108,11[K ]| with the true delicacy of the female character." 119:108,12[A ]| "Really, Mr%*Collins," 119:108,12[' ]| cried Elizabeth with some 119:108,13[' ]| warmth, 119:108,13[A ]| "you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have 119:108,14[A ]| hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, 119:108,15[A ]| I know not how to express my refusal in such a way 119:108,16[A ]| as may convince you of its being one." 119:108,17[K ]| "You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear 119:108,18[K ]| cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely 119:108,19[K ]| words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly 119:108,20[K ]| these: ~~ It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy 119:108,21[K ]| your acceptance, or that the establishment I can 119:108,22[K ]| offer would be any other than highly desirable. My 119:108,23[K ]| situation in life, my connections with the family of 119:108,24[K ]| De*Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances 119:108,25[K ]| highly in my favour; and you should take 119:108,26[K ]| it into farther consideration that in spite of your manifold 119:108,27[K ]| attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer 119:108,28[K ]| of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is 119:108,29[K ]| unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the 119:108,30[K ]| effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As 119:108,31[K ]| I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your 119:108,32[K ]| rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish 119:108,33[K ]| of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual 119:108,34[K ]| practice of elegant females." 119:108,35[A ]| "I do assure you, Sir, that I have no pretension 119:108,36[A ]| whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in 119:108,37[A ]| tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid 119:109,01[A ]| the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you 119:109,02[A ]| again and again for the honour you have done me in 119:109,03[A ]| your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. 119:109,04[A ]| My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can 119:109,05[A ]| I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant 119:109,06[A ]| female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature 119:109,07[A ]| speaking the truth from her heart." 119:109,09[K ]| "You are uniformly charming!" 119:109,09[' ]| cried he, with an air 119:109,10[' ]| of awkward gallantry; 119:109,10[K ]| "and I am persuaded that when 119:109,11[K ]| sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent 119:109,12[K ]| parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable." 119:109,13[' ]| To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth 119:109,14[' ]| would make no reply, and immediately and in silence 119:109,15[' ]| withdrew; determined, if he persisted in considering her 119:109,16[' ]| repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply 119:109,17[' ]| to her father, whose negative might be uttered in such 119:109,18[' ]| a manner as must be decisive, and whose behaviour 119:109,19[' ]| at least could not be mistaken for the affectation and 119:109,20[' ]| coquetry of an elegant female. 120:110,01[' ]| Mr%*Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation 120:110,02[' ]| of his successful love; for Mrs%*Bennet, having dawdled 120:110,03[' ]| about in the vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, 120:110,04[' ]| no sooner saw Elizabeth open the door and with 120:110,05[' ]| quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she entered 120:110,06[' ]| the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself 120:110,07[' ]| in warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer 120:110,08[' ]| connection. Mr%*Collins received and returned these 120:110,09[' ]| felicitations with equal pleasure, and then proceeded to 120:110,10[' ]| relate the particulars of their interview, with the result 120:110,11[' ]| of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, 120:110,12[' ]| since the refusal which his cousin had stedfastly given 120:110,13[' ]| him would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and 120:110,14[' ]| the genuine delicacy of her character. 120:110,15[' ]| This information, however, startled Mrs%*Bennet; ~~ 120:110,16[' ]| she would have been glad to be equally satisfied that her 120:110,17[' ]| daughter had meant to encourage him by protesting 120:110,18[' ]| against his proposals, but she dared not to believe it, and 120:110,19[' ]| could not help saying so. 120:110,20[D ]| "But depend upon it, Mr%*Collins," 120:110,20[' ]| she added, 120:110,20[D ]| "that 120:110,21[D ]| Lizzy shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her 120:110,22[D ]| about it myself directly. She is a very headstrong foolish 120:110,23[D ]| girl, and does not know her own interest; but I will 120:110,24[D ]| \make\ her know it." 120:110,25[K ]| "Pardon me for interrupting you, Madam," 120:110,25[' ]| cried 120:110,26[' ]| Mr%*Collins; 120:110,26[K ]| "but if she is really headstrong and foolish, 120:110,27[K ]| I know not whether she would altogether be a very 120:110,28[K ]| desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally 120:110,29[K ]| looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore 120:110,30[K ]| she actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were 120:110,31[K ]| better not to force her into accepting me, because if liable 120:110,32[K ]| to such defects of temper, she could not contribute much 120:110,33[K ]| to my felicity." 120:111,01[D ]| "Sir, you quite misunderstand me," 120:111,01[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet, 120:111,02[' ]| alarmed. 120:111,02[D ]| "Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as 120:111,03[D ]| these. In every*thing else she is as good*natured a girl 120:111,04[D ]| as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr%*Bennet, and we 120:111,05[D ]| shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure." 120:111,06[' ]| She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying 120:111,07[' ]| instantly to her husband, called out as she entered the 120:111,08[' ]| library, 120:111,09[D ]| "Oh! Mr%*Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we 120:111,10[D ]| are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzy 120:111,11[D ]| marry Mr%*Collins, for she vows she will not have him, 120:111,12[D ]| and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and 120:111,13[D ]| not have \her\." 120:111,14[' ]| Mr%*Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, 120:111,15[' ]| and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which 120:111,16[' ]| was not in the least altered by her communication. 120:111,17[C ]| "I have not the pleasure of understanding you," 120:111,17[' ]| said 120:111,19[' ]| he, when she had finished her speech. 120:111,19[C ]| "Of what are you 120:111,19[C ]| talking?" 120:111,20[D ]| "Of Mr%*Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not 120:111,21[D ]| have Mr%*Collins, and Mr%*Collins begins to say that he 120:111,22[D ]| will not have Lizzy." 120:111,23[C ]| "And what am I to do on the occasion? ~~ It seems an 120:111,24[C ]| hopeless business." 120:111,25[D ]| "Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you 120:111,26[D ]| insist upon her marrying him." 120:111,27[C ]| "Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion." 120:111,28[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet rang the bell, and Miss*Elizabeth was 120:111,29[' ]| summoned to the library. 120:111,30[C ]| "Come here, child," 120:111,30[' ]| cried her father as she appeared. 120:111,31[C ]| "I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand 120:111,32[C ]| that Mr%*Collins has made you an offer of marriage. 120:111,33[C ]| Is it true?" 120:111,33[' ]| Elizabeth replied that it was. 120:111,33[C ]| "Very well ~~ 120:111,34[C ]| and this offer of marriage you have refused?" 120:111,35[A ]| "I have, Sir." 120:111,36[C ]| "Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother 120:111,37[C ]| insists upon your accepting it. Is not it so, Mrs%*Bennet?" 120:111,38[D ]| "Yes, or I will never see her again." 120:112,01[C ]| "An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. 120:112,02[C ]| From this day you must be a stranger to one of your 120:112,03[C ]| parents. ~~ Your mother will never see you again if you 120:112,04[C ]| do \not\ marry Mr%*Collins, and I will never see you again 120:112,05[C ]| if you \do\." 120:112,06[' ]| Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of 120:112,07[' ]| such a beginning; but Mrs%*Bennet, who had persuaded 120:112,08[' ]| herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, 120:112,09[' ]| was excessively disappointed. 120:112,10[D ]| "What do you mean, Mr%*Bennet, by talking in this 120:112,11[D ]| way? You promised me to \insist\ upon her marrying him." 120:112,12[C ]| "My dear," 120:112,12[' ]| replied her husband, 120:112,12[C ]| "I have two small 120:112,13[C ]| favours to request. First, that you will allow me the free 120:112,14[C ]| use of my understanding on the present occasion; and 120:112,15[C ]| secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library 120:112,16[C ]| to myself as soon as may be." 120:112,17[' ]| Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her 120:112,18[' ]| husband, did Mrs%*Bennet give up the point. She talked 120:112,19[' ]| to Elizabeth again and again; coaxed and threatened her 120:112,20[' ]| by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane in her interest, 120:112,21[' ]| but Jane with all possible mildness declined interfering; ~~ 120:112,22[' ]| and Elizabeth sometimes with real earnestness and sometimes 120:112,23[' ]| with playful gaiety replied to her attacks. Though 120:112,24[' ]| her manner varied however, her determination never did. 120:112,25[' ]| Mr%*Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on 120:112,26[' ]| what had passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend 120:112,27[' ]| on what motive his cousin could refuse him; and 120:112,28[' ]| though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other way. 120:112,29[' ]| His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility 120:112,30[' ]| of her deserving her mother's reproach prevented his 120:112,31[' ]| feeling any regret. 120:112,32[' ]| While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte*Lucas 120:112,33[' ]| came to spend the day with them. She was met 120:112,34[' ]| in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to her, cried in a 120:112,35[' ]| half whisper, 120:112,35[H ]| "I am glad you are come, for there is such 120:112,36[H ]| fun here! ~~ What do you think has happened this morning? 120:112,37[H ]| ~~ Mr%*Collins has made an offer to Lizzy, and she will 120:112,38[H ]| not have him." 120:113,01[' ]| Charlotte had hardly time to answer, before they were 120:113,02[' ]| joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same news, and no 120:113,03[' ]| sooner had they entered the breakfast-room, where Mrs%*Bennet 120:113,04[' ]| was alone, than she likewise began on the subject, 120:113,05[' ]| calling on Miss*Lucas for her compassion, and entreating 120:113,06[' ]| her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes 120:113,07[' ]| of all her family. 120:113,07[D ]| "Pray do, my dear Miss*Lucas," 120:113,07[' ]| she 120:113,08[' ]| added in a melancholy tone, 120:113,08[D ]| "for nobody is on my side, 120:113,09[D ]| nobody takes part with me, I am cruelly used, nobody 120:113,10[D ]| feels for my poor nerves." 120:113,11[' ]| Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance of Jane 120:113,12[' ]| and Elizabeth. 120:113,13[D ]| "Aye, there she comes," 120:113,13[' ]| continued Mrs%*Bennet, 120:113,14[D ]| "looking as unconcerned as may be, and caring no more 120:113,15[D ]| for us than if we were at York, provided she can have 120:113,16[D ]| her own way. ~~ But I tell you what, Miss*Lizzy, if you 120:113,17[D ]| take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of 120:113,18[D ]| marriage in this way, you will never get a husband at 120:113,19[D ]| all ~~ and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you 120:113,20[D ]| when your father is dead. ~~ \I\ shall not be able to keep 120:113,21[D ]| you ~~ and so I warn you. ~~ I have done with you from 120:113,22[D ]| this very day. ~~ I told you in the library, you know, that 120:113,23[D ]| I should never speak to you again, and you will find me 120:113,24[D ]| as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking to 120:113,25[D ]| undutiful children. ~~ Not that I have much pleasure indeed 120:113,26[D ]| in talking to any*body. People who suffer as I do from 120:113,27[D ]| nervous complaints can have no great inclination for 120:113,28[D ]| talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! ~~ But it is always 120:113,29[D ]| so. Those who do not complain are never pitied." 120:113,30[' ]| Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible 120:113,31[' ]| that any attempt to reason with or sooth her would only 120:113,32[' ]| increase the irritation. She talked on, therefore, without 120:113,33[' ]| interruption from any of them till they were joined by 120:113,34[' ]| Mr%*Collins, who entered with an air more stately than 120:113,35[' ]| usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the the girls, 120:113,36[D ]| "Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold 120:113,37[D ]| your tongues, and let Mr%*Collins and me have a little 120:113,38[D ]| conversation together." 120:114,01[' ]| Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and 120:114,02[' ]| Kitty followed, but Lydia stood her ground, determined 120:114,03[' ]| to hear all she could; and Charlotte, detained first by 120:114,04[' ]| the civility of Mr%*Collins, whose inquiries after herself 120:114,05[' ]| and all her family were very minute, and then by a little 120:114,06[' ]| curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and 120:114,07[' ]| pretending not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs%*Bennet 120:114,08[' ]| thus began the projected conversation. ~~ 120:114,08[D ]| "Oh! Mr%*Collins!" ~~ 120:114,09[D ]| 120:114,10[K ]| "My dear Madam," 120:114,10[' ]| replied he, 120:114,10[K ]| "let us be for*ever 120:114,11[K ]| silent on this point. Far be it from me," 120:114,11[' ]| he presently 120:114,12[' ]| continued in a voice that marked his displeasure, 120:114,12[K ]| "to 120:114,13[K ]| resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation to 120:114,14[K ]| inevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty 120:114,15[K ]| of a young man who has been so fortunate as I have been 120:114,16[K ]| in early preferment; and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps 120:114,17[K ]| not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive happiness 120:114,18[K ]| had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; 120:114,19[K ]| for I have often observed that resignation is never so 120:114,20[K ]| perfect as when the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat 120:114,21[K ]| of its value in our estimation. You will not, I hope, 120:114,22[K ]| consider me as shewing any disrespect to your family, 120:114,23[K ]| my dear Madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to 120:114,24[K ]| your daughter's favour, without having paid yourself and 120:114,25[K ]| Mr%*Bennet the compliment of requesting you to interpose 120:114,26[K ]| your authority in my behalf. My conduct may 120:114,27[K ]| I fear be objectionable in having accepted my dismission 120:114,28[K ]| from your daughter's lips instead of your own. But we 120:114,29[K ]| are all liable to error. I have certainly meant well through 120:114,30[K ]| the whole affair. My object has been to secure an amiable 120:114,31[K ]| companion for myself, with due consideration for the 120:114,32[K ]| advantage of all your family, and if my \manner\ has been 120:114,33[K ]| at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologise." 121:115,01[' ]| The discussion of Mr%*Collins's offer was now nearly at 121:115,02[' ]| an end, and Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable 121:115,03[' ]| feelings necessarily attending it, and occasionally 121:115,04[' ]| from some peevish allusion of her mother. As for the 121:115,05[' ]| gentleman himself, \his\ feelings were chiefly expressed, not 121:115,06[' ]| by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, 121:115,07[' ]| but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He 121:115,08[' ]| scarcely ever spoke to her, and the assiduous attentions 121:115,09[' ]| which he had been so sensible of himself, were transferred 121:115,10[' ]| for the rest of the day to Miss*Lucas, whose civility in 121:115,11[' ]| listening to him, was a seasonable relief to them all, and 121:115,12[' ]| especially to her friend. 121:115,13[' ]| The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs%*Bennet's 121:115,14[' ]| ill*humour or ill*health. Mr%*Collins was also in the 121:115,15[' ]| same state of angry pride. Elizabeth had hoped that his 121:115,16[' ]| resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did not 121:115,17[' ]| appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have 121:115,18[' ]| gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay. 121:115,19[' ]| After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire 121:115,20[' ]| if Mr%*Wickham were returned, and to lament over his 121:115,21[' ]| absence from the Netherfield ball. He joined them on 121:115,22[' ]| their entering the town and attended them to their aunt's, 121:115,23[' ]| where his regret and vexation, and the concern of every*body 121:115,24[' ]| was well talked over. ~~ To Elizabeth, however, he 121:115,25[' ]| voluntarily acknowledged that the necessity of his absence 121:115,26[' ]| \had\ been self*imposed. 121:115,27[P ]| "I found," 121:115,27[' ]| said he, 121:115,27[P ]| "as the time drew near, that I had 121:115,28[P ]| better not meet Mr%*Darcy; ~~ that to be in the same 121:115,29[P ]| room, the same party with him for so many hours together, 121:115,30[P ]| might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might 121:115,31[P ]| arise unpleasant to more than myself." 121:115,32[' ]| She highly approved his forbearance, and they had 121:115,33[' ]| leisure for a full discussion of it, and for all the commendation 121:116,01[' ]| which they civilly bestowed on each other, 121:116,02[' ]| as Wickham and another officer walked back with them 121:116,03[' ]| to Longbourn, and during the walk, he particularly 121:116,04[' ]| attended to her. His accompanying them was a double 121:116,05[' ]| advantage; she felt all the compliment it offered to 121:116,06[' ]| herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of 121:116,07[' ]| introducing him to her father and mother. 121:116,08[' ]| Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss*Bennet; 121:116,09[' ]| it came from Netherfield, and was opened 121:116,10[' ]| immediately. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, 121:116,11[' ]| little, hot*pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, 121:116,12[' ]| flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance 121:116,13[' ]| change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on 121:116,14[' ]| some particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, 121:116,15[' ]| and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual 121:116,16[' ]| cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Elizabeth 121:116,17[' ]| felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention 121:116,18[' ]| even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his 121:116,19[' ]| companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane invited 121:116,20[' ]| her to follow her up*stairs. When they had gained their 121:116,21[' ]| own room, Jane taking out the letter, said, 121:116,22[E ]| "This is from Caroline*Bingley; what it contains, has 121:116,23[E ]| surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left 121:116,24[E ]| Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town; 121:116,25[E ]| and without any intention of coming back again. You 121:116,26[E ]| shall hear what she says." 121:116,27[' ]| She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised 121:116,28[' ]| the information of their having just resolved to follow 121:116,29[' ]| their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to 121:116,30[' ]| dine that day in Grosvenor*street, where Mr%*Hurst had 121:116,31[' ]| a house. The next was in these words. 121:116,31[J ]| "I do not pretend 121:116,32[J ]| to regret any*thing I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except 121:116,33[J ]| your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope at 121:116,34[J ]| some future period, to enjoy many returns of the delightful 121:116,35[J ]| intercourse we have known, and in the mean*while may 121:116,36[J ]| lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most 121:116,37[J ]| unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that." 121:116,38[' ]| To these high*flown expressions, Elizabeth listened with all 121:117,01[' ]| the insensibility of distrust; and though the suddenness 121:117,02[' ]| of their removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really 121:117,03[' ]| to lament; it was not to be supposed that their absence 121:117,04[' ]| from Netherfield would prevent Mr%*Bingley's being there; 121:117,05[' ]| and as to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that 121:117,06[' ]| Jane must soon cease to regard it, in the enjoyment of his. 121:117,07[A ]| "It is unlucky," 121:117,07[' ]| said she, after a short pause, 121:117,07[A ]| "that 121:117,08[A ]| you should not be able to see your friends before they 121:117,09[A ]| leave the country. But may we not hope that the period 121:117,10[A ]| of future happiness to which Miss*Bingley looks forward, 121:117,11[A ]| may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful 121:117,12[A ]| intercourse you have known as friends, will be renewed 121:117,13[A ]| with yet greater satisfaction as sisters? ~~ Mr%*Bingley will 121:117,14[A ]| not be detained in London by them." 121:117,15[E ]| "Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will 121:117,16[E ]| return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to 121:117,17[E ]| you ~~ 121:117,18[J ]| "When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined 121:117,19[J ]| that the business which took him to London, might be 121:117,20[J ]| concluded in three or four days, but as we are certain 121:117,21[J ]| it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that 121:117,22[J ]| when Charles gets to town, he will be in no hurry to leave 121:117,23[J ]| it again, we have determined on following him thither, 121:117,24[J ]| that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in 121:117,25[J ]| a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are already 121:117,26[J ]| there for the winter; I wish I could hear that you, my 121:117,27[J ]| dearest friend, had any intention of making one in the 121:117,28[J ]| croud, but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas 121:117,29[J ]| in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which 121:117,30[J ]| that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be 121:117,31[J ]| so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three, 121:117,32[J ]| of whom we shall deprive you." 121:117,33[E ]| "It is evident by this," 121:117,33[' ]| added Jane, 121:117,33[E ]| "that he comes 121:117,34[E ]| back no more this winter." 121:117,35[A ]| "It is only evident that Miss*Bingley does not mean 121:117,36[A ]| he \should\." 121:117,37[E ]| "Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. ~~ 121:117,38[E ]| He is his own master. But you do not know \all\. I \will\ 121:118,01[E ]| read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will 121:118,02[E ]| have no reserves from \you\." 121:118,02[J ]| "Mr%*Darcy is impatient 121:118,03[J ]| to see his sister, and to confess the truth, \we\ are 121:118,04[J ]| scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do 121:118,05[J ]| not think Georgiana*Darcy has her equal for beauty, 121:118,06[J ]| elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she 121:118,07[J ]| inspires in Louisa and myself, is heightened into something 121:118,08[J ]| still more interesting, from the hope we dare to 121:118,09[J ]| entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not 121:118,10[J ]| know whether I ever before mentioned to you my 121:118,11[J ]| feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country 121:118,12[J ]| without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem 121:118,13[J ]| them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly 121:118,14[J ]| already, he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing 121:118,15[J ]| her on the most intimate footing, her relations all wish 121:118,16[J ]| the connection as much as his own, and a sister's partiality 121:118,17[J ]| is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most 121:118,18[J ]| capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these 121:118,19[J ]| circumstances to favour an attachment and nothing to prevent 121:118,20[J ]| it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope 121:118,21[J ]| of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?" 121:118,22[E ]| "What think you of \this\ sentence, my dear Lizzy?" ~~ 121:118,23[' ]| said Jane as she finished it. 121:118,23[E ]| "Is it not clear enough? ~~ 121:118,24[E ]| Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects 121:118,25[E ]| nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced 121:118,26[E ]| of her brother's indifference, and that if she suspects 121:118,27[E ]| the nature of my feelings for him, she means (most kindly!) 121:118,28[E ]| to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion 121:118,29[E ]| on the subject?" 121:118,30[A ]| "Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. ~~ Will 121:118,31[A ]| you hear it?" 121:118,32[E ]| "Most willingly." 121:118,33[A ]| "You shall have it in few words. Miss*Bingley sees 121:118,34[A ]| that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to 121:118,35[A ]| marry Miss*Darcy. She follows him to town in the hope 121:118,36[A ]| of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he 121:118,37[A ]| does not care about you." 121:118,38[' ]| Jane shook her head. 121:119,01[A ]| "Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. ~~ No*one who 121:119,02[A ]| has ever seen you together, can doubt his affection. Miss*Bingley 121:119,03[A ]| I am sure cannot. She is not such a simpleton. 121:119,04[A ]| Could she have seen half as much love in Mr%*Darcy for 121:119,05[A ]| herself, she would have ordered her wedding*clothes. But 121:119,06[A ]| the case is this. We are not rich enough, or grand enough 121:119,07[A ]| for them; and she is the more anxious to get Miss*Darcy 121:119,08[A ]| for her brother, from the notion that when there has been 121:119,09[A ]| \one\ intermarriage, she may have less trouble in achieving 121:119,10[A ]| a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and 121:119,11[A ]| I dare say it would succeed, if Miss*de*Bourgh were out 121:119,12[A ]| of the way. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously 121:119,13[A ]| imagine that because Miss*Bingley tells you her brother 121:119,14[A ]| greatly admires Miss*Darcy, he is in the smallest degree 121:119,15[A ]| less sensible of \your\ merit than when he took leave of you 121:119,16[A ]| on Tuesday, or that it will be in her power to persuade 121:119,17[A ]| him that instead of being in love with you, he is very 121:119,18[A ]| much in love with her friend." 121:119,19[E ]| "If we thought alike of Miss*Bingley," 121:119,19[' ]| replied Jane, 121:119,20[E ]| "your representation of all this, might make me quite 121:119,21[E ]| easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is 121:119,22[E ]| incapable of wilfully deceiving any*one; and all that 121:119,23[E ]| I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived herself." 121:119,24[A ]| "That is right. ~~ You could not have started a more 121:119,25[A ]| happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. 121:119,26[A ]| Believe her to be deceived by all means. You have now 121:119,27[A ]| done your duty by her, and must fret no longer." 121:119,28[E ]| "But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing 121:119,29[E ]| the best, in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are 121:119,30[E ]| all wishing him to marry elsewhere?" 121:119,31[A ]| "You must decide for yourself," 121:119,31[' ]| said Elizabeth, 121:119,31[A ]| "and 121:119,32[A ]| if upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of 121:119,33[A ]| disobliging his two sisters is more than equivalent to the 121:119,34[A ]| happiness of being his wife, I advise you by all means 121:119,35[A ]| to refuse him." 121:119,36[E ]| "How can you talk so?" ~~ 121:119,36[' ]| said Jane faintly smiling, ~~ 121:119,37[E ]| "You must know that though I should be exceedingly 121:119,38[E ]| grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate." 121:120,01[A ]| "I did not think you would; ~~ and that being the case, 121:120,02[A ]| I cannot consider your situation with much compassion." 121:120,03[E ]| "But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will 121:120,04[E ]| never be required. A thousand things may arise in six 121:120,05[E ]| months!" 121:120,06[' ]| The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated 121:120,07[' ]| with the utmost contempt. It appeared to her merely the 121:120,08[' ]| suggestion of Caroline's interested wishes, and she could 121:120,09[' ]| not for a moment suppose that those wishes, however 121:120,10[' ]| openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man so 121:120,11[' ]| totally independent of every*one. 121:120,12[' ]| She represented to her sister as forcibly as possible 121:120,13[' ]| what she felt on the subject, and had soon the pleasure 121:120,14[' ]| of seeing its happy effect. Jane's temper was not desponding, 121:120,15[' ]| and she was gradually led to hope, though the 121:120,16[' ]| diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that 121:120,17[' ]| Bingley would return to Netherfield and answer every wish 121:120,18[' ]| of her heart. 121:120,19[' ]| They agreed that Mrs%*Bennet should only hear of the 121:120,20[' ]| departure of the family, without being alarmed on 121:120,21[' ]| the score of the gentleman's conduct; but even this 121:120,23[' ]| partial communication gave her a great deal of concern, 121:120,24[' ]| and she bewailed it as 121:120,24@d | exceedingly unlucky that the ladies 121:120,25@d | should happen to go away, just as they were all getting 121:120,26@d | so intimate together. 121:120,26[' ]| After lamenting it however at some 121:120,27[' ]| length, she had the consolation of thinking that 121:120,27@d | Mr%*Bingley 121:120,28@d | would be soon down again and soon dining at 121:120,29@d | Longbourn, 121:120,29[' ]| and the conclusion of all was the comfortable 121:120,30[' ]| declaration that, 121:120,30@d | though he had been invited only to a 121:120,31@d | family dinner, she would take care to have two full 121:120,32@d | courses. 122:121,01[' ]| The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases, 122:121,02[' ]| and again during the chief of the day, was Miss*Lucas so 122:121,03[' ]| kind as to listen to Mr%*Collins. Elizabeth took an opportunity 122:121,04[' ]| of thanking her. 122:121,04[A ]| "It keeps him in good*humour," 122:121,05[' ]| said she, 122:121,05[A ]| "and I am more obliged to you than I can 122:121,06[A ]| express." 122:121,06[' ]| Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction 122:121,07[' ]| in being useful, and that it amply repaid her for the little 122:121,08[' ]| sacrifice of her time. This was very amiable, but Charlotte's 122:121,09[' ]| kindness extended farther than Elizabeth had any 122:121,10[' ]| conception of; ~~ its object was nothing less, than to secure 122:121,11[' ]| her from any return of Mr%*Collins's addresses, by engaging 122:121,12[' ]| them towards herself. Such was Miss*Lucas's scheme; 122:121,13[' ]| and appearances were so favourable that when they 122:121,14[' ]| parted at night, she would have felt almost sure of success 122:121,15[' ]| if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. 122:121,16[' ]| But here, she did injustice to the fire and independence 122:121,17[' ]| of his character, for it led him to escape out of Longbourn*House 122:121,18[' ]| the next morning with admirable slyness, and 122:121,19[' ]| hasten to Lucas*Lodge to throw himself at her feet. He 122:121,20[' ]| was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, from 122:121,21[' ]| a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not 122:121,22[' ]| fail to conjecture his design, and he was not willing to 122:121,23[' ]| have the attempt known till its success could be known 122:121,24[' ]| likewise; for though feeling almost secure, and with 122:121,25[' ]| reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, he 122:121,26[' ]| was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. 122:121,27[' ]| His reception however was of the most flattering 122:121,28[' ]| kind. Miss*Lucas perceived him from an upper window 122:121,29[' ]| as he walked towards the house, and instantly set out 122:121,30[' ]| to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had she 122:121,31[' ]| dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited 122:121,32[' ]| her there. 122:121,33[' ]| In as short a time as Mr%*Collins's long speeches would 122:122,01[' ]| allow, every*thing was settled between them to the satisfaction 122:122,02[' ]| of both; and as they entered the house, he earnestly 122:122,03[' ]| entreated her to 122:122,03@k | name the day that was to make him the 122:122,04@k | happiest of men; 122:122,04[' ]| and though such a solicitation must be 122:122,05[' ]| waved for the present, the lady felt no inclination to 122:122,06[' ]| trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with which he 122:122,07[' ]| was favoured by nature, must guard his courtship from 122:122,08[' ]| any charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance; 122:122,09[' ]| and Miss*Lucas, who accepted him solely from the 122:122,10[' ]| pure and disinterested desire of an establishment, cared 122:122,11[' ]| not how soon that establishment were gained. 122:122,12[' ]| Sir*William and Lady*Lucas were speedily applied to 122:122,13[' ]| for their consent; and it was bestowed with a most 122:122,14[' ]| joyful alacrity. Mr%*Collins's present circumstances made 122:122,15[' ]| it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom they 122:122,16[' ]| could give little fortune; and his prospects of future 122:122,17[' ]| wealth were exceedingly fair. Lady*Lucas began directly 122:122,18[' ]| to calculate with more interest than the matter had ever 122:122,19[' ]| excited before, how many years longer Mr%*Bennet was 122:122,20[' ]| likely to live; and Sir*William gave it as his decided 122:122,21[' ]| opinion, that whenever Mr%*Collins should be in possession 122:122,22[' ]| of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient 122:122,23[' ]| that both he and his wife should make their appearance 122:122,24[' ]| at St%*James's. The whole family in short were properly 122:122,25[' ]| overjoyed on the occasion. The younger girls formed 122:122,26[' ]| hopes of \coming\ \out\ a year or two sooner than they might 122:122,27[' ]| otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved from 122:122,28[' ]| their apprehension of Charlotte's dying an old maid. 122:122,29[' ]| Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had gained 122:122,30[' ]| her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections 122:122,31[' ]| were in general satisfactory. 122:122,31@q | Mr%*Collins to be sure was 122:122,32@q | neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome, 122:122,33@q | and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still 122:122,34@q | he would be her husband. ~~ 122:122,34[' ]| Without thinking highly either 122:122,35[' ]| of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her 122:122,36[' ]| object; 122:122,36@q | it was the only honourable provision for well-educated 122:122,37@q | young women of small fortune, and however 122:122,38@q | uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest 122:123,01@q | preservative from want. 122:123,01[' ]| This preservative she had now 122:123,02[' ]| obtained; and at the age of twenty-seven, without having 122:123,03[' ]| ever been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it. The 122:123,04[' ]| least agreeable circumstance in the business, was the surprise 122:123,05[' ]| it must occasion to Elizabeth*Bennet, whose friendship 122:123,06[' ]| she valued beyond that of any other person. 122:123,06@q | Elizabeth 122:123,07@q | would wonder, and probably would blame her; 122:123,07[' ]| and though 122:123,08[' ]| her resolution was not to be shaken, her feelings must be 122:123,09[' ]| hurt by such disapprobation. She resolved to give her 122:123,10[' ]| the information herself, and therefore charged Mr%*Collins 122:123,11[' ]| when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no 122:123,12[' ]| hint of what had passed before any of the family. A promise 122:123,13[' ]| of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it 122:123,14[' ]| could not be kept without difficulty; for the curiosity 122:123,15[' ]| excited by his long absence, burst forth in such very 122:123,16[' ]| direct questions on his return, as required some ingenuity 122:123,17[' ]| to evade, and he was at the same time exercising great 122:123,18[' ]| self-denial, for he was longing to publish his prosperous love. 122:123,19[' ]| As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow 122:123,20[' ]| to see any of the family, the ceremony of leave-taking 122:123,21[' ]| was performed when the ladies moved for the night; and 122:123,22[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet with great politeness and cordiality said how 122:123,23[' ]| happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again, whenever 122:123,24[' ]| his other engagements might allow him to visit them. 122:123,25[K ]| "My dear Madam," 122:123,25[' ]| he replied, 122:123,25[K ]| "this invitation is 122:123,26[K ]| particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been 122:123,27[K ]| hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I 122:123,28[K ]| shall avail myself of it as soon as possible." 122:123,29[' ]| They were all astonished; and Mr%*Bennet, who could 122:123,30[' ]| by no means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said, 122:123,31[C ]| "But is there not danger of Lady*Catherine's disapprobation 122:123,32[C ]| here, my good sir? ~~ You had better neglect your 122:123,33[C ]| relations, than run the risk of offending your patroness." 122:123,34[K ]| "My dear sir," 122:123,34[' ]| replied Mr%*Collins, 122:123,34[K ]| "I am particularly 122:123,35[K ]| obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may 122:123,36[K ]| depend upon my not taking so material a step without her 122:123,37[K ]| ladyship's concurrence." 122:123,38[C ]| "You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk 122:124,01[C ]| any*thing rather than her displeasure; and if you find it 122:124,02[C ]| likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I 122:124,03[C ]| should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, 122:124,04[C ]| and be satisfied that \we\ shall take no offence." 122:124,05[K ]| "Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly 122:124,06[K ]| excited by such affectionate attention; and depend upon 122:124,07[K ]| it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for 122:124,08[K ]| this, as well as for every other mark of your regard during 122:124,09[K ]| my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though 122:124,10[K ]| my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, 122:124,11[K ]| I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and 122:124,12[K ]| happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth." 122:124,13[' ]| With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of 122:124,14[' ]| them equally surprised to find that he meditated a quick 122:124,15[' ]| return. Mrs%*Bennet wished to understand by it that he 122:124,16[' ]| thought of paying his addresses to one of her younger 122:124,17[' ]| girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept 122:124,18[' ]| him. She rated his abilities much higher than any of the 122:124,19[' ]| others; 122:124,19@f | there was a solidity in his reflections which often 122:124,20@f | struck her, and though by no means so clever as herself, 122:124,21[' ]| she thought that 122:124,21@f | if encouraged to read and improve himself 122:124,22@f | by such an example as her's, he might become a very 122:124,23@f | agreeable companion. 122:124,23[' ]| But on the following morning, 122:124,24[' ]| every hope of this kind was done away. Miss*Lucas called 122:124,25[' ]| soon after breakfast, and in a private conference with 122:124,26[' ]| Elizabeth related the event of the day before. 122:124,27[' ]| The possibility of Mr%*Collins's fancying himself in love 122:124,28[' ]| with her friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the 122:124,29[' ]| last day or two; but that Charlotte could encourage him, 122:124,30[' ]| seemed almost as far from possibility as that she could 122:124,31[' ]| encourage him herself, and her astonishment was consequently 122:124,32[' ]| so great as to overcome at first the bounds of 122:124,33[' ]| decorum, and she could not help crying out, 122:124,34[A ]| "Engaged to Mr%*Collins! my dear Charlotte, ~~ 122:124,35[A ]| impossible!" 122:124,36[' ]| The steady countenance which Miss*Lucas had commanded 122:124,37[' ]| in telling her story, gave way to a momentary 122:124,38[' ]| confusion here on receiving so direct a reproach; though, 122:125,01[' ]| as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained her 122:125,02[' ]| composure, and calmly replied, 122:125,03[Q ]| "Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? ~~ Do 122:125,04[Q ]| you think it incredible that Mr%*Collins should be able to 122:125,05[Q ]| procure any woman's good opinion, because he was not so 122:125,06[Q ]| happy as to succeed with you?" 122:125,07[' ]| But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a 122:125,08[' ]| strong effort for it, was able to assure her with tolerable firmness 122:125,09[' ]| that the prospect of their relationship was highly grateful 122:125,10[' ]| to her, and that she wished her all imaginable happiness. 122:125,11[Q ]| "I see what you are feeling," 122:125,11[' ]| replied Charlotte, ~~ 122:125,11[Q ]| "you 122:125,12[Q ]| must be surprised, very much surprised, ~~ so lately as 122:125,13[Q ]| Mr%*Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you 122:125,14[Q ]| have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be 122:125,15[Q ]| satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic you 122:125,16[Q ]| know. I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; 122:125,17[Q ]| and considering Mr%*Collins's character, connections, and 122:125,18[Q ]| situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness 122:125,19[Q ]| with him is as fair, as most people can boast on 122:125,20[Q ]| entering the marriage state." 122:125,21[' ]| Elizabeth quietly answered 122:125,21[A ]| "Undoubtedly;" ~~ 122:125,21[' ]| and 122:125,22[' ]| after an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the 122:125,23[' ]| family. Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth 122:125,24[' ]| was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It was 122:125,25[' ]| a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea 122:125,26[' ]| of so unsuitable a match. 122:125,26@a | The strangeness of Mr%*Collins's 122:125,27@a | making two offers of marriage within three days, was 122:125,28@a | nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She 122:125,29@a | had always felt that Charlotte's opinion of matrimony 122:125,30@a | was not exactly like her own, but she could not have 122:125,31@a | supposed it possible that when called into action, she 122:125,32@a | would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly 122:125,33@a | advantage. Charlotte the wife of Mr%*Collins, was a most 122:125,34@a | humiliating picture! ~~ 122:125,34[' ]| And to the pang of a friend disgracing 122:125,35[' ]| herself and sunk in her esteem, was added the 122:125,36[' ]| distressing conviction that it was impossible for that 122:125,37[' ]| friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen. 123:126,01[' ]| Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, 123:126,02[' ]| reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether 123:126,03[' ]| she were authorised to mention it, when Sir*William*Lucas 123:126,04[' ]| himself appeared, sent by his daughter to announce her 123:126,05[' ]| engagement to the family. With many compliments to 123:126,06[' ]| them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a 123:126,07[' ]| connection between the two houses, he unfolded the matter, ~~ 123:126,08[' ]| to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; 123:126,09[' ]| for Mrs%*Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, 123:126,10[' ]| protested he must be entirely mistaken, and Lydia, always 123:126,11[' ]| unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed, 123:126,12[H ]| "Good Lord! Sir*William, how can you tell such 123:126,13[H ]| a story? ~~ Do not you know that Mr%*Collins wants to 123:126,14[H ]| marry Lizzy?" 123:126,15[' ]| Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could 123:126,16[' ]| have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir*William's 123:126,17[' ]| good*breeding carried him through it all; and 123:126,18[' ]| though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth 123:126,19[' ]| of his information, he listened to all their impertinence 123:126,20[' ]| with the most forbearing courtesy. 123:126,21[' ]| Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him 123:126,22[' ]| from so unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward 123:126,23[' ]| to confirm his account, by mentioning her prior knowledge 123:126,24[' ]| of it from Charlotte herself; and endeavoured to put 123:126,25[' ]| a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters, by 123:126,26[' ]| the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir*William, 123:126,27[' ]| in which she was readily joined by Jane, and by making 123:126,28[' ]| a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be 123:126,29[' ]| expected from the match, the excellent character of 123:126,30[' ]| Mr%*Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from 123:126,31[' ]| London. 123:126,32[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to 123:126,33[' ]| say a great deal while Sir*William remained; but no 123:127,01[' ]| sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid 123:127,02[' ]| vent. 123:127,02@d | In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the 123:127,03@d | whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that 123:127,04@d | Mr%*Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that 123:127,05@d | they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that 123:127,06@d | the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, 123:127,07@d | were plainly deduced from the whole; one, that Elizabeth 123:127,08@d | was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that 123:127,09@d | she herself had been barbarously used by them all; 123:127,09[' ]| and 123:127,10[' ]| on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest 123:127,11[' ]| of the day. Nothing could console and nothing appease 123:127,12[' ]| her. ~~ Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week 123:127,13[' ]| elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding 123:127,14[' ]| her, a month passed away before she could speak to 123:127,15[' ]| Sir*William or Lady*Lucas without being rude, and many 123:127,16[' ]| months were gone before she could at all forgive their 123:127,17[' ]| daughter. 123:127,18[' ]| Mr%*Bennet's emotions were much more tranquil on the 123:127,19[' ]| occasion, and such as he did experience he pronounced 123:127,20[' ]| to be of a most agreeable sort; for 123:127,20@c | it gratified him, 123:127,20[' ]| he 123:127,21[' ]| said, 123:127,21@c | to discover that Charlotte*Lucas, whom he had been 123:127,22@c | used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, 123:127,23@c | and more foolish than his daughter! 123:127,24[' ]| Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; 123:127,25[' ]| but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest 123:127,26[' ]| desire for their happiness; nor could Elizabeth persuade 123:127,27[' ]| her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and Lydia were 123:127,28[' ]| far from envying Miss*Lucas, for Mr%*Collins was only 123:127,29[' ]| a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than 123:127,30[' ]| as a piece of news to spread at Meryton. 123:127,31[' ]| Lady*Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being 123:127,32[' ]| able to retort on Mrs%*Bennet the comfort of having a 123:127,33[' ]| daughter well married; and she called at Longbourn 123:127,34[' ]| rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, 123:127,35[' ]| though Mrs%*Bennet's sour looks and ill-natured remarks 123:127,36[' ]| might have been enough to drive happiness away. 123:127,37[' ]| Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint 123:127,38[' ]| which kept them mutually silent on the subject; and 123:128,01[' ]| Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could 123:128,02[' ]| ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment 123:128,03[' ]| in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her 123:128,04[' ]| sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her 123:128,05[' ]| opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness 123:128,06[' ]| she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been 123:128,07[' ]| gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return. 123:128,08[' ]| Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, 123:128,09[' ]| and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope 123:128,10[' ]| to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from 123:128,11[' ]| Mr%*Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, 123:128,12[' ]| and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a 123:128,13[' ]| twelvemonth's abode in the family might have prompted. 123:128,14[' ]| After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded 123:128,15[' ]| to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, 123:128,16[' ]| of 123:128,16@k | his happiness in having obtained the affection of their 123:128,17@k | amiable neighbour, Miss*Lucas, 123:128,17[' ]| and then explained that 123:128,18@k | it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that 123:128,19@k | he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of 123:128,20@k | seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be 123:128,21@k | able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady*Catherine, 123:128,22[' ]| he added, 123:128,22@k | so heartily approved his marriage, that she 123:128,23@k | wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted 123:128,24@k | would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable 123:128,25@k | Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest 123:128,26@k | of men. 123:128,27[' ]| Mr%*Collins's return into Hertfordshire was no longer 123:128,28[' ]| a matter of pleasure to Mrs%*Bennet. On the contrary 123:128,29[' ]| she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. ~~ 123:128,30@d | It was very strange that he should come to 123:128,31@d | Longbourn instead of to Lucas*Lodge; it was also very 123:128,32@d | inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. ~~ She hated 123:128,33@d | having visitors in the house while her health was so 123:128,34@d | indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. 123:128,35[' ]| Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs%*Bennet, 123:128,36[' ]| and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr%*Bingley's 123:128,37[' ]| continued absence. 123:129,01[' ]| Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this 123:129,02[' ]| subject. Day after day passed away without bringing 123:129,03[' ]| any other tidings of him than the report which shortly 123:129,04[' ]| prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield 123:129,05[' ]| the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs%*Bennet, 123:129,06[' ]| and which she never failed to contradict as a most 123:129,07[' ]| scandalous falsehood. 123:129,08[' ]| Even Elizabeth began to fear ~~ not that Bingley was 123:129,09[' ]| indifferent ~~ but that his sisters would be successful in 123:129,10[' ]| keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an 123:129,11[' ]| idea so destructive of Jane's happiness, and so dishonourable 123:129,12[' ]| to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent 123:129,13[' ]| its frequently recurring. 123:129,13@a | The united efforts of his two 123:129,14@a | unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted 123:129,15@a | by the attractions of Miss*Darcy and the amusements 123:129,16@a | of London, might be too much, 123:129,16[' ]| she feared, 123:129,16@a | for the strength 123:129,17@a | of his attachment. 123:129,18[' ]| As for Jane, \her\ anxiety under this suspence was, of 123:129,19[' ]| course, more painful than Elizabeth's; but whatever she 123:129,20[' ]| felt she was desirous of concealing, and between herself 123:129,21[' ]| and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject was never alluded to. 123:129,22[' ]| But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour 123:129,23[' ]| seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express 123:129,24[' ]| her impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to 123:129,25[' ]| confess that if he did not come back, she should think 123:129,26[' ]| herself very ill*used. It needed all Jane's steady mildness 123:129,27[' ]| to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity. 123:129,28[' ]| Mr%*Collins returned most punctually on the Monday 123:129,29[' ]| fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was not quite 123:129,30[' ]| so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He 123:129,31[' ]| was too happy, however, to need much attention; and 123:129,32[' ]| luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved 123:129,33[' ]| them from a great deal of his company. The chief of 123:129,34[' ]| every day was spent by him at Lucas*Lodge, and he 123:129,35[' ]| sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make 123:129,36[' ]| an apology for his absence before the family went to bed. 123:129,37[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The 123:129,38[' ]| very mention of any*thing concerning the match threw 123:130,01[' ]| her into an agony of ill*humour, and wherever she went 123:130,02[' ]| she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of Miss*Lucas 123:130,03[' ]| was odious to her. As her successor in that house, 123:130,04[' ]| she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever 123:130,05[' ]| Charlotte came to see them she concluded her to be 123:130,06[' ]| anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever she 123:130,07[' ]| spoke in a low voice to Mr%*Collins, was convinced that 123:130,08[' ]| they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving 123:130,09[' ]| to turn herself and her daughters out of the house, as soon 123:130,10[' ]| as Mr%*Bennet were dead. She complained bitterly of all 123:130,11[' ]| this to her husband. 123:130,12[D ]| "Indeed, Mr%*Bennet," 123:130,12[' ]| said she, 123:130,12[D ]| "it is very hard to 123:130,13[D ]| think that Charlotte*Lucas should ever be mistress of 123:130,14[D ]| this house, that \I\ should be forced to make way for \her\, 123:130,15[D ]| and live to see her take my place in it!" 123:130,16[C ]| "My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. 123:130,17[C ]| Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves 123:130,18[C ]| that \I\ may be the survivor." 123:130,19[' ]| This was not very consoling to Mrs%*Bennet, and, therefore, 123:130,20[' ]| instead of making any answer, she went on as before, 123:130,21[D ]| "I cannot bear to think that they should have all 123:130,22[D ]| this estate. If it was not for the entail I should not 123:130,23[D ]| mind it." 123:130,24[C ]| "What should not you mind?" 123:130,25[D ]| "I should not mind any*thing at all." 123:130,26[C ]| "Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state 123:130,27[C ]| of such insensibility." 123:130,28[D ]| "I never can be thankful, Mr%*Bennet, for any*thing 123:130,29[D ]| about the entail. How any*one could have the conscience 123:130,30[D ]| to entail away an estate from one's own daughters 123:130,31[D ]| I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr%*Collins 123:130,32[D ]| too! ~~ Why should \he\ have it more than anybody else?" 123:130,33[C ]| "I leave it to yourself to determine," 123:130,33[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet. 201:133,01[' ]| Miss*Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. 201:133,02[' ]| The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of 201:133,02@j | their 201:133,03@j | being all settled in London for the winter, 201:133,03[' ]| and concluded 201:133,04[' ]| with 201:133,04@j | her brother's regret at not having had time to pay 201:133,05@j | his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left 201:133,06@j | the country. 201:133,07@e | Hope was over, entirely over; 201:133,07[' ]| and when Jane could 201:133,08[' ]| attend to the rest of the letter, she found little, except 201:133,09[' ]| the professed affection of the writer, that could give her 201:133,10[' ]| any comfort. Miss*Darcy's praise occupied the chief of it. 201:133,11[' ]| Her many attractions were again dwelt on, and Caroline 201:133,12[' ]| boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured 201:133,13[' ]| to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had 201:133,14[' ]| been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote also with 201:133,15[' ]| great pleasure of her brother's being an inmate of Mr%*Darcy's 201:133,16[' ]| house, and mentioned with raptures, some plans 201:133,17[' ]| of the latter with regard to new furniture. 201:133,18[' ]| Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the 201:133,19[' ]| chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart 201:133,20[' ]| was divided between concern for her sister, and resentment 201:133,21[' ]| against all the others. To Caroline's assertion of her 201:133,22[' ]| brother's being partial to Miss*Darcy she paid no credit. 201:133,23[' ]| That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than 201:133,24[' ]| she had ever done; and much as she had always been 201:133,25[' ]| disposed to like him, she could not think without anger, 201:133,26[' ]| hardly without contempt, on 201:133,26@a | that easiness of temper, that 201:133,27@a | want of proper resolution which now made him the slave 201:133,28@a | of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own 201:133,29@a | happiness to the caprice of their inclinations. Had his 201:133,30@a | own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he might 201:134,01@a | have been allowed to sport with it in what*ever manner 201:134,02@a | he thought best; but her sister's was involved in it, as 201:134,03[' ]| she thought 201:134,03@a | he must be sensible himself. 201:134,03[' ]| It was a subject, 201:134,04[' ]| in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and 201:134,05[' ]| must be unavailing. She could think of nothing else, 201:134,05@a | and 201:134,06@a | yet whether Bingley's regard had really died away, or 201:134,07@a | were suppressed by his friends' interference; whether 201:134,08@a | he had been aware of Jane's attachment, or whether it 201:134,09@a | had escaped his observation; whichever were the case, 201:134,10@a | though her opinion of him must be materially affected 201:134,11@a | by the difference, her sister's situation remained the same, 201:134,12@a | her peace equally wounded. 201:134,13[' ]| A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak 201:134,14[' ]| of her feelings to Elizabeth; but at last on Mrs%*Bennet's 201:134,15[' ]| leaving them together, after a longer irritation than usual 201:134,16[' ]| about Netherfield and its master, she could not help 201:134,17[' ]| saying, 201:134,18[E ]| "Oh! that my dear mother had more command over 201:134,19[E ]| herself; she can have no idea of the pain she gives me 201:134,20[E ]| by her continual reflections on him. But I will not 201:134,21[E ]| repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we 201:134,22[E ]| shall all be as we were before." 201:134,23[' ]| Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, 201:134,24[' ]| but said nothing. 201:134,25[E ]| "You doubt me," 201:134,25[' ]| cried Jane, slightly colouring; 201:134,26[E ]| "indeed you have no reason. He may live in my memory 201:134,27[E ]| as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that 201:134,28[E ]| is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing 201:134,29[E ]| to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not \that\ 201:134,30[E ]| pain. A little time therefore. ~~ I shall certainly try to 201:134,31[E ]| get the better." 201:134,32[' ]| With a stronger voice she soon added, 201:134,32[E ]| "I have this 201:134,33[E ]| comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an 201:134,34[E ]| error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm 201:134,35[E ]| to any*one but myself." 201:134,36[A ]| "My dear Jane!" 201:134,36[' ]| exclaimed Elizabeth, 201:134,36[A ]| "you are too 201:134,37[A ]| good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really 201:134,38[A ]| angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if 201:135,01[A ]| I had never done you justice, or loved you as you 201:135,02[A ]| deserve." 201:135,03[' ]| Miss*Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, 201:135,04[' ]| and threw back the praise on her sister's warm affection. 201:135,05[A ]| "Nay," 201:135,05[' ]| said Elizabeth, 201:135,05[A ]| "this is not fair. \You\ wish to 201:135,06[A ]| think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill 201:135,07[A ]| of any*body. \I\ only want to think \you\ perfect, and you 201:135,08[A ]| set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running 201:135,09[A ]| into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of 201:135,10[A ]| universal good*will. You need not. There are few people 201:135,11[A ]| whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. 201:135,12[A ]| The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied 201:135,13[A ]| with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency 201:135,14[A ]| of all human characters, and of the little dependence 201:135,15[A ]| that can be placed on the appearance of either merit 201:135,16[A ]| or sense. I have met with two instances lately; one 201:135,17[A ]| I will not mention; the other is Charlotte's marriage. 201:135,18[A ]| It is unaccountable! in every view it is unaccountable!" 201:135,19[E ]| "My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as 201:135,20[E ]| these. They will ruin your happiness. You do not make 201:135,21[E ]| allowance enough for difference of situation and temper. 201:135,22[E ]| Consider Mr%*Collins's respectability, and Charlotte's 201:135,23[E ]| prudent, steady character. Remember that she is one of 201:135,24[E ]| a large family; that as to fortune, it is a most eligible 201:135,25[E ]| match; and be ready to believe, for every*body's sake, 201:135,26[E ]| that she may feel something like regard and esteem for 201:135,27[E ]| our cousin." 201:135,28[A ]| "To oblige you, I would try to believe almost any*thing 201:135,29[A ]| but no*one else could be benefited by such a belief 201:135,30[A ]| as this; for were I persuaded that Charlotte had any 201:135,31[A ]| regard for him, I should only think worse of her understanding, 201:135,32[A ]| than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, 201:135,33[A ]| Mr%*Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly 201:135,34[A ]| man; you know he is, as well as I do; and you must 201:135,35[A ]| feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries him, 201:135,36[A ]| cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not 201:135,37[A ]| defend her, though it is Charlotte*Lucas. You shall 201:135,38[A ]| not, for the sake of one individual, change the meaning 201:136,01[A ]| of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade 201:136,02[A ]| yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility 201:136,03[A ]| of danger, security for happiness." 201:136,04[E ]| "I must think your language too strong in speaking 201:136,05[E ]| of both," 201:136,05[' ]| replied Jane, 201:136,05[E ]| "and I hope you will be convinced 201:136,06[E ]| of it, by seeing them happy together. But enough of this. 201:136,07[E ]| You alluded to something else. You mentioned \two\ 201:136,08[E ]| instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I intreat 201:136,09[E ]| you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking \that\ \person\ 201:136,10[E ]| to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk. We 201:136,11[E ]| must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally 201:136,12[E ]| injured. We must not expect a lively young man to be 201:136,13[E ]| always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often 201:136,14[E ]| nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. Woman 201:136,15[E ]| fancy admiration means more than it does." 201:136,16[A ]| "And men take care that they should." 201:136,17[E ]| "If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; 201:136,18[E ]| but I have no idea of there being so much design in the 201:136,19[E ]| world as some persons imagine." 201:136,20[A ]| "I am far from attributing any part of Mr%*Bingley's 201:136,21[A ]| conduct to design," 201:136,21[' ]| said Elizabeth; 201:136,21[A ]| "but without 201:136,22[A ]| scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, there 201:136,23[A ]| may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, 201:136,24[A ]| want of attention to other people's feelings, and want of 201:136,25[A ]| resolution, will do the business." 201:136,26[E ]| "And do you impute it to either of those?' 201:136,27[A ]| "Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease 201:136,28[A ]| you by saying what I think of persons you esteem. Stop 201:136,29[A ]| me whilst you can." 201:136,30[E ]| "You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence 201:136,31[E ]| him." 201:136,32[A ]| "Yes, in conjunction with his friend." 201:136,33[E ]| "I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence 201:136,34[E ]| him? They can only wish his happiness, and if he is 201:136,35[E ]| attached to me, no other woman can secure it." 201:136,36[A ]| "Your first position is false. They may wish many 201:136,37[A ]| things besides his happiness; they may wish his increase 201:136,38[A ]| of wealth and consequence; they may wish him to marry 201:137,01[A ]| a girl who has all the importance of money, great connections, 201:137,02[A ]| and pride." 201:137,03[E ]| "Beyond a doubt, they \do\ wish him to chuse Miss*Darcy," 201:137,04[' ]| replied Jane; 201:137,04[E ]| "but this may be from better 201:137,05[E ]| feelings than you are supposing. They have known her 201:137,06[E ]| much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they 201:137,07[E ]| love her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, 201:137,08[E ]| it is very unlikely they should have opposed their brother's. 201:137,09[E ]| What sister would think herself at liberty to do it, unless 201:137,10[E ]| there were something very objectionable? If they believed 201:137,11[E ]| him attached to me, they would not try to part us; if he 201:137,12[E ]| were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an 201:137,13[E ]| affection, you make every*body acting unnaturally and 201:137,14[E ]| wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the 201:137,15[E ]| idea. I am not ashamed of having been mistaken ~~ or, 201:137,16[E ]| at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of what 201:137,17[E ]| I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me 201:137,18[E ]| take it in the best light, in the light in which it may be 201:137,19[E ]| understood." 201:137,20[' ]| Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this 201:137,21[' ]| time Mr%*Bingley's name was scarcely ever mentioned 201:137,22[' ]| between them. 201:137,23[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at 201:137,24[' ]| his returning no more, and though a day seldom passed 201:137,25[' ]| in which Elizabeth did not account for it clearly, there 201:137,26[' ]| seemed little chance of her ever considering it with less 201:137,27[' ]| perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her 201:137,28[' ]| of what she did not believe herself, that his attentions 201:137,29[' ]| to Jane had been merely the effect of a common and 201:137,30[' ]| transient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more; 201:137,31[' ]| but though the probability of the statement was admitted 201:137,32[' ]| at the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. 201:137,33[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet's best comfort was, that 201:137,33@d | Mr%*Bingley must 201:137,34@d | be down again in the summer. 201:137,35[' ]| Mr%*Bennet treated the matter differently. 201:137,35[C ]| "So, 201:137,36[C ]| Lizzy," 201:137,36[' ]| said he one day, 201:137,36[C ]| "your sister is crossed in love 201:137,37[C ]| I find. I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl 201:137,38[C ]| likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is 201:138,01[C ]| something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction 201:138,02[C ]| among her companions. When is your turn to come? 201:138,03[C ]| You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now 201:138,04[C ]| is your time. Here are officers enough at Meryton to 201:138,05[C ]| disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let 201:138,06[C ]| Wickham be \your\ man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would 201:138,07[C ]| jilt you creditably." 201:138,08[A ]| "Thank you, Sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy 201:138,09[A ]| me. We must not all expect Jane's good fortune." 201:138,10[C ]| "True," 201:138,10[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet, 201:138,10[C ]| "but it is a comfort to think 201:138,11[C ]| that, whatever of that kind may befal you, you have an 201:138,12[C ]| affectionate mother who will always make the most of it." 201:138,13[' ]| Mr%*Wickham's society was of material service in dispelling 201:138,14[' ]| the gloom, which the late perverse occurrences had 201:138,15[' ]| thrown on many of the Longbourn family. They saw 201:138,16[' ]| him often, and to his other recommendations was now 201:138,17[' ]| added that of general unreserve. The whole of what 201:138,18[' ]| Elizabeth had already heard, his claims on Mr%*Darcy, 201:138,19[' ]| and all that he had suffered from him, was now openly 201:138,20[' ]| acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and every*body 201:138,21[' ]| was pleased to think how much they had always disliked 201:138,22[' ]| Mr%*Darcy before they had known any*thing of the matter. 201:138,23[' ]| Miss*Bennet was the only creature who could suppose 201:138,24[' ]| there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case, 201:138,25[' ]| unknown to the society of Hertfordshire; her mild and 201:138,26[' ]| steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged 201:138,27[' ]| the possibility of mistakes ~~ but by everybody else 201:138,28[' ]| Mr%*Darcy was condemned as the worst of men. 202:139,01[' ]| After a week spent in professions of love and schemes 202:139,02[' ]| of felicity, Mr%*Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte 202:139,03[' ]| by the arrival of Saturday. The pain of separation, 202:139,04[' ]| however, might be alleviated on his side, by preparations 202:139,05[' ]| for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to hope, 202:139,06[' ]| that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the 202:139,07[' ]| day would be fixed that was to make him the happiest 202:139,08[' ]| of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn 202:139,09[' ]| with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins 202:139,10[' ]| health and happiness again, and promised their father 202:139,11[' ]| another letter of thanks. 202:139,12[' ]| On the following Monday, Mrs%*Bennet had the pleasure 202:139,13[' ]| of receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual 202:139,14[' ]| to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr%*Gardiner was 202:139,15[' ]| a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his 202:139,16[' ]| sister as well by nature as education. The Netherfield 202:139,17[' ]| ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man 202:139,18[' ]| who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, 202:139,19[' ]| could have been so well*bred and agreeable. Mrs%*Gardiner, 202:139,20[' ]| who was several years younger than Mrs%*Bennet and 202:139,21[' ]| Mrs%*Philips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman, 202:139,22[' ]| and a great favourite with all her Longbourn nieces. 202:139,23[' ]| Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted 202:139,24[' ]| a very particular regard. They had frequently 202:139,25[' ]| been staying with her in town. 202:139,26[' ]| The first part of Mrs%*Gardiner's business on her arrival, 202:139,27[' ]| was to distribute her presents and describe the newest 202:139,28[' ]| fashions. When this was done, she had a less active part 202:139,29[' ]| to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs%*Bennet had 202:139,30[' ]| many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. 202:139,31@d | They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her 202:139,32@d | sister. Two of her girls had been on the point of marriage, 202:139,33@d | and after all there was nothing in it. 202:140,01[D ]| "I do not blame Jane," 202:140,01[' ]| she continued, 202:140,01[D ]| "for Jane 202:140,02[D ]| would have got Mr%*Bingley, if she could. But, Lizzy! 202:140,03[D ]| Oh, sister! it is very hard to think that she might have 202:140,04[D ]| been Mr%*Collins's wife by this time, had not it been for 202:140,05[D ]| her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very 202:140,06[D ]| room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is, 202:140,07[D ]| that Lady*Lucas will have a daughter married before I 202:140,08[D ]| have, and that Longbourn estate is just as much entailed 202:140,09[D ]| as ever. The Lucases are very artful people indeed, sister. 202:140,10[D ]| They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say 202:140,11[D ]| it of them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and 202:140,12[D ]| poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have 202:140,13[D ]| neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else. 202:140,14[D ]| However, your coming just at this time is the greatest 202:140,15[D ]| of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell 202:140,16[D ]| us, of long sleeves." 202:140,17[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been 202:140,18[' ]| given before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth's correspondence 202:140,19[' ]| with her, made her sister a slight answer, and 202:140,20[' ]| in compassion to her nieces turned the conversation. 202:140,21[' ]| When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more 202:140,22[' ]| on the subject. 202:140,22[O ]| "It seems likely to have been a desirable 202:140,23[O ]| match for Jane," 202:140,23[' ]| said she. 202:140,23[O ]| "I am sorry it went off. 202:140,24[O ]| But these things happen so often! A young man, such as 202:140,25[O ]| you describe Mr%*Bingley, so easily falls in love with 202:140,26[O ]| a pretty girl for a few weeks, and when accident separates 202:140,27[O ]| them, so easily forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies 202:140,28[O ]| are very frequent." 202:140,29[A ]| "An excellent consolation in its way," 202:140,29[' ]| said Elizabeth, 202:140,30[A ]| "but it will not do for \us\. We do not suffer by \accident\. 202:140,31[A ]| It does not often happen that the interference of friends 202:140,32[A ]| will persuade a young man of independent fortune to 202:140,33[A ]| think no more of a girl, whom he was violently in love 202:140,34[A ]| with only a few days before." 202:140,35[O ]| "But that expression of ""violently in love"" is so 202:140,36[O ]| hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me 202:140,37[O ]| very little idea. It is as often applied to feelings which 202:140,38[O ]| arise from an half-hour's acquaintance, as to a real, 202:141,01[O ]| strong attachment. Pray, how \violent\ \was\ Mr%*Bingley's 202:141,02[O ]| love?" 202:141,03[A ]| "I never saw a more promising inclination. He was 202:141,04[A ]| growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly 202:141,05[A ]| engrossed by her. Every time they met, it was more 202:141,06[A ]| decided and remarkable. At his own ball he offended two 202:141,07[A ]| or three young ladies, by not asking them to dance, and 202:141,08[A ]| I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. 202:141,09[A ]| Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility 202:141,10[A ]| the very essence of love?" 202:141,11[O ]| "Oh, yes! ~~ of that kind of love which I suppose him 202:141,12[O ]| to have felt. Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, 202:141,13[O ]| with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. 202:141,14[O ]| It had better have happened to \you\, Lizzy; you would 202:141,15[O ]| have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think 202:141,16[O ]| she would be prevailed on to go back with us? Change 202:141,17[O ]| of scene might be of service ~~ and perhaps a little relief 202:141,18[O ]| from home, may be as useful as anything." 202:141,19[' ]| Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, 202:141,20[' ]| and felt persuaded of her sister's ready acquiescence. 202:141,21[O ]| "I hope," 202:141,21[' ]| added Mrs%*Gardiner, 202:141,21[O ]| "that no consideration 202:141,22[O ]| with regard to this young man will influence her. We live 202:141,23[O ]| in so different a part of town, all our connections are so 202:141,24[O ]| different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that 202:141,25[O ]| it is very improbable they should meet at all, unless he 202:141,26[O ]| really comes to see her." 202:141,27[A ]| "And \that\ is quite impossible; for he is now in the 202:141,28[A ]| custody of his friend, and Mr%*Darcy would no more suffer 202:141,29[A ]| him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear 202:141,30[A ]| aunt, how could you think of it? Mr%*Darcy may perhaps 202:141,31[A ]| have \heard\ of such a place as Gracechurch*Street, but he 202:141,32[A ]| would hardly think a month's ablution enough to cleanse 202:141,33[A ]| him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and 202:141,34[A ]| depend upon it, Mr%*Bingley never stirs without him." 202:141,35[O ]| "So much the better. I hope they will not meet at 202:141,36[O ]| all. But does not Jane correspond with the sister? \She\ 202:141,37[O ]| will not be able to help calling." 202:141,38[A ]| "She will drop the acquaintance entirely." 202:142,01[' ]| But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected 202:142,02[' ]| to place this point, as well as the still more interesting 202:142,03[' ]| one of Bingley's being withheld from seeing Jane, she 202:142,04[' ]| felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced her, on 202:142,05[' ]| examination, that she did not consider it entirely hopeless. 202:142,06[' ]| It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, 202:142,07[' ]| that his affection might be re-animated, and the influence 202:142,08[' ]| of his friends successfully combated by the more natural 202:142,09[' ]| influence of Jane's attractions. 202:142,10[' ]| Miss*Bennet accepted her aunt's invitation with 202:142,11[' ]| pleasure; and the Bingleys were no otherwise in her 202:142,12[' ]| thoughts at the time, than as she hoped that, 202:142,12@e | by Caroline's 202:142,13@e | not living in the same house with her brother, she might 202:142,14@e | occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger 202:142,15@e | of seeing him. 202:142,16[' ]| The Gardiners staid a week at Longbourn; and what 202:142,17[' ]| with the Philipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there 202:142,18[' ]| was not a day without its engagement. Mrs%*Bennet 202:142,19[' ]| had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her 202:142,20[' ]| brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to 202:142,21[' ]| a family dinner. When the engagement was for home, 202:142,22[' ]| some of the officers always made part of it, of which officers 202:142,23[' ]| Mr%*Wickham was sure to be one; and on these occasions, 202:142,24[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth's warm 202:142,25[' ]| commendation of him, narrowly observed them both. 202:142,26[' ]| Without supposing them, from what she saw, to be very 202:142,27[' ]| seriously in love, their preference of each other was plain 202:142,28[' ]| enough to make her a little uneasy; and she resolved to 202:142,29[' ]| speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left Hertfordshire, 202:142,30[' ]| and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging 202:142,31[' ]| such an attachment. 202:142,32[' ]| To Mrs%*Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording 202:142,33[' ]| pleasure, unconnected with his general powers. About 202:142,34[' ]| ten or a dozen years ago, before her marriage, she had 202:142,35[' ]| spent a considerable time in that very part of Derbyshire, 202:142,36[' ]| to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many acquaintance 202:142,37[' ]| in common; and, though Wickham had been little 202:142,38[' ]| there since the death of Darcy's father, five years before, 202:143,01[' ]| it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelligence of 202:143,02[' ]| her former friends, than she had been in the way of 202:143,03[' ]| procuring. 202:143,04[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late 202:143,05[' ]| Mr%*Darcy by character perfectly well. Here consequently 202:143,06[' ]| was an inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing 202:143,07[' ]| her recollection of Pemberley, with the minute description 202:143,08[' ]| which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her tribute 202:143,09[' ]| of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was 202:143,10[' ]| delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted 202:143,11[' ]| with the present Mr%*Darcy's treatment of him, she tried 202:143,12[' ]| to remember something of that gentleman's reputed disposition 202:143,13[' ]| when quite a lad, which might agree with it, and 202:143,14[' ]| was confident at last, that she recollected having heard 202:143,15[' ]| Mr%*Fitzwilliam*Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, 202:143,16[' ]| ill-natured boy. 203:144,01[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner's caution to Elizabeth was punctually 203:144,02[' ]| and kindly given on the first favourable opportunity of 203:144,03[' ]| speaking to her alone; after honestly telling her what 203:144,04[' ]| she thought, she thus went on: 203:144,05[O ]| "You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love 203:144,06[O ]| merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, 203:144,07[O ]| I am not afraid of speaking openly. Seriously, I would 203:144,08[O ]| have you be on your guard. Do not involve yourself, 203:144,09[O ]| or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the 203:144,10[O ]| want of fortune would make so very imprudent. I have 203:144,11[O ]| nothing to say against \him\; he is a most interesting 203:144,12[O ]| young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, 203:144,13[O ]| I should think you could not do better. But as it is ~~ you 203:144,14[O ]| must not let your fancy run away with you. You have 203:144,15[O ]| sense, and we all expect you to use it. Your father would 203:144,16[O ]| depend on \your\ resolution and good conduct, I am sure. 203:144,17[O ]| You must not disappoint your father." 203:144,18[A ]| "My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed." 203:144,19[O ]| "Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise." 203:144,20[O ]| 203:144,21[A ]| "Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will 203:144,22[A ]| take care of myself, and of Mr%*Wickham too. He shall 203:144,23[A ]| not be in love with me, if I can prevent it." 203:144,24[O ]| "Elizabeth, you are not serious now." 203:144,25[A ]| "I beg your pardon. I will try again. At present I am 203:144,26[A ]| not in love with Mr%*Wickham; no, I certainly am not. 203:144,27[A ]| But he is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable 203:144,28[A ]| man I ever saw ~~ and if he becomes really attached to me ~~ 203:144,29[A ]| I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the 203:144,30[A ]| imprudence of it. ~~ Oh! \that\ abominable Mr%*Darcy! ~~ 203:144,31[A ]| My father's opinion of me does me the greatest honor; 203:144,32[A ]| and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, however, 203:144,33[A ]| is partial to Mr%*Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, 203:145,01[A ]| I should be very sorry to be the means of making any 203:145,02[A ]| of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where 203:145,03[A ]| there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by 203:145,04[A ]| immediate want of fortune, from entering into engagements 203:145,05[A ]| with each other, how can I promise to be wiser 203:145,06[A ]| than so many of my fellow creatures if I am tempted, 203:145,07[A ]| or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to 203:145,08[A ]| resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to 203:145,09[A ]| be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself 203:145,10[A ]| his first object. When I am in company with him, I will 203:145,11[A ]| not be wishing. In short, I will do my best." 203:145,12[O ]| "Perhaps it will be as well, if you discourage his coming 203:145,13[O ]| here so very often. At least, you should not \remind\ your 203:145,14[O ]| Mother of inviting him." 203:145,15[A ]| "As I did the other day," 203:145,15[' ]| said Elizabeth, with a conscious 203:145,16[' ]| smile; 203:145,16[A ]| "very true, it will be wise in me to 203:145,17[A ]| refrain from \that\. But do not imagine that he is always 203:145,18[A ]| here so often. It is on your account that he has been so 203:145,19[A ]| frequently invited this week. You know my mother's 203:145,20[A ]| ideas as to the necessity of constant company for her 203:145,21[A ]| friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to 203:145,22[A ]| do what I think to be wisest; and now, I hope you are 203:145,23[A ]| satisfied." 203:145,24[' ]| Her aunt assured her that she was; and Elizabeth 203:145,25[' ]| having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they 203:145,26[' ]| parted; a wonderful instance of advice being given on 203:145,27[' ]| such a point, without being resented. 203:145,28[' ]| Mr%*Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had 203:145,29[' ]| been quitted by the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took 203:145,30[' ]| up his abode with the Lucases, his arrival was no great 203:145,31[' ]| inconvenience to Mrs%*Bennet. His marriage was now 203:145,32[' ]| fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned 203:145,33[' ]| as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say in 203:145,34[' ]| an ill-natured tone that she 203:145,34[D ]| "\wished\ they might be happy." 203:145,35[' ]| Thursday was to be the wedding*day, and on Wednesday 203:145,36[' ]| Miss*Lucas paid her farewell visit; and when she rose 203:145,37[' ]| to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother's ungracious 203:146,01[' ]| and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected 203:146,02[' ]| herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went 203:146,03[' ]| down*stairs together, Charlotte said, 203:146,04[Q ]| "I shall depend on hearing from you very often, 203:146,05[Q ]| Eliza." 203:146,06[A ]| "\That\ you certainly shall." 203:146,07[Q ]| "And I have another favour to ask. Will you come 203:146,08[Q ]| and see me?" 203:146,09[A ]| "We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire." 203:146,10[Q ]| "I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise 203:146,11[Q ]| me, therefore, to come to Hunsford." 203:146,12[' ]| Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little 203:146,13[' ]| pleasure in the visit. 203:146,14[Q ]| "My father and Maria are to come to me in March," 203:146,15[' ]| added Charlotte, 203:146,15[Q ]| "and I hope you will consent to be of 203:146,16[Q ]| the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome to me 203:146,17[Q ]| as either of them." 203:146,18[' ]| The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set 203:146,19[' ]| off for Kent from the church door, and every*body had 203:146,20[' ]| as much to say or to hear on the subject as usual. Elizabeth 203:146,21[' ]| soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence 203:146,22[' ]| was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; 203:146,23[' ]| that it should be equally unreserved was impossible. 203:146,24[' ]| Elizabeth could never address her without feeling that 203:146,25[' ]| all the comfort of intimacy was over, and, though 203:146,26[' ]| determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for 203:146,27[' ]| the sake of what had been, rather than what was. Charlotte's 203:146,28[' ]| first letters were received with a good deal of 203:146,29[' ]| eagerness; there could not but be curiosity to know how 203:146,30[' ]| she would speak of her new home, how she would like 203:146,31[' ]| Lady*Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce 203:146,32[' ]| herself to be; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth 203:146,33[' ]| felt that Charlotte expressed herself on every point 203:146,34[' ]| exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, 203:146,35[' ]| seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing 203:146,36[' ]| which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, 203:146,37[' ]| and roads, were all to her taste, and Lady*Catherine's 203:146,38[' ]| behaviour was most friendly and obliging. 203:147,01[' ]| It was Mr%*Collins's picture of Hunsford and Rosings 203:147,02[' ]| rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she 203:147,03[' ]| must wait for her own visit there, to know the rest. 203:147,04[' ]| Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to 203:147,05[' ]| announce their safe arrival in London; and when she 203:147,06[' ]| wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it would be in her power 203:147,07[' ]| to say something of the Bingleys. 203:147,08[' ]| Her impatience for this second letter was as well 203:147,09[' ]| rewarded as impatience generally is. Jane had been a week 203:147,10[' ]| in town, without either seeing or hearing from Caroline. 203:147,11[' ]| She accounted for it, however, by supposing that her last 203:147,12[' ]| letter to her friend from Longbourn, had by some accident 203:147,13[' ]| been lost. 203:147,14[E ]| "My aunt," 203:147,14[' ]| she continued, 203:147,14[E ]| "is going to-morrow into 203:147,15[E ]| that part of the town, and I shall take the opportunity 203:147,16[E ]| of calling in Grosvenor-street." 203:147,17[' ]| She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had 203:147,18[' ]| seen Miss*Bingley. 203:147,18[E ]| "I did not think Caroline in spirits," 203:147,19[' ]| were her words, 203:147,19[E ]| "but she was very glad to see me, and 203:147,20[E ]| reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to 203:147,21[E ]| London. I was right, therefore; my last letter had never 203:147,22[E ]| reached her. I enquired after their brother, of course. 203:147,23[E ]| He was well, but so much engaged with Mr%*Darcy, that 203:147,24[E ]| they scarcely ever saw him. I found that Miss*Darcy 203:147,25[E ]| was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My 203:147,26[E ]| visit was not long, as Caroline and Mrs%*Hurst were going 203:147,27[E ]| out. I dare say I shall soon see them here." 203:147,28[' ]| Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced 203:147,29[' ]| her, that accident only could discover to Mr%*Bingley 203:147,30[' ]| her sister's being in town. 203:147,31[' ]| Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. 203:147,32[' ]| She endeavoured to persuade herself that she did not 203:147,33[' ]| regret it; but she could no longer be blind to Miss*Bingley's 203:147,34[' ]| inattention. After waiting at home every morning for 203:147,35[' ]| a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse 203:147,36[' ]| for her, the visitor did at last appear; but the shortness 203:147,37[' ]| of her stay, and yet more, the alteration of her manner, 203:147,38[' ]| would allow Jane to deceive herself no longer. The letter 203:148,01[' ]| which she wrote on this occasion to her sister, will prove 203:148,02[' ]| what she felt. 203:148,03[' ]| 203:148,04[E ]| "My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of 203:148,05[E ]| triumphing in her better judgment, at my expense, when 203:148,06[E ]| I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss*Bingley's 203:148,07[E ]| regard for me. But, my dear sister, though 203:148,08[E ]| the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate 203:148,09[E ]| if I still assert, that, considering what her behaviour was, 203:148,10[E ]| my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do 203:148,11[E ]| not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate 203:148,12[E ]| with me, but if the same circumstances were to happen 203:148,13[E ]| again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline 203:148,14[E ]| did not return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, 203:148,15[E ]| not a line, did I receive in the mean*time. When she did 203:148,16[E ]| come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; 203:148,17[E ]| she made a slight, formal, apology, for not calling before, 203:148,18[E ]| said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in 203:148,19[E ]| every respect so altered a creature, that when she went 203:148,20[E ]| away, I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance 203:148,21[E ]| no longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming her. 203:148,22[E ]| She was very wrong in singling me out as she did; I can 203:148,23[E ]| safely say, that every advance to intimacy began on her 203:148,24[E ]| side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has 203:148,25[E ]| been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that 203:148,26[E ]| anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need not 203:148,27[E ]| explain myself farther; and though \we\ know this anxiety 203:148,28[E ]| to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily account 203:148,29[E ]| for her behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he 203:148,30[E ]| is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may feel on his 203:148,31[E ]| behalf, is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, 203:148,32[E ]| however, at her having any such fears now, because, if 203:148,33[E ]| he had at all cared about me, we must have met long, 203:148,34[E ]| long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am certain, 203:148,35[E ]| from something she said herself; and yet it should seem 203:148,36[E ]| by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade 203:148,37[E ]| herself that he is really partial to Miss*Darcy. I cannot 203:148,38[E ]| understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, 203:149,01[E ]| I should be almost tempted to say, that there is a strong 203:149,02[E ]| appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavour 203:149,03[E ]| to banish every painful thought, and think only of what 203:149,04[E ]| will make me happy, your affection, and the invariable 203:149,05[E ]| kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from 203:149,06[E ]| you very soon. Miss*Bingley said something of his never 203:149,07[E ]| returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, 203:149,08[E ]| but not with any certainty. We had better not mention it. 203:149,09[E ]| I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts 203:149,10[E ]| from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with 203:149,11[E ]| Sir*William and Maria. I am sure you will be very 203:149,12[E ]| comfortable there. 203:149,13[E ]| "Your's, &c%" 203:149,14[E ]| 203:149,15[' ]| This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits 203:149,16[' ]| returned as she considered that 203:149,16@a | Jane would no longer be 203:149,17@a | duped, by the sister at least. All expectation from the 203:149,18@a | brother was now absolutely over. She would not even 203:149,19@a | wish for any renewal of his attentions. His character 203:149,20@a | sunk on every review of it; and as a punishment for 203:149,21@a | him, as well as a possible advantage to Jane, she seriously 203:149,22@a | hoped he might really soon marry Mr%*Darcy's sister, as, 203:149,23@a | by Wickham's account, she would make him abundantly 203:149,24@a | regret what he had thrown away. 203:149,25[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of 203:149,26[' ]| her promise concerning that gentleman, and required 203:149,27[' ]| information; and Elizabeth had such to send as might 203:149,28[' ]| rather give contentment to her aunt than to herself. 203:149,29[' ]| His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were 203:149,30[' ]| over, he was the admirer of some*one else. Elizabeth 203:149,31[' ]| was watchful enough to see it all, but she could see it 203:149,32[' ]| and write of it without material pain. Her heart had 203:149,33[' ]| been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied 203:149,34[' ]| with believing that \she\ would have been his only choice, 203:149,35[' ]| had fortune permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten 203:149,36[' ]| thousand pounds was the most remarkable charm of the 203:149,37[' ]| young lady, to whom he was now rendering himself agreeable; 203:149,38[' ]| but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in his 203:150,01[' ]| case than in Charlotte's, did not quarrel with him for his 203:150,02[' ]| wish of independence. 203:150,02@a | Nothing, on the contrary, could 203:150,03@a | be more natural; 203:150,03[' ]| and while able to suppose that it cost 203:150,04[' ]| him a few struggles to relinquish her, she was ready to 203:150,05[' ]| allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could 203:150,06[' ]| very sincerely wish him happy. 203:150,07[' ]| All this was acknowledged to Mrs%*Gardiner; and after 203:150,08[' ]| relating the circumstances, she thus went on; ~~ 203:150,08[A ]| "I am 203:150,09[A ]| now convinced, my dear aunt, that I have never been much 203:150,10[A ]| in love; for had I really experienced that pure and 203:150,11[A ]| elevating passion, I should at present detest his very 203:150,12[A ]| name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings 203:150,13[A ]| are not only cordial towards \him\; they are even impartial 203:150,14[A ]| towards Miss*King. I cannot find out that I hate her 203:150,15[A ]| at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her 203:150,16[A ]| a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. 203:150,17[A ]| My watchfulness has been effectual; and though I should 203:150,18[A ]| certainly be a more interesting object to all my acquaintance, 203:150,19[A ]| were I distractedly in love with him, I cannot say 203:150,20[A ]| that I regret my comparative insignificance. Importance 203:150,21[A ]| may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia 203:150,22[A ]| take his defection much more to heart than I do. They are 203:150,23[A ]| young in the ways of the world, and not yet open to the 203:150,24[A ]| mortifying conviction that handsome young men must 203:150,25[A ]| have something to live on, as well as the plain." 204:151,01[' ]| With no greater events than these in the Longbourn 204:151,02[' ]| family, and otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks 204:151,03[' ]| to Meryton, sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did 204:151,04[' ]| January and February pass away. March was to take 204:151,05[' ]| Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very 204:151,06[' ]| seriously of going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, 204:151,07[' ]| was depending on the plan, and she gradually learned to 204:151,08[' ]| consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as greater 204:151,09[' ]| certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing 204:151,10[' ]| Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr%*Collins. 204:151,11[' ]| There was novelty in the scheme, and as, with such a 204:151,12[' ]| mother and such uncompanionable sisters, home could 204:151,13[' ]| not be faultless, a little change was not unwelcome for 204:151,14[' ]| its own sake. The journey would moreover give her a peep 204:151,15[' ]| at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would 204:151,16[' ]| have been very sorry for any delay. Every*thing, however, 204:151,17[' ]| went on smoothly, and was finally settled according to 204:151,18[' ]| Charlotte's first sketch. She was to accompany Sir*William 204:151,19[' ]| and his second daughter. The improvement of spending 204:151,20[' ]| a night in London was added in time, and the plan became 204:151,21[' ]| perfect as plan could be. 204:151,22[' ]| The only pain was in leaving her father, who would 204:151,23[' ]| certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, 204:151,24[' ]| so little liked her going, that he told her to write to him, 204:151,25[' ]| and almost promised to answer her letter. 204:151,26[' ]| The farewell between herself and Mr%*Wickham was 204:151,27[' ]| perfectly friendly; on his side even more. His present 204:151,28[' ]| pursuit could not make him forget that Elizabeth had 204:151,29[' ]| been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the 204:151,30[' ]| first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and 204:151,31[' ]| in his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing her every 204:151,32[' ]| enjoyment, reminding her of what she was to expect in 204:151,33[' ]| Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh, and trusting their opinion of 204:152,01[' ]| her ~~ their opinion of every*body ~~ would always coincide, 204:152,02[' ]| there was a solicitude, an interest which she felt must 204:152,03[' ]| ever attach her to him with a most sincere regard; and 204:152,04[' ]| she parted from him convinced, that whether married or 204:152,05[' ]| single, he must always be her model of the amiable and 204:152,06[' ]| pleasing. 204:152,07[' ]| Her fellow-travellers the next day, were not of a kind 204:152,08[' ]| to make her think him less agreeable. Sir*William*Lucas, 204:152,09[' ]| and his daughter Maria, a good*humoured girl, but as 204:152,10[' ]| empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say that could 204:152,11[' ]| be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much 204:152,12[' ]| delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved 204:152,13[' ]| absurdities, but she had known Sir*William's too long. 204:152,14[' ]| He could tell her nothing new of the wonders of his 204:152,15[' ]| presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were worn 204:152,16[' ]| out like his information. 204:152,17[' ]| It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they 204:152,18[' ]| began it so early as to be in Gracechurch-street by noon. 204:152,19[' ]| As they drove to Mr%*Gardiner's door, Jane was at a 204:152,20[' ]| drawing-room window watching their arrival; when they 204:152,21[' ]| entered the passage she was there to welcome them, and 204:152,22[' ]| Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see 204:152,23[' ]| it healthful and lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of 204:152,24[' ]| little boys and girls, whose eagerness for their cousin's 204:152,25[' ]| appearance would not allow them to wait in the drawing-room, 204:152,26[' ]| and whose shyness, as they had not seen her for a 204:152,27[' ]| twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy 204:152,28[' ]| and kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; 204:152,29[' ]| the morning in bustle and shopping, and the evening at 204:152,30[' ]| one of the theatres. 204:152,31[' ]| Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their 204:152,32[' ]| first subject was her sister; and she was more grieved 204:152,33[' ]| than astonished to hear, in reply to her minute enquiries, 204:152,34[' ]| that though Jane always struggled to support her spirits, 204:152,35[' ]| there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, 204:152,36[' ]| to hope, that they would not continue long. Mrs%*Gardiner 204:152,37[' ]| gave her the particulars also of Miss*Bingley's 204:152,38[' ]| visit in Gracechurch-street, and repeated conversations 204:153,01[' ]| occurring at different times between Jane and herself, 204:153,02[' ]| which proved that the former had, from her heart, given 204:153,03[' ]| up the acquaintance. 204:153,04[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham's 204:153,05[' ]| desertion, and complimented her on bearing it so well. 204:153,06[O ]| "But, my dear Elizabeth," 204:153,06[' ]| she added, 204:153,06[O ]| "what sort of 204:153,07[O ]| girl is Miss*King? I should be sorry to think our friend 204:153,08[O ]| mercenary." 204:153,09[A ]| "Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial 204:153,10[A ]| affairs, between the mercenary and the prudent 204:153,11[A ]| motive? Where does discretion end, and avarice begin? 204:153,12[A ]| Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me, 204:153,13[A ]| because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is 204:153,14[A ]| trying to get a girl with only ten thousand pounds, you 204:153,15[A ]| want to find out that he is mercenary." 204:153,16[O ]| "If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss*King is, 204:153,17[O ]| I shall know what to think." 204:153,18[A ]| "She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no 204:153,19[A ]| harm of her." 204:153,20[O ]| "But he paid her not the smallest attention, till her 204:153,21[O ]| grandfather's death made her mistress of this fortune." 204:153,22[A ]| "No ~~ why should he? If it was not allowable for 204:153,23[A ]| him to gain \my\ affections, because I had no money, what 204:153,24[A ]| occasion could there be for making love to a girl whom 204:153,25[A ]| he did not care about, and who was equally poor?" 204:153,26[O ]| "But there seems indelicacy in directing his attentions 204:153,27[O ]| towards her, so soon after this event." 204:153,28[A ]| "A man in distressed circumstances has not time for 204:153,29[A ]| all those elegant decorums which other people may 204:153,30[A ]| observe. If \she\ does not object to it, why should \we\?" 204:153,31[O ]| "\Her\ not objecting, does not justify \him\. It only 204:153,32[O ]| shews her being deficient in something herself ~~ sense or 204:153,33[O ]| feeling." 204:153,34[A ]| "Well," 204:153,34[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 204:153,34[A ]| "have it as you choose. \He\ 204:153,35[A ]| shall be mercenary, and \she\ shall be foolish." 204:153,36[O ]| "No, Lizzy, that is what I do \not\ choose. I should be 204:153,37[O ]| sorry, you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived 204:153,38[O ]| so long in Derbyshire." 204:154,01[A ]| "Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young 204:154,02[A ]| men who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends 204:154,03[A ]| who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick 204:154,04[A ]| of them all. Thank Heaven! I am going to-morrow where 204:154,05[A ]| I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who 204:154,06[A ]| has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid 204:154,07[A ]| men are the only ones worth knowing, after all." 204:154,08[O ]| "Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of 204:154,09[O ]| disappointment." 204:154,10[' ]| Before they were separated by the conclusion of the 204:154,11[' ]| play, she had the unexpected happiness of an invitation 204:154,12[' ]| to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure 204:154,13[' ]| which they proposed taking in the summer. 204:154,14[O ]| "We have not quite determined how far it shall carry 204:154,15[O ]| us," 204:154,15[' ]| said Mrs%*Gardiner, 204:154,16[O ]| "but perhaps to the Lakes." 204:154,17[' ]| No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, 204:154,18[' ]| and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and 204:154,19[' ]| grateful. 204:154,19[A ]| "My dear, dear aunt," 204:154,19[' ]| she rapturously cried, 204:154,20[A ]| "what delight! what felicity! You give me fresh life 204:154,21[A ]| and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What 204:154,22[A ]| are men to rocks and mountains? Oh! what hours of 204:154,23[A ]| transport we shall spend! And when we \do\ return, it shall 204:154,24[A ]| not be like other travellers, without being able to give 204:154,25[A ]| one accurate idea of any*thing. We \will\ know where we 204:154,26[A ]| have gone ~~ we \will\ recollect what we have seen. Lakes, 204:154,27[A ]| mountains, and rivers, shall not be jumbled together in our 204:154,28[A ]| imaginations; nor, when we attempt to describe any 204:154,29[A ]| particular scene, will we begin quarrelling about its relative 204:154,30[A ]| situation. Let \our\ first effusions be less insupportable 204:154,31[A ]| than those of the generality of travellers." 205:155,01[' ]| Every object in the next day's journey was new and 205:155,02[' ]| interesting to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state 205:155,03[' ]| for enjoyment; for she had seen her sister looking so well 205:155,04[' ]| as to banish all fear for her health, and the prospect of her 205:155,05[' ]| northern tour was a constant source of delight. 205:155,06[' ]| When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, 205:155,07[' ]| every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every 205:155,08[' ]| turning expected to bring it in view. The paling of Rosings*Park 205:155,09[' ]| was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled 205:155,10[' ]| at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants. 205:155,11[' ]| 205:155,12[' ]| At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden 205:155,13[' ]| sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green 205:155,14[' ]| pales and the laurel hedge, every*thing declared they 205:155,15[' ]| were arriving. Mr%*Collins and Charlotte appeared at the 205:155,16[' ]| door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate, which 205:155,17[' ]| led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods 205:155,18[' ]| and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were 205:155,19[' ]| all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. 205:155,20[' ]| Mrs%*Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, 205:155,21[' ]| and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming, 205:155,22[' ]| when she found herself so affectionately received. She 205:155,23[' ]| saw instantly that her cousin's manners were not altered 205:155,24[' ]| by his marriage; his formal civility was just what it had 205:155,25[' ]| been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to 205:155,26[' ]| hear and satisfy his enquiries after all her family. They 205:155,27[' ]| were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the 205:155,28[' ]| neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as 205:155,29[' ]| soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a 205:155,30[' ]| second time with ostentatious formality to his humble 205:155,31[' ]| abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of 205:155,32[' ]| refreshment. 205:155,33[' ]| Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and 205:156,01[' ]| she could not help fancying that in displaying the good 205:156,02[' ]| proportion of the room, its aspect and its furniture, he 205:156,03[' ]| addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to 205:156,04[' ]| make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But 205:156,05[' ]| though every*thing seemed neat and comfortable, she 205:156,06[' ]| was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance; 205:156,07[' ]| and rather looked with wonder at her friend that she 205:156,08[' ]| could have so cheerful an air, with such a companion. 205:156,09[' ]| When Mr%*Collins said any*thing of which his wife might 205:156,10[' ]| reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, 205:156,11[' ]| she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or 205:156,12[' ]| twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general 205:156,13[' ]| Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough 205:156,14[' ]| to admire every article of furniture in the room, from the 205:156,15[' ]| sideboard to the fender, to give an account of their journey 205:156,16[' ]| and of all that had happened in London, Mr%*Collins 205:156,17[' ]| invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large 205:156,18[' ]| and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he 205:156,19[' ]| attended himself. To work in his garden was one of his 205:156,20[' ]| most respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the 205:156,21[' ]| command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of 205:156,22[' ]| the healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she encouraged 205:156,23[' ]| it as much as possible. Here, leading the way through 205:156,24[' ]| every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an 205:156,25[' ]| interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was 205:156,26[' ]| pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely 205:156,27[' ]| behind. He could number the fields in every direction, 205:156,28[' ]| and could tell how many trees there were in the most 205:156,29[' ]| distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, 205:156,30[' ]| or which the country, or the kingdom could boast, none 205:156,31[' ]| were to be compared with the prospect of Rosings, afforded 205:156,32[' ]| by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearly 205:156,33[' ]| opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome 205:156,34[' ]| modern building, well situated on rising ground. 205:156,35[' ]| From his garden, Mr%*Collins would have led them round 205:156,36[' ]| his two meadows, but the ladies not having shoes to 205:156,37[' ]| encounter the remains of the white frost, turned back; and 205:156,38[' ]| while Sir*William accompanied him, Charlotte took her 205:157,01[' ]| sister and friend over the house, extremely well*pleased, 205:157,02[' ]| probably, to have the opportunity of shewing it without 205:157,03[' ]| her husband's help. It was rather small, but well built 205:157,04[' ]| and convenient; and every*thing was fitted up and 205:157,05[' ]| arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth 205:157,06[' ]| gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr%*Collins 205:157,07[' ]| could be forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort 205:157,08[' ]| throughout, and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, 205:157,09[' ]| Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten. 205:157,10[' ]| She had already learnt that Lady*Catherine was still 205:157,11[' ]| in the country. It was spoken of again while they were 205:157,12[' ]| at dinner, when Mr%*Collins joining in, observed, 205:157,13[K ]| "Yes, Miss*Elizabeth, you will have the honour of 205:157,14[K ]| seeing Lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday 205:157,15[K ]| at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with 205:157,16[K ]| her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not 205:157,17[K ]| but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice 205:157,18[K ]| when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying 205:157,19[K ]| that she will include you and my sister Maria in every 205:157,20[K ]| invitation with which she honours us during your stay 205:157,21[K ]| here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. 205:157,22[K ]| We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never 205:157,23[K ]| allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly 205:157,24[K ]| ordered for us. I \should\ say, one of her ladyship's carriages, 205:157,25[K ]| for she has several." 205:157,26[Q ]| "Lady*Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman 205:157,27[Q ]| indeed," 205:157,27[' ]| added Charlotte, 205:157,27[Q ]| "and a most attentive neighbour." 205:157,28[Q ] 205:157,29[K ]| "Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She 205:157,30[K ]| is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too 205:157,31[K ]| much deference." 205:157,32[' ]| The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire 205:157,33[' ]| news, and telling again what had been already 205:157,34[' ]| written; and when it closed, Elizabeth in the solitude 205:157,35[' ]| of her chamber had to meditate upon Charlotte's degree 205:157,36[' ]| of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, 205:157,37[' ]| and composure in bearing with her husband, and to 205:157,38[' ]| acknowledge that it was all done very well. She had also 205:158,01[' ]| to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor 205:158,02[' ]| of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions 205:158,03[' ]| of Mr%*Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with 205:158,04[' ]| Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all. 205:158,05[' ]| About the middle of the next day, as she was in her 205:158,06[' ]| room getting ready for the walk, a sudden noise below 205:158,07[' ]| seemed to speak the whole house in confusion; and after 205:158,08[' ]| listening a moment, she heard somebody running up*stairs 205:158,09[' ]| in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She 205:158,10[' ]| opened the door, and met Maria in the landing*place, who, 205:158,11[' ]| breathless with agitation, cried out, 205:158,12[V ]| "Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come 205:158,13[V ]| into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! 205:158,14[V ]| I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down 205:158,15[V ]| this moment." 205:158,16[' ]| Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell 205:158,17[' ]| her nothing more, and down they ran into the dining-room, 205:158,18[' ]| which fronted the lane, in quest of this wonder; 205:158,19[' ]| it was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden 205:158,20[' ]| gate. 205:158,21[A ]| "And is this all?" 205:158,21[' ]| cried Elizabeth. 205:158,21[A ]| "I expected at 205:158,22[A ]| least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is 205:158,23[A ]| nothing but Lady*Catherine and her daughter!" 205:158,24[V ]| "La! my dear," 205:158,24[' ]| said Maria quite shocked at the 205:158,25[' ]| mistake, 205:158,25[V ]| "it is not Lady*Catherine. The old lady is 205:158,26[V ]| Mrs%*Jenkinson, who lives with them. The other is Miss*De*Bourgh. 205:158,27[V ]| Only look at her. She is quite a little 205:158,28[V ]| creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin 205:158,29[V ]| and small!" 205:158,30[A ]| "She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors 205:158,31[A ]| in all this wind. Why does she not come in?" 205:158,32[V ]| "Oh! Charlotte says, she hardly ever does. It is the 205:158,33[V ]| greatest of favours when Miss*De*Bourgh comes in." 205:158,34[A ]| "I like her appearance," 205:158,34[' ]| said Elizabeth, struck with 205:158,35[' ]| other ideas. 205:158,35[A ]| "She looks sickly and cross. ~~ Yes, she will 205:158,36[A ]| do for him very well. She will make him a very proper 205:158,37[A ]| wife." 205:158,38[' ]| Mr%*Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the 205:159,01[' ]| gate in conversation with the ladies; and Sir*William, 205:159,02[' ]| to Elizabeth's high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, 205:159,03[' ]| in earnest contemplation of the greatness before 205:159,04[' ]| him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss*De*Bourgh 205:159,05[' ]| looked that way. 205:159,06[' ]| At length there was nothing more to be said; the 205:159,07[' ]| ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. 205:159,08[' ]| Mr%*Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began 205:159,09[' ]| to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte 205:159,10[' ]| explained by letting them know that the whole 205:159,11[' ]| party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day. 206:160,01[' ]| Mr%*Collins's triumph in consequence of this invitation 206:160,02[' ]| was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of 206:160,03[' ]| his patroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them 206:160,04[' ]| see her civility towards himself and his wife, was exactly 206:160,05[' ]| what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of 206:160,06[' ]| doing it should be given so soon, was such an instance of 206:160,07[' ]| Lady*Catherine's condescension as he knew not how to 206:160,08[' ]| admire enough. 206:160,09[K ]| "I confess," 206:160,09[' ]| said he, 206:160,09[K ]| "that I should not have been at 206:160,10[K ]| all surprised by her Ladyship's asking us on Sunday to 206:160,11[K ]| drink tea and spend the evening at Rosings. I rather 206:160,12[K ]| expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it 206:160,13[K ]| would happen. But who could have foreseen such an 206:160,14[K ]| attention as this? Who could have imagined that we 206:160,15[K ]| should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation 206:160,16[K ]| moreover including the whole party) so immediately after 206:160,17[K ]| your arrival!" 206:160,18[R ]| "I am the less surprised at what has happened," 206:160,19[' ]| replied Sir*William, 206:160,19[R ]| "from the knowledge of what the 206:160,20[R ]| manners of the great really are, which my situation in 206:160,21[R ]| life has allowed me to acquire. About the Court, such 206:160,22[R ]| instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon." 206:160,23[' ]| Scarcely any*thing was talked of the whole day or next 206:160,24[' ]| morning, but their visit to Rosings. Mr%*Collins was 206:160,25[' ]| carefully instructing them in what they were to expect, 206:160,26[' ]| that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and so 206:160,27[' ]| splendid a dinner might not wholly overpower them. 206:160,28[' ]| When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said 206:160,29[' ]| to Elizabeth. 206:160,30[K ]| "Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about 206:160,31[K ]| your apparel. Lady*Catherine is far from requiring that 206:160,32[K ]| elegance of dress in us, which becomes herself and daughter. 206:160,33[K ]| I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your 206:161,01[K ]| clothes is superior to the rest, there is no occasion for 206:161,02[K ]| any*thing more. Lady*Catherine will not think the worse 206:161,03[K ]| of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the 206:161,04[K ]| distinction of rank preserved." 206:161,05[' ]| While they were dressing, he came two or three times 206:161,06[' ]| to their different doors, to recommend their being quick, 206:161,07[' ]| as Lady*Catherine very much objected to be kept waiting 206:161,08[' ]| for her dinner. ~~ Such formidable accounts of her Ladyship, 206:161,09[' ]| and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria*Lucas, 206:161,10[' ]| who had been little used to company, and she looked 206:161,11[' ]| forward to her introduction at Rosings, with as much 206:161,12[' ]| apprehension, as her father had done to his presentation 206:161,13[' ]| at St%*James's. 206:161,14[' ]| As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of 206:161,15[' ]| about half a mile across the park. ~~ Every park has its 206:161,16[' ]| beauty and its prospects; and Elizabeth saw much to 206:161,17[' ]| be pleased with, though she could not be in such raptures 206:161,18[' ]| as Mr%*Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but 206:161,19[' ]| slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in 206:161,20[' ]| front of the house, and his relation of what the glazing 206:161,21[' ]| altogether had originally cost Sir*Lewis*De*Bourgh. 206:161,22[' ]| When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria's 206:161,23[' ]| alarm was every moment increasing, and even Sir*William 206:161,24[' ]| did not look perfectly calm. ~~ Elizabeth's courage did not 206:161,25[' ]| fail her. 206:161,25@a | She had heard nothing of Lady*Catherine that 206:161,26@a | spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or miraculous 206:161,27@a | virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank, 206:161,28[' ]| she thought 206:161,28@a | she could witness without trepidation. 206:161,29[' ]| From the entrance hall, of which Mr%*Collins pointed 206:161,30[' ]| out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished 206:161,31[' ]| ornaments, they followed the servants through an anti-chamber, 206:161,32[' ]| to the room where Lady*Catherine, her daughter, 206:161,33[' ]| and Mrs%*Jenkinson were sitting. ~~ Her Ladyship, with 206:161,34[' ]| great condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs%*Collins 206:161,35[' ]| had settled it with her husband that the office of 206:161,36[' ]| introduction should be her's, it was performed in a proper 206:161,37[' ]| manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which 206:161,38[' ]| he would have thought necessary. 206:162,01[' ]| In spite of having been at St%*James's, Sir*William was 206:162,02[' ]| so completely awed, by the grandeur surrounding him, that 206:162,03[' ]| he had but just courage enough to make a very low bow, 206:162,04[' ]| and take his seat without saying a word; and his daughter, 206:162,05[' ]| frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge of her 206:162,06[' ]| chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found 206:162,07[' ]| herself quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three 206:162,08[' ]| ladies before her composedly. ~~ Lady*Catherine was a tall, 206:162,09[' ]| large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might 206:162,10[' ]| once have been handsome. Her air was not conciliating, nor 206:162,11[' ]| was her manner of receiving them, such as to make her 206:162,12[' ]| visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered 206:162,13[' ]| formidable by silence; but whatever she said, was spoken 206:162,14[' ]| in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance, 206:162,15[' ]| and brought Mr%*Wickham immediately to Elizabeth's 206:162,16[' ]| mind; and from the observation of the day altogether, 206:162,17[' ]| she believed Lady*Catherine to be exactly what he had 206:162,18[' ]| represented. 206:162,19[' ]| When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance 206:162,20[' ]| and deportment she soon found some resemblance 206:162,21[' ]| of Mr%*Darcy, she turned her eyes on the daughter, she 206:162,22[' ]| could almost have joined in Maria's astonishment, at her 206:162,23[' ]| being so thin, and so small. There was neither in figure 206:162,24[' ]| nor face, any likeness between the ladies. Miss*De*Bourgh 206:162,25[' ]| was pale and sickly; her features, though not plain, were 206:162,26[' ]| insignificant; and she spoke very little, except in a low 206:162,27[' ]| voice, to Mrs%*Jenkinson, in whose appearance there was 206:162,28[' ]| nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in 206:162,29[' ]| listening to what she said, and placing a screen in the 206:162,30[' ]| proper direction before her eyes. 206:162,31[' ]| After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one 206:162,32[' ]| of the windows, to admire the view, Mr%*Collins attending 206:162,33[' ]| them to point out its beauties, and Lady*Catherine kindly 206:162,34[' ]| informing them that it was much better worth looking at 206:162,35[' ]| in the summer. 206:162,36[' ]| The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were 206:162,37[' ]| all the servants, and all the articles of plate which Mr%*Collins 206:162,38[' ]| had promised; and, as he had likewise foretold, 206:163,01[' ]| he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship's 206:163,02[' ]| desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish 206:163,03[' ]| nothing greater. ~~ He carved, and ate, and praised with 206:163,04[' ]| delighted alacrity; and every dish was commended, first 206:163,05[' ]| by him, and then by Sir*William, who was now enough 206:163,06[' ]| recovered to echo whatever his son*in*law said, in a manner 206:163,07[' ]| which Elizabeth wondered Lady*Catherine could bear. 206:163,08[' ]| But Lady*Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive 206:163,09[' ]| admiration, and gave most gracious smiles, especially when 206:163,10[' ]| any dish on the table proved a novelty to them. The 206:163,11[' ]| party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was 206:163,12[' ]| ready to speak whenever there was an opening, but she 206:163,13[' ]| was seated between Charlotte and Miss*De*Bourgh ~~ the 206:163,14[' ]| former of whom was engaged in listening to Lady*Catherine, 206:163,15[' ]| and the latter said not a word to her all dinner*time. 206:163,16[' ]| Mrs%*Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how 206:163,17[' ]| little Miss*De*Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other 206:163,18[' ]| dish, and fearing she were indisposed. Maria thought 206:163,19[' ]| speaking out of the question, and the gentlemen did 206:163,20[' ]| nothing but eat and admire. 206:163,21[' ]| When the ladies returned to the drawing*room, there 206:163,22[' ]| was little to be done but to hear Lady*Catherine talk, 206:163,23[' ]| which she did without any intermission till coffee came 206:163,24[' ]| in, delivering her opinion on every subject in so decisive 206:163,25[' ]| a manner as proved that she was not used to have her 206:163,26[' ]| judgment controverted. She enquired into Charlotte's 206:163,27[' ]| domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her 206:163,28[' ]| a great deal of advice, as to the management of them all; 206:163,29[' ]| told her how every*thing ought to be regulated in so 206:163,30[' ]| small a family as her's, and instructed her as to the care 206:163,31[' ]| of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that 206:163,32[' ]| nothing was beneath this great Lady's attention, which 206:163,33[' ]| could furnish her with an occasion of dictating to others. 206:163,34[' ]| In the intervals of her discourse with Mrs%*Collins, she 206:163,35[' ]| addressed a variety of questions to Maria and Elizabeth, 206:163,36[' ]| but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew 206:163,37[' ]| the least, and who she observed to Mrs%*Collins, was 206:163,37@l | a very 206:163,38@l | genteel, pretty kind of girl. 206:163,38[' ]| She asked her at different 206:164,01[' ]| times, 206:164,01@l | how many sisters she had, whether they were older 206:164,02@l | or younger than herself, whether any of them were likely 206:164,03@l | to be married, whether they were handsome, where they 206:164,04@l | had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and what 206:164,05@l | had been her mother's maiden name? ~~ 206:164,05[' ]| Elizabeth felt all 206:164,06[' ]| the impertinence of her questions, but answered them very 206:164,07[' ]| composedly. ~~ Lady*Catherine then observed, 206:164,08[L ]| "Your father's estate is entailed on Mr%*Collins, I think. 206:164,09[L ]| For your sake," 206:164,09[' ]| turning to Charlotte, 206:164,09[L ]| "I am glad of it; 206:164,10[L ]| but otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from 206:164,11[L ]| the female line. ~~ It was not thought necessary in Sir*Lewis*de*Bourgh's 206:164,12[L ]| family. ~~ Do you play and sing, Miss*Bennet?" 206:164,13[L ]| 206:164,14[A ]| "A little." 206:164,15[L ]| "Oh! then ~~ some time or other we shall be happy to 206:164,16[L ]| hear you. Our instrument is a capital one, probably 206:164,17[L ]| superior to ~~ You shall try it some day. ~~ Do your sisters 206:164,18[L ]| play and sing?" 206:164,19[A ]| "One of them does." 206:164,20[L ]| "Why did not you all learn? ~~ You ought all to have 206:164,21[L ]| learned. The Miss*Webbs all play, and their father has 206:164,22[L ]| not so good an income as your's. ~~ Do you draw?" 206:164,23[A ]| "No, not at all." 206:164,24[L ]| "What, none of you?" 206:164,25[A ]| "Not one." 206:164,26[L ]| "That is very strange. But I suppose you had no 206:164,27[L ]| opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to 206:164,28[L ]| town every spring for the benefit of masters." 206:164,29[A ]| "My mother would have had no objection, but my 206:164,30[A ]| father hates London." 206:164,31[L ]| "Has your governess left you?" 206:164,32[A ]| "We never had any governess." 206:164,33[L ]| "No governess! How was that possible? Five 206:164,34[L ]| daughters brought up at home without a governess! ~~ 206:164,35[L ]| I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have 206:164,36[L ]| been quite a slave to your education." 206:164,37[' ]| Elizabeth could hardly help smiling, as she assured her 206:164,38[' ]| that had not been the case. 206:165,01[L ]| "Then, who taught you? who attended to you? 206:165,02[L ]| Without a governess you must have been neglected." 206:165,03[A ]| "Compared with some families, I believe we were; 206:165,04[A ]| but such of us as wished to learn, never wanted the 206:165,05[A ]| means. We were always encouraged to read, and had 206:165,06[A ]| all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose 206:165,07[A ]| to be idle, certainly might." 206:165,08[L ]| "Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will 206:165,09[L ]| prevent, and if I had known your mother, I should have 206:165,10[L ]| advised her most strenuously to engage one. I always 206:165,11[L ]| say that nothing is to be done in education without steady 206:165,12[L ]| and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can 206:165,13[L ]| give it. It was wonderful how many families I have been 206:165,14[L ]| the means of supplying in that way. I am always glad 206:165,15[L ]| to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces of 206:165,16[L ]| Mrs%*Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my 206:165,17[L ]| means; and it was but the other day, that I recommended 206:165,18[L ]| another young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned 206:165,19[L ]| to me, and the family are quite delighted with her. 206:165,20[L ]| Mrs%*Collins, did I tell you of Lady*Metcalfe's calling 206:165,21[L ]| yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss*Pope a treasure. 206:165,22[L ]| ""Lady*Catherine,"" said she, ""you have given me a treasure."" 206:165,23[L ]| Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss*Bennet?" 206:165,24[A ]| "Yes, Ma'am, all." 206:165,25[L ]| "All! ~~ What, all five out at once? Very odd! ~~ And 206:165,26[L ]| you only the second. ~~ The younger ones out before the 206:165,27[L ]| elder are married! ~~ Your younger sisters must be very 206:165,28[L ]| young?" 206:165,29[A ]| "Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps \she\ is full 206:165,30[A ]| young to be much in company. But really, Ma'am, 206:165,31[A ]| I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters, that 206:165,32[A ]| they should not have their share of society and amusement 206:165,33[A ]| because the elder may not have the means or inclination 206:165,34[A ]| to marry early. ~~ The last born has as good a right to the 206:165,35[A ]| pleasures of youth, as the first. And to be kept back on 206:165,36[A ]| \such\ a motive! ~~ I think it would not be very likely to 206:165,37[A ]| promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind." 206:165,38[L ]| "Upon my word," 206:165,38[' ]| said her Ladyship, 206:165,38[L ]| "you give your 206:166,01[L ]| opinion very decidedly for so young a person. ~~ Pray, what 206:166,02[L ]| is your age?" 206:166,03[A ]| "With three younger sisters grown up," 206:166,03[' ]| replied Elizabeth 206:166,04[' ]| smiling, 206:166,04[A ]| "your Ladyship can hardly expect me to own 206:166,05[A ]| it." 206:166,06[' ]| Lady*Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving 206:166,07[' ]| a direct answer; and Elizabeth suspected herself to be 206:166,08[' ]| the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so 206:166,09[' ]| much dignified impertinence. 206:166,10[L ]| "You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, ~~ therefore 206:166,11[L ]| you need not conceal your age." 206:166,12[A ]| "I am not one*and*twenty." 206:166,13[' ]| When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, 206:166,14[' ]| the card*tables were placed. Lady*Catherine, Sir*William, 206:166,15[' ]| and Mr% and Mrs%*Collins sat down to quadrille; and as 206:166,16[' ]| Miss*De*Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the two girls 206:166,17[' ]| had the honour of assisting Mrs%*Jenkinson to make up 206:166,18[' ]| her party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely 206:166,19[' ]| a syllable was uttered that did not relate to the game, 206:166,20[' ]| except when Mrs%*Jenkinson expressed her fears of Miss*De*Bourgh's 206:166,21[' ]| being too hot or too cold, or having too much 206:166,22[' ]| or too little light. A great deal more passed at the other 206:166,23[' ]| table. Lady*Catherine was generally speaking ~~ stating 206:166,24[' ]| the mistakes of the three others, or relating some anecdote 206:166,25[' ]| of herself. Mr%*Collins was employed in agreeing to 206:166,26[' ]| every*thing her Ladyship said, thanking her for every 206:166,27[' ]| fish he won, and apologising if he thought he won too 206:166,28[' ]| many. Sir*William did not say much. He was storing 206:166,29[' ]| his memory with anecdotes and noble names. 206:166,30[' ]| When Lady*Catherine and her daughter had played as 206:166,31[' ]| long as they chose, the tables were broke up, the carriage 206:166,32[' ]| was offered to Mrs%*Collins, gratefully accepted, and 206:166,33[' ]| immediately ordered. The party then gathered round the 206:166,34[' ]| fire to hear Lady*Catherine determine what weather they 206:166,35[' ]| were to have on the morrow. From these instructions 206:166,36[' ]| they were summoned by the arrival of the coach, and 206:166,37[' ]| with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr%*Collins's side, 206:166,38[' ]| and as many bows on Sir*William's, they departed. As 206:167,01[' ]| soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was 206:167,02[' ]| called on by her cousin, to give her opinion of all that she 206:167,03[' ]| had seen at Rosings, which, for Charlotte's sake, she made 206:167,04[' ]| more favourable than it really was. But her commendation, 206:167,05[' ]| though costing her some trouble, could by no means 206:167,06[' ]| satisfy Mr%*Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take 206:167,07[' ]| her Ladyship's praise into his own hands. 207:168,01[' ]| Sir*William staid only a week at Hunsford; but his 207:168,02[' ]| visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter's 207:168,03[' ]| being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such 207:168,04[' ]| a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met 207:168,05[' ]| with. While Sir*William was with them, Mr%*Collins 207:168,06[' ]| devoted his mornings to driving him out in his gig, and 207:168,07[' ]| shewing him the country; but when he went away, the 207:168,08[' ]| whole family returned to their usual employments, and 207:168,09[' ]| Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more 207:168,10[' ]| of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time 207:168,11[' ]| between breakfast and dinner was now passed by him 207:168,12[' ]| either at work in the garden, or in reading and writing, and 207:168,13[' ]| looking out of window in his own book*room, which fronted 207:168,14[' ]| the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. 207:168,15[' ]| Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should 207:168,16[' ]| not prefer the dining*parlour for common use; it was 207:168,17[' ]| a better sized room, and had a pleasanter aspect; but 207:168,18[' ]| she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for 207:168,19[' ]| what she did, for Mr%*Collins would undoubtedly have been 207:168,20[' ]| much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one 207:168,21[' ]| equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for the 207:168,22[' ]| arrangement. 207:168,23[' ]| From the drawing*room they could distinguish nothing 207:168,24[' ]| in the lane, and were indebted to Mr%*Collins for the 207:168,25[' ]| knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often 207:168,26[' ]| especially Miss*De*Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which 207:168,27[' ]| he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened 207:168,28[' ]| almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped 207:168,29[' ]| at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes' conversation 207:168,30[' ]| with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed on to 207:168,31[' ]| get out. 207:168,32[' ]| Very few days passed in which Mr%*Collins did not walk 207:168,33[' ]| to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think 207:169,01[' ]| it necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected 207:169,02[' ]| that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, 207:169,03[' ]| she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. 207:169,04[' ]| Now and then, they were honoured with a call from her 207:169,05[' ]| Ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation that was 207:169,06[' ]| passing in the room during these visits. She examined 207:169,07[' ]| into their employments, looked at their work, and advised 207:169,08[' ]| them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement 207:169,09[' ]| of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in 207:169,10[' ]| negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed 207:169,11[' ]| to do it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs%*Collins's 207:169,12[' ]| joints of meat were too large for her family. 207:169,13[' ]| Elizabeth soon perceived that though this great lady 207:169,14[' ]| was not in the commission of the peace for the county, 207:169,15[' ]| she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the 207:169,16[' ]| minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr%*Collins; 207:169,17[' ]| and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed 207:169,18[' ]| to be quarrelsome, discontented or too poor, she sallied 207:169,19[' ]| forth into the village to settle their differences, silence 207:169,20[' ]| their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty. 207:169,21[' ]| The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated 207:169,22[' ]| about twice a week; and, allowing for the loss of Sir*William, 207:169,23[' ]| and there being only one card*table in the 207:169,24[' ]| evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart 207:169,25[' ]| of the first. Their other engagements were few; as the 207:169,26[' ]| style of living of the neighbourhood in general, was 207:169,27[' ]| beyond the Collinses' reach. This however was no evil 207:169,28[' ]| to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time 207:169,29[' ]| comfortably enough; there were half hours of pleasant 207:169,30[' ]| conversation with Charlotte, and the weather was so fine 207:169,31[' ]| for the time of year, that she had often great enjoyment 207:169,32[' ]| out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently 207:169,33[' ]| went while the others were calling on Lady*Catherine, 207:169,34[' ]| was along the open grove which edged that 207:169,35[' ]| side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, 207:169,36[' ]| which no*one seemed to value but herself, and where she 207:169,37[' ]| felt beyond the reach of Lady*Catherine's curiosity. 207:169,38[' ]| In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon 207:170,01[' ]| passed away. Easter was approaching, and the week 207:170,02[' ]| preceding it, was to bring an addition to the family at 207:170,03[' ]| Rosings, which in so small a circle must be important. 207:170,04[' ]| Elizabeth had heard soon after her arrival, that Mr%*Darcy 207:170,05[' ]| was expected there in the course of a few weeks, and 207:170,06@a | though there were not many of her acquaintance whom 207:170,07@a | she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one comparatively 207:170,08@a | new to look at in their Rosings parties, and she 207:170,09@a | might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss*Bingley's 207:170,10@a | designs on him were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for 207:170,11@a | whom he was evidently destined by Lady*Catherine; 207:170,12@a | who talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction, 207:170,13@a | spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and 207:170,14@a | seemed almost angry to find that he had already been 207:170,15@a | frequently seen by Miss*Lucas and herself. 207:170,16[' ]| His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage, for 207:170,17[' ]| Mr%*Collins was walking the whole morning within view 207:170,18[' ]| of the lodges opening into Hunsford*Lane, in order to 207:170,19[' ]| have the earliest assurance of it; and after making his 207:170,20[' ]| bow as the carriage turned into the Park, hurried home 207:170,21[' ]| with the great intelligence. On the following morning 207:170,22[' ]| he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were 207:170,23[' ]| two nephews of Lady*Catherine to require them, for 207:170,24[' ]| Mr%*Darcy had brought with him a Colonel*Fitzwilliam, 207:170,25[' ]| the younger son of his uncle, Lord***** and to the great 207:170,26[' ]| surprise of all the party, when Mr%*Collins returned the 207:170,27[' ]| gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them 207:170,28[' ]| from her husband's room, crossing the road, and immediately 207:170,29[' ]| running into the other, told the girls what an 207:170,30[' ]| honour they might expect, adding, 207:170,31[Q ]| "I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. 207:170,32[Q ]| Mr%*Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon 207:170,33[Q ]| me." 207:170,34[' ]| Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to 207:170,35[' ]| the compliment, before their approach was announced by 207:170,36[' ]| the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen 207:170,37[' ]| entered the room. Colonel*Fitzwilliam, who led the way, 207:170,38[' ]| was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address 207:171,01[' ]| most truly the gentleman. Mr%*Darcy looked just as he 207:171,02[' ]| had been used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, 207:171,03[' ]| with his usual reserve, to Mrs%*Collins; and 207:171,04[' ]| whatever might be his feelings towards her friend, met 207:171,05[' ]| her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth 207:171,06[' ]| merely curtseyed to him, without saying a word. 207:171,07[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly 207:171,08[' ]| with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked 207:171,09[' ]| very pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed 207:171,10[' ]| a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs%*Collins, 207:171,11[' ]| sat for some time without speaking to any*body. 207:171,12[' ]| At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as 207:171,13[' ]| to enquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. 207:171,14[' ]| She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment's 207:171,15[' ]| pause, added, 207:171,16[A ]| "My eldest sister has been in town these three months. 207:171,17[A ]| Have you never happened to see her there?" 207:171,18[' ]| She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she 207:171,19[' ]| wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness 207:171,20[' ]| of what had passed between the Bingleys and Jane; and 207:171,21[' ]| she thought he looked a little confused as he answered 207:171,22[' ]| that 207:171,22@b | he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss*Bennet. 207:171,23[' ]| The subject was pursued no farther, and the 207:171,24[' ]| gentlemen soon afterwards went away. 208:172,01[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired 208:172,02[' ]| at the parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he 208:172,03[' ]| must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements 208:172,04[' ]| at Rosings. It was some days, however, before 208:172,05[' ]| they received any invitation thither, for while there were 208:172,06[' ]| visitors in the house, they could not be necessary; and 208:172,07[' ]| it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen's 208:172,08[' ]| arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, 208:172,09[' ]| and then they were merely asked on leaving church 208:172,10[' ]| to come there in the evening. For the last week they had 208:172,11[' ]| seen very little of either Lady*Catherine or her daughter. 208:172,12[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam had called at the parsonage more than 208:172,13[' ]| once during the time, but Mr%*Darcy they had only seen 208:172,14[' ]| at church. 208:172,15[' ]| The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper 208:172,16[' ]| hour they joined the party in Lady*Catherine's drawing*room. 208:172,17[' ]| Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was 208:172,18[' ]| plain that their company was by no means so acceptable 208:172,19[' ]| as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, 208:172,20[' ]| almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, 208:172,21[' ]| especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person 208:172,22[' ]| in the room. 208:172,23[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; 208:172,24[' ]| any*thing was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and 208:172,25[' ]| Mrs%*Collins's pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy 208:172,26[' ]| very much. He now seated himself by her, and talked 208:172,27[' ]| so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and 208:172,28[' ]| staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth 208:172,29[' ]| had never been half so well entertained in that room before; 208:172,30[' ]| and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to 208:172,31[' ]| draw the attention of Lady*Catherine herself, as well as 208:172,32[' ]| of Mr%*Darcy. \His\ eyes had been soon and repeatedly 208:172,33[' ]| turned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that 208:173,01[' ]| her ladyship after a while shared the feeling, was more 208:173,02[' ]| openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out, 208:173,03[L ]| "What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is 208:173,04[L ]| it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss*Bennet? 208:173,05[L ]| Let me hear what it is." 208:173,06[M ]| "We are speaking of music, Madam," 208:173,06[' ]| said he, when 208:173,07[' ]| no longer able to avoid a reply. 208:173,08[L ]| "Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all 208:173,09[L ]| subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, 208:173,10[L ]| if you are speaking of music. There are few 208:173,11[L ]| people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment 208:173,12[L ]| of music than myself, or a better natural taste. 208:173,13[L ]| If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. 208:173,14[L ]| And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. 208:173,15[L ]| I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. 208:173,16[L ]| How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?" 208:173,17[' ]| Mr%*Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's 208:173,18[' ]| proficiency. 208:173,19[L ]| "I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," 208:173,20[' ]| said Lady*Catherine; 208:173,20[L ]| "and pray tell her from me, that 208:173,21[L ]| she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practise a great 208:173,22[L ]| deal." 208:173,23[B ]| "I assure you, Madam," 208:173,23[' ]| he replied, 208:173,23[B ]| "that she does 208:173,24[B ]| not need such advice. She practises very constantly." 208:173,25[L ]| "So much the better. It cannot be done too much; 208:173,26[L ]| and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to 208:173,27[L ]| neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, 208:173,28[L ]| that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without 208:173,29[L ]| constant practice. I have told Miss*Bennet several times, 208:173,30[L ]| that she will never play really well, unless she practises 208:173,31[L ]| more; and though Mrs%*Collins has no instrument, she 208:173,32[L ]| is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to 208:173,33[L ]| Rosings every day, and play on the piano*forte in Mrs%*Jenkinson's 208:173,34[L ]| room. She would be in nobody's way, you 208:173,35[L ]| know, in that part of the house." 208:173,36[' ]| Mr%*Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's ill*breeding, 208:173,37[' ]| and made no answer. 208:173,38[' ]| When coffee was over, Colonel*Fitzwilliam reminded 208:174,01[' ]| Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she 208:174,02[' ]| sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair 208:174,03[' ]| near her. Lady*Catherine listened to half a song, and 208:174,04[' ]| then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the 208:174,05[' ]| latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual 208:174,06[' ]| deliberation towards the piano*forte, stationed himself so 208:174,07[' ]| as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. 208:174,08[' ]| Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the 208:174,09[' ]| first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, 208:174,10[' ]| and said, 208:174,11[A ]| "You mean to frighten me, Mr%*Darcy, by coming in 208:174,12[A ]| all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed 208:174,13[A ]| though your sister \does\ play so well. There is a stubbornness 208:174,14[A ]| about me that never can bear to be frightened at 208:174,15[A ]| the will of others. My courage always rises with every 208:174,16[A ]| attempt to intimidate me." 208:174,17[B ]| "I shall not say that you are mistaken," 208:174,17[' ]| he replied, 208:174,18[B ]| "because you could not really believe me to entertain 208:174,19[B ]| any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure 208:174,20[B ]| of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find 208:174,21[B ]| great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which 208:174,22[B ]| in fact are not your own." 208:174,23[' ]| Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, 208:174,24[' ]| and said to Colonel*Fitzwilliam, 208:174,24[A ]| "Your cousin will give 208:174,25[A ]| you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to 208:174,26[A ]| believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting 208:174,27[A ]| with a person so well able to expose my real character, 208:174,28[A ]| in a part of the world, where I had hoped to pass myself 208:174,29[A ]| off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr%*Darcy, it is 208:174,30[A ]| very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to 208:174,31[A ]| my disadvantage in Hertfordshire ~~ and, give me leave 208:174,32[A ]| to say, very impolitic too ~~ for it is provoking me to 208:174,33[A ]| retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock 208:174,34[A ]| your relations to hear." 208:174,35[B ]| "I am not afraid of you," 208:174,35[' ]| said he, smilingly. 208:174,36[M ]| "Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," 208:174,37[' ]| cried Colonel*Fitzwilliam. 208:174,37[M ]| "I should like to know how 208:174,38[M ]| he behaves among strangers." 208:175,01[A ]| "You shall hear then ~~ but prepare yourself for something 208:175,02[A ]| very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing 208:175,03[A ]| him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball ~~ 208:175,04[A ]| and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced 208:175,05[A ]| only four dances! I am sorry to pain you ~~ but so it was. 208:175,06[A ]| He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were 208:175,07[A ]| scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one 208:175,08[A ]| young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr%*Darcy, 208:175,09[A ]| you cannot deny the fact." 208:175,10[B ]| "I had not at that time the honour of knowing any 208:175,11[B ]| lady in the assembly beyond my own party." 208:175,12[A ]| "True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball*room. 208:175,13[A ]| Well, Colonel*Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? 208:175,14[A ]| My fingers wait your orders." 208:175,15[B ]| "Perhaps," 208:175,15[' ]| said Darcy, 208:175,15[B ]| "I should have judged better, 208:175,16[B ]| had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to 208:175,17[B ]| recommend myself to strangers." 208:175,18[A ]| "Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" 208:175,18[' ]| said 208:175,19[' ]| Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel*Fitzwilliam. 208:175,19[A ]| "Shall 208:175,20[A ]| we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who 208:175,21[A ]| has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself 208:175,22[A ]| to strangers?" 208:175,23[M ]| "I can answer your question," 208:175,23[' ]| said Fitzwilliam, 208:175,23[M ]| "without 208:175,24[M ]| applying to him. It is because he will not give himself 208:175,25[M ]| the trouble." 208:175,26[B ]| "I certainly have not the talent which some people 208:175,27[B ]| possess," 208:175,27[' ]| said Darcy, 208:175,27[B ]| "of conversing easily with those 208:175,28[B ]| I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of 208:175,29[B ]| conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as 208:175,30[B ]| I often see done." 208:175,31[A ]| "My fingers," 208:175,31[' ]| said Elizabeth, 208:175,31[A ]| "do not move over this 208:175,32[A ]| instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many 208:175,33[A ]| women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, 208:175,34[A ]| and do not produce the same expression. But then I have 208:175,35[A ]| always supposed it to be my own fault ~~ because I would 208:175,36[A ]| not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not 208:175,37[A ]| believe \my\ fingers as capable as any other woman's of 208:175,38[A ]| superior execution." 208:176,01[' ]| Darcy smiled and said, 208:176,01[B ]| "You are perfectly right. You 208:176,02[B ]| have employed your time much better. No*one admitted 208:176,03[B ]| to the privilege of hearing you, can think any*thing wanting. 208:176,04[B ]| We neither of us perform to strangers." 208:176,05[' ]| Here they were interrupted by Lady*Catherine, who 208:176,06[' ]| called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth 208:176,07[' ]| immediately began playing again. Lady*Catherine 208:176,08[' ]| approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said 208:176,09[' ]| to Darcy, 208:176,10[L ]| "Miss*Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practised 208:176,11[L ]| more, and could have the advantage of a London 208:176,12[L ]| master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though 208:176,13[L ]| her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been 208:176,14[L ]| a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to 208:176,15[L ]| learn." 208:176,16[' ]| Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he 208:176,17[' ]| assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that 208:176,18[' ]| moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom 208:176,19[' ]| of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss*De*Bourgh 208:176,20[' ]| she derived this comfort for Miss*Bingley, 208:176,21[' ]| that he might have been just as likely to marry \her\, had 208:176,22[' ]| she been his relation. 208:176,23[' ]| Lady*Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's 208:176,24[' ]| performance, mixing with them many instructions on 208:176,25[' ]| execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all 208:176,26[' ]| the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the 208:176,27[' ]| gentlemen remained at the instrument till her Ladyship's 208:176,28[' ]| carriage was ready to take them all home. 209:177,01[' ]| Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and 209:177,02[' ]| writing to Jane, while Mrs%*Collins and Maria were gone 209:177,03[' ]| on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring 209:177,04[' ]| at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had 209:177,05[' ]| heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be 209:177,06[' ]| Lady*Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting 209:177,07[' ]| away her half-finished letter that she might escape all 209:177,08[' ]| impertinent questions, when the door opened, and to her 209:177,09[' ]| very great surprise, Mr%*Darcy, and Mr%*Darcy only, 209:177,10[' ]| entered the room. 209:177,11[' ]| He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and 209:177,12[' ]| apologised for his intrusion, by letting her know that he 209:177,13[' ]| had understood all the ladies to be within. 209:177,14[' ]| They then sat down, and when her enquiries after 209:177,15[' ]| Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into 209:177,16[' ]| total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to 209:177,17[' ]| think of something, and in this emergence recollecting 209:177,18[' ]| \when\ she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling 209:177,19[' ]| curious to know what he would say on the subject of their 209:177,20[' ]| hasty departure, she observed, 209:177,21[A ]| "How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last 209:177,22[A ]| November, Mr%*Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable 209:177,23[A ]| surprise to Mr%*Bingley to see you all after him so 209:177,24[A ]| soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day 209:177,25[A ]| before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you 209:177,26[A ]| left London." 209:177,27[B ]| "Perfectly so ~~ I thank you." 209:177,28[' ]| She found that she was to receive no other answer ~~ 209:177,29[' ]| and, after a short pause, added, 209:177,30[A ]| "I think I have understood that Mr%*Bingley has not 209:177,31[A ]| much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?" 209:177,32[B ]| "I have never heard him say so; but it is probable 209:177,33[B ]| that he may spend very little of his time there in future. 209:178,01[B ]| He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when 209:178,02[B ]| friends and engagements are continually increasing." 209:178,03[A ]| "If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would 209:178,04[A ]| be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up 209:178,05[A ]| the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a 209:178,06[A ]| settled family there. But perhaps Mr%*Bingley did not 209:178,07[A ]| take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood 209:178,08[A ]| as for his own, and we must expect him to keep 209:178,09[A ]| or quit it on the same principle." 209:178,10[B ]| "I should not be surprised," 209:178,10[' ]| said Darcy, 209:178,10[B ]| "if he were 209:178,11[B ]| to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchase offers." 209:178,12[' ]| Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking 209:178,13[' ]| longer of his friend; and, having nothing else to say, 209:178,14[' ]| was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a 209:178,15[' ]| subject to him. 209:178,16[' ]| He took the hint, and soon began with, 209:178,16[B ]| "This seems 209:178,17[B ]| a very comfortable house. Lady*Catherine, I believe, 209:178,18[B ]| did a great deal to it when Mr%*Collins first came to 209:178,19[B ]| Hunsford." 209:178,20[A ]| "I believe she did ~~ and I am sure she could not have 209:178,21[A ]| bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object." 209:178,22[B ]| "Mr%*Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of 209:178,23[B ]| a wife." 209:178,24[A ]| "Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his 209:178,25[A ]| having met with one of the very few sensible women 209:178,26[A ]| who would have accepted him, or have made him happy 209:178,27[A ]| if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding ~~ 209:178,28[A ]| though I am not certain that I consider her marrying 209:178,29[A ]| Mr%*Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems 209:178,30[A ]| perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is 209:178,31[A ]| certainly a very good match for her." 209:178,32[B ]| "It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within 209:178,33[B ]| so easy a distance of her own family and friends." 209:178,34[A ]| "An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty 209:178,35[A ]| miles." 209:178,36[B ]| "And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more 209:178,37[B ]| than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a \very\ easy 209:178,38[B ]| distance." 209:179,01[A ]| "I should never have considered the distance as one 209:179,02[A ]| of the \advantages\ of the match," 209:179,02[' ]| cried Elizabeth. 209:179,02[A ]| "I 209:179,03[A ]| should never have said Mrs%*Collins was settled \near\ her 209:179,04[A ]| family." 209:179,05[B ]| "It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. 209:179,06[B ]| Any*thing beyond the very neighbourhood of 209:179,07[B ]| Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far." 209:179,08[' ]| As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth 209:179,09[' ]| fancied she understood; 209:179,09@a | he must be supposing her to be 209:179,10@a | thinking of Jane and Netherfield, 209:179,10[' ]| and she blushed as she 209:179,11[' ]| answered, 209:179,12[A ]| "I do not mean to say that a woman may not be 209:179,13[A ]| settled too near her family. The far and the near must 209:179,14[A ]| be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. 209:179,15[A ]| Where there is fortune to make the expence of travelling 209:179,16[A ]| unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not 209:179,17[A ]| the case \here\. Mr% and Mrs%*Collins have a comfortable 209:179,18[A ]| income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent 209:179,19[A ]| journeys ~~ and I am persuaded my friend would not call 209:179,20[A ]| herself \near\ her family under less than \half\ the present 209:179,21[A ]| distance." 209:179,22[' ]| Mr%*Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and 209:179,23[' ]| said, 209:179,23[B ]| "\You\ cannot have a right to such very strong 209:179,24[B ]| local attachment. \You\ cannot have been always at 209:179,25[B ]| Longbourn." 209:179,26[' ]| Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced 209:179,27[' ]| some change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took 209:179,28[' ]| a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, said, 209:179,29[' ]| in a colder voice, 209:179,30[B ]| "Are you pleased with Kent?" 209:179,31[' ]| A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, 209:179,32[' ]| on either side calm and concise ~~ and soon put an end to 209:179,33[' ]| by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned 209:179,34[' ]| from their walk. The te^te*a*te^te surprised them. Mr%*Darcy 209:179,35[' ]| related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding 209:179,36[' ]| on Miss*Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes 209:179,37[' ]| longer without saying much to any*body, went away. 209:179,38[Q ]| "What can be the meaning of this!" 209:179,38[' ]| said Charlotte, 209:180,01[' ]| as soon as he was gone. 209:180,01[Q ]| "My dear Eliza he must be 209:180,02[Q ]| in love with you, or he would never have called on us in 209:180,03[Q ]| this familiar way." 209:180,04[' ]| But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did not seem 209:180,05[' ]| very likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, to be the case; 209:180,06[' ]| and after various conjectures, they could at last only 209:180,07[' ]| suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding 209:180,08[' ]| any*thing to do, which was the more probable from the 209:180,09[' ]| time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors 209:180,10[' ]| there was Lady*Catherine, books, and a billiard*table, 209:180,11[' ]| but gentlemen cannot be always within doors; and in 209:180,12[' ]| the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the 209:180,13[' ]| walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins 209:180,14[' ]| found a temptation from this period of walking thither 209:180,15[' ]| almost every day. They called at various times of the 209:180,16[' ]| morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and 209:180,17[' ]| now and then accompanied by their aunt. It was plain 209:180,18[' ]| to them all that Colonel*Fitzwilliam came because he had 209:180,19[' ]| pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course 209:180,20[' ]| recommended him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded 209:180,21[' ]| by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by 209:180,22[' ]| his evident admiration for her, of her former favourite 209:180,23[' ]| George*Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she 209:180,24[' ]| saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel*Fitzwilliam's 209:180,25[' ]| manners, she believed he might have the best 209:180,26[' ]| informed mind. 209:180,27[' ]| But why Mr%*Darcy came so often to the parsonage, 209:180,28[' ]| it was more difficult to understand. 209:180,28@q | It could not be for 209:180,29@q | society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together 209:180,30@q | without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it 209:180,31@q | seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice ~~ a 209:180,32@q | sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He 209:180,33@q | seldom appeared really animated. 209:180,33[' ]| Mrs%*Collins knew not 209:180,34[' ]| what to make of him. 209:180,34@q | Colonel*Fitzwilliam's occasionally 209:180,35@q | laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally 209:180,36@q | different, which her own knowledge of him could not 209:180,37@q | have told her; 209:180,37[' ]| and as she would have liked to believe 209:180,38[' ]| this change the effect of love, and the object of that love, 209:181,01[' ]| her friend Eliza, she sat herself seriously to work to find 209:181,02[' ]| it out. ~~ She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, 209:181,03[' ]| and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much 209:181,04[' ]| success. 209:181,04@q | He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, 209:181,05@q | but the expression of that look was disputable. It was 209:181,06@q | an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether 209:181,07@q | there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed 209:181,08@q | nothing but absence of mind. 209:181,09[' ]| She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the 209:181,10[' ]| possibility of his being partial to her, but Elizabeth 209:181,11[' ]| always laughed at the idea; and Mrs%*Collins did not 209:181,12[' ]| think it right to press the subject, from the danger of 209:181,13[' ]| raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; 209:181,14[' ]| for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, 209:181,15[' ]| that all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could 209:181,16[' ]| suppose him to be in her power. 209:181,17[' ]| In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes 209:181,18[' ]| planned her marrying Colonel*Fitzwilliam. 209:181,18@q | He was beyond 209:181,19@q | comparison the pleasantest man; he certainly admired 209:181,20@q | her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, to 209:181,21@q | counterbalance these advantages, Mr%*Darcy had considerable 209:181,22@q | patronage in the church, and his cousin could 209:181,23@q | have none at all. 210:182,01[' ]| More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within 210:182,02[' ]| the Park, unexpectedly meet Mr%*Darcy. ~~ She felt all the 210:182,03[' ]| perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where 210:182,04[' ]| no*one else was brought; and to prevent its ever happening 210:182,05[' ]| again, took care to inform him at first, that it was a 210:182,06[' ]| favourite haunt of hers. ~~ 210:182,06@a | How it could occur a second 210:182,07@a | time therefore was very odd! ~~ Yet it did, and even a third. 210:182,08@a | It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, 210:182,09@a | for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal 210:182,10@a | enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he 210:182,11@a | actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with 210:182,12@a | her. 210:182,12[' ]| He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself 210:182,13[' ]| the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck 210:182,14[' ]| her in the course of their third rencontre that he was 210:182,15[' ]| asking some odd unconnected questions ~~ about her 210:182,16[' ]| pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, 210:182,17[' ]| and her opinion of Mr% and Mrs%*Collins's happiness; 210:182,18[' ]| and that in speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly 210:182,19[' ]| understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever 210:182,20[' ]| she came into Kent again she would be staying \there\ 210:182,21[' ]| too. 210:182,21@a | His words seemed to imply it. Could he have 210:182,22@a | Colonel*Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? 210:182,22[' ]| She supposed, 210:182,22@a | if he 210:182,23@a | meant any*thing, he must mean an allusion to what might 210:182,24@a | arise in that quarter. 210:182,24[' ]| It distressed her a little, and she 210:182,25[' ]| was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales 210:182,26[' ]| opposite the Parsonage. 210:182,27[' ]| She was engaged one day as she walked, in re-perusing 210:182,28[' ]| Jane's last letter, and dwelling on some passages which 210:182,29[' ]| proved that Jane had not written in spirits, when, instead 210:182,30[' ]| of being again surprised by Mr%*Darcy, she saw on looking 210:182,31[' ]| up that Colonel*Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting 210:182,32[' ]| away the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said, 210:182,33[A ]| "I did not know before that you ever walked this way." 210:183,01[M ]| "I have been making the tour of the Park," 210:183,01[' ]| he replied, 210:183,02[M ]| "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with 210:183,03[M ]| a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?" 210:183,04[A ]| "No, I should have turned in a moment." 210:183,05[' ]| And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards 210:183,06[' ]| the Parsonage together. 210:183,07[A ]| "Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" 210:183,07[' ]| said she. 210:183,08[M ]| "Yes ~~ if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am 210:183,09[M ]| at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he 210:183,10[M ]| pleases." 210:183,11[A ]| "And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, 210:183,12[A ]| he has at least great pleasure in the power of choice. I do 210:183,13[A ]| not know any*body who seems more to enjoy the power 210:183,14[A ]| of doing what he likes than Mr%*Darcy." 210:183,15[M ]| "He likes to have his own way very well," 210:183,15[' ]| replied 210:183,16[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam. 210:183,16[M ]| "But so we all do. It is only that 210:183,17[M ]| he has better means of having it than many others, 210:183,18[M ]| because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak 210:183,19[M ]| feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to 210:183,20[M ]| self-denial and dependence." 210:183,21[A ]| "In my opinion, the younger son of an Earl can know 210:183,22[A ]| very little of either. Now, seriously, what have you ever 210:183,23[A ]| known of self-denial and dependence? When have you 210:183,24[A ]| been prevented by want of money from going wherever 210:183,25[A ]| you chose, or procuring any*thing you had a fancy for?" 210:183,26[M ]| "These are home questions ~~ and perhaps I cannot say 210:183,27[M ]| that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. 210:183,28[M ]| But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from the 210:183,29[M ]| want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they 210:183,30[M ]| like." 210:183,31[A ]| "Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think 210:183,32[A ]| they very often do." 210:183,33[M ]| "Our habits of expence make us too dependant, and 210:183,34[M ]| there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to 210:183,35[M ]| marry without some attention to money." 210:183,36@a | "Is this," 210:183,36[' ]| thought Elizabeth, 210:183,36@a | "meant for me?" 210:183,36[' ]| and 210:183,37[' ]| she coloured at the idea; but, recovering herself, said 210:183,38[' ]| in a lively tone, 210:183,38[A ]| "And pray, what is the usual price of an 210:184,01[A ]| Earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother is very 210:184,02[A ]| sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand 210:184,03[A ]| pounds." 210:184,04[' ]| He answered her in the same style, and the subject 210:184,05[' ]| dropped. To interrupt a silence which might make him 210:184,06[' ]| fancy her affected with what had passed, she soon afterwards 210:184,07[' ]| said, 210:184,08[A ]| "I imagine your cousin brought you down with him 210:184,09[A ]| chiefly for the sake of having somebody at his disposal. 210:184,10[A ]| I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience 210:184,11[A ]| of that kind. But, perhaps his sister does as 210:184,12[A ]| well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, 210:184,13[A ]| he may do what he likes with her." 210:184,14[M ]| "No," 210:184,14[' ]| said Colonel*Fitzwilliam, 210:184,14[M ]| "that is an advantage 210:184,15[M ]| which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in 210:184,16[M ]| the guardianship of Miss*Darcy." 210:184,17[A ]| "Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of guardians 210:184,18[A ]| do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? 210:184,19[A ]| Young ladies of her age, are sometimes a little difficult 210:184,20[A ]| to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may 210:184,21[A ]| like to have her own way." 210:184,22[' ]| As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly, 210:184,23[' ]| and the manner in which he immediately asked her why 210:184,24[' ]| she supposed Miss*Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, 210:184,25[' ]| convinced her that she had somehow or other got 210:184,26[' ]| pretty near the truth. She directly replied, 210:184,27[A ]| "You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm 210:184,28[A ]| of her; and I dare say she is one of the most tractable 210:184,29[A ]| creatures in the world. She is a very great favourite with 210:184,30[A ]| some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs%*Hurst and Miss*Bingley. 210:184,31[A ]| I think I have heard you say that you know 210:184,32[A ]| them." 210:184,33[M ]| "I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant 210:184,34[M ]| gentleman-like man ~~ he is a great friend of Darcy's." 210:184,35[A ]| "Oh! yes," 210:184,35[' ]| said Elizabeth drily ~~ 210:184,35[A ]| "Mr%*Darcy is 210:184,36[A ]| uncommonly kind to Mr%*Bingley, and takes a prodigious 210:184,37[A ]| deal of care of him." 210:184,38[M ]| "Care of him! ~~ Yes, I really believe Darcy \does\ take 210:185,01[M ]| care of him in those points where he most wants care. 210:185,02[M ]| From something that he told me in our journey hither, 210:185,03[M ]| I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to 210:185,04[M ]| him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right 210:185,05[M ]| to suppose that Bingley was the person meant. It was 210:185,06[M ]| all conjecture." 210:185,07[A ]| "What is it you mean?" 210:185,08[M ]| "It is a circumstance which Darcy of course would 210:185,09[M ]| not wish to be generally known, because if it were to 210:185,10[M ]| get round to the lady's family, it would be an unpleasant 210:185,11[M ]| thing." 210:185,12[A ]| "You may depend upon my not mentioning it." 210:185,13[M ]| "And remember that I have not much reason for 210:185,14[M ]| supposing it to be Bingley. What he told me was merely 210:185,15[M ]| this; that he congratulated himself on having lately saved 210:185,16[M ]| a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent 210:185,17[M ]| marriage, but without mentioning names or any other 210:185,18[M ]| particulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from 210:185,19[M ]| believing him the kind of young man to get into a scrape 210:185,20[M ]| of that sort, and from knowing them to have been together 210:185,21[M ]| the whole of last summer." 210:185,22[A ]| "Did Mr%*Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?" 210:185,23[A ]| 210:185,24[M ]| "I understood that there were some very strong objections 210:185,25[M ]| against the lady." 210:185,26[A ]| "And what arts did he use to separate them?" 210:185,27[M ]| "He did not talk to me of his own arts," 210:185,27[' ]| said Fitzwilliam 210:185,28[' ]| smiling. 210:185,28[M ]| "He only told me, what I have now 210:185,29[M ]| told you." 210:185,30[' ]| Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart 210:185,31[' ]| swelling with indignation. After watching her a little, 210:185,32[' ]| Fitzwilliam asked her why she was so thoughtful. 210:185,33[A ]| "I am thinking of what you have been telling me," 210:185,34[' ]| said she. 210:185,34[A ]| "Your cousin's conduct does not suit my 210:185,35[A ]| feelings. Why was he to be the judge?" 210:185,36[M ]| "You are rather disposed to call his interference 210:185,37[M ]| officious?" 210:185,38[A ]| "I do not see what right Mr%*Darcy had to decide on 210:186,01[A ]| the propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his 210:186,02[A ]| own judgment alone, he was to determine and direct in 210:186,03[A ]| what manner that friend was to be happy." "But," 210:186,03[' ]| she 210:186,04[' ]| continued, recollecting herself, 210:186,04[A ]| "as we know none of the 210:186,05[A ]| particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to 210:186,06[A ]| be supposed that there was much affection in the case." 210:186,07[M ]| "That is not an unnatural surmise," 210:186,07[' ]| said Fitzwilliam, 210:186,08[M ]| "but it is lessening the honour of my cousin's triumph 210:186,09[M ]| very sadly." 210:186,10[' ]| This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so 210:186,11[' ]| just a picture of Mr%*Darcy, that she would not trust 210:186,12[' ]| herself with an answer; and, therefore, abruptly changing 210:186,13[' ]| the conversation, talked on indifferent matters till they 210:186,14[' ]| reached the parsonage. There, shut into her own room, 210:186,15[' ]| as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without 210:186,16[' ]| interruption of all that she had heard. 210:186,16@a | It was not to be 210:186,17@a | supposed that any other people could be meant than those 210:186,18@a | with whom she was connected. There could not exist in 210:186,19@a | the world \two\ men, over whom Mr%*Darcy could have such 210:186,20@a | boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the 210:186,21@a | measures taken to separate Mr%*Bingley and Jane, she had 210:186,22@a | never doubted; but she had always attributed to Miss*Bingley 210:186,23@a | the principal design and arrangement of them. 210:186,24@a | If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, \he\ was 210:186,25@a | the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause of all 210:186,26@a | that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He 210:186,27@a | had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most 210:186,28@a | affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no*one 210:186,29@a | could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted. 210:186,30[M ]| "There were some very strong objections against the 210:186,31[M ]| lady," 210:186,31@a | were Colonel*Fitzwilliam's words, and these strong 210:186,32@a | objections probably were, her having one uncle who was 210:186,33@a | a country attorney, and another who was in business in 210:186,34@a | London. 210:186,35[A ]| "To Jane herself," 210:186,35[' ]| she exclaimed, 210:186,35[A ]| "there could be no 210:186,36[A ]| possibility of objection. All loveliness and goodness as 210:186,37[A ]| she is! Her understanding excellent, her mind improved, 210:186,38[A ]| and her manners captivating. Neither could any*thing 210:187,01[A ]| be urged against my father, who, though with some 210:187,02[A ]| peculiarities, has abilities which Mr%*Darcy himself need 210:187,03[A ]| not disdain, and respectability which he will probably 210:187,04[A ]| never reach." 210:187,04[' ]| When she thought of her mother indeed, 210:187,05[' ]| her confidence gave way a little, but she would not allow 210:187,06[' ]| that any objections \there\ had material weight with 210:187,07[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive 210:187,08[' ]| a deeper wound from the want of importance in his friend's 210:187,09[' ]| connections, than from their want of sense; and she was 210:187,10[' ]| quite decided at last, that he had been partly governed 210:187,11[' ]| by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of 210:187,12[' ]| retaining Mr%*Bingley for his sister. 210:187,13[' ]| The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, 210:187,14[' ]| brought on a headach; and it grew so much worse 210:187,15[' ]| towards the evening that, added to her unwillingness to 210:187,16[' ]| see Mr%*Darcy, it determined her not to attend her cousins 210:187,17[' ]| to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs%*Collins, 210:187,18[' ]| seeing that she was really unwell, did not press 210:187,19[' ]| her to go, and as much as possible prevented her husband 210:187,20[' ]| from pressing her, but Mr%*Collins could not conceal his 210:187,21[' ]| apprehension of Lady*Catherine's being rather displeased 210:187,22[' ]| by her staying at home. 211:188,01[' ]| When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to 211:188,02[' ]| exasperate herself as much as possible against Mr%*Darcy, 211:188,03[' ]| chose for her employment the examination of all the letters 211:188,04[' ]| which Jane had written to her since her being in Kent. 211:188,05[' ]| They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any 211:188,06[' ]| revival of past occurrences, or any communication of 211:188,07[' ]| present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of 211:188,08[' ]| each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had 211:188,09[' ]| been used to characterize her style, and which, proceeding 211:188,10[' ]| from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly 211:188,11[' ]| disposed towards every*one, had been scarcely ever clouded. 211:188,12[' ]| Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of 211:188,13[' ]| uneasiness, with an attention which it had hardly received 211:188,14[' ]| on the first perusal. Mr%*Darcy's shameful boast of what 211:188,15[' ]| misery he had been able to inflict, gave her a keener sense 211:188,16[' ]| of her sister's sufferings. It was some consolation to 211:188,17[' ]| think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after 211:188,18[' ]| the next, and a still greater, that in less than a fortnight 211:188,19[' ]| she should herself be with Jane again, and enabled to 211:188,20[' ]| contribute to the recovery of her spirits, by all that 211:188,21[' ]| affection could do. 211:188,22[' ]| She could not think of Darcy's leaving Kent, without 211:188,23[' ]| remembering that his cousin was to go with him; 211:188,23@a | but 211:188,24@a | Colonel*Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no 211:188,25@a | intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not 211:188,26@a | mean to be unhappy about him. 211:188,27[' ]| While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by 211:188,28[' ]| the sound of the door*bell, and her spirits were a little 211:188,29[' ]| fluttered by the idea of its being Colonel*Fitzwilliam 211:188,30[' ]| himself, who had once before called late in the evening, 211:188,31[' ]| and might now come to enquire particularly after her. 211:188,32[' ]| But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were 211:188,33[' ]| very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, 211:189,01[' ]| she saw Mr%*Darcy walk into the room. In an hurried 211:189,02[' ]| manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, 211:189,03[' ]| imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were 211:189,04[' ]| better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat 211:189,05[' ]| down for a few moments, and then getting up walked 211:189,06[' ]| about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not 211:189,07[' ]| a word. After a silence of several minutes he came 211:189,08[' ]| towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began, 211:189,09[B ]| "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings 211:189,10[B ]| will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you 211:189,11[B ]| how ardently I admire and love you." 211:189,12[' ]| Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She 211:189,13[' ]| stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered 211:189,14[' ]| sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all 211:189,15[' ]| that he felt and had long felt for her, immediately followed. 211:189,16[' ]| He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the 211:189,17[' ]| heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the 211:189,18[' ]| subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her 211:189,19[' ]| inferiority ~~ of its being a degradation ~~ of the family 211:189,20[' ]| obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, 211:189,21[' ]| were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due 211:189,22[' ]| to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely 211:189,23[' ]| to recommend his suit. 211:189,24[' ]| In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be 211:189,25[' ]| insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, 211:189,26[' ]| and though her intentions did not vary for an instant, 211:189,27[' ]| she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive; till, 211:189,28[' ]| roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost 211:189,29[' ]| all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose 211:189,30[' ]| herself to answer him with patience, when he should have 211:189,31[' ]| done. He concluded with representing to her the strength 211:189,32[' ]| of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, 211:189,33[' ]| he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing 211:189,34[' ]| his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance 211:189,35[' ]| of his hand. As he said this, she could easily see that he 211:189,36[' ]| had no doubt of a favourable answer. He \spoke\ of apprehension 211:189,37[' ]| and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real 211:189,38[' ]| security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate 211:190,01[' ]| farther, and when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, 211:190,02[' ]| and she said, 211:190,03[A ]| "In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established 211:190,04[A ]| mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments 211:190,05[A ]| avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is 211:190,06[A ]| natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could \feel\ 211:190,07[A ]| gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot ~~ I have 211:190,08[A ]| never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly 211:190,09[A ]| bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned 211:190,10[A ]| pain to any*one. It has been most unconsciously 211:190,11[A ]| done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. 211:190,12[A ]| The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the 211:190,13[A ]| acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty 211:190,14[A ]| in overcoming it after this explanation." 211:190,15[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, who was leaning against the mantle-piece 211:190,16[' ]| with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words 211:190,17[' ]| with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion 211:190,18[' ]| became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind 211:190,19[' ]| was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the 211:190,20[' ]| appearance of composure, and would not open his lips, 211:190,21[' ]| till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause 211:190,22[' ]| was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. At length, in a voice 211:190,23[' ]| of forced calmness, he said, 211:190,24[B ]| "And this is all the reply which I am to have the 211:190,25[B ]| honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed 211:190,26[B ]| why, with so little \endeavour\ at civility, I am thus 211:190,27[B ]| rejected. But it is of small importance." 211:190,28[A ]| "I might as well enquire," 211:190,28[' ]| replied she, 211:190,28[A ]| "why with so 211:190,29[A ]| evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose 211:190,30[A ]| to tell me that you liked me against your will, against 211:190,31[A ]| your reason, and even against your character? Was not 211:190,32[A ]| this some excuse for incivility, if I \was\ uncivil? But I have 211:190,33[A ]| other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own 211:190,34[A ]| feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, 211:190,35[A ]| or had they even been favourable, do you think that any 211:190,36[A ]| consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has 211:190,37[A ]| been the means of ruining, perhaps for*ever, the happiness 211:190,38[A ]| of a most beloved sister?" 211:191,01[' ]| As she pronounced these words, Mr%*Darcy changed 211:191,02[' ]| colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened 211:191,03[' ]| without attempting to interrupt her while she continued. 211:191,04[A ]| "I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. 211:191,05[A ]| No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part 211:191,06[A ]| you acted \there\. You dare not, you cannot deny that you 211:191,07[A ]| have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing 211:191,08[A ]| them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of 211:191,09[A ]| the world for caprice and instability, the other to its 211:191,10[A ]| derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both 211:191,11[A ]| in misery of the acutest kind." 211:191,12[' ]| She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that 211:191,13[' ]| he was listening with an air which proved him wholly 211:191,14[' ]| unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at 211:191,15[' ]| her with a smile of affected incredulity. 211:191,16[A ]| "Can you deny that you have done it?" 211:191,16[' ]| she repeated. 211:191,17[' ]| With assumed tranquillity he then replied, 211:191,17[B ]| "I have no wish 211:191,18[B ]| of denying that I did every*thing in my power to separate 211:191,19[B ]| my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. 211:191,20[B ]| Towards \him\ I have been kinder than towards myself." 211:191,21[' ]| Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil 211:191,22[' ]| reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it 211:191,23[' ]| likely to conciliate her. 211:191,24[A ]| "But it is not merely this affair," 211:191,24[' ]| she continued, 211:191,24[A ]| "on 211:191,25[A ]| which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken 211:191,26[A ]| place, my opinion of you was decided. Your character 211:191,27[A ]| was unfolded in the recital which I received many months 211:191,28[A ]| ago from Mr%*Wickham. On this subject, what can you 211:191,29[A ]| have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you 211:191,30[A ]| here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation, 211:191,31[A ]| can you here impose upon others?" 211:191,32[B ]| "You take an eager interest in that gentleman's 211:191,33[B ]| concerns," 211:191,33[' ]| said Darcy in a less tranquil tone, and with 211:191,34[' ]| a heightened colour. 211:191,35[A ]| "Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can 211:191,36[A ]| help feeling an interest in him?" 211:191,37[B ]| "His misfortunes!" 211:191,37[' ]| repeated Darcy contemptuously; 211:191,38[B ]| "yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed." 211:192,01[A ]| "And of your infliction," 211:192,01[' ]| cried Elizabeth with energy. 211:192,02[A ]| "You have reduced him to his present state of poverty, 211:192,03[A ]| comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages, 211:192,04[A ]| which you must know to have been designed for him. 211:192,05[A ]| You have deprived the best years of his life, of that independence 211:192,06[A ]| which was no less his due than his desert. You 211:192,07[A ]| have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention 211:192,08[A ]| of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule." 211:192,09[B ]| "And this," 211:192,09[' ]| cried Darcy, as he walked with quick 211:192,10[' ]| steps across the room, 211:192,10[B ]| "is your opinion of me! This is 211:192,11[B ]| the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you 211:192,12[B ]| for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this 211:192,13[B ]| calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps," 211:192,13[' ]| added he, 211:192,14[' ]| stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, 211:192,14[B ]| "these 211:192,15[B ]| offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride 211:192,16[B ]| been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that 211:192,17[B ]| had long prevented my forming any serious design. 211:192,18[B ]| These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had 211:192,19[B ]| I with greater policy concealed my struggles, and flattered 211:192,20[B ]| you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, 211:192,21[B ]| unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by 211:192,22[B ]| every*thing. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. 211:192,23[B ]| Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They 211:192,24[B ]| were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice 211:192,25[B ]| in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate 211:192,26[B ]| myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life 211:192,27[B ]| is so decidedly beneath my own?" 211:192,28[' ]| Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; 211:192,29[' ]| yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when 211:192,30[' ]| she said, 211:192,31[A ]| "You are mistaken, Mr%*Darcy, if you suppose that 211:192,32[A ]| the mode of your declaration affected me in any other 211:192,33[A ]| way, than as it spared me the concern which I might 211:192,34[A ]| have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more 211:192,35[A ]| gentleman-like manner." 211:192,36[' ]| She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she 211:192,37[' ]| continued, 211:192,38[A ]| "You could not have made me the offer of your hand 211:193,01[A ]| in any possible way that would have tempted me to 211:193,02[A ]| accept it." 211:193,03[' ]| Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked 211:193,04[' ]| at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and 211:193,05[' ]| mortification. She went on. 211:193,06[A ]| "From the very beginning, from the first moment 211:193,07[A ]| I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your 211:193,08[A ]| manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your 211:193,09[A ]| arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the 211:193,10[A ]| feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work 211:193,11[A ]| of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built 211:193,12[A ]| so immoveable a dislike; and I had not known you a 211:193,13[A ]| month before I felt that you were the last man in the 211:193,14[A ]| world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry." 211:193,15[B ]| "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly 211:193,16[B ]| comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be 211:193,17[B ]| ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for 211:193,18[B ]| having taken up so much of your time, and accept my 211:193,19[B ]| best wishes for your health and happiness." 211:193,20[' ]| And with these words he hastily left the room, and 211:193,21[' ]| Elizabeth heard him the next moment open the front door 211:193,22[' ]| and quit the house. 211:193,23[' ]| The tumult of her mind was now painfully great. She 211:193,24[' ]| knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness 211:193,25[' ]| sat down and cried for half an hour. Her astonishment, 211:193,26[' ]| as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by 211:193,27[' ]| every review of it. 211:193,27@a | That she should receive an offer of 211:193,28@a | marriage from Mr%*Darcy! that he should have been in 211:193,29@a | love with her for so many months! so much in love 211:193,30@a | as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which 211:193,31@a | had made him prevent his friend's marrying her sister, and 211:193,32@a | which must appear at least with equal force in his own case, 211:193,33@a | was almost incredible! it was gratifying to have inspired 211:193,34@a | unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his 211:193,35@a | abominable pride, his shameless avowal of what he had 211:193,36@a | done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance 211:193,37@a | in acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the 211:193,38@a | unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Mr%*Wickham, 211:194,01@a | his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to 211:194,02@a | deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of 211:194,03@a | his attachment had for a moment excited. 211:194,04[' ]| She continued in very agitating reflections till the sound 211:194,05[' ]| of Lady*Catherine's carriage made her feel how unequal 211:194,06[' ]| she was to encounter Charlotte's observation, and hurried 211:194,07[' ]| her away to her room. 212:195,01[' ]| Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same 212:195,02[' ]| thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her 212:195,03[' ]| eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what 212:195,04[' ]| had happened; it was impossible to think of any*thing 212:195,05[' ]| else, and totally indisposed for employment, she resolved 212:195,06[' ]| soon after breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. 212:195,07[' ]| She was proceeding directly to her favourite walk, when 212:195,08[' ]| the recollection of Mr%*Darcy's sometimes coming there 212:195,09[' ]| stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she turned 212:195,10[' ]| up the lane, which led her farther from the turnpike road. 212:195,11[' ]| The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and 212:195,12[' ]| she soon passed one of the gates into the ground. 212:195,13[' ]| After walking two or three times along that part of the 212:195,14[' ]| lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, 212:195,15[' ]| to stop at the gates and look into the park. The five 212:195,16[' ]| weeks which she had now passed in Kent, had made 212:195,17[' ]| a great difference in the country, and every day was adding 212:195,18[' ]| to the verdure of the early trees. She was on the point 212:195,19[' ]| of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse of 212:195,20[' ]| a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the 212:195,21[' ]| park; he was moving that way; and fearful of its being 212:195,22[' ]| Mr%*Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person 212:195,23[' ]| who advanced, was now near enough to see her, and 212:195,24[' ]| stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced her name. 212:195,25[' ]| She had turned away, but on hearing herself called, 212:195,26[' ]| though in a voice which proved it to be Mr%*Darcy, she 212:195,27[' ]| moved again towards the gate. He had by that time 212:195,28[' ]| reached it also, and holding out a letter, which she instinctively 212:195,29[' ]| took, said with a look of haughty composure, 212:195,30[B ]| "I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope 212:195,31[B ]| of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading 212:195,32[B ]| that letter?" ~~ 212:195,32[' ]| And then, with a slight bow, turned again 212:195,33[' ]| into the plantation, and was soon out of sight. 212:196,01[' ]| With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest 212:196,02[' ]| curiosity, Elizabeth opened the letter, and to her still 212:196,03[' ]| increasing wonder, perceived an envelope containing two 212:196,04[' ]| sheets of letter paper, written quite through, in a very 212:196,05[' ]| close hand. ~~ The envelope itself was likewise full. ~~ 212:196,06[' ]| Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It 212:196,07[' ]| was dated from Rosings, at eight o'clock in the morning, 212:196,08[' ]| and was as follows: ~~ 212:196,09[B ]| "Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by 212:196,10[B ]| the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those 212:196,11[B ]| sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last 212:196,12[B ]| night so disgusting to you. I write without any intention 212:196,13[B ]| of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on 212:196,14[B ]| wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too 212:196,15[B ]| soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation, and 212:196,16[B ]| the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have been 212:196,17[B ]| spared, had not my character required it to be written 212:196,18[B ]| and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with 212:196,19[B ]| which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, 212:196,20[B ]| will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice. 212:196,21[B ]| "Two offences of a very different nature, and by no 212:196,22[B ]| means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my 212:196,23[B ]| charge. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the 212:196,24[B ]| sentiments of either, I had detached Mr%*Bingley from 212:196,25[B ]| your sister, ~~ and the other, that I had, in defiance of 212:196,26[B ]| various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined 212:196,27[B ]| the immediate prosperity, and blasted the prospects of 212:196,28[B ]| Mr%*Wickham. ~~ Wilfully and wantonly to have thrown off 212:196,29[B ]| the companion of my youth, the acknowledged favourite 212:196,30[B ]| of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other 212:196,31[B ]| dependence than on our patronage, and who had been 212:196,32[B ]| brought up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity, 212:196,33[B ]| to which the separation of two young persons, whose 212:196,34[B ]| affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could 212:196,35[B ]| bear no comparison. ~~ But from the severity of that blame 212:196,36[B ]| which was last night so liberally bestowed, respecting each 212:196,37[B ]| circumstance, I shall hope to be in future secured, when 212:196,38[B ]| the following account of my actions and their motives 212:197,01[B ]| has been read. ~~ If, in the explanation of them which is 212:197,02[B ]| due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings 212:197,03[B ]| which may be offensive to your's, I can only say that I am 212:197,04[B ]| sorry. ~~ The necessity must be obeyed ~~ and farther apology 212:197,05[B ]| would be absurd. ~~ I had not been long in Hertfordshire, 212:197,06[B ]| before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred 212:197,07[B ]| your eldest sister, to any other young woman in the 212:197,08[B ]| country. ~~ But it was not till the evening of the dance at 212:197,09[B ]| Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling 212:197,10[B ]| a serious attachment. ~~ I had often seen him in love before. 212:197,11[B ]| ~~ At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with 212:197,12[B ]| you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir*William*Lucas's 212:197,13[B ]| accidental information, that Bingley's attentions to your 212:197,14[B ]| sister had given rise to a general expectation of their 212:197,15[B ]| marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which 212:197,16[B ]| the time alone could be undecided. From that moment 212:197,17[B ]| I observed my friend's behaviour attentively; and I could 212:197,18[B ]| then perceive that his partiality for Miss*Bennet was 212:197,19[B ]| beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister 212:197,20[B ]| I also watched. ~~ Her look and manners were open, 212:197,21[B ]| cheerful and engaging as ever, but without any symptom 212:197,22[B ]| of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from the 212:197,23[B ]| evening's scrutiny, that though she received his attentions 212:197,24[B ]| with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation 212:197,25[B ]| of sentiment. ~~ If \you\ have not been mistaken here, \I\ must 212:197,26[B ]| have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your 212:197,27[B ]| sister must make the latter probable. ~~ If it be so, if I have 212:197,28[B ]| been misled by such error, to inflict pain on her, your 212:197,29[B ]| resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not 212:197,30[B ]| scruple to assert, that the serenity of your sister's countenance 212:197,31[B ]| and air was such, as might have given the most 212:197,32[B ]| acute observer, a conviction that, however amiable her 212:197,33[B ]| temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. ~~ 212:197,34[B ]| That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain, ~~ 212:197,35[B ]| but I will venture to say that my investigations and 212:197,36[B ]| decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. 212:197,37[B ]| ~~ I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; ~~ 212:197,38[B ]| I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished 212:198,01[B ]| it in reason. ~~ My objections to the marriage were not 212:198,02[B ]| merely those, which I last night acknowledged to have 212:198,03[B ]| required the utmost force of passion to put aside, in my 212:198,04[B ]| own case; the want of connection could not be so great 212:198,05[B ]| an evil to my friend as to me. ~~ But there were other 212:198,06[B ]| causes of repugnance; ~~ causes which, though still existing, 212:198,07[B ]| and existing to an equal degree in both instances, I had 212:198,08[B ]| myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not 212:198,09[B ]| immediately before me. ~~ These causes must be stated, 212:198,10[B ]| though briefly. ~~ The situation of your mother's family, 212:198,11[B ]| though objectionable, was nothing in comparison of that 212:198,12[B ]| total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly 212:198,13[B ]| betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and 212:198,14[B ]| occasionally even by your father. ~~ Pardon me. ~~ It pains 212:198,15[B ]| me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the 212:198,16[B ]| defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at 212:198,17[B ]| this representation of them, let it give you consolation 212:198,18[B ]| to consider that, to have conducted yourselves so as to 212:198,19[B ]| avoid any share of the like censure, is praise no less 212:198,20[B ]| generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it 212:198,21[B ]| is honourable to the sense and disposition of both. ~~ I will 212:198,22[B ]| only say farther, that from what passed that evening, 212:198,23[B ]| my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement 212:198,24[B ]| heightened, which could have led me before, to 212:198,25[B ]| preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy 212:198,26[B ]| connection. ~~ He left Netherfield for London, on the day 212:198,27[B ]| following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design 212:198,28[B ]| of soon returning. ~~ The part which I acted, is now to be 212:198,29[B ]| explained. ~~ His sisters' uneasiness had been equally 212:198,30[B ]| excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon 212:198,31[B ]| discovered; and, alike sensible that no time was to be 212:198,32[B ]| lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on 212:198,33[B ]| joining him directly in London. ~~ We accordingly went ~~ 212:198,34[B ]| and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out 212:198,35[B ]| to my friend, the certain evils of such a choice. ~~ I described, 212:198,36[B ]| and enforced them earnestly. ~~ But, however this 212:198,37[B ]| remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, 212:198,38[B ]| I do not suppose that it would ultimately have 212:199,01[B ]| prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the 212:199,02[B ]| assurance which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's 212:199,03[B ]| indifference. He had before believed her to return his 212:199,04[B ]| affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. ~~ But 212:199,05[B ]| Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence 212:199,06[B ]| on my judgment than on his own. ~~ To convince 212:199,07[B ]| him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very 212:199,08[B ]| difficult point. To persuade him against returning into 212:199,09[B ]| Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was 212:199,10[B ]| scarcely the work of a moment. ~~ I cannot blame myself 212:199,11[B ]| for having done thus much. There is but one part of my 212:199,12[B ]| conduct in the whole affair, on which I do not reflect 212:199,13[B ]| with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the 212:199,14[B ]| measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's 212:199,15[B ]| being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to 212:199,16[B ]| Miss*Bingley, but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. ~~ 212:199,17[B ]| That they might have met without ill consequence, is 212:199,18[B ]| perhaps probable; ~~ but his regard did not appear to me 212:199,19[B ]| enough extinguished for him to see her without some 212:199,20[B ]| danger. ~~ Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was 212:199,21[B ]| beneath me. ~~ It is done, however, and it was done for 212:199,22[B ]| the best. ~~ On this subject I have nothing more to say, 212:199,23[B ]| no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's 212:199,24[B ]| feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the 212:199,25[B ]| motives which governed me may to you very naturally 212:199,26[B ]| appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn 212:199,27[B ]| them. ~~ With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, 212:199,28[B ]| of having injured Mr%*Wickham, I can only refute 212:199,29[B ]| it by laying before you the whole of his connection with 212:199,30[B ]| my family. Of what he has \particularly\ accused me I am 212:199,31[B ]| ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can 212:199,32[B ]| summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. 212:199,33[B ]| Mr%*Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who 212:199,34[B ]| had for many years the management of all the Pemberley 212:199,35[B ]| estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his 212:199,36[B ]| trust, naturally inclined my father to be of service to 212:199,37[B ]| him, and on George*Wickham, who was his god-son, his 212:199,38[B ]| kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father 212:200,01[B ]| supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; ~~ 212:200,02[B ]| most important assistance, as his own father, always poor 212:200,03[B ]| from the extravagance of his wife, would have been 212:200,04[B ]| unable to give him a gentleman's education. My father 212:200,05[B ]| was not only fond of this young man's society, whose 212:200,06[B ]| manners were always engaging; he had also the highest 212:200,07[B ]| opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his 212:200,08[B ]| profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for 212:200,09[B ]| myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think 212:200,10[B ]| of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities ~~ 212:200,11[B ]| the want of principle which he was careful to 212:200,12[B ]| guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not 212:200,13[B ]| escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same 212:200,14[B ]| age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing 212:200,15[B ]| him in unguarded moments, which Mr%*Darcy could not 212:200,16[B ]| have. Here again I shall give you pain ~~ to what degree 212:200,17[B ]| you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments 212:200,18[B ]| which Mr%*Wickham has created, a suspicion of their 212:200,19[B ]| nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real 212:200,20[B ]| character. It adds even another motive. My excellent 212:200,21[B ]| father died about five years ago; and his attachment to 212:200,22[B ]| Mr%*Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will 212:200,23[B ]| he particularly recommended it to me, to promote his 212:200,24[B ]| advancement in the best manner that his profession might 212:200,25[B ]| allow, and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family 212:200,26[B ]| living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There 212:200,27[B ]| was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father 212:200,28[B ]| did not long survive mine, and within half a year from 212:200,29[B ]| these events, Mr%*Wickham wrote to inform me that, 212:200,30[B ]| having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped 212:200,31[B ]| I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect 212:200,32[B ]| some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the 212:200,33[B ]| preferment, by which he could not be benefited. He had 212:200,34[B ]| some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must 212:200,35[B ]| be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would 212:200,36[B ]| be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished, 212:200,37[B ]| than believed him to be sincere; but at any rate, was 212:200,38[B ]| perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that 212:201,01[B ]| Mr%*Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business 212:201,02[B ]| was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to 212:201,03[B ]| assistance in the church, were it possible that he could 212:201,04[B ]| ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return 212:201,05[B ]| three thousand pounds. All connection between us 212:201,06[B ]| seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him, to invite 212:201,07[B ]| him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town 212:201,08[B ]| I believe he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was 212:201,09[B ]| a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, 212:201,10[B ]| his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about 212:201,11[B ]| three years I heard little of him; but on the decease 212:201,12[B ]| of the incumbent of the living which had been designed 212:201,13[B ]| for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. 212:201,14[B ]| His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no 212:201,15[B ]| difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had 212:201,16[B ]| found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now 212:201,17[B ]| absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present 212:201,18[B ]| him to the living in question ~~ of which he trusted there 212:201,19[B ]| could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had 212:201,20[B ]| no other person to provide for, and I could not have 212:201,21[B ]| forgotten my revered father's intentions. You will hardly 212:201,22[B ]| blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or 212:201,23[B ]| for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was 212:201,24[B ]| in proportion to the distress of his circumstances ~~ and 212:201,25[B ]| he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others, 212:201,26[B ]| as in his reproaches to myself. After this period, every 212:201,27[B ]| appearance of acquaintance was dropt. How he lived 212:201,28[B ]| I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully 212:201,29[B ]| obtruded on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance 212:201,30[B ]| which I would wish to forget myself, and which 212:201,31[B ]| no obligation less than the present should induce me to 212:201,32[B ]| unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, 212:201,33[B ]| I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more 212:201,34[B ]| than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of 212:201,35[B ]| my mother's nephew, Colonel*Fitzwilliam, and myself. 212:201,36[B ]| About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an 212:201,37[B ]| establishment formed for her in London; and last summer 212:201,38[B ]| she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; 212:202,01[B ]| and thither also went Mr%*Wickham, undoubtedly by 212:202,02[B ]| design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance 212:202,03[B ]| between him and Mrs%*Younge, in whose character we 212:202,04[B ]| were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance 212:202,05[B ]| and aid, he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, 212:202,06[B ]| whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of 212:202,07[B ]| his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to 212:202,08[B ]| believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. 212:202,09[B ]| She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and 212:202,10[B ]| after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add, that 212:202,11[B ]| I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them 212:202,12[B ]| unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement, 212:202,13[B ]| and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving 212:202,14[B ]| and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to 212:202,15[B ]| as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may 212:202,16[B ]| imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my 212:202,17[B ]| sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, 212:202,18[B ]| but I wrote to Mr%*Wickham, who left the place immediately, 212:202,19[B ]| and Mrs%*Younge was of course removed from her 212:202,20[B ]| charge. Mr%*Wickham's chief object was unquestionably 212:202,21[B ]| my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; 212:202,22[B ]| but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging 212:202,23[B ]| himself on me, was a strong inducement. His revenge 212:202,24[B ]| would have been complete indeed. This, madam, is a 212:202,25[B ]| faithful narrative of every event in which we have been 212:202,26[B ]| concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject 212:202,27[B ]| it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty 212:202,28[B ]| towards Mr%*Wickham. I know not in what manner, under 212:202,29[B ]| what form of falsehood he has imposed on you; but his 212:202,30[B ]| success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you 212:202,31[B ]| previously were of every*thing concerning either, detection 212:202,32[B ]| could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly 212:202,33[B ]| not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why 212:202,34[B ]| all this was not told you last night. But I was not then 212:202,35[B ]| master enough of myself to know what could or ought 212:202,36[B ]| to be revealed. For the truth of every*thing here related, 212:202,37[B ]| I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel*Fitzwilliam, 212:202,38[B ]| who from our near relationship and constant 212:203,01[B ]| intimacy, and still more as one of the executors of my 212:203,02[B ]| father's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every 212:203,03[B ]| particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of 212:203,04[B ]| \me\ should make \my\ assertions valueless, you cannot be 212:203,05[B ]| prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; 212:203,06[B ]| and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, 212:203,07[B ]| I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this 212:203,08[B ]| letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will 212:203,09[B ]| only add, God bless you. 212:203,10[B ]| "FITZWILLIAM*DARCY." 213:204,01[' ]| If Elizabeth, when Mr%*Darcy gave her the letter, did 213:204,02[' ]| not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had 213:204,03[' ]| formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such 213:204,04[' ]| as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly she 213:204,05[' ]| went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion 213:204,06[' ]| they excited. Her feelings as she read were scarcely to 213:204,07[' ]| be defined. With amazement did she first understand 213:204,08[' ]| that he believed any apology to be in his power; and 213:204,09[' ]| stedfastly was she persuaded that he could have no 213:204,10[' ]| explanation to give, which a just sense of shame would 213:204,11[' ]| not conceal. With a strong prejudice against every*thing 213:204,12[' ]| he might say, she began his account of what had happened 213:204,13[' ]| at Netherfield. She read, with an eagerness which hardly 213:204,14[' ]| left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of 213:204,15[' ]| knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable 213:204,16[' ]| of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His 213:204,17[' ]| belief of her sister's insensibility, she instantly resolved 213:204,18[' ]| to be false, and his account of the real, the worst objections 213:204,19[' ]| to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of 213:204,20[' ]| doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he 213:204,21[' ]| had done which satisfied her; 213:204,21@a | his style was not penitent, 213:204,22@a | but haughty. It was all pride and insolence. 213:204,23[' ]| But when this subject was succeeded by his account 213:204,24[' ]| of Mr%*Wickham, when she read with somewhat clearer 213:204,25[' ]| attention, a relation of events, which, if true, must overthrow 213:204,26[' ]| every cherished opinion of his worth, and which 213:204,27[' ]| bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself, 213:204,28[' ]| her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more 213:204,29[' ]| difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and 213:204,30[' ]| even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it 213:204,31[' ]| entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, 213:204,31[A ]| "This must be false! 213:204,32[A ]| This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!" ~~ 213:204,33[' ]| and when she had gone through the whole letter, though 213:205,01[' ]| scarcely knowing any*thing of the last page or two, put 213:205,02[' ]| it hastily away, protesting that she would not regard it, 213:205,03[' ]| that she would never look in it again. 213:205,04[' ]| In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that 213:205,05[' ]| could rest on nothing, she walked on; but it would not 213:205,06[' ]| do; in half a minute the letter was unfolded again, and 213:205,07[' ]| collecting herself as well as she could, she again began 213:205,08[' ]| the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, 213:205,09[' ]| and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning 213:205,10[' ]| of every sentence. The account of his connection with 213:205,11[' ]| the Pemberley family, was exactly what he had related 213:205,12[' ]| himself; and the kindness of the late Mr%*Darcy, though 213:205,13[' ]| she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well 213:205,14[' ]| with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the 213:205,15[' ]| other: but when she came to the will, the difference was 213:205,16[' ]| great. What Wickham had said of the living was fresh 213:205,17[' ]| in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was 213:205,18[' ]| impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on 213:205,19[' ]| one side or the other; and, for a few moments, she flattered 213:205,20[' ]| herself that her wishes did not err. But when she read, 213:205,21[' ]| and re-read with the closest attention, the particulars 213:205,22[' ]| immediately following of Wickham's resigning all pretensions 213:205,23[' ]| to the living, of his receiving in lieu, so considerable 213:205,24[' ]| a sum as three thousand pounds, again was she forced 213:205,25[' ]| to hesitate. She put down the letter, weighed every 213:205,26[' ]| circumstance with what she meant to be impartiality ~~ 213:205,27[' ]| deliberated on the probability of each statement ~~ but 213:205,28[' ]| with little success. 213:205,28@a | On both sides it was only assertion. 213:205,29[' ]| Again she read on. But every line proved more clearly 213:205,30[' ]| that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that 213:205,31[' ]| any contrivance could so represent, as to render Mr%*Darcy's 213:205,32[' ]| conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn 213:205,33[' ]| which must make him entirely blameless throughout the 213:205,34[' ]| whole. 213:205,35[' ]| The extravagance and general profligacy which he 213:205,36[' ]| scrupled not to lay to Mr%*Wickham's charge, exceedingly 213:205,37[' ]| shocked her; the more so, as she could bring no proof 213:205,38[' ]| of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his 213:206,01[' ]| entrance into the *****shire*Militia, in which he had 213:206,02[' ]| engaged at the persuasion of the young man, who, on 213:206,03[' ]| meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed 213:206,04[' ]| a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, nothing 213:206,05[' ]| had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. 213:206,06[' ]| As to his real character, had information been in her 213:206,07[' ]| power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, 213:206,08[' ]| voice, and manner, had established him at once 213:206,09[' ]| in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect 213:206,10[' ]| some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of 213:206,11[' ]| integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from 213:206,12[' ]| the attacks of Mr%*Darcy; or at least, by the predominance 213:206,13[' ]| of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she 213:206,14[' ]| would endeavour to class, what Mr%*Darcy had described 213:206,15[' ]| as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. 213:206,16[' ]| But no such recollection befriended her. She could see 213:206,17[' ]| him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; 213:206,18[' ]| but she could remember no more substantial good than 213:206,19[' ]| the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the 213:206,20[' ]| regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. 213:206,21[' ]| After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once 213:206,22[' ]| more continued to read. But, alas! the story which 213:206,23[' ]| followed of his designs on Miss*Darcy, received some 213:206,24[' ]| confirmation from what had passed between Colonel*Fitzwilliam 213:206,25[' ]| and herself only the morning before; and at 213:206,26[' ]| last she was referred for the truth of every particular to 213:206,27[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam himself ~~ from whom she had previously 213:206,28[' ]| received the information of his near concern in all his 213:206,29[' ]| cousin's affairs, and whose character she had no reason 213:206,30[' ]| to question. At one time she had almost resolved on 213:206,31[' ]| applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness 213:206,32[' ]| of the application, and at length wholly banished 213:206,33[' ]| by the conviction that Mr%*Darcy would never have 213:206,34[' ]| hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been well assured 213:206,35[' ]| of his cousin's corroboration. 213:206,36[' ]| She perfectly remembered every*thing that had passed 213:206,37[' ]| in conversation between Wickham and herself, in their 213:206,38[' ]| first evening at Mr%*Philips's. Many of his expressions 213:207,01[' ]| were still fresh in her memory. She was \now\ struck with 213:207,02[' ]| the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, 213:207,03[' ]| and wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the 213:207,04[' ]| indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, 213:207,05[' ]| and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. 213:207,06[' ]| She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear 213:207,07[' ]| of seeing Mr%*Darcy ~~ that Mr%*Darcy might leave the 213:207,08[' ]| country, but that \he\ should stand his ground; yet he 213:207,09[' ]| had avoided the Netherfield ball the very next week. 213:207,10[' ]| She remembered also, that till the Netherfield family had 213:207,11[' ]| quitted the country, he had told his story to no*one but 213:207,12[' ]| herself; but that after their removal, it had been every*where 213:207,13[' ]| discussed; that he had then no reserves, no scruples 213:207,14[' ]| in sinking Mr%*Darcy's character, though he had assured 213:207,15[' ]| her that respect for the father, would always prevent his 213:207,16[' ]| exposing the son. 213:207,17@a | How differently did every*thing now appear in which 213:207,18@a | he was concerned! His attentions to Miss*King were 213:207,19@a | now the consequence of views solely and hatefully mercenary; 213:207,20@a | and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer 213:207,21@a | the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp 213:207,22@a | at any*thing. His behaviour to herself could now have 213:207,23@a | had no tolerable motive; he had either been deceived 213:207,24@a | with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his 213:207,25@a | vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed 213:207,26@a | she had most incautiously shewn. 213:207,26[' ]| Every lingering struggle 213:207,27[' ]| in his favour grew fainter and fainter; and in farther 213:207,28[' ]| justification of Mr%*Darcy, she could not but allow that 213:207,29@a | Mr%*Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago 213:207,30@a | asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that proud and 213:207,31@a | repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in the whole 213:207,32@a | course of their acquaintance, an acquaintance which had 213:207,33@a | latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort 213:207,34@a | of intimacy with his ways, seen any*thing that betrayed 213:207,35@a | him to be unprincipled or unjust ~~ any*thing that spoke 213:207,36@a | him of irreligious or immoral habits. That among his 213:207,37@a | own connections he was esteemed and valued ~~ that even 213:207,38@a | Wickham had allowed him merit as a brother, and that 213:208,01@a | she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his 213:208,02@a | sister as to prove him capable of \some\ amiable feeling. 213:208,03@a | That had his actions been what Wickham represented 213:208,04@a | them, so gross a violation of every*thing right could hardly 213:208,05@a | have been concealed from the world; and that friendship 213:208,06@a | between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man 213:208,07@a | as Mr%*Bingley, was incomprehensible. 213:208,08[' ]| She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. ~~ Of neither 213:208,09[' ]| Darcy nor Wickham could she think, without feeling that 213:208,10[' ]| she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. 213:208,11[A ]| "How despicably have I acted!" 213:208,11[' ]| she cried. ~~ 213:208,11[A ]| "I, who 213:208,12[A ]| have prided myself on my discernment! ~~ I, who have 213:208,13[A ]| valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained 213:208,14[A ]| the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity, 213:208,15[A ]| in useless or blameable distrust. ~~ How humiliating is this 213:208,16[A ]| discovery! ~~ Yet, how just a humiliation! ~~ Had I been 213:208,17[A ]| in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. 213:208,18[A ]| But vanity, not love, has been my folly. ~~ Pleased with 213:208,19[A ]| the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the 213:208,20[A ]| other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have 213:208,21[A ]| courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason 213:208,22[A ]| away, where either were concerned. Till this moment, 213:208,23[A ]| I never knew myself." 213:208,24[' ]| From herself to Jane ~~ from Jane to Bingley, her 213:208,25[' ]| thoughts were in a line which soon brought to her recollection 213:208,26[' ]| that Mr%*Darcy's explanation \there\, had appeared 213:208,27[' ]| very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely different 213:208,28[' ]| was the effect of a second perusal. ~~ 213:208,28@a | How could she deny 213:208,29@a | that credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she 213:208,30@a | had been obliged to give in the other? ~~ He declared 213:208,31@a | himself to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister's 213:208,32@a | attachment; ~~ and she could not help remembering what 213:208,33@a | Charlotte's opinion had always been. ~~ Neither could she 213:208,34@a | deny the justice of his description of Jane. ~~ 213:208,34[' ]| She felt that 213:208,35@a | Jane's feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and 213:208,36@a | that there was a constant complacency in her air and 213:208,37@a | manner, not often united with great sensibility. 213:208,38[' ]| When she came to that part of the letter in which 213:209,01[' ]| her family were mentioned, in terms of such mortifying, 213:209,02[' ]| yet merited reproach, her sense of shame was severe. 213:209,03[' ]| The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial, 213:209,04[' ]| and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, 213:209,05[' ]| as having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming 213:209,06[' ]| all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger 213:209,07[' ]| impression on his mind than on hers. 213:209,08[' ]| The compliment to herself and her sister, was not 213:209,09[' ]| unfelt. It soothed, but it could not console her for the 213:209,10[' ]| contempt which had been thus self-attracted by the rest 213:209,11[' ]| of her family; ~~ and as she considered that Jane's disappointment 213:209,12[' ]| had in fact been the work of her nearest 213:209,13[' ]| relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both 213:209,14[' ]| must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt 213:209,15[' ]| depressed beyond any*thing she had ever known before. 213:209,16[' ]| After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving 213:209,17[' ]| way to every variety of thought; re-considering events, 213:209,18[' ]| determining probabilities, and reconciling herself as well 213:209,19[' ]| as she could, to a change so sudden and so important, 213:209,20[' ]| fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence, made her 213:209,21[' ]| at length return home; and she entered the house with 213:209,22[' ]| the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution 213:209,23[' ]| of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit for 213:209,24[' ]| conversation. 213:209,25[' ]| She was immediately told, that 213:209,25@x | the two gentlemen from 213:209,26@x | Rosings had each called during her absence; Mr%*Darcy, 213:209,27@x | only for a few minutes to take leave, but that Colonel*Fitzwilliam 213:209,28@x | had been sitting with them at least an hour, 213:209,29@x | hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after 213:209,30@x | her till she could be found. ~~ 213:209,30[' ]| Elizabeth could but just 213:209,31[' ]| \affect\ concern in missing him; she really rejoiced at it. 213:209,32[' ]| Colonel*Fitzwilliam was no longer an object. She could 213:209,33[' ]| think only of her letter. 214:210,01[' ]| The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; 214:210,02[' ]| and Mr%*Collins having been in waiting near the lodges, 214:210,03[' ]| to make them his parting obeisance, was able to bring 214:210,04[' ]| home the pleasing intelligence, of their appearing in very 214:210,05[' ]| good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be 214:210,06[' ]| expected, after the melancholy scene so lately gone 214:210,07[' ]| through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened to 214:210,08[' ]| console Lady*Catherine, and her daughter; and on his 214:210,09[' ]| return, brought back, with great satisfaction, a message 214:210,10[' ]| from her Ladyship, importing that 214:210,10@l | she felt herself so 214:210,11@l | dull as to make her very desirous of having them all to 214:210,12@l | dine with her. 214:210,13[' ]| Elizabeth could not see Lady*Catherine without recollecting, 214:210,14[' ]| that 214:210,14@a | had she chosen it, she might by this time 214:210,15@a | have been presented to her, as her future niece; 214:210,15[' ]| nor 214:210,16[' ]| could she think, without a smile, of what her ladyship's 214:210,17[' ]| indignation would have been. 214:210,17@a | "What would she have 214:210,18@a | said? ~~ how would she have behaved?" 214:210,18[' ]| were questions 214:210,19[' ]| with which she amused herself. 214:210,20[' ]| Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings 214:210,21[' ]| party. ~~ 214:210,21[L ]| "I assure you, I feel it exceedingly," 214:210,21[' ]| said Lady*Catherine; 214:210,22[L ]| "I believe nobody feels the loss of friends so 214:210,23[L ]| much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these 214:210,24[L ]| young men; and know them to be so much attached to 214:210,25[L ]| me! ~~ They were excessively sorry to go! But so they 214:210,26[L ]| always are. The dear colonel rallied his spirits tolerably 214:210,27[L ]| till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, 214:210,28[L ]| more I think than last year. His attachment to Rosings, 214:210,29[L ]| certainly increases." 214:210,30[' ]| Mr%*Collins had a compliment, and an allusion to throw 214:210,31[' ]| in here, which were kindly smiled on by the mother and 214:210,32[' ]| daughter. 214:211,01[' ]| Lady*Catherine observed, after dinner, that 214:211,01@l | Miss*Bennet 214:211,02@l | seemed out of spirits, 214:211,02[' ]| and immediately accounting 214:211,03[' ]| for it herself, by supposing that 214:211,03@l | she did not like to 214:211,04@l | go home again so soon, 214:211,04[' ]| she added, 214:211,05[L ]| "But if that is the case, you must write to your mother 214:211,06[L ]| to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs%*Collins 214:211,07[L ]| will be very glad of your company, I am sure." 214:211,08[A ]| "I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind 214:211,09[A ]| invitation," 214:211,09[' ]| replied Elizabeth, 214:211,09[A ]| "but it is not in my power 214:211,10[A ]| to accept it. ~~ I must be in town next Saturday." 214:211,11[L ]| "Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six 214:211,12[L ]| weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs%*Collins 214:211,13[L ]| so before you came. There can be no occasion 214:211,14[L ]| for your going so soon. Mrs%*Bennet could certainly spare 214:211,15[L ]| you for another fortnight." 214:211,16[A ]| "But my father cannot. ~~ He wrote last week to hurry 214:211,17[A ]| my return." 214:211,18[L ]| "Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your 214:211,19[L ]| mother can. ~~ Daughters are never of so much consequence 214:211,20[L ]| to a father. And if you will stay another \month\ complete, 214:211,21[L ]| it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London, 214:211,22[L ]| for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as 214:211,23[L ]| Dawson does not object to the Barouche*box, there 214:211,24[L ]| will be very good room for one of you ~~ and indeed, 214:211,25[L ]| if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not 214:211,26[L ]| object to taking you both, as you are neither of you 214:211,27[L ]| large." 214:211,28[A ]| "You are all kindness, Madam; but I believe we must 214:211,29[A ]| abide by our original plan." 214:211,30[' ]| Lady*Catherine seemed resigned. 214:211,31[L ]| "Mrs%*Collins, you must send a servant with them. 214:211,32[L ]| You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the 214:211,33[L ]| idea of two young women travelling post by themselves. 214:211,34[L ]| It is highly improper. You must contrive to send somebody. 214:211,35[L ]| I have the greatest dislike in the world to that 214:211,36[L ]| sort of thing. ~~ Young women should always be properly 214:211,37[L ]| guarded and attended, according to their situation in 214:211,38[L ]| life. When my niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last 214:212,01[L ]| summer, I made a point of her having two men*servants 214:212,02[L ]| go with her. ~~ Miss*Darcy, the daughter of Mr%*Darcy, 214:212,03[L ]| of Pemberley, and Lady*Anne, could not have appeared 214:212,04[L ]| with propriety in a different manner. ~~ I am excessively 214:212,05[L ]| attentive to all those things. You must send John with 214:212,06[L ]| the young ladies, Mrs%*Collins. I am glad it occurred to 214:212,07[L ]| me to mention it; for it would really be discreditable to 214:212,08[L ]| \you\ to let them go alone." 214:212,09[A ]| "My uncle is to send a servant for us." 214:212,10[L ]| "Oh! ~~ Your uncle! ~~ He keeps a man-servant, does 214:212,11[L ]| he? ~~ I am very glad you have somebody who thinks of 214:212,12[L ]| those things. Where shall you change horses? ~~ Oh! 214:212,13[L ]| Bromley, of course. ~~ If you mention my name at the*Bell, 214:212,14[L ]| you will be attended to." 214:212,15[' ]| Lady*Catherine had many other questions to ask 214:212,16[' ]| respecting their journey, and as she did not answer them 214:212,17[' ]| all herself, attention was necessary, which Elizabeth 214:212,18[' ]| believed to be lucky for her; or, with a mind so occupied, 214:212,19[' ]| she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection 214:212,20[' ]| must be reserved for solitary hours; whenever she was 214:212,21[' ]| alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and 214:212,22[' ]| not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which 214:212,23[' ]| she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections. 214:212,24[' ]| 214:212,25[' ]| Mr%*Darcy's letter, she was in a fair way of soon knowing 214:212,26[' ]| by heart. She studied every sentence: and her feelings 214:212,27[' ]| towards its writer were at times widely different. When 214:212,28[' ]| she remembered the style of his address, she was still 214:212,29[' ]| full of indignation; but when she considered how unjustly 214:212,30[' ]| she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was 214:212,31[' ]| turned against herself; and his disappointed feelings 214:212,32[' ]| became the object of compassion. His attachment excited 214:212,33[' ]| gratitude, his general character respect; but she could 214:212,34[' ]| not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent 214:212,35[' ]| her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see 214:212,36[' ]| him again. In her own past behaviour, there was a constant 214:212,37[' ]| source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy 214:212,38[' ]| defects of her family a subject of yet heavier chagrin. 214:213,01@a | They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented 214:213,02@a | with laughing at them, would never exert himself to 214:213,03@a | restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and 214:213,04@a | her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was 214:213,05@a | entirely insensible of the evil. 214:213,05[' ]| Elizabeth had frequently 214:213,06[' ]| united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence 214:213,07[' ]| of Catherine and Lydia; 214:213,07@a | but while they were supported 214:213,08@a | by their mother's indulgence, what chance could there be 214:213,09@a | of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited, irritable, and 214:213,10@a | completely under Lydia's guidance, had been always 214:213,11@a | affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and 214:213,12@a | careless, would scarcely give them a hearing. They were 214:213,13@a | ignorant, idle, and vain. While there was an officer in 214:213,14@a | Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while Meryton 214:213,15@a | was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going 214:213,16@a | there for*ever. 214:213,17[' ]| Anxiety on Jane's behalf, was another prevailing concern, 214:213,18[' ]| and Mr%*Darcy's explanation, by restoring Bingley 214:213,19[' ]| to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of 214:213,20[' ]| what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to have 214:213,21[' ]| been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless 214:213,22[' ]| any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in 214:213,23[' ]| his friend. How grievous then was the thought that, 214:213,24@a | of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete 214:213,25@a | with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had 214:213,26@a | been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own 214:213,27@a | family! 214:213,28[' ]| When to these recollections was added the developement 214:213,29[' ]| of Wickham's character, it may be easily believed that 214:213,30[' ]| the happy spirits which had seldom been depressed before, 214:213,31[' ]| were now so much affected as to make it almost impossible 214:213,32[' ]| for her to appear tolerably cheerful. 214:213,33[' ]| Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during 214:213,34[' ]| the last week of her stay, as they had been at first. The 214:213,35[' ]| very last evening was spent there; and her Ladyship 214:213,36[' ]| again enquired minutely into the particulars of their 214:213,37[' ]| journey, gave them directions as to the best method of 214:213,38[' ]| packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing 214:214,01[' ]| gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself 214:214,02[' ]| obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, 214:214,03[' ]| and pack her trunk afresh. 214:214,04[' ]| When they parted, Lady*Catherine, with great condescension, 214:214,05[' ]| wished them a good journey, and invited them 214:214,06[' ]| to come to Hunsford again next year; and Miss*De*Bourgh 214:214,07[' ]| exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand 214:214,08[' ]| to both. 215:215,01[' ]| On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr%*Collins met 215:215,02[' ]| for breakfast a few minutes before the others appeared; 215:215,03[' ]| and he took the opportunity of paying the parting civilities 215:215,04[' ]| which he deemed indispensably necessary. 215:215,05[K ]| "I know not, Miss*Elizabeth," 215:215,05[' ]| said he, 215:215,05[K ]| "whether 215:215,06[K ]| Mrs%*Collins has yet expressed her sense of your kindness 215:215,07[K ]| in coming to us, but I am very certain you will not leave 215:215,08[K ]| the house without receiving her thanks for it. The favour 215:215,09[K ]| of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We 215:215,10[K ]| know how little there is to tempt any*one to our humble 215:215,11[K ]| abode. Our plain manner of living, our small rooms, and 215:215,12[K ]| few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must 215:215,13[K ]| make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like yourself; 215:215,14[K ]| but I hope you will believe us grateful for the 215:215,15[K ]| condescension, and that we have done every*thing in our 215:215,16[K ]| power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly." 215:215,17[' ]| Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of 215:215,18[' ]| happiness. 215:215,18@a | She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment; 215:215,19@a | and the pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the kind 215:215,20@a | attentions she had received, must make \her\ feel the obliged. 215:215,21[' ]| Mr%*Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling 215:215,22[' ]| solemnity replied, 215:215,23[K ]| "It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you 215:215,24[K ]| have passed your time not disagreeably. We have 215:215,25[K ]| certainly done our best; and most fortunately having it 215:215,26[K ]| in our power to introduce you to very superior society, 215:215,27[K ]| and from our connections with Rosings, the frequent means 215:215,28[K ]| of varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter 215:215,29[K ]| ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been 215:215,30[K ]| entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to Lady*Catherine's 215:215,31[K ]| family is indeed the sort of extraordinary 215:216,01[K ]| advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see 215:216,02[K ]| on what a footing we are. You see how continually we are 215:216,03[K ]| engaged there. In truth I must acknowledge that, with 215:216,04[K ]| all the disadvantages of this humble parsonage, I should 215:216,05[K ]| not think any*one abiding in it an object of compassion, 215:216,06[K ]| while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings." 215:216,07[' ]| Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; 215:216,08[' ]| and he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth 215:216,09[' ]| tried to unite civility and truth in a few short 215:216,10[' ]| sentences. 215:216,11[K ]| "You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of 215:216,12[K ]| us into Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself 215:216,13[K ]| at least that you will be able to do so. Lady*Catherine's 215:216,14[K ]| great attentions to Mrs%*Collins you have been a daily 215:216,15[K ]| witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear 215:216,16[K ]| that your friend has drawn an unfortunate ~~ but on this 215:216,17[K ]| point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me assure 215:216,18[K ]| you, my dear Miss*Elizabeth, that I can from my heart 215:216,19[K ]| most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My 215:216,20[K ]| dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of 215:216,21[K ]| thinking. There is in every*thing a most remarkable 215:216,22[K ]| resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem 215:216,23[K ]| to have been designed for each other." 215:216,24[' ]| Elizabeth could safely say that 215:216,24@a | it was a great happiness 215:216,25@a | where that was the case, 215:216,25[' ]| and with equal sincerity could 215:216,26[' ]| add that 215:216,26@a | she firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic 215:216,27@a | comforts. 215:216,27[' ]| She was not sorry, however, to have the recital 215:216,28[' ]| of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from whom 215:216,29[' ]| they sprung. 215:216,29@a | Poor Charlotte! ~~ it was melancholy to 215:216,30@a | leave her to such society! ~~ But she had chosen it with 215:216,31@a | her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that her 215:216,32@a | visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion. 215:216,33@a | Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her 215:216,34@a | poultry, and all their dependent concerns, had not yet 215:216,35@a | lost their charms. 215:216,36[' ]| At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened 215:216,37[' ]| on, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to 215:216,38[' ]| be ready. After an affectionate parting between the 215:217,01[' ]| friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by Mr%*Collins, 215:217,02[' ]| and as they walked down the garden, he was 215:217,03[' ]| commissioning her with his best respects to all her family, 215:217,04[' ]| not forgetting his thanks for the kindness he had received 215:217,05[' ]| at Longbourn in the winter, and his compliments to Mr% 215:217,06[' ]| and Mrs%*Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed 215:217,07[' ]| her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point 215:217,08[' ]| of being closed, when he suddenly reminded them, with 215:217,09[' ]| some consternation, that 215:217,09@k | they had hitherto forgotten to 215:217,10@k | leave any message for the ladies at Rosings. 215:217,11[K ]| "But," 215:217,11[' ]| he added, 215:217,11[K ]| "you will of course wish to have 215:217,12[K ]| your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful 215:217,13[K ]| thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here." 215:217,14[' ]| Elizabeth made no objection; ~~ the door was then 215:217,15[' ]| allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off. 215:217,16[V ]| "Good gracious!" 215:217,16[' ]| cried Maria, after a few minutes 215:217,17[' ]| silence, 215:217,17[V ]| "it seems but a day or two since we first came! ~~ 215:217,18[V ]| and yet how many things have happened!" 215:217,19[A ]| "A great many indeed," 215:217,19[' ]| said her companion with 215:217,20[' ]| a sigh. 215:217,21[V ]| "We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking 215:217,22[V ]| tea there twice! ~~ How much I shall have to tell!" 215:217,23[' ]| Elizabeth privately added, 215:217,23[A ]| "And how much I shall 215:217,24[A ]| have to conceal." 215:217,25[' ]| Their journey was performed without much conversation, 215:217,26[' ]| or any alarm; and within four hours of their 215:217,27[' ]| leaving Hunsford, they reached Mr%*Gardiner's house, 215:217,28[' ]| where they were to remain a few days. 215:217,29[' ]| Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity 215:217,30[' ]| of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements 215:217,31[' ]| which the kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. 215:217,32@a | But Jane was to go home with her, and at Longbourn 215:217,33@a | there would be leisure enough for observation. 215:217,34[' ]| It was not without an effort meanwhile that she could 215:217,35[' ]| wait even for Longbourn, before she told her sister of 215:217,36[' ]| Mr%*Darcy's proposals. To know that she had the power 215:217,37[' ]| of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish Jane, 215:218,01[' ]| and must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever 215:218,02[' ]| of her own vanity she had not yet been able to reason 215:218,03[' ]| away, was such a temptation to openness as nothing could 215:218,04[' ]| have conquered, but the state of indecision in which she 215:218,05[' ]| remained, as to the extent of what she should communicate; 215:218,06[' ]| and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of 215:218,07[' ]| being hurried into repeating something of Bingley, which 215:218,08[' ]| might only grieve her sister farther. 216:219,01[' ]| It was the second week in May, in which the three 216:219,02[' ]| young ladies set out together from Gracechurch-street, for 216:219,03[' ]| the town of **** in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew 216:219,04[' ]| near the appointed inn where Mr%*Bennet's carriage was 216:219,05[' ]| to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the 216:219,06[' ]| coachman's punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking 216:219,07[' ]| out of a dining*room up*stairs. These two girls had been 216:219,08[' ]| above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting 216:219,09[' ]| an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and 216:219,10[' ]| dressing a sallad and cucumber. 216:219,11[' ]| After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed 216:219,12[' ]| a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder 216:219,13[' ]| usually affords, exclaiming, 216:219,13[Y ]| "Is not this nice? is not 216:219,14[Y ]| this an agreeable surprise?" 216:219,15[H ]| "And we mean to treat you all," 216:219,15[' ]| added Lydia; 216:219,15[H ]| "but 216:219,16[H ]| you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours 216:219,17[H ]| at the shop out there." 216:219,17[' ]| Then shewing her purchases: 216:219,18[H ]| "Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think 216:219,19[H ]| it is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it 216:219,20[H ]| as not. I shall pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, 216:219,21[H ]| and see if I can make it up any better." 216:219,22[' ]| And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, 216:219,23[' ]| with perfect unconcern, 216:219,23[H ]| "Oh! but there were two or 216:219,24[H ]| three much uglier in the shop; and when I have bought 216:219,25[H ]| some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I think 216:219,26[H ]| it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify 216:219,27[H ]| what one wears this summer, after the *****shire have 216:219,28[H ]| left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight." 216:219,29[A ]| "Are they indeed?" 216:219,29[' ]| cried Elizabeth, with the greatest 216:219,30[' ]| satisfaction. 216:219,31[H ]| "They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and 216:219,32[H ]| I do so want papa to take us all there for the summer! 216:219,33[H ]| It would be such a delicious scheme, and I dare say 216:220,01[H ]| would hardly cost any*thing at all. Mamma would like 216:220,02[H ]| to go too of all things! Only think what a miserable 216:220,03[H ]| summer else we shall have!" 216:220,04@a | "Yes," 216:220,04[' ]| thought Elizabeth, 216:220,04@a | "\that\ would be a delightful 216:220,05@a | scheme, indeed, and completely do for us at once. 216:220,06@a | Good Heaven! Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, 216:220,07@a | to us, who have been overset already by one poor regiment 216:220,08@a | of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton." 216:220,09[H ]| "Now I have got some news for you," 216:220,09[' ]| said Lydia, as 216:220,10[' ]| they sat down to table. 216:220,10[H ]| "What do you think? It is 216:220,11[H ]| excellent news, capital news, and about a certain person 216:220,12[H ]| that we all like." 216:220,13[' ]| Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the 216:220,14[' ]| waiter was told that he need not stay. Lydia laughed, 216:220,15[' ]| and said, 216:220,16[H ]| "Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. 216:220,17[H ]| You thought the waiter must not hear, as if he cared! 216:220,18[H ]| I dare say he often hears worse things said than I am 216:220,19[H ]| going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad he is 216:220,20[H ]| gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but 216:220,21[H ]| now for my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good 216:220,22[H ]| for the waiter, is not it? There is no danger of Wickham's 216:220,23[H ]| marrying Mary*King. There's for you! She is gone down 216:220,24[H ]| to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is 216:220,25[H ]| safe." 216:220,26[A ]| "And Mary*King is safe!" 216:220,26[' ]| added Elizabeth; 216:220,26[A ]| "safe 216:220,27[A ]| from a connection imprudent as to fortune." 216:220,28[H ]| "She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him." 216:220,29[E ]| "But I hope there is no strong attachment on either 216:220,30[E ]| side," 216:220,30[' ]| said Jane. 216:220,31[H ]| "I am sure there is not on \his\. I will answer for it 216:220,32[H ]| he never cared three straws about her. Who \could\ about 216:220,33[H ]| such a nasty little freckled thing?" 216:220,34[' ]| Elizabeth was shocked to think that, 216:220,34@a | however incapable 216:220,35@a | of such coarseness of \expression\ herself, the coarseness 216:220,36@a | of the \sentiment\ was little other than her own breast had 216:220,37@a | formerly harboured and fancied liberal! 216:220,38[' ]| As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the 216:221,01[' ]| carriage was ordered; and after some contrivance, the 216:221,02[' ]| whole party, with all their boxes, workbags, and parcels, 216:221,03[' ]| and the unwelcome addition of Kitty's and Lydia's 216:221,04[' ]| purchases, were seated in it. 216:221,05[H ]| "How nicely we are crammed in!" 216:221,05[' ]| cried Lydia. 216:221,05[H ]| "I am 216:221,06[H ]| glad I bought my bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having 216:221,07[H ]| another bandbox! Well, now let us be quite comfortable 216:221,08[H ]| and snug, and talk and laugh all the way home. And 216:221,09[H ]| in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you 216:221,10[H ]| all, since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant 216:221,11[H ]| men? Have you had any flirting? I was in great hopes 216:221,12[H ]| that one of you would have got a husband before you came 216:221,13[H ]| back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare. 216:221,14[H ]| She is almost three*and*twenty! Lord, how ashamed 216:221,15[H ]| I should be of not being married before three*and*twenty! 216:221,16[H ]| My aunt Philips wants you so to get husbands, you can't 216:221,17[H ]| think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr%*Collins; 216:221,18[H ]| but \I\ do not think there would have been any fun in it. 216:221,19[H ]| Lord! how I should like to be married before any of you; 216:221,20[H ]| and then I would chaperon you about to all the balls. 216:221,21[H ]| Dear me! we had such a good piece of fun the other day 216:221,22[H ]| at Colonel*Forster's. Kitty and me were to spend the 216:221,23[H ]| day there, and Mrs%*Forster promised to have a little 216:221,24[H ]| dance in the evening; (by*the*bye, Mrs%*Forster and 216:221,25[H ]| me are \such\ friends!) and so she asked the two Harringtons 216:221,26[H ]| to come, but Harriet was ill, and so Pen was forced to 216:221,27[H ]| come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? 216:221,28[H ]| We dressed up Chamberlayne in woman's clothes, on 216:221,29[H ]| purpose to pass for a lady, ~~ only think what fun! Not 216:221,30[H ]| a soul knew of it, but Col% and Mrs%*Forster, and 216:221,31[H ]| Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to 216:221,32[H ]| borrow one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how 216:221,33[H ]| well he looked! When Denny, and Wickham, and Pratt, 216:221,34[H ]| and two or three more of the men came in, they did not 216:221,35[H ]| know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so 216:221,36[H ]| did Mrs%*Forster. I thought I should have died. And 216:221,37[H ]| \that\ made the men suspect something, and then they soon 216:221,38[H ]| found out what was the matter." 216:222,01[' ]| With such kind of histories of their parties and good 216:222,02[' ]| jokes, did Lydia, assisted by Kitty's hints and additions, 216:222,03[' ]| endeavour to amuse her companions all the way to Longbourn. 216:222,04[' ]| Elizabeth listened as little as she could, but there 216:222,05[' ]| was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham's 216:222,06[' ]| name. 216:222,07[' ]| Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs%*Bennet 216:222,08[' ]| rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished beauty; and more 216:222,09[' ]| than once during dinner did Mr%*Bennet say voluntarily 216:222,10[' ]| to Elizabeth, 216:222,11[D ]| "I am glad you are come back, Lizzy." 216:222,12[' ]| Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost 216:222,13[' ]| all the Lucases came to meet Maria and hear the news: 216:222,14[' ]| and various were the subjects which occupied them; 216:222,15[' ]| lady*Lucas was enquiring of Maria across the table, after 216:222,16[' ]| the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs%*Bennet 216:222,17[' ]| was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account 216:222,18[' ]| of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some way 216:222,19[' ]| below her, and on the other, retailing them all to the 216:222,20[' ]| younger Miss*Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice rather 216:222,21[' ]| louder than any other person's, was enumerating the 216:222,22[' ]| various pleasures of the morning to any*body who would 216:222,23[' ]| hear her. 216:222,24[H ]| "Oh! Mary," 216:222,24[' ]| said she, 216:222,24[H ]| "I wish you had gone with 216:222,25[H ]| us, for we had such fun! as we went along, Kitty and 216:222,26[H ]| me drew up all the blinds, and pretended there was 216:222,27[H ]| nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the 216:222,28[H ]| way, if Kitty had not been sick; and when we got to 216:222,29[H ]| the*George, I do think we behaved very handsomely, for 216:222,30[H ]| we treated the other three with the nicest cold luncheon 216:222,31[H ]| in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have 216:222,32[H ]| treated you too. And then when we came away it was 216:222,33[H ]| such fun! I thought we never should have got into the 216:222,34[H ]| coach. I was ready to die of laughter. And then we were 216:222,35[H ]| so merry all the way home! we talked and laughed so 216:222,36[H ]| loud, that any*body might have heard us ten miles off!" 216:222,37[' ]| To this, Mary very gravely replied, 216:222,37[F ]| "Far be it from 216:222,38[F ]| me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleasures. They 216:223,01[F ]| would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female 216:223,02[F ]| minds. But I confess they would have no charms for \me\. 216:223,03[F ]| I should infinitely prefer a book." 216:223,04[' ]| But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom 216:223,05[' ]| listened to any*body for more than half a minute, and 216:223,06[' ]| never attended to Mary at all. 216:223,07[' ]| In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the 216:223,08[' ]| girls to walk to Meryton and see how every*body went on; 216:223,09[' ]| but Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. 216:223,09@a | It should 216:223,10@a | not be said, that the Miss*Bennets could not be at home 216:223,11@a | half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers. 216:223,12[' ]| There was another reason too for her opposition. 216:223,12@a | She 216:223,13@a | dreaded seeing Wickham again, and was resolved to avoid 216:223,14@a | it as long as possible. The comfort to \her\, of the regiment's 216:223,15@a | approaching removal, was indeed beyond expression. In 216:223,16@a | a fortnight they were to go, and once gone, she hoped 216:223,17@a | there could be nothing more to plague her on his account. 216:223,18[' ]| She had not been many hours at home, before she found 216:223,19[' ]| that the Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had given them 216:223,20[' ]| a hint at the inn, was under frequent discussion between 216:223,21[' ]| her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her father had 216:223,22[' ]| not the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers 216:223,23[' ]| were at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her 216:223,24[' ]| mother, though often disheartened, had never yet despaired 216:223,25[' ]| of succeeding at last. 217:224,01[' ]| Elizabeth's impatience to acquaint Jane with what 217:224,02[' ]| had happened could no longer be overcome; and at length 217:224,03[' ]| resolving to suppress every particular in which her sister 217:224,04[' ]| was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, she 217:224,05[' ]| related to her the next morning the chief of the scene 217:224,06[' ]| between Mr%*Darcy and herself. 217:224,07[' ]| Miss*Bennet's astonishment was soon lessened by the 217:224,08[' ]| strong sisterly partiality which made any admiration of 217:224,09[' ]| Elizabeth appear perfectly natural; and all surprise was 217:224,10[' ]| shortly lost in other feelings. 217:224,10@e | She was sorry that Mr%*Darcy 217:224,11@e | should have delivered his sentiments in a manner 217:224,12@e | so little suited to recommend them; but still more was 217:224,13@e | she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister's refusal 217:224,14@e | must have given him. 217:224,15[E ]| "His being so sure of succeeding, was wrong," 217:224,15[' ]| said she; 217:224,16[E ]| "and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider 217:224,17[E ]| how much it must increase his disappointment." 217:224,18[A ]| "Indeed," 217:224,18[' ]| replied Elizabeth, 217:224,18[A ]| "I am heartily sorry for 217:224,19[A ]| him; but he has other feelings which will probably soon 217:224,20[A ]| drive away his regard for me. You do not blame me, 217:224,21[A ]| however, for refusing him?" 217:224,22[E ]| "Blame you! Oh, no." 217:224,23[A ]| "But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of 217:224,24[A ]| Wickham." 217:224,25[E ]| "No ~~ I do not know that you were wrong in saying 217:224,26[E ]| what you did." 217:224,27[A ]| "But you \will\ know it, when I have told you what 217:224,28[A ]| happened the very next day." 217:224,29[' ]| She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its 217:224,30[' ]| contents as far as they concerned George*Wickham. 217:224,31[' ]| What a stroke was this for poor Jane! who would willingly 217:224,32[' ]| have gone through the world without believing that so 217:224,33[' ]| much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, 217:225,01[' ]| as was here collected in one individual. Nor was Darcy's 217:225,02[' ]| vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capable of 217:225,03[' ]| consoling her for such discovery. Most earnestly did she 217:225,04[' ]| labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear 217:225,05[' ]| one, without involving the other. 217:225,06[A ]| "This will not do," 217:225,06[' ]| said Elizabeth. 217:225,06[A ]| "You never will 217:225,07[A ]| be able to make both of them good for any*thing. Take 217:225,08[A ]| your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. 217:225,09[A ]| There is but such a quantity of merit between them; 217:225,10[A ]| just enough to make one good sort of man; and of late 217:225,11[A ]| it has been shifting about pretty much. For my part, 217:225,12[A ]| I am inclined to believe it all Mr%*Darcy's, but you shall 217:225,13[A ]| do as you chuse." 217:225,14[' ]| It was some time, however, before a smile could be 217:225,15[' ]| extorted from Jane. 217:225,16[E ]| "I do not know when I have been more shocked," 217:225,17[' ]| said she. 217:225,17[E ]| "Wickham so very bad! It is almost past 217:225,18[E ]| belief. And poor Mr%*Darcy! dear Lizzy, only consider 217:225,19[E ]| what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! 217:225,20[E ]| and with the knowledge of your ill*opinion too! and having 217:225,21[E ]| to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing. 217:225,22[E ]| I am sure you must feel it so." 217:225,23[A ]| "Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away 217:225,24[A ]| by seeing you so full of both. I know you will do him 217:225,25[A ]| such ample justice, that I am growing every moment 217:225,26[A ]| more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes 217:225,27[A ]| me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, 217:225,28[A ]| my heart will be as light as a feather." 217:225,29[E ]| "Poor Wickham; there is such an expression of goodness 217:225,30[E ]| in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness 217:225,31[E ]| in his manner." 217:225,32[A ]| "There certainly was some great mismanagement in 217:225,33[A ]| the education of those two young men. One has got all 217:225,34[A ]| the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it." 217:225,35[E ]| "I never thought Mr%*Darcy so deficient in the \appearance\ 217:225,36[E ]| of it as you used to do." 217:225,37[A ]| "And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking 217:225,38[A ]| so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. It is 217:226,01[A ]| such a spur to one's genius, such an opening for wit to 217:226,02[A ]| have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually 217:226,03[A ]| abusive without saying any*thing just; but one cannot 217:226,04[A ]| be always laughing at a man without now and then 217:226,05[A ]| stumbling on something witty." 217:226,06[E ]| "Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you 217:226,07[E ]| could not treat the matter as you do now." 217:226,08[A ]| "Indeed I could not. I was uncomfortable enough. 217:226,09[A ]| I was very uncomfortable, I may say unhappy. And with 217:226,10[A ]| no*one to speak to, of what I felt, no Jane to comfort 217:226,11[A ]| me and say that I had not been so very weak and vain 217:226,12[A ]| and nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! how I wanted you!" 217:226,13[E ]| "How unfortunate that you should have used such very 217:226,14[E ]| strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr%*Darcy, 217:226,15[E ]| for now they \do\ appear wholly undeserved." 217:226,16[A ]| "Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with 217:226,17[A ]| bitterness, is a most natural consequence of the prejudices 217:226,18[A ]| I had been encouraging. There is one point, on which 217:226,19[A ]| I want your advice. I want to be told whether I ought, 217:226,20[A ]| or ought not to make our acquaintance in general understand 217:226,21[A ]| Wickham's character." 217:226,22[' ]| Miss*Bennet paused a little and then replied, 217:226,22[E ]| "Surely 217:226,23[E ]| there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. 217:226,24[E ]| What is your own opinion?" 217:226,25[A ]| "That it ought not to be attempted. Mr%*Darcy has 217:226,26[A ]| not authorised me to make his communication public. 217:226,27[A ]| On the contrary every particular relative to his sister, 217:226,28[A ]| was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself; 217:226,29[A ]| and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest 217:226,30[A ]| of his conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice 217:226,31[A ]| against Mr%*Darcy is so violent, that it would be 217:226,32[A ]| the death of half the good people in Meryton, to attempt 217:226,33[A ]| to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it. 217:226,34[A ]| Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not 217:226,35[A ]| signify to anybody here, what he really is. Sometime 217:226,36[A ]| hence it will be all found out, and then we may laugh 217:226,37[A ]| at their stupidity in not knowing it before. At present 217:226,38[A ]| I will say nothing about it." 217:227,01[E ]| "You are quite right. To have his errors made public 217:227,02[E ]| might ruin him for*ever. He is now perhaps sorry for 217:227,03[E ]| what he has done, and anxious to re-establish a character. 217:227,04[E ]| We must not make him desperate." 217:227,05[' ]| The tumult of Elizabeth's mind was allayed by this 217:227,06[' ]| conversation. She had got rid of two of the secrets which 217:227,07[' ]| had weighed on her for a fortnight, and was certain of 217:227,08[' ]| a willing listener in Jane, whenever she might wish to 217:227,09[' ]| talk again on either. But there was still something lurking 217:227,10[' ]| behind, of which prudence forbad the disclosure. She dared 217:227,11[' ]| not relate the other half of Mr%*Darcy's letter, nor explain to 217:227,12[' ]| her sister how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. 217:227,13[' ]| Here was knowledge in which no*one could partake; 217:227,14[' ]| and she was sensible that nothing less than a perfect 217:227,15[' ]| understanding between the parties could justify her in 217:227,16[' ]| throwing off this last incumbrance of mystery. 217:227,16[A ]| "And 217:227,17[A ]| then," 217:227,17[' ]| said she, 217:227,17[A ]| "if that very improbable event should 217:227,18[A ]| ever take place, I shall merely be able to tell what Bingley 217:227,19[A ]| may tell in a much more agreeable manner himself. The 217:227,20[A ]| liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost 217:227,21[A ]| all its value!" 217:227,22[' ]| She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to 217:227,23[' ]| observe the real state of her sister's spirits. 217:227,23@a | Jane was 217:227,24@a | not happy. She still cherished a very tender affection 217:227,25@a | for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in love 217:227,26@a | before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, 217:227,27@a | and from her age and disposition, greater steadiness than 217:227,28@a | first attachments often boast; and so fervently did she 217:227,29@a | value his remembrance, and prefer him to every other 217:227,30@a | man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the 217:227,31@a | feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence 217:227,32@a | of those regrets, which must have been injurious 217:227,33@a | to her own health and their tranquillity. 217:227,34[D ]| "Well, Lizzy," 217:227,34[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet one day, 217:227,34[D ]| "what is 217:227,35[D ]| your opinion \now\ of this sad business of Jane's? For my 217:227,36[D ]| part, I am determined never to speak of it again to anybody. 217:227,37[D ]| I told my sister Philips so the other day. But 217:227,38[D ]| I cannot find out that Jane saw any*thing of him in London. 217:228,01[D ]| Well, he is a very undeserving young man ~~ and I do not 217:228,02[D ]| suppose there is the least chance in the world of her ever 217:228,03[D ]| getting him now. There is no talk of his coming to Netherfield 217:228,04[D ]| again in the summer; and I have enquired of every*body 217:228,05[D ]| too, who is likely to know." 217:228,06[A ]| "I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield 217:228,07[A ]| any more." 217:228,08[D ]| "Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants 217:228,09[D ]| him to come. Though I shall always say that he used 217:228,10[D ]| my daughter extremely ill; and if I was her, I would 217:228,11[D ]| not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure 217:228,12[D ]| Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry 217:228,13[D ]| for what he has done." 217:228,14[' ]| But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any 217:228,15[' ]| such expectation, she made no answer. 217:228,16[D ]| "Well, Lizzy," 217:228,16[' ]| continued her mother soon afterwards, 217:228,17[D ]| "and so the Collinses live very comfortable, do they? 217:228,18[D ]| Well, well, I only hope it will last. And what sort of table 217:228,19[D ]| do they keep? Charlotte is an excellent manager, I dare 217:228,20[D ]| say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, she is saving 217:228,21[D ]| enough. There is nothing extravagant in \their\ housekeeping, 217:228,22[D ]| I dare say." 217:228,23[A ]| "No, nothing at all." 217:228,24[D ]| "A great deal of good management, depend upon it. 217:228,25[D ]| Yes, yes. \They\ will take care not to outrun their income. 217:228,26[D ]| \They\ will never be distressed for money. Well, much good 217:228,27[D ]| may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often talk of 217:228,28[D ]| having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look 217:228,29[D ]| upon it quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that 217:228,30[D ]| happens. 217:228,31[A ]| "It was a subject which they could not mention before 217:228,32[A ]| me." 217:228,33[D ]| "No. It would have been strange if they had. But 217:228,34[D ]| I make no doubt, they often talk of it between themselves. 217:228,35[D ]| Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully 217:228,36[D ]| their own, so much the better. \I\ should be ashamed of 217:228,37[D ]| having one that was only entailed on me." 218:229,01[' ]| The first week of their return was soon gone. The 218:229,02[' ]| second began. It was the last of the regiment's stay in 218:229,03[' ]| Meryton, and all the young ladies in the neighbourhood 218:229,04[' ]| were drooping apace. The dejection was almost universal. 218:229,05[' ]| The elder Miss*Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink, 218:229,06[' ]| and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. 218:229,07[' ]| Very frequently were they reproached for this 218:229,08[' ]| insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was 218:229,09[' ]| extreme, and who could not comprehend such hard-heartedness 218:229,10[' ]| in any of the family. 218:229,11[Y ]| "Good Heaven! What is to become of us! What are 218:229,12[Y ]| we to do!" 218:229,12[' ]| would they often exclaim in the bitterness 218:229,13[' ]| of woe. 218:229,13[Y ]| "How can you be smiling so, Lizzy?" 218:229,14[' ]| Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she 218:229,15[' ]| remembered what she had herself endured on a similar 218:229,16[' ]| occasion, five*and*twenty years ago. 218:229,17[D ]| "I am sure," 218:229,17[' ]| said she, 218:229,17[D ]| "I cried for two days together 218:229,18[D ]| when Colonel*Millar's regiment went away. I thought 218:229,19[D ]| I should have broke my heart." 218:229,20[H ]| "I am sure I shall break \mine\," 218:229,20[' ]| said Lydia. 218:229,21[D ]| "If one could but go to Brighton!" 218:229,21[' ]| observed Mrs%*Bennet. 218:229,22[' ]| 218:229,23[H ]| "Oh, yes! ~~ if one could but go to Brighton! But papa 218:229,24[H ]| is so disagreeable." 218:229,25[D ]| "A little sea-bathing would set me up for*ever." 218:229,26[G ]| "And my aunt Philips is sure it would do \me\ a great 218:229,27[G ]| deal of good," 218:229,27[' ]| added Kitty. 218:229,28[' ]| Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually 218:229,29[' ]| through Longbourn-house. Elizabeth tried to 218:229,30[' ]| be diverted by them; but all sense of pleasure was lost 218:229,31[' ]| in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr%*Darcy's objections; 218:229,32[' ]| and never had she before been so much disposed 218:229,33[' ]| to pardon his interference in the views of his friend. 218:230,01[' ]| But the gloom of Lydia's prospect was shortly cleared 218:230,02[' ]| away; for she received an invitation from Mrs%*Forster, 218:230,03[' ]| the wife of the Colonel of the regiment, to accompany her 218:230,04[' ]| to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a very young 218:230,05[' ]| woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good*humour 218:230,06[' ]| and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia 218:230,07[' ]| to each other, and out of their \three\ months' acquaintance 218:230,08[' ]| they had been intimate \two\. 218:230,09[' ]| The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of 218:230,10[' ]| Mrs%*Forster, the delight of Mrs%*Bennet, and the mortification 218:230,11[' ]| of Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive 218:230,12[' ]| to her sister's feelings, Lydia flew about the house in 218:230,13[' ]| restless ecstacy, calling for every*one's congratulations, and 218:230,14[' ]| laughing and talking with more violence than ever; whilst 218:230,15[' ]| the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her 218:230,16[' ]| fate in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish. 218:230,17[G ]| "I cannot see why Mrs%*Forster should not ask \me\ as 218:230,18[G ]| well as Lydia," 218:230,18[' ]| said she, 218:230,18[G ]| "though I am \not\ her particular 218:230,19[G ]| friend. I have just as much right to be asked as she has, 218:230,20[G ]| and more too, for I am two years older." 218:230,21[' ]| In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, 218:230,22[' ]| and Jane to make her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, 218:230,23[' ]| this invitation was so far from exciting in her the same 218:230,24[' ]| feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she considered 218:230,25[' ]| it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense 218:230,26[' ]| for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make 218:230,27[' ]| her were it known, she could not help secretly advising 218:230,28[' ]| her father not to let her go. She represented to him all 218:230,29[' ]| the improprieties of Lydia's general behaviour, the little 218:230,30[' ]| advantage she could derive from the friendship of such 218:230,31[' ]| a woman as Mrs%*Forster, and the probability of her being 218:230,32[' ]| yet more imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, 218:230,33[' ]| where the temptations must be greater than at home. 218:230,34[' ]| He heard her attentively, and then said, 218:230,35[C ]| "Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself 218:230,36[C ]| in some public place or other, and we can never expect her 218:230,37[C ]| to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her 218:230,38[C ]| family as under the present circumstances." 218:231,01[A ]| "If you were aware," 218:231,01[' ]| said Elizabeth, 218:231,01[A ]| "of the very great 218:231,02[A ]| disadvantage to us all, which must arise from the public 218:231,03[A ]| notice of Lydia's unguarded and imprudent manner; nay, 218:231,04[A ]| which has already arisen from it, I am sure you would 218:231,05[A ]| judge differently in the affair." 218:231,06[C ]| "Already arisen!" 218:231,06[' ]| repeated Mr%*Bennet. 218:231,06[C ]| "What, has 218:231,07[C ]| she frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little 218:231,08[C ]| Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such squeamish youths 218:231,09[C ]| as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity, 218:231,10[C ]| are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the 218:231,11[C ]| pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof by Lydia's folly." 218:231,12[A ]| "Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries 218:231,13[A ]| to resent. It is not of peculiar, but of general evils, 218:231,14[A ]| which I am now complaining. Our importance, our 218:231,15[A ]| respectability in the world, must be affected by the wild 218:231,16[A ]| volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which 218:231,17[A ]| mark Lydia's character. Excuse me ~~ for I must speak 218:231,18[A ]| plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble 218:231,19[A ]| of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that 218:231,20[A ]| her present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, 218:231,21[A ]| she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her 218:231,22[A ]| character will be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most 218:231,23[A ]| determined flirt that ever made herself and her family 218:231,24[A ]| ridiculous. A flirt too, in the worst and meanest degree 218:231,25[A ]| of flirtation; without any attraction beyond youth and 218:231,26[A ]| a tolerable person; and from the ignorance and emptiness 218:231,27[A ]| of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of 218:231,28[A ]| that universal contempt which her rage for admiration 218:231,29[A ]| will excite. In this danger Kitty is also comprehended. 218:231,30[A ]| She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain, ignorant, 218:231,31[A ]| idle, and absolutely uncontrouled! Oh! my dear father, 218:231,32[A ]| can you suppose it possible that they will not be censured 218:231,33[A ]| and despised wherever they are known, and that their 218:231,34[A ]| sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?" 218:231,35[' ]| Mr%*Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; 218:231,36[' ]| and affectionately taking her hand, said in reply, 218:231,37[C ]| "Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever 218:231,38[C ]| you and Jane are known, you must be respected and 218:232,01[C ]| valued; and you will not appear to less advantage for 218:232,02[C ]| having a couple of ~~ or I may say, three very silly sisters. 218:232,03[C ]| We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not 218:232,04[C ]| go to Brighton. Let her go then. Colonel*Forster is 218:232,05[C ]| a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real mischief; 218:232,06[C ]| and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey to 218:232,07[C ]| any*body. At Brighton she will be of less importance even 218:232,08[C ]| as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers 218:232,09[C ]| will find women better worth their notice. Let us hope, 218:232,10[C ]| therefore, that her being there may teach her her own 218:232,11[C ]| insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees 218:232,12[C ]| worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest 218:232,13[C ]| of her life." 218:232,14[' ]| With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; 218:232,15[' ]| but her own opinion continued the same, and she left 218:232,16[' ]| him disappointed and sorry. It was not in her nature, 218:232,17[' ]| however, to increase her vexations, by dwelling on them. 218:232,18[' ]| She was confident of having performed her duty, and to 218:232,19[' ]| fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, 218:232,20[' ]| was no part of her disposition. 218:232,21[' ]| Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her 218:232,22[' ]| conference with her father, their indignation would hardly 218:232,23[' ]| have found expression in their united volubility. In 218:232,24[' ]| Lydia's imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every 218:232,25[' ]| possibility of earthly happiness. She saw with the creative 218:232,26[' ]| eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing*place covered 218:232,27[' ]| with officers. She saw herself the object of attention, to 218:232,28[' ]| tens and to scores of them at present unknown. She saw 218:232,29[' ]| all the glories of the camp; its tents stretched forth in 218:232,30[' ]| beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young 218:232,31[' ]| and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and to complete 218:232,32[' ]| the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly 218:232,33[' ]| flirting with at least six officers at once. 218:232,34[' ]| Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from 218:232,35[' ]| such prospects and such realities as these, what would 218:232,36[' ]| have been her sensations? They could have been understood 218:232,37[' ]| only by her mother, who might have felt nearly 218:232,38[' ]| the same. Lydia's going to Brighton was all that consoled 218:233,01[' ]| her for the melancholy conviction of her husband's 218:233,02[' ]| never intending to go there himself. 218:233,03[' ]| But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; 218:233,04[' ]| and their raptures continued with little intermission to the 218:233,05[' ]| very day of Lydia's leaving home. 218:233,06[' ]| Elizabeth was now to see Mr%*Wickham for the last 218:233,07[' ]| time. Having been frequently in company with him since 218:233,08[' ]| her return, agitation was pretty well over; the agitations 218:233,09[' ]| of former partiality entirely so. She had even learnt to 218:233,10[' ]| detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted 218:233,11[' ]| her, an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. 218:233,12[' ]| In his present behaviour to herself, moreover, she had 218:233,13[' ]| a fresh source of displeasure, for the inclination he soon 218:233,14[' ]| testified of renewing those attentions which had marked 218:233,15[' ]| the early part of their acquaintance, could only serve, 218:233,16[' ]| after what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost 218:233,17[' ]| all concern for him in finding herself thus selected as the 218:233,18[' ]| object of such idle and frivolous gallantry; and while she 218:233,19[' ]| steadily repressed it, could not but feel the reproof contained 218:233,20[' ]| in his believing, that however long, and for whatever 218:233,21[' ]| cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity 218:233,22[' ]| would be gratified and her preference secured at any time 218:233,23[' ]| by their renewal. 218:233,24[' ]| On the very last day of the regiment's remaining in 218:233,25[' ]| Meryton, he dined with others of the officers at Longbourn; 218:233,26[' ]| and so little was Elizabeth disposed to part from him 218:233,27[' ]| in good*humour, that on his making some enquiry as to 218:233,28[' ]| the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, 218:233,29[' ]| she mentioned Colonel*Fitzwilliam's and Mr%*Darcy's 218:233,30[' ]| having both spent three weeks at Rosings, and asked 218:233,31[' ]| him if he were acquainted with the former. 218:233,32[' ]| He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but with 218:233,33[' ]| a moment's recollection and a returning smile, replied, 218:233,34[' ]| that 218:233,34@p | he had formerly seen him often; 218:233,34[' ]| and after observing 218:233,35[' ]| that 218:233,35@p | he was a very gentlemanlike man, 218:233,35[' ]| asked her 218:233,35@p | how she 218:233,36@p | had liked him. 218:233,36[' ]| Her answer was warmly in his favour. 218:233,37[' ]| With an air of indifference he soon afterwards added, 218:233,38[P ]| "How long did you say that he was at Rosings?" 218:234,01[A ]| "Nearly three weeks." 218:234,02[P ]| "And you saw him frequently?" 218:234,03[A ]| "Yes, almost every day." 218:234,04[P ]| "His manners are very different from his cousin's." 218:234,05[A ]| "Yes, very different. But I think Mr%*Darcy improves 218:234,06[A ]| on acquaintance." 218:234,07[P ]| "Indeed!" 218:234,07[' ]| cried Wickham with a look which did not 218:234,08[' ]| escape her. 218:234,08[P ]| "And pray may I ask?" 218:234,08[' ]| but checking himself, 218:234,09[' ]| he added in a gayer tone, 218:234,09[P ]| "Is it in address that he 218:234,10[P ]| improves? Has he deigned to add ought of civility to 218:234,11[P ]| his ordinary style? for I dare not hope," 218:234,11[' ]| he continued 218:234,12[' ]| in a lower and more serious tone, 218:234,12[P ]| "that he is improved 218:234,13[P ]| in essentials." 218:234,14[A ]| "Oh, no!" 218:234,14[' ]| said Elizabeth. 218:234,14[A ]| "In essentials, I believe, 218:234,15[A ]| he is very much what he ever was." 218:234,16[' ]| While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing 218:234,17[' ]| whether to rejoice over her words, or to distrust their 218:234,18[' ]| meaning. There was a something in her countenance 218:234,19[' ]| which made him listen with an apprehensive and anxious 218:234,20[' ]| attention, while she added, 218:234,21[A ]| "When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did 218:234,22[A ]| not mean that either his mind or manners were in a state 218:234,23[A ]| of improvement, but that from knowing him better, his 218:234,24[A ]| disposition was better understood." 218:234,25[' ]| Wickham's alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion 218:234,26[' ]| and agitated look; for a few minutes he was 218:234,27[' ]| silent; till, shaking off his embarrassment, he turned to 218:234,28[' ]| her again, and said in the gentlest of accents, 218:234,29[P ]| "You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr%*Darcy, 218:234,30[P ]| will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that 218:234,31[P ]| he is wise enough to assume even the \appearance\ of what 218:234,32[P ]| is right. His pride, in that direction, may be of service, 218:234,33[P ]| if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter him 218:234,34[P ]| from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only 218:234,35[P ]| fear that the sort of cautiousness, to which you, I imagine, 218:234,36[P ]| have been alluding, is merely adopted on his visits to his 218:234,37[P ]| aunt, of whose good opinion and judgment he stands 218:234,38[P ]| much in awe. His fear of her, has always operated, 218:235,01[P ]| I know, when they were together; and a good deal is to 218:235,02[P ]| be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with 218:235,03[P ]| Miss*De*Bourgh, which I am certain he has very much 218:235,04[P ]| at heart." 218:235,05[' ]| Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she 218:235,06[' ]| answered only by a slight inclination of the head. She 218:235,07[' ]| saw that he wanted to engage her on the old subject of 218:235,08[' ]| his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge 218:235,09[' ]| him. The rest of the evening passed with the \appearance\, 218:235,10[' ]| on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with no farther 218:235,11[' ]| attempt to distinguish Elizabeth; and they parted at last 218:235,12[' ]| with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never 218:235,13[' ]| meeting again. 218:235,14[' ]| When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs%*Forster 218:235,15[' ]| to Meryton, from whence they were to set out 218:235,16[' ]| early the next morning. The separation between her and 218:235,17[' ]| her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the 218:235,18[' ]| only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation 218:235,19[' ]| and envy. Mrs%*Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes 218:235,20[' ]| for the felicity of her daughter, and impressive in her 218:235,21[' ]| injunctions that she would not miss the opportunity of 218:235,22[' ]| enjoying herself as much as possible; advice, which there 218:235,23[' ]| was every reason to believe would be attended to; and 218:235,24[' ]| in the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding 218:235,25[' ]| farewell, the more gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered 218:235,26[' ]| without being heard. 219:236,01[' ]| Had Elizabeth's opinion been all drawn from her own 219:236,02[' ]| family, she could not have formed a very pleasing picture 219:236,03[' ]| of conjugal felicity or domestic comfort. Her father 219:236,04[' ]| captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance 219:236,05[' ]| of good*humour, which youth and beauty generally give, 219:236,06[' ]| had married a woman whose weak understanding and 219:236,07[' ]| illiberal mind, had very early in their marriage put an 219:236,08[' ]| end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and 219:236,09[' ]| confidence, had vanished for*ever; and all his views of 219:236,10[' ]| domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr%*Bennet 219:236,11[' ]| was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment 219:236,12[' ]| which his own imprudence had brought on, in any 219:236,13[' ]| of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate 219:236,14[' ]| for their folly or their vice. He was fond of the country 219:236,15[' ]| and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his 219:236,16[' ]| principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little 219:236,17[' ]| otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had 219:236,18[' ]| contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of 219:236,19[' ]| happiness which a man would in general wish to owe 219:236,20[' ]| to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment 219:236,21[' ]| are wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from 219:236,22[' ]| such as are given. 219:236,23[' ]| Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety 219:236,24[' ]| of her father's behaviour as a husband. She 219:236,25[' ]| had always seen it with pain; but respecting his abilities, 219:236,26[' ]| and grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, she 219:236,27[' ]| endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and 219:236,28[' ]| to banish from her thoughts that continual breach of 219:236,29[' ]| conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing his 219:236,30[' ]| wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly 219:236,31[' ]| reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now, 219:236,32[' ]| the disadvantages which must attend the children of so 219:236,33[' ]| unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the 219:237,01[' ]| evils arising from so ill-judged a direction of talents; 219:237,02[' ]| talents which rightly used, might at least have preserved 219:237,03[' ]| the respectability of his daughters, even if incapable of 219:237,04[' ]| enlarging the mind of his wife. 219:237,05[' ]| When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham's departure, 219:237,06[' ]| she found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of 219:237,07[' ]| the regiment. Their parties abroad were less varied than 219:237,08[' ]| before; and at home she had a mother and sister whose 219:237,09[' ]| constant repinings at the dulness of every*thing around 219:237,10[' ]| them, threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; 219:237,11[' ]| and, though Kitty might in time regain her natural degree 219:237,12[' ]| of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were removed, 219:237,13[' ]| her other sister, from whose disposition greater evil might 219:237,14[' ]| be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her folly 219:237,15[' ]| and assurance, by a situation of such double danger as 219:237,16[' ]| a watering*place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, 219:237,17[' ]| she found, what has been sometimes found before, that 219:237,18[' ]| an event to which she had looked forward with impatient 219:237,19[' ]| desire, did not in taking place, bring all the satisfaction 219:237,20[' ]| she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary 219:237,21[' ]| to name some other period for the commencement of 219:237,22[' ]| actual felicity; to have some other point on which her 219:237,23[' ]| wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by again enjoying 219:237,24[' ]| the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present, 219:237,25[' ]| and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to 219:237,26[' ]| the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts; 219:237,27[' ]| it was her best consolation for all the uncomfortable 219:237,28[' ]| hours, which the discontentedness of her mother and 219:237,29[' ]| Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included 219:237,30[' ]| Jane in the scheme, every part of it would have been 219:237,31[' ]| perfect. 219:237,32@a | "But it is fortunate," 219:237,32[' ]| thought she, 219:237,32@a | "that I have something 219:237,33@a | to wish for. Were the whole arrangement complete, 219:237,34@a | my disappointment would be certain. But here, by 219:237,35@a | carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my 219:237,36@a | sister's absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my 219:237,37@a | expectations of pleasure realized. A scheme of which 219:237,38@a | every part promises delight, can never be successful; and 219:238,01@a | general disappointment is only warded off by the defence 219:238,02@a | of some little peculiar vexation." 219:238,03[' ]| When Lydia went away, she promised to write very 219:238,04[' ]| often and very minutely to her mother and Kitty; but 219:238,05[' ]| her letters were always long expected, and always very 219:238,06[' ]| short. Those to her mother, contained little else, than 219:238,07[' ]| that 219:238,07@h | they were just returned from the library, where 219:238,08@h | such and such officers had attended them, and where she 219:238,09@h | had seen such beautiful ornaments as made her quite 219:238,10@h | wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which 219:238,11@h | she would have described more fully, but was obliged 219:238,12@h | to leave off in a violent hurry, as Mrs%*Forster called her, 219:238,13@h | and they were going to the camp; ~~ 219:238,13[' ]| and from her correspondence 219:238,14[' ]| with her sister, there was still less to be learnt ~~ 219:238,15[' ]| for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much 219:238,16[' ]| too full of lines under the words to be made public. 219:238,17[' ]| After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, 219:238,18[' ]| health, good*humour and cheerfulness began to re-appear 219:238,19[' ]| at Longbourn. Everything wore a happier aspect. The 219:238,20[' ]| families who had been in town for the winter came back 219:238,21[' ]| again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. 219:238,22[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity, 219:238,23[' ]| and by the middle of June Kitty was so much recovered 219:238,24[' ]| as to be able to enter Meryton without tears; an event 219:238,25[' ]| of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope, that 219:238,26[' ]| by the following Christmas, she might be so tolerably 219:238,27[' ]| reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, 219:238,28[' ]| unless by some cruel and malicious arrangement at the 219:238,29[' ]| war-office, another regiment should be quartered in 219:238,30[' ]| Meryton. 219:238,31[' ]| The time fixed for the beginning of their Northern tour 219:238,32[' ]| was now fast approaching; and a fortnight only was 219:238,33[' ]| wanting of it, when a letter arrived from Mrs%*Gardiner, 219:238,34[' ]| which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed 219:238,35[' ]| its extent. 219:238,35@o | Mr%*Gardiner would be prevented by business 219:238,36@o | from setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must 219:238,37@o | be in London again within a month; and as that left 219:238,38@o | too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much 219:239,01@o | as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure 219:239,02@o | and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give 219:239,03@o | up the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour; and, 219:239,04@o | according to the present plan, were to go no farther 219:239,05@o | northward than Derbyshire. In that county, there was 219:239,06@o | enough to be seen, to occupy the chief of their three weeks; 219:239,07[' ]| and to Mrs%*Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. 219:239,08[' ]| The town where she had formerly passed some years of 219:239,09[' ]| her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, 219:239,10[' ]| was probably as great an object of her curiosity, as all 219:239,11[' ]| the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, 219:239,12[' ]| or the Park. 219:239,13[' ]| Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set 219:239,14[' ]| her heart on seeing the Lakes; and still thought there 219:239,15[' ]| might have been time enough. But it was her business 219:239,16[' ]| to be satisfied ~~ and certainly her temper to be happy; 219:239,17[' ]| and all was soon right again. 219:239,18[' ]| With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas 219:239,19[' ]| connected. It was impossible for her to see the word 219:239,20[' ]| without thinking of Pemberley and its owner. 219:239,20[A ]| "But 219:239,21[A ]| surely," 219:239,21[' ]| said she, 219:239,21[A ]| "I may enter his county with impunity, 219:239,22[A ]| and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving 219:239,23[A ]| me." 219:239,24[' ]| The period of expectation was now doubled. Four 219:239,25[' ]| weeks were to pass away before her uncle and aunt's 219:239,26[' ]| arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner, 219:239,27[' ]| with their four children, did at length appear 219:239,28[' ]| at Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight 219:239,29[' ]| years old, and two younger boys, were to be left under 219:239,30[' ]| the particular care of their cousin Jane, who was the 219:239,31[' ]| general favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness 219:239,32[' ]| of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in 219:239,33[' ]| every way ~~ teaching them, playing with them, and loving 219:239,34[' ]| them. 219:239,35[' ]| The Gardiners staid only one night at Longbourn, and set 219:239,36[' ]| off the next morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty 219:239,37[' ]| and amusement. One enjoyment was certain ~~ that of 219:239,38[' ]| suitableness as companions; a suitableness which comprehended 219:240,01[' ]| health and temper to bear inconveniences ~~ 219:240,02[' ]| cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure ~~ and affection and 219:240,03[' ]| intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if 219:240,04[' ]| there were disappointments abroad. 219:240,05[' ]| It is not the object of this work to give a description 219:240,06[' ]| of Derbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places through 219:240,07[' ]| which their route thither lay; Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, 219:240,08[' ]| Kenelworth, Birmingham, &c% are sufficiently known. 219:240,09[' ]| A small part of Derbyshire is all the present concern. 219:240,10[' ]| To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs%*Gardiner's 219:240,11[' ]| former residence, and where she had lately learned that 219:240,12[' ]| some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, 219:240,13[' ]| after having seen all the principal wonders of the country; 219:240,14[' ]| and within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth found from 219:240,15[' ]| her aunt, that Pemberley was situated. It was not in 219:240,16[' ]| their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. 219:240,17[' ]| In talking over their route the evening before, Mrs%*Gardiner 219:240,18[' ]| expressed an inclination to see the place again. 219:240,19[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was 219:240,20[' ]| applied to for her approbation. 219:240,21[O ]| "My love, should not you like to see a place of which 219:240,22[O ]| you have heard so much?" 219:240,22[' ]| said her aunt. 219:240,22[O ]| "A place too, 219:240,23[O ]| with which so many of your acquaintance are connected. 219:240,24[O ]| Wickham passed all his youth there, you know." 219:240,25[' ]| Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no 219:240,26[' ]| business at Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination 219:240,27[' ]| for seeing it. 219:240,27@a | She must own that she was tired 219:240,28@a | of great houses; after going over so many, she really had 219:240,29@a | no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains. 219:240,30[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner abused her stupidity. 219:240,30[O ]| "If it were merely 219:240,31[O ]| a fine house richly furnished," 219:240,31[' ]| said she, 219:240,31[O ]| "I should not 219:240,32[O ]| care about it myself; but the grounds are delightful. 219:240,33[O ]| They have some of the finest woods in the country." 219:240,34[' ]| Elizabeth said no more ~~ but her mind could not 219:240,35[' ]| acquiesce. The possibility of meeting Mr%*Darcy, while 219:240,36[' ]| viewing the place, instantly occurred. 219:240,36@a | It would be 219:240,37@a | dreadful! 219:240,37[' ]| She blushed at the very idea; and thought 219:240,38@a | it would be better to speak openly to her aunt, than to 219:241,01@a | run such a risk. But against this, there were objections; 219:241,02[' ]| and she finally resolved that 219:241,02@a | it could be the last resource, 219:241,03@a | if her private enquiries as to the absence of the family, 219:241,04@a | were unfavourably answered. 219:241,05[' ]| Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the 219:241,06[' ]| chambermaid whether Pemberley were not a very fine 219:241,07[' ]| place, what was the name of its proprietor, and with no 219:241,08[' ]| little alarm, whether the family were down for the summer. 219:241,09[' ]| A most welcome negative followed the last question ~~ 219:241,10[' ]| and her alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to 219:241,11[' ]| feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself; 219:241,12[' ]| and when the subject was revived the next morning, and 219:241,13[' ]| she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with 219:241,14[' ]| a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any 219:241,15[' ]| dislike to the scheme. 219:241,16[' ]| To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go. 301:245,01[' ]| Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first 301:245,02[' ]| appearance of Pemberley*Woods with some perturbation; 301:245,03[' ]| and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her 301:245,04[' ]| spirits were in a high flutter. 301:245,05[' ]| The park was very large, and contained great variety 301:245,06[' ]| of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, 301:245,07[' ]| and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, 301:245,08[' ]| stretching over a wide extent. 301:245,09[' ]| Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, but she 301:245,10[' ]| saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of 301:245,11[' ]| view. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then 301:245,12[' ]| found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, 301:245,13[' ]| where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught 301:245,14[' ]| by Pemberley*House, situated on the opposite side of 301:245,15[' ]| a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. 301:245,16[' ]| It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on 301:245,17[' ]| rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; ~~ 301:245,18[' ]| and in front, a stream of some natural importance was 301:245,19[' ]| swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. 301:245,20[' ]| Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth 301:245,21[' ]| was delighted. She had never seen a place for which 301:245,22[' ]| nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been 301:245,23[' ]| so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were 301:245,24[' ]| all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment 301:245,25[' ]| she felt, that 301:245,25@a | to be mistress of Pemberley might be something! 301:245,26@a | 301:245,27[' ]| They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove 301:245,28[' ]| to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of 301:245,29[' ]| the house, all her apprehensions of meeting its owner 301:245,30[' ]| returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been 301:246,01[' ]| mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were 301:246,02[' ]| admitted into the hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited 301:246,03[' ]| for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her being 301:246,04[' ]| where she was. 301:246,05[' ]| The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking, elderly 301:246,06[' ]| woman, much less fine, and more civil, than she had any 301:246,07[' ]| notion of finding her. They followed her into the dining-parlour. 301:246,08[' ]| It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely 301:246,09[' ]| fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, 301:246,10[' ]| went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned 301:246,11[' ]| with wood, from which they had descended, receiving 301:246,12[' ]| increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful 301:246,13[' ]| object. Every disposition of the ground was good; and 301:246,14[' ]| she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered 301:246,15[' ]| on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she 301:246,16[' ]| could trace it, with delight. As they passed into other 301:246,17[' ]| rooms, these objects were taking different positions; but 301:246,18[' ]| from every window there were beauties to be seen. The 301:246,19[' ]| rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture 301:246,20[' ]| suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth 301:246,21[' ]| saw, with admiration of his taste, that it was neither 301:246,22[' ]| gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of splendor, and more 301:246,23[' ]| real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings. 301:246,24@a | "And of this place," 301:246,24[' ]| thought she, 301:246,24@a | "I might have been 301:246,25@a | mistress! With these rooms I might now have been 301:246,26@a | familiarly acquainted! Instead of viewing them as a 301:246,27@a | stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and 301:246,28@a | welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. ~~ But 301:246,29@a | no," ~~ 301:246,29[' ]| recollecting herself, ~~ 301:246,29@a | "that could never be: my 301:246,30@a | uncle and aunt would have been lost to me: I should 301:246,31@a | not have been allowed to invite them." 301:246,32[' ]| This was a lucky recollection ~~ it saved her from something 301:246,33[' ]| like regret. 301:246,34[' ]| She longed to enquire of the housekeeper, whether her 301:246,35[' ]| master were really absent, but had not courage for it. 301:246,36[' ]| At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle; 301:246,37[' ]| and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs%*Reynolds 301:246,38[' ]| replied, that he was, adding, 301:246,38[V ]| "but we expect him to-morrow, 301:247,01[V ]| with a large party of friends." 301:247,01[' ]| How rejoiced 301:247,02[' ]| was Elizabeth that their own journey had not by any 301:247,03[' ]| circumstance been delayed a day! 301:247,04[' ]| Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She 301:247,05[' ]| approached, and saw the likeness of Mr%*Wickham suspended, 301:247,06[' ]| amongst several other miniatures, over the mantle-piece. 301:247,07[' ]| Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. 301:247,08[' ]| The housekeeper came forward, and told them 301:247,08@v | it was the 301:247,09@v | picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master's 301:247,10@v | steward, who had been brought up by him at his own 301:247,11@v | expence. ~~ 301:247,11[V ]| "He is now gone into the army," 301:247,11[' ]| she added, 301:247,12[V ]| "but I am afraid he has turned out very wild." 301:247,13[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but 301:247,14[' ]| Elizabeth could not return it. 301:247,15[V ]| "And that," 301:247,15[' ]| said Mrs%*Reynolds, pointing to another 301:247,16[' ]| of the miniatures, 301:247,16[V ]| "is my master ~~ and very like him. 301:247,17[V ]| It was drawn at the same time as the other ~~ about eight 301:247,18[V ]| years ago." 301:247,19[O ]| "I have heard much of your master's fine person," 301:247,20[' ]| said Mrs%*Gardiner, looking at the picture; 301:247,20[O ]| "it is a handsome 301:247,21[O ]| face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like 301:247,22[O ]| or not." 301:247,23[' ]| Mrs%*Reynolds's respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase 301:247,24[' ]| on this intimation of her knowing her master. 301:247,25[V ]| "Does that young lady know Mr%*Darcy?" 301:247,26[' ]| Elizabeth coloured, and said ~~ 301:247,26[A ]| "A little." 301:247,27[V ]| "And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, 301:247,28[V ]| Ma'am?" 301:247,29[A ]| "Yes, very handsome." 301:247,30[V ]| "I am sure \I\ know none so handsome; but in the 301:247,31[V ]| gallery up*stairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him 301:247,32[V ]| than this. This room was my late master's favourite 301:247,33[V ]| room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be 301:247,34[V ]| then. He was very fond of them." 301:247,35[' ]| This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr%*Wickham's being 301:247,36[' ]| among them. 301:247,37[' ]| Mrs%*Reynolds then directed their attention to one of 301:247,38[' ]| Miss*Darcy, drawn when she was only eight years old. 301:248,01[N ]| "And is Miss*Darcy as handsome as her brother?" 301:248,02[' ]| said Mr%*Gardiner. 301:248,03[V ]| "Oh! yes ~~ the handsomest young lady that ever was 301:248,04[V ]| seen; and so accomplished! ~~ She plays and sings all day 301:248,05[V ]| long. In the next room is a new instrument just come 301:248,06[V ]| down for her ~~ a present from my master; she comes here 301:248,07[V ]| to-morrow with him." 301:248,08[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, 301:248,09[' ]| encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and 301:248,10[' ]| remarks; Mrs%*Reynolds, either from pride or attachment, 301:248,11[' ]| had evidently great pleasure in talking of her 301:248,12[' ]| master and his sister. 301:248,13[N ]| "Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of 301:248,14[N ]| the year?" 301:248,15[V ]| "Not so much as I could wish, Sir; but I dare say he 301:248,16[V ]| may spend half his time here; and Miss*Darcy is always 301:248,17[V ]| down for the summer months." 301:248,18@a | "Except," 301:248,18[' ]| thought Elizabeth, 301:248,18@a | "when she goes to 301:248,19@a | Ramsgate." 301:248,20[N ]| "If your master would marry, you might see more of 301:248,21[N ]| him." 301:248,22[V ]| "Yes, Sir; but I do not know when \that\ will be. I do 301:248,23[V ]| not know who is good enough for him." 301:248,24[' ]| Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not 301:248,25[' ]| help saying, 301:248,25[A ]| "It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that 301:248,26[A ]| you should think so." 301:248,27[V ]| "I say no more than the truth, and what every*body 301:248,28[V ]| will say that knows him," 301:248,28[' ]| replied the other. Elizabeth 301:248,29[' ]| thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with 301:248,30[' ]| increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, 301:248,31[V ]| "I have never had a cross word from him in my 301:248,32[V ]| life, and I have known him ever since he was four years 301:248,33[V ]| old." 301:248,34[' ]| This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most 301:248,35[' ]| opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good-tempered 301:248,36[' ]| man, had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention 301:248,37[' ]| was awakened; she longed to hear more, and was grateful 301:248,38[' ]| to her uncle for saying, 301:249,01[N ]| "There are very few people of whom so much can be 301:249,02[N ]| said. You are lucky in having such a master." 301:249,03[V ]| "Yes, Sir, I know I am. If I was to go through the 301:249,04[V ]| world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always 301:249,05[V ]| observed, that they who are good-natured when children, 301:249,06[V ]| are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always 301:249,07[V ]| the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted, boy in the 301:249,08[V ]| world." 301:249,09[' ]| Elizabeth almost stared at her. ~~ 301:249,09@a | "Can this be Mr%*Darcy!" 301:249,10[' ]| thought she. 301:249,11[O ]| "His father was an excellent man," 301:249,11[' ]| said Mrs%*Gardiner. 301:249,12[V ]| "Yes, Ma'am, that he was indeed; and his son will be 301:249,13[V ]| just like him ~~ just as affable to the poor." 301:249,14[' ]| Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient 301:249,15[' ]| for more. Mrs%*Reynolds could interest her on no 301:249,16[' ]| other point. She related the subject of the pictures, the 301:249,17[' ]| dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture, 301:249,18[' ]| in vain. Mr%*Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of 301:249,19[' ]| family prejudice, to which he attributed her excessive 301:249,20[' ]| commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; 301:249,21[' ]| and she dwelt with energy on his many merits, as they 301:249,22[' ]| proceeded together up the great staircase. 301:249,23[V ]| "He is the best landlord, and the best master," 301:249,23[' ]| said 301:249,24[' ]| she, 301:249,24[V ]| "that ever lived. Not like the wild young men 301:249,25[V ]| now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves. There 301:249,26[V ]| is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give 301:249,27[V ]| him a good name. Some people call him proud; but 301:249,28[V ]| I am sure I never saw any*thing of it. To my fancy, it is 301:249,29[V ]| only because he does not rattle away like other young 301:249,30[V ]| men." 301:249,31@a | "In what an amiable light does this place him!" 301:249,32[' ]| thought Elizabeth. 301:249,33[O ]| "This fine account of him," 301:249,33[' ]| whispered her aunt, as they 301:249,34[' ]| walked, 301:249,34[O ]| "is not quite consistent with his behaviour to our 301:249,35[O ]| poor friend." 301:249,36[A ]| "Perhaps we might be deceived." 301:249,37[O ]| "That is not very likely; our authority was too good." 301:249,38[' ]| On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shewn 301:250,01[' ]| into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with 301:250,02[' ]| greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below; 301:250,03[' ]| and were informed that 301:250,03@v | it was but just done, to give 301:250,04@v | pleasure to Miss*Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room, 301:250,05@v | when last at Pemberley. 301:250,06[A ]| "He is certainly a good brother," 301:250,06[' ]| said Elizabeth, as 301:250,07[' ]| she walked towards one of the windows. 301:250,08[' ]| Mrs%*Reynolds anticipated Miss*Darcy's delight, when 301:250,09[' ]| she should enter the room. 301:250,09[V ]| "And this is always the way 301:250,10[V ]| with him," 301:250,10[' ]| she added. ~~ 301:250,10[V ]| "Whatever can give his sister 301:250,11[V ]| any pleasure, is sure to be done in a moment. There is 301:250,12[V ]| nothing he would not do for her." 301:250,13[' ]| The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal 301:250,14[' ]| bed-rooms, were all that remained to be shewn. In the 301:250,15[' ]| former were many good paintings; but Elizabeth knew 301:250,16[' ]| nothing of the art; and from such as had been already 301:250,17[' ]| visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some 301:250,18[' ]| drawings of Miss*Darcy's, in crayons, whose subjects were 301:250,19[' ]| usually more interesting, and also more intelligible. 301:250,20[' ]| In the gallery there were many family portraits, but 301:250,21[' ]| they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. 301:250,22[' ]| Elizabeth walked on in quest of the only face whose 301:250,23[' ]| features would be known to her. At last it arrested her ~~ 301:250,24[' ]| and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr%*Darcy, with 301:250,25[' ]| such a smile over the face, as she remembered to have 301:250,26[' ]| sometimes seen, when he looked at her. She stood several 301:250,27[' ]| minutes before the picture in earnest contemplation, and 301:250,28[' ]| returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. 301:250,29[' ]| Mrs%*Reynolds informed them, that it had been taken in 301:250,30[' ]| his father's life*time. 301:250,31[' ]| There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's 301:250,32[' ]| mind, a more gentle sensation towards the original, than 301:250,33[' ]| she had ever felt in the height of their acquaintance. 301:250,34[' ]| The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs%*Reynolds 301:250,35[' ]| was of no trifling nature. 301:250,35@a | What praise is more valuable 301:250,36@a | than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, 301:250,37@a | a landlord, a master, 301:250,37[' ]| she considered 301:250,37@a | how many people's 301:250,38@a | happiness were in his guardianship! ~~ How much of 301:251,01@a | pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! ~~ How 301:251,02@a | much of good or evil must be done by him! 301:251,02[' ]| Every idea 301:251,03[' ]| that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was 301:251,04[' ]| favourable to his character, and as she stood before the 301:251,05[' ]| canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes 301:251,06[' ]| upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper 301:251,07[' ]| sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; 301:251,08[' ]| she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety 301:251,09[' ]| of expression. 301:251,10[' ]| When all of the house that was open to general inspection 301:251,11[' ]| had been seen, they returned down*stairs, and taking 301:251,12[' ]| leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the 301:251,13[' ]| gardener, who met them at the hall*door. 301:251,14[' ]| As they walked across the lawn towards the river, 301:251,15[' ]| Elizabeth turned back to look again; her uncle and aunt 301:251,16[' ]| stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as 301:251,17[' ]| to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly 301:251,18[' ]| came forward from the road, which led behind it to the 301:251,19[' ]| stables. 301:251,20[' ]| They were within twenty yards of each other, and so 301:251,21[' ]| abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid 301:251,22[' ]| his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of 301:251,23[' ]| each were overspread with the deepest blush. He absolutely 301:251,24[' ]| started, and for a moment seemed immoveable from 301:251,25[' ]| surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards 301:251,26[' ]| the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect 301:251,27[' ]| composure, at least of perfect civility. 301:251,28[' ]| She had instinctively turned away; but, stopping on 301:251,29[' ]| his approach, received his compliments with an embarrassment 301:251,30[' ]| impossible to be overcome. Had his first 301:251,31[' ]| appearance, or his resemblance to the picture they had 301:251,32[' ]| just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other 301:251,33[' ]| two that they now saw Mr%*Darcy, the gardener's expression 301:251,34[' ]| of surprise, on beholding his master, must immediately 301:251,35[' ]| have told it. They stood a little aloof while he was talking 301:251,36[' ]| to their niece, who, astonished and confused, scarcely 301:251,37[' ]| dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer 301:251,38[' ]| she returned to his civil enquiries after her family. Amazed 301:252,01[' ]| at the alteration in his manner since they last parted, 301:252,02[' ]| every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; 301:252,03[' ]| and every idea of the impropriety of her being 301:252,04[' ]| found there, recurring to her mind, the few minutes in 301:252,05[' ]| which they continued together, were some of the most 301:252,06[' ]| uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more 301:252,07[' ]| at ease; when he spoke, his accent had none of its usual 301:252,08[' ]| sedateness; and he repeated his enquiries as to the time 301:252,09[' ]| of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay in Derbyshire, 301:252,10[' ]| so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke 301:252,11[' ]| the distraction of his thoughts. 301:252,12[' ]| At length, every idea seemed to fail him; and, after 301:252,13[' ]| standing a few moments without saying a word, he suddenly 301:252,14[' ]| recollected himself, and took leave. 301:252,15[' ]| The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration 301:252,16[' ]| of his figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, 301:252,17[' ]| wholly engrossed by her own feelings, followed them in 301:252,18[' ]| silence. She was overpowered by shame and vexation. 301:252,19@a | Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most 301:252,20@a | ill-judged thing in the world! How strange must it 301:252,21@a | appear to him! In what a disgraceful light might it not 301:252,22@a | strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely 301:252,23@a | thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she 301:252,24@a | come? or, why did he thus come a day before he was 301:252,25@a | expected? Had they been only ten minutes sooner, they 301:252,26@a | should have been beyond the reach of his discrimination, 301:252,27@a | for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that 301:252,28@a | moment alighted from his horse or his carriage. 301:252,28[' ]| She 301:252,29[' ]| blushed again and again over the perverseness of the 301:252,30[' ]| meeting. 301:252,30@a | And his behaviour, so strikingly altered, ~~ 301:252,31@a | what could it mean? That he should even speak to her 301:252,32@a | was amazing! ~~ but to speak with such civility, to enquire 301:252,33@a | after her family! Never in her life had she seen his 301:252,34@a | manners so little dignified, never had he spoken with such 301:252,35@a | gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. What a contrast 301:252,36@a | did it offer to his last address in Rosing's*Park, when he 301:252,37@a | put his letter into her hand! 301:252,37[' ]| She knew not what to think, 301:252,38[' ]| nor how to account for it. 301:253,01[' ]| They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of 301:253,02[' ]| the water, and every step was bringing forward a nobler 301:253,03[' ]| fall of ground, or a finer reach of the woods to which they 301:253,04[' ]| were approaching; but it was some time before Elizabeth 301:253,05[' ]| was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered 301:253,06[' ]| mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and 301:253,07[' ]| aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such objects as 301:253,08[' ]| they pointed out, she distinguished no part of the scene. 301:253,09[' ]| Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of Pemberley*House, 301:253,10[' ]| whichever it might be, where Mr%*Darcy then was. 301:253,11[' ]| She longed to know what at that moment was passing 301:253,12[' ]| in his mind; in what manner he thought of her, and 301:253,13[' ]| whether, in defiance of every*thing, she was still dear to 301:253,14[' ]| him. 301:253,14@a | Perhaps he had been civil, only because he felt 301:253,15@a | himself at ease; yet there had been \that\ in his voice, 301:253,16@a | which was not like ease. Whether he had felt more of 301:253,17@a | pain or of pleasure in seeing her, 301:253,17[' ]| she could not tell, 301:253,17@a | but he 301:253,18@a | certainly had not seen her with composure. 301:253,19[' ]| At length, however, the remarks of her companions on 301:253,20[' ]| her absence of mind roused her, and she felt the necessity 301:253,21[' ]| of appearing more like herself. 301:253,22[' ]| They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river 301:253,23[' ]| for a while, ascended some of the higher grounds; whence, 301:253,24[' ]| in spots where the opening of the trees gave the eye power 301:253,25[' ]| to wander, were many charming views of the valley, the 301:253,26[' ]| opposite hills, with the long range of woods overspreading 301:253,27[' ]| many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr%*Gardiner 301:253,28[' ]| expressed a wish of going round the whole Park, but 301:253,29[' ]| feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant 301:253,30[' ]| smile, they were told, that it was ten miles round. It 301:253,31[' ]| settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed 301:253,32[' ]| circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in 301:253,33[' ]| a descent among hanging woods, to the edge of the water, 301:253,34[' ]| in one of its narrowest parts. They crossed it by a simple 301:253,35[' ]| bridge, in character with the general air of the scene; 301:253,36[' ]| it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; 301:253,37[' ]| and the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room 301:253,38[' ]| only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough 301:254,01[' ]| coppice-wood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to 301:254,02[' ]| explore its windings; but when they had crossed the 301:254,03[' ]| bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, 301:254,04[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner, who was not a great walker, could go no 301:254,05[' ]| farther, and thought only of returning to the carriage as 301:254,06[' ]| quickly as possible. Her niece was, therefore, obliged to 301:254,07[' ]| submit, and they took their way towards the house on 301:254,08[' ]| the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; 301:254,09[' ]| but their progress was slow, for Mr%*Gardiner, though 301:254,10[' ]| seldom able to indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing, 301:254,11[' ]| and was so much engaged in watching the occasional 301:254,12[' ]| appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to 301:254,13[' ]| the man about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst 301:254,14[' ]| wandering on in this slow manner, they were again surprised, 301:254,15[' ]| and Elizabeth's astonishment was quite equal to 301:254,16[' ]| what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr%*Darcy approaching 301:254,17[' ]| them, and at no great distance. The walk 301:254,18[' ]| being here less sheltered than on the other side, allowed 301:254,19[' ]| them to see him before they met. Elizabeth, however 301:254,20[' ]| astonished, was at least more prepared for an interview 301:254,21[' ]| than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with 301:254,22[' ]| calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few 301:254,23[' ]| moments, indeed, she felt that he would probably strike 301:254,24[' ]| into some other path. This idea lasted while a turning 301:254,25[' ]| in the walk concealed him from their view; the turning 301:254,26[' ]| past, he was immediately before them. With a glance 301:254,27[' ]| she saw, that he had lost none of his recent civility; and, 301:254,28[' ]| to imitate his politeness, she began, as they met, to admire 301:254,29[' ]| the beauty of the place; but she had not got beyond the 301:254,30[' ]| words 301:254,30[A ]| "delightful," 301:254,30[' ]| and 301:254,30[A ]| "charming," 301:254,30[' ]| when some unlucky 301:254,31[' ]| recollections obtruded, and she fancied that 301:254,31@a | praise 301:254,32@a | of Pemberley from her, might be mischievously construed. 301:254,33[' ]| Her colour changed, and she said no more. 301:254,34[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on 301:254,35[' ]| her pausing, he asked her, 301:254,35@b | if she would do him the honour 301:254,36@b | of introducing him to her friends. 301:254,36[' ]| This was a stroke of 301:254,37[' ]| civility for which she was quite unprepared; and she 301:254,38[' ]| could hardly suppress a smile, at his being now seeking 301:255,01[' ]| the acquaintance of some of those very people, against 301:255,02[' ]| whom his pride had revolted, in his offer to herself. 301:255,02@a | "What 301:255,03@a | will be his surprise," 301:255,03[' ]| thought she, 301:255,03@a | "when he knows who 301:255,04@a | they are! He takes them now for people of fashion." 301:255,05[' ]| The introduction, however, was immediately made; 301:255,06[' ]| and as she named their relationship to herself, she stole 301:255,07[' ]| a sly look at him, to see how he bore it; and was not 301:255,08[' ]| without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he 301:255,09[' ]| could from such disgraceful companions. That he was 301:255,10[' ]| \surprised\ by the connexion was evident; he sustained it 301:255,11[' ]| however with fortitude, and so far from going away, 301:255,12[' ]| turned back with them, and entered into conversation 301:255,13[' ]| with Mr%*Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased, 301:255,14[' ]| could not but triumph. 301:255,14@a | It was consoling, that he should 301:255,15@a | know she had some relations for whom there was no need 301:255,16@a | to blush. 301:255,16[' ]| She listened most attentively to all that passed 301:255,17[' ]| between them, and gloried in every expression, every 301:255,18[' ]| sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his 301:255,19[' ]| taste, or his good manners. 301:255,20[' ]| The conversation soon turned upon fishing, and she 301:255,21[' ]| heard Mr%*Darcy invite him, with the greatest civility, to 301:255,22[' ]| fish there as often as he chose, while he continued in the 301:255,23[' ]| neighbourhood, offering at the same time to supply him 301:255,24[' ]| with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of the 301:255,25[' ]| stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs%*Gardiner, 301:255,26[' ]| who was walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her 301:255,27[' ]| a look expressive of her wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, 301:255,28[' ]| but it gratified her exceedingly; 301:255,28@a | the compliment must 301:255,29@a | be all for herself. 301:255,29[' ]| Her astonishment, however, was 301:255,30[' ]| extreme; and continually was she repeating, 301:255,30@a | "Why is 301:255,31@a | he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot 301:255,32@a | be for \me\, it cannot be for \my\ sake that his manners are 301:255,33@a | thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work 301:255,34@a | such a change as this. It is impossible that he should 301:255,35@a | still love me." 301:255,36[' ]| After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in 301:255,37[' ]| front, the two gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, 301:255,38[' ]| after descending to the brink of the river for the better 301:256,01[' ]| inspection of some curious water-plant, there chanced to 301:256,02[' ]| be a little alteration. It originated in Mrs%*Gardiner, who, 301:256,03[' ]| fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found Elizabeth's 301:256,04[' ]| arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred 301:256,05[' ]| her husband's. Mr%*Darcy took her place by her niece, and 301:256,06[' ]| they walked on together. After a short silence, the lady 301:256,07[' ]| first spoke. She wished him to know that she had been 301:256,08[' ]| assured of his absence before she came to the place, and 301:256,09[' ]| accordingly began by observing, that 301:256,09@a | his arrival had been 301:256,10@a | very unexpected ~~ 301:256,10[A ]| "for your housekeeper," 301:256,10[' ]| she added, 301:256,11[A ]| "informed us that you would certainly not be here till 301:256,12[A ]| to-morrow; and indeed, before we left Bakewell, we understood 301:256,13[A ]| that you were not immediately expected in the 301:256,14[A ]| country." 301:256,14[' ]| He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said 301:256,15[' ]| that 301:256,15@b | business with his steward had occasioned his coming 301:256,16@b | forward a few hours before the rest of the party with 301:256,17@b | whom he had been travelling. 301:256,17[B ]| "They will join me early 301:256,18[B ]| to-morrow," 301:256,18[' ]| he continued, 301:256,18[B ]| "and among them are some 301:256,19[B ]| who will claim an acquaintance with you, ~~ Mr%*Bingley 301:256,20[B ]| and his sisters." 301:256,21[' ]| Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts 301:256,22[' ]| were instantly driven back to the time when Mr%*Bingley's 301:256,23[' ]| name had been last mentioned between them; and if she 301:256,24[' ]| might judge from his complexion, \his\ mind was not very 301:256,25[' ]| differently engaged. 301:256,26[B ]| "There is also one other person in the party," 301:256,26[' ]| he continued 301:256,27[' ]| after a pause, 301:256,27[B ]| "who more particularly wishes to 301:256,28[B ]| be known to you, ~~ Will you allow me, or do I ask too 301:256,29[B ]| much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during 301:256,30[B ]| your stay at Lambton?" 301:256,31[' ]| The surprise of such an application was great indeed; 301:256,32[' ]| it was too great for her to know in what manner she 301:256,33[' ]| acceded to it. She immediately felt that 301:256,33@a | whatever desire 301:256,34@a | Miss*Darcy might have of being acquainted with her, 301:256,35@a | must be the work of her brother, and without looking 301:256,36@a | farther, it was satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that 301:256,37@a | his resentment had not made him think really ill of her. 301:256,38[' ]| They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in 301:257,01[' ]| thought. Elizabeth was not comfortable; that was 301:257,02[' ]| impossible; but she was flattered and pleased. 301:257,02@a | His wish 301:257,03@a | of introducing his sister to her, was a compliment of the 301:257,04@a | highest kind. 301:257,04[' ]| They soon outstripped the others, and 301:257,05[' ]| when they had reached the carriage, Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner 301:257,06[' ]| were half a quarter of a mile behind. 301:257,07[' ]| He then asked her to walk into the house ~~ but she 301:257,08[' ]| declared herself not tired, and they stood together on the 301:257,09[' ]| lawn. At such a time, much might have been said, and 301:257,10[' ]| silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but 301:257,11[' ]| there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last she 301:257,12[' ]| recollected that she had been travelling, and they talked 301:257,13[' ]| of Matlock and Dove*Dale with great perseverance. Yet 301:257,14[' ]| time and her aunt moved slowly ~~ and her patience and 301:257,15[' ]| her ideas were nearly worn out before the tete-a-tete was 301:257,16[' ]| over. On Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner's coming up, they were 301:257,17[' ]| all pressed to go into the house and take some refreshment; 301:257,18[' ]| but this was declined, and they parted on each 301:257,19[' ]| side with the utmost politeness. Mr%*Darcy handed the 301:257,20[' ]| ladies into the carriage, and when it drove off, Elizabeth 301:257,21[' ]| saw him walking slowly towards the house. 301:257,22[' ]| The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and 301:257,23[' ]| each of them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to 301:257,24[' ]| any*thing they had expected. 301:257,24[N ]| "He is perfectly well 301:257,25[N ]| behaved, polite, and unassuming," 301:257,25[' ]| said her uncle. 301:257,26[O ]| "There \is\ something a little stately in him to be sure," 301:257,27[' ]| replied her aunt, 301:257,27[O ]| "but it is confined to his air, and is 301:257,28[O ]| not unbecoming. I can now say with the housekeeper, 301:257,29[O ]| that though some people may call him proud, \I\ have seen 301:257,30[O ]| nothing of it." 301:257,31[N ]| "I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to 301:257,32[N ]| us. It was more than civil; it was really attentive; and 301:257,33[N ]| there was no necessity for such attention. His acquaintance 301:257,34[N ]| with Elizabeth was very trifling." 301:257,35[O ]| "To be sure, Lizzy," 301:257,35[' ]| said her aunt, 301:257,35[O ]| "he is not so handsome 301:257,36[O ]| as Wickham; or rather he has not Wickham's 301:257,37[O ]| countenance, for his features are perfectly good. But how 301:257,38[O ]| came you to tell us that he was so disagreeable?" 301:258,01[' ]| Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could; said 301:258,02[' ]| that 301:258,02@a | she had liked him better when they met in Kent than 301:258,03@a | before, and that she had never seen him so pleasant as 301:258,04@a | this morning. 301:258,05[N ]| "But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his 301:258,06[N ]| civilities," 301:258,06[' ]| replied her uncle. 301:258,06[N ]| "Your great men often are; 301:258,07[N ]| and therefore I shall not take him at his word about 301:258,08[N ]| fishing, as he might change his mind another day, and 301:258,09[N ]| warn me off his grounds." 301:258,10[' ]| Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken his 301:258,11[' ]| character, but said nothing. 301:258,12[O ]| "From what we have seen of him," 301:258,12[' ]| continued Mrs%*Gardiner, 301:258,13[O ]| "I really should not have thought that he could 301:258,14[O ]| have behaved in so cruel a way by any*body, as he has 301:258,15[O ]| done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look. 301:258,16[O ]| On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his 301:258,17[O ]| mouth when he speaks. And there is something of dignity 301:258,18[O ]| in his countenance, that would not give one an unfavourable 301:258,19[O ]| idea of his heart. But to be sure, the good lady who 301:258,20[O ]| shewed us the house, did give him a most flaming character! 301:258,21[O ]| I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he 301:258,22[O ]| is a liberal master, I suppose, and \that\ in the eye of a servant 301:258,23[O ]| comprehends every virtue." 301:258,24[' ]| Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something 301:258,25[' ]| in vindication of his behaviour to Wickham; and therefore 301:258,26[' ]| gave them to understand, in as guarded a manner 301:258,27[' ]| as she could, that by what she had heard from his relations 301:258,28[' ]| in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different 301:258,29[' ]| construction; and that his character was by no means 301:258,30[' ]| so faulty, nor Wickham's so amiable, as they had been 301:258,31[' ]| considered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation of this, she 301:258,32[' ]| related the particulars of all the pecuniary transactions 301:258,33[' ]| in which they had been connected, without actually 301:258,34[' ]| naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might 301:258,35[' ]| be relied on. 301:258,36[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner was surprised and concerned; but as they 301:258,37[' ]| were now approaching the scene of her former pleasures, 301:258,38[' ]| every idea gave way to the charm of recollection; and 301:259,01[' ]| she was too much engaged in pointing out to her husband 301:259,02[' ]| all the interesting spots in its environs, to think of any*thing 301:259,03[' ]| else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning's 301:259,04[' ]| walk, they had no sooner dined than she set off again in 301:259,05[' ]| quest of her former acquaintance, and the evening was 301:259,06[' ]| spent in the satisfactions of an intercourse renewed after 301:259,07[' ]| many years discontinuance. 301:259,08[' ]| The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to 301:259,09[' ]| leave Elizabeth much attention for any of these new 301:259,10[' ]| friends; and she could do nothing but think, and think 301:259,11[' ]| with wonder, of Mr%*Darcy's civility, and above all, of his 301:259,12[' ]| wishing her to be acquainted with his sister. 302:260,01[' ]| Elizabeth had settled it that Mr%*Darcy would bring 302:260,02[' ]| his sister to visit her, the very day after her reaching 302:260,03[' ]| Pemberley; and was consequently resolved not to be out 302:260,04[' ]| of sight of the inn the whole of that morning. But her 302:260,05[' ]| conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their 302:260,06[' ]| own arrival at Lambton, these visitors came. They had 302:260,07[' ]| been walking about the place with some of their new 302:260,08[' ]| friends, and were just returned to the inn to dress themselves 302:260,09[' ]| for dining with the same family, when the sound 302:260,10[' ]| of a carriage drew them to a window, and they saw 302:260,11[' ]| a gentleman and lady in a curricle, driving up the street. 302:260,12[' ]| Elizabeth immediately recognising the livery, guessed 302:260,13[' ]| what it meant, and imparted no small degree of surprise 302:260,14[' ]| to her relations, by acquainting them with the honour 302:260,15[' ]| which she expected. Her uncle and aunt were all amazement; 302:260,16[' ]| and the embarrassment of her manner as she 302:260,17[' ]| spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many of the 302:260,18[' ]| circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new 302:260,19[' ]| idea on the business. Nothing had ever suggested it 302:260,20[' ]| before, but they now felt that there was no other way of 302:260,21[' ]| accounting for such attentions from such a quarter, than 302:260,22[' ]| by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these 302:260,23[' ]| newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation 302:260,24[' ]| of Elizabeth's feelings was every moment 302:260,25[' ]| increasing. She was quite amazed at her own discomposure; 302:260,26[' ]| but amongst other causes of disquiet, she dreaded 302:260,27[' ]| lest the partiality of the brother should have said too 302:260,28[' ]| much in her favour; and more than commonly anxious 302:260,29[' ]| to please, she naturally suspected that every power of 302:260,30[' ]| pleasing would fail her. 302:260,31[' ]| She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; 302:260,32[' ]| and as she walked up and down the room, endeavouring 302:261,01[' ]| to compose herself, saw such looks of enquiring surprise 302:261,02[' ]| in her uncle and aunt, as made every*thing worse. 302:261,03[' ]| Miss*Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable 302:261,04[' ]| introduction took place. With astonishment did 302:261,05[' ]| Elizabeth see, that her new acquaintance was at least 302:261,06[' ]| as much embarrassed as herself. Since her being at 302:261,07[' ]| Lambton, she had heard that Miss*Darcy was exceedingly 302:261,08[' ]| proud; but the observation of a very few minutes convinced 302:261,09[' ]| her, that she was only exceedingly shy. She found 302:261,10[' ]| it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable. 302:261,11[' ]| 302:261,12[' ]| Miss*Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; 302:261,13[' ]| and, though little more than sixteen, her figure 302:261,14[' ]| was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. 302:261,15[' ]| She was less handsome than her brother, but there was 302:261,16[' ]| sense and good*humour in her face, and her manners were 302:261,17[' ]| perfectly unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had 302:261,18[' ]| expected to find in her as acute and unembarrassed an 302:261,19[' ]| observer as ever Mr%*Darcy had been, was much relieved 302:261,20[' ]| by discerning such different feelings. 302:261,21[' ]| They had not been long together, before Darcy told her 302:261,22[' ]| that Bingley was also coming to wait on her; and she 302:261,23[' ]| had barely time to express her satisfaction, and prepare 302:261,24[' ]| for such a visitor, when Bingley's quick step was heard 302:261,25[' ]| on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All 302:261,26[' ]| Elizabeth's anger against him had been long done away; 302:261,27[' ]| but, had she still felt any, it could hardly have stood its 302:261,28[' ]| ground against the unaffected cordiality with which he 302:261,29[' ]| expressed himself, on seeing her again. He enquired in 302:261,30[' ]| a friendly, though general way, after her family, and looked 302:261,31[' ]| and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had 302:261,32[' ]| ever done. 302:261,33[' ]| To Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting 302:261,34[' ]| personage than to herself. They had long wished to 302:261,35[' ]| see him. The whole party before them, indeed, excited 302:261,36[' ]| a lively attention. The suspicions which had just arisen 302:261,37[' ]| of Mr%*Darcy and their niece, directed their observation 302:261,38[' ]| towards each with an earnest, though guarded, enquiry; 302:262,01[' ]| and they soon drew from those enquiries the full conviction 302:262,02[' ]| that one of them at least knew what it was to love. Of 302:262,03[' ]| the lady's sensations they remained a little in doubt; 302:262,04[' ]| but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration 302:262,05[' ]| was evident enough. 302:262,06[' ]| Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted 302:262,07[' ]| to ascertain the feelings of each of her visitors, she wanted 302:262,08[' ]| to compose her own, and to make herself agreeable to all; 302:262,09[' ]| and in the latter object, where she feared most to fail, 302:262,10[' ]| she was most sure of success, for those to whom she 302:262,11[' ]| endeavoured to give pleasure were prepossessed in her 302:262,12[' ]| favour. Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and 302:262,13[' ]| Darcy determined, to be pleased. 302:262,14[' ]| In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her 302:262,15[' ]| sister; and oh! how ardently did she long to know, 302:262,16[' ]| whether any of his were directed in a like manner. 302:262,17[' ]| Sometimes she could fancy, that he talked less than on 302:262,18[' ]| former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with 302:262,19[' ]| the notion that as he looked at her, he was trying to trace 302:262,20[' ]| a resemblance. But, though this might be imaginary, she 302:262,21[' ]| could not be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss*Darcy, 302:262,22[' ]| who had been set up as a rival of Jane. 302:262,22@a | No look appeared 302:262,23@a | on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing 302:262,24@a | occurred between them that could justify the hopes of 302:262,25@a | his sister. 302:262,25[' ]| On this point she was soon satisfied; and two 302:262,26[' ]| or three little circumstances occurred ere they parted, 302:262,27[' ]| which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted a recollection 302:262,28[' ]| of Jane, not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of 302:262,29[' ]| saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had 302:262,30[' ]| he dared. He observed to her, at a moment when the 302:262,31[' ]| others were talking together, and in a tone which had 302:262,32[' ]| something of real regret, that it 302:262,32[I ]| "was a very long time 302:262,33[I ]| since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;" 302:262,33[' ]| and, before 302:262,34[' ]| she could reply, he added, 302:262,34[I ]| "It is above eight months. 302:262,35[I ]| We have not met since the 26th of November, when we 302:262,36[I ]| were all dancing together at Netherfield." 302:262,37[' ]| Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; 302:262,38[' ]| and he afterwards took occasion to ask her, when unattended 302:263,01[' ]| to by any of the rest, 302:263,01@i | whether \all\ her sisters 302:263,02@i | were at Longbourn. 302:263,02@a | There was not much in the question, 302:263,03@a | nor in the preceding remark, but there was a look and 302:263,04@a | a manner which gave them meaning. 302:263,05[' ]| It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr%*Darcy 302:263,06[' ]| himself; but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, 302:263,07[' ]| she saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all 302:263,08[' ]| that he said, she heard an accent so far removed from 302:263,09[' ]| hauteur or disdain of his companions, as convinced her 302:263,10[' ]| that 302:263,10@a | the improvement of manners which she had yesterday 302:263,11@a | witnessed, however temporary its existence might prove, 302:263,12@a | had at least outlived one day. 302:263,12[' ]| When she saw him thus 302:263,13[' ]| seeking the acquaintance, and courting the good opinion 302:263,14[' ]| of people, with whom any intercourse a few months ago 302:263,15[' ]| would have been a disgrace; when she saw him thus civil, 302:263,16[' ]| not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had 302:263,17[' ]| openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene 302:263,18[' ]| in Hunsford*Parsonage, the difference, the change was 302:263,19[' ]| so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she 302:263,20[' ]| could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. 302:263,21@a | Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, 302:263,22@a | or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen 302:263,23@a | him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence, 302:263,24@a | or unbending reserve as now, when no importance could 302:263,25@a | result from the success of his endeavours, and when even 302:263,26@a | the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were 302:263,27@a | addressed, would draw down the ridicule and censure of 302:263,28@a | the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings. 302:263,29[' ]| Their visitors staid with them above half an hour, and 302:263,30[' ]| when they arose to depart, Mr%*Darcy called on his sister 302:263,31[' ]| to join him in expressing their wish of seeing Mr% and 302:263,32[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner, and Miss*Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, 302:263,33[' ]| before they left the country. Miss*Darcy, though with 302:263,34[' ]| a diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving 302:263,35[' ]| invitations, readily obeyed. Mrs%*Gardiner looked at her 302:263,36[' ]| niece, desirous of knowing how \she\, whom the invitation 302:263,37[' ]| most concerned, felt disposed as to its acceptance, but 302:263,38[' ]| Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming, however, 302:264,01[' ]| that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary 302:264,02[' ]| embarrassment, than any dislike of the proposal, and 302:264,03[' ]| seeing in her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect 302:264,04[' ]| willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for her 302:264,05[' ]| attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on. 302:264,06[' ]| Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of 302:264,07[' ]| seeing Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say 302:264,08[' ]| to her, and many enquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire 302:264,09[' ]| friends. Elizabeth, construing all this into a wish 302:264,10[' ]| of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased; and on 302:264,11[' ]| this account, as well as some others, found herself, when 302:264,12[' ]| their visitors left them, capable of considering the last 302:264,13[' ]| half*hour with some satisfaction, though while it was 302:264,14[' ]| passing, the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to 302:264,15[' ]| be alone, and fearful of enquiries or hints from her uncle 302:264,16[' ]| and aunt, she staid with them only long enough to hear 302:264,17[' ]| their favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried 302:264,18[' ]| away to dress. 302:264,19[' ]| But she had no reason to fear Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner's 302:264,20[' ]| curiosity; it was not their wish to force her communication. 302:264,21@y | It was evident that she was much better acquainted 302:264,22@y | with Mr%*Darcy than they had before any idea 302:264,23@y | of; it was evident that he was very much in love with 302:264,24@y | her. 302:264,24[' ]| They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify 302:264,25[' ]| enquiry. 302:264,26[' ]| Of Mr%*Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think 302:264,27[' ]| well; and, as far as their acquaintance reached, there was 302:264,28[' ]| no fault to find. They could not be untouched by his 302:264,29[' ]| politeness, and had they drawn his character from their 302:264,30[' ]| own feelings, and his servant's report, without any reference 302:264,31[' ]| to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to 302:264,32[' ]| which he was known, would not have recognised it for 302:264,33[' ]| Mr%*Darcy. There was now an interest, however, in 302:264,34[' ]| believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible, 302:264,35[' ]| that the authority of a servant who had known him since 302:264,36[' ]| he was four years old, and whose own manners indicated 302:264,37[' ]| respectability, was not to be hastily rejected. Neither 302:264,38[' ]| had any*thing occurred in the intelligence of their Lambton 302:265,01[' ]| friends, that could materially lessen its weight. They had 302:265,02[' ]| nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably 302:265,03[' ]| had, and if not, it would certainly be imputed by the 302:265,04[' ]| inhabitants of a small market-town, where the family 302:265,05[' ]| did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he 302:265,06[' ]| was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor. 302:265,07[' ]| With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that 302:265,08[' ]| he was not held there in much estimation; for though 302:265,09[' ]| the chief of his concerns, with the son of his patron, were 302:265,10[' ]| imperfectly understood, it was yet a well known fact that, 302:265,11[' ]| on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind 302:265,12[' ]| him, which Mr%*Darcy afterwards discharged. 302:265,13[' ]| As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this 302:265,14[' ]| evening more than the last; and the evening, though as 302:265,15[' ]| it passed it seemed long, was not long enough to determine 302:265,16[' ]| her feelings towards \one\ in that mansion; and she 302:265,17[' ]| lay awake two whole hours, endeavouring to make them 302:265,18[' ]| out. 302:265,18@a | She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had 302:265,19@a | vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been 302:265,20@a | ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him, that could 302:265,21@a | be so called. The respect created by the conviction of 302:265,22@a | his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, 302:265,23@a | had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; 302:265,24@a | and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier 302:265,25@a | nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and 302:265,26@a | bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, 302:265,27@a | which yesterday had produced. But above all, above 302:265,28@a | respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of 302:265,29@a | good*will which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude. ~~ 302:265,30@a | Gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, 302:265,31@a | but for loving her still well enough, to forgive all the 302:265,32@a | petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, 302:265,33@a | and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. 302:265,34@a | He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his 302:265,35@a | greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most 302:265,36@a | eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate 302:265,37@a | display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, 302:265,38@a | where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting 302:266,01@a | the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her 302:266,02@a | known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much 302:266,03@a | pride, excited not only astonishment but gratitude ~~ for 302:266,04@a | to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and as such 302:266,05@a | its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as 302:266,06@a | by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly 302:266,07@a | defined. 302:266,07[' ]| She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful 302:266,08[' ]| to him, she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she 302:266,09[' ]| only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to 302:266,10[' ]| depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the 302:266,11[' ]| happiness of both that she should employ the power, 302:266,12[' ]| which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing 302:266,13[' ]| on the renewal of his addresses. 302:266,14[' ]| It had been settled in the evening, between the aunt 302:266,15[' ]| and niece, that such a striking civility as Miss*Darcy's, 302:266,16[' ]| in coming to them on the very day of her arrival at 302:266,17[' ]| Pemberley, for she had reached it only to a late breakfast, 302:266,18[' ]| ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, 302:266,19[' ]| by some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, 302:266,20[' ]| that it would be highly expedient to wait on 302:266,21[' ]| her at Pemberley the following morning. They were, 302:266,22[' ]| therefore, to go. ~~ Elizabeth was pleased, though, when she 302:266,23[' ]| asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply. 302:266,24[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing 302:266,25[' ]| scheme had been renewed the day before, and a positive 302:266,26[' ]| engagement made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at 302:266,27[' ]| Pemberley by noon. 303:267,01[' ]| Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss*Bingley's 303:267,02[' ]| dislike of her had originated in jealousy, she could not 303:267,03[' ]| help feeling how very unwelcome her appearance at 303:267,04[' ]| Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with 303:267,05[' ]| how much civility on that lady's side, the acquaintance 303:267,06[' ]| would now be renewed. 303:267,07[' ]| On reaching the house, they were shewn through the 303:267,08[' ]| hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it 303:267,09[' ]| delightful for summer. Its windows opening to the ground 303:267,10[' ]| admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills 303:267,11[' ]| behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish 303:267,12[' ]| chesnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn. 303:267,13[' ]| In this room they were received by Miss*Darcy, who 303:267,14[' ]| was sitting there with Mrs%*Hurst and Miss*Bingley, and 303:267,15[' ]| the lady with whom she lived in London. Georgiana's 303:267,16[' ]| reception of them was very civil; but attended with all 303:267,17[' ]| that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness 303:267,18[' ]| and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to 303:267,19[' ]| those who felt themselves inferior, the belief of her being 303:267,20[' ]| proud and reserved. Mrs%*Gardiner and her niece, however, 303:267,21[' ]| did her justice, and pitied her. 303:267,22[' ]| By Mrs%*Hurst and Miss*Bingley, they were noticed only 303:267,23[' ]| by a curtsey; and on their being seated, a pause, awkward 303:267,24[' ]| as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few 303:267,25[' ]| moments. It was first broken by Mrs%*Annesley, a genteel, 303:267,26[' ]| agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce 303:267,27[' ]| some kind of discourse, proved her to be more truly well*bred 303:267,28[' ]| than either of the others; and between her and 303:267,29[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner, with occasional help from Elizabeth, the 303:267,30[' ]| conversation was carried on. Miss*Darcy looked as if she 303:267,31[' ]| wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes 303:267,32[' ]| did venture a short sentence, when there was least danger 303:267,33[' ]| of its being heard. 303:268,01[' ]| Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched 303:268,02[' ]| by Miss*Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, 303:268,03[' ]| especially to Miss*Darcy, without calling her attention. 303:268,04[' ]| This observation would not have prevented her from 303:268,05[' ]| trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at 303:268,06[' ]| an inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be 303:268,07[' ]| spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts 303:268,08[' ]| were employing her. She expected every moment that 303:268,09[' ]| some of the gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, 303:268,10[' ]| she feared that the master of the house might be amongst 303:268,11[' ]| them; and whether she wished or feared it most, she could 303:268,12[' ]| scarcely determine. After sitting in this manner a quarter 303:268,13[' ]| of an hour, without hearing Miss*Bingley's voice, Elizabeth 303:268,14[' ]| was roused by receiving from her a cold enquiry after the 303:268,15[' ]| health of her family. She answered with equal indifference 303:268,16[' ]| and brevity, and the other said no more. 303:268,17[' ]| The next variation which their visit afforded was produced 303:268,18[' ]| by the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, 303:268,19[' ]| and a variety of all the finest fruits in season; but this 303:268,20[' ]| did not take place till after many a significant look and 303:268,21[' ]| smile from Mrs%*Annesley to Miss*Darcy had been given, 303:268,22[' ]| to remind her of her post. There was now employment 303:268,23[' ]| for the whole party; for though they could not all talk, 303:268,24[' ]| they could all eat; and the beautiful pyramids of grapes, 303:268,25[' ]| nectarines, and peaches, soon collected them round the 303:268,26[' ]| table. 303:268,27[' ]| While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity 303:268,28[' ]| of deciding whether she most feared or wished for the 303:268,29[' ]| appearance of Mr%*Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed 303:268,30[' ]| on his entering the room; and then, though but a moment 303:268,31[' ]| before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she 303:268,32[' ]| began to regret that he came. 303:268,33[' ]| He had been some time with Mr%*Gardiner, who, with 303:268,34[' ]| two or three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged 303:268,35[' ]| by the river, and had left him only on learning that the 303:268,36[' ]| ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that 303:268,37[' ]| morning. No sooner did he appear, than Elizabeth wisely 303:268,38[' ]| resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed; ~~ 303:269,01[' ]| a resolution the more necessary to be made, but perhaps 303:269,02[' ]| not the more easily kept, because she saw that the suspicions 303:269,03[' ]| of the whole party were awakened against them, 303:269,04[' ]| and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch 303:269,05[' ]| his behaviour when he first came into the room. In no 303:269,06[' ]| countenance was attentive curiosity so strongly marked 303:269,07[' ]| as in Miss*Bingley's, in spite of the smiles which overspread 303:269,08[' ]| her face whenever she spoke to one of its objects; for 303:269,09[' ]| jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions 303:269,10[' ]| to Mr%*Darcy were by no means over. Miss*Darcy, 303:269,11[' ]| on her brother's entrance, exerted herself much more to 303:269,12[' ]| talk; and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his 303:269,13[' ]| sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, as 303:269,14[' ]| much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either 303:269,15[' ]| side. Miss*Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the 303:269,16[' ]| imprudence of anger, took the first opportunity of saying, 303:269,17[' ]| with sneering civility, 303:269,18[J ]| "Pray, Miss*Eliza, are not the *****shire militia removed 303:269,19[J ]| from Meryton? They must be a great loss to \your\ 303:269,20[J ]| family." 303:269,21[' ]| In Darcy's presence she dared not mention Wickham's 303:269,22[' ]| name; but Elizabeth instantly comprehended that he was 303:269,23[' ]| uppermost in her thoughts; and the various recollections 303:269,24[' ]| connected with him gave her a moment's distress; but, 303:269,25[' ]| exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, 303:269,26[' ]| she presently answered the question in a tolerably disengaged 303:269,27[' ]| tone. While she spoke, an involuntary glance 303:269,28[' ]| shewed her Darcy with an heightened complexion, earnestly 303:269,29[' ]| looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion, 303:269,30[' ]| and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss*Bingley known 303:269,31[' ]| what pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she 303:269,32[' ]| undoubtedly would have refrained from the hint; but she 303:269,33[' ]| had merely intended to discompose Elizabeth, by bringing 303:269,34[' ]| forward the idea of a man to whom she believed her 303:269,35[' ]| partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might 303:269,36[' ]| injure her in Darcy's opinion, and perhaps to remind the 303:269,37[' ]| latter of all the follies and absurdities, by which some part 303:269,38[' ]| of her family were connected with that corps. Not a 303:270,01[' ]| syllable had ever reached her of Miss*Darcy's meditated 303:270,02[' ]| elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where 303:270,03[' ]| secresy was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all 303:270,04[' ]| Bingley's connections her brother was particularly anxious 303:270,05[' ]| to conceal it, from that very wish which Elizabeth had 303:270,06[' ]| long ago attributed to him, of their becoming hereafter 303:270,07[' ]| her own. He had certainly formed such a plan, and 303:270,08[' ]| without meaning that it should affect his endeavour to 303:270,09[' ]| separate him from Miss*Bennet, it is probable that it 303:270,10[' ]| might add something to his lively concern for the welfare 303:270,11[' ]| of his friend. 303:270,12[' ]| Elizabeth's collected behaviour, however, soon quieted 303:270,13[' ]| his emotion; and as Miss*Bingley, vexed and disappointed, 303:270,14[' ]| dared not approach nearer to Wickham, Georgiana also 303:270,15[' ]| recovered in time, though not enough to be able to speak 303:270,16[' ]| any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, 303:270,17[' ]| scarcely recollected her interest in the affair, and the very 303:270,18[' ]| circumstance which had been designed to turn his thoughts 303:270,19[' ]| from Elizabeth, seemed to have fixed them on her more, 303:270,20[' ]| and more cheerfully. 303:270,21[' ]| Their visit did not continue long after the question 303:270,22[' ]| and answer above-mentioned; and while Mr%*Darcy was 303:270,23[' ]| attending them to their carriage, Miss*Bingley was venting 303:270,24[' ]| her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth's person, behaviour, 303:270,25[' ]| and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her 303:270,26[' ]| brother's recommendation was enough to ensure her 303:270,27[' ]| favour: his judgment could not err, and he had spoken 303:270,28[' ]| in such terms of Elizabeth, as to leave Georgiana without 303:270,29[' ]| the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable. 303:270,30[' ]| When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss*Bingley could 303:270,31[' ]| not help repeating to him some part of what she had been 303:270,32[' ]| saying to his sister. 303:270,33[J ]| "How very ill Eliza*Bennet looks this morning, Mr%*Darcy," 303:270,34[' ]| she cried; 303:270,34[J ]| "I never in my life saw any*one so 303:270,35[J ]| much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown 303:270,36[J ]| so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that 303:270,37[J ]| we should not have known her again." 303:270,38[' ]| However little Mr%*Darcy might have liked such an 303:271,01[' ]| address, he contented himself with coolly replying, that 303:271,02@b | he perceived no other alteration than her being rather 303:271,03@b | tanned, ~~ no miraculous consequence of travelling in the 303:271,04@b | summer. 303:271,05[J ]| "For my own part," 303:271,05[' ]| she rejoined, 303:271,05[J ]| "I must confess that 303:271,06[J ]| I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; 303:271,07[J ]| her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are 303:271,08[J ]| not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is 303:271,09[J ]| nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but 303:271,10[J ]| not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which 303:271,11[J ]| have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive 303:271,12[J ]| any*thing extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, 303:271,13[J ]| shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her 303:271,14[J ]| air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, 303:271,15[J ]| which is intolerable." 303:271,16[' ]| Persuaded as Miss*Bingley was that Darcy admired 303:271,17[' ]| Elizabeth, this was not the best method of recommending 303:271,18[' ]| herself; but angry people are not always wise; and in 303:271,19[' ]| seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all 303:271,20[' ]| the success she expected. He was resolutely silent however; 303:271,21[' ]| and, from a determination of making him speak, 303:271,22[' ]| she continued, 303:271,23[J ]| "I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, 303:271,24[J ]| how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed 303:271,25[J ]| beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one 303:271,26[J ]| night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 303:271,26@b | ""\She\ 303:271,27@b | a beauty! ~~ I should as soon call her mother a wit."" 303:271,27[J ]| But 303:271,28[J ]| afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe 303:271,29[J ]| you thought her rather pretty at one time." 303:271,30[B ]| "Yes," 303:271,30[' ]| replied Darcy, who could contain himself no 303:271,31[' ]| longer, 303:271,31[B ]| "but \that\ was only when I first knew her, for it is 303:271,32[B ]| many months since I have considered her as one of the 303:271,33[B ]| handsomest women of my acquaintance." 303:271,34[' ]| He then went away, and Miss*Bingley was left to all 303:271,35[' ]| the satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave 303:271,36[' ]| no*one any pain but herself. 303:271,37[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had 303:271,38[' ]| occurred, during their visit, as they returned, except what 303:272,01[' ]| had particularly interested them both. The looks and 303:272,02[' ]| behaviour of every*body they had seen were discussed, 303:272,03[' ]| except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. 303:272,04[' ]| They talked of his sister, his friends, his house, his 303:272,05[' ]| fruit, of every*thing but himself; yet Elizabeth was 303:272,06[' ]| longing to know what Mrs%*Gardiner thought of him, 303:272,07[' ]| and Mrs%*Gardiner would have been highly gratified by 303:272,08[' ]| her niece's beginning the subject. 304:273,01[' ]| Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not 304:273,02[' ]| finding a letter from Jane, on their first arrival at Lambton; 304:273,03[' ]| and this disappointment had been renewed on each of 304:273,04[' ]| the mornings that had now been spent there; but on the 304:273,05[' ]| third, her repining was over, and her sister justified by 304:273,06[' ]| the receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which 304:273,07[' ]| was marked that it had been missent elsewhere. Elizabeth 304:273,08[' ]| was not surprised at it, as Jane had written the direction 304:273,09[' ]| remarkably ill. 304:273,10[' ]| They had just been preparing to walk as the letters 304:273,11[' ]| came in; and her uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy 304:273,12[' ]| them in quiet, set off by themselves. The one missent 304:273,13[' ]| must be first attended to; it had been written five days 304:273,14[' ]| ago. The beginning contained an account of all their 304:273,15[' ]| little parties and engagements, with such news as the 304:273,16[' ]| country afforded; but the latter half, which was dated 304:273,17[' ]| a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave more 304:273,18[' ]| important intelligence. It was to this effect: 304:273,19[E ]| "Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has 304:273,20[E ]| occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but 304:273,21[E ]| I am afraid of alarming you ~~ be assured that we are all 304:273,22[E ]| well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An 304:273,23[E ]| express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone 304:273,24[E ]| to bed, from Colonel*Forster, to inform us that she was 304:273,25[E ]| gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the 304:273,26[E ]| truth, with Wickham! ~~ Imagine our surprise. To Kitty, 304:273,27[E ]| however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am 304:273,28[E ]| very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! ~~ 304:273,29[E ]| But I am willing to hope the best, and that his character 304:273,30[E ]| has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can 304:273,31[E ]| easily believe him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) 304:273,32[E ]| marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested 304:273,33[E ]| at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. 304:274,01[E ]| Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it 304:274,02[E ]| better. How thankful am I, that we never let them know 304:274,03[E ]| what has been said against him; we must forget it ourselves. 304:274,04[E ]| They were off Saturday night about twelve, as 304:274,05[E ]| is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning 304:274,06[E ]| at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear 304:274,07[E ]| Lizzy, they must have passed within ten miles of us. 304:274,08[E ]| Colonel*Forster gives us reason to expect him here 304:274,09[E ]| soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing 304:274,10[E ]| her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be 304:274,11[E ]| long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not 304:274,12[E ]| be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have 304:274,13[E ]| written." 304:274,14[' ]| Without allowing herself time for consideration, and 304:274,15[' ]| scarcely knowing what she felt, Elizabeth on finishing this 304:274,16[' ]| letter, instantly seized the other, and opening it with the 304:274,17[' ]| utmost impatience, read as follows: it had been written 304:274,18[' ]| a day later than the conclusion of the first. 304:274,19[E ]| "By this time, my dearest sister, you have received 304:274,20[E ]| my hurried letter; I wish this may be more intelligible, 304:274,21[E ]| but though not confined for time, my head is so bewildered 304:274,22[E ]| that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, 304:274,23[E ]| I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news 304:274,24[E ]| for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage 304:274,25[E ]| between Mr%*Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we 304:274,26[E ]| are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, for 304:274,27[E ]| there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone to 304:274,28[E ]| Scotland. Colonel*Forster came yesterday, having left 304:274,29[E ]| Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express. 304:274,30[E ]| Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs%*F% gave them to understand 304:274,31[E ]| that they were going to Gretna*Green, something 304:274,32[E ]| was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W% never 304:274,33[E ]| intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was 304:274,34[E ]| repeated to Colonel*F% who instantly taking the alarm, 304:274,35[E ]| set off from B% intending to trace their route. He did 304:274,36[E ]| trace them easily to Clapham, but no farther; for on 304:274,37[E ]| entering that place they removed into a hackney-coach 304:274,38[E ]| and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. 304:275,01[E ]| All that is known after this is, that they were seen to 304:275,02[E ]| continue the London road. I know not what to think. 304:275,03[E ]| After making every possible enquiry on that side London, 304:275,04[E ]| Colonel*F% came on into Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing 304:275,05[E ]| them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet and 304:275,06[E ]| Hatfield, but without any success, no such people had 304:275,07[E ]| been seen to pass through. With the kindest concern he 304:275,08[E ]| came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions to us 304:275,09[E ]| in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely 304:275,10[E ]| grieved for him and Mrs%*F% but no*one can throw any 304:275,11[E ]| blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. 304:275,12[E ]| My father and mother believe the worst, but I cannot 304:275,13[E ]| think so ill of him. Many circumstances might make it 304:275,14[E ]| more eligible for them to be married privately in town than 304:275,15[E ]| to pursue their first plan; and even if \he\ could form such 304:275,16[E ]| a design against a young woman of Lydia's connections, 304:275,17[E ]| which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to every*thing? 304:275,18[E ]| ~~ Impossible. I grieve to find, however, that 304:275,19[E ]| Colonel*F% is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; 304:275,20[E ]| he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said 304:275,21[E ]| he feared W% was not a man to be trusted. My poor 304:275,22[E ]| mother is really ill and keeps her room. Could she exert 304:275,23[E ]| herself it would be better, but this is not to be expected; 304:275,24[E ]| and as to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. 304:275,25[E ]| Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed their attachment; 304:275,26[E ]| but as it was a matter of confidence one cannot 304:275,27[E ]| wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have 304:275,28[E ]| been spared something of these distressing scenes; but 304:275,29[E ]| now as the first shock is over, shall I own that I long for 304:275,30[E ]| your return? I am not so selfish, however, as to press 304:275,31[E ]| for it, if inconvenient. Adieu. I take up my pen again 304:275,32[E ]| to do, what I have just told you I would not, but circumstances 304:275,33[E ]| are such, that I cannot help earnestly begging 304:275,34[E ]| you all to come here, as soon as possible. I know my dear 304:275,35[E ]| uncle and aunt so well, that I am not afraid of requesting 304:275,36[E ]| it, though I have still something more to ask of the former. 304:275,37[E ]| My father is going to London with Colonel*Forster instantly, 304:275,38[E ]| to try to discover her. What he means to do, 304:276,01[E ]| I am sure I know not; but his excessive distress will not 304:276,02[E ]| allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest 304:276,03[E ]| way, and Colonel*Forster is obliged to be at Brighton 304:276,04[E ]| again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence my uncle's 304:276,05[E ]| advice and assistance would be every*thing in the world; 304:276,06[E ]| he will immediately comprehend what I must feel, and 304:276,07[E ]| I rely upon his goodness." 304:276,08[A ]| "Oh! where, where is my uncle?" 304:276,08[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 304:276,09[' ]| darting from her seat as she finished the letter, in eagerness 304:276,10[' ]| to follow him, without losing a moment of the time so 304:276,11[' ]| precious; but as she reached the door, it was opened by 304:276,12[' ]| a servant, and Mr%*Darcy appeared. Her pale face and 304:276,13[' ]| impetuous manner made him start, and before he could 304:276,14[' ]| recover himself enough to speak, she, in whose mind every 304:276,15[' ]| idea was superseded by Lydia's situation, hastily exclaimed, 304:276,16[A ]| "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find 304:276,17[A ]| Mr%*Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be 304:276,18[A ]| delayed; I have not an instant to lose." 304:276,19[B ]| "Good God! what is the matter?" 304:276,19[' ]| cried he, with 304:276,20[' ]| more feeling than politeness; then recollecting himself, 304:276,21[B ]| "I will not detain you a minute, but let me, or let the 304:276,22[B ]| servant, go after Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner. You are not well 304:276,23[B ]| enough; ~~ you cannot go yourself." 304:276,24[' ]| Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled under her, 304:276,25[' ]| and she felt how little would be gained by her attempting 304:276,26[' ]| to pursue them. Calling back the servant, therefore, she 304:276,27[' ]| commissioned him, though in so breathless an accent as 304:276,28[' ]| made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and 304:276,29[' ]| mistress home, instantly. 304:276,30[' ]| On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to 304:276,31[' ]| support herself, and looking so miserably ill, that it was 304:276,32[' ]| impossible for Darcy to leave her, or to refrain from 304:276,33[' ]| saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, 304:276,33[B ]| "Let 304:276,34[B ]| me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take, to 304:276,35[B ]| give you present relief? ~~ A glass of wine; ~~ shall I get 304:276,36[B ]| you one? ~~ You are very ill." 304:276,37[A ]| "No, I thank you;" 304:276,37[' ]| she replied, endeavouring to 304:276,38[' ]| recover herself. 304:276,38[A ]| "There is nothing the matter with me. 304:277,01[A ]| I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful 304:277,02[A ]| news which I have just received from Longbourn." 304:277,03[' ]| She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few 304:277,04[' ]| minutes could not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched 304:277,05[' ]| suspense, could only say something indistinctly of his 304:277,06[' ]| concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. At 304:277,07[' ]| length, she spoke again. 304:277,07[A ]| "I have just had a letter from 304:277,08[A ]| Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed 304:277,09[A ]| from any*one. My youngest sister has left all her friends ~~ 304:277,10[A ]| has eloped; ~~ has thrown herself into the power of ~~ of 304:277,11[A ]| Mr%*Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. 304:277,12[A ]| \You\ know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no 304:277,13[A ]| money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to ~~ 304:277,14[A ]| she is lost for*ever." 304:277,15[' ]| Darcy was fixed in astonishment. 304:277,15[A ]| "When I consider," 304:277,16[' ]| she added, in a yet more agitated voice, 304:277,16[A ]| "that \I\ might 304:277,17[A ]| have prevented it! ~~ \I\ who knew what he was. Had I but 304:277,18[A ]| explained some part of it only ~~ some part of what I learnt, 304:277,19[A ]| to my own family! Had his character been known, this 304:277,20[A ]| could not have happened. But it is all, all too late 304:277,21[A ]| now." 304:277,22[B ]| "I am grieved, indeed," 304:277,22[' ]| cried Darcy; 304:277,22[B ]| "grieved ~~ 304:277,23[B ]| shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?" 304:277,24[A ]| "Oh yes! ~~ They left Brighton together on Sunday 304:277,25[A ]| night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; 304:277,26[A ]| they are certainly not gone to Scotland." 304:277,27[B ]| "And what has been done, what has been attempted, 304:277,28[B ]| to recover her?" 304:277,29[A ]| "My father is gone to London, and Jane has written 304:277,30[A ]| to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, and we shall be 304:277,31[A ]| off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; 304:277,32[A ]| I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such 304:277,33[A ]| a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? 304:277,34[A ]| I have not the smallest hope. It is every way 304:277,35[A ]| horrible!" 304:277,36[' ]| Darcy shook his head in silent acquiesence. 304:277,37[A ]| "When \my\ eyes were opened to his real character. ~~ 304:277,38[A ]| Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! 304:278,01[A ]| But I knew not ~~ I was afraid of doing too much. 304:278,02[A ]| Wretched, wretched, mistake!" 304:278,03[' ]| Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear 304:278,04[' ]| her, and was walking up and down the room in earnest 304:278,05[' ]| meditation; his brow contracted, his air gloomy. Elizabeth 304:278,06[' ]| soon observed, and instantly understood it. 304:278,06@a | Her power 304:278,07@a | was sinking; every*thing \must\ sink under such a proof 304:278,08@a | of family weakness, such an assurance of the deepest 304:278,09@a | disgrace. She could neither wonder nor condemn, but the 304:278,10@a | belief of his self-conquest brought nothing consolatory to 304:278,11@a | her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It was, 304:278,12@a | on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand 304:278,13@a | her own wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that 304:278,14@a | she could have loved him, as now, when all love must 304:278,15@a | be vain. 304:278,16[' ]| But self, though it would intrude, could not engross 304:278,17[' ]| her. 304:278,17@a | Lydia ~~ the humiliation, the misery, she was bringing 304:278,18@a | on them all, soon swallowed up every private care; 304:278,18[' ]| and 304:278,19[' ]| covering her face with her handkerchief, Elizabeth was 304:278,20[' ]| soon lost to every*thing else; and, after a pause of several 304:278,21[' ]| minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by 304:278,22[' ]| the voice of her companion, who, in a manner, which 304:278,23[' ]| though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said, 304:278,24[B ]| "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, 304:278,25[B ]| nor have I any*thing to plead in excuse of my stay, but 304:278,26[B ]| real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that 304:278,27[B ]| any*thing could be either said or done on my part, that 304:278,28[B ]| might offer consolation to such distress. ~~ But I will not 304:278,29[B ]| torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely 304:278,30[B ]| to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, 304:278,31[B ]| I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of seeing 304:278,32[B ]| you at Pemberley to*day." 304:278,33[A ]| "Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss*Darcy. 304:278,34[A ]| Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. 304:278,35[A ]| Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible. 304:278,36[A ]| ~~ I know it cannot be long." 304:278,37[' ]| He readily assured her of his secrecy ~~ again expressed 304:278,38[' ]| his sorrow for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion 304:279,01[' ]| than there was at present reason to hope, and leaving 304:279,02[' ]| his compliments for her relations, with only one serious, 304:279,03[' ]| parting, look, went away. 304:279,04[' ]| As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable 304:279,05[' ]| it was that they should ever see each other again on such 304:279,06[' ]| terms of cordiality as had marked their several meetings 304:279,07[' ]| in Derbyshire; and as she threw a retrospective glance 304:279,08[' ]| over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of contradictions 304:279,09[' ]| and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those 304:279,10[' ]| feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, 304:279,11[' ]| and would formerly have rejoiced in its termination. 304:279,12[' ]| If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, 304:279,13[' ]| Elizabeth's change of sentiment will be neither 304:279,14[' ]| improbable nor faulty. But if otherwise, if the regard 304:279,15[' ]| springing from such sources is unreasonable or unnatural, 304:279,16[' ]| in comparison of what is so often described as arising on 304:279,17[' ]| a first interview with its object, and even before two 304:279,18[' ]| words have been exchanged, nothing can be said in her 304:279,19[' ]| defence, except that she had given somewhat of a trial 304:279,20[' ]| to the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham, and 304:279,21[' ]| that its ill-success might perhaps authorise her to seek 304:279,22[' ]| the other less interesting mode of attachment. Be that as 304:279,23[' ]| it may, she saw him go with regret; and in this early 304:279,24[' ]| example of what Lydia's infamy must produce, found 304:279,25[' ]| additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched 304:279,26[' ]| business. Never, since reading Jane's second letter, had 304:279,27[' ]| she entertained a hope of Wickham's meaning to marry 304:279,28[' ]| her. 304:279,28@a | No*one but Jane, 304:279,28[' ]| she thought, 304:279,28@a | could flatter herself 304:279,29@a | with such an expectation. 304:279,29[' ]| Surprise was the least of her 304:279,30[' ]| feelings on this development. While the contents of the 304:279,31[' ]| first letter remained on her mind, she was all surprise ~~ 304:279,32[' ]| all astonishment that Wickham should marry a girl, whom 304:279,33[' ]| it was impossible he could marry for money; and how 304:279,34[' ]| Lydia could ever have attached him, had appeared incomprehensible. 304:279,35@a | But now it was all too natural. For such 304:279,36@a | an attachment as this, she might have sufficient charms; 304:279,37[' ]| and though she did not suppose Lydia to be deliberately 304:279,38[' ]| engaging in an elopement, without the intention of marriage, 304:280,01[' ]| she had no difficulty in believing that neither her 304:280,02[' ]| virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from 304:280,03[' ]| falling an easy prey. 304:280,04[' ]| She had never perceived, while the regiment was in 304:280,05[' ]| Hertfordshire, that Lydia had any partiality for him, but 304:280,06[' ]| she was convinced that 304:280,06@a | Lydia had wanted only encouragement 304:280,07@a | to attach herself to any*body. Sometimes one 304:280,08@a | officer, sometimes another had been her favourite, as their 304:280,09@a | attentions raised them in her opinion. Her affections had 304:280,10@a | been continually fluctuating, but never without an object. 304:280,11@a | The mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence towards 304:280,12@a | such a girl. ~~ 304:280,12[' ]| Oh! how acutely did she now feel it. 304:280,13[' ]| She was wild to be at home ~~ to hear, to see, to be 304:280,14[' ]| upon the spot, to share with Jane in the cares that must 304:280,15[' ]| now fall wholly upon her, in a family so deranged; a father 304:280,16[' ]| absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and requiring 304:280,17[' ]| constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that 304:280,18[' ]| nothing could be done for Lydia, her uncle's interference 304:280,19[' ]| seemed of the utmost importance, and till he entered the 304:280,20[' ]| room, the misery of her impatience was severe. Mr% and 304:280,21[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing, by 304:280,22[' ]| the servant's account, that their niece was taken suddenly 304:280,23[' ]| ill; ~~ but satisfying them instantly on that head, she 304:280,24[' ]| eagerly communicated the cause of their summons, 304:280,25[' ]| reading the two letters aloud, and dwelling on the postscript 304:280,26[' ]| of the last, with trembling energy. ~~ Though Lydia 304:280,27[' ]| had never been a favourite with them, Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner 304:280,28[' ]| could not but be deeply affected. Not Lydia 304:280,29[' ]| only, but all were concerned in it; and after the first 304:280,30[' ]| exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr%*Gardiner readily 304:280,31[' ]| promised every assistance in his power. ~~ Elizabeth, 304:280,32[' ]| though expecting no less, thanked him with tears of 304:280,33[' ]| gratitude; and all three being actuated by one spirit, 304:280,34[' ]| every*thing relating to their journey was speedily settled. 304:280,35[' ]| They were to be off as soon as possible. 304:280,35[O ]| "But what is 304:280,36[O ]| to be done about Pemberley?" 304:280,36[' ]| cried Mrs%*Gardiner. 304:280,37[O ]| "John told us Mr%*Darcy was here when you sent for 304:280,38[O ]| us; ~~ was it so?" 304:281,01[A ]| "Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep 304:281,02[A ]| our engagement. \That\ is all settled." 304:281,03[O ]| "That is all settled;" 304:281,03[' ]| repeated the other, as she ran 304:281,04[' ]| into her room to prepare. 304:281,04[O ]| "And are they upon such 304:281,05[O ]| terms as for her to disclose the real truth! Oh, that 304:281,06[O ]| I knew how it was!" 304:281,07[' ]| But wishes were vain; or at best could serve only to 304:281,08[' ]| amuse her in the hurry and confusion of the following 304:281,09[' ]| hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure to be idle, she 304:281,10[' ]| would have remained certain that all employment was 304:281,11[' ]| impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had 304:281,12[' ]| her share of business as well as her aunt, and amongst 304:281,13[' ]| the rest there were notes to be written to all their friends 304:281,14[' ]| in Lambton, with false excuses for their sudden departure. 304:281,15[' ]| An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr%*Gardiner 304:281,16[' ]| meanwhile having settled his account at the inn, 304:281,17[' ]| nothing remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, 304:281,18[' ]| after all the misery of the morning, found herself, in 304:281,19[' ]| a shorter space of time than she could have supposed, 304:281,20[' ]| seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn. 305:282,01[N ]| "I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth," 305:282,01[' ]| said 305:282,02[' ]| her uncle, as they drove from the town; 305:282,02[N ]| "and really, 305:282,03[N ]| upon serious consideration, I am much more inclined 305:282,04[N ]| than I was to judge as your eldest sister does of the matter. 305:282,05[N ]| It appears to me so very unlikely, that any young man 305:282,06[N ]| should form such a design against a girl who is by no 305:282,07[N ]| means unprotected or friendless, and who was actually 305:282,08[N ]| staying in his colonel's family, that I am strongly inclined 305:282,09[N ]| to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends would 305:282,10[N ]| not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again 305:282,11[N ]| by the regiment, after such an affront to Colonel*Forster? 305:282,12[N ]| His temptation is not adequate to the risk." 305:282,13[A ]| "Do you really think so?" 305:282,13[' ]| cried Elizabeth, brightening 305:282,14[' ]| up for a moment. 305:282,15[O ]| "Upon my word," 305:282,15[' ]| said Mrs%*Gardiner, 305:282,15[O ]| "I begin to be 305:282,16[O ]| of your uncle's opinion. It is really too great a violation 305:282,17[O ]| of decency, honour, and interest, for him to be guilty of 305:282,18[O ]| it. I cannot think so very ill of Wickham. Can you, 305:282,19[O ]| yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give him up, as to believe him 305:282,20[O ]| capable of it?" 305:282,21[A ]| "Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of 305:282,22[A ]| every other neglect I can believe him capable. If, indeed, 305:282,23[A ]| it should be so! But I dare not hope it. Why should 305:282,24[A ]| they not go on to Scotland, if that had been the case?" 305:282,25[N ]| "In the first place," 305:282,25[' ]| replied Mr%*Gardiner, 305:282,25[N ]| "there is 305:282,26[N ]| no absolute proof that they are not gone to Scotland." 305:282,27[A ]| "Oh! but their removing from the chaise into an 305:282,28[A ]| hackney coach is such a presumption! And, besides, no 305:282,29[A ]| traces of them were to be found on the Barnet road." 305:282,30[N ]| "Well, then ~~ supposing them to be in London. They 305:282,31[N ]| may be there, though for the purpose of concealment, 305:282,32[N ]| for no more exceptionable purpose. It is not likely that 305:282,33[N ]| money should be very abundant on either side; and it 305:283,01[N ]| might strike them that they could be more economically, 305:283,02[N ]| though less expeditiously, married in London, than in 305:283,03[N ]| Scotland." 305:283,04[A ]| "But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? 305:283,05[A ]| Why must their marriage be private? Oh! no, no, this 305:283,06[A ]| is not likely. His most particular friend, you see by 305:283,07[A ]| Jane's account, was persuaded of his never intending to 305:283,08[A ]| marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without 305:283,09[A ]| some money. He cannot afford it. And what claims has 305:283,10[A ]| Lydia, what attractions has she beyond youth, health, and 305:283,11[A ]| good*humour, that could make him for her sake, forego 305:283,12[A ]| every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As 305:283,13[A ]| to what restraint the apprehension of disgrace in the corps 305:283,14[A ]| might throw on a dishonourable elopement with her, I am 305:283,15[A ]| not able to judge; for I know nothing of the effects that 305:283,16[A ]| such a step might produce. But as to your other objection, 305:283,17[A ]| I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no 305:283,18[A ]| brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from 305:283,19[A ]| my father's behaviour, from his indolence and the little 305:283,20[A ]| attention he has ever seemed to give to what was going 305:283,21[A ]| forward in his family, that \he\ would do as little, and 305:283,22[A ]| think as little about it, as any father could do, in such 305:283,23[A ]| a matter." 305:283,24[N ]| "But can you think that Lydia is so lost to every*thing 305:283,25[N ]| but love of him, as to consent to live with him on any 305:283,26[N ]| other terms than marriage?" 305:283,27[A ]| "It does seem, and it is most shocking indeed," 305:283,27[' ]| replied 305:283,28[' ]| Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes, 305:283,28[A ]| "that a sister's sense 305:283,29[A ]| of decency and virtue in such a point should admit of 305:283,30[A ]| doubt. But, really, I know not what to say. Perhaps 305:283,31[A ]| I am not doing her justice. But she is very young; she 305:283,32[A ]| has never been taught to think on serious subjects; and 305:283,33[A ]| for the last half*year, nay, for a twelvemonth, she has 305:283,34[A ]| been given up to nothing but amusement and vanity. 305:283,35[A ]| She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most 305:283,36[A ]| idle and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions 305:283,37[A ]| that came in her way. Since the *****shire were first 305:283,38[A ]| quartered in Meryton, nothing but love, flirtation, and 305:284,01[A ]| officers, have been in her head. She has been doing 305:284,02[A ]| every*thing in her power by thinking and talking on the 305:284,03[A ]| subject, to give greater ~~ what shall I call it? susceptibility 305:284,04[A ]| to her feelings; which are naturally lively enough. 305:284,05[A ]| And we all know that Wickham has every charm of 305:284,06[A ]| person and address that can captivate a woman." 305:284,07[O ]| "But you see that Jane," 305:284,07[' ]| said her aunt, 305:284,07[O ]| "does not 305:284,08[O ]| think so ill of Wickham, as to believe him capable of the 305:284,09[O ]| attempt." 305:284,10[A ]| "Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, 305:284,11[A ]| whatever might be their former conduct, that she would 305:284,12[A ]| believe capable of such an attempt, till it were proved 305:284,13[A ]| against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what 305:284,14[A ]| Wickham really is. We both know that he has been 305:284,15[A ]| profligate in every sense of the word. That he has neither 305:284,16[A ]| integrity nor honour. That he is as false and deceitful, 305:284,17[A ]| as he is insinuating." 305:284,18[O ]| "And do you really know all this?" 305:284,18[' ]| cried Mrs%*Gardiner, 305:284,19[' ]| whose curiosity as to the mode of her intelligence 305:284,20[' ]| was all alive. 305:284,21[A ]| "I do, indeed," 305:284,21[' ]| replied Elizabeth, colouring. 305:284,21[A ]| "I told 305:284,22[A ]| you the other day, of his infamous behaviour to Mr%*Darcy; 305:284,23[A ]| and you, yourself, when last at Longbourn, heard in what 305:284,24[A ]| manner he spoke of the man, who had behaved with such 305:284,25[A ]| forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are 305:284,26[A ]| other circumstances which I am not at liberty ~~ which it 305:284,27[A ]| is not worth*while to relate; but his lies about the whole 305:284,28[A ]| Pemberley family are endless. From what he said of 305:284,29[A ]| Miss*Darcy, I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud, 305:284,30[A ]| reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary 305:284,31[A ]| himself. He must know that she was as amiable and 305:284,32[A ]| unpretending as we have found her." 305:284,33[O ]| "But does Lydia know nothing of this? Can she be 305:284,34[O ]| ignorant of what you and Jane seem so well to understand?" 305:284,35[O ]| 305:284,36[A ]| "Oh, yes! ~~ that, that is the worst of all. Till I was 305:284,37[A ]| in Kent, and saw so much both of Mr%*Darcy and his 305:284,38[A ]| relation, Colonel*Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth 305:285,01[A ]| myself. And when I returned home, the *****shire was 305:285,02[A ]| to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight's time. As that 305:285,03[A ]| was the case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, 305:285,04[A ]| nor I, thought it necessary to make our knowledge public; 305:285,05[A ]| for of what use could it apparently be to any*one, that 305:285,06[A ]| the good opinion which all the neighbourhood had of 305:285,07[A ]| him, should then be overthrown? And even when it was 305:285,08[A ]| settled that Lydia should go with Mrs%*Forster, the necessity 305:285,09[A ]| of opening her eyes to his character never occurred 305:285,10[A ]| to me. That \she\ could be in any danger from the deception 305:285,11[A ]| never entered my head. That such a consequence as \this\ 305:285,12[A ]| should ensue, you may easily believe was far enough from 305:285,13[A ]| my thoughts." 305:285,14[O ]| "When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you 305:285,15[O ]| had no reason, I suppose, to believe them fond of each 305:285,16[O ]| other." 305:285,17[A ]| "Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of 305:285,18[A ]| affection on either side; and had any*thing of the kind 305:285,19[A ]| been perceptible, you must be aware that ours is not a 305:285,20[A ]| family, on which it could be thrown away. When first 305:285,21[A ]| he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire 305:285,22[A ]| him; but so we all were. Every girl in, or near Meryton, 305:285,23[A ]| was out of her senses about him for the first two months; 305:285,24[A ]| but he never distinguished \her\ by any particular attention, 305:285,25[A ]| and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant 305:285,26[A ]| and wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others 305:285,27[A ]| of the regiment, who treated her with more distinction, 305:285,28[A ]| again became her favourites." 305:285,29[' ]| ~~~ 305:285,30[' ]| It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty 305:285,31[' ]| could be added to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on 305:285,32[' ]| this interesting subject, by its repeated discussion, no 305:285,33[' ]| other could detain them from it long, during the whole 305:285,34[' ]| of the journey. From Elizabeth's thoughts it was never 305:285,35[' ]| absent. Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish, self*reproach, 305:285,36[' ]| she could find no interval of ease or forgetfulness. 305:285,37[' ]| They travelled as expeditiously as possible; and sleeping 305:286,01[' ]| one night on the road, reached Longbourn by dinner-time 305:286,02[' ]| the next day. It was a comfort to Elizabeth to consider 305:286,03[' ]| that Jane could not have been wearied by long expectations. 305:286,04[' ]| 305:286,05[' ]| The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, 305:286,06[' ]| were standing on the steps of the house, as they entered 305:286,07[' ]| the paddock; and when the carriage drove up to the door, 305:286,08[' ]| the joyful surprise that lighted up their faces, and displayed 305:286,09[' ]| itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of capers 305:286,10[' ]| and frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their welcome. 305:286,11[' ]| Elizabeth jumped out; and, after giving each of them 305:286,12[' ]| an hasty kiss, hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who 305:286,13[' ]| came running down*stairs from her mother's apartment, 305:286,14[' ]| immediately met her. 305:286,15[' ]| Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst 305:286,16[' ]| tears filled the eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking 305:286,17[' ]| whether any*thing had been heard of the fugitives. 305:286,18[E ]| "Not yet," 305:286,18[' ]| replied Jane. 305:286,18[E ]| "But now that my dear 305:286,19[E ]| uncle is come, I hope every*thing will be well." 305:286,20[A ]| "Is my father in town?" 305:286,21[E ]| "Yes, he went on Tuesday as I wrote you word." 305:286,22[A ]| "And have you heard from him often?" 305:286,23[E ]| "We have heard only once. He wrote me a few lines 305:286,24[E ]| on Wednesday, to say that he had arrived in safety, and 305:286,25[E ]| to give me his directions, which I particularly begged him 305:286,26[E ]| to do. He merely added, that he should not write again, 305:286,27[E ]| till he had something of importance to mention." 305:286,28[A ]| "And my mother ~~ How is she? How are you all?" 305:286,29[E ]| "My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her 305:286,30[E ]| spirits are greatly shaken. She is up*stairs, and will have 305:286,31[E ]| great satisfaction in seeing you all. She does not yet 305:286,32[E ]| leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank Heaven! 305:286,33[E ]| are quite well." 305:286,34[A ]| "But you ~~ How are you?" 305:286,34[' ]| cried Elizabeth. 305:286,34[A ]| "You 305:286,35[A ]| look pale. How much you must have gone through!" 305:286,36[' ]| Her sister, however, assured her, of her being perfectly 305:286,37[' ]| well; and their conversation, which had been passing 305:286,38[' ]| while Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner were engaged with their 305:287,01[' ]| children, was now put an end to, by the approach of the 305:287,02[' ]| whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed 305:287,03[' ]| and thanked them both, with alternate smiles and 305:287,04[' ]| tears. 305:287,05[' ]| When they were all in the drawing*room, the questions 305:287,06[' ]| which Elizabeth had already asked, were of course 305:287,07[' ]| repeated by the others, and they soon found that Jane 305:287,08[' ]| had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of good, 305:287,09[' ]| however, which the benevolence of her heart suggested, 305:287,10[' ]| had not yet deserted her; she still expected that it would 305:287,11[' ]| all end well, and that every morning would bring some 305:287,12[' ]| letter, either from Lydia or her father, to explain their 305:287,13[' ]| proceedings, and perhaps announce the marriage. 305:287,14[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, 305:287,15[' ]| after a few minutes conversation together, received them 305:287,16[' ]| exactly as might be expected; with tears and lamentations 305:287,17[' ]| of regret, invectives against the villanous conduct 305:287,18[' ]| of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and 305:287,19[' ]| ill*usage; blaming every*body but the person to whose 305:287,20[' ]| ill*judging indulgence the errors of her daughter must be 305:287,21[' ]| principally owing. 305:287,22[D ]| "If I had been able," 305:287,22[' ]| said she, 305:287,22[D ]| "to carry my point of 305:287,23[D ]| going to Brighton, with all my family, \this\ would not 305:287,24[D ]| have happened; but poor dear Lydia had nobody to 305:287,25[D ]| take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go 305;287,26[D ]| out of their sight? I am sure there was some great 305:287,27[D ]| neglect or other on their side, for she is not the kind of 305:287,28[D ]| girl to do such a thing, if she had been well looked after. 305:287,29[D ]| I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge 305:287,30[D ]| of her; but I was over-ruled, as I always am. Poor 305:287,31[D ]| dear child! And now here's Mr%*Bennet gone away, and 305:287,32[D ]| I know he will fight Wickham, wherever he meets him, 305:287,33[D ]| and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all? 305:287,33[D ]| The Collinses will turn us out, before he is cold in his 305:287,34[D ]| grave; and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not 305:287,35[D ]| know what we shall do." 305:287,36[' ]| They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and 305:287,37[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner, after general assurances of his affection for 305:288,01[' ]| her and all her family, told her that 305:288,01@n | he meant to be in 305:288,02@n | London the very next day, and would assist Mr%*Bennet 305:288,03@n | in every endeavour for recovering Lydia. 305:288,04[N ]| "Do not give way to useless alarm," 305:288,04[' ]| added he, 305:288,04[N ]| "though 305:288,05[N ]| it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion 305:288,06[N ]| to look on it as certain. It is not quite a week since they 305:288,07[N ]| left Brighton. In a few days more, we may gain some 305:288,08[N ]| news of them, and till we know that they are not married, 305:288,09[N ]| and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the 305:288,10[N ]| matter over as lost. As soon as I get to town, I shall 305:288,11[N ]| go to my brother, and make him come home with me to 305:288,12[N ]| Gracechurch*Street, and then we may consult together as 305:288,13[N ]| to what is to be done." 305:288,14[D ]| "Oh! my dear brother," 305:288,14[' ]| replied Mrs%*Bennet, 305:288,14[D ]| "that 305:288,15[D ]| is exactly what I could most wish for. And now do, 305:288,16[D ]| when you get to town, find them out, wherever they may 305:288,17[D ]| be; and if they are not married already, \make\ them 305:288,18[D ]| marry. And as for wedding*clothes, do not let them wait 305:288,19[D ]| for that, but tell Lydia she shall have as much money 305:288,20[D ]| as she chuses, to buy them, after they are married. And, 305:288,21[D ]| above all things, keep Mr%*Bennet from fighting. Tell 305:288,22[D ]| him what a dreadful state I am in, ~~ that I am frightened 305:288,23[D ]| out of my wits; and have such tremblings, such flutterings, 305:288,24[D ]| all over me, such spasms in my side, and pains in 305:288,25[D ]| my head, and such beatings at heart, that I can get no 305:288,26[D ]| rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear Lydia, not 305:288,27[D ]| to give any directions about her clothes, till she has seen 305:288,28[D ]| me, for she does not know which are the best warehouses. 305:288,29[D ]| Oh, brother, how kind you are! I know you will contrive 305:288,30[D ]| it all." 305:288,31[' ]| But Mr%*Gardiner, though he assured her again of his 305:288,32[' ]| earnest endeavours in the cause, could not avoid recommending 305:288,33[' ]| moderation to her, as well in her hopes as her 305:288,34[' ]| fears; and, after talking with her in this manner till 305:288,35[' ]| dinner was on table, they left her to vent all her feelings 305:288,36[' ]| on the housekeeper, who attended, in the absence of her 305:288,37[' ]| daughters. 305:288,38[' ]| Though her brother and sister were persuaded that 305:289,01[' ]| there was no real occasion for such a seclusion from the 305:289,02[' ]| family, they did not attempt to oppose it, for they knew 305:289,03[' ]| that she had not prudence enough to hold her tongue 305:289,04[' ]| before the servants, while they waited at table, and 305:289,05[' ]| judged it better that \one\ only of the household, and the 305:289,06[' ]| one whom they could most trust, should comprehend all 305:289,07[' ]| her fears and solicitude on the subject. 305:289,08[' ]| In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and 305:289,09[' ]| Kitty, who had been too busily engaged in their separate 305:289,10[' ]| apartments, to make their appearance before. One came 305:289,11[' ]| from her books, and the other from her toilette. The 305:289,12[' ]| faces of both, however, were tolerably calm; and no 305:289,13[' ]| change was visible in either, except that the loss of her 305:289,14[' ]| favourite sister, or the anger which she had herself incurred 305:289,15[' ]| in the business, had given something more of fretfulness 305:289,16[' ]| than usual, to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was 305:289,17[' ]| mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth with 305:289,18[' ]| a countenance of grave reflection, soon after they were 305:289,19[' ]| seated at table, 305:289,20[F ]| "This is a most unfortunate affair; and will probably 305:289,21[F ]| be much talked of. But we must stem the tide of malice, 305:289,22[F ]| and pour into the wounded bosoms of each other, the 305:289,23[F ]| balm of sisterly consolation." 305:289,24[' ]| Then, perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, 305:289,25[' ]| she added, 305:289,25[F ]| "Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, 305:289,26[F ]| we may draw from it this useful lesson; that loss of 305:289,27[F ]| virtue in a female is irretrievable ~~ that one false step 305:289,28[F ]| involves her in endless ruin ~~ that her reputation is no 305:289,29[F ]| less brittle than it is beautiful, ~~ and that she cannot be 305:289,30[F ]| too much guarded in her behaviour towards the undeserving 305:289,31[F ]| of the other sex." 305:289,32[' ]| Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too 305:289,33[' ]| much oppressed to make any reply. Mary, however, 305:289,34[' ]| continued to console herself with such kind of moral 305:289,35[' ]| extractions from the evil before them. 305:289,36[' ]| In the afternoon, the two elder Miss*Bennets were able 305:289,37[' ]| to be for half an hour by themselves; and Elizabeth 305:289,38[' ]| instantly availed herself of the opportunity of making many 305:290,01[' ]| enquiries, which Jane was equally eager to satisfy. After 305:290,02[' ]| joining in general lamentations over the dreadful sequel 305:290,03[' ]| of this event, which Elizabeth considered as all but 305:290,04[' ]| certain, and Miss*Bennet could not assert to be wholly 305:290,05[' ]| impossible; the former continued the subject, by saying, 305:290,06[A ]| "But tell me all and every*thing about it, which I have 305:290,07[A ]| not already heard. Give me farther particulars. What 305:290,08[A ]| did Colonel*Forster say? Had they no apprehension of 305:290,09[A ]| any*thing before the elopement took place? They must 305:290,10[A ]| have seen them together for*ever." 305:290,11[E ]| "Colonel*Forster did own that he had often suspected 305:290,12[E ]| some partiality, especially on Lydia's side, but nothing 305:290,13[E ]| to give him any alarm. I am so grieved for him. His 305:290,14[E ]| behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He \was\ 305:290,15[E ]| coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he 305:290,16[E ]| had any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when 305:290,17[E ]| that apprehension first got abroad, it hastened his journey." 305:290,18[A ]| "And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not 305:290,19[A ]| marry? Did he know of their intending to go off? Had 305:290,20[A ]| Colonel*Forster seen Denny himself?" 305:290,21[E ]| "Yes; but when questioned by \him\ Denny denied 305:290,22[E ]| knowing any*thing of their plan, and would not give his 305:290,23[E ]| real opinion about it. He did not repeat his persuasion 305:290,24[E ]| of their not marrying ~~ and from \that\, I am inclined to 305:290,25[E ]| hope, he might have been misunderstood before." 305:290,26[A ]| "And till Colonel*Forster came himself, not one of you 305:290,27[A ]| entertained a doubt, I suppose, of their being really 305:290,28[A ]| married?" 305:290,29[E ]| "How was it possible that such an idea should enter 305:290,30[E ]| our brains! I felt a little uneasy ~~ a little fearful of my 305:290,31[E ]| sister's happiness with him in marriage, because I knew 305:290,32[E ]| that his conduct had not been always quite right. My 305:290,33[E ]| father and mother knew nothing of that, they only felt 305:290,34[E ]| how imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, 305:290,35[E ]| with a very natural triumph on knowing more than the 305:290,36[E ]| rest of us, that in Lydia's last letter, she had prepared 305:290,37[E ]| her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their 305:290,38[E ]| being in love with each other, many weeks." 305:291,01[A ]| "But not before they went to Brighton?" 305:291,02[E ]| "No, I believe not." 305:291,03[A ]| "And did Colonel*Forster appear to think ill of Wickham 305:291,04[A ]| himself? Does he know his real character?" 305:291,05[E ]| "I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham 305:291,06[E ]| as he formerly did. He believed him to be imprudent 305:291,07[E ]| and extravagant. And since this sad affair has taken 305:291,08[E ]| place, it is said, that he left Meryton greatly in debt; but 305:291,09[E ]| I hope this may be false." 305:291,10[A ]| "Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what 305:291,11[A ]| we knew of him, this could not have happened!" 305:291,12[E ]| "Perhaps it would have been better;" 305:291,12[' ]| replied her 305:291,13[' ]| sister. 305:291,13[E ]| "But to expose the former faults of any person, 305:291,14[E ]| without knowing what their present feelings were, seemed 305:291,15[E ]| unjustifiable. We acted with the best intentions." 305:291,16[A ]| "Could Colonel*Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia's 305:291,17[A ]| note to his wife?" 305:291,18[E ]| "He brought it with him for us to see." 305:291,19[' ]| Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it 305:291,20[' ]| to Elizabeth. These were the contents: 305:291,21[' ]| 305:291,22[H ]| "MY DEAR HARRIET, 305:291,23[H ]| "You will laugh when you know where I am gone, 305:291,24[H ]| and I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow 305:291,25[H ]| morning, as soon as I am missed. I am going to 305:291,26[H ]| Gretna*Green, and if you cannot guess with who, I shall 305:291,27[H ]| think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the 305:291,28[H ]| world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy 305:291,29[H ]| without him, so think it no harm to be off. You need 305:291,30[H ]| not send them word at Longbourn of my going, if you 305:291,31[H ]| do not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater, 305:291,32[H ]| when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia*Wickham. 305:291,33[H ]| What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for 305:291,34[H ]| laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt, for not keeping 305:291,35[H ]| my engagement, and dancing with him to*night. Tell 305:291,36[H ]| him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all, and tell 305:291,37[H ]| him I will dance with him at the next ball we meet, with 305:291,38[H ]| great pleasure. I shall send for my clothes when I get 305:292,01[H ]| to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to mend 305:292,02[H ]| a great slit in my worked muslin gown, before they are 305:292,03[H ]| packed up. Good*bye. Give my love to Colonel*Forster, 305:292,04[H ]| I hope you will drink to our good journey. 305:292,05[H ]| "Your affectionate friend, 305:292,06[H ]| "LYDIA*BENNET." 305:292,07[H ]| 305:292,08[A ]| "Oh! thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!" 305:292,08[' ]| cried Elizabeth 305:292,09[' ]| when she had finished it. 305:292,09[A ]| "What a letter is this, 305:292,10[A ]| to be written at such a moment. But at least it shews, 305:292,11[A ]| that \she\ was serious in the object of her journey. Whatever 305:292,12[A ]| he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her 305:292,13[A ]| side a \scheme\ of infamy. My poor father! how he must 305:292,14[A ]| have felt it!" 305:292,15[E ]| "I never saw any*one so shocked. He could not speak 305:292,16[E ]| a word for full ten minutes. My mother was taken ill 305:292,17[E ]| immediately, and the whole house in such confusion!" 305:292,18[A ]| "Oh! Jane," 305:292,18[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 305:292,18[A ]| "was there a servant 305:292,19[A ]| belonging to it, who did not know the whole story before 305:292,20[A ]| the end of the day?" 305:292,21[E ]| "I do not know. ~~ I hope there was. ~~ But to be guarded 305:292,22[E ]| at such a time, is very difficult. My mother was in 305:292,23[E ]| hysterics, and though I endeavoured to give her every 305:292,24[E ]| assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so much 305:292,25[E ]| as I might have done! But the horror of what might 305:292,26[E ]| possibly happen, almost took from me my faculties." 305:292,27[A ]| "Your attendance upon her, has been too much for 305:292,28[A ]| you. You do not look well. Oh! that I had been with 305:292,29[A ]| you, you have had every care and anxiety upon yourself 305:292,30[A ]| alone." 305:292,31[E ]| "Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would 305:292,32[E ]| have shared in every fatigue, I am sure, but I did not 305:292,33[E ]| think it right for either of them. Kitty is slight and 305:292,34[E ]| delicate, and Mary studies so much, that her hours of 305:292,35[E ]| repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Phillips 305:292,36[E ]| came to Longbourn on Tuesday, after my father went 305:292,37[E ]| away; and was so good as to stay till Thursday with me. 305:292,38[E ]| She was of great use and comfort to us all, and lady*Lucas 305:293,01[E ]| has been very kind; she walked here on Wednesday 305:293,02[E ]| morning to condole with us, and offered her services, 305:293,03[E ]| or any of her daughters, if they could be of use to us." 305:293,04[A ]| "She had better have stayed at home," 305:293,04[' ]| cried Elizabeth; 305:293,05[A ]| "perhaps she \meant\ well, but, under such a misfortune 305:293,06[A ]| as this, one cannot see too little of one's neighbours. 305:293,07[A ]| Assistance is impossible; condolence, insufferable. Let 305:293,08[A ]| them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied." 305:293,09[' ]| She then proceeded to enquire into the measures which 305:293,10[' ]| her father had intended to pursue, while in town, for 305:293,11[' ]| the recovery of his daughter. 305:293,12[E ]| "He meant, I believe," 305:293,12[' ]| replied Jane, 305:293,12[E ]| "to go to Epsom, 305:293,13[E ]| the place where they last changed horses, see the postilions, 305:293,14[E ]| and try if any*thing could be made out from them. His 305:293,15[E ]| principal object must be, to discover the number of the 305:293,16[E ]| hackney*coach which took them from Clapham. It had 305:293,17[E ]| come with a fare from London; and as he thought the 305:293,18[E ]| circumstance of a gentleman and lady's removing from 305:293,19[E ]| one carriage into another, might be remarked, he meant 305:293,20[E ]| to make enquiries at Clapham. If he could any*how discover 305:293,21[E ]| at what house the coachman had before set down 305:293,22[E ]| his fare, he determined to make enquiries there, and hoped 305:293,23[E ]| it might not be impossible to find out the stand and number 305:293,24[E ]| of the coach. I do not know of any other designs that 305:293,25[E ]| he had formed: but he was in such a hurry to be gone, 305:293,26[E ]| and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty 305:293,27[E ]| in finding out even so much as this." 306:294,01[' ]| The whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr%*Bennet 306:294,02[' ]| the next morning, but the post came in without 306:294,03[' ]| bringing a single line from him. His family knew him to 306:294,04[' ]| be on all common occasions, a most negligent and dilatory 306:294,05[' ]| correspondent, but at such a time, they had hoped for 306:294,06[' ]| exertion. They were forced to conclude, that he had no 306:294,07[' ]| pleasing intelligence to send, but even of \that\ they would 306:294,08[' ]| have been glad to be certain. Mr%*Gardiner had waited 306:294,09[' ]| only for the letters before he set off. 306:294,10[' ]| When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving 306:294,11[' ]| constant information of what was going on, and their 306:294,12[' ]| uncle promised, at parting, to prevail on Mr%*Bennet to 306:294,13[' ]| return to Longbourn, as soon as he could, to the great 306:294,14[' ]| consolation of his sister, who considered it as the only 306:294,15[' ]| security for her husband's not being killed in a duel. 306:294,16[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire 306:294,17[' ]| a few days longer, as the former thought her 306:294,18[' ]| presence might be serviceable to her nieces. She shared 306:294,19[' ]| in their attendance on Mrs%*Bennet, and was a great 306:294,20[' ]| comfort to them, in their hours of freedom. Their other 306:294,21[' ]| aunt also visited them frequently, and always, as she said, 306:294,22[' ]| with the design of cheering and heartening them up, 306:294,23[' ]| though as she never came without reporting some fresh 306:294,24[' ]| instance of Wickham's extravagance or irregularity, she 306:294,25[' ]| seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited 306:294,26[' ]| than she found them. 306:294,27[' ]| All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man, who, 306:294,28[' ]| but three months before, had been almost an angel of 306:294,29[' ]| light. He was declared to be in debt to every tradesman 306:294,30[' ]| in the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with the title 306:294,31[' ]| of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman's 306:294,32[' ]| family. Every*body declared that he was the wickedest 306:294,33[' ]| young man in the world; and every*body began to find 306:295,01[' ]| out, that they had always distrusted the appearance of 306:295,02[' ]| his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above 306:295,03[' ]| half of what was said, believed enough to make her former 306:295,04[' ]| assurance of her sister's ruin still more certain; and even 306:295,05[' ]| Jane, who believed still less of it, became almost hopeless, 306:295,06[' ]| more especially as the time was now come, when if they 306:295,07[' ]| had gone to Scotland, which she had never before entirely 306:295,08[' ]| despaired of, they must in all probability have gained 306:295,09[' ]| some news of them. 306:295,10[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday, 306:295,11[' ]| his wife received a letter from him; it told them, that 306:295,12[' ]| on his arrival, he had immediately found out his brother, 306:295,13[' ]| and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch*street. That 306:295,14[' ]| Mr%*Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his 306:295,15[' ]| arrival, but without gaining any satisfactory information; 306:295,16[' ]| and that he was now determined to enquire at all the 306:295,17[' ]| principal hotels in town, as Mr%*Bennet thought it possible 306:295,18[' ]| they might have gone to one of them, on their first coming 306:295,19[' ]| to London, before they procured lodgings. Mr%*Gardiner 306:295,20[' ]| himself did not expect any success from this measure, 306:295,21[' ]| but as his brother was eager in it, he meant to assist him 306:295,22[' ]| in pursuing it. He added, that Mr%*Bennet seemed wholly 306:295,23[' ]| disinclined at present, to leave London, and promised to 306:295,24[' ]| write again very soon. There was also a postscript to this 306:295,25[' ]| effect. 306:295,26[N ]| "I have written to Colonel*Forster to desire him to 306:295,27[N ]| find out, if possible, from some of the young man's intimates 306:295,28[N ]| in the regiment, whether Wickham has any relations 306:295,29[N ]| or connections, who would be likely to know in what part 306:295,30[N ]| of the town he has now concealed himself. If there were 306:295,31[N ]| any*one, that one could apply to, with a probability of 306:295,32[N ]| gaining such a clue as that, it might be of essential consequence. 306:295,33[N ]| At present we have nothing to guide us. Colonel*Forster 306:295,34[N ]| will, I dare say, do every*thing in his power to 306:295,35[N ]| satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps 306:295,36[N ]| Lizzy could tell us, what relations he has now living, 306:295,37[N ]| better than any other person." 306:295,38[' ]| Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence 306:296,01[' ]| this deference for her authority proceeded; but it was 306:296,02[' ]| not in her power to give any information of so satisfactory 306:296,03[' ]| a nature, as the compliment deserved. 306:296,04[' ]| She had never heard of his having had any relations, 306:296,05[' ]| except a father and mother, both of whom had been dead 306:296,06[' ]| many years. It was possible, however, that some of his 306:296,07[' ]| companions in the *****shire, might be able to give 306:296,08[' ]| more information; and, though she was not very sanguine 306:296,09[' ]| in expecting it, the application was a something to look 306:296,10[' ]| forward to. 306:296,11[' ]| Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; 306:296,12[' ]| but the most anxious part of each was when the post 306:296,13[' ]| was expected. The arrival of letters was the first grand 306:296,14[' ]| object of every morning's impatience. Through letters, 306:296,15[' ]| whatever of good or bad was to be told, would be communicated, 306:296,16[' ]| and every succeeding day was expected to 306:296,17[' ]| bring some news of importance. 306:296,18[' ]| But before they heard again from Mr%*Gardiner, a letter 306:296,19[' ]| arrived for their father, from a different quarter, from 306:296,20[' ]| Mr%*Collins; which, as Jane had received directions to 306:296,21[' ]| open all that came for him in his absence, she accordingly 306:296,22[' ]| read; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his letters 306:296,23[' ]| always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. It was 306:296,24[' ]| as follows: 306:296,25[' ]| 306:296,26[K ]| "MY DEAR SIR, 306:296,27[K ]| "I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and 306:296,28[K ]| my situation in life, to condole with you on the grievous 306:296,29[K ]| affliction you are now suffering under, of which we were 306:296,30[K ]| yesterday informed by a letter from Hertfordshire. Be 306:296,31[K ]| assured, my dear Sir, that Mrs%*Collins and myself sincerely 306:296,32[K ]| sympathise with you, and all your respectable family, in 306:296,33[K ]| your present distress, which must be of the bitterest kind, 306:296,34[K ]| because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. 306:296,35[K ]| No arguments shall be wanting on my part, that can 306:296,36[K ]| alleviate so severe a misfortune; or that may comfort 306:296,37[K ]| you, under a circumstance that must be of all others most 306:296,38[K ]| afflicting to a parent's mind. The death of your daughter 306:297,01[K ]| would have been a blessing in comparison of this. And 306:297,02[K ]| it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason to 306:297,03[K ]| suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this 306:297,04[K ]| licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter, has proceeded 306:297,05[K ]| from a faulty degree of indulgence, though, at the 306:297,06[K ]| same time, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs%*Bennet, 306:297,07[K ]| I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be 306:297,08[K ]| naturally bad, or she could not be guilty of such an 306:297,09[K ]| enormity, at so early an age. Howsoever that may be, 306:297,10[K ]| you are grievously to be pitied, in which opinion I am not 306:297,11[K ]| only joined by Mrs%*Collins, but likewise by lady*Catherine 306:297,12[K ]| and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair. 306:297,13[K ]| They agree with me in apprehending that this false step 306:297,14[K ]| in one daughter, will be injurious to the fortunes of all 306:297,15[K ]| the others, for who, as lady*Catherine herself condescendingly 306:297,16[K ]| says, will connect themselves with such a family. 306:297,17[K ]| And this consideration leads me moreover to reflect with 306:297,18[K ]| augmented satisfaction on a certain event of last November, 306:297,19[K ]| for had it been otherwise, I must have been involved 306:297,20[K ]| in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you then, 306:297,21[K ]| my dear Sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to 306:297,22[K ]| throw off your unworthy child from your affection for*ever, 306:297,23[K ]| and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous 306:297,24[K ]| offence. 306:297,25[K ]| "I am, dear Sir, &c% &c%" 306:297,26[K ]| 306:297,27[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner did not write again, till he had received 306:297,28[' ]| an answer from Colonel*Forster; and then he had nothing 306:297,29[' ]| of a pleasant nature to send. It was not known that 306:297,30[' ]| Wickham had a single relation, with whom he kept up 306:297,31[' ]| any connection, and it was certain that he had no near 306:297,32[' ]| one living. His former acquaintance had been numerous; 306:297,33[' ]| but since he had been in the militia, it did not appear that 306:297,34[' ]| he was on terms of particular friendship with any of them. 306:297,35[' ]| There was no*one therefore who could be pointed out, as 306:297,36[' ]| likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state 306:297,37[' ]| of his own finances, there was a very powerful motive for 306:297,38[' ]| secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery by Lydia's 306:297,39[' ]| relations, for it had just transpired that he had left gaming 306:298,01[' ]| debts behind him, to a very considerable amount. Colonel*Forster 306:298,02[' ]| believed that more than a thousand pounds would 306:298,03[' ]| be necessary to clear his expences at Brighton. He owed 306:298,04[' ]| a good deal in the town, but his debts of honour were still 306:298,05[' ]| more formidable. Mr%*Gardiner did not attempt to conceal 306:298,06[' ]| these particulars from the Longbourn family; Jane heard 306:298,07[' ]| them with horror. 306:298,07[E ]| "A gamester!" 306:298,07[' ]| she cried. 306:298,07[E ]| "This is 306:298,08[E ]| wholly unexpected. I had not an idea of it." 306:298,09[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner added in his letter, that they might expect 306:298,10[' ]| to see their father at home on the following day, which was 306:298,11[' ]| Saturday. Rendered spiritless by the ill-success of all 306:298,12[' ]| their endeavours, he had yielded to his brother-in-law's 306:298,13[' ]| intreaty that he would return to his family, and leave it 306:298,14[' ]| to him to do, whatever occasion might suggest to be 306:298,15[' ]| advisable for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs%*Bennet 306:298,16[' ]| was told of this, she did not express so much satisfaction 306:298,17[' ]| as her children expected, considering what her anxiety 306:298,18[' ]| for his life had been before. 306:298,19[D ]| "What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia!" 306:298,20[' ]| she cried. 306:298,20[D ]| "Sure he will not leave London before he has 306:298,21[D ]| found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him 306:298,22[D ]| marry her, if he comes away?" 306:298,23[' ]| As Mrs%*Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was 306:298,24[' ]| settled that she and her children should go to London, 306:298,25[' ]| at the same time that Mr%*Bennet came from it. The 306:298,26[' ]| coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their journey, 306:298,27[' ]| and brought its master back to Longbourn. 306:298,28[' ]| Mrs%*Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about 306:298,29[' ]| Elizabeth and her Derbyshire friend, that had attended 306:298,30[' ]| her from that part of the world. His name had never 306:298,31[' ]| been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; 306:298,32[' ]| and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs%*Gardiner had 306:298,33[' ]| formed, of their being followed by a letter from him, 306:298,34[' ]| had ended in nothing. 306:298,34@o | Elizabeth had received none since 306:298,35@o | her return, that could come from Pemberley. 306:298,36@o | The present unhappy state of the family, rendered any 306:298,37@o | other excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; 306:298,38@o | nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from \that\, 306:299,01[' ]| though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well 306:299,02[' ]| acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware, 306:299,03[' ]| that, 306:299,03@a | had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have 306:299,04@a | borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It 306:299,05@a | would have spared her, 306:299,05[' ]| she thought, 306:299,05@a | one sleepless night 306:299,06@a | out of two. 306:299,07[' ]| When Mr%*Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance 306:299,08[' ]| of his usual philosophic composure. He said as little as 306:299,09[' ]| he had ever been in the habit of saying; made no mention 306:299,10[' ]| of the business that had taken him away, and it was 306:299,11[' ]| some time before his daughters had courage to speak of it. 306:299,12[' ]| It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at 306:299,13[' ]| tea, that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; 306:299,14[' ]| and then, on her briefly expressing her sorrow for what 306:299,15[' ]| he must have endured, he replied, 306:299,15[C ]| "Say nothing of that. 306:299,16[C ]| Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own 306:299,17[C ]| doing, and I ought to feel it." 306:299,18[A ]| "You must not be too severe upon yourself," 306:299,18[' ]| replied 306:299,19[' ]| Elizabeth. 306:299,20[C ]| "You may well warn me against such an evil. Human 306:299,21[C ]| nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once 306:299,22[C ]| in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not 306:299,23[C ]| afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will 306:299,24[C ]| pass away soon enough." 306:299,25[A ]| "Do you suppose them to be in London?" 306:299,26[C ]| "Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?" 306:299,27[G ]| "And Lydia used to want to go to London," 306:299,27[' ]| added 306:299,28[' ]| Kitty. 306:299,29[C ]| "She is happy, then," 306:299,29[' ]| said her father, drily; 306:299,29[C ]| "and 306:299,30[C ]| her residence there will probably be of some duration." 306:299,31[' ]| Then, after a short silence, he continued, 306:299,31[C ]| "Lizzy, I bear 306:299,32[C ]| you no ill-will for being justified in your advice to me 306:299,33[C ]| last May, which, considering the event, shews some 306:299,34[C ]| greatness of mind." 306:299,35[' ]| They were interrupted by Miss*Bennet, who came to 306:299,36[' ]| fetch her mother's tea. 306:299,37[C ]| "This is a parade," 306:299,37[' ]| cried he, 306:299,37[C ]| "which does one good; 306:299,38[C ]| it gives such an elegance to misfortune! Another day 306:300,01[C ]| I will do the same; I will sit in my library, in my night*cap 306:300,02[C ]| and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as I can, ~~ 306:300,03[C ]| or, perhaps, I may defer it, till Kitty runs away." 306:300,04[G ]| "I am not going to run away, Papa," 306:300,04[' ]| said Kitty, 306:300,05[' ]| fretfully; 306:300,05[G ]| "if \I\ should ever go to Brighton, I would 306:300,06[G ]| behave better than Lydia." 306:300,07[C ]| "You go to Brighton! ~~ I would not trust you so near 306:300,08[C ]| it as East*Bourne, for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have 306:300,09[C ]| at last learnt to be cautious, and you will feel the effects 306:300,10[C ]| of it. No officer is ever to enter my house again, nor even 306:300,11[C ]| to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely 306:300,12[C ]| prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. 306:300,13[C ]| And you are never to stir out of doors, till you can prove, 306:300,14[C ]| that you have spent ten minutes of every day in a rational 306:300,15[C ]| manner." 306:300,16[' ]| Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, 306:300,17[' ]| began to cry. 306:300,18[C ]| "Well, well," 306:300,18[' ]| said he, 306:300,18[C ]| "do not make yourself unhappy. 306:300,19[C ]| If you are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take 306:300,20[C ]| you to a review at the end of them." 307:301,01[' ]| Two days after Mr%*Bennet's return, as Jane and 307:301,02[' ]| Elizabeth were walking together in the shrubbery behind 307:301,03[' ]| the house, they saw the housekeeper coming towards 307:301,04[' ]| them, and, concluding that she came to call them to their 307:301,05[' ]| mother, went forward to meet her; but, instead of the 307:301,06[' ]| expected summons, when they approached her, she said 307:301,07[' ]| to Miss*Bennet, 307:301,07[V ]| "I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting 307:301,08[V ]| you, but I was in hopes you might have got some 307:301,09[V ]| good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming 307:301,10[V ]| to ask." 307:301,11[E ]| "What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing 307:301,12[E ]| from town." 307:301,13[V ]| "Dear madam," 307:301,13[' ]| cried Mrs%*Hill, in great astonishment, 307:301,14[V ]| "dont you know there is an express come for master 307:301,15[V ]| from Mr%*Gardiner? He has been here this half*hour, and 307:301,16[V ]| master has had a letter." 307:301,17[' ]| Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for 307:301,18[' ]| speech. They ran through the vestibule into the breakfast*room; 307:301,19[' ]| from thence to the library; ~~ their father was in 307:301,20[' ]| neither; and they were on the point of seeking him up*stairs 307:301,21[' ]| with their mother, when they were met by the butler, 307:301,22[' ]| who said, 307:301,23[W ]| "If you are looking for my master, ma'am, he is walking 307:301,24[W ]| towards the little copse." 307:301,25[' ]| Upon this information, they instantly passed through 307:301,26[' ]| the hall once more, and ran across the lawn after their 307:301,27[' ]| father, who was deliberately pursuing his way towards 307:301,28[' ]| a small wood on one side of the paddock. 307:301,29[' ]| Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of 307:301,30[' ]| running as Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, 307:301,31[' ]| panting for breath, came up with him, and eagerly cried out, 307:301,32[A ]| "Oh, Papa, what news? what news? have you heard 307:301,33[A ]| from my uncle?" 307:302,01[C ]| "Yes, I have had a letter from him by express." 307:302,02[A ]| "Well, and what news does it bring? good or bad?" 307:302,03[C ]| "What is there of good to be expected?" 307:302,03[' ]| said he, 307:302,04[' ]| taking the letter from his pocket; 307:302,04[C ]| "but perhaps you 307:302,05[C ]| would like to read it." 307:302,06[' ]| Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane 307:302,07[' ]| now came up. 307:302,08[C ]| "Read it aloud," 307:302,08[' ]| said their father, 307:302,08[C ]| "for I hardly know 307:302,09[C ]| myself what it is about." 307:302,10[C ]| 307:302,11[N ]| "Gracechurch-street, Monday, 307:302,12[N ]| August*2. 307:302,13[N ]| "MY DEAR BROTHER, 307:302,14[N ]| "At last I am able to send you some tidings of my 307:302,15[N ]| niece, and such as, upon the whole, I hope will give you 307:302,16[N ]| satisfaction. Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was 307:302,17[N ]| fortunate enough to find out in what part of London they 307:302,18[N ]| were. The particulars, I reserve till we meet. It is enough 307:302,19[N ]| to know they are discovered, I have seen them both ~~" 307:302,20[E ]| "Then it is, as I always hoped," 307:302,20[' ]| cried Jane; 307:302,20[E ]| "they 307:302,21[E ]| are married!" 307:302,22[' ]| Elizabeth read on; 307:302,22[N ]| "I have seen them both. They 307:302,23[N ]| are not married, nor can I find there was any intention 307:302,24[N ]| of being so; but if you are willing to perform the engagements 307:302,25[N ]| which I have ventured to make on your side, I hope 307:302,26[N ]| it will not be long before they are. All that is required 307:302,27[N ]| of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her 307:302,28[N ]| equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among 307:302,29[N ]| your children after the decease of yourself and my sister; 307:302,30[N ]| and, moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing 307:302,31[N ]| her, during your life, one hundred pounds per*annum. 307:302,32[N ]| These are conditions, which, considering every*thing, I had 307:302,33[N ]| no hesitation in complying with, as far as I thought 307:302,34[N ]| myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by express, 307:302,35[N ]| that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. 307:302,36[N ]| You will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that 307:302,37[N ]| Mr%*Wickham's circumstances are not so hopeless as they 307:302,38[N ]| are generally believed to be. The world has been deceived 307:303,01[N ]| in that respect; and I am happy to say, there will be 307:303,02[N ]| some little money, even when all his debts are discharged, 307:303,03[N ]| to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. 307:303,04[N ]| If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers 307:303,05[N ]| to act in your name, throughout the whole of this business, 307:303,06[N ]| I will immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing 307:303,07[N ]| a proper settlement. There will not be the smallest 307:303,08[N ]| occasion for your coming to town again; therefore, stay 307:303,09[N ]| quietly at Longbourn, and depend on my diligence and care. 307:303,10[N ]| Send back your answer as soon as you can, and be careful 307:303,11[N ]| to write explicitly. We have judged it best, that my niece 307:303,12[N ]| should be married from this house, of which I hope you 307:303,13[N ]| will approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again 307:303,14[N ]| as soon as any*thing more is determined on. Your's, &c% 307:303,15[N ]| "EDW%*GARDINER." 307:303,16[N ]| 307:303,17[A ]| "Is it possible!" 307:303,17[' ]| cried Elizabeth, when she had 307:303,18[' ]| finished. 307:303,18[A ]| "Can it be possible that he will marry her?" 307:303,19[E ]| "Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have 307:303,20[E ]| thought him;" 307:303,20[' ]| said her sister. 307:303,20[E ]| "My dear father, I congratulate 307:303,21[E ]| you." 307:303,22[A ]| "And have you answered the letter?" 307:303,22[' ]| said Elizabeth. 307:303,23[C ]| "No; but it must be done soon." 307:303,24[C ]| Most earnestly did she then intreat him to lose no more 307:303,25[C ]| time before he wrote. 307:303,26[A ]| "Oh! my dear father," 307:303,26[' ]| she cried, 307:303,26[A ]| "come back, and 307:303,27[A ]| write immediately. Consider how important every 307:303,28[A ]| moment is, in such a case." 307:303,29[E ]| "Let me write for you," 307:303,29[' ]| said Jane, 307:303,29[E ]| "if you dislike the 307:303,30[E ]| trouble yourself." 307:303,31[C ]| "I dislike it very much," 307:303,31[' ]| he replied; 307:303,31[C ]| "but it must 307:303,32[C ]| be done." 307:303,33[' ]| And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked 307:303,34[' ]| towards the house. 307:303,35[A ]| "And may I ask?" 307:303,35[' ]| said Elizabeth, 307:303,35[A ]| "but the terms, 307:303,36[A ]| I suppose, must be complied with." 307:303,37[C ]| "Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so 307:303,38[C ]| little." 307:304,01[A ]| "And they \must\ marry! Yet he is \such\ a man!" 307:304,02[C ]| "Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to 307:304,03[C ]| be done. But there are two things that I want very much 307:304,04[C ]| to know: ~~ one is, how much money your uncle has laid 307:304,05[C ]| down, to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever 307:304,06[C ]| to pay him." 307:304,07[E ]| "Money! my uncle!" 307:304,07[' ]| cried Jane, 307:304,07[E ]| "what do you 307:304,08[E ]| mean, Sir?" 307:304,09[C ]| "I mean, that no man in his senses, would marry Lydia 307:304,10[C ]| on so slight a temptation as one hundred a-year during 307:304,11[C ]| my life, and fifty after I am gone." 307:304,12[A ]| "That is very true," 307:304,12[' ]| said Elizabeth; 307:304,12[A ]| "though it had 307:304,13[A ]| not occurred to me before. His debts to be discharged, 307:304,14[A ]| and something still to remain! Oh! it must be my 307:304,15[A ]| uncle's doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has 307:304,16[A ]| distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this." 307:304,17[C ]| "No," 307:304,17[' ]| said her father, 307:304,17[C ]| "Wickham's a fool, if he 307:304,18[C ]| takes her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds. 307:304,19[C ]| I should be sorry to think so ill of him, in the very beginning 307:304,20[C ]| of our relationship." 307:304,21[A ]| "Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half 307:304,22[A ]| such a sum to be repaid?" 307:304,23[' ]| Mr%*Bennet made no answer, and each of them, deep 307:304,24[' ]| in thought, continued silent till they reached the house. 307:304,25[' ]| Their father then went to the library to write, and the 307:304,26[' ]| girls walked into the breakfast-room. 307:304,27[A ]| "And they are really to be married!" 307:304,27[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 307:304,28[' ]| as soon as they were by themselves. 307:304,28[A ]| "How strange this 307:304,29[A ]| is! And for \this\ we are to be thankful. That they should 307:304,30[A ]| marry, small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched 307:304,31[A ]| as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!" 307:304,32[E ]| "I comfort myself with thinking," 307:304,32[' ]| replied Jane, 307:304,32[E ]| "that 307:304,33[E ]| he certainly would not marry Lydia, if he had not a real 307:304,34[E ]| regard for her. Though our kind uncle has done something 307:304,35[E ]| towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten thousand 307:304,36[E ]| pounds, or any*thing like it, has been advanced. He has 307:304,37[E ]| children of his own, and may have more. How could he 307:304,38[E ]| spare half ten thousand pounds?" 307:305,01[A ]| "If we are ever able to learn what Wickham's debts 307:305,02[A ]| have been," 307:305,02[' ]| said Elizabeth, 307:305,02[A ]| "and how much is settled on his 307:305,03[A ]| side on our sister, we shall exactly know what Mr%*Gardiner 307:305,04[A ]| has done for them, because Wickham has not sixpence 307:305,05[A ]| of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never 307:305,06[A ]| be requited. Their taking her home, and affording her 307:305,07[A ]| their personal protection and countenance, is such a 307:305,08[A ]| sacrifice to her advantage, as years of gratitude cannot 307:305,09[A ]| enough acknowledge. By this time she is actually with 307:305,10[A ]| them! If such goodness does not make her miserable 307:305,11[A ]| now, she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting 307:305,12[A ]| for her, when she first sees my aunt!" 307:305,13[E ]| "We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on 307:305,14[E ]| either side," 307:305,14[' ]| said Jane: 307:305,14[E ]| "I hope and trust they will yet 307:305,15[E ]| be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will 307:305,16[E ]| believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their 307:305,17[E ]| mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself 307:305,18[E ]| they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, 307:305,19[E ]| as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten." 307:305,20[A ]| "Their conduct has been such," 307:305,20[' ]| replied Elizabeth, 307:305,20[A ]| "as 307:305,21[A ]| neither you, nor I, nor any*body, can ever forget. It is 307:305,22[A ]| useless to talk of it." 307:305,23[' ]| It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in 307:305,24[' ]| all likelihood perfectly ignorant of what had happened. 307:305,25[' ]| They went to the library, therefore, and asked their father, 307:305,26[' ]| whether he would not wish them to make it known to 307:305,27[' ]| her. He was writing, and, without raising his head, coolly 307:305,28[' ]| replied, 307:305,29[C ]| "Just as you please." 307:305,30[A ]| "May we take my uncle's letter to read to her?" 307:305,31[C ]| "Take whatever you like, and get away." 307:305,32[' ]| Elizabeth took the letter from his writing*table, and 307:305,33[' ]| they went up*stairs together. Mary and Kitty were both 307:305,34[' ]| with Mrs%*Bennet: one communication would, therefore, 307:305,35[' ]| do for all. After a slight preparation for good news, the 307:305,36[' ]| letter was read aloud. Mrs%*Bennet could hardly contain 307:305,37[' ]| herself. As soon as Jane had read Mr%*Gardiner's hope 307:305,38[' ]| of Lydia's being soon married, her joy burst forth, and 307:306,01[' ]| every following sentence added to its exuberance. She 307:306,02[' ]| was now in an irritation as violent from delight, as she 307:306,03[' ]| had ever been fidgetty from alarm and vexation. To know 307:306,04[' ]| that her daughter would be married was enough. She 307:306,05[' ]| was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor humbled 307:306,06[' ]| by any remembrance of her misconduct. 307:306,07[D ]| "My dear, dear Lydia!" 307:306,07[' ]| she cried: 307:306,07[D ]| "This is delightful 307:306,08[D ]| indeed! ~~ She will be married! ~~ I shall see her again! ~~ 307:306,09[D ]| She will be married at sixteen! ~~ My good, kind brother! ~~ 307:306,10[D ]| I knew how it would be ~~ I knew he would manage every*thing. 307:306,11[D ]| How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham 307:306,12[D ]| too! But the clothes, the wedding*clothes! I will write 307:306,13[D ]| to my sister Gardiner about them directly. Lizzy, my 307:306,14[D ]| dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much 307:306,15[D ]| he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the 307:306,16[D ]| bell, Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. 307:306,17[D ]| My dear, dear Lydia! ~~ How merry we shall be together 307:306,18[D ]| when we meet!" 307:306,19[' ]| Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to 307:306,20[' ]| the violence of these transports, by leading her thoughts 307:306,21[' ]| to the obligations which Mr%*Gardiner's behaviour laid 307:306,22[' ]| them all under. 307:306,23[E ]| "For we must attribute this happy conclusion," 307:306,23[' ]| she 307:306,24[' ]| added, 307:306,24[E ]| "in a great measure, to his kindness. We are 307:306,25[E ]| persuaded that he has pledged himself to assist Mr%*Wickham 307:306,26[E ]| with money." 307:306,27[D ]| "Well," 307:306,27[' ]| cried her mother, 307:306,27[D ]| "it is all very right; who 307:306,28[D ]| should do it but her own uncle? If he had not had 307:306,29[D ]| a family of his own, I and my children must have had all 307:306,30[D ]| his money you know, and it is the first time we have ever 307:306,31[D ]| had any*thing from him, except a few presents. Well! 307:306,32[D ]| I am so happy. In a short time, I shall have a daughter 307:306,33[D ]| married. Mrs%*Wickham! How well it sounds. And she 307:306,34[D ]| was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in such 307:306,35[D ]| a flutter, that I am sure I can't write; so I will dictate, 307:306,36[D ]| and you write for me. We will settle with your father 307:306,37[D ]| about the money afterwards; but the things should be 307:306,38[D ]| ordered immediately." 307:307,01[' ]| She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, 307:307,02[' ]| muslin, and cambric, and would shortly have dictated 307:307,03[' ]| some very plentiful orders, had not Jane, though with 307:307,04[' ]| some difficulty, persuaded her to wait, till her father was 307:307,05[' ]| at leisure to be consulted. One day's delay she observed, 307:307,06[' ]| would be of small importance; and her mother was too 307:307,07[' ]| happy, to be quite so obstinate as usual. Other schemes 307:307,08[' ]| too came into her head. 307:307,09[D ]| "I will go to Meryton," 307:307,09[' ]| said she, 307:307,09[D ]| "as soon as I am 307:307,10[D ]| dressed, and tell the good, good news to my sister Phillips. 307:307,11[D ]| And as I come back, I can call on Lady*Lucas and Mrs%*Long. 307:307,12[D ]| Kitty, run down and order the carriage. An 307:307,13[D ]| airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, 307:307,14[D ]| can I do any*thing for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes 307:307,15[D ]| Hill. My dear Hill, have you heard the good news? Miss*Lydia 307:307,16[D ]| is going to be married; and you shall all have a 307:307,17[D ]| bowl of punch, to make merry at her wedding." 307:307,18[' ]| Mrs%*Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth 307:307,19[' ]| received her congratulations amongst the rest, and then, 307:307,20[' ]| sick of this folly, took refuge in her own room, that she 307:307,21[' ]| might think with freedom. 307:307,22@a | Poor Lydia's situation must, at best, be bad enough; 307:307,23@a | but that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful. 307:307,24[' ]| She felt it so; and though, in looking forward, neither 307:307,25[' ]| rational happiness nor worldly prosperity, could be justly 307:307,26[' ]| expected for her sister; in looking back to what they 307:307,27[' ]| had feared, only two hours ago, she felt all the advantages 307:307,28[' ]| of what they had gained. 308:308,01[' ]| Mr%*Bennet had very often wished, before this period 308:308,02[' ]| of his life, that, instead of spending his whole income, he 308:308,03[' ]| had laid by an annual sum, for the better provision of 308:308,04[' ]| his children, and of his wife, if she survived him. He now 308:308,05[' ]| wished it more than ever. 308:308,05@c | Had he done his duty in that 308:308,06@c | respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle, 308:308,07@c | for whatever of honour or credit could now be purchased 308:308,08@c | for her. The satisfaction of prevailing on one of the most 308:308,09@c | worthless young men in Great*Britain to be her husband, 308:308,10@c | might then have rested in its proper place. 308:308,11[' ]| He was seriously concerned, that a cause of so little 308:308,12[' ]| advantage to any*one, should be forwarded at the sole 308:308,13[' ]| expence of his brother-in-law, and he was determined, 308:308,14[' ]| if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance, and to 308:308,15[' ]| discharge the obligation as soon as he could. 308:308,16[' ]| When first Mr%*Bennet had married, economy was held 308:308,17[' ]| to be perfectly useless; for, of course, they were to have 308:308,18[' ]| a son. This son was to join in cutting off the entail, as 308:308,19[' ]| soon as he should be of age, and the widow and younger 308:308,20[' ]| children would by that means be provided for. Five 308:308,21[' ]| daughters successively entered the world, but yet the son 308:308,22[' ]| was to come; and Mrs%*Bennet, for many years after 308:308,23[' ]| Lydia's birth, had been certain that he would. This event 308:308,24[' ]| had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to 308:308,25[' ]| be saving. Mrs%*Bennet had no turn for economy, and her 308:308,26[' ]| husband's love of independence had alone prevented their 308:308,27[' ]| exceeding their income. 308:308,28[' ]| Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles 308:308,29[' ]| on Mrs%*Bennet and the children. But in what proportions 308:308,30[' ]| it should be divided amongst the latter, depended 308:308,31[' ]| on the will of the parents. This was one point, with 308:308,32[' ]| regard to Lydia at least, which was now to be settled, 308:308,33[' ]| and Mr%*Bennet could have no hesitation in acceding to 308:309,01[' ]| the proposal before him. In terms of grateful acknowledgment 308:309,02[' ]| for the kindness of his brother, though expressed 308:309,03[' ]| most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect 308:309,04[' ]| approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to 308:309,05[' ]| fulfil the engagements that had been made for him. He 308:309,06[' ]| had never before supposed that, could Wickham be prevailed 308:309,07[' ]| on to marry his daughter, it would be done with 308:309,08[' ]| so little inconvenience to himself, as by the present 308:309,09[' ]| arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a-year 308:309,10[' ]| the loser, by the hundred that was to be paid them; 308:309,11[' ]| for, what with her board and pocket allowance, and the 308:309,12[' ]| continual presents in money, which passed to her, through 308:309,13[' ]| her mother's hands, Lydia's expences had been very little 308:309,14[' ]| within that sum. 308:309,15[' ]| That it would be done with such trifling exertion on 308:309,16[' ]| his side, too, was another very welcome surprise; for his 308:309,17[' ]| chief wish at present, was to have as little trouble in the 308:309,18[' ]| business as possible. When the first transports of rage 308:309,19[' ]| which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, 308:309,20[' ]| he naturally returned to all his former indolence. His 308:309,21[' ]| letter was soon dispatched; for though dilatory in undertaking 308:309,22[' ]| business, he was quick in its execution. He begged 308:309,23[' ]| to know farther particulars of what he was indebted to 308:309,24[' ]| his brother; but was too angry with Lydia, to send any 308:309,25[' ]| message to her. 308:309,26[' ]| The good news quickly spread through the house; and 308:309,27[' ]| with proportionate speed through the neighbourhood. It 308:309,28[' ]| was borne in the latter with decent philosophy. To be 308:309,29[' ]| sure it would have been more for the advantage of conversation, 308:309,30[' ]| had Miss*Lydia*Bennet come upon the town; 308:309,31[' ]| or, as the happiest alternative, been secluded from the 308:309,32[' ]| world, in some distant farm house. But there was much 308:309,33[' ]| to be talked of, in marrying her; and the good-natured 308:309,34[' ]| wishes of her well-doing, which had proceeded before, 308:309,35[' ]| from all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but 308:309,36[' ]| little of their spirit in this change of circumstances, 308:309,37[' ]| because with such an husband, her misery was considered 308:309,38[' ]| certain. 308:310,01[' ]| It was a fortnight since Mrs%*Bennet had been down*stairs, 308:310,02[' ]| but on this happy day, she again took her seat at 308:310,03[' ]| the head of her table, and in spirits oppressively high. 308:310,04[' ]| No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her triumph. 308:310,05[' ]| The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first 308:310,06[' ]| object of her wishes, since Jane was sixteen, was now on 308:310,07[' ]| the point of accomplishment, and her thoughts and her 308:310,08[' ]| words ran wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials, 308:310,09[' ]| fine muslins, new carriages, and servants. She was busily 308,310,10[' ]| searching through the neighbourhood for a proper situation 308:310,11[' ]| for her daughter, and, without knowing or considering 308:310,12[' ]| what their income might be, rejected many as deficient 308:310,13[' ]| in size and importance. 308:310,14[D ]| "Haye-Park might do," 308:310,14[' ]| said she, 308:310,14[D ]| "if the Gouldings 308:310,15[D ]| would quit it, or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room 308:310,16[D ]| were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could 308:310,17[D ]| not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis*Lodge, 308:310,18[D ]| the attics are dreadful." 308:310,19[' ]| Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption, 308:310,20[' ]| while the servants remained. But when they had 308:310,21[' ]| withdrawn, he said to her, 308:310,21[C ]| "Mrs%*Bennet, before you take 308:310,22[C ]| any, or all of these houses, for your son and daughter, 308:310,23[C ]| let us come to a right understanding. Into \one\ house in 308:310,24[C ]| this neighbourhood, they shall never have admittance. 308:310,25[C ]| I will not encourage the impudence of either, by receiving 308:310,26[C ]| them at Longbourn." 308:310,27[' ]| A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr%*Bennet 308:310,28[' ]| was firm: it soon led to another; and Mrs%*Bennet 308:310,29[' ]| found, with amazement and horror, that her 308:310,30[' ]| husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for 308:310,31[' ]| his daughter. He protested that she should receive from 308:310,32[' ]| him no mark of affection whatever, on the occasion. 308:310,33[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet could hardly comprehend it. That his anger 308:310,34[' ]| could be carried to such a point of inconceivable resentment, 308:310,35[' ]| as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without which 308:310,36[' ]| her marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all that 308:310,37[' ]| she could believe possible. She was more alive to the 308:310,38[' ]| disgrace, which the want of new clothes must reflect on 308:311,01[' ]| her daughter's nuptials, than to any sense of shame at 308:311,02[' ]| her eloping and living with Wickham, a fortnight before 308:311,03[' ]| they took place. 308:311,04[' ]| Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, 308:311,05[' ]| from the distress of the moment, been led to make Mr%*Darcy 308:311,06[' ]| acquainted with their fears for her sister; for 308:311,07[' ]| since her marriage would so shortly give the proper 308:311,08[' ]| termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal 308:311,09[' ]| its unfavourable beginning, from all those who were not 308:311,10[' ]| immediately on the spot. 308:311,11[' ]| She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his 308:311,12[' ]| means. There were few people on whose secrecy she 308:311,13[' ]| would have more confidently depended; but at the same 308:311,14[' ]| time, there was no*one, whose knowledge of a sister's 308:311,15[' ]| frailty would have mortified her so much. Not, however, 308:311,16[' ]| from any fear of disadvantage from it, individually to 308:311,17[' ]| herself; for at any rate, there seemed a gulf impassable 308:311,18[' ]| between them. Had Lydia's marriage been concluded on 308:311,19[' ]| the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed 308:311,20[' ]| that Mr%*Darcy would connect himself with a family, 308:311,21[' ]| where to every other objection would now be added, an 308:311,22[' ]| alliance and relationship of the nearest kind with the 308:311,23[' ]| man whom he so justly scorned. 308:311,24[' ]| From such a connection she could not wonder that he 308:311,25[' ]| should shrink. The wish of procuring her regard, which 308:311,26[' ]| she had assured herself of his feeling in Derbyshire, could 308:311,27[' ]| not in rational expectation survive such a blow as this. 308:311,28[' ]| She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though 308:311,29[' ]| she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his 308:311,30[' ]| esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited 308:311,31[' ]| by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed 308:311,32[' ]| the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced 308:311,33[' ]| that she could have been happy with him; when it was 308:311,34[' ]| no longer likely they should meet. 308:311,35@a | What a triumph for him, 308:311,35[' ]| as she often thought, 308:311,35@a | could 308:311,36@a | he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned 308:311,37@a | only four months ago, would now have been gladly and 308:311,38@a | gratefully received! He was as generous, 308:311,38[' ]| she doubted not, 308:312,01@a | as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal, 308:312,02@a | there must be a triumph. 308:312,03[' ]| She began now to comprehend that 308:312,03@a | he was exactly the 308:312,04@a | man, who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. 308:312,05@a | His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, 308:312,06@a | would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that 308:312,07@a | must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease 308:312,08@a | and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his 308:312,09@a | manners improved, and from his judgment, information, 308:312,10@a | and knowledge of the world, she must have received 308:312,11@a | benefit of greater importance. 308:312,12@a | But no such happy marriage could now teach the 308:312,13@a | admiring multitude what connubial felicity really was. 308:312,14@a | An union of a different tendency, and precluding the possibility 308:312,15@a | of the other, was soon to be formed in their family. 308:312,16@a | How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in 308:312,17@a | tolerable independence, she could not imagine. But how 308:312,18@a | little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple 308:312,19@a | who were only brought together because their passions 308:312,20@a | were stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture. 308:312,21[' ]| ~~~ 308:312,22[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To 308:312,23[' ]| Mr%*Bennet's acknowledgments he briefly replied, with 308:312,24[' ]| assurances of his eagerness to promote the welfare of any 308:312,25[' ]| of his family; and concluded with intreaties that the 308:312,26[' ]| subject might never be mentioned to him again. The 308:312,27[' ]| principal purport of his letter was to inform them, that 308:312,28[' ]| Mr%*Wickham had resolved on quitting the Militia. 308:312,29[N ]| "It was greatly my wish that he should do so," 308:312,29[' ]| he 308:312,30[' ]| added, 308:312,30[N ]| "as soon as his marriage was fixed on. And 308:312,31[N ]| I think you will agree with me, in considering a removal 308:312,32[N ]| from that corps as highly advisable, both on his account 308:312,33[N ]| and my niece's. It is Mr%*Wickham's intention to go into 308:312,34[N ]| the regulars; and, among his former friends, there are 308:312,35[N ]| still some who are able and willing to assist him in the 308:312,36[N ]| army. He has the promise of an ensigncy in General*****'s 308:312,37[N ]| regiment, now quartered in the North. It is an 308:313,01[N ]| advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. 308:313,02[N ]| He promises fairly, and I hope among different people, 308:313,03[N ]| where they may each have a character to preserve, they 308:313,04[N ]| will both be more prudent. I have written to Colonel*Forster, 308:313,05[N ]| to inform him of our present arrangements, and 308:313,06[N ]| to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of 308:313,07[N ]| Mr%*Wickham in and near Brighton, with assurances of 308:313,08[N ]| speedy payment, for which I have pledged myself. And 308:313,09[N ]| will you give yourself the trouble of carrying similar 308:313,10[N ]| assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall 308:313,11[N ]| subjoin a list, according to his information. He has 308:313,12[N ]| given in all his debts; I hope at least he has not deceived 308:313,13[N ]| us. Haggerston has our directions, and all will be completed 308:313,14[N ]| in a week. They will then join his regiment, unless 308:313,15[N ]| they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand 308:313,16[N ]| from Mrs%*Gardiner, that my niece is very desirous of 308:313,17[N ]| seeing you all, before she leaves the South. She is well, 308:313,18[N ]| and begs to be dutifully remembered to you and her 308:313,19[N ]| mother. ~~ Your's, &c% 308:313,20[N ]| "E%*GARDINER." 308:313,22[' ]| Mr%*Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages 308:313,23[' ]| of Wickham's removal from the *****shire, as clearly as 308:313,24[' ]| Mr%*Gardiner could do. But Mrs%*Bennet, was not so well 308:313,25[' ]| pleased with it. 308:313,25@d | Lydia's being settled in the North, just 308:313,26@d | when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her 308:313,27@d | company, 308:313,27[' ]| for she had by no means given up her plan of 308:313,28[' ]| their residing in Hertfordshire, 308:313,28@d | was a severe disappointment; 308:313,29@d | and besides, it was such a pity that Lydia should 308:313,30@d | be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted with 308:313,31@d | every*body, and had so many favourites. 308:313,32[D ]| "She is so fond of Mrs%*Forster," 308:313,32[' ]| said she, 308:313,32[D ]| "it will be 308:313,33[D ]| quite shocking to send her away! And there are several 308:313,34[D ]| of the young men, too, that she likes very much. The 308:313,35[D ]| officers may not be so pleasant in General*****'s 308:313,36[D ]| regiment." 308:313,37[' ]| His daughter's request, for such it might be considered, 308:313,38[' ]| of being admitted into her family again, before she set 308:314,01[' ]| off for the North, received at first an absolute negative. 308:314,02[' ]| But Jane and Elizabeth, who agreed in wishing, for the 308:314,03[' ]| sake of their sister's feelings and consequence, that she 308:314,04[' ]| should be noticed on her marriage by her parents, urged 308:314,05[' ]| him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive 308:314,06[' ]| her and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were 308:314,07[' ]| married, that he was prevailed on to think as they thought, 308:314,08[' ]| and act as they wished. And their mother had the satisfaction 308:314,09[' ]| of knowing, that she should be able to shew her 308:314,10[' ]| married daughter in the neighbourhood, before she was 308:314,11[' ]| banished to the North. When Mr%*Bennet wrote again 308:314,12[' ]| to his brother, therefore, he sent his permission for them 308:314,13[' ]| to come; and it was settled, that as soon as the ceremony 308:314,14[' ]| was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth 308:314,15[' ]| was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to 308:314,16[' ]| such a scheme, and, had she consulted only her own inclination, 308:314,17[' ]| any meeting with him would have been the last 308:314,18[' ]| object of her wishes. 309:315,01[' ]| Their sister's wedding day arrived; and Jane and 309:315,02[' ]| Elizabeth felt for her probably more than she felt for 309:315,03[' ]| herself. The carriage was sent to meet them at ****, 309:315,04[' ]| and they were to return in it, by dinner-time. Their 309:315,05[' ]| arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss*Bennets; and Jane 309:315,06[' ]| more especially, who gave Lydia the feelings which would 309:315,07[' ]| have attended herself, had \she\ been the culprit, was 309:315,08[' ]| wretched in the thought of what her sister must endure. 309:315,09[' ]| They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast*room, 309:315,10[' ]| to receive them. Smiles decked the face of 309:315,11[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, as the carriage drove up to the door; her 309:315,12[' ]| husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, 309:315,13[' ]| alarmed, anxious, uneasy. 309:315,14[' ]| Lydia's voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was 309:315,15[' ]| thrown open, and she ran into the room. Her mother 309:315,16[' ]| stepped forwards, embraced her, and welcomed her with 309:315,17[' ]| rapture; gave her hand with an affectionate smile to 309:315,18[' ]| Wickham, who followed his lady, and wished them both 309:315,19[' ]| joy, with an alacrity which shewed no doubt of their 309:315,20[' ]| happiness. 309:315,21[' ]| Their reception from Mr%*Bennet, to whom they then 309:315,22[' ]| turned, was not quite so cordial. His countenance rather 309:315,23[' ]| gained in austerity; and he scarcely opened his lips. 309:315,24[' ]| The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was 309:315,25[' ]| enough to provoke him. Elizabeth was disgusted, and 309:315,26[' ]| even Miss*Bennet was shocked. Lydia was Lydia still; 309:315,27[' ]| untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned 309:315,28[' ]| from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations, and 309:315,29[' ]| when at length they all sat down, looked eagerly round 309:315,30[' ]| the room, took notice of some little alteration in it, and 309:315,31[' ]| observed, with a laugh, 309:315,31@h | that it was a great while since 309:315,32@h | she had been there. 309:315,33[' ]| Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself, 309:316,01[' ]| but his manners were always so pleasing, that had his 309:316,02[' ]| character and his marriage been exactly what they ought, 309:316,03[' ]| his smiles and his easy address, while he claimed their 309:316,04[' ]| relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth 309:316,05[' ]| had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; 309:316,06[' ]| but she sat down, resolving within herself, to draw no 309:316,07[' ]| limits in future to the impudence of an impudent man. 309:316,08[' ]| \She\ blushed, and Jane blushed; but the cheeks of the 309:316,09[' ]| two who caused their confusion, suffered no variation of 309:316,10[' ]| colour. 309:316,11[' ]| There was no want of discourse. The bride and her 309:316,12[' ]| mother could neither of them talk fast enough; and 309:316,13[' ]| Wickham, who happened to sit near Elizabeth, began 309:316,14[' ]| enquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood, 309:316,15[' ]| with a good*humoured ease, which she felt very unable 309:316,16[' ]| to equal in replies. They seemed each of them to have 309:316,17[' ]| the happiest memories in the world. Nothing of the past 309:316,18[' ]| was recollected with pain; and Lydia led voluntarily to 309:316,19[' ]| subjects, which her sisters would not have alluded to for 309:316,20[' ]| the world. 309:316,21[H ]| "Only think of its being three months," 309:316,21[' ]| she cried, 309:316,22[H ]| "since I went away; it seems but a fortnight I declare; 309:316,23[H ]| and yet there have been things enough happened in the 309:316,24[H ]| time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure 309:316,25[H ]| I had no more idea of being married till I came back 309:316,26[H ]| again! though I thought it would be very good fun if 309:316,27[H ]| I was." 309:316,28[' ]| Her father lifted up his eyes. Jane was distressed. 309:316,29[' ]| Elizabeth looked expressively at Lydia; but she, who 309:316,30[' ]| never heard nor saw any*thing of which she chose to be 309:316,31[' ]| insensible, gaily continued, 309:316,31[H ]| "Oh! mamma, do the people 309:316,32[H ]| here*abouts know I am married to-day? I was afraid 309:316,33[H ]| they might not; and we overtook William*Goulding in 309:316,34[H ]| his curricle, so I was determined he should know it, and 309:316,35[H ]| so I let down the side glass next to him, and took off my 309:316,36[H ]| glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, 309:316,37[H ]| so that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and 309:316,38[H ]| smiled like any*thing." 309:317,01[' ]| Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up, and ran 309:317,02[' ]| out of the room; and returned no more, till she heard 309:317,03[' ]| them passing through the hall to the dining*parlour. 309:317,04[' ]| She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with 309:317,05[' ]| anxious parade, walk up to her mother's right hand, and 309:317,06[' ]| hear her say to her eldest sister, 309:317,06[H ]| "Ah! Jane, I take 309:317,07[H ]| your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a 309:317,08[H ]| married woman." 309:317,09[' ]| It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia 309:317,10[' ]| that embarrassment, from which she had been so wholly 309:317,11[' ]| free at first. Her ease and good spirits increased. She 309:317,12[' ]| longed to see Mrs%*Phillips, the Lucasses, and all their 309:317,13[' ]| other neighbours, and to hear herself called "Mrs%*Wickham," 309:317,14[' ]| by each of them; and in the mean*time, she went 309:317,15[' ]| after dinner to shew her ring and boast of being married, 309:317,16[' ]| to Mrs%*Hill and the two housemaids. 309:317,17[H ]| "Well, mamma," 309:317,17[' ]| said she, when they were all returned 309:317,18[' ]| to the breakfast*room, 309:317,18[H ]| "and what do you think of my 309:317,19[H ]| husband? Is not he a charming man? I am sure my 309:317,20[H ]| sisters must all envy me. I only hope they may have 309:317,21[H ]| half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That 309:317,22[H ]| is the place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, 309:317,23[H ]| we did not all go." 309:317,24[D ]| "Very true; and if I had my will, we should. But 309:317,25[D ]| my dear Lydia, I don't at all like your going such a way 309:317,26[D ]| off. Must it be so?" 309:317,27[H ]| "Oh, lord! yes; ~~ there is nothing in that. I shall 309:317,28[H ]| like it of all things. You and papa, and my sisters, must 309:317,29[H ]| come down and see us. We shall be at Newcastle all the 309:317,30[H ]| winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I will 309:317,31[H ]| take care to get good partners for them all." 309:317,32[D ]| "I should like it beyond any*thing!" 309:317,32[' ]| said her mother. 309:317,33[H ]| "And then when you go away, you may leave one 309:317,34[H ]| or two of my sisters behind you; and I dare say I shall 309:317,35[H ]| get husbands for them before the winter is over." 309:317,36[A ]| "I thank you for my share of the favour," 309:317,36[' ]| said Elizabeth; 309:317,37[A ]| "but I do not particularly like your way of getting 309:317,38[A ]| husbands." 309:318,01[' ]| Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with 309:318,02[' ]| them. Mr%*Wickham had received his commission before 309:318,03[' ]| he left London, and he was to join his regiment at the end 309:318,04[' ]| of a fortnight. 309:318,05[' ]| No*one but Mrs%*Bennet, regretted that their stay 309:318,06[' ]| would be so short; and she made the most of the time, 309:318,07[' ]| by visiting about with her daughter, and having very 309:318,08[' ]| frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable 309:318,09[' ]| to all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable 309:318,10[' ]| to such as did think, than such as did not. 309:318,11[' ]| Wickham's affection for Lydia, was just what Elizabeth 309:318,12[' ]| had expected to find it; not equal to Lydia's for him. 309:318,13[' ]| She had scarcely needed her present observation to be 309:318,14[' ]| satisfied, from the reason of things, that their elopement 309:318,15[' ]| had been brought on by the strength of her love, rather 309:318,16[' ]| than by his; and she would have wondered why, without 309:318,17[' ]| violently caring for her, he chose to elope with her at 309:318,18[' ]| all, had she not felt certain that his flight was rendered 309:318,19[' ]| necessary by distress of circumstances; and if that were 309:318,20[' ]| the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity 309:318,21[' ]| of having a companion. 309:318,22[' ]| Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear 309:318,23[' ]| Wickham on every occasion; no*one was to be put in 309:318,24[' ]| competition with him. He did everything best in the 309:318,25[' ]| world; and she was sure he would kill more birds on the 309:318,26[' ]| first of September, than any*body else in the country. 309:318,27[' ]| One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting 309:318,28[' ]| with her two elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth, 309:318,29[H ]| "Lizzy, I never gave \you\ an account of my wedding, 309:318,30[H ]| I believe. You were not by, when I told mamma, and the 309:318,31[H ]| others, all about it. Are not you curious to hear how it 309:318,32[H ]| was managed?" 309:318,33[A ]| "No really," 309:318,33[' ]| replied Elizabeth; 309:318,33[A ]| "I think there cannot 309:318,34[A ]| be too little said on the subject." 309:318,35[H ]| "La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how 309:318,36[H ]| it went off. We were married, you know, at St%*Clement's, 309:318,37[H ]| because Wickham's lodgings were in that parish. And 309:318,38[H ]| it was settled that we should all be there by eleven o'clock. 309:319,01[H ]| My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the 309:319,02[H ]| others were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday 309:319,03[H ]| morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid 309:319,04[H ]| you know that something would happen to put it off, and 309:319,05[H ]| then I should have gone quite distracted. And there was 309:319,06[H ]| my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and 309:319,07[H ]| talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. However, 309:319,08[H ]| I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was 309:319,09[H ]| thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed 309:319,10[H ]| to know whether he would be married in his blue coat. 309:319,11[H ]| "Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual; I 309:319,12[H ]| thought it would never be over; for, by*the*bye, you are 309:319,13[H ]| to understand, that my uncle and aunt were horrid 309:319,14[H ]| unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you'll believe 309:319,15[H ]| me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was 309:319,16[H ]| there a fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or any*thing. 309:319,17[H ]| To be sure London was rather thin, but however the 309:319,18[H ]| little Theatre was open. Well, and so just as the carriage 309:319,19[H ]| came to the door, my uncle was called away upon business 309:319,20[H ]| to that horrid man Mr%*Stone. And then, you know, 309:319,21[H ]| when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, 309:319,22[H ]| I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my 309:319,23[H ]| uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond the 309:319,24[H ]| hour, we could not be married all day. But, luckily, he 309:319,25[H ]| came back again in ten minutes time, and then we all 309:319,26[H ]| set out. However, I recollected afterwards, that if he 309:319,27[H ]| \had\ been prevented going, the wedding need not be put 309:319,28[H ]| off, for Mr%*Darcy might have done as well." 309:319,29[A ]| "Mr%*Darcy!" 309:319,39[' ]| repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement. 309:319,30[H ]| "Oh, yes! ~~ he was to come there with Wickham, you 309:319,31[H ]| know. But gracious me! I quite forgot! I ought not to 309:319,32[H ]| have said a word about it. I promised them so faithfully! 309:319,33[H ]| What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!" 309:319,34[E ]| "If it was to be secret," 309:319,34[' ]| said Jane, 309:319,34[E ]| "say not another 309:319,35[E ]| word on the subject. You may depend upon my seeking 309:319,36[E ]| no further." 309:319,37[A ]| "Oh! certainly," 309:319,37[' ]| said Elizabeth, though burning with 309:319,38[' ]| curiosity; 309:319,38[A ]| "we will ask you no questions." 309:320,01[H ]| "Thank you," 309:320,01[' ]| said Lydia, 309:320,01[H ]| "for if you did, I should 309:320,02[H ]| certainly tell you all, and then Wickham would be 309:320,03[H ]| angry." 309:320,04[' ]| On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced 309:320,05[' ]| to put it out of her power, by running away. 309:320,06@a | But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; 309:320,07@a | or at least it was impossible not to try for information. 309:320,08@a | Mr%*Darcy had been at her sister's wedding. It was 309:320,09@a | exactly a scene, and exactly among people, where he had 309:320,10@a | apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. 309:320,10[' ]| Conjectures 309:320,11[' ]| as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried 309:320,12[' ]| into her brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those 309:320,13[' ]| that best pleased her, as placing his conduct in the noblest 309:320,14[' ]| light, seemed most improbable. She could not bear such 309:320,15[' ]| suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, wrote 309:320,16[' ]| a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of 309:320,17[' ]| what Lydia had dropt, if it were compatible with the 309:320,18[' ]| secrecy which had been intended. 309:320,19[A ]| "You may readily comprehend," 309:320,19[' ]| she added, 309:320,19[A ]| "what my 309:320,20[A ]| curiosity must be to know how a person so unconnected with 309:320,21[A ]| any of us, and (comparatively speaking) a stranger to our 309:320,22[A ]| family, should have been amongst you at such a time. 309:320,23[A ]| Pray write instantly, and let me understand it ~~ unless it 309:320,24[A ]| is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which 309:320,25[A ]| Lydia seems to think necessary; and then I must endeavour 309:320,26[A ]| to be satisfied with ignorance." 309:320,27@a | "Not that I \shall\ though," 309:320,27[' ]| she added to herself, as 309:320,28[' ]| she finished the letter; 309:320,28@a | "and my dear aunt, if you do 309:320,29@a | not tell me in an honourable manner, I shall certainly 309:320,30@a | be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out." 309:320,31[' ]| Jane's delicate sense of honour would not allow her to 309:320,32[' ]| speak to Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; 309:320,33[' ]| Elizabeth was glad of it; ~~ till it appeared whether her 309:320,34[' ]| inquiries would receive any satisfaction, she had rather 309:320,35[' ]| be without a confidante. 310:321,01[' ]| Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer 310:321,02[' ]| to her letter, as soon as she possibly could. She was no 310:321,03[' ]| sooner in possession of it, than hurrying into the little 310:321,04[' ]| copse, where she was least likely to be interrupted, she 310:321,05[' ]| sat down on one of the benches, and prepared to be happy; 310:321,06[' ]| for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not 310:321,07[' ]| contain a denial. 310:321,08[' ]| 310:321,09[O ]| "Gracechurch-street, Sept%*6. 310:321,10[O ]| "MY DEAR NIECE, 310:321,11[O ]| "I have just received your letter, and shall devote this 310:321,12[O ]| whole morning to answering it, as I foresee that a \little\ 310:321,13[O ]| writing will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must 310:321,14[O ]| confess myself surprised by your application; I did not 310:321,15[O ]| expect it from \you\. Don't think me angry, however, for I 310:321,16[O ]| only mean to let you know, that I had not imagined such 310:321,17[O ]| enquiries to be necessary on \your\ side. If you do not 310:321,18[O ]| choose to understand me, forgive my impertinence. Your 310:321,19[O ]| uncle is as much surprised as I am ~~ and nothing but the 310:321,20[O ]| belief of your being a party concerned, would have allowed 310:321,21[O ]| him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent 310:321,22[O ]| and ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day 310:321,23[O ]| of my coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a 310:321,24[O ]| most unexpected visitor. Mr%*Darcy called, and was shut 310:321,25[O ]| up with him several hours. It was all over before I arrived; 310:321,26[O ]| so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked as \your's\ 310:321,27[O ]| seems to have been. He came to tell Mr%*Gardiner that 310:321,28[O ]| he had found out where your sister and Mr%*Wickham were, 310:321,29[O ]| and that he had seen and talked with them both, Wickham 310:321,30[O ]| repeatedly, Lydia once. From what I can collect, he left 310:321,31[O ]| Derbyshire only one day after ourselves, and came to 310:321,32[O ]| town with the resolution of hunting for them. The motive 310:321,33[O ]| professed, was his conviction of its being owing to himself 310:321,34[O ]| that Wickham's worthlessness had not been so well known, 310:322,01[O ]| as to make it impossible for any young woman of character, 310:322,02[O ]| to love or confide in him. He generously imputed the 310:322,03[O ]| whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he 310:322,04[O ]| had before thought it beneath him, to lay his private 310:322,05[O ]| actions open to the world. His character was to speak 310:322,06[O ]| for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step 310:322,07[O ]| forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil, which had 310:322,08[O ]| been brought on by himself. If he \had\ \another\ motive, 310:322,09[O ]| I am sure it would never disgrace him. He had 310:322,10[O ]| been some days in town, before he was able to discover 310:322,11[O ]| them; but he had something to direct his search, which 310:322,12[O ]| was more than \we\ had; and the consciousness of this, 310:322,13[O ]| was another reason for his resolving to follow us. There 310:322,14[O ]| is a lady, it seems, a Mrs%*Younge, who was some 310:322,15[O ]| time ago governess to Miss*Darcy, and was dismissed 310:322,16[O ]| from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though 310:322,17[O ]| he did not say what. She then took a large house in 310:322,18[O ]| Edward-street, and has since maintained herself by letting 310:322,19[O ]| lodgings. This Mrs%*Younge was, he knew, intimately 310:322,20[O ]| acquainted with Wickham; and he went to her for intelligence 310:322,21[O ]| of him, as soon as he got to town. But it was 310:322,22[O ]| two or three days before he could get from her what he 310:322,23[O ]| wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, 310:322,24[O ]| without bribery and corruption, for she really did know 310:322,25[O ]| where her friend was to be found. Wickham indeed had 310:322,26[O ]| gone to her, on their first arrival in London, and had she 310:322,27[O ]| been able to receive them into her house, they would 310:322,28[O ]| have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, 310:322,29[O ]| our kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They 310:322,30[O ]| were in *****street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards 310:322,31[O ]| insisted on seeing Lydia. His first object with her, he 310:322,32[O ]| acknowledged, had been to persuade her to quit her 310:322,33[O ]| present disgraceful situation, and return to her friends as 310:322,34[O ]| soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, offering 310:322,35[O ]| his assistance, as far as it would go. But he found Lydia 310:322,36[O ]| absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She 310:322,37[O ]| cared for none of her friends, she wanted no help of his, 310:322,38[O ]| she would not hear of leaving Wickham. She was sure 310:323,01[O ]| they should be married some*time or other, and it did 310:323,02[O ]| not much signify when. Since such were her feelings, 310:323,03[O ]| it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite 310:323,04[O ]| a marriage, which, in his very first conversation with 310:323,05[O ]| Wickham, he easily learnt, had never been \his\ design. 310:323,06[O ]| He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment, on 310:323,07[O ]| account of some debts of honour, which were very pressing; 310:323,08[O ]| and scrupled not to lay all the ill-consequences of Lydia's 310:323,09[O ]| flight, on her own folly alone. He meant to resign his 310:323,10[O ]| commission immediately; and as to his future situation, 310:323,11[O ]| he could conjecture very little about it. He must go 310:323,12[O ]| somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he 310:323,13[O ]| should have nothing to live on. Mr%*Darcy asked him 310:323,14[O ]| why he had not married your sister at once. Though 310:323,15[O ]| Mr%*Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would 310:323,16[O ]| have been able to do something for him, and his situation 310:323,17[O ]| must have been benefited by marriage. But he found, 310:323,18[O ]| in reply to this question, that Wickham still cherished 310:323,19[O ]| the hope of more effectually making his fortune by marriage, 310:323,20[O ]| in some other country. Under such circumstances, 310:323,21[O ]| however, he was not likely to be proof against the temptation 310:323,22[O ]| of immediate relief. They met several times, for 310:323,23[O ]| there was much to be discussed. Wickham of course 310:323,24[O ]| wanted more than he could get; but at length was 310:323,25[O ]| reduced to be reasonable. Every*thing being settled 310:323,26[O ]| between \them\, Mr%*Darcy's next step was to make your 310:323,27[O ]| uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch-street 310:323,28[O ]| the evening before I came home. But Mr%*Gardiner 310:323,29[O ]| could not be seen, and Mr%*Darcy found, on further enquiry, 310:323,30[O ]| that your father was still with him, but would quit town 310:232,31[O ]| the next morning. He did not judge your father to be 310:323,32[O ]| a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, 310:323,33[O ]| and therefore readily postponed seeing him, till after the 310:323,34[O ]| departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and 310:323,35[O ]| till the next day, it was only known that a gentleman had 310:323,36[O ]| called on business. On Saturday he came again. Your 310:323,37[O ]| father was gone, your uncle at home, and, as I said before, 310:323,38[O ]| they had a great deal of talk together. They met again on 310:324,01[O ]| Sunday, and then \I\ saw him too. It was not all settled 310:324,02[O ]| before Monday: as soon as it was, the express was sent 310:324,03[O ]| off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. 310:324,04[O ]| I fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his 310:324,05[O ]| character after all. He has been accused of many faults 310:324,06[O ]| at different times; but \this\ is the true one. Nothing was 310:324,07[O ]| to be done that he did not do himself; though I am 310:324,08[O ]| sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say 310:324,09[O ]| nothing about it,) your uncle would most readily have 310:324,10[O ]| settled the whole. They battled it together for a long 310:324,11[O ]| time, which was more than either the gentleman or lady 310:324,12[O ]| concerned in it deserved. But at last your uncle was 310:324,13[O ]| forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use 310:324,14[O ]| to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the 310:324,15[O ]| probable credit of it, which went sorely against the grain; 310:324,16[O ]| and I really believe your letter this morning gave him 310:324,17[O ]| great pleasure, because it required an explanation that 310:324,18[O ]| would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the 310:324,19[O ]| praise where it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no 310:324,20[O ]| farther than yourself, or Jane at most. You know pretty 310:324,21[O ]| well, I suppose, what has been done for the young people. 310:324,22[O ]| His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to considerably 310:324,23[O ]| more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in 310:324,24[O ]| addition to her own settled upon \her\, and his commission 310:324,25[O ]| purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by 310:324,26[O ]| him alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing 310:324,27[O ]| to him, to his reserve, and want of proper consideration, 310:324,28[O ]| that Wickham's character had been so misunderstood, 310:324,29[O ]| and consequently that he had been received and noticed 310:324,30[O ]| as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in \this\; though 310:324,31[O ]| I doubt whether \his\ reserve, or \anybody's\ reserve, can be 310:324,32[O ]| answerable for the event. But in spite of all this fine 310:324,33[O ]| talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured, 310:324,34[O ]| that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not 310:324,35[O ]| given him credit for \another\ \interest\ in the affair. When 310:324,36[O ]| all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, 310:324,37[O ]| who were still staying at Pemberley; but it was agreed 310:324,38[O ]| that he should be in London once more when the wedding 310:325,01[O ]| took place, and all money matters were then to receive 310:325,02[O ]| the last finish. I believe I have now told you every*thing. 310:325,03[O ]| It is a relation which you tell me is to give you 310:325,04[O ]| great surprise; I hope at least it will not afford you any 310:325,05[O ]| displeasure. Lydia came to us; and Wickham had 310:325,06[O ]| constant admission to the house. \He\ was exactly what 310:325,07[O ]| he had been, when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but 310:325,08[O ]| I would not tell you how little I was satisfied with \her\ 310:325,09[O ]| behaviour while she staid with us, if I had not perceived, 310:325,10[O ]| by Jane's letter last Wednesday, that her conduct on 310:325,11[O ]| coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore 310:325,12[O ]| what I now tell you, can give you no fresh pain. I talked 310:325,13[O ]| to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, representing to 310:325,14[O ]| her all the wickedness of what she had done, and all the 310:325,15[O ]| unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard 310:325,16[O ]| me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. 310:325,17[O ]| I was sometimes quite provoked, but then I recollected 310:325,18[O ]| my dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for their sakes had 310:325,19[O ]| patience with her. Mr%*Darcy was punctual in his return, 310:325,20[O ]| and as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He 310:325,21[O ]| dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again 310:325,22[O ]| on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with 310:325,23[O ]| me, my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying 310:325,24[O ]| (what I was never bold enough to say before) how much 310:325,25[O ]| I like him. His behaviour to us has, in every respect, been 310:325,26[O ]| as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. His understanding 310:325,27[O ]| and opinions all please me; he wants nothing 310:325,28[O ]| but a little more liveliness, and \that\, if he marry \prudently\, 310:325,29[O ]| his wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; ~~ he 310:325,30[O ]| hardly ever mentioned your name. But slyness seems the 310:325,31[O ]| fashion. Pray forgive me, if I have been very presuming, 310:325,32[O ]| or at least do not punish me so far, as to exclude me from 310:325,33[O ]| P% I shall never be quite happy till I have been all round 310:325,34[O ]| the park. A low phaeton, with a nice little pair of ponies, 310:325,35[O ]| would be the very thing. But I must write no more. 310:325,36[O ]| The children have been wanting me this half hour. Your's, 310:325,37[O ]| very sincerely, 310:325,38[O ]| "M%*GARDINER." 310:326,01[' ]| The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter 310:326,02[' ]| of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether 310:326,03[' ]| pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. The vague and 310:326,04[' ]| unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced of 310:326,05[' ]| what Mr%*Darcy might have been doing to forward her 310:326,06[' ]| sister's match, which she had feared to encourage, as an 310:326,07[' ]| exertion of goodness too great to be probable, and at the 310:326,08[' ]| same time dreaded to be just, from the pain of obligation, 310:326,09[' ]| were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true! 310:326,10@a | He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken 310:326,11@a | on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on 310:326,12@a | such a research; in which supplication had been necessary 310:326,13@a | to a woman whom he must abominate and despise, and 310:326,14@a | where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason 310:326,15@a | with, persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always 310:326,16@a | most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment 310:326,17@a | to him to pronounce. He had done all this for 310:326,18@a | a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem. 310:326,18[' ]| Her 310:326,19[' ]| heart did whisper, that he had done it for her. But it 310:326,20[' ]| was a hope shortly checked by other considerations, and 310:326,21[' ]| she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient, when 310:326,22[' ]| required to depend on his affection for her, for a woman 310:326,23[' ]| who had already refused him, as able to overcome a sentiment 310:326,24[' ]| so natural as abhorrence against relationship with 310:326,25[' ]| Wickham. 310:326,25@a | Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of 310:326,26@a | pride must revolt from the connection. He had to be sure 310:326,27@a | done much. She was ashamed to think how much. But 310:326,28@a | he had given a reason for his interference, which asked 310:326,29@a | no extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that 310:326,30@a | he should feel he had been wrong; he had liberality, and 310:326,31@a | he had the means of exercising it; and though she would 310:326,32@a | not place herself as his principal inducement, she could, 310:326,33@a | perhaps, believe, that remaining partiality for her, might 310:326,34@a | assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind 310:326,35@a | must be materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly 310:326,36@a | painful, to know that they were under obligations 310:326,37@a | to a person who could never receive a return. They owed 310:326,38@a | the restoration of Lydia, her character, every*thing to 310:327,01@a | him. 310:327,01[' ]| Oh! how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious 310:327,02[' ]| sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy 310:327,03[' ]| speech she had ever directed towards him. For herself 310:327,04[' ]| she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud that 310:327,05[' ]| in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able 310:327,06[' ]| to get the better of himself. She read over her aunt's 310:327,07[' ]| commendation of him again and again. It was hardly 310:327,08[' ]| enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible of 310:327,09[' ]| some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how 310:327,10[' ]| steadfastly both she and her uncle had been persuaded 310:327,11[' ]| that affection and confidence subsisted between Mr%*Darcy 310:327,12[' ]| and herself. 310:327,13[' ]| She was roused from her seat, and her reflections, by 310:327,14[' ]| some*one's approach; and before she could strike into 310:327,15[' ]| another path, she was overtaken by Wickham. 310:327,16[P ]| "I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear 310:327,17[P ]| sister?" 310:327,17[' ]| said he, as he joined her. 310:327,18[A ]| "You certainly do," 310:327,18[' ]| she replied with a smile; 310:327,18[A ]| "but 310:327,19[A ]| it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome." 310:327,20[A ]| 310:327,21[P ]| "I should be sorry indeed, if it were. \We\ were always 310:327,22[P ]| good friends; and now we are better." 310:327,23[A ]| "True. Are the others coming out?" 310:327,24[P ]| "I do not know. Mrs%*Bennet and Lydia are going in 310:327,25[P ]| the carriage to Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find 310:327,26[P ]| from our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen 310:327,27[P ]| Pemberley." 310:327,28[' ]| She replied in the affirmative. 310:327,29[P ]| "I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe 310:327,30[P ]| it would be too much for me, or else I could take it in my 310:327,31[P ]| way to Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, 310:327,32[P ]| I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of 310:327,33[P ]| me. But of course she did not mention my name to you." 310:327,34[A ]| "Yes, she did." 310:327,35[P ]| "And what did she say?" 310:327,36[A ]| "That you were gone into the army, and she was 310:327,37[A ]| afraid had ~~ not turned out well. At such a distance as 310:327,39[A ]| \that\, you know, things are strangely misrepresented." 310:328,01[P ]| "Certainly," 310:328,01[' ]| he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth 310:328,02[' ]| hoped she had silenced him; but he soon afterwards 310:328,03[' ]| said, 310:328,04[P ]| "I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We 310:328,05[P ]| passed each other several times. I wonder what he can 310:328,06[P ]| be doing there." 310:328,07[A ]| "Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss*de*Bourgh," 310:328,08[' ]| said Elizabeth. 310:328,08[A ]| "It must be something particular, 310:328,09[A ]| to take him there at this time of year." 310:328,10[P ]| "Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at 310:328,11[P ]| Lambton? I thought I understood from the Gardiners 310:328,12[P ]| that you had." 310:328,13[A ]| "Yes; he introduced us to his sister." 310:328,14[P ]| "And do you like her?" 310:328,15[A ]| "Very much." 310:328,16[P ]| "I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved 310:328,17[P ]| within this year or two. When I last saw her, she 310:328,18[P ]| was not very promising. I am very glad you like her. 310:328,19[P ]| I hope she will turn out well." 310:328,20[A ]| "I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying 310:328,21[A ]| age." 310:328,22[P ]| "Did you go by the village of Kympton?" 310:328,23[A ]| "I do not recollect that we did." 310:328,24[P ]| "I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to 310:328,25[P ]| have had. A most delightful place! ~~ Excellent Parsonage*House! 310:328,26[P ]| It would have suited me in every respect." 310:328,27[A ]| "How should you have liked making sermons?" 310:328,28[P ]| "Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part 310:328,29[P ]| of my duty, and the exertion would soon have been 310:328,30[P ]| nothing. One ought not to repine; ~~ but, to be sure, it 310:328,31[P ]| would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the 310:328,32[P ]| retirement of such a life, would have answered all my 310:328,33[P ]| ideas of happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever 310:328,34[P ]| hear Darcy mention the circumstance, when you were in 310:328,35[P ]| Kent?" 310:328,36[A ]| "I \have\ heard from authority, which I thought \as\ \good\, 310:328,37[A ]| that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will 310:328,38[A ]| of the present patron." 310:329,01[P ]| "You have. Yes, there was something in \that\; I told 310:329,02[P ]| you so from the first, you may remember." 310:329,03[A ]| "I \did\ hear, too, that there was a time, when sermon-making 310:329,04[A ]| was not so palatable to you as it seems to be at 310:329,05[A ]| present; that you actually declared your resolution of 310:329,06[A ]| never taking orders, and that the business had been 310:329,07[A ]| compromised accordingly." 310:329,08[P ]| "You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. 310:329,09[P ]| You may remember what I told you on that point, when 310:329,10[P ]| first we talked of it." 310:329,11[' ]| They were now almost at the door of the house, for 310:329,12[' ]| she had walked fast to get rid of him; and unwilling for 310:329,13[' ]| her sister's sake, to provoke him, she only said in reply, 310:329,14[' ]| with a good-humoured smile, 310:329,15[A ]| "Come, Mr%*Wickham, we are brother and sister, you 310:329,16[A ]| know. Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, 310:329,17[A ]| I hope we shall be always of one mind." 310:329,18[' ]| She held out her hand; he kissed it with affectionate 310:329,19[' ]| gallantry, though he hardly knew how to look, and they 310:329,20[' ]| entered the house. 311:330,01[' ]| Mr%*Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, 311:330,02[' ]| that he never again distressed himself, or 311:330,03[' ]| provoked his dear sister Elizabeth, by introducing the 311:330,04[' ]| subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she had 311:330,05[' ]| said enough to keep him quiet. 311:330,06[' ]| The day of his and Lydia's departure soon came, and 311:330,07[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet was forced to submit to a separation, which, 311:330,08[' ]| as her husband by no means entered into her scheme of 311:330,09[' ]| their all going to Newcastle, was likely to continue at 311:330,10[' ]| least a twelvemonth. 311:330,11[D ]| "Oh! my dear Lydia," 311:330,11[' ]| she cried, 311:330,11[D ]| "when shall we meet 311:330,12[D ]| again?" 311:330,13[H ]| "Oh, lord! I don't know. Not these two or three 311:330,14[H ]| years perhaps." 311:330,15[D ]| "Write to me very often, my dear." 311:330,16[H ]| "As often as I can. But you know married women 311:330,17[H ]| have never much time for writing. My sisters may write 311:330,18[H ]| to \me\. They will have nothing else to do." 311:330,19[' ]| Mr%*Wickham's adieus were much more affectionate than 311:330,20[' ]| his wife's. He smiled, looked handsome, and said many 311:330,21[' ]| pretty things. 311:330,22[C ]| "He is as fine a fellow," 311:330,22[' ]| said Mr%*Bennet, as soon as 311:330,23[' ]| they were out of the house, 311:330,23[C ]| "as ever I saw. He simpers, 311:330,24[C ]| and smirks, and makes love to us all. I am prodigiously 311:330,25[C ]| proud of him. I defy even Sir*William*Lucas himself, 311:330,26[C ]| to produce a more valuable son-in-law." 311:330,27[' ]| The loss of her daughter made Mrs%*Bennet very dull 311:330,28[' ]| for several days. 311:330,29[D ]| "I often think," 311:330,29[' ]| said she, 311:330,29[D ]| "that there is nothing so 311:330,30[D ]| bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn 311:330,31[D ]| without them." 311:330,32[A ]| "This is the consequence you see, Madam, of marrying 311:330,33[A ]| a daughter," 311:330,33[' ]| said Elizabeth. 311:330,33[A ]| "It must make you better 311:330,34[A ]| satisfied that your other four are single." 311:331,01[D ]| "It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because 311:331,02[D ]| she is married; but only because her husband's regiment 311:331,03[D ]| happens to be so far off. If that had been nearer, she 311:331,04[D ]| would not have gone so soon." 311:331,05[' ]| But the spiritless condition which this event threw her 311:331,06[' ]| into, was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to 311:331,07[' ]| the agitation of hope, by an article of news, which then 311:331,08[' ]| began to be in circulation. The housekeeper at Netherfield 311:331,09[' ]| had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her 311:331,10[' ]| master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot 311:331,11[' ]| there for several weeks. Mrs%*Bennet was quite in the 311:331,12[' ]| fidgets. She looked at Jane, and smiled, and shook her 311:331,13[' ]| head by turns. 311:331,14[D ]| "Well, well, and so Mr%*Bingley is coming down, sister," 311:331,15[' ]| (for Mrs%*Phillips first brought her the news.) 311:331,15[D ]| "Well, so 311:331,16[D ]| much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He 311:331,17[D ]| is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure \I\ never want 311:331,18[D ]| to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to 311:331,19[D ]| come to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what 311:331,20[D ]| \may\ happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, 311:331,21[D ]| sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about 311:331,22[D ]| it. And so, is it quite certain he is coming?" 311:331,23[V ]| "You may depend on it," 311:331,23[' ]| replied the other, 311:331,23[V ]| "for 311:331,24[V ]| Mrs%*Nicholls was in Meryton last night; I saw her 311:331,25[V ]| passing by, and went out myself on purpose to know the 311:331,26[V ]| truth of it; and she told me that it was certain true. 311:331,27[V ]| He comes down on Thursday at the latest, very likely 311:331,28[V ]| on Wednesday. She was going to the butcher's, she told 311:331,29[V ]| me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and 311:331,30[V ]| she has got three couple of ducks, just fit to be killed." 311:331,31[' ]| Miss*Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming, 311:331,32[' ]| without changing colour. It was many months since she 311:331,33[' ]| had mentioned his name to Elizabeth; but now, as soon 311:331,34[' ]| as they were alone together, she said, 311:331,35[E ]| "I saw you look at me to*day, Lizzy, when my aunt 311:331,36[E ]| told us of the present report; and I know I appeared 311:331,37[E ]| distressed. But don't imagine it was from any silly cause. 311:331,38[E ]| I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that 311:332,01[E ]| I \should\ be looked at. I do assure you, that the news does 311:332,02[E ]| not affect me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad 311:332,03[E ]| of one thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see 311:332,04[E ]| the less of him. Not that I am afraid of \myself\, but I dread 311:332,05[E ]| other people's remarks." 311:332,06[' ]| Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she 311:332,07[' ]| not seen him in Derbyshire, she might have supposed him 311:332,08[' ]| capable of coming there, with no other view than what 311:332,09[' ]| was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial to 311:332,10[' ]| Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of 311:332,11[' ]| his coming there \with\ his friend's permission, or being bold 311:332,12[' ]| enough to come without it. 311:332,13@a | "Yet it is hard," 311:332,13[' ]| she sometimes thought, 311:332,13@a | "that this 311:332,14@a | poor man cannot come to a house, which he has legally 311:332,15@a | hired, without raising all this speculation! I \will\ leave him 311:332,16@a | to himself." 311:332,17[' ]| In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed 311:332,18[' ]| to be her feelings, in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth 311:332,19[' ]| could easily perceive that her spirits were affected 311:332,20[' ]| by it. They were more disturbed, more unequal, than she 311:332,21[' ]| had often seen them. 311:332,22[' ]| The subject which had been so warmly canvassed 311:332,23[' ]| between their parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now 311:332,24[' ]| brought forward again. 311:332,25[D ]| "As soon as ever Mr%*Bingley comes, my dear," 311:332,25[' ]| said 311:332,26[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, 311:332,26[D ]| "you will wait on him of course." 311:332,27[C ]| "No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, 311:332,28[C ]| and promised if I went to see him, he should marry one 311:332,29[C ]| of my daughters. But it ended in nothing, and I will 311:332,30[C ]| not be sent on a fool's errand again." 311:332,31[' ]| His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary 311:332,32[' ]| such an attention would be from all the neighbouring 311:332,33[' ]| gentlemen, on his returning to Netherfield. 311:332,34[C ]| "'Tis an etiquette I despise," 311:332,34[' ]| said he. 311:332,34[C ]| "If he wants 311:332,35[C ]| our society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. 311:332,36[C ]| I will not spend \my\ hours in running after my neighbours 311:332,37[C ]| every time they go away, and come back again." 311:332,38[D ]| "Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude 311:333,01[D ]| if you do not wait on him. But, however, that shan't 311:333,02[D ]| prevent my asking him to dine here, I am determined. 311:333,03[D ]| We must have Mrs%*Long and the Gouldings soon. That 311:333,04[D ]| will make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just 311:333,05[D ]| room at the table for him." 311:333,06[' ]| Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to 311:333,07[' ]| bear her husband's incivility; though it was very mortifying 311:333,08[' ]| to know that her neighbours might all see Mr%*Bingley 311:333,09[' ]| in consequence of it, before \they\ did. As the day of his 311:333,10[' ]| arrival drew near, 311:333,11[E ]| "I begin to be sorry that he comes at all," 311:333,11[' ]| said Jane 311:333,12[' ]| to her sister. 311:333,12[E ]| "It would be nothing; I could see him 311:333,13[E ]| with perfect indifference, but I can hardly bear to hear 311:333,14[E ]| it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well; 311:333,15[E ]| but she does not know, no*one can know how much 311:333,16[E ]| I suffer from what she says. Happy shall I be, when his 311:333,17[E ]| stay at Netherfield is over!" 311:333,18[A ]| "I wish I could say any*thing to comfort you," 311:333,18[' ]| replied 311:333,19[' ]| Elizabeth; 311:333,19[A ]| "but it is wholly out of my power. You 311:333,20[A ]| must feel it; and the usual satisfaction of preaching 311:333,21[A ]| patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have 311:333,22[A ]| always so much." 311:333,23[' ]| Mr%*Bingley arrived. Mrs%*Bennet, through the assistance 311:333,24[' ]| of servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings 311:333,25[' ]| of it, that the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her 311:333,26[' ]| side, might be as long as it could. She counted the days 311:333,27[' ]| that must intervene before their invitation could be sent; 311:333,28[' ]| hopeless of seeing him before. But on the third morning 311:333,29[' ]| after his arrival in Hertfordshire, she saw him from her 311:333,30[' ]| dressing-room window, enter the paddock, and ride towards 311:333,31[' ]| the house. 311:333,32[' ]| Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. 311:333,33[' ]| Jane resolutely kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, 311:333,34[' ]| to satisfy her mother, went to the window ~~ she looked, ~~ 311:333,35[' ]| she saw Mr%*Darcy with him, and sat down again by her 311:333,36[' ]| sister. 311:333,37[G ]| "There is a gentleman with him, mamma," 311:333,37[' ]| said Kitty; 311:333,38[G ]| "who can it be?" 311:334,01[D ]| "Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; 311:334,02[D ]| I am sure I do not know." 311:334,03[G ]| "La!" 311:334,03[' ]| replied Kitty, 311:334,03[G ]| "it looks just like that man that 311:334,04[G ]| used to be with him before. Mr%*what's*his*name. That 311:334,05[G ]| tall, proud man." 311:334,06[D ]| "Good gracious! Mr%*Darcy! ~~ and so it does I vow. 311:334,07[D ]| Well, any friend of Mr%*Bingley's will always be welcome 311:334,08[D ]| here to be sure; but else I must say that I hate the very 311:334,09[D ]| sight of him." 311:334,10[' ]| Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. 311:334,11[' ]| She knew but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and 311:334,12[' ]| therefore felt for the awkwardness which must attend 311:334,13[' ]| her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time after 311:334,14[' ]| receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable 311:334,15[' ]| enough. Each felt for the other, and of course 311:334,16[' ]| for themselves; and their mother talked on, of her dislike 311:334,17[' ]| of Mr%*Darcy, and her resolution to be civil to him only 311:334,18[' ]| as Mr%*Bingley's friend, without being heard by either of 311:334,19[' ]| them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which 311:334,20[' ]| could not be suspected by Jane, to whom she had never 311:334,21[' ]| yet had courage to shew Mrs%*Gardiner's letter, or to 311:334,22[' ]| relate her own change of sentiment towards him. 311:334,22@a | To 311:334,23@a | Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had 311:334,24@a | refused, and whose merit she had undervalued; but to 311:334,25@a | her own more extensive information, he was the person, 311:334,26@a | to whom the whole family were indebted for the first of 311:334,27@a | benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an interest, 311:334,28@a | if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just, as 311:334,29@a | what Jane felt for Bingley. 311:334,29[' ]| Her astonishment at his 311:334,30[' ]| coming ~~ at his coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and 311:334,31[' ]| voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal to what 311:334,32[' ]| she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour 311:334,33[' ]| in Derbyshire. 311:334,34[' ]| The colour which had been driven from her face, returned 311:334,35[' ]| for half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile 311:334,36[' ]| of delight added lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that 311:334,37[' ]| space of time, that his affection and wishes must still be 311:334,38[' ]| unshaken. But she would not be secure. 311:335,01[A ]| "Let me first see how he behaves," 311:335,01[' ]| said she; 311:335,01[A ]| "it will 311:335,02[A ]| then be early enough for expectation." 311:335,03[' ]| She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and 311:335,04[' ]| without daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity 311:335,05[' ]| carried them to the face of her sister, as the servant was 311:335,06[' ]| approaching the door. Jane looked a little paler than 311:335,07[' ]| usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. 311:335,08[' ]| On the gentlemen's appearing, her colour increased; yet 311:335,09[' ]| she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety 311:335,10[' ]| of behaviour equally free from any symptom of 311:335,11[' ]| resentment, or any unnecessary complaisance. 311:335,12[' ]| Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, 311:335,13[' ]| and sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which 311:335,14[' ]| it did not often command. She had ventured only one 311:335,15[' ]| glance at Darcy. 311:335,15@a | He looked serious as usual; 311:335,15[' ]| and she 311:335,16[' ]| thought, 311:335,16@a | more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, 311:335,17@a | than as she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps 311:335,18@a | he could not in her mother's presence be what he was 311:335,19@a | before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, but not an 311:335,20@a | improbable, conjecture. 311:335,21[' ]| Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in 311:335,22[' ]| that short period saw him looking both pleased and 311:335,23[' ]| embarrassed. He was received by Mrs%*Bennet with 311:335,24[' ]| a degree of civility, which made her two daughters 311:335,25[' ]| ashamed, especially when contrasted with the cold and 311:335,26[' ]| ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address to his 311:335,27[' ]| friend. 311:335,28[' ]| Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed 311:335,29[' ]| to the latter the preservation of her favourite daughter 311:335,30[' ]| from irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to 311:335,31[' ]| a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied. 311:335,32[' ]| Darcy, after enquiring of her 311:335,32@b | how Mr% and Mrs%*Gardiner 311:335,33@b | did, 311:335,33[' ]| a question which she could not answer without confusion, 311:335,34[' ]| said scarcely any*thing. 311:335,34@a | He was not seated by her; 311:335,35@a | perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but it had 311:335,36@a | not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her 311:335,37@a | friends, when he could not to herself. But now several 311:336,01@a | minutes elapsed, without bringing the sound of his voice; 311:336,02[' ]| and when occasionally, unable to resist the impulse of 311:336,03[' ]| curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often 311:336,04[' ]| found him looking at Jane, as at herself, and frequently 311:336,05[' ]| on no object but the ground. More thoughtfulness, and 311:336,06[' ]| less anxiety to please than when they last met, were 311:336,07[' ]| plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry with 311:336,08[' ]| herself for being so. 311:336,09[A ]| "Could I expect it to be otherwise!" 311:336,09[' ]| said she. 311:336,09[A ]| "Yet 311:336,10[A ]| why did he come?" 311:336,11[' ]| She was in no humour for conversation with any*one 311:336,12[' ]| but himself; and to him she had hardly courage to speak. 311:336,13[' ]| She enquired after his sister, but could do no more. 311:336,14[D ]| "It is a long time, Mr%*Bingley, since you went away," 311:336,15[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet. 311:336,16[' ]| He readily agreed to it. 311:336,17[D ]| "I began to be afraid you would never come back 311:336,18[D ]| again. People \did\ say, you meant to quit the place entirely 311:336,19[D ]| at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. 311:336,20[D ]| A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, 311:336,21[D ]| since you went away. Miss*Lucas is married and 311:336,22[D ]| settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you 311:336,23[D ]| have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the 311:336,24[D ]| papers. It was in the*Times and the*Courier, I know; 311:336,25[D ]| though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, 311:336,26@z | ""Lately, George*Wickham*Esq% to Miss*Lydia*Bennet,"" 311:336,27[D ]| without there being a syllable said of her father, or the 311:336,28[D ]| place where she lived, or any*thing. It was my brother 311:336,29[D ]| Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came 311:336,30[D ]| to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?" 311:336,31[' ]| Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. 311:336,32[' ]| Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr%*Darcy 311:336,33[' ]| looked, therefore, she could not tell. 311:336,34[D ]| "It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter 311:336,35[D ]| well married," 311:336,35[' ]| continued her mother, 311:336,35[D ]| "but at the same 311:336,36[D ]| time, Mr%*Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such 311:336,37[D ]| a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place 311:336,38[D ]| quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay, 311:337,01[D ]| I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I 311:337,02[D ]| suppose you have heard of his leaving the *****shire, and 311:337,03[D ]| of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he 311:337,04[D ]| has \some\ friends, though perhaps not so many as he 311:337,05[D ]| deserves." 311:337,06[' ]| Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr%*Darcy, 311:337,07[' ]| was in such misery of shame, that she could hardly keep 311:337,08[' ]| her seat. It drew from her, however, the exertion of 311:337,09[' ]| speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done 311:337,10[' ]| before; and she asked Bingley, 311:337,10@a | whether he meant to 311:337,11@a | make any stay in the country at present. 311:337,11@i | A few weeks, 311:337,12@i | he believed. 311:337,13[D ]| "When you have killed all your own birds, Mr%*Bingley," 311:337,14[' ]| said her mother, 311:337,14[D ]| "I beg you will come here, and shoot 311:337,15[D ]| as many as you please, on Mr%*Bennet's manor. I am 311:337,16[D ]| sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save 311:337,17[D ]| all the best of the covies for you." 311:337,18[' ]| Elizabeth's misery increased, at such unnecessary, such 311:337,19[' ]| officious attention! 311:337,19@a | Were the same fair prospect to arise 311:337,20@a | at present, as had flattered them a year ago, every*thing, 311:337,21[' ]| she was persuaded, 311:337,21@a | would be hastening to the same 311:337,22@a | vexatious conclusion. 311:337,22[' ]| At that instant she felt, that 311:337,22@a | years 311:337,23@a | of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends, for 311:337,24@a | moments of such painful confusion. 311:337,25@a | "The first wish of my heart," 311:337,25[' ]| said she to herself, 311:337,25@a | "is 311:337,26@a | never more to be in company with either of them. Their 311:337,27@a | society can afford no pleasure, that will atone for such 311:337,28@a | wretchedness as this! Let me never see either one or the 311:337,29@a | other again!" 311:337,30[' ]| Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to 311:337,31[' ]| offer no compensation, received soon afterwards material 311:337,32[' ]| relief, from observing how much the beauty of her sister 311:337,33[' ]| re-kindled the admiration of her former lover. When 311:337,34[' ]| first he came in, he had spoken to her but little; but 311:337,35[' ]| every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his 311:337,36[' ]| attention. He found her as handsome as she had been 311:337,37[' ]| last year; as good*natured, and as unaffected, though 311:337,38[' ]| not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no difference 311:338,01[' ]| should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded 311:338,02[' ]| that she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so 311:338,03[' ]| busily engaged, that she did not always know when she 311:338,04[' ]| was silent. 311:338,05[' ]| When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs%*Bennet was 311:338,06[' ]| mindful of her intended civility, and they were invited 311:338,07[' ]| and engaged to dine at Longbourn in a few days time. 311:338,08[D ]| "You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr%*Bingley," 311:338,08[' ]| she 311:338,09[' ]| added, 311:338,09[D ]| "for when you went to town last winter, you 311:338,10[D ]| promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you 311:338,11[D ]| returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, 311:338,12[D ]| I was very much disappointed that you did not come back 311:338,13[D ]| and keep your engagement." 311:338,14[' ]| Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said 311:338,15[' ]| something of his concern, at having been prevented by 311:338,16[' ]| business. They then went away. 311:338,17[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to 311:338,18[' ]| stay and dine there, that day; but, though she always 311:338,19[' ]| kept a very good table, she did not think any*thing less 311:338,20[' ]| than two courses, could be good enough for a man, on 311:338,21[' ]| whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite 311:338,22[' ]| and pride of one who had ten thousand a-year. 312:339,01[' ]| As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to 312:339,02[' ]| recover her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without 312:339,03[' ]| interruption on those subjects that must deaden them 312:339,04[' ]| more. Mr%*Darcy's behaviour astonished and vexed her. 312:339,05[A ]| "Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent," 312:339,06[' ]| said she, 312:339,06[A ]| "did he come at all?" 312:339,07[' ]| She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure. 312:339,08[A ]| "He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle 312:339,09[A ]| and aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? 312:339,10[A ]| If he fears me, why come hither? If he no longer cares 312:339,11[A ]| for me, why silent? Teazing, teazing, man! I will think 312:339,12[A ]| no more about him." 312:339,13[' ]| Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept 312:339,14[' ]| by the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful 312:339,15[' ]| look, which shewed her better satisfied with their 312:339,16[' ]| visitors, than Elizabeth. 312:339,17[E ]| "Now," 312:339,17[' ]| said she, 312:339,17[E ]| "that this first meeting is over, I feel 312:339,18[E ]| perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never 312:339,19[E ]| be embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines 312:339,20[E ]| here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen, that on 312:339,21[E ]| both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent 312:339,22[E ]| acquaintance." 312:339,23[A ]| "Yes, very indifferent indeed," 312:339,23[' ]| said Elizabeth, laughingly. 312:339,24[A ]| "Oh, Jane, take care." 312:339,25[E ]| "My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to 312:339,26[E ]| be in danger now." 312:339,27[A ]| "I think you are in very great danger of making him 312:339,28[A ]| as much in love with you as ever." 312:339,29[' ]| ~~~ 312:339,30[' ]| They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; 312:339,31[' ]| and Mrs%*Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all 312:339,32[' ]| the happy schemes, which the good*humour, and common 312:339,33[' ]| politeness of Bingley, in half an hour's visit, had revived. 312:340,01[' ]| On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; 312:340,02[' ]| and the two, who were most anxiously expected, 312:340,03[' ]| to the credit of their punctuality as sportsmen, were in 312:340,04[' ]| very good time. When they repaired to the dining-room, 312:340,05[' ]| Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley 312:340,06[' ]| would take the place, which, in all their former parties, 312:340,07[' ]| had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, 312:340,08[' ]| occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit 312:340,09[' ]| by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate; 312:340,10[' ]| but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: 312:340,11[' ]| it was decided. He placed himself by her. 312:340,12[' ]| Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards 312:340,13[' ]| his friend. He bore it with noble indifference, and she 312:340,14[' ]| would have imagined that Bingley had received his 312:340,15[' ]| sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes likewise 312:340,16[' ]| turned towards Mr%*Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing 312:340,17[' ]| alarm. 312:340,18[' ]| His behaviour to her sister was such, during dinner*time, 312:340,19[' ]| as shewed an admiration of her, which, though more 312:340,20[' ]| guarded than formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that if left 312:340,21[' ]| wholly to himself, Jane's happiness, and his own, would 312:340,22[' ]| be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon 312:340,23[' ]| the consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing 312:340,24[' ]| his behaviour. It gave her all the animation that her 312:340,25[' ]| spirits could boast; for she was in no cheerful humour. 312:340,26[' ]| Mr%*Darcy was almost as far from her, as the table could 312:340,27[' ]| divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She 312:340,28[' ]| knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to 312:340,29[' ]| either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not 312:340,30[' ]| near enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could 312:340,31[' ]| see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal 312:340,32[' ]| and cold was their manner, whenever they did. Her 312:340,33[' ]| mother's ungraciousness, made the sense of what they 312:340,34[' ]| owed him more painful to Elizabeth's mind; and she 312:340,35[' ]| would, at times, have given any*thing to be privileged to 312:340,36[' ]| tell him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt 312:340,37[' ]| by the whole of the family. 312:340,38[' ]| She was in hopes that the evening would afford some 312:341,01[' ]| opportunity of bringing them together; that the whole 312:341,02[' ]| of the visit would not pass away without enabling them 312:341,03[' ]| to enter into something more of conversation, than the 312:341,04[' ]| mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. 312:341,05[' ]| Anxious and uneasy, the period which passed in the 312:341,06[' ]| drawing-room, before the gentlemen came, was wearisome 312:341,07[' ]| and dull to a degree, that almost made her uncivil. She 312:341,08[' ]| looked forward to their entrance, as the point on 312:341,09[' ]| which all her chance of pleasure for the evening must 312:341,10[' ]| depend. 312:341,11[A ]| "If he does not come to me, \then\," 312:341,11[' ]| said she, 312:341,11[A ]| "I shall 312:341,12[A ]| give him up for*ever." 312:341,13[' ]| The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as 312:341,14[' ]| if he would have answered her hopes; but, alas! the 312:341,15[' ]| ladies had crowded round the table, where Miss*Bennet 312:341,16[' ]| was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in 312:341,17[' ]| so close a confederacy, that there was not a single vacancy 312:341,18[' ]| near her, which would admit of a chair. And on the 312:341,19[' ]| gentlemen's approaching, one of the girls moved closer 312:341,20[' ]| to her than ever, and said, in a whisper, 312:341,21[V ]| "The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. 312:341,22[V ]| We want none of them; do we?" 312:341,23[' ]| Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. 312:341,24[' ]| She followed him with her eyes, envied every*one to whom 312:341,25[' ]| he spoke, had scarcely patience enough to help anybody 312:341,26[' ]| to coffee; and then was enraged against herself for being 312:341,27[' ]| so silly! 312:341,28@a | "A man who has once been refused! How could I ever 312:341,29@a | be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there 312:341,30@a | one among the sex, who would not protest against such 312:341,31@a | a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? 312:341,32@a | There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings!" 312:341,33[' ]| She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back 312:341,34[' ]| his coffee cup himself; and she seized the opportunity 312:341,35[' ]| of saying. 312:341,36[A ]| "Is your sister at Pemberley still" 312:341,37[B ]| "Yes, she will remain there till Christmas." 312:341,38[A ]| "And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?" 312:342,01[B ]| "Mrs%*Annesley is with her. The others have been gone 312:342,02[B ]| on to Scarborough, these three weeks." 312:342,03[' ]| She could think of nothing more to say; but if he 312:342,04[' ]| wished to converse with her, he might have better success. 312:342,05[' ]| He stood by her, however, for some minutes, in silence; 312:342,06[' ]| and, at last, on the young lady's whispering to Elizabeth 312:342,07[' ]| again, he walked away. 312:342,08[' ]| When the tea-things were removed, and the card*tables 312:342,09[' ]| placed, the ladies all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping 312:342,10[' ]| to be soon joined by him, when all her views were overthrown, 312:342,11[' ]| by seeing him fall a victim to her mother's rapacity 312:342,12[' ]| for whist players, and in a few moments after seated with 312:342,13[' ]| the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of 312:342,14[' ]| pleasure. They were confined for the evening at different 312:342,15[' ]| tables, and she had nothing to hope, but that his eyes 312:342,16[' ]| were so often turned towards her side of the room, as to 312:342,17[' ]| make him play as unsuccessfully as herself. 312:342,18[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield 312:342,19[' ]| gentlemen to supper; but their carriage was unluckily 312:342,20[' ]| ordered before any of the others, and she had no opportunity 312:342,21[' ]| of detaining them. 312:342,22[D ]| "Well girls," 312:342,22[' ]| said she, as soon as they were left to 312:342,23[' ]| themselves, 312:342,23[D ]| "What say you to the day? I think every*thing 312:342,24[D ]| has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The 312:342,25[D ]| dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison 312:342,26[D ]| was roasted to a turn ~~ and everybody said, they never 312:342,27[D ]| saw so fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better 312:342,28[D ]| than what we had at the Lucas's last week; and even 312:342,29[D ]| Mr%*Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were remarkably 312:342,30[D ]| well done; and I suppose he has two or three French 312:342,31[D ]| cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look 312:342,32[D ]| in greater beauty. Mrs%*Long said so too, for I asked her 312:342,33[D ]| whether you did not. And what do you think she said 312:342,34[D ]| besides? 312:342,34@v | ""Ah! Mrs%*Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield 312:342,35@v | at last."" 312:342,35[D ]| She did indeed. I do think Mrs%*Long is 312:342,36[D ]| as good a creature as ever lived ~~ and her nieces are very 312:342,37[D ]| pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like 312:342,38[D ]| them prodigiously." 312:343,01[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits; she 312:343,02[' ]| had seen enough of Bingley's behaviour to Jane, to be 312:343,03[' ]| convinced that she would get him at last; and her expectations 312:343,04[' ]| of advantage to her family, when in a happy 312:343,05[' ]| humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite 312:343,06[' ]| disappointed at not seeing him there again the next day, 312:343,07[' ]| to make his proposals. 312:343,08[E ]| "It has been a very agreeable day," 312:343,08[' ]| said Miss*Bennet 312:343,09[' ]| to Elizabeth. 312:343,09[E ]| "The party seemed so well selected, so 312:343,10[E ]| suitable one with the other. I hope we may often meet 312:343,11[E ]| again." 312:343,12[' ]| Elizabeth smiled. 312:343,13[E ]| "Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect 312:343,14[E ]| me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt 312:343,15[E ]| to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible 312:343,16[E ]| young man, without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly 312:343,17[E ]| satisfied from what his manners now are, that he never 312:343,18[E ]| had any design of engaging my affection. It is only that 312:343,19[E ]| he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, and a 312:343,20[E ]| stronger desire of generally pleasing than any other man." 312:343,21[A ]| "You are very cruel," 312:343,21[' ]| said her sister, 312:343,21[A ]| "you will not 312:343,22[A ]| let me smile, and are provoking me to it every moment." 312:343,23[E ]| "How hard it is in some cases to be believed!" 312:343,24[A ]| "And how impossible in others!" 312:343,25[E ]| "But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel 312:343,26[E ]| more than I acknowledge?" 312:343,27[A ]| "That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. 312:343,28[A ]| We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what 312:343,29[A ]| is not worth knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist 312:343,30[A ]| in indifference, do not make \me\ your confidante." 313:344,01[' ]| A few days after this visit, Mr%*Bingley called again, 313:344,02[' ]| and alone. His friend had left him that morning for 313:344,03[' ]| London, but was to return home in ten days time. He 313:344,04[' ]| sat with them above an hour, and was in remarkably good 313:344,05[' ]| spirits. Mrs%*Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, 313:344,06[' ]| with many expressions of concern, he confessed himself 313:344,07[' ]| engaged elsewhere. 313:344,08[D ]| "Next time you call," 313:344,08[' ]| said she, 313:344,08[D ]| "I hope we shall be 313:344,09[D ]| more lucky." 313:344,10@i | He should be particularly happy at any time, &c% &c%; 313:344,11@i | and if she would give him leave, would take an early 313:344,12@i | opportunity of waiting on them. 313:344,13[D ]| "Can you come to-morrow?" 313:344,14@i | Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; 313:344,14[' ]| and 313:344,15[' ]| her invitation was accepted with alacrity. 313:344,16[' ]| He came, and in such very good time, that the ladies 313:344,17[' ]| were none of them dressed. In ran Mrs%*Bennet to her 313:344,18[' ]| daughter's room, in her dressing*gown, and with her hair 313:344,19[' ]| half finished, crying out, 313:344,20[D ]| "My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is 313:344,21[D ]| come ~~ Mr%*Bingley is come. ~~ He is, indeed. Make haste, 313:344,22[D ]| make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss*Bennet this 313:344,23[D ]| moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind 313:344,24[D ]| Miss*Lizzy's hair." 313:344,25[E ]| "We will be down as soon as we can," 313:344,25[' ]| said Jane; 313:344,26[E ]| "but I dare say Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for 313:344,27[E ]| she went up*stairs half an hour ago." 313:344,28[D ]| "Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come 313:344,29[D ]| be quick, be quick! where is your sash my dear?" 313:344,30[' ]| But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be 313:344,31[' ]| prevailed on to go down without one of her sisters. 313:344,32[' ]| The same anxiety to get them by themselves, was 313:344,33[' ]| visible again in the evening. After tea, Mr%*Bennet retired 313:344,34[' ]| to the library, as was his custom, and Mary went up*stairs 313:345,01[' ]| to her instrument. Two obstacles of the five being thus 313:345,02[' ]| removed, Mrs%*Bennet sat looking and winking at Elizabeth 313:345,03[' ]| and Catherine for a considerable time, without making 313:345,04[' ]| any impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe 313:345,05[' ]| her; and when at last Kitty did, she very innocently 313:345,06[' ]| said, 313:345,06[G ]| "What is the matter mamma? What do you keep 313:345,07[G ]| winking at me for? What am I to do?" 313:345,08[D ]| "Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you." 313:345,09[' ]| She then sat still five minutes longer; but unable to 313:345,10[' ]| waste such a precious occasion, she suddenly got up, and 313:345,11[' ]| saying to Kitty, 313:345,12[D ]| "Come here, my love, I want to speak to you," 313:345,12[' ]| took 313:345,13[' ]| her out of the room. Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth, 313:345,14[' ]| which spoke her distress at such premeditation, and 313:345,15[' ]| her intreaty that \she\ would not give into it. In a few 313:345,16[' ]| minutes, Mrs%*Bennet half opened the door and called out, 313:345,17[D ]| "Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you." 313:345,18[' ]| Elizabeth was forced to go. 313:345,19[D ]| "We may as well leave them by themselves you 313:345,20[D ]| know;" 313:345,20[' ]| said her mother as soon as she was in the hall. 313:345,21[D ]| "Kitty and I are going up*stairs to sit in my dressing*room." 313:345,22[' ]| Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, 313:345,23[' ]| but remained quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were 313:345,24[' ]| out of sight, then returned into the drawing*room. 313:345,25[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet's schemes for this day were ineffectual. 313:345,26[' ]| Bingley was every*thing that was charming, except the 313:345,27[' ]| professed lover of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness 313:345,28[' ]| rendered him a most agreeable addition to their evening 313:345,29[' ]| party; and he bore with the ill-judged officiousness of 313:345,30[' ]| the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a forbearance 313:345,31[' ]| and command of countenance, particularly 313:345,32[' ]| grateful to the daughter. 313:345,33[' ]| He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and 313:345,34[' ]| before he went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly 313:345,35[' ]| through his own and Mrs%*Bennet's means, for his coming 313:345,36[' ]| next morning to shoot with her husband. 313:345,37[' ]| After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. 313:345,38[' ]| Not a word passed between the sisters concerning Bingley; 313:346,01[' ]| but Elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all 313:346,02[' ]| must speedily be concluded, unless Mr%*Darcy returned 313:346,03[' ]| within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt 313:346,04[' ]| tolerably persuaded that all this must have taken place 313:346,05[' ]| with that gentleman's concurrence. 313:346,06[' ]| Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and 313:346,07[' ]| Mr%*Bennet spent the morning together, as had been agreed 313:346,08[' ]| on. The latter was much more agreeable than his companion 313:346,09[' ]| expected. There was nothing of presumption or 313:346,10[' ]| folly in Bingley, that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust 313:346,11[' ]| him into silence; and he was more communicative, and 313:346,12[' ]| less eccentric than the other had ever seen him. Bingley 313:346,13[' ]| of course returned with him to dinner; and in the evening 313:346,14[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet's invention was again at work to get every*body 313:346,15[' ]| away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who 313:346,16[' ]| had a letter to write, went into the breakfast*room for 313:346,17[' ]| that purpose soon after tea; for as the others were all 313:346,18[' ]| going to sit down to cards, she could not be wanted to 313:346,19[' ]| counteract her mother's schemes. 313:346,20[' ]| But on returning to the drawing*room, when her letter 313:346,21[' ]| was finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was 313:346,22[' ]| reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious for 313:346,23[' ]| her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and 313:346,24[' ]| Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in 313:346,25[' ]| earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, 313:346,26[' ]| the faces of both as they hastily turned round, and moved 313:346,27[' ]| away from each other, would have told it all. \Their\ 313:346,28[' ]| situation was awkward enough; but \her's\ she thought was 313:346,29[' ]| still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by either; and Elizabeth 313:346,30[' ]| was on the point of going away again, when Bingley, 313:346,31[' ]| who as well as the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and 313:346,32[' ]| whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of the room. 313:346,33[' ]| Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where 313:346,34[' ]| confidence would give pleasure; and instantly embracing 313:346,35[' ]| her, acknowledged, with the liveliest emotion, that she 313:346,36[' ]| was the happiest creature in the world. 313:346,37[E ]| "'Tis too much!" 313:346,37[' ]| she added, 313:346,37[E ]| "by far too much. I do 313:346,38[E ]| not deserve it. Oh! why is not every*body as happy?" 313:347,01[' ]| Elizabeth's congratulations were given with a sincerity, 313:347,02[' ]| a warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. 313:347,03[' ]| Every sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness 313:347,04[' ]| to Jane. But she would not allow herself to stay with her 313:347,05[' ]| sister, or say half that remained to be said, for the present. 313:347,06[E ]| "I must go instantly to my mother;" 313:347,06[' ]| she cried. 313:347,07[E ]| "I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate 313:347,08[E ]| solicitude; or allow her to hear it from any*one but myself. 313:347,09[E ]| He is gone to my father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know 313:347,10[E ]| that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all 313:347,11[E ]| my dear family! how shall I bear so much happiness!" 313:347,12[' ]| She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely 313:347,13[' ]| broken up the card*party, and was sitting up*stairs 313:347,14[' ]| with Kitty. 313:347,15[' ]| Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the 313:347,16[' ]| rapidity and ease with which an affair was finally settled, 313:347,17[' ]| that had given them so many previous months of suspense 313:347,18[' ]| and vexation. 313:347,19[A ]| "And this," 313:347,19[' ]| said she, 313:347,19[A ]| "is the end of all his friend's 313:347,20[A ]| anxious circumspection! of all his sister's falsehood 313:347,21[A ]| and contrivance! the happiest, wisest, most reasonable 313:347,22[A ]| end!" 313:347,23[' ]| In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose 313:347,24[' ]| conference with her father had been short and to the 313:347,25[' ]| purpose. 313:347,26[I ]| "Where is your sister?" 313:347,26[' ]| said he hastily, as he opened 313:347,27[' ]| the door. 313:347,28[A ]| "With my mother up*stairs. She will be down in a 313:347,29[A ]| moment I dare say." 313:347,30[' ]| He then shut the door, and coming up to her, claimed 313:347,31[' ]| the good wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth 313:347,32[' ]| honestly and heartily expressed her delight in the prospect 313:347,33[' ]| of their relationship. They shook hands with great 313:347,34[' ]| cordiality; and then till her sister came down, she had 313:347,35[' ]| to listen to all he had to say, of his own happiness, and 313:347,36[' ]| of Jane's perfections; and in spite of his being a lover, 313:347,37[' ]| Elizabeth really believed all his expectations of felicity, 313:347,38[' ]| to be rationally founded, because they had for basis the 313:348,01[' ]| excellent understanding, and super-excellent disposition 313:348,02[' ]| of Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste 313:348,03[' ]| between her and himself. 313:348,04[' ]| It was an evening of no common delight to them all; 313:348,05[' ]| the satisfaction of Miss*Bennet's mind gave a glow of 313:348,06[' ]| such sweet animation to her face, as made her look handsomer 313:348,07[' ]| than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped 313:348,08[' ]| her turn was coming soon. Mrs%*Bennet could not give 313:348,09[' ]| her consent, or speak her approbation in terms warm 313:348,10[' ]| enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked to Bingley 313:348,11[' ]| of nothing else, for half an hour; and when Mr%*Bennet 313:348,12[' ]| joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly 313:348,13[' ]| shewed how really happy he was. 313:348,14[' ]| Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, 313:348,15[' ]| till their visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon 313:348,16[' ]| as he was gone, he turned to his daughter and said, 313:348,17[C ]| "Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy 313:348,18[C ]| woman." 313:348,19[' ]| Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked 313:348,20[' ]| him for his goodness. 313:348,21[C ]| "You are a good girl;" 313:348,21[' ]| he replied, 313:348,21[C ]| "and I have great 313:348,22[C ]| pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have 313:348,23[C ]| not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your 313:348,24[C ]| tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so 313:348,25[C ]| complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so 313:348,26[C ]| easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, 313:348,27[C ]| that you will always exceed your income." 313:348,28[E ]| "I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in 313:348,29[E ]| money matters, would be unpardonable in \me\." 313:348,30[D ]| "Exceed their income! My dear Mr%*Bennet," 313:348,30[' ]| cried 313:348,31[' ]| his wife, 313:348,31[D ]| "what are you talking of? Why, he has four 313:348,32[D ]| or five thousand a-year, and very likely more." 313:348,32[' ]| Then 313:348,33[' ]| addressing her daughter, 313:348,33[D ]| "Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am 313:348,34[D ]| so happy! I am sure I sha'nt get a wink of sleep all night. 313:348,35[D ]| I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, 313:348,36[D ]| at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for 313:348,37[D ]| nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when 313:348,38[D ]| he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how 313:349,01[D ]| likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is 313:349,02[D ]| the handsomest young man that ever was seen!" 313:349,03[' ]| Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond 313:349,04[' ]| competition her favourite child. At that moment, she 313:349,05[' ]| cared for no other. Her younger sisters soon began to 313:349,06[' ]| make interest with her for objects of happiness which she 313:349,07[' ]| might in future be able to dispense. 313:349,08[' ]| Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; 313:349,09[' ]| and Kitty begged very hard for a few balls there every 313:349,10[' ]| winter. 313:349,11[' ]| Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor 313:349,12[' ]| at Longbourn; coming frequently before breakfast, and 313:349,13[' ]| always remaining till after supper; unless when some 313:349,14[' ]| barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough detested, 313:349,15[' ]| had given him an invitation to dinner, which he thought 313:349,16[' ]| himself obliged to accept. 313:349,17[' ]| Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with 313:349,18[' ]| her sister; for while he was present, Jane had no attention 313:349,19[' ]| to bestow on any*one else; but she found herself considerably 313:349,20[' ]| useful to both of them, in those hours of separation 313:349,21[' ]| that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, 313:349,22[' ]| he always attached himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure 313:349,23[' ]| of talking of her; and when Bingley was gone, Jane 313:349,24[' ]| constantly sought the same means of relief. 313:349,25[E ]| "He has made me so happy," 313:349,25[' ]| said she, one evening, 313:349,26[E ]| "by telling me, that he was totally ignorant of my 313:349,27[E ]| being in town last spring! I had not believed it 313:349,28[E ]| possible." 313:349,29[A ]| "I suspected as much," 313:349,29[' ]| replied Elizabeth. 313:349,29[A ]| "But how 313:349,30[A ]| did he account for it?" 313:349,31[E ]| "It must have been his sister's doing. They were 313:349,32[E ]| certainly no friends to his acquaintance with me, which 313:349,33[E ]| I cannot wonder at, since he might have chosen so much 313:349,34[E ]| more advantageously in many respects. But when they 313:349,35[E ]| see, as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with 313:349,36[E ]| me, they will learn to be contented, and we shall be on 313:349,37[E ]| good terms again; though we can never be what we once 313:349,38[E ]| were to each other." 313:350,01[A ]| "That is the most unforgiving speech," 313:350,01[' ]| said Elizabeth, 313:350,02[A ]| "that I ever heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex 313:350,03[A ]| me, indeed, to see you again the dupe of Miss*Bingley's 313:350,04[A ]| pretended regard." 313:350,05[E ]| "Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to 313:350,06[E ]| town last November, he really loved me, and nothing but 313:350,07[E ]| a persuasion of \my\ being indifferent, would have prevented 313:350,08[E ]| his coming down again!" 313:350,09[A ]| "He made a little mistake to be sure; but it is to 313:350,10[A ]| the credit of his modesty." 313:350,11[' ]| This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on 313:350,12[' ]| his diffidence, and the little value he put on his own good 313:350,13[' ]| qualities. 313:350,14[' ]| Elizabeth was pleased to find, that he had not betrayed 313:350,15[' ]| the interference of his friend, for, though Jane had the 313:350,16[' ]| most generous and forgiving heart in the world, she knew it 313:350,17[' ]| was a circumstance which must prejudice her against him. 313:350,18[E ]| "I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever 313:350,19[E ]| existed!" 313:350,19[' ]| cried Jane. 313:350,19[E ]| "Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus 313:350,20[E ]| singled from my family, and blessed above them all! 313:350,21[E ]| If I could but see \you\ as happy! If there \were\ but such 313:350,22[E ]| another man for you!" 313:350,23[A ]| "If you were to give me forty such men, I never could 313:350,24[A ]| be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your 313:350,25[A ]| goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, let 313:350,26[A ]| me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good 313:350,27[A ]| luck, I may meet with another Mr%*Collins in time." 313:350,28[' ]| The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could 313:350,29[' ]| not be long a secret. Mrs%*Bennet was privileged to whisper 313:350,30[' ]| it to Mrs%*Philips, and \she\ ventured, without any permission, 313:350,31[' ]| to do the same by all her neighbours in Meryton. 313:350,32[' ]| The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest 313:350,33[' ]| family in the world, though only a few weeks before, when 313:350,34[' ]| Lydia had first run away, they had been generally proved 313:350,35[' ]| to be marked out for misfortune. 314:351,01[' ]| One morning, about a week after Bingley's engagement 314:351,02[' ]| with Jane had been formed, as he and the females of the 314:351,03[' ]| family were sitting together in the dining*room, their 314:351,04[' ]| attention was suddenly drawn to the window, by the 314:351,05[' ]| sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four 314:351,06[' ]| driving up the lawn. It was too early in the morning for 314:351,07[' ]| visitors, and besides, the equipage did not answer to that 314:351,08[' ]| of any of their neighbours. The horses were post; and 314:351,09[' ]| neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who 314:351,10[' ]| preceded it, were familiar to them. As it was certain, 314:351,11[' ]| however, that somebody was coming, Bingley instantly 314:351,12[' ]| prevailed on Miss*Bennet to avoid the confinement of 314:351,13[' ]| such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the 314:351,14[' ]| shrubbery. They both set off, and the conjectures of the 314:351,15[' ]| remaining three continued, though with little satisfaction, 314:351,16[' ]| till the door was thrown open, and their visitor entered. 314:351,17[' ]| It was lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh. 314:351,18[' ]| They were of course all intending to be surprised; but 314:351,19[' ]| their astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on 314:351,20[' ]| the part of Mrs%*Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly 314:351,21[' ]| unknown to them, even inferior to what Elizabeth felt. 314:351,22[' ]| She entered the room with an air more than usually 314:351,23[' ]| ungracious, made no other reply to Elizabeth's salutation, 314:351,24[' ]| than a slight inclination of the head, and sat down without 314:351,25[' ]| saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her name to 314:351,26[' ]| her mother, on her ladyship's entrance, though no request 314:351,27[' ]| of introduction had been made. 314:351,28[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet all amazement, though flattered by having 314:351,29[' ]| a guest of such high importance, received her with the 314:351,30[' ]| utmost politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, 314:351,31[' ]| she said very stiffly to Elizabeth, 314:351,32[L ]| "I hope you are well, Miss*Bennet. That lady I suppose 314:351,33[L ]| is your mother." 314:352,01[' ]| Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was. 314:352,02[L ]| "And \that\ I suppose is one of your sisters." 314:352,03[D ]| "Yes, madam," 314:352,03[' ]| said Mrs%*Bennet, delighted to speak 314:352,04[' ]| to a lady*Catherine. 314:352,04[D ]| "She is my youngest girl but one. 314:352,05[D ]| My youngest of all, is lately married, and my eldest is 314:352,06[D ]| some-where about the grounds, walking with a young man, 314:352,07[D ]| who I believe will soon become a part of the family." 314:352,08[L ]| "You have a very small park here," 314:352,08[' ]| returned lady*Catherine 314:352,09[' ]| after a short silence. 314:352,10[D ]| "It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, 314:352,11[D ]| I dare say; but I assure you it is much larger than 314:352,12[D ]| Sir*William*Lucas's." 314:352,13[L ]| "This must be a most inconvenient sitting*room for 314:352,14[L ]| the evening, in summer; the windows are full west." 314:352,15[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet assured her that they never sat there after 314:352,16[' ]| dinner; and then added, 314:352,17[D ]| "May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship 314:352,18[D ]| whether you left Mr% and Mrs%*Collins well." 314:352,19[L ]| "Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last." 314:352,20[' ]| Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter 314:352,21[' ]| for her from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable 314:352,22[' ]| motive for her calling. But no letter appeared, and she 314:352,23[' ]| was completely puzzled. 314:352,24[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship 314:352,25[' ]| to take some refreshment; but Lady*Catherine very 314:352,26[' ]| resolutely, and not very politely, declined eating any*thing; 314:352,27[' ]| and then rising up, said to Elizabeth, 314:352,28[L ]| "Miss*Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of 314:352,29[L ]| a little wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be 314:352,30[L ]| glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your 314:352,31[L ]| company." 314:352,32[D ]| "Go, my dear," 314:352,32[' ]| cried her mother, 314:352,32[D ]| "and shew her 314:352,33[D ]| ladyship about the different walks. I think she will be 314:352,34[D ]| pleased with the hermitage." 314:352,35[' ]| Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for 314:352,36[' ]| her parasol, attended her noble guest down*stairs. As 314:352,37[' ]| they passed through the hall, Lady*Catherine opened the 314:352,38[' ]| doors into the dining-parlour and drawing-room, and 314:353,01[' ]| pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be decent looking 314:353,02[' ]| rooms, walked on. 314:353,03[' ]| Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw 314:353,04[' ]| that her waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in 314:353,05[' ]| silence along the gravel walk that led to the copse; Elizabeth 314:353,06[' ]| was determined to make no effort for conversation 314:353,07[' ]| with a woman, who was now more than usually insolent 314:353,08[' ]| and disagreeable. 314:353,09[A ]| "How could I ever think her like her nephew?" 314:353,09[' ]| said 314:353,10[' ]| she, as she looked in her face. 314:353,11[' ]| As soon as they entered the copse, Lady*Catherine began 314:353,12[' ]| in the following manner: ~~ 314:353,13[L ]| "You can be at no loss, Miss*Bennet, to understand the 314:353,14[L ]| reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own 314:353,15[L ]| conscience, must tell you why I come." 314:353,16[' ]| Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment. 314:353,17[A ]| "Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been 314:353,18[A ]| at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here." 314:353,19[L ]| "Miss*Bennet," 314:353,19[' ]| replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, 314:353,20[L ]| "you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. 314:353,21[L ]| But however insincere \you\ may choose to be, you shall 314:353,22[L ]| not find \me\ so. My character has ever been celebrated 314:353,23[L ]| for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such 314:353,24[L ]| moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. 314:353,25[L ]| A report of a most alarming nature, reached me two days 314:353,26[L ]| ago. I was told, that not only your sister was on the 314:353,27[L ]| point of being most advantageously married, but that \you\, 314:353,28[L ]| that Miss*Elizabeth*Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be 314:353,29[L ]| soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, 314:353,30[L ]| Mr%*Darcy. Though I \know\ it must be a scandalous 314:353,31[L ]| falsehood; though I would not injure him so much as 314:353,32[L ]| to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved 314:353,33[L ]| on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments 314:353,34[L ]| known to you." 314:353,35[A ]| "If you believed it impossible to be true," 314:353,35[' ]| said Elizabeth, 314:353,36[' ]| colouring with astonishment and disdain, 314:353,36[A ]| "I wonder you 314:353,37[A ]| took the trouble of coming so far. What could your 314:353,38[A ]| ladyship propose by it?" 314:354,01[L ]| "At once to insist upon having such a report universally 314:354,02[L ]| contradicted." 314:354,03[A ]| "Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family," 314:354,04[' ]| said Elizabeth, coolly, 314:354,04[A ]| "will be rather a confirmation of 314:354,05[A ]| it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence." 314:354,06[L ]| "If! do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has 314:354,07[L ]| it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do 314:354,08[L ]| you not know that such a report is spread abroad?" 314:354,09[A ]| "I never heard that it was." 314:354,10[L ]| "And can you likewise declare, that there is no \foundation\ 314:354,11[L ]| for it?" 314:354,12[A ]| "I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your 314:353,13[A ]| ladyship. \You\ may ask questions, which \I\ shall not choose 314:354,14[A ]| to answer." 314:354,15[L ]| "This is not to be borne. Miss*Bennet, I insist on being 314:354,16[L ]| satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of 314:354,17[L ]| marriage?" 314:354,18[A ]| "Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible." 314:354,19[L ]| "It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the 314:354,20[L ]| use of his reason. But \your\ arts and allurements may, 314:354,21[L ]| in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what 314:354,22[L ]| he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have 314:354,23[L ]| drawn him in." 314:354,24[A ]| "If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it." 314:354,25[L ]| "Miss*Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not 314:354,26[L ]| been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost 314:354,27[L ]| the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled 314:354,28[L ]| to know all his dearest concerns." 314:354,29[A ]| "But you are not entitled to know \mine\; nor will 314:354,30[A ]| such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit." 314:354,31[L ]| "Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which 314:354,32[L ]| you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. 314:354,33[L ]| No, never. Mr%*Darcy is engaged to \my\ \daughter\. Now 314:354,34[L ]| what have you to say?" 314:354,35[A ]| "Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason 314:354,36[A ]| to suppose he will make an offer to me." 314:354,37[' ]| Lady*Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then 314:354,38[' ]| replied, 314:355,01[L ]| "The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. 314:355,02[L ]| From their infancy, they have been intended for each 314:355,03[L ]| other. It was the favourite wish of \his\ mother, as well 314:355,04[L ]| as of her's. While in their cradles, we planned the union: 314:355,05[L ]| and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters 314:355,06[L ]| would be accomplished, in their marriage, to be prevented 314:355,07[L ]| by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in 314:355,08[L ]| the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you 314:355,09[L ]| pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit 314:355,10[L ]| engagement with Miss*De*Bourgh? Are you lost to every 314:355,11[L ]| feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard 314:355,12[L ]| me say, that from his earliest hours he was destined for 314:355,13[L ]| his cousin?" 314:355,14[A ]| "Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that 314:355,15[A ]| to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your 314:355,16[A ]| nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it, by knowing 314:355,17[A ]| that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss*De*Bourgh. 314:355,18[A ]| You both did as much as you could, in planning 314:355,19[A ]| the marriage. Its completion depended on others. 314:355,20[A ]| If Mr%*Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined 314:355,21[A ]| to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And 314:355,22[A ]| if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?" 314:355,23[L ]| "Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, 314:355,24[L ]| forbid it. Yes, Miss*Bennet, interest; for do not expect 314:355,25[L ]| to be noticed by his family or friends, if you wilfully act 314:355,26[L ]| against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, 314:355,27[L ]| slighted, and despised, by every*one connected with him. 314:355,28[L ]| Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never 314:355,29[L ]| even be mentioned by any of us." 314:355,30[A ]| "These are heavy misfortunes," 314:355,30[' ]| replied Elizabeth. 314:355,31[A ]| "But the wife of Mr%*Darcy must have such extraordinary 314:355,32[A ]| sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, 314:355,33[A ]| that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine." 314:355,34[L ]| "Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! 314:355,35[L ]| Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last 314:355,36[L ]| spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? 314:355,37[L ]| "Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss*Bennet, 314:355,38[L ]| that I came here with the determined resolution of 314:356,01[L ]| carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. 314:356,02[L ]| I have not been used to submit to any person's whims. 314:356,03[L ]| I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment." 314:356,04[A ]| "\That\ will make your ladyship's situation at present 314:356,05[A ]| more pitiable; but it will have no effect on \me\." 314:356,06[L ]| "I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My 314:356,07[L ]| daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They 314:356,08[L ]| are descended on the maternal side, from the same noble 314:356,09[L ]| line; and, on the father's, from respectable, honourable, 314:356,10[L ]| and ancient, though untitled families. Their fortune on 314:356,11[L ]| both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other 314:356,12[L ]| by the voice of every member of their respective houses; 314:356,13[L ]| and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of 314:356,14[L ]| a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. 314:356,15[L ]| Is this to be endured! But it must not, shall not be. If 314:356,16[L ]| you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish 314:356,17[L ]| to quit the sphere, in which you have been brought up." 314:356,18[A ]| "In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself 314:356,19[A ]| as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman's 314:356,20[A ]| daughter; so far we are equal." 314:356,21[L ]| "True. You \are\ a gentleman's daughter. But who was 314:356,22[L ]| your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not 314:356,23[L ]| imagine me ignorant of their condition." 314:356,24[A ]| "Whatever my connections may be," 314:356,24[' ]| said Elizabeth, 314:356,25[A ]| "if your nephew does not object to them, they can be 314:356,26[A ]| nothing to you." 314:356,27[L ]| "Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?" 314:356,28[' ]| Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of 314:356,29[' ]| obliging Lady*Catherine, have answered this question; 314:356,30[' ]| she could not but say, after a moment's deliberation, 314:356,31[A ]| "I am not." 314:356,32[' ]| Lady*Catherine seemed pleased. 314:356,33[L ]| "And will you promise me, never to enter into such an 314:356,34[L ]| engagement?" 314:356,35[A ]| "I will make no promise of the kind." 314:356,36[L ]| "Miss*Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected 314:356,37[L ]| to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not 314:356,38[L ]| deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. 314:357,01[L ]| I shall not go away, till you have given me the assurance 314:357,02[L ]| I require." 314:357,03[A ]| "And I certainly \never\ shall give it. I am not to be 314:357,04[A ]| intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your 314:357,05[A ]| ladyship wants Mr%*Darcy to marry your daughter; but 314:357,06[A ]| would my giving you the wished-for promise, make \their\ 314:357,07[A ]| marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be 314:357,08[A ]| attached to me, would \my\ refusing to accept his hand, 314:357,09[A ]| make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to 314:357,10[A ]| say, Lady*Catherine, that the arguments with which you 314:357,11[A ]| have supported this extraordinary application, have been 314:357,12[A ]| as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have 314:357,13[A ]| widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be 314:357,14[A ]| worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your 314:357,15[A ]| nephew might approve of your interference in \his\ affairs, 314:357,16[A ]| I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern 314:357,17[A ]| yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned 314:357,18[A ]| no farther on the subject." 314:357,19[L ]| "Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means 314:357,20[L ]| done. To all the objections I have already urged, I have 314:357,21[L ]| still another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars 314:357,22[L ]| of your youngest sister's infamous elopement. I know 314:357,23[L ]| it all; that the young man's marrying her, was a patched-up 314:357,24[L ]| business, at the expence of your father and uncles. 314:357,25[L ]| And is \such\ a girl to be my nephew's sister? Is \her\ husband, 314:357,26[L ]| is the son of his late father's steward, to be his brother? 314:357,27[L ]| Heaven and earth! ~~ of what are you thinking? Are the 314:357,28[L ]| shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?" 314:357,29[A ]| "You can \now\ have nothing farther to say," 314:357,29[' ]| she resentfully 314:357,30[' ]| answered. 314:357,30[A ]| "You have insulted me, in every possible 314:357,31[A ]| method. I must beg to return to the house." 314:357,32[' ]| And she rose as she spoke. Lady*Catherine rose also, 314:357,33[' ]| and they turned back. Her ladyship was highly incensed. 314:357,34[' ]| 314:357,35[L ]| "You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit 314:357,36[L ]| of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider 314:357,37[L ]| that a connection with you, must disgrace him in 314:357,38[L ]| the eyes of everybody?" 314:358,01[A ]| "Lady*Catherine, I have nothing farther to say. You 314:358,02[A ]| know my sentiments." 314:358,03[L ]| "You are then resolved to have him?" 314:358,04[A ]| "I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act 314:358,05[A ]| in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute 314:358,06[A ]| my happiness, without reference to \you\, or to any person 314:358,07[A ]| so wholly unconnected with me." 314:358,08[L ]| "It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse 314:358,09[L ]| to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You 314:358,10[L ]| are determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends, 314:358,11[L ]| and make him the contempt of the world." 314:358,12[A ]| "Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude," 314:358,12[' ]| replied 314:358,13[' ]| Elizabeth, 314:358,13[A ]| "have any possible claim on me, in the present 314:358,14[A ]| instance. No principle of either, would be violated by 314:358,15[A ]| my marriage with Mr%*Darcy. And with regard to the 314:358,16[A ]| resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, 314:358,17[A ]| if the former \were\ excited by his marrying me, it would 314:358,18[A ]| not give me one moment's concern ~~ and the world in 314:358,19[A ]| general would have too much sense to join in the scorn." 314:358,20[L ]| "And this is your real opinion! This is your final 314:358,21[L ]| resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do 314:358,22[L ]| not imagine, Miss*Bennet, that your ambition will ever 314:358,23[L ]| be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you 314:358,24[L ]| reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point." 314:358,25[' ]| In this manner Lady*Catherine talked on, till they were 314:358,26[' ]| at the door of the carriage, when turning hastily round, 314:358,27[' ]| she added, 314:358,28[L ]| "I take no leave of you, Miss*Bennet. I send no compliments 314:358,29[L ]| to your mother. You deserve no such attention. 314:358,30[L ]| I am most seriously displeased." 314:358,31[' ]| Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting 314:358,32[' ]| to persuade her ladyship to return into the house, walked 314:358,33[' ]| quietly into it herself. She heard the carriage drive away 314:358,34[' ]| as she proceeded up*stairs. Her mother impatiently met 314:358,35[' ]| her at the door of the dressing-room, to ask why Lady*Catherine 314:358,36[' ]| would not come in again and rest herself. 314:358,37[A ]| "She did not choose it," 314:358,37[' ]| said her daughter, 314:358,37[A ]| "she 314:358,38[A ]| would go." 314:359,01[D ]| "She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling 314:359,02[D ]| here was prodigiously civil! for she only came, I suppose, 314:359,03[D ]| to tell us the Collinses were well. She is on her road 314:359,04[D ]| somewhere, I dare say, and so passing through Meryton, 314:359,05[D ]| thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had 314:359,06[D ]| nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?" 314:359,07[' ]| Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood 314:359,08[' ]| here; for to acknowledge the substance of their conversation 314:359,09[' ]| was impossible. 315:360,01[' ]| The discomposure of spirits, which this extraordinary 315:360,02[' ]| visit threw Elizabeth into, could not be easily overcome; 315:360,03[' ]| nor could she for many hours, learn to think of it less 315:360,04[' ]| than incessantly. 315:360,04@a | Lady*Catherine it appeared, had 315:360,05@a | actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings, 315:360,06@a | for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement 315:360,07@a | with Mr%*Darcy. It was a rational scheme to be 315:360,08@a | sure! 315:360,08[' ]| but from what the report of their engagement could 315:360,09[' ]| originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine; till she 315:360,10[' ]| recollected that 315:360,10@a | \his\ being the intimate friend of Bingley, 315:360,11@a | and \her\ being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time 315:360,12@a | when the expectation of one wedding, made every*body 315:360,13@a | eager for another, to supply the idea. 315:360,13[' ]| She had not herself 315:360,14[' ]| forgotten to feel that 315:360,14@a | the marriage of her sister must bring 315:360,15@a | them more frequently together. And her neighbours at 315:360,16@a | Lucas*lodge, therefore, (for through their communication 315:360,17@a | with the Collinses, the report 315:360,17[' ]| she concluded 315:360,17@a | had reached 315:360,18@a | lady*Catherine) had only set \that\ down, as almost certain 315:360,19@a | and immediate, which \she\ had looked forward to as possible, 315:360,20@a | at some future time. 315:360,21[' ]| In revolving lady*Catherine's expressions, however, she 315:360,22[' ]| could not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible 315:360,23[' ]| consequence of her persisting in this interference. From 315:360,24[' ]| what she had said of her resolution to prevent their 315:360,25[' ]| marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate 315:360,26[' ]| an application to her nephew; and how \he\ might take 315:360,27[' ]| a similar representation of the evils attached to a connection 315:360,28[' ]| with her, she dared not pronounce. She knew not 315:360,29[' ]| the exact degree of his affection for his aunt, or his dependence 315:360,30[' ]| on her judgment, but 315:360,30@a | it was natural to suppose 315:360,31@a | that he thought much higher of her ladyship than \she\ 315:360,32@a | could do; and it was certain, that in enumerating the 315:361,01@a | miseries of a marriage with \one\, whose immediate connections 315:361,02@a | were so unequal to his own, his aunt would address 315:361,03@a | him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he 315:361,04@a | would probable feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth 315:361,05@a | had appeared weak and ridiculous, contained much 315:361,06@a | good sense and solid reasoning. 315:361,07@a | If he had been wavering before, as to what he should 315:361,08@a | do, which had often seemed likely, the advice and intreaty 315:361,09@a | of so near a relation might settle every doubt, and determine 315:361,10@a | him at once to be as happy, as dignity unblemished 315:361,11@a | could make him. In that case he would return no more. 315:361,12@a | Lady*Catherine might see him in her way through town; 315:361,13@a | and his engagement to Bingley of coming again to Netherfield 315:361,14@a | must give way. 315:361,15@a | "If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise, 315:361,16@a | should come to his friend within a few days," 315:361,16[' ]| she added, 315:361,17@a | "I shall know how to understand it. I shall then give 315:361,18@a | over every expectation, every wish of his constancy. If 315:361,19@a | he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might 315:361,20@a | have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease 315:361,21@a | to regret him at all." 315:361,22[' ]| ~~~ 315:361,23[' ]| The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who 315:361,24[' ]| their visitor had been, was very great; but they obligingly 315:361,25[' ]| satisfied it, with the same kind of supposition, which had 315:361,26[' ]| appeased Mrs%*Bennet's curiosity; and Elizabeth was 315:361,27[' ]| spared from much teazing on the subject. 315:361,28[' ]| The next morning, as she was going down*stairs, she 315:361,29[' ]| was met by her father, who came out of his library with 315:361,30[' ]| a letter in his hand. 315:361,31[C ]| "Lizzy," 315:361,31[' ]| said he, 315:361,31[C ]| "I was going to look for you; come 315:361,32[C ]| into my room." 315:361,33[' ]| She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know 315:361,34[' ]| what he had to tell her, was heightened by the supposition 315:361,35[' ]| of its being in some manner connected with the letter he 315:361,36[' ]| held. It suddenly struck her that it might be from lady*Catherine; 315:361,37[' ]| and she anticipated with dismay all the 315:361,38[' ]| consequent explanations. 315:362,01[' ]| She followed her father to the fire*place, and they both 315:362,02[' ]| sat down. He then said, 315:362,03[C ]| "I have received a letter this morning that has astonished 315:362,04[C ]| me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, 315:362,05[C ]| you ought to know its contents. I did not know before, 315:362,06[C ]| that I had \two\ daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let 315:362,07[C ]| me congratulate you, on a very important conquest." 315:362,08[' ]| The colour now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks in the 315:362,09[' ]| instantaneous conviction of its being a letter from the 315:362,10[' ]| nephew, instead of the aunt; and she was undetermined 315:362,11[' ]| whether most to be pleased that he explained himself at 315:362,12[' ]| all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to 315:362,13[' ]| herself; when her father continued, 315:362,14[C ]| "You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration 315:362,15[C ]| in such matters as these; but I think I may defy 315:362,16[C ]| even \your\ sagacity, to discover the name of your admirer. 315:362,17[C ]| This letter is from Mr%*Collins." 315:362,18[A ]| "From Mr%*Collins! and what can \he\ have to say?" 315:362,19[C ]| "Something very much to the purpose of course. He 315:362,20[C ]| begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials 315:362,21[C ]| of my eldest daughter, of which it seems he has been told, 315:362,22[C ]| by some of the good-natured, gossiping Lucases. I shall 315:362,23[C ]| not sport with your impatience, by reading what he says 315:362,24[C ]| on that point. What relates to yourself, is as follows. 315:362,25[K ]| "Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations of 315:362,26[K ]| Mrs%*Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now 315:362,27[K ]| add a short hint on the subject of another; of which 315:362,28[K ]| we have been advertised by the same authority. Your 315:362,29[K ]| daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the 315:362,30[K ]| name of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, 315:362,31[K ]| and the chosen partner of her fate, may be reasonably 315:362,32[K ]| looked up to, as one of the most illustrious personages 315:362,33[K ]| in this land." 315:362,34[C ]| "Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by 315:362,35[C ]| this?" 315:362,35[K ]| "This young gentleman is blessed in a peculiar 315:362,36[K ]| way, with every*thing the heart of mortal can most 315:362,37[K ]| desire, ~~ splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive 315:362,38[K ]| patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me 315:363,01[K ]| warn my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you 315:363,02[K ]| may incur, by a precipitate closure with this gentleman's 315:363,03[K ]| proposals, which, of course, you will be inclined to take 315:363,04[K ]| immediate advantage of." 315:363,05[C ]| "Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? 315:363,06[C ]| But now it comes out." 315:363,07[K ]| "My motive for cautioning you, is as follows. We have 315:363,08[K ]| reason to imagine that his aunt, lady*Catherine*de*Bourgh, 315:363,09[K ]| does not look on the match with a friendly eye." 315:363,10[C ]| "\Mr%*Darcy\, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think 315:363,11[C ]| I \have\ surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have 315:363,12[C ]| pitched on any man, within the circle of our acquaintance, 315:363,13[C ]| whose name would have given the lie more effectually to 315:363,14[C ]| what they related? Mr%*Darcy, who never looks at any 315:363,15[C ]| woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never 315:363,16[C ]| looked at \you\ in his life! It is admirable!" 315:363,17[' ]| Elizabeth tried to join in her father's pleasantry, but 315:363,18[' ]| could only force one most reluctant smile. Never had his 315:363,19[' ]| wit been directed in a manner so little agreeable to her. 315:363,20[C ]| "Are you not diverted?" 315:363,21[A ]| "Oh! yes. Pray read on." 315:363,22[K ]| "After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to 315:363,23[K ]| her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual 315:363,24[K ]| condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; 315:363,25[K ]| when it became apparent, that on the score of some family 315:363,26[K ]| objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give 315:363,27[K ]| her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. 315:363,28[K ]| I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of 315:363,29[K ]| this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be 315:363,30[K ]| aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into 315:363,31[K ]| a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned." 315:363,32[C ]| "Mr%*Collins moreover adds," 315:363,32[K ]| "I am truly rejoiced that 315:363,33[K ]| my cousin Lydia's sad business has been so well hushed 315:363,34[K ]| up, and am only concerned that their living together 315:363,35[K ]| before the marriage took place, should be so generally 315:363,36[K ]| known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my 315:363,37[K ]| station, or refrain from declaring my amazement, at 315:363,38[K ]| hearing that you received the young couple into your 315:364,01[K ]| house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement 315:364,02[K ]| of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, 315:364,03[K ]| I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought 315:364,04[K ]| certainly to forgive them as a christian, but never to 315:364,05[K ]| admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be 315:364,06[K ]| mentioned in your hearing." 315:364,06[C ]| "\That\ is his notion of 315:364,07[C ]| christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about 315:364,08[C ]| his dear Charlotte's situation, and his expectation of a 315:364,09[C ]| young olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did 315:364,10[C ]| not enjoy it. You are not going to be \Missish\, I hope, 315:364,11[C ]| and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what 315:364,12[C ]| do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and 315:364,13[C ]| laugh at them in our turn?" 315:364,14[A ]| "Oh!" 315:364,14[' ]| cried Elizabeth, 315:364,14[A ]| "I am excessively diverted. 315:364,15[A ]| But it is so strange!" 315:364,15[C ]| "Yes ~~ \that\ is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed 315:364,16[C ]| on any other man it would have been nothing; but \his\ 315:364,17[C ]| perfect indifference, and \your\ pointed dislike, make it so 315:364,18[C ]| delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I would 315:364,19[C ]| not give up Mr%*Collins's correspondence for any consideration. 315:364,20[C ]| Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot 315:364,21[C ]| help giving him the preference even over Wickham, much 315:364,22[C ]| as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law. 315:364,23[C ]| And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady*Catherine about this 315:364,24[C ]| report? Did she call to refuse her consent?" 315:364,25[' ]| To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; 315:364,26[' ]| and as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she 315:364,27[' ]| was not distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had 315:364,28[' ]| never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear 315:364,29[' ]| what they were not. It was necessary to laugh, when 315:364,30[' ]| she would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly 315:364,31[' ]| mortified her, by what he said of Mr%*Darcy's indifference, 315:364,32[' ]| and she could do nothing but wonder at such a want of 315:364,33[' ]| penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead of his seeing 315:364,32[' ]| too \little\, she might have fancied too \much\. 316:365,01[' ]| Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his 316:365,02[' ]| friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr%*Bingley to do, he 316:365,03[' ]| was able to bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before 316:365,04[' ]| many days had passed after Lady*Catherine's visit. The 316:365,05[' ]| gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs%*Bennet had 316:365,06[' ]| time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which 316:365,07[' ]| her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who 316:365,08[' ]| wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking 316:365,09[' ]| out. It was agreed to. Mrs%*Bennet was not in the habit 316:365,10[' ]| of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining 316:365,11[' ]| five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon 316:365,12[' ]| allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, 316:365,13[' ]| while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy, were to entertain each 316:365,14[' ]| other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too 316:365,15[' ]| much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly 316:365,16[' ]| forming a desperate resolution; and perhaps he might be 316:365,17[' ]| doing the same. 316:365,18[' ]| They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty wished 316:365,19[' ]| to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion 316:365,20[' ]| for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them, she 316:365,21[' ]| went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment 316:365,22[' ]| for her resolution to be executed, and, while her courage 316:365,23[' ]| was high, she immediately said, 316:365,24[A ]| "Mr%*Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the 316:365,25[A ]| sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how 316:365,26[A ]| much I may be wounding your's. I can no longer help 316:365,27[A ]| thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor 316:365,28[A ]| sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most 316:365,29[A ]| anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. 316:365,30[A ]| Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have 316:365,31[A ]| merely my own gratitude to express." 316:365,32[B ]| "I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," 316:365,32[' ]| replied Darcy, in 316:365,33[' ]| a tone of surprise and emotion, 316:365,33[B ]| "that you have ever 316:365,34[B ]| been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have 316:366,01[B ]| given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs%*Gardiner was 316:366,02[B ]| so little to be trusted." 316:366,03[A ]| "You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness 316:365,04[A ]| first betrayed to me that you had been concerned 316:366,05[A ]| in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew 316:366,06[A ]| the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in 316:366,07[A ]| the name of all my family, for that generous compassion 316:366,08[A ]| which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so 316:366,09[A ]| many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them." 316:366,10[B ]| "If you \will\ thank me," 316:366,10[' ]| he replied, 316:366,10[B ]| "let it be for yourself 316:366,11[B ]| alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you, might 316:366,12[B ]| add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall 316:366,13[B ]| not attempt to deny. But your \family\ owe me nothing. 316:366,14[B ]| Much as I respect them, I believe, I thought only of \you\." 316:366,15[' ]| Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. 316:366,16[' ]| After a short pause, her companion added, 316:366,16[B ]| "You are too 316:366,17[B ]| generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what 316:366,18[B ]| they were last April, tell me so at once. \My\ affections 316:366,19[B ]| and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will 316:366,20[B ]| silence me on this subject for*ever." 316:366,21[' ]| Elizabeth feeling all the more than common awkwardness 316:366,22[' ]| and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to 316:366,23[' ]| speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave 316:366,24[' ]| him to understand, that her sentiments had undergone so 316:366,25[' ]| material a change, since the period to which he alluded, 316:366,26[' ]| as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure, his 316:366,27[' ]| present assurances. The happiness which this reply 316:366,28[' ]| produced, was such as he had probably never felt before; 316:366,29[' ]| and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and 316:366,30[' ]| as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to 316:366,31[' ]| do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye, she 316:366,32[' ]| might have seen how well the expression of heart-felt 316:366,33[' ]| delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though 316:366,34[' ]| she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of 316:366,35[' ]| feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was 316:366,36[' ]| to him, made his affection every moment more valuable. 316:366,37[' ]| They walked on, without knowing in what direction. 316:366,38[' ]| There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, 316:367,01[' ]| for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that 316:367,02[' ]| they were indebted for their present good understanding 316:367,03[' ]| to the efforts of his aunt, who \did\ call on him in her 316:367,04[' ]| return through London, and there relate her journey to 316:367,05[' ]| Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation 316:367,06[' ]| with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every 316:367,07[' ]| expression of the latter, which, in her ladyship's apprehension, 316:367,08[' ]| peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, 316:367,09[' ]| in the belief that such a relation must assist her 316:367,10[' ]| endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew, 316:367,11[' ]| which \she\ had refused to give. But, unluckily for her 316:367,12[' ]| ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise. 316:367,13[B ]| "It taught me to hope," 316:367,13[' ]| said he, 316:367,13[B ]| "as I had scarcely 316:367,14[B ]| ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of 316:367,15[B ]| your disposition to be certain, that, had you been absolutely, 316:367,16[B ]| irrevocably decided against me, you would have 316:367,17[B ]| acknowledged it to Lady*Catherine, frankly and openly." 316:367,18[' ]| Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, 316:367,18[A ]| "Yes, 316:367,19[A ]| you know enough of my \frankness\ to believe me capable 316:367,20[A ]| of \that\. After abusing you so abominably to your face, 316:367,21[A ]| I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations." 316:367,22[B ]| "What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? 316:367,23[B ]| For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed 316:367,24[B ]| on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time, 316:367,25[B ]| had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. 316:367,26[B ]| I cannot think of it without abhorrence." 316:367,27[A ]| "We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame 316:367,28[A ]| annexed to that evening," 316:367,28[' ]| said Elizabeth. 316:367,28[A ]| "The conduct 316:367,29[A ]| of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; 316:367,30[A ]| but since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility." 316:367,31[B ]| "I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The 316:367,32[B ]| recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my 316:367,33[B ]| manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, 316:367,34[B ]| and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. 316:367,35[B ]| Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: 316:367,35@a | ""had 316:367,36@a | you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner."" 316:367,36[B ]| Those 316:367,37[B ]| were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, 316:367,38[B ]| how they have tortured me; ~~ though it was some 316:368,01[B ]| time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow 316:368,02[B ]| their justice." 316:368,03[A ]| "I was certainly very far from expecting them to make 316:368,04[A ]| so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of 316:368,05[A ]| their being ever felt in such a way." 316:368,06[B ]| "I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid 316:368,07[B ]| of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of 316:368,08[B ]| your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that 316:368,09[B ]| I could not have addressed you in any possible way, that 316:368,10[B ]| would induce you to accept me." 316:368,11[A ]| "Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections 316:368,12[A ]| will not do at all. I assure you, that I have long 316:368,13[A ]| been most heartily ashamed of it." 316:368,14[' ]| Darcy mentioned his letter. 316:368,14[B ]| "Did it," 316:368,14[' ]| said he, 316:368,14[B ]| "did 316:368,15[B ]| it \soon\ make you think better of me? Did you, on reading 316:368,16[B ]| it, give any credit to its contents?" 316:368,17[' ]| She explained what its effect on her had been, and how 316:368,18[' ]| gradually all her former prejudices had been removed. 316:368,19[B ]| "I knew," 316:368,19[' ]| said he, 316:368,19[B ]| "that what I wrote must give you 316:368,20[B ]| pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed 316:368,21[B ]| the letter. There was one part especially, the opening 316:368,22[B ]| of it, which I should dread your having the power of 316:368,23[B ]| reading again. I can remember some expressions which 316:368,24[B ]| might justly make you hate me." 316:368,25[A ]| "The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it 316:368,26[A ]| essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though 316:368,27[A ]| we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely 316:368,28[A ]| unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed 316:368,29[A ]| as that implies." 316:368,30[B ]| "When I wrote that letter," 316:368,30[' ]| replied Darcy, 316:368,30[B ]| "I believed 316:368,31[B ]| myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced 316:368,32[B ]| that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit." 316:368,33[A ]| "The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did 316:368,34[A ]| not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no 316:368,35[A ]| more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, 316:368,36[A ]| and the person who received it, are now so widely different 316:368,37[A ]| from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance 316:368,38[A ]| attending it, ought to be forgotten. You must 316:369,01[A ]| learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as 316:369,02[A ]| its remembrance gives you pleasure." 316:369,03[B ]| "I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the 316:369,04[B ]| kind. \Your\ retrospections must be so totally void of 316:369,05[B ]| reproach, that the contentment arising from then, is not 316:369,06[B ]| of philosophy, but what is much better, of ignorance. 316:369,07[B ]| But with \me\, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude, 316:369,08[B ]| which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have 316:369,09[B ]| been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in 316:369,10[B ]| principle. As a child I was taught what was \right\, but 316:369,11[B ]| I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good 316:369,12[B ]| principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. 316:369,13[B ]| Unfortunately an only son, (for many years an only \child\) 316:369,14[B ]| I was spoilt by my parents, who though good themselves, 316:369,15[B ]| (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and 316:369,16[B ]| amiable,) allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be 316:369,17[B ]| selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own 316:369,18[B ]| family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, 316:369,19[B ]| to \wish\ at least to think meanly of their sense and worth 316:369,20[B ]| compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight*and*twenty; 316:369,21[B ]| and such I might still have been but for 316:369,22[B ]| you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! 316:369,23[B ]| You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most 316:369,24[B ]| advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came 316:369,25[B ]| to you without a doubt of my reception. You shewed 316:369,26[B ]| me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please 316:369,27[B ]| a woman worthy of being pleased." 316:369,28[A ]| "Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?" 316:369,29[B ]| "Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? 316:369,30[B ]| I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses." 316:369,31[A ]| "My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally 316:369,32[A ]| I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but 316:369,33[A ]| my spirits might often lead me wrong. How you must 316:369,34[A ]| have hated me after \that\ evening?" 316:369,35[B ]| "Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my 316:369,36[B ]| anger soon began to take a proper direction." 316:369,37[A ]| "I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me; 316:369,38[A ]| when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?" 316:370,01[B ]| "No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise." 316:370,02[A ]| "Your surprise could not be greater than \mine\ in being 316:370,03[A ]| noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved 316:370,04[A ]| no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not 316:370,05[A ]| expect to receive \more\ than my due." 316:370,06[B ]| "My object \then\," 316:370,06[' ]| replied Darcy, 316:370,06[B ]| "was to shew you, 316:370,07[B ]| by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as 316:370,08[B ]| to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, 316:370,09[B ]| to lessen your ill*opinion, by letting you see 316:370,10[B ]| that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon 316:370,11[B ]| any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, 316:370,12[B ]| but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you." 316:370,13[' ]| He then told her of Georgiana's delight in her acquaintance, 316:370,14[' ]| and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption; 316:370,15[' ]| which naturally leading to the cause of that 316:370,16[' ]| interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution, of following 316:370,17[' ]| her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister, had been 316:370,18[' ]| formed before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity 316:370,19[' ]| and thoughtfulness there, had arisen from no other 316:370,20[' ]| struggles than what such a purpose must comprehend. 316:370,21[' ]| She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too 316:370,22[' ]| painful a subject to each, to be dwelt on farther. 316:370,23[' ]| After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and 316:370,24[' ]| too busy to know any*thing about it, they found at last, on 316:370,25[' ]| examining their watches, that it was time to be at home. 316:370,26[A ]| "What could become of Mr%*Bingley and Jane!" 316:370,27[' ]| was a wonder which introduced the discussion of \their\ 316:370,28[' ]| affairs. Darcy was delighted with their engagement; his 316:370,29[' ]| friend had given him the earliest information of it. 316:370,30[A ]| "I must ask whether you were surprised?" 316:370,30[' ]| said 316:370,31[' ]| Elizabeth. 316:370,32[B ]| "Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would 316:370,33[B ]| soon happen." 316:370,34[A ]| "That is to say, you had given your permission. I 316:370,35[A ]| guessed as much." 316:370,35[' ]| And though he exclaimed at the term, 316:370,36[' ]| she found that it had been pretty much the case. 316:370,37[B ]| "On the evening before my going to London," 316:370,37[' ]| said he 316:370,38[B ]| "I made a confession to him, which I believe I ought to 316:371,01[B ]| have made long ago. I told him of all that had occurred 316:371,02[B ]| to make my former interference in his affairs, absurd 316:371,03[B ]| and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never 316:371,04[B ]| had the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that 316:371,05[B ]| I believed myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, 316:371,06[B ]| that your sister was indifferent to him; and as I could 316:317,07[B ]| easily perceive that his attachment to her was unabated, 316:371,08[B ]| I felt no doubt of their happiness together." 316:317,09[' ]| Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of 316:371,10[' ]| directing his friend. 316:371,11[A ]| "Did you speak from your own observation," 316:371,11[' ]| said she, 316:371,12[A ]| "when you told him that my sister loved him, or merely 316:371,13[A ]| from my information last spring?" 316:371,14[B ]| "From the former. I had narrowly observed her during 316:371,15[B ]| the two visits which I had lately made her here; and 316:371,16[B ]| I was convinced of her affection." 316:371,17[A ]| "And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate 316:371,18[A ]| conviction to him." 316:371,19[B ]| "It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His 316:371,20[B ]| diffidence had prevented his depending on his own judgment 316:371,21[B ]| in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine, made 316:371,22[B ]| every*thing easy. I was obliged to confess one thing, 316:371,23[B ]| which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could 316:371,24[B ]| not allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in 316:371,25[B ]| town three months last winter, that I had known it, and 316:371,26[B ]| purposely kept it from him. He was angry. But his 316:371,27[B ]| anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained 316:371,28[B ]| in any doubt of your sister's sentiments. He has heartily 316:371,29[B ]| forgiven me now." 316:371,30[' ]| Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr%*Bingley had been 316:371,31[' ]| a most delightful friend; so easily guided that his worth 316:371,32[' ]| was invaluable; but she checked herself. She remembered 316:371,33[' ]| that he had yet to learn to be laught at, and it 316:371,34[' ]| was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness 316:371,35[' ]| of Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only 316:371,36[' ]| to his own, he continued the conversation till they reached 316:371,37[' ]| the house. In the hall they parted. 317:372,01[E ]| "My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking 317:372,02[E ]| to?" 317:372,02[' ]| was a question which Elizabeth received from Jane 317:372,03[' ]| as soon as she entered the room, and from all the others 317:372,04[' ]| when they sat down to table. She had only to say in 317:372,05[' ]| reply, that they had wandered about, till she was beyond 317:372,06[' ]| her own knowledge. She coloured as she spoke; but 317:372,07[' ]| neither that, nor any*thing else, awakened a suspicion of 317:372,08[' ]| the truth. 317:372,09[' ]| The evening passed quietly, unmarked by any*thing 317:372,10[' ]| extraordinary. The acknowledged lovers talked and 317:372,11[' ]| laughed, the unacknowledged were silent. Darcy was not 317:372,12[' ]| of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth; 317:372,13[' ]| and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather \knew\ that 317:372,14[' ]| she was happy, than \felt\ herself to be so; for, besides the 317:372,15[' ]| immediate embarrassment, there were other evils before 317:372,16[' ]| her. She anticipated what would be felt in the family when 317:372,17[' ]| her situation became known; she was aware that no*one 317:372,18[' ]| liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others 317:372,19[' ]| it was a \dislike\ which not all his fortune and consequence 317:372,20[' ]| might do away. 317:372,21[' ]| At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion 317:372,22[' ]| was very far from Miss*Bennet's general habits, she 317:372,23[' ]| was absolutely incredulous here. 317:372,24[E ]| "You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! ~~ engaged to 317:372,25[E ]| Mr%*Darcy! No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know 317:372,26[E ]| it to be impossible." 317:372,27[A ]| "This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence 317:372,28[A ]| was on you; and I am sure nobody else will believe 317:372,29[A ]| me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak 317:372,30[A ]| nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we are 317:372,31[A ]| engaged." 317:372,32[' ]| Jane looked at her doubtingly. 317:372,32[E ]| "Oh, Lizzy! it cannot 317:372,33[E ]| be. I know how much you dislike him." 317:373,01[A ]| "You know nothing of the matter. \That\ is all to be 317:373,02[A ]| forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him so well as 317:373,03[A ]| I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is 317:373,04[A ]| unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever remember 317:373,05[A ]| it myself." 317:373,06[' ]| Miss*Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth 317:373,07[' ]| again, and more seriously assured her of its truth. 317:373,08[E ]| "Good Heaven! can it be really so! Yet now I must 317:373,09[E ]| believe you," 317:373,09[' ]| cried Jane. 317:373,09[E ]| "My dear, dear Lizzy, I would ~~ 317:373,10[E ]| I do congratulate you ~~ but are you certain? forgive the 317:373,11[E ]| question ~~ are you quite certain that you can be happy 317:373,12[E ]| with him?" 317:373,13[A ]| "There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between 317:373,14[A ]| us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the 317:373,15[A ]| world. But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have 317:373,16[A ]| such a brother?" 317:373,17[E ]| "Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley 317:373,18[E ]| or myself more delight. But we considered it, we talked 317:373,19[E ]| of it as impossible. And do you really love him quite well 317:373,20[E ]| enough? Oh, Lizzy! do any*thing rather than marry 317:373,21[E ]| without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what 317:373,22[E ]| you ought to do?" 317:373,23[A ]| "Oh, yes! You will only think I feel \more\ than I ought 317:373,24[A ]| to do, when I tell you all." 317:373,25[E ]| "What do you mean?" 317:373,26[A ]| "Why, I must confess, that I love him better than I do 317:373,27[A ]| Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry." 317:373,28[E ]| "My dearest sister, now \be\ serious. I want to talk 317:373,29[E ]| very seriously. Let me know every*thing that I am to 317:373,30[E ]| know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have 317:373,31[E ]| loved him?" 317:373,32[A ]| "It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly 317:373,33[A ]| know when it began. But I believe I must date it from 317:373,34[A ]| my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley." 317:373,35[' ]| Another intreaty that she would be serious, however, 317:373,36[' ]| produced the desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane 317:373,37[' ]| by her solemn assurances of attachment. When convinced 317:373,38[' ]| on that article, Miss*Bennet had nothing farther to wish. 317:374,01[E ]| "Now I am quite happy," 317:374,01[' ]| said she, 317:374,01[E ]| "for you will be as 317:374,02[E ]| happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were 317:374,03[E ]| it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have 317:374,04[E ]| esteemed him; but now, as Bingley's friend and your 317:374,05[E ]| husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more 317:374,06[E ]| dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very sly, very 317:374,07[E ]| reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what 317:374,08[E ]| passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that 317:374,09[E ]| I know of it, to another, not to you." 317:374,10[' ]| Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. 317:374,10@a | She had 317:374,11@a | been unwilling to mention Bingley; and the unsettled 317:374,12@a | state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the 317:374,13@a | name of his friend. But now she would no longer conceal 317:374,14@a | from her, his share in Lydia's marriage. 317:374,14[' ]| All was acknowledged, 317:374,15[' ]| and half the night spent in conversation. 317:374,16[' ]| ~~~ 317:374,17[D ]| "Good gracious!" 317:374,17[' ]| cried Mrs%*Bennet, as she stood at 317:374,18[' ]| a window the next morning, 317:374,18[D ]| "if that disagreeable Mr%*Darcy 317:374,19[D ]| is not coming here again with our dear Bingley! 317:374,20[D ]| What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always 317:374,21[D ]| coming here? I had no notion but he would go a*shooting, 317:374,22[D ]| or something or other, and not disturb us with his company. 317:374,23[D ]| What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must 317:374,24[D ]| walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley's 317:374,25[D ]| way." 317:374,26[' ]| Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient 317:374,27[' ]| a proposal; yet was really vexed that her mother should 317:374,28[' ]| be always giving him such an epithet. 317:374,29[' ]| As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so 317:374,30[' ]| expressively, and shook hands with such warmth, as left 317:374,31[' ]| no doubt of his good information; and he soon afterwards 317:374,32[' ]| said aloud, 317:374,32[I ]| "Mr%*Bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts 317:374,33[I ]| in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?" 317:374,34[D ]| "I advise Mr%*Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty," 317:374,34[' ]| said 317:374,35[' ]| Mrs%*Bennet, 317:374,35[D ]| "to walk to Oakham*Mount this morning. 317:374,36[D ]| It is a nice long walk, and Mr%*Darcy has never seen the 317:374,37[D ]| view." 317:374,38[I ]| "It may do very well for the others," 317:374,38[I ]| replied Mr%*Bingley; 317:375,01[I ]| "but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. 317:375,02[I ]| Wont it, Kitty?" 317:375,03[' ]| Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy 317:375,04[' ]| professed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, 317:375,05[' ]| and Elizabeth silently consented. As she went up*stairs 317:375,06[' ]| to get ready, Mrs%*Bennet followed her, saying, 317:375,07[D ]| "I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced 317:375,08[D ]| to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope 317:375,09[D ]| you will not mind it: it is all for Jane's sake, you know; 317:375,10[D ]| and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just 317:375,11[D ]| now and then. So, do not put yourself to inconvenience." 317:375,12[' ]| During their walk, it was resolved that Mr%*Bennet's 317:375,13[' ]| consent should be asked in the course of the evening. 317:375,14[' ]| Elizabeth reserved to herself the application for her 317:375,15[' ]| mother's. She could not determine how her mother 317:375,16[' ]| would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth 317:375,17[' ]| and grandeur would be enough to overcome her abhorrence 317:375,18[' ]| of the man. But whether she were violently set 317:375,19[' ]| against the match, or violently delighted with it, it was 317:375,20[' ]| certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to 317:375,21[' ]| do credit to her sense; and she could no more bear that 317:375,22[' ]| Mr%*Darcy should hear the first raptures of her joy, than 317:375,23[' ]| the first vehemence of her disapprobation. 317:375,24[' ]| ~~~ 317:375,25[' ]| In the evening, soon after Mr%*Bennet withdrew to the 317:375,26[' ]| library, she saw Mr%*Darcy rise also and follow him, and 317:375,27[' ]| her agitation on seeing it was extreme. She did not fear 317:375,28[' ]| her father's opposition, but he was going to be made 317:375,29[' ]| unhappy, and that it should be through her means, that 317:375,30[' ]| \she\, his favourite child, should be distressing him by her 317:375,31[' ]| choice, should be filling him with fears and regrets in 317:375,32[' ]| disposing of her, was a wretched reflection, and she sat 317:375,33[' ]| in misery till Mr%*Darcy appeared again, when, looking 317:375,34[' ]| at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few 317:375,35[' ]| minutes he approached the table where she was sitting 317:375,36[' ]| with Kitty; and, while pretending to admire her work, 317:375,37[' ]| said in a whisper, 317:375,37[B ]| "Go to your father, he wants you in 317:375,38[B ]| the library." 317:375,38[' ]| She was gone directly. 317:376,01[' ]| Her father was walking about the room, looking grave 317:376,02[' ]| and anxious. 317:376,02[C ]| "Lizzy," 317:376,02[' ]| said he, 317:376,02[C ]| "what are you doing? 317:376,03[C ]| Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? 317:376,04[C ]| Have not you always hated him?" 317:376,05[' ]| How earnestly did she then wish that her former 317:376,06[' ]| opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more 317:376,07[' ]| moderate! It would have spared her from explanations 317:376,08[' ]| and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to 317:375,09[' ]| give; but they were now necessary, and she assured him 317:376,10[' ]| with some confusion, of her attachment to Mr%*Darcy. 317:376,11[C ]| "Or in other words, you are determined to have him. 317:376,12[C ]| He is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes 317:376,13[C ]| and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you 317:376,14[C ]| happy?" 317:376,15[A ]| "Have you any other objections," 317:376,15[' ]| said Elizabeth, 317:376,15[A ]| "than 317:376,16[A ]| your belief of my indifference?" 317:376,17[C ]| "None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant 317:376,18[C ]| sort of man; but this would be nothing if you 317:376,19[C ]| really liked him." 317:376,20[A ]| "I do, I do like him," 317:376,20[' ]| she replied, with tears in her eyes, 317:376,21[A ]| "I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is 317:376,22[A ]| perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; 317:376,23[A ]| then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such 317:376,24[A ]| terms." 317:376,25[C ]| "Lizzy," 317:376,25[' ]| said her father, 317:376,25[C ]| "I have given him my consent. 317:376,26[C ]| He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never 317:376,27[C ]| dare refuse any*thing, which he condescended to ask. 317:376,28[C ]| I now give it to \you\, if you are resolved on having him. 317:376,29[C ]| But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your 317:376,30[C ]| disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither 317:376,31[C ]| happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your 317:376,32[C ]| husband; unless you looked up to him as a superior. 317:376,33[C ]| Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger 317:376,34[C ]| in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit 317:376,35[C ]| and misery. My child, let me not have the grief 317:376,36[C ]| of seeing \you\ unable to respect your partner in life. You 317:376,37[C ]| know not what you are about." 317:376,38[' ]| Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn 317:377,01[' ]| in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that 317:377,02[' ]| Mr%*Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining 317:377,03[' ]| the gradual change which her estimation of him had 317:377,04[' ]| undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection 317:377,05[' ]| was not the work of a day, but had stood the test 317:377,06[' ]| of many months suspense, and enumerating with energy 317:377,07[' ]| all his good qualities, she did conquer her father's incredulity, 317:377,08[' ]| and reconcile him to the match. 317:377,09[C ]| "Well, my dear," 317:377,09[' ]| said he, when she ceased speaking, 317:377,10[C ]| "I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves 317:377,11[C ]| you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to 317:377,12[C ]| any*one less worthy." 317:377,13[' ]| To complete the favourable impression, she then told 317:377,14[' ]| him what Mr%*Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia. 317:377,15[' ]| He heard her with astonishment. 317:377,16[C ]| "This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, 317:377,17[C ]| Darcy did every*thing; made up the match, gave the 317:377,18[C ]| money, paid the fellow's debts, and got him his commission! 317:377,19[C ]| So much the better. It will save me a world 317:377,20[C ]| of trouble and economy. Had it been your uncle's doing, 317:377,21[C ]| I must and \would\ have paid him; but these violent young 317:377,22[C ]| lovers carry every*thing their own way. I shall offer to 317:377,23[C ]| pay him to-morrow; he will rant and storm about his 317:377,24[C ]| love for you, and there will be an end of the matter." 317:377,25[' ]| He then recollected her embarrassment a few days 317:377,26[' ]| before, on his reading Mr%*Collins's letter; and after 317:377,27[' ]| laughing at her some time, allowed her at last to go ~~ 317:377,28[' ]| saying, as she quitted the room, 317:377,28[C ]| "If any young men come 317:377,29[C ]| for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure." 317:377,30[' ]| Elizabeth's mind was now relieved from a very heavy 317:377,31[' ]| weight; and, after half an hour's quiet reflection in her 317:377,32[' ]| own room, she was able to join the others with tolerable 317:377,33[' ]| composure. Every*thing was too recent for gaiety, but 317:377,34[' ]| the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer 317:377,35[' ]| any*thing material to be dreaded, and the comfort of 317:377,36[' ]| ease and familiarity would come in time. 317:377,37[' ]| When her mother went up to her dressing-room at 317:377,38[' ]| night, she followed her, and made the important communication. 317:378,01[' ]| Its effect was most extraordinary; for on 317:378,02[' ]| first hearing it, Mrs%*Bennet sat quite still, and unable to 317:378,03[' ]| utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes, 317:378,04[' ]| that she could comprehend what she heard; though not 317:378,05[' ]| in general backward to credit what was for the advantage 317:378,06[' ]| of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any 317:378,07[' ]| of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about 317:378,08[' ]| in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless 317:378,09[' ]| herself. 317:378,10[D ]| "Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear 317:378,11[D ]| me! Mr%*Darcy! Who would have thought it! And 317:378,12[D ]| is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and 317:378,13[D ]| how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, 317:378,14[D ]| what carriages you will have! Jane's is nothing to it ~~ 317:378,15[D ]| nothing at all. I am so pleased ~~ so happy. Such a charming 317:378,16[D ]| man! ~~ so handsome! so tall! ~~ Oh, my dear Lizzy! 317:378,17[D ]| pray apologise for my having disliked him so much before. 317:378,18[D ]| I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house 317:378,19[D ]| in town! Every*thing that is charming! Three daughters 317:378,20[D ]| married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will 317:378,21[D ]| become of me. I shall go distracted." 317:378,22[' ]| This was enough to prove that her approbation need 317:378,23[' ]| not be doubted: and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an 317:378,24[' ]| effusion was heard only by herself, soon went away. But 317:378,25[' ]| before she had been three minutes in her own room, her 317:378,26[' ]| mother followed her. 317:378,27[D ]| "My dearest child," 317:378,27[' ]| she cried, 317:378,27[D ]| "I can think of nothing 317:378,28[D ]| else! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! 'Tis 317:378,29[D ]| as good as a Lord! And a special licence. You must and 317:378,30[D ]| shall be married by a special licence. But my dearest 317:378,31[D ]| love, tell me what dish Mr%*Darcy is particularly fond of, 317:378,32[D ]| that I may have it to-morrow." 317:378,33[' ]| This was a sad omen of what her mother's behaviour 317:378,34[' ]| to the gentleman himself might be; and Elizabeth found, 317:378,35[' ]| that though in the certain possession of his warmest 317:378,36[' ]| affection, and secure of her relations' consent, there was 317:378,37[' ]| still something to be wished for. But the morrow passed 317:378,38[' ]| off much better than she expected; for Mrs%*Bennet 317:379,01[' ]| luckily stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that 317:379,02[' ]| she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her 317:379,03[' ]| power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference 317:379,04[' ]| for his opinion. 317:379,05[' ]| Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father 317:379,06[' ]| taking pains to get acquainted with him; and Mr%*Bennet 317:379,07[' ]| soon assured her that he was rising every hour in his 317:379,08[' ]| esteem. 317:379,09[C ]| "I admire all my three sons-in-law highly," 317:379,09[' ]| said he. 317:379,10[C ]| "Wickham, perhaps, is my favourite; but I think I shall 317:379,11[C ]| like \your\ husband quite as well as Jane's." 318:380,01[' ]| Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she 318:380,02[' ]| wanted Mr%*Darcy to account for his having ever fallen 318:380,03[' ]| in love with her. 318:380,03[A ]| "How could you begin?" 318:380,03[' ]| said she. 318:380,04[A ]| "I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you 318:380,05[A ]| had once made a beginning; but what could set you off 318:380,06[A ]| in the first place?" 318:380,07[B ]| "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or 318:380,08[B ]| the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. 318:380,09[B ]| I was in the middle before I knew that I \had\ begun." 318:380,10[A ]| "My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my 318:380,11[A ]| manners ~~ my behaviour to \you\ was at least always 318:380,12[A ]| bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without 318:380,13[A ]| rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be 318:380,14[A ]| sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?" 318:380,15[B ]| "For the liveliness of your mind, I did." 318:380,16[A ]| "You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was 318:380,17[A ]| very little less. The fact is, that you were sick of civility, 318:380,18[A ]| of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted 318:380,19[A ]| with the women who were always speaking and looking, 318:380,20[A ]| and thinking for \your\ approbation alone. I roused, and 318:380,21[A ]| interested you, because I was so unlike \them\. Had you 318:380,22[A ]| not been really amiable you would have hated me for it; 318:380,23[A ]| but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, 318:380,24[A ]| your feelings were always noble and just; and in your 318:380,25[A ]| heart, you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously 318:380,26[A ]| courted you. There ~~ I have saved you the trouble 318:380,27[A ]| of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, 318:380,28[A ]| I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you 318:380,29[A ]| knew no actual good of me ~~ but nobody thinks of \that\ 318:380,30[A ]| when they fall in love." 318:380,31[B ]| "Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to 318:380,32[B ]| Jane, while she was ill at Netherfield?" 318:381,01[A ]| "Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? 318:381,02[A ]| But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities 318:381,03[A ]| are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them 318:381,04[A ]| as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to 318:381,05[A ]| find occasions for teazing and quarrelling with you as often 318:381,06[A ]| as may be; and I shall begin directly by asking you what 318:381,07[A ]| made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What 318:381,08[A ]| made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards 318:381,09[A ]| dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did 318:381,10[A ]| you look as if you did not care about me?" 318:381,11[B ]| "Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no 318:381,12[B ]| encouragement." 318:381,13[A ]| "But I was embarrassed." 318:381,14[B ]| "And so was I." 318:381,15[A ]| "You might have talked to me more when you came 318:381,16[A ]| to dinner." 318:381,17[B ]| "A man who had felt less, might." 318:381,18[A ]| "How unlucky that you should have a reasonable 318:381,19[A ]| answer to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to 318:381,20[A ]| admit it! But I wonder how long you \would\ have gone 318:381,21[A ]| on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when you 318:381,22[A ]| \would\ have spoken, if I had not asked you! My resolution 318:381,23[A ]| of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly 318:381,24[A ]| great effect. \Too\ \much\, I am afraid; for what becomes 318:381,25[A ]| of the moral, if our comfort springs from a breach of 318:381,26[A ]| promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the subject? 318:381,27[A ]| This will never do." 318:381,28[B ]| "You need not distress yourself. The moral will be 318:381,29[B ]| perfectly fair. Lady*Catherine's unjustifiable endeavours 318:381,30[B ]| to separate us, were the means of removing all my doubts. 318:381,31[B ]| I am not indebted for my present happiness to your 318:381,32[B ]| eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in 318:381,33[B ]| a humour to wait for any opening of your's. My aunt's 318:381,34[B ]| intelligence had given me hope, and I was determined at 318:381,35[B ]| once to know every*thing." 318:381,36[A ]| "Lady*Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought 318:381,37[A ]| to make her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell 318:381,38[A ]| me, what did you come down to Netherfield for? Was 318:382,01[A ]| it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? or 318:382,02[A ]| had you intended any more serious consequence?" 318:382,03[B ]| "My real purpose was to see \you\, and to judge, if I could, 318:382,04[B ]| whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My 318:382,05[B ]| avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see 318:382,06[B ]| whether your sister were still partial to Bingley, and if she 318:382,07[B ]| were, to make the confession to him which I have since 318:382,08[B ]| made." 318:382,09[A ]| "Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady*Catherine, 318:382,10[A ]| what is to befall her?" 318:382,11[B ]| "I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. 318:382,12[B ]| But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet 318:382,13[B ]| of paper, it shall be done directly." 318:382,14[A ]| "And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit 318:382,15[A ]| by you, and admire the evenness of your writing, as 318:382,16[A ]| another young lady once did. But I have an aunt, too, 318:382,17[A ]| who must not be longer neglected." 318:382,18[' ]| From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy 318:382,19[' ]| with Mr%*Darcy had been over-rated, Elizabeth had never 318:382,20[' ]| yet answered Mrs%*Gardiner's long letter, but now, having 318:382,21[' ]| \that\ to communicate which she knew would be most 318:382,22[' ]| welcome, she was almost ashamed to find, that her uncle 318:382,23[' ]| and aunt had already lost three days of happiness, and 318:382,24[' ]| immediately wrote as follows: 318:382,25[' ]| 318:382,26[A ]| "I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as 318:382,27[A ]| I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, 318:382,28[A ]| detail of particulars; but to say the truth, I was too 318:382,29[A ]| cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. 318:382,30[A ]| But \now\ suppose as much as you chuse; give a loose to 318:382,31[A ]| your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible 318:382,32[A ]| flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe 318:382,33[A ]| me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must 318:382,34[A ]| write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more 318:382,35[A ]| than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, 318:382,36[A ]| for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as 318:382,37[A ]| to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We 318:382,38[A ]| will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest 318:383,01[A ]| creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said 318:383,02[A ]| so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier 318:383,03[A ]| even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr%*Darcy 318:383,04[A ]| sends you all the love in the world, that he can spare from 318:383,05[A ]| me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. 318:383,06[A ]| Your's, &c%" 318:383,07[A ]| 318:383,08[' ]| Mr%*Darcy's letter to Lady*Catherine, was in a different 318:383,09[' ]| style; and still different from either, was what Mr%*Bennet 318:383,10[' ]| sent to Mr%*Collins, in reply to his last. 318:383,11[' ]| 318:383,12[C ]| "DEAR SIR, 318:383,13[C ]| "I must trouble you once more for congratulations. 318:383,14[C ]| Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr%*Darcy. Console 318:383,15[C ]| Lady*Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, 318:383,16[C ]| I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give. 318:383,17[C ]| "Your's sincerely, &c%" 318:383,19[' ]| Miss*Bingley's congratulations to her brother, on his 318:383,20[' ]| approaching marriage, were all that was affectionate and 318:383,21[' ]| insincere. She wrote even to Jane on the occasion, to 318:383,22[' ]| express her delight, and repeat all her former professions 318:383,23[' ]| of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; 318:383,24[' ]| and though feeling no reliance on her, could not help 318:383,25[' ]| writing her a much kinder answer than she knew was 318:383,26[' ]| deserved. 318:383,27[' ]| The joy which Miss*Darcy expressed on receiving similar 318:383,28[' ]| information, was as sincere as her brother's in sending it. 318:383,29[' ]| Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her 318:383,30[' ]| delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her 318:383,31[' ]| sister. 318:383,32[' ]| Before any answer could arrive from Mr%*Collins, or any 318:383,33[' ]| congratulations to Elizabeth, from his wife, the Longbourn 318:383,34[' ]| family heard that the Collinses were come themselves to 318:383,35[' ]| Lucas*lodge. The reason of this sudden removal was soon 318:383,36[' ]| evident. Lady*Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly 318:383,37[' ]| angry by the contents of her nephew's letter, that 318:383,38[' ]| Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to 318:383,39[' ]| get away till the storm was blown over. At such a moment, 318:384,01[' ]| the arrival of her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, 318:384,02[' ]| though in the course of their meetings she must sometimes 318:384,03[' ]| think the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr%*Darcy 318:384,04[' ]| exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her 318:384,05[' ]| husband. He bore it however with admirable calmness. 318:384,06[' ]| He could even listen to Sir*William*Lucas, when he complimented 318:384,07[' ]| him on carrying away the brightest jewel of 318:384,08[' ]| the country, and expressed his hopes of their all meeting 318:384,09[' ]| frequently at St%*James's, with very decent composure. 318:384,10[' ]| If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir*William 318:384,11[' ]| was out of sight. 318:384,12[' ]| Mrs%*Philips's vulgarity was another, and perhaps a 318:384,13[' ]| greater tax on his forbearance; and though Mrs%*Philips, 318:384,14[' ]| as well as her sister, stood in too much awe of him to 318:384,15[' ]| speak with the familiarity which Bingley's good*humour 318:384,16[' ]| encouraged, yet, whenever she \did\ speak, she must be 318:384,17[' ]| vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her 318:384,18[' ]| more quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth 318:384,19[' ]| did all she could, to shield him from the frequent 318:384,20[' ]| notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to 318:384,21[' ]| herself, and to those of her family with whom he might 318:384,22[' ]| converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable 318:384,23[' ]| feelings arising from all this took from the season 318:384,24[' ]| of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the 318:384,25[' ]| future; and she looked forward with delight to the time 318:384,26[' ]| when they should be removed from society so little 318:384,27[' ]| pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their 318:384,28[' ]| family party at Pemberley. 319:385,01[' ]| Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on 319:385,02[' ]| which Mrs%*Bennet got rid of her two most deserving 319:385,03[' ]| daughters. With what delighted pride she afterwards 319:385,04[' ]| visited Mrs%*Bingley and talked of Mrs%*Darcy may be 319:385,05[' ]| guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, 319:385,06[' ]| that the accomplishment of her earnest desire in the 319:385,07[' ]| establishment of so many of her children, produced so 319:385,08[' ]| happy an effect as to make her a sensible, amiable, well-informed 319:385,09[' ]| woman for the rest of her life; though perhaps 319:395,10[' ]| it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished 319:385,11[' ]| domestic felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was 319:385,12[' ]| occasionally nervous and invariably silly. 319:385,13[' ]| Mr%*Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; 319:385,14[' ]| his affection for her drew him oftener from home than 319:385,15[' ]| any*thing else could do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, 319:385,16[' ]| especially when he was least expected. 319:385,17[' ]| Mr%*Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only 319:385,18[' ]| a twelvemonth. So near a vicinity to her mother and 319:385,19[' ]| Meryton relations was not desirable even to \his\ easy 319:385,20[' ]| temper, or \her\ affectionate heart. The darling wish of 319:385,21[' ]| his sisters was then gratified; he bought an estate in a 319:385,22[' ]| neighbouring county to Derbyshire, and Jane and Elizabeth, 319:385,23[' ]| in addition to every other source of happiness, were 319:385,24[' ]| within thirty miles of each other. 319:385,25[' ]| Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief 319:385,26[' ]| of her time with her two elder sisters. In society so 319:385,27[' ]| superior to what she had generally known, her improvement 319:385,28[' ]| was great. She was not of so ungovernable a temper 319:385,29[' ]| as Lydia, and, removed from the influence of Lydia's 319:385,30[' ]| example, she became, by proper attention and management, 319:385,31[' ]| less irritable, less ignorant, and less insipid. From 319:385,32[' ]| the farther disadvantage of Lydia's society she was of 319:385,33[' ]| course carefully kept, and though Mrs%*Wickham frequently 319:386,01[' ]| invited her to come and stay with her, with the 319:386,02[' ]| promise of balls and young men, her father would never 319:386,03[' ]| consent to her going. 319:386,04[' ]| Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; 319:386,05[' ]| and she was necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments 319:386,06[' ]| by Mrs%*Bennet's being quite unable to sit 319:386,07[' ]| alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, 319:386,08[' ]| but she could still moralize over every morning visit; 319:386,09[' ]| and as she was no longer mortified by comparisons between 319:386,10[' ]| her sisters' beauty and her own, it was suspected by her 319:386,11[' ]| father that she submitted to the change without much 319:386,12[' ]| reluctance. 319:386,13[' ]| As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered 319:386,14[' ]| no revolution from the marriage of her sisters. He bore 319:386,15[' ]| with philosophy the conviction that Elizabeth must now 319:386,16[' ]| become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude and 319:386,17[' ]| falsehood had before been unknown to her; and in spite 319:386,18[' ]| of every*thing, was not wholly without hope that Darcy 319:386,19[' ]| might yet be prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory 319:386,20[' ]| letter which Elizabeth received from Lydia on 319:386,21[' ]| her marriage, explained to her that, by his wife at least, 319:386,22[' ]| if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The letter 319:386,23[' ]| was to this effect: 319:386,24[' ]| 319:386,25[H ]| "MY DEAR LIZZY, 319:386,26[H ]| "I wish you joy. If you love Mr%*Darcy half as well 319:386,27[H ]| as I do my dear Wickham, you must be very happy. 319:386,28[H ]| It is a great comfort to have you so rich, and when you 319:386,29[H ]| have nothing else to do, I hope you will think of us. I am 319:386,30[H ]| sure Wickham would like a place at court very much, and 319:386,31[H ]| I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live 319:386,32[H ]| upon without some help. Any place would do, of about 319:386,33[H ]| three or four hundred a year; but, however, do not 319:386,34[H ]| speak to Mr%*Darcy about it, if you had rather not. 319:386,35[H ]| "Your's, &c%" 319:386,36[H ]| 319:386,37[' ]| As it happened that Elizabeth had \much\ rather not, 319:386,38[' ]| she endeavoured in her answer to put an end to every 319:387,01[' ]| intreaty and expectation of the kind. Such relief, however, 319:387,02[' ]| as it was in her power to afford, by the practice of 319:387,03[' ]| what might be called economy in her own private expences, 319:387,04[' ]| she frequently sent them. It had always been evident 319:387,05[' ]| to her that such an income as theirs, under the direction 319:387,06[' ]| of two persons so extravagant in their wants, and heedless 319:387,07[' ]| of the future, must be very insufficient to their support; 319:387,08[' ]| and whenever they changed their quarters, either Jane 319:387,09[' ]| or herself were sure of being applied to, for some little 319:387,10[' ]| assistance towards discharging their bills. Their manner 319:387,11[' ]| of living, even when the restoration of peace dismissed 319:387,12[' ]| them to a home, was unsettled in the extreme. They were 319:387,13[' ]| always moving from place to place in quest of a cheap 319:387,14[' ]| situation, and always spending more than they ought. 319:387,15[' ]| His affection for her soon sunk into indifference; her's 319:387,16[' ]| lasted a little longer; and in spite of her youth and her 319:387,17[' ]| manners, she retained all the claims to reputation which 319:387,18[' ]| her marriage had given her. 319:387,19[' ]| Though Darcy could never receive \him\ at Pemberley, 319:387,20[' ]| yet, for Elizabeth's sake, he assisted him farther in his 319:387,21[' ]| profession. Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when 319:387,22[' ]| her husband was gone to enjoy himself in London or 319:387,23[' ]| Bath; and with the Bingley's they both of them frequently 319:387,24[' ]| staid so long, that even Bingley's good*humour was overcome, 319:387,25[' ]| and he proceeded so far as to \talk\ of giving them 319:387,26[' ]| a hint to be gone. 319:387,27[' ]| Miss*Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy's 319:387,28[' ]| marriage; but as she thought it advisable to retain the 319:387,29[' ]| right of visiting at Pemberley, she dropt all her resentment; 319:387,30[' ]| was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as 319:387,31[' ]| attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear 319:387,32[' ]| of civility to Elizabeth. 319:387,33[' ]| Pemberley was now Georgiana's home; and the attachment 319:387,34[' ]| of the sisters was exactly what Darcy had hoped 319:387,35[' ]| to see. They were able to love each other, even as well 319:387,36[' ]| as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion in 319:387,37[' ]| the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened 319:387,38[' ]| with an astonishment bordering on alarm, at her lively, 319:388,01[' ]| sportive, manner of talking to her brother. He, who had 319:388,02[' ]| always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame 319:388,03[' ]| her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. 319:388,04[' ]| Her mind received knowledge which had never before 319:388,05[' ]| fallen in her way. By Elizabeth's instructions she began 319:388,06[' ]| to comprehend that a woman may take liberties with her 319:388,07[' ]| husband, which a brother will not always allow in a sister 319:388,08[' ]| more than ten years younger than himself. 319:388,09[' ]| Lady*Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage 319:388,10[' ]| of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine 319:388,11[' ]| frankness of her character, in her reply to the letter which 319:388,12[' ]| announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very 319:388,13[' ]| abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all 319:388,14[' ]| intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth's 319:388,15[' ]| persuasion, he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, 319:388,16[' ]| and seek a reconciliation; and, after a little farther 319:388,17[' ]| resistance on the part of his aunt, her resentment gave 319:388,18[' ]| way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity to see 319:388,19[' ]| how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended 319:388,20[' ]| to wait on them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution 319:388,21[' ]| which its woods had received, not merely from the presence 319:388,22[' ]| of such a mistress, but the visits of her uncle and aunt 319:388,23[' ]| from the city. 319:388,24[' ]| With the Gardiners, they were always on the most 319:388,25[' ]| intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved 319:388,26[' ]| them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest 319:388,27[' ]| gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into 319:388,28[' ]| Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.