bette badewanne verkleidung

chapter 26 mrs. gardiner's caution to elizabeth waspunctually and kindly given on the first favourable opportunity of speaking to heralone; after honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on: "you are too sensible a girl, lizzy, tofall in love merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, i am not afraidof speaking openly. seriously, i would have you be on yourguard. do not involve yourself or endeavour toinvolve him in an affection which the want of fortune would make so very imprudent.

i have nothing to say against him; he is amost interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, i shouldthink you could not do better. but as it is, you must not let your fancyrun away with you. you have sense, and we all expect you touse it. your father would depend on your resolutionand good conduct, i am sure. you must not disappoint your father.""my dear aunt, this is being serious indeed." "yes, and i hope to engage you to beserious likewise." "well, then, you need not be under anyalarm.

i will take care of myself, and of mr.wickham too. he shall not be in love with me, if i canprevent it." "elizabeth, you are not serious now." "i beg your pardon, i will try again.at present i am not in love with mr. wickham; no, i certainly am not. but he is, beyond all comparison, the mostagreeable man i ever saw--and if he becomes really attached to me--i believe it will bebetter that he should not. i see the imprudence of it. oh! that abominable mr. darcy!my father's opinion of me does me the

greatest honour, and i should be miserableto forfeit it. my father, however, is partial to mr.wickham. in short, my dear aunt, i should be verysorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day thatwhere there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements witheach other, how can i promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if i amtempted, or how am i even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? all that i can promise you, therefore, isnot to be in a hurry.

i will not be in a hurry to believe myselfhis first object. when i am in company with him, i will notbe wishing. in short, i will do my best.""perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very often. at least, you should not remind your motherof inviting him." "as i did the other day," said elizabethwith a conscious smile: "very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. but do not imagine that he is always hereso often. it is on your account that he has been sofrequently invited this week.

you know my mother's ideas as to thenecessity of constant company for her friends. but really, and upon my honour, i will tryto do what i think to be the wisest; and now i hope you are satisfied." her aunt assured her that she was, andelizabeth having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they parted; awonderful instance of advice being given on such a point, without being resented. mr. collins returned into hertfordshiresoon after it had been quitted by the gardiners and jane; but as he took up hisabode with the lucases, his arrival was no

great inconvenience to mrs. bennet. his marriage was now fast approaching, andshe was at length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly tosay, in an ill-natured tone, that she "wished they might be happy." thursday was to be the wedding day, and onwednesday miss lucas paid her farewell visit; and when she rose to take leave,elizabeth, ashamed of her mother's ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied herout of the room. as they went downstairs together, charlottesaid:

"i shall depend on hearing from you veryoften, eliza." "that you certainly shall.""and i have another favour to ask you. will you come and see me?" "we shall often meet, i hope, inhertfordshire." "i am not likely to leave kent for sometime. promise me, therefore, to come tohunsford." elizabeth could not refuse, though sheforesaw little pleasure in the visit. "my father and maria are coming to me inmarch," added charlotte, "and i hope you will consent to be of the party.indeed, eliza, you will be as welcome as

either of them." the wedding took place; the bride andbridegroom set off for kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, orto hear, on the subject as usual. elizabeth soon heard from her friend; andtheir correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that itshould be equally unreserved was impossible. elizabeth could never address her withoutfeeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined not toslacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, rather than whatwas.

charlotte's first letters were receivedwith a good deal of eagerness; there could not but be curiosity to know how she wouldspeak of her new home, how she would like lady catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be; though, whenthe letters were read, elizabeth felt that charlotte expressed herself on every pointexactly as she might have foreseen. she wrote cheerfully, seemed surroundedwith comforts, and mentioned nothing which she could not praise. the house, furniture, neighbourhood, androads, were all to her taste, and lady catherine's behaviour was most friendly andobliging.

it was mr. collins's picture of hunsfordand rosings rationally softened; and elizabeth perceived that she must wait forher own visit there to know the rest. jane had already written a few lines to hersister to announce their safe arrival in london; and when she wrote again, elizabethhoped it would be in her power to say something of the bingleys. her impatience for this second letter wasas well rewarded as impatience generally is.jane had been a week in town without either seeing or hearing from caroline. she accounted for it, however, by supposingthat her last letter to her friend from

longbourn had by some accident been lost. "my aunt," she continued, "is going to-morrow into that part of the town, and i shall take the opportunity of calling ingrosvenor street." she wrote again when the visit was paid,and she had seen miss bingley. "i did not think caroline in spirits," wereher words, "but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her nonotice of my coming to london. i was right, therefore, my last letter hadnever reached her. i inquired after their brother, of course.he was well, but so much engaged with mr. darcy that they scarcely ever saw him.

i found that miss darcy was expected todinner. i wish i could see her.my visit was not long, as caroline and mrs. hurst were going out. i dare say i shall see them soon here."elizabeth shook her head over this letter. it convinced her that accident only coulddiscover to mr. bingley her sister's being in town. four weeks passed away, and jane sawnothing of him. she endeavoured to persuade herself thatshe did not regret it; but she could no longer be blind to miss bingley'sinattention.

after waiting at home every morning for afortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the visitor did atlast appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more, the alteration of her manner would allow jane to deceive herself nolonger. the letter which she wrote on this occasionto her sister will prove what she felt. "my dearest lizzy will, i am sure, beincapable of triumphing in her better judgement, at my expense, when i confessmyself to have been entirely deceived in miss bingley's regard for me. but, my dear sister, though the event hasproved you right, do not think me obstinate

if i still assert that, considering whather behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. i do not at all comprehend her reason forwishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to happen again, iam sure i should be deceived again. caroline did not return my visit tillyesterday; and not a note, not a line, did i receive in the meantime. when she did come, it was very evident thatshe had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not callingbefore, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so

altered a creature, that when she went awayi was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer.i pity, though i cannot help blaming her. she was very wrong in singling me out asshe did; i can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on her side. but i pity her, because she must feel thatshe has been acting wrong, and because i am very sure that anxiety for her brother isthe cause of it. i need not explain myself farther; andthough we know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it willeasily account for her behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he is to his sister,

whatever anxiety she must feel on hisbehalf is natural and amiable. i cannot but wonder, however, at her havingany such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we must have met, longago. he knows of my being in town, i am certain,from something she said herself; and yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as ifshe wanted to persuade herself that he is really partial to miss darcy. i cannot understand it.if i were not afraid of judging harshly, i should be almost tempted to say that thereis a strong appearance of duplicity in all this.

but i will endeavour to banish everypainful thought, and think only of what will make me happy--your affection, and theinvariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. let me hear from you very soon.miss bingley said something of his never returning to netherfield again, of givingup the house, but not with any certainty. we had better not mention it. i am extremely glad that you have suchpleasant accounts from our friends at hunsford.pray go to see them, with sir william and maria.

i am sure you will be very comfortablethere.--yours, etc." this letter gave elizabeth some pain; buther spirits returned as she considered that jane would no longer be duped, by thesister at least. all expectation from the brother was nowabsolutely over. she would not even wish for a renewal ofhis attentions. his character sunk on every review of it;and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible advantage to jane, she seriouslyhoped he might really soon marry mr. darcy's sister, as by wickham's account, she would make him abundantly regret whathe had thrown away.

mrs. gardiner about this time remindedelizabeth of her promise concerning that gentleman, and required information; andelizabeth had such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than toherself. his apparent partiality had subsided, hisattentions were over, he was the admirer of some one else. elizabeth was watchful enough to see itall, but she could see it and write of it without material pain. her heart had been but slightly touched,and her vanity was satisfied with believing that she would have been his only choice,had fortune permitted it.

the sudden acquisition of ten thousandpounds was the most remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now renderinghimself agreeable; but elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than in charlotte's, did not quarrel with him forhis wish of independence. nothing, on the contrary, could be morenatural; and while able to suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her,she was ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could verysincerely wish him happy. all this was acknowledged to mrs. gardiner;and after relating the circumstances, she thus went on: "i am now convinced, my dearaunt, that i have never been much in love;

for had i really experienced that pure and elevating passion, i should at presentdetest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. but my feelings are not only cordialtowards him; they are even impartial towards miss king. i cannot find out that i hate her at all,or that i am in the least unwilling to think her a very good sort of girl.there can be no love in all this. my watchfulness has been effectual; andthough i certainly should be a more interesting object to all my acquaintanceswere i distractedly in love with him, i

cannot say that i regret my comparativeinsignificance. importance may sometimes be purchased toodearly. kitty and lydia take his defection muchmore to heart than i do. they are young in the ways of the world,and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men musthave something to live on as well as the plain." > chapter 27 with no greater events than these in thelongbourn family, and otherwise diversified

by little beyond the walks to meryton,sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did january and february pass away. march was to take elizabeth to hunsford. she had not at first thought very seriouslyof going thither; but charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the plan and shegradually learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as greatercertainty. absence had increased her desire of seeingcharlotte again, and weakened her disgust of mr. collins. there was novelty in the scheme, and as,with such a mother and such uncompanionable

sisters, home could not be faultless, alittle change was not unwelcome for its own sake. the journey would moreover give her a peepat jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have been very sorry forany delay. everything, however, went on smoothly, andwas finally settled according to charlotte's first sketch.she was to accompany sir william and his second daughter. the improvement of spending a night inlondon was added in time, and the plan became perfect as plan could be.

the only pain was in leaving her father,who would certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked hergoing, that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter. the farewell between herself and mr.wickham was perfectly friendly; on his side even more. his present pursuit could not make himforget that elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, thefirst to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment,reminding her of what she was to expect in

lady catherine de bourgh, and trustingtheir opinion of her--their opinion of everybody--would always coincide, there was a solicitude, an interest which she feltmust ever attach her to him with a most sincere regard; and she parted from himconvinced that, whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiableand pleasing. her fellow-travellers the next day were notof a kind to make her think him less agreeable. sir william lucas, and his daughter maria,a good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say that couldbe worth hearing, and were listened to with

about as much delight as the rattle of thechaise. elizabeth loved absurdities, but she hadknown sir william's too long. he could tell her nothing new of thewonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were worn out, like hisinformation. it was a journey of only twenty-four miles,and they began it so early as to be in gracechurch street by noon. as they drove to mr. gardiner's door, janewas at a drawing-room window watching their arrival; when they entered the passage shewas there to welcome them, and elizabeth, looking earnestly in her face, was pleasedto see it healthful and lovely as ever.

on the stairs were a troop of little boysand girls, whose eagerness for their cousin's appearance would not allow them towait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her for atwelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. all was joy and kindness. the day passed most pleasantly away; themorning in bustle and shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.elizabeth then contrived to sit by her their first object was her sister; and shewas more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to her minute inquiries, thatthough jane always struggled to support her spirits, there were periods of dejection.

it was reasonable, however, to hope thatthey would not continue long. mrs. gardiner gave her the particulars alsoof miss bingley's visit in gracechurch street, and repeated conversationsoccurring at different times between jane and herself, which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up theacquaintance. mrs. gardiner then rallied her niece onwickham's desertion, and complimented her on bearing it so well. "but my dear elizabeth," she added, "whatsort of girl is miss king? i should be sorry to think our friendmercenary."

"pray, my dear aunt, what is the differencein matrimonial affairs, between the mercenary and the prudent motive?where does discretion end, and avarice begin? last christmas you were afraid of hismarrying me, because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a girlwith only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is mercenary." "if you will only tell me what sort of girlmiss king is, i shall know what to think." "she is a very good kind of girl, ibelieve. i know no harm of her."

"but he paid her not the smallest attentiontill her grandfather's death made her mistress of this fortune.""no--what should he? if it were not allowable for him to gain myaffections because i had no money, what occasion could there be for making love toa girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally poor?" "but there seems an indelicacy in directinghis attentions towards her so soon after this event." "a man in distressed circumstances has nottime for all those elegant decorums which other people may observe.if she does not object to it, why should

we?" "her not objecting does not justify him.it only shows her being deficient in something herself--sense or feeling.""well," cried elizabeth, "have it as you choose. he shall be mercenary, and she shall befoolish." "no, lizzy, that is what i do not choose. i should be sorry, you know, to think illof a young man who has lived so long in derbyshire." "oh! if that is all, i have a very pooropinion of young men who live in

derbyshire; and their intimate friends wholive in hertfordshire are not much better. i am sick of them all. thank heaven!i am going to-morrow where i shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, whohas neither manner nor sense to recommend him. stupid men are the only ones worth knowing,after all." "take care, lizzy; that speech savoursstrongly of disappointment." before they were separated by theconclusion of the play, she had the unexpected happiness of an invitation toaccompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of

pleasure which they proposed taking in thesummer. "we have not determined how far it shallcarry us," said mrs. gardiner, "but, perhaps, to the lakes." no scheme could have been more agreeable toelizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful."oh, my dear, dear aunt," she rapturously cried, "what delight! what felicity! you give me fresh life and vigour.adieu to disappointment and spleen. what are young men to rocks and mountains?oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! and when we do return, it shall not be likeother travellers, without being able to

give one accurate idea of anything.we will know where we have gone--we will recollect what we have seen. lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not bejumbled together in our imaginations; nor when we attempt to describe any particularscene, will we begin quarreling about its relative situation. let our first effusions be lessinsupportable than those of the generality of travellers." chapter 28 every object in the next day's journey wasnew and interesting to elizabeth; and her

spirits were in a state of enjoyment; forshe had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, and the prospect of her northern tour was aconstant source of delight. when they left the high road for the laneto hunsford, every eye was in search of the parsonage, and every turning expected tobring it in view. the palings of rosings park was theirboundary on one side. elizabeth smiled at the recollection of allthat she had heard of its inhabitants. at length the parsonage was discernible. the garden sloping to the road, the housestanding in it, the green pales, and the

laurel hedge, everything declared they werearriving. mr. collins and charlotte appeared at thedoor, and the carriage stopped at the small gate which led by a short gravel walk tothe house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. in a moment they were all out of thechaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. mrs. collins welcomed her friend with theliveliest pleasure, and elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming when shefound herself so affectionately received. she saw instantly that her cousin's mannerswere not altered by his marriage; his

formal civility was just what it had been,and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiriesafter all her family. they were then, with no other delay thanhis pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soonas they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, andpunctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment. elizabeth was prepared to see him in hisglory; and she could not help in fancying that in displaying the good proportion ofthe room, its aspect and its furniture, he

addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she hadlost in refusing him. but though everything seemed neat andcomfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance, and ratherlooked with wonder at her friend that she could have so cheerful an air with such acompanion. when mr. collins said anything of which hiswife might reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, sheinvoluntarily turned her eye on charlotte. once or twice she could discern a faintblush; but in general charlotte wisely did not hear.

after sitting long enough to admire everyarticle of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an accountof their journey, and of all that had happened in london, mr. collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, whichwas large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself. to work in this garden was one of his mostrespectable pleasures; and elizabeth admired the command of countenance withwhich charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she encouragedit as much as possible. here, leading the way through every walkand cross walk, and scarcely allowing them

an interval to utter the praises he askedfor, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirelybehind. he could number the fields in everydirection, and could tell how many trees there were in the most distant clump. but of all the views which his garden, orwhich the country or kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the prospectof rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearlyopposite the front of his house. it was a handsome modern building, wellsituated on rising ground. from his garden, mr. collins would have ledthem round his two meadows; but the ladies,

not having shoes to encounter the remainsof a white frost, turned back; and while sir william accompanied him, charlotte took her sister and friend over the house,extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without herhusband's help. it was rather small, but well built andconvenient; and everything was fitted up and arranged with a neatness andconsistency of which elizabeth gave charlotte all the credit. when mr. collins could be forgotten, therewas really an air of great comfort throughout, and by charlotte's evidentenjoyment of it, elizabeth supposed he must

be often forgotten. she had already learnt that lady catherinewas still in the country. it was spoken of again while they were atdinner, when mr. collins joining in, observed: "yes, miss elizabeth, you will have thehonour of seeing lady catherine de bourgh on the ensuing sunday at church, and i neednot say you will be delighted with her. she is all affability and condescension,and i doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice whenservice is over. i have scarcely any hesitation in sayingshe will include you and my sister maria in

every invitation with which she honours usduring your stay here. her behaviour to my dear charlotte ischarming. we dine at rosings twice every week, andare never allowed to walk home. her ladyship's carriage is regularlyordered for us. i should say, one of her ladyship'scarriages, for she has several." "lady catherine is a very respectable,sensible woman indeed," added charlotte, "and a most attentive neighbour.""very true, my dear, that is exactly what i say. she is the sort of woman whom one cannotregard with too much deference."

the evening was spent chiefly in talkingover hertfordshire news, and telling again what had already been written; and when itclosed, elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon charlotte's degree of contentment, to understand heraddress in guiding, and composure in bearing with, her husband, and toacknowledge that it was all done very well. she had also to anticipate how her visitwould pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions ofmr. collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with rosings. a lively imagination soon settled it all.

about the middle of the next day, as shewas in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak thewhole house in confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry, andcalling loudly after her. she opened the door and met maria in thelanding place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out-- "oh, my dear eliza! pray make haste andcome into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen!i will not tell you what it is. make haste, and come down this moment."

elizabeth asked questions in vain; mariawould tell her nothing more, and down they ran into the dining-room, which fronted thelane, in quest of this wonder; it was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at thegarden gate. "and is this all?" cried elizabeth. "i expected at least that the pigs were gotinto the garden, and here is nothing but lady catherine and her daughter.""la! my dear," said maria, quite shocked at the mistake, "it is not lady catherine. the old lady is mrs. jenkinson, who liveswith them; the other is miss de bourgh. only look at her.she is quite a little creature.

who would have thought that she could be sothin and small?" "she is abominably rude to keep charlotteout of doors in all this wind. why does she not come in?" "oh, charlotte says she hardly ever does.it is the greatest of favours when miss de bourgh comes in.""i like her appearance," said elizabeth, struck with other ideas. "she looks sickly and cross.yes, she will do for him very well. she will make him a very proper wife." mr. collins and charlotte were bothstanding at the gate in conversation with

the ladies; and sir william, to elizabeth'shigh diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly bowingwhenever miss de bourgh looked that way. at length there was nothing more to besaid; the ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. mr. collins no sooner saw the two girlsthan he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which charlotte explained byletting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at rosings the next day. chapter 29

mr. collins's triumph, in consequence ofthis invitation, was complete. the power of displaying the grandeur of hispatroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility towardshimself and his wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon, was suchan instance of lady catherine's condescension, as he knew not how to admireenough. "i confess," said he, "that i should nothave been at all surprised by her ladyship's asking us on sunday to drink teaand spend the evening at rosings. i rather expected, from my knowledge of heraffability, that it would happen.

but who could have foreseen such anattention as this? who could have imagined that we shouldreceive an invitation to dine there (an invitation, moreover, including the wholeparty) so immediately after your arrival!" "i am the less surprised at what hashappened," replied sir william, "from that knowledge of what the manners of the greatreally are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. about the court, such instances of elegantbreeding are not uncommon." scarcely anything was talked of the wholeday or next morning but their visit to rosings.

mr. collins was carefully instructing themin what they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and sosplendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them. when the ladies were separating for thetoilette, he said to elizabeth-- "do not make yourself uneasy, my dearcousin, about your apparel. lady catherine is far from requiring thatelegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. i would advise you merely to put onwhatever of your clothes is superior to the rest--there is no occasion for anythingmore.

lady catherine will not think the worse ofyou for being simply dressed. she likes to have the distinction of rankpreserved." while they were dressing, he came two orthree times to their different doors, to recommend their being quick, as ladycatherine very much objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. such formidable accounts of her ladyship,and her manner of living, quite frightened maria lucas who had been little used tocompany, and she looked forward to her introduction at rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done to hispresentation at st. james's.

as the weather was fine, they had apleasant walk of about half a mile across the park. every park has its beauty and itsprospects; and elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be insuch raptures as mr. collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but slightly affected by his enumeration of the windowsin front of the house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originallycost sir lewis de bourgh. when they ascended the steps to the hall,maria's alarm was every moment increasing, and even sir william did not look perfectlycalm.

elizabeth's courage did not fail her. she had heard nothing of lady catherinethat spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the merestateliness of money or rank she thought she could witness without trepidation. from the entrance-hall, of which mr.collins pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and the finishedornaments, they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where lady catherine, her daughter, and mrs.jenkinson were sitting. her ladyship, with great condescension,arose to receive them; and as mrs. collins

had settled it with her husband that theoffice of introduction should be hers, it was performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which hewould have thought necessary. in spite of having been at st. james's sirwilliam was so completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had butjust courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word; and his daughter, frightened almost out ofher senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing which way to look. elizabeth found herself quite equal to thescene, and could observe the three ladies

before her composedly. lady catherine was a tall, large woman,with strongly-marked features, which might once have been handsome. her air was not conciliating, nor was hermanner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. she was not rendered formidable by silence;but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance, and brought mr. wickham immediately to elizabeth's mind; and from the observation of the day altogether, shebelieved lady catherine to be exactly what

he represented. when, after examining the mother, in whosecountenance and deportment she soon found some resemblance of mr. darcy, she turnedher eyes on the daughter, she could almost have joined in maria's astonishment at herbeing so thin and so small. there was neither in figure nor face anylikeness between the ladies. miss de bourgh was pale and sickly; herfeatures, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very little,except in a low voice, to mrs. jenkinson, in whose appearance there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged inlistening to what she said, and placing a

screen in the proper direction before hereyes. after sitting a few minutes, they were allsent to one of the windows to admire the view, mr. collins attending them to pointout its beauties, and lady catherine kindly informing them that it was much betterworth looking at in the summer. the dinner was exceedingly handsome, andthere were all the servants and all the articles of plate which mr. collins hadpromised; and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship's desire, and lookedas if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater.

he carved, and ate, and praised withdelighted alacrity; and every dish was commended, first by him and then by sirwilliam, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a manner which elizabeth wondered ladycatherine could bear. but lady catherine seemed gratified bytheir excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dishon the table proved a novelty to them. the party did not supply much conversation. elizabeth was ready to speak whenever therewas an opening, but she was seated between charlotte and miss de bourgh--the former ofwhom was engaged in listening to lady

catherine, and the latter said not a wordto her all dinner-time. mrs. jenkinson was chiefly employed inwatching how little miss de bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, andfearing she was indisposed. maria thought speaking out of the question,and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire. when the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be done but to hear lady catherine talk, which she didwithout any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved that shewas not used to have her judgement

controverted. she inquired into charlotte's domesticconcerns familiarly and minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as to the managementof them all; told her how everything ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the care ofher cows and her poultry. elizabeth found that nothing was beneaththis great lady's attention, which could furnish her with an occasion of dictatingto others. in the intervals of her discourse with mrs.collins, she addressed a variety of questions to maria and elizabeth, butespecially to the latter, of whose

connections she knew the least, and who she observed to mrs. collins was a verygenteel, pretty kind of girl. she asked her, at different times, how manysisters she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of themwere likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they had been educated, what carriage her father kept,and what had been her mother's maiden name? elizabeth felt all the impertinence of herquestions but answered them very composedly. lady catherine then observed,"your father's estate is entailed on mr.

collins, i think. for your sake," turning to charlotte, "i amglad of it; but otherwise i see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line.it was not thought necessary in sir lewis de bourgh's family. do you play and sing, miss bennet?""a little." "oh! then--some time or other we shall behappy to hear you. our instrument is a capital one, probablysuperior to----you shall try it some day. do your sisters play and sing?""one of them does." "why did not you all learn?

you ought all to have learned.the miss webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours.do you draw?" "no, not at all." "what, none of you?""not one." "that is very strange.but i suppose you had no opportunity. your mother should have taken you to townevery spring for the benefit of masters." "my mother would have had no objection, butmy father hates london." "has your governess left you?" "we never had any governess.""no governess!

how was that possible?five daughters brought up at home without a governess! i never heard of such a thing.your mother must have been quite a slave to your education."elizabeth could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had not been the case. "then, who taught you? who attended to you?without a governess, you must have been neglected." "compared with some families, i believe wewere; but such of us as wished to learn never wanted the means.we were always encouraged to read, and had

all the masters that were necessary. those who chose to be idle, certainlymight." "aye, no doubt; but that is what agoverness will prevent, and if i had known your mother, i should have advised her moststrenuously to engage one. i always say that nothing is to be done ineducation without steady and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess cangive it. it is wonderful how many families i havebeen the means of supplying in that way. i am always glad to get a young person wellplaced out. four nieces of mrs. jenkinson are mostdelightfully situated through my means; and

it was but the other day that i recommendedanother young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and thefamily are quite delighted with her. mrs. collins, did i tell you of ladymetcalf's calling yesterday to thank me? she finds miss pope a treasure. 'lady catherine,' said she, 'you have givenme a treasure.' are any of your younger sisters out, missbennet?" "yes, ma'am, all." "all! what, all five out at once?very odd! and you only the second.the younger ones out before the elder ones

are married! your younger sisters must be very young?""yes, my youngest is not sixteen. perhaps she is full young to be much incompany. but really, ma'am, i think it would be veryhard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society andamusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to marry early. the last-born has as good a right to thepleasures of youth at the first. and to be kept back on such a motive! i think it would not be very likely topromote sisterly affection or delicacy of

mind." "upon my word," said her ladyship, "yougive your opinion very decidedly for so young a person.pray, what is your age?" "with three younger sisters grown up,"replied elizabeth, smiling, "your ladyship can hardly expect me to own it." lady catherine seemed quite astonished atnot receiving a direct answer; and elizabeth suspected herself to be the firstcreature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence. "you cannot be more than twenty, i am sure,therefore you need not conceal your age."

"i am not one-and-twenty."when the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card-tables were placed. lady catherine, sir william, and mr. andmrs. collins sat down to quadrille; and as miss de bourgh chose to play at cassino,the two girls had the honour of assisting mrs. jenkinson to make up her party. their table was superlatively stupid. scarcely a syllable was uttered that didnot relate to the game, except when mrs. jenkinson expressed her fears of miss debourgh's being too hot or too cold, or having too much or too little light.

a great deal more passed at the othertable. lady catherine was generally speaking--stating the mistakes of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. mr. collins was employed in agreeing toeverything her ladyship said, thanking her for every fish he won, and apologising ifhe thought he won too many. sir william did not say much. he was storing his memory with anecdotesand noble names. when lady catherine and her daughter hadplayed as long as they chose, the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered tomrs. collins, gratefully accepted and

immediately ordered. the party then gathered round the fire tohear lady catherine determine what weather they were to have on the morrow. from these instructions they were summonedby the arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on mr. collins'sside and as many bows on sir william's they departed. as soon as they had driven from the door,elizabeth was called on by her cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seenat rosings, which, for charlotte's sake, she made more favourable than it reallywas.

but her commendation, though costing hersome trouble, could by no means satisfy mr. collins, and he was very soon obliged totake her ladyship's praise into his own hands. chapter 30 sir william stayed only a week at hunsford,but his visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter's being mostcomfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as werenot often met with. while sir william was with them, mr.collins devoted his morning to driving him out in his gig, and showing him thecountry; but when he went away, the whole

family returned to their usual employments, and elizabeth was thankful to find thatthey did not see more of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the timebetween breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden or in reading and writing, and looking out of thewindow in his own book-room, which fronted the road.the room in which the ladies sat was backwards. elizabeth had at first rather wondered thatcharlotte should not prefer the dining- parlour for common use; it was a bettersized room, and had a more pleasant aspect;

but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for mr.collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat inone equally lively; and she gave charlotte credit for the arrangement. from the drawing-room they coulddistinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to mr. collins for the knowledgeof what carriages went along, and how often especially miss de bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming toinform them of, though it happened almost every day.

she not unfrequently stopped at theparsonage, and had a few minutes' conversation with charlotte, but wasscarcely ever prevailed upon to get out. very few days passed in which mr. collinsdid not walk to rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it necessaryto go likewise; and till elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she couldnot understand the sacrifice of so many hours. now and then they were honoured with a callfrom her ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the roomduring these visits.

she examined into their employments, lookedat their work, and advised them to do it differently; found fault with thearrangement of the furniture; or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do itonly for the sake of finding out that mrs. collins's joints of meat were too large forher family. elizabeth soon perceived, that though thisgreat lady was not in commission of the peace of the county, she was a most activemagistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by mr. collins; and whenever any of thecottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome,

discontented, or too poor, she salliedforth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, andscold them into harmony and plenty. the entertainment of dining at rosings wasrepeated about twice a week; and, allowing for the loss of sir william, and therebeing only one card-table in the evening, every such entertainment was thecounterpart of the first. their other engagements were few, as thestyle of living in the neighbourhood in general was beyond mr. collins's reach. this, however, was no evil to elizabeth,and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough; there were half-hoursof pleasant conversation with charlotte,

and the weather was so fine for the time of year that she had often great enjoyment outof doors. her favourite walk, and where shefrequently went while the others were calling on lady catherine, was along theopen grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value butherself, and where she felt beyond the reach of lady catherine's curiosity.in this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. easter was approaching, and the weekpreceding it was to bring an addition to

the family at rosings, which in so small acircle must be important. elizabeth had heard soon after her arrivalthat mr. darcy was expected there in the course of a few weeks, and though therewere not many of her acquaintances whom she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one comparatively new to look at in theirrosings parties, and she might be amused in seeing how hopeless miss bingley's designson him were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by lady catherine, who talked of his comingwith the greatest satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, andseemed almost angry to find that he had

already been frequently seen by miss lucasand herself. his arrival was soon known at theparsonage; for mr. collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodgesopening into hunsford lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it, and after making his bow as the carriage turnedinto the park, hurried home with the great intelligence.on the following morning he hastened to rosings to pay his respects. there were two nephews of lady catherine torequire them, for mr. darcy had brought with him a colonel fitzwilliam, the youngerson of his uncle lord ----, and, to the

great surprise of all the party, when mr. collins returned, the gentlemen accompaniedhim. charlotte had seen them from her husband'sroom, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls whatan honour they might expect, adding: "i may thank you, eliza, for this piece ofcivility. mr. darcy would never have come so soon towait upon me." elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim allright to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell,and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room.

colonel fitzwilliam, who led the way, wasabout thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. mr. darcy looked just as he had been usedto look in hertfordshire--paid his compliments, with his usual reserve, tomrs. collins, and whatever might be his feelings toward her friend, met her withevery appearance of composure. elizabeth merely curtseyed to him withoutsaying a word. colonel fitzwilliam entered intoconversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talkedvery pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on

the house and garden to mrs. collins, satfor some time without speaking to anybody. at length, however, his civility was so farawakened as to inquire of elizabeth after the health of her family. she answered him in the usual way, andafter a moment's pause, added: "my eldest sister has been in town thesethree months. have you never happened to see her there?" she was perfectly sensible that he neverhad; but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passedbetween the bingleys and jane, and she thought he looked a little confused as he

answered that he had never been sofortunate as to meet miss bennet. the subject was pursued no farther, and thegentlemen soon afterwards went away. chapter 31 colonel fitzwilliam's manners were verymuch admired at the parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must addconsiderably to the pleasures of their engagements at rosings. it was some days, however, before theyreceived any invitation thither--for while there were visitors in the house, theycould not be necessary; and it was not till easter-day, almost a week after the

gentlemen's arrival, that they werehonoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church tocome there in the evening. for the last week they had seen very littleof lady catherine or her daughter. colonel fitzwilliam had called at theparsonage more than once during the time, but mr. darcy they had seen only at church. the invitation was accepted of course, andat a proper hour they joined the party in lady catherine's drawing-room. her ladyship received them civilly, but itwas plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could getnobody else; and she was, in fact, almost

engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to darcy, much more than to anyother person in the room. colonel fitzwilliam seemed really glad tosee them; anything was a welcome relief to him at rosings; and mrs. collins's prettyfriend had moreover caught his fancy very much. he now seated himself by her, and talked soagreeably of kent and hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of newbooks and music, that elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so muchspirit and flow, as to draw the attention

of lady catherine herself, as well as ofmr. darcy. his eyes had been soon and repeatedlyturned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship, after awhile, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple tocall out: "what is that you are saying, fitzwilliam?what is it you are talking of? what are you telling miss bennet? let me hear what it is.""we are speaking of music, madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply."of music! then pray speak aloud.

it is of all subjects my delight.i must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. there are few people in england, i suppose,who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste.if i had ever learnt, i should have been a great proficient. and so would anne, if her health hadallowed her to apply. i am confident that she would haveperformed delightfully. how does georgiana get on, darcy?" mr. darcy spoke with affectionate praise ofhis sister's proficiency.

"i am very glad to hear such a good accountof her," said lady catherine; "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect toexcel if she does not practice a good deal." "i assure you, madam," he replied, "thatshe does not need such advice. she practises very constantly.""so much the better. it cannot be done too much; and when i nextwrite to her, i shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. i often tell young ladies that noexcellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice.

i have told miss bennet several times, thatshe will never play really well unless she practises more; and though mrs. collins hasno instrument, she is very welcome, as i have often told her, to come to rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte inmrs. jenkinson's room. she would be in nobody's way, you know, inthat part of the house." mr. darcy looked a little ashamed of hisaunt's ill-breeding, and made no answer. when coffee was over, colonel fitzwilliamreminded elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly tothe instrument. he drew a chair near her.

lady catherine listened to half a song, andthen talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away fromher, and making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fairperformer's countenance. elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at thefirst convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said: "you mean to frighten me, mr. darcy, bycoming in all this state to hear me? i will not be alarmed though your sisterdoes play so well. there is a stubbornness about me that nevercan bear to be frightened at the will of

others.my courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me." "i shall not say you are mistaken," hereplied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design ofalarming you; and i have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment inoccasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own." elizabeth laughed heartily at this pictureof herself, and said to colonel fitzwilliam, "your cousin will give you avery pretty notion of me, and teach you not

to believe a word i say. i am particularly unlucky in meeting with aperson so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where i had hoped topass myself off with some degree of credit. indeed, mr. darcy, it is very ungenerous inyou to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in hertfordshire--and, give meleave to say, very impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relationsto hear." "i am not afraid of you," said he,smilingly. "pray let me hear what you have to accusehim of," cried colonel fitzwilliam.

"i should like to know how he behaves amongstrangers." "you shall hear then--but prepare yourselffor something very dreadful. the first time of my ever seeing him inhertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball--and at this ball, what do you thinkhe did? he danced only four dances, thoughgentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady wassitting down in want of a partner. mr. darcy, you cannot deny the fact." "i had not at that time the honour ofknowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.""true; and nobody can ever be introduced in

a ball-room. well, colonel fitzwilliam, what do i playnext? my fingers wait your orders." "perhaps," said darcy, "i should havejudged better, had i sought an introduction; but i am ill-qualified torecommend myself to strangers." "shall we ask your cousin the reason ofthis?" said elizabeth, still addressing colonel fitzwilliam. "shall we ask him why a man of sense andeducation, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself tostrangers?"

"i can answer your question," saidfitzwilliam, "without applying to him. it is because he will not give himself thetrouble." "i certainly have not the talent which somepeople possess," said darcy, "of conversing easily with those i have never seen before. i cannot catch their tone of conversation,or appear interested in their concerns, as i often see done." "my fingers," said elizabeth, "do not moveover this instrument in the masterly manner which i see so many women's do.they have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression.

but then i have always supposed it to be myown fault--because i will not take the trouble of practising. it is not that i do not believe my fingersas capable as any other woman's of superior execution."darcy smiled and said, "you are perfectly right. you have employed your time much better.no one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting.we neither of us perform to strangers." here they were interrupted by ladycatherine, who called out to know what they were talking of.elizabeth immediately began playing again.

lady catherine approached, and, afterlistening for a few minutes, said to darcy: "miss bennet would not play at all amiss ifshe practised more, and could have the advantage of a london master. she has a very good notion of fingering,though her taste is not equal to anne's. anne would have been a delightfulperformer, had her health allowed her to learn." elizabeth looked at darcy to see howcordially he assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor atany other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour

to miss de bourgh she derived this comfortfor miss bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she beenhis relation. lady catherine continued her remarks onelizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. elizabeth received them with all theforbearance of civility, and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at theinstrument till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home. chapter 32 elizabeth was sitting by herself the nextmorning, and writing to jane while mrs.

collins and maria were gone on businessinto the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of avisitor. as she had heard no carriage, she thoughtit not unlikely to be lady catherine, and under that apprehension was putting awayher half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and, to her very greatsurprise, mr. darcy, and mr. darcy only, he seemed astonished too on finding heralone, and apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood allthe ladies were to be within. they then sat down, and when her inquiriesafter rosings were made, seemed in danger

of sinking into total silence. it was absolutely necessary, therefore, tothink of something, and in this emergence recollecting when she had seen him last inhertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of theirhasty departure, she observed: "how very suddenly you all quittednetherfield last november, mr. darcy! it must have been a most agreeable surpriseto mr. bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if i recollect right, he wentbut the day before. he and his sisters were well, i hope, whenyou left london?" "perfectly so, i thank you."she found that she was to receive no other

answer, and, after a short pause added: "i think i have understood that mr. bingleyhas not much idea of ever returning to netherfield again?" "i have never heard him say so; but it isprobable that he may spend very little of his time there in the future. he has many friends, and is at a time oflife when friends and engagements are continually increasing." "if he means to be but little atnetherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up theplace entirely, for then we might possibly

get a settled family there. but, perhaps, mr. bingley did not take thehouse so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we mustexpect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle." "i should not be surprised," said darcy,"if he were to give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers."elizabeth made no answer. she was afraid of talking longer of hisfriend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble offinding a subject to him. he took the hint, and soon began with,"this seems a very comfortable house.

lady catherine, i believe, did a great dealto it when mr. collins first came to hunsford." "i believe she did--and i am sure she couldnot have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.""mr. collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife." "yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoicein his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him,or have made him happy if they had. my friend has an excellent understanding--though i am not certain that i consider her marrying mr. collins as the wisest thingshe ever did.

she seems perfectly happy, however, and ina prudential light it is certainly a very good match for her." "it must be very agreeable for her to besettled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.""an easy distance, do you call it? it is nearly fifty miles." "and what is fifty miles of good road?little more than half a day's journey. yes, i call it a very easy distance." "i should never have considered thedistance as one of the advantages of the match," cried elizabeth."i should never have said mrs. collins was

settled near her family." "it is a proof of your own attachment tohertfordshire. anything beyond the very neighbourhood oflongbourn, i suppose, would appear far." as he spoke there was a sort of smile whichelizabeth fancied she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of jane andnetherfield, and she blushed as she answered: "i do not mean to say that a woman may notbe settled too near her family. the far and the near must be relative, anddepend on many varying circumstances. where there is fortune to make the expensesof travelling unimportant, distance becomes

no evil.but that is not the case here. mr. and mrs. collins have a comfortableincome, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys--and i am persuaded myfriend would not call herself near her family under less than half the presentdistance." mr. darcy drew his chair a little towardsher, and said, "you cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. you cannot have been always at longbourn."elizabeth looked surprised. the gentleman experienced some change offeeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and glancing overit, said, in a colder voice:

"are you pleased with kent?" a short dialogue on the subject of thecountry ensued, on either side calm and concise--and soon put an end to by theentrance of charlotte and her sister, just returned from her walk. the tete-a-tete surprised them.mr. darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on miss bennet,and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away. "what can be the meaning of this?" saidcharlotte, as soon as he was gone. "my dear, eliza, he must be in love withyou, or he would never have called us in

this familiar way." but when elizabeth told of his silence; itdid not seem very likely, even to charlotte's wishes, to be the case; andafter various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do,which was the more probable from the time of year.all field sports were over. within doors there was lady catherine,books, and a billiard-table, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors; and in thenearness of the parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the

people who lived in it, the two cousinsfound a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. they called at various times of themorning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied bytheir aunt. it was plain to them all that colonelfitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of courserecommended him still more; and elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by his evidentadmiration of her, of her former favourite george wickham; and though, in comparingthem, she saw there was less captivating

softness in colonel fitzwilliam's manners, she believed he might have the bestinformed mind. but why mr. darcy came so often to theparsonage, it was more difficult to understand. it could not be for society, as hefrequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he didspeak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice--a sacrifice topropriety, not a pleasure to himself. he seldom appeared really animated.mrs. collins knew not what to make of him. colonel fitzwilliam's occasionally laughingat his stupidity, proved that he was

generally different, which her ownknowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love, and theobject of that love her friend eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find itout. she watched him whenever they were atrosings, and whenever he came to hunsford; but without much success. he certainly looked at her friend a greatdeal, but the expression of that look was disputable. it was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but sheoften doubted whether there were much

admiration in it, and sometimes it seemednothing but absence of mind. she had once or twice suggested toelizabeth the possibility of his being partial to her, but elizabeth alwayslaughed at the idea; and mrs. collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectationswhich might only end in disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt,that all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in herpower. in her kind schemes for elizabeth, shesometimes planned her marrying colonel fitzwilliam.

he was beyond comparison the most pleasantman; he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but,to counterbalance these advantages, mr. darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his cousin could have none atall. chapter 33 more than once did elizabeth, in her ramblewithin the park, unexpectedly meet mr. darcy. she felt all the perverseness of themischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent itsever happening again, took care to inform

him at first that it was a favourite hauntof hers. how it could occur a second time,therefore, was very odd! yet it did, and even a third. it seemed like wilful ill-nature, or avoluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiriesand an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn backand walk with her. he never said a great deal, nor did shegive herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in thecourse of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions--

about her pleasure in being at hunsford,her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of mr. and mrs. collins's happiness; andthat in speaking of rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she cameinto kent again she would be staying there too.his words seemed to imply it. could he have colonel fitzwilliam in histhoughts? she supposed, if he meant anything, he mustmean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. it distressed her a little, and she wasquite glad to find herself at the gate in

the pales opposite the parsonage. she was engaged one day as she walked, inperusing jane's last letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that jane hadnot written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by mr. darcy, she saw on looking up that colonel fitzwilliam wasmeeting her. putting away the letter immediately andforcing a smile, she said: "i did not know before that you ever walkedthis way." "i have been making the tour of the park,"he replied, "as i generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at theparsonage.

are you going much farther?" "no, i should have turned in a moment."and accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the parsonage together."do you certainly leave kent on saturday?" said she. "yes--if darcy does not put it off again.but i am at his disposal. he arranges the business just as hepleases." "and if not able to please himself in thearrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. i do not know anybody who seems more toenjoy the power of doing what he likes than

mr. darcy.""he likes to have his own way very well," replied colonel fitzwilliam. "but so we all do.it is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he isrich, and many others are poor. i speak feelingly. a younger son, you know, must be inured toself-denial and dependence." "in my opinion, the younger son of an earlcan know very little of either. now seriously, what have you ever known ofself-denial and dependence? when have you been prevented by want ofmoney from going wherever you chose, or

procuring anything you had a fancy for?" "these are home questions--and perhaps icannot say that i have experienced many hardships of that nature.but in matters of greater weight, i may suffer from want of money. younger sons cannot marry where they like.""unless where they like women of fortune, which i think they very often do." "our habits of expense make us toodependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marrywithout some attention to money." "is this," thought elizabeth, "meant forme?" and she coloured at the idea; but,

recovering herself, said in a lively tone,"and pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? unless the elder brother is very sickly, isuppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds."he answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. to interrupt a silence which might make himfancy her affected with what had passed, she soon afterwards said: "i imagine your cousin brought you downwith him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal.i wonder he does not marry, to secure a

lasting convenience of that kind. but, perhaps, his sister does as well forthe present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her.""no," said colonel fitzwilliam, "that is an advantage which he must divide with me. i am joined with him in the guardianship ofmiss darcy." "are you indeed?and pray what sort of guardians do you make? does your charge give you much trouble?young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she hasthe true darcy spirit, she may like to have

her own way." as she spoke she observed him looking ather earnestly; and the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed missdarcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or othergot pretty near the truth. she directly replied:"you need not be frightened. i never heard any harm of her; and i daresay she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. she is a very great favourite with someladies of my acquaintance, mrs. hurst and miss bingley.i think i have heard you say that you know

them." "i know them a little.their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike man--he is a great friend of darcy's." "oh! yes," said elizabeth drily; "mr. darcyis uncommonly kind to mr. bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.""care of him! yes, i really believe darcy does take careof him in those points where he most wants care. from something that he told me in ourjourney hither, i have reason to think bingley very much indebted to him.

but i ought to beg his pardon, for i haveno right to suppose that bingley was the person meant.it was all conjecture." "what is it you mean?" "it is a circumstance which darcy could notwish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family, itwould be an unpleasant thing." "you may depend upon my not mentioning it." "and remember that i have not much reasonfor supposing it to be bingley. what he told me was merely this: that hecongratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of amost imprudent marriage, but without

mentioning names or any other particulars, and i only suspected it to be bingley frombelieving him the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and fromknowing them to have been together the whole of last summer." "did mr. darcy give you reasons for thisinterference?" "i understood that there were some verystrong objections against the lady." "and what arts did he use to separatethem?" "he did not talk to me of his own arts,"said fitzwilliam, smiling. "he only told me what i have now told you."

elizabeth made no answer, and walked on,her heart swelling with indignation. after watching her a little, fitzwilliamasked her why she was so thoughtful. "i am thinking of what you have beentelling me," said she. "your cousin's conduct does not suit myfeelings. why was he to be the judge?" "you are rather disposed to call hisinterference officious?" "i do not see what right mr. darcy had todecide on the propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgementalone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy.

but," she continued, recollecting herself,"as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him.it is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case." "that is not an unnatural surmise," saidfitzwilliam, "but it is a lessening of the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly." this was spoken jestingly; but it appearedto her so just a picture of mr. darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer,and therefore, abruptly changing the conversation talked on indifferent mattersuntil they reached the parsonage. there, shut into her own room, as soon astheir visitor left them, she could think

without interruption of all that she hadheard. it was not to be supposed that any otherpeople could be meant than those with whom she was connected. there could not exist in the world two menover whom mr. darcy could have such boundless influence. that he had been concerned in the measurestaken to separate bingley and jane she had never doubted; but she had alwaysattributed to miss bingley the principal design and arrangement of them. if his own vanity, however, did not misleadhim, he was the cause, his pride and

caprice were the cause, of all that janehad suffered, and still continued to suffer. he had ruined for a while every hope ofhappiness for the most affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no onecould say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted. "there were some very strong objectionsagainst the lady," were colonel fitzwilliam's words; and those strongobjections probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney, andanother who was in business in london. "to jane herself," she exclaimed, "therecould be no possibility of objection; all

loveliness and goodness as she is!--herunderstanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. neither could anything be urged against myfather, who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities mr. darcyhimself need not disdain, and respectability which he will probably neverreach." when she thought of her mother, herconfidence gave way a little; but she would not allow that any objections there hadmaterial weight with mr. darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance inhis friend's connections, than from their

want of sense; and she was quite decided,at last, that he had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of retaining mr. bingley for hissister. the agitation and tears which the subjectoccasioned, brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening,that, added to her unwillingness to see mr. darcy, it determined her not to attend her cousins to rosings, where they were engagedto drink tea. mrs. collins, seeing that she was reallyunwell, did not press her to go and as much as possible prevented her husband frompressing her; but mr. collins could not

conceal his apprehension of lady catherine's being rather displeased by herstaying at home. chapter 34 when they were gone, elizabeth, as ifintending to exasperate herself as much as possible against mr. darcy, chose for heremployment the examination of all the letters which jane had written to her sinceher being in kent. they contained no actual complaint, nor wasthere any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. but in all, and in almost every line ofeach, there was a want of that cheerfulness

which had been used to characterise herstyle, and which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly disposed towards everyone, had beenscarcely ever clouded. elizabeth noticed every sentence conveyingthe idea of uneasiness, with an attention which it had hardly received on the firstperusal. mr. darcy's shameful boast of what miseryhe had been able to inflict, gave her a keener sense of her sister's sufferings. it was some consolation to think that hisvisit to rosings was to end on the day after the next--and, a still greater, thatin less than a fortnight she should herself

be with jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits,by all that affection could do. she could not think of darcy's leaving kentwithout remembering that his cousin was to go with him; but colonel fitzwilliam hadmade it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did notmean to be unhappy about him. while settling this point, she was suddenlyroused by the sound of the door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by theidea of its being colonel fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in the evening, and might now come to inquireparticularly after her.

but this idea was soon banished, and herspirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw mr.darcy walk into the room. in an hurried manner he immediately beganan inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she werebetter. she answered him with cold civility. he sat down for a few moments, and thengetting up, walked about the room. elizabeth was surprised, but said not aword. after a silence of several minutes, he cametowards her in an agitated manner, and thus began:"in vain i have struggled.

it will not do. my feelings will not be repressed.you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire and love you."elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. she stared, coloured, doubted, and wassilent. this he considered sufficientencouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her,immediately followed. he spoke well; but there were feelingsbesides those of the heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the subjectof tenderness than of pride.

his sense of her inferiority--of its beinga degradation--of the family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination,were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, butwas very unlikely to recommend his suit. in spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, shecould not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, and though herintentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive; till, roused to resentment by hissubsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. she tried, however, to compose herself toanswer him with patience, when he should

have done. he concluded with representing to her thestrength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had foundimpossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded byher acceptance of his hand. as he said this, she could easily see thathe had no doubt of a favourable answer. he spoke of apprehension and anxiety, buthis countenance expressed real security. such a circumstance could only exasperatefarther, and, when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she said: "in such cases as this, it is, i believe,the established mode to express a sense of

obligation for the sentiments avowed,however unequally they may be returned. it is natural that obligation should befelt, and if i could feel gratitude, i would now thank you. but i cannot--i have never desired yourgood opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly.i am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. it has been most unconsciously done,however, and i hope will be of short duration. the feelings which, you tell me, have longprevented the acknowledgment of your

regard, can have little difficulty inovercoming it after this explanation." mr. darcy, who was leaning against themantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with noless resentment than surprise. his complexion became pale with anger, andthe disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. he was struggling for the appearance ofcomposure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it.the pause was to elizabeth's feelings dreadful. at length, with a voice of forced calmness,he said:

"and this is all the reply which i am tohave the honour of expecting! i might, perhaps, wish to be informed why,with so little endeavour at civility, i am thus rejected.but it is of small importance." "i might as well inquire," replied she,"why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me thatyou liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against yourcharacter? was not this some excuse for incivility, ifi was uncivil? but i have other provocations. you know i have.

had not my feelings decided against you--had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that anyconsideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a mostbeloved sister?" as she pronounced these words, mr. darcychanged colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting tointerrupt her while she continued: "i have every reason in the world to thinkill of you. no motive can excuse the unjust andungenerous part you acted there. you dare not, you cannot deny, that youhave been the principal, if not the only

means of dividing them from each other--ofexposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, andinvolving them both in misery of the acutest kind." she paused, and saw with no slightindignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by anyfeeling of remorse. he even looked at her with a smile ofaffected incredulity. "can you deny that you have done it?" sherepeated. with assumed tranquillity he then replied:"i have no wish of denying that i did

everything in my power to separate myfriend from your sister, or that i rejoice in my success. towards him i have been kinder than towardsmyself." elizabeth disdained the appearance ofnoticing this civil reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likelyto conciliate her. "but it is not merely this affair," shecontinued, "on which my dislike is founded. long before it had taken place my opinionof you was decided. your character was unfolded in the recitalwhich i received many months ago from mr. wickham.on this subject, what can you have to say?

in what imaginary act of friendship can youhere defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation can you here impose uponothers?" "you take an eager interest in thatgentleman's concerns," said darcy, in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightenedcolour. "who that knows what his misfortunes havebeen, can help feeling an interest in him?" "his misfortunes!" repeated darcycontemptuously; "yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed." "and of your infliction," cried elizabethwith energy. "you have reduced him to his present stateof poverty--comparative poverty.

you have withheld the advantages which youmust know to have been designed for him. you have deprived the best years of hislife of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. you have done all this! and yet you cantreat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule." "and this," cried darcy, as he walked withquick steps across the room, "is your opinion of me!this is the estimation in which you hold me! i thank you for explaining it so fully.my faults, according to this calculation,

are heavy indeed! but perhaps," added he, stopping in hiswalk, and turning towards her, "these offenses might have been overlooked, hadnot your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had longprevented my forming any serious design. these bitter accusations might have beensuppressed, had i, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered youinto the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; byreason, by reflection, by everything. but disguise of every sort is myabhorrence. nor am i ashamed of the feelings i related.

they were natural and just. could you expect me to rejoice in theinferiority of your connections?--to congratulate myself on the hope ofrelations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?" elizabeth felt herself growing more angryevery moment; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said: "you are mistaken, mr. darcy, if yousuppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as itspared me the concern which i might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in amore gentlemanlike manner."

she saw him start at this, but he saidnothing, and she continued: "you could not have made the offer of yourhand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it." again his astonishment was obvious; and helooked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification.she went on: "from the very beginning--from the firstmoment, i may almost say--of my acquaintance with you, your manners,impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others,were such as to form the groundwork of

disapprobation on which succeeding eventshave built so immovable a dislike; and i had not known you a month before i felt that you were the last man in the worldwhom i could ever be prevailed on to marry.""you have said quite enough, madam. i perfectly comprehend your feelings, andhave now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. forgive me for having taken up so much ofyour time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." and with these words he hastily left theroom, and elizabeth heard him the next

moment open the front door and quit thehouse. the tumult of her mind, was now painfullygreat. she knew not how to support herself, andfrom actual weakness sat down and cried for half-an-hour. her astonishment, as she reflected on whathad passed, was increased by every review of it.that she should receive an offer of marriage from mr. darcy! that he should have been in love with herfor so many months! so much in love as to wish to marry her inspite of all the objections which had made

him prevent his friend's marrying hersister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case--was almostincredible! it was gratifying to have inspiredunconsciously so strong an affection. but his pride, his abominable pride--hisshameless avowal of what he had done with respect to jane--his unpardonable assurancein acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned mr. wickham, hiscruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which theconsideration of his attachment had for a moment excited.

she continued in very agitated reflectionstill the sound of lady catherine's carriage made her feel how unequal she was toencounter charlotte's observation, and hurried her away to her room. chapter 35 elizabeth awoke the next morning to thesame thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. she could not yet recover from the surpriseof what had happened; it was impossible to think of anything else; and, totallyindisposed for employment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulge herself inair and exercise.

she was proceeding directly to herfavourite walk, when the recollection of mr. darcy's sometimes coming there stoppedher, and instead of entering the park, she turned up the lane, which led farther fromthe turnpike-road. the park paling was still the boundary onone side, and she soon passed one of the gates into the ground. after walking two or three times along thatpart of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at thegates and look into the park. the five weeks which she had now passed inkent had made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to theverdure of the early trees.

she was on the point of continuing herwalk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove whichedged the park; he was moving that way; and, fearful of its being mr. darcy, shewas directly retreating. but the person who advanced was now nearenough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced her name. she had turned away; but on hearing herselfcalled, though in a voice which proved it to be mr. darcy, she moved again towardsthe gate. he had by that time reached it also, and,holding out a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look ofhaughty composure, "i have been walking in

the grove some time in the hope of meetingyou. will you do me the honour of reading thatletter?" and then, with a slight bow, turned againinto the plantation, and was soon out of sight. with no expectation of pleasure, but withthe strongest curiosity, elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasingwonder, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper, written quitethrough, in a very close hand. the envelope itself was likewise full.pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it.

it was dated from rosings, at eight o'clockin the morning, and was as follows:-- "be not alarmed, madam, on receiving thisletter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of thosesentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. i write without any intention of painingyou, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both,cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, should havebeen spared, had not my character required it to be written and read.

you must, therefore, pardon the freedomwith which i demand your attention; your feelings, i know, will bestow itunwillingly, but i demand it of your justice. "two offenses of a very different nature,and by no means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. the first mentioned was, that, regardlessof the sentiments of either, i had detached mr. bingley from your sister, and theother, that i had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blastedthe prospects of mr. wickham.

wilfully and wantonly to have thrown offthe companion of my youth, the acknowledged favourite of my father, a young man who hadscarcely any other dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity,to which the separation of two young persons, whose affection could be thegrowth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. but from the severity of that blame whichwas last night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, i shall hopeto be in the future secured, when the following account of my actions and theirmotives has been read.

if, in the explanation of them, which isdue to myself, i am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be offensive toyours, i can only say that i am sorry. the necessity must be obeyed, and furtherapology would be absurd. "i had not been long in hertfordshire,before i saw, in common with others, that bingley preferred your elder sister to anyother young woman in the country. but it was not till the evening of thedance at netherfield that i had any apprehension of his feeling a seriousattachment. i had often seen him in love before. at that ball, while i had the honour ofdancing with you, i was first made

acquainted, by sir william lucas'saccidental information, that bingley's attentions to your sister had given rise toa general expectation of their marriage. he spoke of it as a certain event, of whichthe time alone could be undecided. from that moment i observed my friend'sbehaviour attentively; and i could then perceive that his partiality for missbennet was beyond what i had ever witnessed in him. your sister i also watched. her look and manners were open, cheerful,and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and i remainedconvinced from the evening's scrutiny, that

though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by anyparticipation of sentiment. if you have not been mistaken here, i musthave been in error. your superior knowledge of your sister mustmake the latter probable. if it be so, if i have been misled by sucherror to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. but i shall not scruple to assert, that theserenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the mostacute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was notlikely to be easily touched.

that i was desirous of believing herindifferent is certain--but i will venture to say that my investigation and decisionsare not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. i did not believe her to be indifferentbecause i wished it; i believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as i wishedit in reason. my objections to the marriage were notmerely those which i last night acknowledged to have the utmost force ofpassion to put aside, in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great anevil to my friend as to me. but there were other causes of repugnance;causes which, though still existing, and

existing to an equal degree in bothinstances, i had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not immediatelybefore me. these causes must be stated, thoughbriefly. the situation of your mother's family,though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to that total want of proprietyso frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters,and occasionally even by your father. pardon me.it pains me to offend you. but amidst your concern for the defects ofyour nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them,let it give you consolation to consider

that, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure, ispraise no less generally bestowed on you and your elder sister, than it ishonourable to the sense and disposition of both. i will only say farther that from whatpassed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducementheightened which could have led me before, to preserve my friend from what i esteemeda most unhappy connection. he left netherfield for london, on the dayfollowing, as you, i am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning.

"the part which i acted is now to beexplained. his sisters' uneasiness had been equallyexcited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered, and, alikesensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortlyresolved on joining him directly in london. we accordingly went--and there i readilyengaged in the office of pointing out to my friend the certain evils of such a choice. i described, and enforced them earnestly. but, however this remonstrance might havestaggered or delayed his determination, i do not suppose that it would ultimatelyhave prevented the marriage, had it not

been seconded by the assurance that i hesitated not in giving, of your sister'sindifference. he had before believed her to return hisaffection with sincere, if not with equal regard. but bingley has great natural modesty, witha stronger dependence on my judgement than on his own. to convince him, therefore, that he haddeceived himself, was no very difficult point. to persuade him against returning intohertfordshire, when that conviction had

been given, was scarcely the work of amoment. i cannot blame myself for having done thusmuch. there is but one part of my conduct in thewhole affair on which i do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that i condescended toadopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being intown. i knew it myself, as it was known to missbingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. that they might have met without illconsequence is perhaps probable; but his regard did not appear to me enoughextinguished for him to see her without

some danger. perhaps this concealment, this disguise wasbeneath me; it is done, however, and it was done for the best.on this subject i have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. if i have wounded your sister's feelings,it was unknowingly done and though the motives which governed me may to you verynaturally appear insufficient, i have not yet learnt to condemn them. "with respect to that other, more weightyaccusation, of having injured mr. wickham, i can only refute it by laying before youthe whole of his connection with my family.

of what he has particularly accused me i amignorant; but of the truth of what i shall relate, i can summon more than one witnessof undoubted veracity. "mr. wickham is the son of a veryrespectable man, who had for many years the management of all the pemberley estates,and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on georgewickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. my father supported him at school, andafterwards at cambridge--most important assistance, as his own father, always poorfrom the extravagance of his wife, would

have been unable to give him a gentleman'seducation. my father was not only fond of this youngman's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinionof him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him init. as for myself, it is many, many years sincei first began to think of him in a very different manner. the vicious propensities--the want ofprinciple, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend,could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself,

and who had opportunities of seeing him inunguarded moments, which mr. darcy could not have.here again i shall give you pain--to what degree you only can tell. but whatever may be the sentiments whichmr. wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me fromunfolding his real character--it adds even another motive. "my excellent father died about five yearsago; and his attachment to mr. wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will heparticularly recommended it to me, to promote his advancement in the best manner

that his profession might allow--and if hetook orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it becamevacant. there was also a legacy of one thousandpounds. his own father did not long survive mine,and within half a year from these events, mr. wickham wrote to inform me that, havingfinally resolved against taking orders, he hoped i should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediatepecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not bebenefited. he had some intention, he added, ofstudying law, and i must be aware that the

interest of one thousand pounds would be avery insufficient support therein. i rather wished, than believed him to besincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. i knew that mr. wickham ought not to be aclergyman; the business was therefore soon settled--he resigned all claim toassistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return threethousand pounds. all connection between us seemed nowdissolved. i thought too ill of him to invite him topemberley, or admit his society in town.

in town i believe he chiefly lived, but hisstudying the law was a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his lifewas a life of idleness and dissipation. for about three years i heard little ofhim; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him,he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. his circumstances, he assured me, and i hadno difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. he had found the law a most unprofitablestudy, and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if i would present him tothe living in question--of which he trusted

there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that i had no other person toprovide for, and i could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. you will hardly blame me for refusing tocomply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition to it. his resentment was in proportion to thedistress of his circumstances--and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me toothers as in his reproaches to myself. after this period every appearance ofacquaintance was dropped. how he lived i know not.but last summer he was again most painfully

obtruded on my notice. "i must now mention a circumstance which iwould wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present shouldinduce me to unfold to any human being. having said thus much, i feel no doubt ofyour secrecy. my sister, who is more than ten years myjunior, was left to the guardianship of my mother's nephew, colonel fitzwilliam, andmyself. about a year ago, she was taken fromschool, and an establishment formed for her in london; and last summer she went withthe lady who presided over it, to ramsgate; and thither also went mr. wickham,

undoubtedly by design; for there proved tohave been a prior acquaintance between him and mrs. younge, in whose character we weremost unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to georgiana, whose affectionateheart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she waspersuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. she was then but fifteen, which must be herexcuse; and after stating her imprudence, i am happy to add, that i owed the knowledgeof it to herself. i joined them unexpectedly a day or twobefore the intended elopement, and then

georgiana, unable to support the idea ofgrieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father,acknowledged the whole to me. you may imagine what i felt and how iacted. regard for my sister's credit and feelingsprevented any public exposure; but i wrote to mr. wickham, who left the placeimmediately, and mrs. younge was of course removed from her charge. mr. wickham's chief object wasunquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but i cannothelp supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement.

his revenge would have been completeindeed. "this, madam, is a faithful narrative ofevery event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutelyreject it as false, you will, i hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards mr.wickham. i know not in what manner, under what formof falsehood he had imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at. ignorant as you previously were ofeverything concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicioncertainly not in your inclination. "you may possibly wonder why all this wasnot told you last night; but i was not then

master enough of myself to know what couldor ought to be revealed. for the truth of everything here related, ican appeal more particularly to the testimony of colonel fitzwilliam, who, fromour near relationship and constant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of my father's will, has beenunavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. if your abhorrence of me should make myassertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confidingin my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, i shall

endeavour to find some opportunity ofputting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning.i will only add, god bless you. "fitzwilliam darcy" chapter 36 if elizabeth, when mr. darcy gave her theletter, did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed noexpectation at all of its contents. but such as they were, it may well besupposed how eagerly she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion theyexcited. her feelings as she read were scarcely tobe defined.

with amazement did she first understandthat he believed any apology to be in his power; and steadfastly was she persuaded,that he could have no explanation to give, which a just sense of shame would notconceal. with a strong prejudice against everythinghe might say, she began his account of what had happened at netherfield. she read with an eagerness which hardlyleft her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the nextsentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one beforeher eyes. his belief of her sister's insensibilityshe instantly resolved to be false; and his

account of the real, the worst objectionsto the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. he expressed no regret for what he had donewhich satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty.it was all pride and insolence. but when this subject was succeeded by hisaccount of mr. wickham--when she read with somewhat clearer attention a relation ofevents which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his ownhistory of himself--her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult ofdefinition.

astonishment, apprehension, and evenhorror, oppressed her. she wished to discredit it entirely,repeatedly exclaiming, "this must be false! this cannot be! this must be the grossest falsehood!"--andwhen she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of thelast page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not regard it,that she would never look in it again. in this perturbed state of mind, withthoughts that could rest on nothing, she walked on; but it would not do; in half aminute the letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she could,

she again began the mortifying perusal ofall that related to wickham, and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning ofevery sentence. the account of his connection with thepemberley family was exactly what he had related himself; and the kindness of thelate mr. darcy, though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well withhis own words. so far each recital confirmed the other;but when she came to the will, the difference was great. what wickham had said of the living wasfresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was impossible not tofeel that there was gross duplicity on one

side or the other; and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes didnot err. but when she read and re-read with theclosest attention, the particulars immediately following of wickham'sresigning all pretensions to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three thousand pounds, again was sheforced to hesitate. she put down the letter, weighed everycircumstance with what she meant to be impartiality--deliberated on theprobability of each statement--but with little success.

on both sides it was only assertion. again she read on; but every line provedmore clearly that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that any contrivancecould so represent as to render mr. darcy's conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make himentirely blameless throughout the whole. the extravagance and general profligacywhich he scrupled not to lay at mr. wickham's charge, exceedingly shocked her;the more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. she had never heard of him before hisentrance into the ----shire militia, in

which he had engaged at the persuasion ofthe young man who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed aslight acquaintance. of his former way of life nothing had beenknown in hertfordshire but what he told himself. as to his real character, had informationbeen in her power, she had never felt a wish of inquiring. his countenance, voice, and manner hadestablished him at once in the possession of every virtue. she tried to recollect some instance ofgoodness, some distinguished trait of

integrity or benevolence, that might rescuehim from the attacks of mr. darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors under which shewould endeavour to class what mr. darcy had described as the idleness and vice of manyyears' continuance. but no such recollection befriended her. she could see him instantly before her, inevery charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial goodthan the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which hissocial powers had gained him in the mess. after pausing on this point a considerablewhile, she once more continued to read.

but, alas! the story which followed, of hisdesigns on miss darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed betweencolonel fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at last she was referred for the truth of every particularto colonel fitzwilliam himself--from whom she had previously received the informationof his near concern in all his cousin's affairs, and whose character she had noreason to question. at one time she had almost resolved onapplying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the application, andat length wholly banished by the conviction that mr. darcy would never have hazarded

such a proposal, if he had not been wellassured of his cousin's corroboration. she perfectly remembered everything thathad passed in conversation between wickham and herself, in their first evening at mr.phillips's. many of his expressions were still fresh inher memory. she was now struck with the impropriety ofsuch communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her before. she saw the indelicacy of putting himselfforward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with hisconduct. she remembered that he had boasted ofhaving no fear of seeing mr. darcy--that

mr. darcy might leave the country, but thathe should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the netherfield ball the very nextweek. she remembered also that, till thenetherfield family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one butherself; but that after their removal it had been everywhere discussed; that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinkingmr. darcy's character, though he had assured her that respect for the fatherwould always prevent his exposing the son. how differently did everything now appearin which he was concerned! his attentions to miss king were now theconsequence of views solely and hatefully

mercenary; and the mediocrity of herfortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp atanything. his behaviour to herself could now have hadno tolerable motive; he had either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or hadbeen gratifying his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she hadmost incautiously shown. every lingering struggle in his favour grewfainter and fainter; and in farther justification of mr. darcy, she could notbut allow that mr. bingley, when questioned by jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that proud andrepulsive as were his manners, she had

never, in the whole course of theiracquaintance--an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways--seen anything that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust--anything that spokehim of irreligious or immoral habits; that among his own connections he was esteemed and valued--that even wickham had allowedhim merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately ofhis sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling; that had his actions been what mr. wickham represented them, so grossa violation of everything right could

hardly have been concealed from the world;and that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man asmr. bingley, was incomprehensible. she grew absolutely ashamed of herself. of neither darcy nor wickham could shethink without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. "how despicably i have acted!" she cried;"i, who have prided myself on my discernment! i, who have valued myself on my abilities!who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified myvanity in useless or blameable mistrust!

how humiliating is this discovery! yet, how just a humiliation!had i been in love, i could not have been more wretchedly blind!but vanity, not love, has been my folly. pleased with the preference of one, andoffended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, ihave courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either wereconcerned. till this moment i never knew myself." from herself to jane--from jane to bingley,her thoughts were in a line which soon brought to her recollection that mr.darcy's explanation there had appeared very

insufficient, and she read it again. widely different was the effect of a secondperusal. how could she deny that credit to hisassertions in one instance, which she had been obliged to give in the other? he declared himself to be totallyunsuspicious of her sister's attachment; and she could not help remembering whatcharlotte's opinion had always been. neither could she deny the justice of hisdescription of jane. she felt that jane's feelings, thoughfervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her airand manner not often united with great

sensibility. when she came to that part of the letter inwhich her family were mentioned in terms of such mortifying, yet merited reproach, hersense of shame was severe. the justice of the charge struck her tooforcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded as havingpassed at the netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impressionon his mind than on hers. the compliment to herself and her sisterwas not unfelt. it soothed, but it could not console herfor the contempt which had thus been self-

attracted by the rest of her family; and asshe considered that jane's disappointment had in fact been the work of her nearest relations, and reflected how materially thecredit of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressedbeyond anything she had ever known before. after wandering along the lane for twohours, giving way to every variety of thought--re-considering events, determiningprobabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and arecollection of her long absence, made her at length return home; and she entered thehouse with the wish of appearing cheerful

as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit forconversation. she was immediately told that the twogentlemen from rosings had each called during her absence; mr. darcy, only for afew minutes, to take leave--but that colonel fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for herreturn, and almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found.elizabeth could but just affect concern in missing him; she really rejoiced at it. colonel fitzwilliam was no longer anobject; she could think only of her letter.

chapter 37 the two gentlemen left rosings the nextmorning, and mr. collins having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them hisparting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence, of their appearing in very good health, and in astolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene so lately gonethrough at rosings. to rosings he then hastened, to consolelady catherine and her daughter; and on his return brought back, with greatsatisfaction, a message from her ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as

to make her very desirous of having themall to dine with her. elizabeth could not see lady catherinewithout recollecting that, had she chosen it, she might by this time have beenpresented to her as her future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of whather ladyship's indignation would have been. "what would she have said? how would shehave behaved?" were questions with which she amused herself. their first subject was the diminution ofthe rosings party. "i assure you, i feel it exceedingly," saidlady catherine; "i believe no one feels the loss of friends so much as i do.

but i am particularly attached to theseyoung men, and know them to be so much attached to me!they were excessively sorry to go! but so they always are. the dear colonel rallied his spiritstolerably till just at last; but darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, more, ithink, than last year. his attachment to rosings certainlyincreases." mr. collins had a compliment, and anallusion to throw in here, which were kindly smiled on by the mother anddaughter. lady catherine observed, after dinner, thatmiss bennet seemed out of spirits, and

immediately accounting for it by herself,by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon, she added: "but if that is the case, you must write toyour mother and beg that you may stay a little longer.mrs. collins will be very glad of your company, i am sure." "i am much obliged to your ladyship foryour kind invitation," replied elizabeth, "but it is not in my power to accept it.i must be in town next saturday." "why, at that rate, you will have been hereonly six weeks. i expected you to stay two months.i told mrs. collins so before you came.

there can be no occasion for your going sosoon. mrs. bennet could certainly spare you foranother fortnight." "but my father cannot. he wrote last week to hurry my return.""oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can.daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. and if you will stay another monthcomplete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as london, for i am goingthere early in june, for a week; and as dawson does not object to the barouche-box,

there will be very good room for one ofyou--and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, i should not object totaking you both, as you are neither of you large." "you are all kindness, madam; but i believewe must abide by our original plan." lady catherine seemed resigned."mrs. collins, you must send a servant with them. you know i always speak my mind, and icannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by themselves.it is highly improper. you must contrive to send somebody.

i have the greatest dislike in the world tothat sort of thing. young women should always be properlyguarded and attended, according to their situation in life. when my niece georgiana went to ramsgatelast summer, i made a point of her having two men-servants go with her. miss darcy, the daughter of mr. darcy, ofpemberley, and lady anne, could not have appeared with propriety in a differentmanner. i am excessively attentive to all thosethings. you must send john with the young ladies,mrs. collins.

i am glad it occurred to me to mention it;for it would really be discreditable to you to let them go alone.""my uncle is to send a servant for us." "oh! your uncle! he keeps a man-servant, does he?i am very glad you have somebody who thinks of these things.where shall you change horses? oh! bromley, of course. if you mention my name at the bell, youwill be attended to." lady catherine had many other questions toask respecting their journey, and as she did not answer them all herself, attentionwas necessary, which elizabeth believed to

be lucky for her; or, with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten whereshe was. reflection must be reserved for solitaryhours; whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a daywent by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight ofunpleasant recollections. mr. darcy's letter she was in a fair way ofsoon knowing by heart. she studied every sentence; and herfeelings towards its writer were at times widely different. when she remembered the style of hisaddress, she was still full of indignation;

but when she considered how unjustly shehad condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object ofcompassion. his attachment excited gratitude, hisgeneral character respect; but she could not approve him; nor could she for a momentrepent her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. in her own past behaviour, there was aconstant source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family, asubject of yet heavier chagrin. they were hopeless of remedy.

her father, contented with laughing atthem, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngestdaughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirelyinsensible of the evil. elizabeth had frequently united with janein an endeavour to check the imprudence of catherine and lydia; but while they weresupported by their mother's indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement? catherine, weak-spirited, irritable, andcompletely under lydia's guidance, had been always affronted by their advice; andlydia, self-willed and careless, would scarcely give them a hearing.

they were ignorant, idle, and vain.while there was an officer in meryton, they would flirt with him; and while meryton waswithin a walk of longbourn, they would be going there forever. anxiety on jane's behalf was anotherprevailing concern; and mr. darcy's explanation, by restoring bingley to allher former good opinion, heightened the sense of what jane had lost. his affection was proved to have beensincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to theimplicitness of his confidence in his friend.

how grievous then was the thought that, ofa situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage, so promising forhappiness, jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family! when to these recollections was added thedevelopment of wickham's character, it may be easily believed that the happy spiritswhich had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to make it almost impossible for her to appeartolerably cheerful. their engagements at rosings were asfrequent during the last week of her stay as they had been at first.

the very last evening was spent there; andher ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of their journey, gave themdirections as to the best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way,that maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of themorning, and pack her trunk afresh. when they parted, lady catherine, withgreat condescension, wished them a good journey, and invited them to come tohunsford again next year; and miss de bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtseyand hold out her hand to both. chapter 38

on saturday morning elizabeth and mr.collins met for breakfast a few minutes before the others appeared; and he took theopportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensablynecessary. "i know not, miss elizabeth," said he,"whether mrs. collins has yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; buti am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for it. the favor of your company has been muchfelt, i assure you. we know how little there is to tempt anyoneto our humble abode. our plain manner of living, our small roomsand few domestics, and the little we see of

the world, must make hunsford extremelydull to a young lady like yourself; but i hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, and that we have doneeverything in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly."elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. she had spent six weeks with greatenjoyment; and the pleasure of being with charlotte, and the kind attentions she hadreceived, must make her feel the obliged. mr. collins was gratified, and with a moresmiling solemnity replied: "it gives me great pleasure to hear thatyou have passed your time not disagreeably.

we have certainly done our best; and mostfortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society,and, from our connection with rosings, the frequent means of varying the humble home scene, i think we may flatter ourselvesthat your hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. our situation with regard to ladycatherine's family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing whichfew can boast. you see on what a footing we are. you see how continually we are engagedthere.

in truth i must acknowledge that, with allthe disadvantages of this humble parsonage, i should not think anyone abiding in it anobject of compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at rosings." words were insufficient for the elevationof his feelings; and he was obliged to walk about the room, while elizabeth tried tounite civility and truth in a few short sentences. "you may, in fact, carry a very favourablereport of us into hertfordshire, my dear cousin.i flatter myself at least that you will be able to do so.

lady catherine's great attentions to mrs.collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether i trust it does not appearthat your friend has drawn an unfortunate-- but on this point it will be as well to besilent. only let me assure you, my dear misselizabeth, that i can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity inmarriage. my dear charlotte and i have but one mindand one way of thinking. there is in everything a most remarkableresemblance of character and ideas between us. we seem to have been designed for eachother."

elizabeth could safely say that it was agreat happiness where that was the case, and with equal sincerity could add, thatshe firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. she was not sorry, however, to have therecital of them interrupted by the lady from whom they sprang.poor charlotte! it was melancholy to leave her to such society! but she had chosen it with her eyes open;and though evidently regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem toask for compassion. her home and her housekeeping, her parishand her poultry, and all their dependent

concerns, had not yet lost their charms. at length the chaise arrived, the trunkswere fastened on, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. after an affectionate parting between thefriends, elizabeth was attended to the carriage by mr. collins, and as they walkeddown the garden he was commissioning her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks for the kindnesshe had received at longbourn in the winter, and his compliments to mr. and mrs.gardiner, though unknown. he then handed her in, maria followed, andthe door was on the point of being closed,

when he suddenly reminded them, with someconsternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave any message for theladies at rosings. "but," he added, "you will of course wishto have your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for theirkindness to you while you have been here." elizabeth made no objection; the door wasthen allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off. "good gracious!" cried maria, after a fewminutes' silence, "it seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how manythings have happened!" "a great many indeed," said her companionwith a sigh.

"we have dined nine times at rosings,besides drinking tea there twice! how much i shall have to tell!" elizabeth added privately, "and how much ishall have to conceal!" their journey was performed without muchconversation, or any alarm; and within four hours of their leaving hunsford theyreached mr. gardiner's house, where they were to remain a few days. jane looked well, and elizabeth had littleopportunity of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindnessof her aunt had reserved for them. but jane was to go home with her, and atlongbourn there would be leisure enough for

observation. it was not without an effort, meanwhile,that she could wait even for longbourn, before she told her sister of mr. darcy'sproposals. to know that she had the power of revealingwhat would so exceedingly astonish jane, and must, at the same time, so highlygratify whatever of her own vanity she had not yet been able to reason away, was such a temptation to openness as nothing couldhave conquered but the state of indecision in which she remained as to the extent ofwhat she should communicate; and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of

being hurried into repeating something ofbingley which might only grieve her sister further. chapter 39 it was the second week in may, in which thethree young ladies set out together from gracechurch street for the town of ----, inhertfordshire; and, as they drew near the appointed inn where mr. bennet's carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived,in token of the coachman's punctuality, both kitty and lydia looking out of adining-room upstairs. these two girls had been above an hour inthe place, happily employed in visiting an

opposite milliner, watching the sentinel onguard, and dressing a salad and cucumber. after welcoming their sisters, theytriumphantly displayed a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usuallyaffords, exclaiming, "is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?" "and we mean to treat you all," addedlydia, "but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop outthere." then, showing her purchases--"look here, ihave bought this bonnet. i do not think it is very pretty; but ithought i might as well buy it as not. i shall pull it to pieces as soon as i gethome, and see if i can make it up any

better." and when her sisters abused it as ugly, sheadded, with perfect unconcern, "oh! but there were two or three much uglier in theshop; and when i have bought some prettier- coloured satin to trim it with fresh, ithink it will be very tolerable. besides, it will not much signify what onewears this summer, after the ----shire have left meryton, and they are going in afortnight." "are they indeed!" cried elizabeth, withthe greatest satisfaction. "they are going to be encamped nearbrighton; and i do so want papa to take us all there for the summer!

it would be such a delicious scheme; and idare say would hardly cost anything at all. mamma would like to go too of all things!only think what a miserable summer else we shall have!" "yes," thought elizabeth, "that would be adelightful scheme indeed, and completely do for us at once.good heaven! brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers,to us, who have been overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthlyballs of meryton!" "now i have got some news for you," saidlydia, as they sat down at table. "what do you think?it is excellent news--capital news--and

about a certain person we all like!" jane and elizabeth looked at each other,and the waiter was told he need not stay. lydia laughed, and said:"aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. you thought the waiter must not hear, as ifhe cared! i dare say he often hears worse things saidthan i am going to say. but he is an ugly fellow! i am glad he is gone.i never saw such a long chin in my life. well, but now for my news; it is about dearwickham; too good for the waiter, is it

not? there is no danger of wickham's marryingmary king. there's for you!she is gone down to her uncle at liverpool: gone to stay. wickham is safe.""and mary king is safe!" added elizabeth; "safe from a connection imprudent as tofortune." "she is a great fool for going away, if sheliked him." "but i hope there is no strong attachmenton either side," said jane. "i am sure there is not on his.

i will answer for it, he never cared threestraws about her--who could about such a nasty little freckled thing?" elizabeth was shocked to think that,however incapable of such coarseness of expression herself, the coarseness of thesentiment was little other than her own breast had harboured and fancied liberal! as soon as all had ate, and the elder onespaid, the carriage was ordered; and after some contrivance, the whole party, with alltheir boxes, work-bags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of kitty's andlydia's purchases, were seated in it. "how nicely we are all crammed in," criedlydia.

"i am glad i bought my bonnet, if it isonly for the fun of having another bandbox! well, now let us be quite comfortable andsnug, and talk and laugh all the way home. and in the first place, let us hear whathas happened to you all since you went away.have you seen any pleasant men? have you had any flirting? i was in great hopes that one of you wouldhave got a husband before you came back. jane will be quite an old maid soon, ideclare. she is almost three-and-twenty! lord, how ashamed i should be of not beingmarried before three-and-twenty!

my aunt phillips wants you so to gethusbands, you can't think. she says lizzy had better have taken mr.collins; but i do not think there would have been any fun in it. lord! how i should like to be marriedbefore any of you; and then i would chaperon you about to all the balls.dear me! we had such a good piece of fun the other day at colonel forster's. kitty and me were to spend the day there,and mrs. forster promised to have a little dance in the evening; (by the bye, mrs.forster and me are such friends!) and so she asked the two harringtons to come, but

harriet was ill, and so pen was forced tocome by herself; and then, what do you think we did? we dressed up chamberlayne in woman'sclothes on purpose to pass for a lady, only think what fun! not a soul knew of it, but colonel and mrs.forster, and kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of hergowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! when denny, and wickham, and pratt, and twoor three more of the men came in, they did not know him in the least.lord! how i laughed! and so did mrs.

forster. i thought i should have died.and that made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out what was thematter." with such kinds of histories of theirparties and good jokes, did lydia, assisted by kitty's hints and additions, endeavourto amuse her companions all the way to longbourn. elizabeth listened as little as she could,but there was no escaping the frequent mention of wickham's name.their reception at home was most kind. mrs. bennet rejoiced to see jane inundiminished beauty; and more than once

during dinner did mr. bennet sayvoluntarily to elizabeth: "i am glad you are come back, lizzy." their party in the dining-room was large,for almost all the lucases came to meet maria and hear the news; and various werethe subjects that occupied them: lady lucas was inquiring of maria, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; mrs.bennet was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the presentfashions from jane, who sat some way below her, and, on the other, retailing them all to the younger lucases; and lydia, in avoice rather louder than any other

person's, was enumerating the variouspleasures of the morning to anybody who would hear her. "oh! mary," said she, "i wish you had gonewith us, for we had such fun! as we went along, kitty and i drew up theblinds, and pretended there was nobody in the coach; and i should have gone so allthe way, if kitty had not been sick; and when we got to the george, i do think we behaved very handsomely, for we treated theother three with the nicest cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone,we would have treated you too. and then when we came away it was such fun!

i thought we never should have got into thecoach. i was ready to die of laughter. and then we were so merry all the way home!we talked and laughed so loud, that anybody might have heard us ten miles off!" to this mary very gravely replied, "far beit from me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleasures!they would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds. but i confess they would have no charms forme--i should infinitely prefer a book." but of this answer lydia heard not a word.

she seldom listened to anybody for morethan half a minute, and never attended to mary at all. in the afternoon lydia was urgent with therest of the girls to walk to meryton, and to see how everybody went on; but elizabethsteadily opposed the scheme. it should not be said that the miss bennetscould not be at home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers.there was another reason too for her opposition. she dreaded seeing mr. wickham again, andwas resolved to avoid it as long as possible.

the comfort to her of the regiment'sapproaching removal was indeed beyond in a fortnight they were to go--and oncegone, she hoped there could be nothing more to plague her on his account. she had not been many hours at home beforeshe found that the brighton scheme, of which lydia had given them a hint at theinn, was under frequent discussion between her parents. elizabeth saw directly that her father hadnot the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers were at the same time so vagueand equivocal, that her mother, though often disheartened, had never yet despairedof succeeding at last.

chapter 40 elizabeth's impatience to acquaint janewith what had happened could no longer be overcome; and at length, resolving tosuppress every particular in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, she related to her the nextmorning the chief of the scene between mr. darcy and herself. miss bennet's astonishment was soonlessened by the strong sisterly partiality which made any admiration of elizabethappear perfectly natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings.

she was sorry that mr. darcy should havedelivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them; but stillmore was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister's refusal must have givenhim. "his being so sure of succeeding waswrong," said she, "and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much itmust increase his disappointment!" "indeed," replied elizabeth, "i am heartilysorry for him; but he has other feelings, which will probably soon drive away hisregard for me. you do not blame me, however, for refusinghim?" "blame you!oh, no."

"but you blame me for having spoken sowarmly of wickham?" "no--i do not know that you were wrong insaying what you did." "but you will know it, when i tell you whathappened the very next day." she then spoke of the letter, repeating thewhole of its contents as far as they concerned george wickham. what a stroke was this for poor jane! whowould willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickednessexisted in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. nor was darcy's vindication, thoughgrateful to her feelings, capable of

consoling her for such discovery. most earnestly did she labour to prove theprobability of error, and seek to clear the one without involving the other. "this will not do," said elizabeth; "younever will be able to make both of them good for anything.take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. there is but such a quantity of meritbetween them; just enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has beenshifting about pretty much. for my part, i am inclined to believe itall darcy's; but you shall do as you

choose."it was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from jane. "i do not know when i have been moreshocked," said she. "wickham so very bad!it is almost past belief. and poor mr. darcy! dear lizzy, only consider what he must havesuffered. such a disappointment! and with theknowledge of your ill opinion, too! and having to relate such a thing of hissister! it is really too distressing.

i am sure you must feel it so.""oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. i know you will do him such ample justice,that i am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. your profusion makes me saving; and if youlament over him much longer, my heart will be as light as a feather." "poor wickham! there is such an expressionof goodness in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!" "there certainly was some greatmismanagement in the education of those two

young men.one has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it." "i never thought mr. darcy so deficient inthe appearance of it as you used to do." "and yet i meant to be uncommonly clever intaking so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. it is such a spur to one's genius, such anopening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. one may be continually abusive withoutsaying anything just; but one cannot always be laughing at a man without now and thenstumbling on something witty."

"lizzy, when you first read that letter, iam sure you could not treat the matter as you do now.""indeed, i could not. i was uncomfortable enough, i may sayunhappy. and with no one to speak to about what ifelt, no jane to comfort me and say that i had not been so very weak and vain andnonsensical as i knew i had! oh! how i wanted you!" "how unfortunate that you should have usedsuch very strong expressions in speaking of wickham to mr. darcy, for now they doappear wholly undeserved." "certainly.

but the misfortune of speaking withbitterness is a most natural consequence of the prejudices i had been encouraging.there is one point on which i want your advice. i want to be told whether i ought, or oughtnot, to make our acquaintances in general understand wickham's character." miss bennet paused a little, and thenreplied, "surely there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully.what is your opinion?" "that it ought not to be attempted. mr. darcy has not authorised me to make hiscommunication public.

on the contrary, every particular relativeto his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself; and if i endeavourto undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will believe me? the general prejudice against mr. darcy isso violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in meryton to attemptto place him in an amiable light. i am not equal to it. wickham will soon be gone; and therefore itwill not signify to anyone here what he really is. some time hence it will be all found out,and then we may laugh at their stupidity in

not knowing it before.at present i will say nothing about it." "you are quite right. to have his errors made public might ruinhim for ever. he is now, perhaps, sorry for what he hasdone, and anxious to re-establish a character. we must not make him desperate."the tumult of elizabeth's mind was allayed by this conversation. she had got rid of two of the secrets whichhad weighed on her for a fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in jane,whenever she might wish to talk again of

either. but there was still something lurkingbehind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. she dared not relate the other half of mr.darcy's letter, nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been valued by herfriend. here was knowledge in which no one couldpartake; and she was sensible that nothing less than a perfect understanding betweenthe parties could justify her in throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. "and then," said she, "if that veryimprobable event should ever take place, i

shall merely be able to tell what bingleymay tell in a much more agreeable manner the liberty of communication cannot be minetill it has lost all its value!" she was now, on being settled at home, atleisure to observe the real state of her sister's spirits. jane was not happy.she still cherished a very tender affection for bingley. having never even fancied herself in lovebefore, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and, from her age anddisposition, greater steadiness than most first attachments often boast; and so

fervently did she value his remembrance,and prefer him to every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention tothe feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those regrets which must have been injurious to her ownhealth and their tranquillity. "well, lizzy," said mrs. bennet one day,"what is your opinion now of this sad business of jane's? for my part, i am determined never to speakof it again to anybody. i told my sister phillips so the other day.but i cannot find out that jane saw anything of him in london.

well, he is a very undeserving young man--and i do not suppose there's the least chance in the world of her ever getting himnow. there is no talk of his coming tonetherfield again in the summer; and i have inquired of everybody, too, who is likelyto know." "i do not believe he will ever live atnetherfield any more." "oh well! it is just as he chooses.nobody wants him to come. though i shall always say he used mydaughter extremely ill; and if i was her, i would not have put up with it. well, my comfort is, i am sure jane willdie of a broken heart; and then he will be

sorry for what he has done." but as elizabeth could not receive comfortfrom any such expectation, she made no answer. "well, lizzy," continued her mother, soonafterwards, "and so the collinses live very comfortable, do they?well, well, i only hope it will last. and what sort of table do they keep? charlotte is an excellent manager, i daresay. if she is half as sharp as her mother, sheis saving enough. there is nothing extravagant in theirhousekeeping, i dare say."

"no, nothing at all.""a great deal of good management, depend upon it. yes, yes. they will take care not to outruntheir income. they will never be distressed for money.well, much good may it do them! and so, i suppose, they often talk ofhaving longbourn when your father is dead. they look upon it as quite their own, idare say, whenever that happens." "it was a subject which they could notmention before me." "no; it would have been strange if theyhad; but i make no doubt they often talk of it between themselves.

well, if they can be easy with an estatethat is not lawfully their own, so much the better.i should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me."

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