OF THE 
 
 U N I VERS ITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Miss Ethel Ricker 
 
 from the 
 Litirary of her Father 
 Nathan Clifford Ricker 
 Head of the Department of 
 Architecture, 1873-1911 
 
 V. 2 
 
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 sponsible for its return on or before the 
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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 MAR 30 
 
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THE NOVELS AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 JANE AUSTEN 
 
Ah 
 
ATHENAEUM EDITION 
 
 THE 
 NOVELS OF 
 
 VOLUME II 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 THE ATHENAEUM CLUB 
 New York 
 
Copyright, 1892, 
 By Roberts Brothers. 
 
 Hntbcrsttg i^rcss: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 T is a truth universally acknowledged, 
 that a single man in possession of a 
 good fortune must be in want of a 
 wife. 
 
 However little known the feelings or views of 
 such a man may be on his first entering a neigh- 
 borhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of 
 the surrounding families that he is considered as 
 the rightful property of some one or other of their 
 daughters. 
 
 ^'My dear Mr. Bennet,'' said his lady to him 
 one day, *^have you heard that Netherfield Park 
 is let at last?'' 
 
 Mr. Bennet replied that he had not. 
 
 *'But it is,'' returned she; ^'for Mrs. Long has 
 just been here, and she told me all about it." 
 
 Mr. Bennet made no answer. 
 
6 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Do not you want to know who has taken it? " 
 cried his wife, impatiently. 
 
 You want to tell me, and I have no ohjection 
 to hearing it.'' 
 
 This was invitation enough. 
 ^^Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long 
 says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of 
 large fortune from the north of England; that he 
 came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see 
 the place, and was so much delighted with it that 
 he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately ; that he 
 is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some 
 of his servants are to be in the house by the end of 
 next week.'' 
 
 What is his name? " 
 ^^Bingley." 
 
 Is he married or single? " 
 
 Oh, single, my dear, to be sure! A single 
 man of large fortune ; four or five thousand a year. 
 What a fine thing for our girls ! " 
 
 How so? how can it affect them? '* 
 ^^My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, ^^how 
 can jon be so tiresome? You must know that I 
 am thinking of his marrying one of them." 
 
 Is that his design in settling here? " 
 
 Design? nonsense, how can you talk so! But 
 it is very likely that he may fall in love with one 
 of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon 
 as he comes." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 7 
 
 I see no occasion for that. You and the girls 
 may go, or you may send them by themselves, 
 which perhaps will be still better; for as you are 
 as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might 
 like you the best of the party." 
 
 ^^My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have 
 had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be 
 anything extraordinary now. When a woman has 
 five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over 
 thinking of her own beauty." 
 
 *^In such cases a woman has not often much 
 beauty to thiuk of." 
 
 ^'But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. 
 Bingley when he comes into the neighborhood." 
 
 ^' It is more than I engage for, I assure you." 
 
 '^But consider your daughters. Only think 
 what an establishment it would be for one of them ! 
 Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, 
 merely on that account; for in general, you know, 
 they visit no new-comers. Indeed you must go; 
 for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you 
 do not." 
 
 *^You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say 
 Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you ; and I 
 will send a few lines by you to assure him of my 
 hearty consent to his marrying whichever he 
 chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a 
 good word for my little Lizzy." 
 
 I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is 
 
8 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 not a bit better than the others ; and I am sure she 
 is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good- 
 humored as Lydia. But you are always giving 
 her the preference. 
 
 ^^They have none of them much to recommend 
 them," replied he: ^^they are all silly and igno- 
 rant, like other girls; but Lizzy has something 
 more of quickness than her sisters." 
 
 ''Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own 
 children in such a way? You take delight in 
 vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor 
 nerves." 
 
 '' You mistake me, my dear. I have a high re- 
 spect for your nerves. They are my old friends. 
 I have heard you mention them with consideration 
 these twenty years at least." 
 
 '' Ah, you do not know what I suffer." 
 
 ''But I hope you wall get over it, and live to 
 see many young men of four thousand a year come 
 into the neighborhood." 
 
 " It will be no use to us, if twenty such should 
 come, since you will not visit them." 
 
 "Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are 
 twenty, I will visit them all." 
 
 Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, 
 sarcastic humor, reserve, and caprice, that the 
 experience of three-and-twenty years had been 
 insufficient to make his wife understand his char- 
 acter. Her mind was less difficult to develop. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 9 
 
 She was a woman of mean understanding, little in- 
 formation, and uncertain temper. When she was 
 discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The 
 business of her life was to get her daughters mar- 
 ried j its solace was visiting and news. 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who 
 waited on Mr. Bingley. He had always intended 
 to visit him, though to the last always assuring 
 his wife that he should not go ; and till the even- 
 ing after the visit was paid she had no knowledge 
 of it. It was then disclosed in the following 
 manner. Ohserving his second daughter employed 
 in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her 
 with, — 
 
 '^I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy." 
 We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bing- 
 ley likes,'' said her mother, resentfully, since 
 we are not to visit." 
 
 ^^But you forget, mamma," said Elizaheth, 
 'Hhat we shall meet him at the assemhlies, and 
 that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him." 
 
 do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such 
 thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a 
 selfish hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion 
 of her." 
 
 *'No more have I," said Mr. Bennet; ^^and I 
 am glad to find that you do not depend on hei 
 serving you." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 11 
 
 Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; 
 but unable to contain herself, began scolding one 
 of her daughters. 
 
 Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's 
 sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. 
 You tear them to pieces.'' 
 
 Kitty has no discretion in her coughs," said 
 her father; she times them ill." 
 
 *^Ido not cough for my own amusement," re- 
 plied Kitty, fretfully. When is your next ball 
 to be, Lizzy? " 
 
 To-morrow fortnight." 
 
 '^Ay, so it is," cried her mother, ''and Mrs. 
 Long does not come back till the day before ; so it 
 will be impossible for her to introduce him, for 
 she will not know him herself." 
 
 ''Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of 
 your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her." 
 
 "Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I 
 am not acquainted with him myself; how can you 
 be so teasing? " 
 
 "I honor your circumspection. A fortnight's 
 acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot 
 know what a man really is by the end of a fort- 
 night. But if we do not venture, somebody else 
 will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must 
 stand their chance; and therefore, as she will 
 think it an act of kindness, if you decline the 
 office, I will take it on myself." 
 
12 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet 
 said only, Nonsense, nonsense! " 
 
 ^'What can be the meaning of that emphatic 
 exclamation?'' cried he. ^'Do you consider the 
 forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid 
 on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with 
 you there. What say you, Mary? — for you are a 
 young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read 
 great books, and make extracts.'' 
 
 Mary wished to say something very sensible, but 
 knew not how. 
 
 While Mary is adjusting her ideas," he con- 
 tinued, let us return to Mr. Bingley." 
 
 "I am sick of Mr. Bingley," cried his wife, 
 am sorry to hear that; but why did not you 
 tell me so before? If I had known as much this 
 morning, I certainly would not have called on 
 him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually 
 paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance 
 now." 
 
 The astonishment of the ladies was just what he 
 wished, — that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing 
 the rest ; though when the first tumult of joy was 
 over, she began to declare that it was what she 
 had expected all the while. 
 
 '^How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! 
 But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was 
 sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such 
 an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICEo 13 
 
 is sucli a good joke, too, that you should have gone 
 this morning, and never said a word about it till 
 now/' 
 
 **Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you 
 choose,'' said Mr. Bennet; and as he spoke, he 
 left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his 
 wife. 
 
 What an excellent father you have, girls!" 
 said she, when the door was shut. '^I do not 
 •know how you will ever make him amends for his 
 kindness; or me, either, for that matter. At our 
 time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, 
 to be making new acquaintance every day; but for 
 your sakes we would do anything. Lydia, my 
 love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. 
 Bingley will dance with you at the next ball." 
 
 *'0h," said Lydia, stoutly, ^^I am not afraid j 
 for though I am the youngest, I 'm the tallest." 
 
 The rest of the evening was spent in conjectur- 
 ing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet's visit, 
 and determining when they should ask him to 
 dinner. 
 
CHAPTER m. '> 
 
 Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the 
 assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the 
 suhject, was sufficient to draw from her husband 
 any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. 
 They attacked him in various ways, — with bare- 
 faced questions, ingenious suppositions, and dis- 
 tant surmises ; but he eluded the skill of them all, 
 and they were at last obliged to accept the second- 
 hand intelligence of their neighbor, Lady Lucas. 
 Her report was highly favorable. Sir William 
 had been delighted with him. He was quite 
 young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agree- 
 able, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at 
 the next assembly with a large party. Nothing 
 could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing 
 was a certain step towards falling in love; and 
 very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley's heart were 
 entertained. 
 
 *^If I can but see one of my daughters happily 
 settled at Netherfield,'' said Mrs. Bennet to her 
 husband, '^and all the others equally well mar- 
 ried, I shall have nothing to wish for.'' 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 15 
 
 In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Ben- 
 net's visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in 
 his library. He had entertained hopes of being 
 admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose 
 beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the 
 father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, 
 for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from 
 an upper window, that he wore a blue coat and 
 rode a black horse. 
 
 An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards 
 despatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned 
 the courses that were to do credit to her house- 
 keeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it 
 all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the 
 following day, and consequently unable to accept 
 the honor of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet 
 was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine 
 what business he could have in town so soon after 
 his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to 
 fear that he might always be flying about from 
 one place to another, and never settled at Nether- 
 field as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her 
 fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone 
 to London only to get a large party for the ball; 
 and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was 
 to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with 
 him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such 
 a number of ladies; but were comforted the day 
 before the ball by hearing that, instead of twelve. 
 
16 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 he had brought only six with him from London, 
 his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party 
 entered the assembly-room, it consisted of only 
 five all together, — Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the 
 husband of the eldest, and another young man. 
 
 Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentleman- 
 like; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, 
 unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, 
 with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in- 
 law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but 
 his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of 
 the room by his fine, tall person, handsome feat- 
 ures, noble mien, and the report, which was in 
 general circulation within five minutes after his 
 entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The 
 gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a 
 man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer 
 than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great 
 admiration for about half the evening, till his 
 manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of 
 his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, 
 to be above his company and above being pleased; 
 and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could 
 then save him from having a most forbidding, dis- 
 agreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be 
 compared with his friend. 
 
 Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted 
 with all the principal people in the room: he was 
 lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 17 
 
 angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of 
 giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable 
 qualities must speak for themselves. What a con- 
 trast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy 
 danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with 
 Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any 
 other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in 
 walking about the room, speaking occasionally to 
 one of his own party. His character was decided. 
 He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the 
 world, and everybody hoped that he would never 
 come there again. Amongst the most violent 
 against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his 
 general behavior was sharpened into particular 
 resentment by his having slighted one of her 
 daughters. 
 
 Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the 
 scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances ; 
 and during part of that time Mr. Darcy had been 
 standing near enough for her to overhear a conver- 
 sation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came 
 from the dance for a few minutes to press his friend 
 to join it. 
 
 '^Come, Darcy,'' said he, ^'1 must have you 
 dance. I hate to see you standing about by your- 
 self in this stupid manner. You had much better 
 dance." 
 
 I certainly shall not. You know how I detest 
 it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my 
 
 VOL. I. — 2 
 
18 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 partner. At such an assembly as this it would 
 be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and 
 there is not another woman in the room whom 
 it would not be a punishment to me to stand up 
 with/' 
 
 ^'I would not be so fastidious as you are/' cried 
 Bingley, *^for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I 
 never met with so many pleasant girls in my life 
 as I have this evening; and there are several of 
 them, you see, uncommonly pretty.'' 
 
 You are dancing with the only handsome girl 
 in the room," said Mr. Darcy, looking at the 
 eldest Miss Bennet. 
 
 Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever 
 beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting 
 down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I 
 dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my part- 
 ner to introduce you." 
 
 Which do you mean?" and turning round, 
 he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till, catching 
 her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said: 
 *'She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to 
 tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to 
 give consequence to young ladies who are slighted 
 by other men. You had better return to your 
 partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting 
 your time with me." 
 
 Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy 
 walked off ; and Elizabeth remained with no very 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 19 
 
 cordial feelings towards him. She told the story, 
 however, with great spirit among her friends ; for 
 she had a livel}^, playful disposition, which de- 
 lighted in anything ridiculous. 
 
 The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to 
 the whole family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her 
 eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield 
 party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, 
 and she had been distinguished by his sisters. 
 Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother 
 could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt 
 Jane's pleasure. Mary had heard herself men- 
 tioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished 
 girl in the neighborhood; and Catherine and 
 Lydia had been fortunate enough to be never 
 without partners, which was all that they had yet 
 learned to care for at a ball. They returned, 
 therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village 
 where they lived, and of which they were the 
 principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet 
 still up. With a book, he was regardless of time; 
 and on the present occasion he had a good deal of 
 curiosity as to the event of an evening which had 
 raised such splendid expectations. He had rather 
 hoped that all his wife's views on the stranger 
 would be disappointed ; but he soon found that he 
 had a very different story to hear. 
 
 **0h, my dear Mr. Bennet,'' as she entered the 
 room, ^' we have had a most delightful evening, a 
 
20 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. 
 Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. 
 Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. 
 Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced 
 with her twice. Only think of that, my dear : he 
 actually danced with her twice; and she was the 
 only creature in the room that he asked a second 
 time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was 
 so vexed to see him stand up with her; but, how- 
 ever, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody 
 can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with 
 Jane as she was going down the dance. So he 
 inquired who she was, and got introduced, and 
 asked her for the two next. Then the two third 
 he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth 
 with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane 
 again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the 
 Boulanger — 
 
 ^^If he had had any compassion for me,'' cried 
 her husband, impatiently, *^he would not have 
 danced half so much! For God's sake, say no 
 more of his partners. Oh that he had sprained 
 his ankle in the first dance! " 
 
 "Oh, my dear," continued Mrs. Bennet, "I 
 am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively 
 handsome! and his sisters are charming women. 
 I never in my life saw anything more elegant than 
 their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. 
 Hurst's gown — " 
 
PEroE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 21 
 
 Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet 
 protested against any description of finery. She 
 was therefore obliged to seek another branch of 
 the subject, and related, with much bitterness of 
 spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rude- 
 ness of Mr. Darcy. 
 
 *'But I can assure you,'' she added, ^Hhat 
 Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; 
 for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at 
 all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited 
 that there was no enduring him ! He walked here, 
 and he walked there, fancying himself so very 
 great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I 
 wish you had been there, my dear, to have given 
 him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the 
 man." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the for- 
 mer, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. 
 Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very 
 much she admired him. 
 
 ^^He is just what a young man ought to be,'' 
 said she, ^'sensible, good-humored, lively; and I 
 never saw such happy manners, — so much ease, 
 with such perfect good-breeding! " 
 
 *^He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, 
 which a young man ought likewise to be 
 if he possibly can. His character is thereby 
 complete." 
 
 I was very much flattered by his asking me 
 to dance a second time. I did not expect such a 
 compliment." 
 
 Did not you? I did for you. But that is one 
 great difference between us. Compliments always 
 take you by surprise, and me never. What could 
 be more natural than his asking you again? He 
 could not help seeing that you were about five 
 times as pretty as every other woman in the room. 
 Ko thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, lie 
 certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 23 
 
 to like him. You have liked many a stupider 
 person.'' 
 
 Dear Lizzy! '' 
 
 "Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to 
 like people in general. You never see a fault in 
 anybody. All the world are good and agreeable 
 in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a 
 human being in my life.'' 
 
 " I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any 
 one; but I always speak what I think." 
 
 "I know you do; and it is that which makes 
 the wonder. With your good sense, to be so 
 honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of 
 others ! Affectation of candor is common enough ; 
 one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid 
 without ostentation or design — to take the good 
 of everybody's character and make it still better, 
 and say nothing of the bad — belongs to you 
 alone. And so you like this man's sisters, too, 
 do you? Their manners are not equal to his." 
 
 "Certainly not, at first; but they are very 
 pleasing women when you converse with them. 
 Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and 
 keep his house; and I am much mistaken if 
 we shall not find a very charming neighbor in 
 her." 
 
 Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not con- 
 vinced: their behavior at the assembly had not 
 been calculated to please in general; and with 
 
24 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 more quickness of observation and less pliancy of 
 temper tlian her sister, and with a judgment, too, 
 unassailed by any attention to herself, she was 
 very little disposed to approve them. They were, 
 in fact, very fine ladies; not deficient in good- 
 humor when they were pleased, nor in the power 
 of being agreeable where they chose it, but proud 
 and conceited. They were rather handsome; had 
 been educated in one of the first private seminaries 
 in town; had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds; 
 were in the habit of spending more than they 
 ought, and of associating with people of rank; and 
 were therefore in every respect entitled to think 
 well of themselves and meanly of others. They 
 were of a respectable family in the north of Eng- 
 land; a circumstance more deeply impressed on 
 their memories than that their brother's fortune 
 and their own had been acquired by trade. 
 
 Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount 
 of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his 
 father, who had intended to purchase an estate, 
 but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it 
 likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county ; 
 but as he was now provided with a good house 
 and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to 
 many of those who best knew the easiness of his 
 temper, whether he might not spend the remainder 
 of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next 
 generation to purchase. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 25 
 
 His sisters were very anxious for his having an 
 estate of his ownj but though he was now es- 
 tablished only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by 
 no means unwilling to preside at his table; nor 
 was Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of 
 more fashion than fortune, less disposed to con- 
 sider his house as her home when it suited her. 
 Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years when 
 he was tempted, by an accidental recommendation, 
 to look at Netherfield house. He did look at it 
 and into it for half an hour; was pleased with 
 the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied 
 with what the owner said in its praise, and took 
 it immediately. 
 
 Between him and Darcy there was a very steady 
 friendship, in spite of a great opposition of char- 
 acter. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the 
 easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, 
 though no disposition could offer a greater con- 
 trast to his own, and though with his own he 
 never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of 
 Darcy's regard Bingley had the firmest reliance, 
 and of his judgment the highest opinion. In 
 understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley 
 was by no means deficient; but Darcy was clever. 
 He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and 
 fastidious; and his manners, though well bred, 
 were not inviting. In that respect his friend had 
 greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being 
 
26 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 liked wherever lie appeared; Darcy was continually 
 giving offence. 
 
 The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton 
 assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley 
 had never met with pleasanter people or prettier 
 girls in his life; everybody had been most kind 
 and attentive to him ; there had been no formality, 
 no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all 
 the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not 
 conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the 
 contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom 
 there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of 
 whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from 
 none received either attention or pleasure. Miss 
 Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty; but she 
 smiled too much. 
 
 Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so; 
 but still they admired her and liked her, and pro- 
 nounced lier to be a sweet girl, and one whom 
 the}'' should not object to know more of. Miss 
 Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl; 
 and their brother felt authorized by such commen- 
 dation to think of her as he chose. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 "Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family 
 with whom the Bennets were particularly inti- 
 mate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in 
 trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable 
 fortune, and risen to the honor of knighthood by 
 an address to the king during his mayoralty. 
 The distinction had, perhaps, been felt too 
 strongly. It had given him a disgust to his busi- 
 ness and to his residence in a small market townj 
 and quitting them both, he had removed with his 
 family to a house about a mile from Meryton, 
 denominated from that period Lucas Lodge ; where 
 he could think with pleasure of his own im- 
 portance, and unshackled by business, occupy 
 himself solely in being civil to all the world. 
 For though elated by his rank, it did not render 
 him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all 
 attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, 
 friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. 
 James's had made him courteous. 
 
 Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not 
 too clever to be a valuable neighbor to Mrs. Ben- 
 net. They had several children. The eldest of 
 
28 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 them — a sensible, intelligent young woman, about 
 twenty-seven — was Elizabeth's intimate friend. 
 
 That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets 
 should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely 
 necessary; and the morning after the assembly 
 brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to 
 communicate. 
 
 You began the evening well, Charlotte, said 
 Mrs. Bennet, with civil self-command, to Miss 
 Lucas. You were Mr. Bingley's first choice. 
 Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.'' 
 
 *^0h, you mean Jane, I suppose, because he 
 danced with her twice. To be sure, that did seem 
 as if he admired her, — indeed, I rather believe he 
 did, — I heard something about it, — but I hardly 
 know what, — something about Mr. Robinson." 
 
 Perhaps you mean what I overheard between 
 him and Mr. E-obinson: did not I mention it to 
 you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he liked 
 our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not 
 think there were a great many pretty women in 
 the room, and which he thought the prettiest; 
 and his answering immediately to the last ques- 
 tion, ^ Oh, the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt ; 
 there cannot be two opinions on that point.' " 
 
 ^^Upon my word! Well, that was very de- 
 cided, indeed; that does seem as if — But, how- 
 ever, it may all come to nothing, you know." 
 
 **My overhearings were more to the purpose 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 29 
 
 than yours, Eliza/' said Charlotte. ^^Mr. Darcy 
 is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is 
 he? Poor Eliza! to be only just tolerable." 
 
 ^'1 beg you will not put it into Lizzy's head to 
 be vexed by his ill-treatment, for he is such a dis- 
 agreeable man that it would be quite a misfortune 
 to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night 
 that he sat close to her for half an hour without 
 once opening his lips." 
 
 ''Are you quite sure, ma'am? Is not there a 
 little mistake?" said Jane. ''I certainly saw 
 Mr. Darcy speaking to her." 
 
 ''Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked 
 Ketherfield, and he could not help answering her; 
 but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to." 
 
 "Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he 
 never speaks much unless among his intimate ac- 
 quaintance. With them he is remarkably agree- 
 able." 
 
 " I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he 
 had been so very agreeable, he would have talked 
 to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was ; every- 
 body says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare 
 say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does 
 not keep a carriage, and had to come to the ball 
 in a hack chaise." 
 
 " I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," 
 said Miss Lucas; "but I wish he had danced with 
 Eliza." 
 
30 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 "Another time, Lizzy," said her mother, 1 
 would not dance with him, if I were you.'' 
 
 "I believe, ma'am, I may safely promise you 
 never to dance with him." 
 
 "His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not of- 
 fend me so much as pride often does, because 
 there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder 
 that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, 
 everything in his favor, should think highly of 
 himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to 
 be proud." 
 
 "That is very true," replied Elizabeth, "and 
 I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not 
 mortified mine." 
 
 "Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself 
 upon the solidity of her reflections, "is a very 
 common failing, I believe. By all that I have 
 ever read, I am convinced that it is very common 
 indeed; that human nature is particularly prone 
 to it, and that there are very few of us who do not 
 cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score 
 of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Van- 
 ity and pride are different things, though the 
 words are often used synonymously. A person 
 may be proud without being vain. Pride relates 
 more to our opinion of ourselves j vanity to what 
 we would have others think of us." 
 
 "If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy," cried a 
 young Lucas, who came with his sisters, "I 
 
PBIDE AND PREJUDICE. 31 
 
 should not care how proud I was. I would keep 
 a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine 
 every day.'' 
 
 '^Then you would drink a great deal more than 
 you ought," said Mrs. Bennet; ^^and if I were 
 to see you at it, I should take away your bottle 
 directly." 
 
 The boy protested that she should not; she 
 continued to declare that she would; and the ar- 
 g-ument ended only with the visit. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of 
 Netherfield. The visit was returned in due form. 
 Miss Bennetts pleasing manners grew on the 
 good-will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and 
 though the mother was found to be intolerable, 
 and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a 
 wish of being better acquainted with them was 
 expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane this 
 attention was received with the greatest pleasure; 
 but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their 
 treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even 
 her sister, and could not like them; though their 
 kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as 
 arising, in all probability, from the influence of 
 their brother's admiration. It was generally evi- 
 dent, whenever they met, that he did admire her; 
 and to her it was equally evident that Jane was 
 yielding to the preference which she had begun to 
 entertain for him from the first, and was in a way 
 to be very much in love; but she considered with 
 pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered 
 by the world in general, since Jane united with 
 great strength of feeling a composure of temper 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 33 
 
 and an uniform cheerfulness of manner, which 
 would guard her from the suspicions of the imper- 
 tinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss 
 Lucas. 
 
 '^It may, perhaps, be pleasant," replied Char- 
 lotte, ^^to be able to impose on the public in such 
 a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be 
 so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affec- 
 tion with the same skill from the object of it, 
 she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and 
 it will then be but poor consolation to believe 
 the world equally in the dark. There is so much 
 of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, 
 that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can 
 all begin freely, — a slight preference is natural 
 enough; but there are very few of us who have 
 heart enough to be really in love without encour- 
 agement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had 
 better show more affection than she feels. Bingley 
 likes your sister undoubtedly ; but he may never do 
 more than like her, if she does not help him on." 
 
 *'But she does help him on, as much as her 
 nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard 
 for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to 
 discover it too." 
 
 ^'Kemember, Eliza, that he does not know 
 Jane's disposition as you do." 
 
 ''But if a woman is partial to a man, and does 
 not endeavor to conceal > he must find it out." 
 
 VOL. I. — 3 
 
34 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Perhaps he must if he sees enough of her. 
 But though Bingley and Jane meet tolerahly 
 often, it is never for many hours together; and as 
 they always see each other in large mixed parties, 
 it is impossible that every moment should be em- 
 ployed in conversing together. Jane should there- 
 fore make the most of every half-hour in which 
 she can command his attention. When she is 
 secure of him, there will he leisure for falling in 
 love as much as she chooses.'' 
 
 **Your plan is a good one,'' replied Elizabeth, 
 ''where nothing is in question but the desire of 
 being well married; and if I were determined to 
 get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I 
 should adopt it. But these are not Jane's feel- 
 ings; she is not acting by design. As yet she 
 cannot even be certain of the degree of her own 
 regard, nor of its reasonableness. She has known 
 him only a fortnight. She danced four dances 
 with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning 
 at his own house, and has since dined in company 
 with him four times. This is not quite enough 
 to make her understand his character." 
 
 ''Not as you represent it. Had she merely 
 dined with him, she might only have discovered 
 whether he had a good appetite; but you must 
 remember that four evenings have been also spent 
 together — and four evenings may do a great 
 deal." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 35 
 
 *'Yes: these four evenings have enabled them 
 to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better 
 than Commerce; but with respect to any other 
 leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much 
 has been unfolded.'' 
 
 *'Well," said Charlotte, ^^I wish Jane success 
 with all my heart; and if she were married to him 
 to-morrow, I should think she had as good a 
 chance of happiness as if she were to be studying 
 his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in 
 marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the 
 dispositions of the parties are ever so well known 
 to each other, or ever so similar beforehand, it 
 does not advance their felicity in the least. They 
 always continue to grow sufficiently unlike after- 
 wards to have their share of vexation; and it is 
 better to know as little as possible of the defects 
 of the person with whom you are to pass your life." 
 
 *^Youmakeme laugh, Charlotte; but it is not 
 sound. You know it is not sound, and that you 
 would never act in this way yourself." 
 
 Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions 
 to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting 
 that she was herself becoming an object of some 
 interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had 
 at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty: he had 
 looked at her without admiration at the ball; and 
 when they next met, he looked at her only to criti- 
 cise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself 
 
36 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 and his friends that she had hardly a good feature 
 m her face than he began to find it was rendered 
 uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression 
 of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some 
 others equally mortifying. Though he had detected 
 with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect 
 symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowl- 
 edge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in 
 spite of his asserting that her manners were not 
 those of the fashionable world, he was caught by 
 their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly 
 unaware: to her he was only the man who made 
 himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not 
 thought her handsome enough to dance with. 
 
 He began to wish to know more of her; and as 
 a step towards conversing with her himself, at- 
 tended to her conversation with others. His doing 
 so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas's, 
 where a large party were assembled. 
 
 ^^What does Mr. Darcy mean,'' said she to 
 Charlotte, ^^by listening to my conversation with 
 Colonel Torster?" 
 
 ^^That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can 
 answer." 
 
 ^^But if he does it any more, I shall certainly 
 let him know that I see what he is about. He has 
 a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by be- 
 ing impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid 
 of him." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 37 
 
 On his approaching them soon afterwards, though 
 without seeming to have any intention of speaking, 
 Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such 
 a subject to him, which immediately provoking 
 Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said, — 
 
 ^'Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I ex- 
 pressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I 
 was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at 
 Meryton?'' 
 
 *^With great energy; but it is a subject which 
 always makes a lady energetic.'' 
 You are severe on us.'' 
 
 *^It will be her turn soon to be teased," said 
 Miss Lucas. ^^I am going to open the instru- 
 ment, Eliza, and you know what follows." 
 
 ''You are a very strange creature by way of a 
 friend! — always wanting me to play and sing be- 
 fore anybody and everybody! If my vanity had 
 taken a musical turn, you would have been invalu- 
 able; but as it is, I would really rather not sit 
 down before those who must be in the habit of 
 hearing the very best performers." On Miss 
 Lucas's persevering, however, she added, ''Very 
 well; if it must be so, it must." And gravely 
 glancing at Mr. Darcy, '' There is a very fine 
 old saying, which everybody here is of course fa- 
 miliar with, — 'Keep your breath to cool your 
 porridge,' — and I shall keep mine to swell my 
 song." 
 
38 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Her performance was pleasing, tkougli Tby no 
 means capital. After a song or two, and before 
 she could reply to the entreaties of several that she 
 would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the 
 instrument by her sister Mary, who, having, in 
 consequence of being the only plain one in the 
 family, worked hard for knowledge and accom- 
 plishments, was always impatient for display. 
 
 Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though 
 vanity had given her application, it had given her 
 likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, 
 which would have injured a higher degree of ex- 
 cellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy 
 and unaffected, had been listened to with much 
 more pleasure, though not playing half so well; 
 and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was 
 glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch 
 and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sis- 
 ters, who with some of the Lucases, and two or 
 three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one 
 end of the room. 
 
 Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation 
 at such a mode of passing the evening, to the ex- 
 clusion of all conversation, and was too much 
 engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir 
 William Lucas was his neighbor, till Sir William 
 thus began : — 
 
 ^^What a charming amusement for young peo- 
 ple this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 39 
 
 dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first 
 refinements of polished societies. 
 
 Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also 
 of heing in vogue amongst the less polished socie- 
 ties of the world: every savage can dance." 
 
 Sir William only smiled. **Your friend per- 
 forms delightfully,'' he continued, after a pause, 
 on seeing Bingley join the group; and I doubt 
 not that you are an adept in the science yourself, 
 Mr. Darcy." 
 
 *^You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, 
 sir.'' 
 
 ^^Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable 
 pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at 
 St. James's ?" 
 Never, sir." 
 
 Do you not think it would be a proper compli- 
 ment to the place? " 
 
 *^It is a compliment which I never pay to any 
 place if I can avoid it." 
 
 You have a house in town, I conclude." \ 
 Mr. Darcy bowed. 
 
 "I had once some thoughts of fixing in town 
 myself, for I am fond of superior society; but I 
 did not feel quite certain that the air of London 
 would agree with Lady Lucas." 
 
 He paused in hopes of an answer: but his com- 
 panion was not disposed to make any; and, Elizar 
 beth at that instant moving towards them, he waa 
 
40 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 struck witli the notion of doing a very gallant 
 thing, and called out to her, — 
 
 My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? 
 Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this 
 young lady to you as a very desirable partner. 
 You cannot refuse to dauce, I am sure, when so 
 much beauty is before you.'' And taking her 
 hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, 
 though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to 
 receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said 
 with some discomposure to Sir William, — 
 
 Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of 
 dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I 
 moved this way in order to beg for a partner.'' 
 
 Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to 
 be allowed the honor of her hand, but in vain. 
 Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at 
 all shake her purpose b}'- his attempt at persuasion. 
 
 * * You excel so much in the dance. Miss Eliza, 
 that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing 
 you; and though this gentleman dislikes the 
 amusement in general, he can have no objection, 
 I am sure, to oblige us for one half -hour." 
 
 *^Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Elizabeth, 
 smiling. 
 
 *'He is, indeed; but considering the induce- 
 ment, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at 
 his complaisance; for who would object to such a 
 partner? ^* 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 41 
 
 Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her 
 resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, 
 and he was thinking of her with some complacency, 
 when thus accosted by Miss Bingley, — 
 
 " I can guess the subject of your reverie.'' 
 
 ^'1 should imagine not." 
 
 ^'You are considering how insupportable it 
 w^ould be to pass many evenings in this manner, 
 — in such society; and, indeed, I am quite of 
 your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The 
 insipidity and yet the noise, the nothingness 
 and yet the self-importance, of all these people! 
 What would I give to hear your strictures on 
 them! '' 
 
 " Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. 
 My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have 
 been meditating on the very great pleasure which 
 a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman 
 can bestow.'' 
 
 Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his 
 face, and desired he would tell her what lady had 
 the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. 
 Darcy replied, with great intrepidity, — 
 Miss Elizabeth Bennet." 
 
 Miss Elizabeth Bennet! " repeated Miss Bing- 
 ley. ^'1 am all astonishment. How long has 
 she been such a favorite? and pray when am I to 
 wish you joy? " 
 
 *^That is exactly the question which I expected 
 
42 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; 
 it jumps from admiration to love, from love to 
 matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be 
 wishing me joy." 
 
 ^^Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall 
 consider the matter as absolutely settled. You 
 will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and 
 of course she will be always at Pemberley with 
 you.'' 
 
 He listened to her with perfect indifference, 
 while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; 
 and as his composure convinced her that all was 
 safe, her wit flowed along. 
 
CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 Mr. Bennetts property consisted almost entirely 
 in an estate of two thousand a year, which, un- 
 fortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in de- 
 fault of heirs male, on a distant relation ; and their 
 mother's fortune, though ample for her situation 
 in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. 
 Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and 
 had left her four thousand pounds. 
 
 She had a sister married to a Mr. Philips, who 
 had been a clerk to their father, and succeeded him 
 in the business, and a brother settled in London in 
 a respectable line of trade. 
 
 The village of Longbourn was only one mile 
 from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the 
 3^oung ladies, who were usually tempted thither 
 three or four times a week, to pay their duty to 
 their aunt, and to a milliner's shop just over the 
 way. The two youngest of the family, Catherine 
 and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these 
 attentions: their minds were more vacant than 
 their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a 
 walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their 
 morning hours and furnish conversation for the 
 
44 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 evening; and, however bare of news the country in 
 general might be, they always contrived to learn 
 some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they 
 were well supplied both with news and happiness 
 by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the 
 neighborhood; it was to remain the whole winter, 
 and Meryton was the head-quarters. 
 
 Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now produc- 
 tive of the most interesting intelligence. Every 
 day added something to their knowledge of the 
 officers' names and connections. Their lodgings 
 were not long a secret, and at length they began 
 to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips 
 visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a 
 source of felicity unknown before. They could 
 talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley's 
 large fortune, the mention of which gave anima- 
 tion to their mother, was worthless in their eyes 
 when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign. 
 
 After listening one morning to their effusions 
 on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed, — 
 
 From all that I can collect by your manner of 
 talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in 
 the country. I have suspected it some time, but 
 I am now convinced." 
 
 Catherine was disconcerted, and made no an- 
 swer; but Lydia, with perfect indifference, con- 
 tinued to express her admiration of Captain 
 Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 45 
 
 of the day, as he was going the next morning to 
 London. 
 
 '^I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, 
 that you should be so ready to think your own 
 children silly. If I wished to think slightingly 
 of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, 
 however.'' 
 
 ^'If my children are silly, I must hope to be 
 always sensible of it." 
 
 *^Yes; but as it happens, they are all of them 
 very clever." 
 
 ^^This is the only point, I flatter myself, on 
 which we do not agree. I had hoped that our 
 sentiments coincided in every particular, but I 
 must so far differ from you as to think our two 
 youngest daughters uncommonly foolish." 
 
 My dear Mr. Bennet, jou must not expect 
 such girls to have the sense of their father and 
 mother. When they get to our age, I dare say 
 they will not think about officers any more than 
 we do. I remember the time when I liked a red 
 coat myself very well, — and, indeed, so I do still 
 at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with 
 five or six thousand a year, should want one of my 
 girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought 
 Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other 
 night at Sir William's in his regimentals." 
 
 ^ 'Mamma," cried Lydia, ''my aunt says that 
 Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so 
 
46 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first 
 came; she sees them now very often standing in 
 Clarke's library." 
 
 Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the 
 entrance of the footman with a note for Miss 
 Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the ser- 
 vant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes 
 sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly call' 
 ing out, while her daughter read, — 
 
 Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? 
 What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and 
 tell us; make haste, mj love." 
 
 It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then 
 read it aloud : — 
 
 My dear Friend, — If you are not so compassion- 
 ate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in 
 danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives ; for 
 a whole day's tete-a-tete between two women can never 
 end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the 
 receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to 
 dine with the officers. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 Caroline Bingley. 
 
 ^^With the officers!" cried Lydia; I wonder 
 my aunt did not tell us of that." 
 
 Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet; that is 
 very unlucky." 
 
 Can I have the carriage? " said Jane. 
 <^No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 47 
 
 because it seems likely to rain ; and then you must 
 stay all night.'' 
 
 ^^That would be a good scheme/' said Eliza- 
 beth, if you were sure that they would not offer 
 to send her home." 
 
 '^Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bing- 
 ley's chaise to go to Meryton; and the Hursts 
 have no horses to theirs." 
 
 ^' I had much rather go in the coach." 
 
 *^But, my dear, your father cannot spare the 
 horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, 
 Mr. Bennet, are not they? " 
 
 ^^They are wanted in the farm much oftener 
 than I can get them." 
 
 ^*But if you have got them to-day," said Eliza- 
 beth, *^my mother's purpose will be answered." 
 
 She did at last extort from her father an ac- 
 knowledgment that the horses were engaged; Jane 
 was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her 
 mother attended her to the door with many cheer- 
 ful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were 
 answered; Jane had not been gone long before it 
 rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but 
 her mother was delighted. The rain continued 
 the whole evening without intermission; Jane 
 certainly could not come back. 
 
 ^^This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed! " said 
 Mrs. Bennet, more than once, as if the credit of 
 making it rain were all her own. Till the next 
 
48 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 morning, however, she was not aware of all the 
 felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely 
 over when a servant from Netherfield hrought the 
 following note for Elizaheth : — 
 
 My dearest Lizzy, — I find myself very unwell this 
 morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting 
 wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of 
 my returning home till I am better. They insist also on 
 my seeing Mr. Jones — therefore do not be alarmed if you 
 should hear of his having been to mc — and, excepting a 
 sore throat and a headache, there is not much the matter 
 
 ^^^^ Yours, etc. 
 
 ^^Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when 
 Elizabeth had read the note aloud, ^'if your 
 daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, — 
 if she should die, — it would be a comfort to know 
 that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and 
 under your orders." 
 
 *^0h, I am not at all afraid of her dying. 
 People do not die of little trifling colds. She will 
 be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, 
 it is all very well. I would go and see her if I 
 could have the carriage." 
 
 Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, determined to 
 go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; 
 and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her 
 only alternative. She declared her resolution. 
 
 How can you be so silly," cried her mother, 
 
 as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 49 
 
 You will not be fit to be seen when you get 
 there.'' 
 
 ^'1 shall be very fit to see Jane, — which is all 
 I want." 
 
 ^^Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, 
 
 to send for the horses? " 
 
 No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. 
 The distance is nothing, when one has a motive ; 
 only three miles. I shall be back by dinner." 
 
 ''I admire the activity of your benevolence," 
 observed Mary, ^'but every impulse of feeling 
 should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, 
 exertion should always be in proportion to what is 
 required." 
 
 We will go as far as Meryton with you," said 
 Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their com- 
 pany, and the three young ladies set off together. 
 
 **If we make haste," said Lydia, as they 
 walked along, perhaps we may see something of 
 Captain Carter, before he goes." 
 
 In Meryton they parted: the two youngest re- 
 paired to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, 
 and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing 
 field after field at a quick pace, jumping over 
 stiles and springing over puddles with impatient 
 activity, and finding herself at last within view of 
 the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and 
 a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. 
 
 She was shown into the breakfast-parlor, where 
 
 VOL. I. — 4 
 
50 PHIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 all but Jane were assembled, and where her ap- 
 pearance created a great deal of surprise. That 
 she should have walked three miles so early in the 
 day in such dirty weather, and by herself, was al- 
 most incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; 
 and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in 
 contempt for it. She was received, however, very 
 politely by them; and in their brother's manners 
 there was something better than politeness, — there 
 was good-humor and kindness. Mr. Darcy said 
 very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The 
 former was divided between admiration of the bril- 
 liancy which exercise had given to her complexion 
 and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her com- 
 ing so far alone. The latter was thinking only of 
 his breakfast. 
 
 Her inquiries after her sister were not very fa- 
 vorably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and 
 though up, was very feverish, and not well enough 
 to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken 
 to her immediately ; and Jane, who had only been 
 withheld by the fear of giving alarm or incon- 
 venience, from expressing in her note how much 
 she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her 
 entrance. She was not equal, however, to much 
 conversation; and when Miss Bingley left them 
 together, could attempt little beside expressions of 
 gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was 
 treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 51 
 
 When breakfast was over, they were joined by 
 the sisters ; and Elizabeth began to like them her- 
 self, when she saw how much affection and solici- 
 tude they showed for Jane. The apothecary camej 
 and having examined his patient, said, as might 
 be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, 
 and that they must endeavor to get the better of 
 it ; advised her to return to bed, and promised her 
 some draughts. The advice was followed readily, 
 for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head 
 ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room 
 for a moment, nor were the other ladies often 
 absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact 
 nothing to do elsewhere. 
 
 When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that 
 she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Miss 
 Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only 
 wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane 
 testified such concern at parting with her that 
 Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of 
 the chaise into an invitation to remain at Kether- 
 field for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully 
 consented, and a servant was despatched to Long- 
 bourn, to acquaint tlie family with her stay, and 
 bring back a supply of clothes. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSmf OF ILLINOIS 
 
CHAPTER Vin. 
 
 At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and 
 at half -past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. 
 To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and 
 amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguish- 
 ing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley, 
 she could not make a very favorable answer. Jane 
 was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing 
 this, repeated three or four times how much they 
 were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad 
 cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill 
 themselves ; and then thought no more of the mat- 
 ter : and their indifference towards J ane, when not 
 immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the 
 enjoyment of all her original dislike. 
 
 Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the 
 party whom she could regard with any compla- 
 cency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and 
 his attentions to herself most pleasing; and they 
 prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder 
 as she believed she was considered by the others. 
 She had very little notice from any but him. 
 Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her 
 sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 53 
 
 by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, 
 who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards, 
 who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to 
 a ragout, had nothing to say to her. 
 
 When dinner was over, she returned directly to 
 Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon 
 as she was out of the room. Her manners were 
 pronounced to be very bad indeed, — a mixture of 
 pride and impertinence : she had no conversation, 
 no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought 
 the same, and added, — 
 
 " She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, 
 but being an excellent walker. I shall never 
 forget her appearance this morning. She really 
 looked almost wild." 
 
 She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep 
 my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! 
 Why must she be scampering about the country, 
 because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, 
 so blowzy ! ' ' 
 
 '^Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her 
 petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely 
 certain, and the gown which had been let down to 
 hide it not doing its office.'^ 
 
 ^^Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," 
 said Bingley; ^^but this was all lost upon me. I 
 thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably 
 well when she came into the room this morning. 
 Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice." 
 
54 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,'* said 
 Miss Bingleyj and I am inclined to think tliat 
 you would not wish to see your sister make such 
 an exhibition.'' 
 
 Certainly not." 
 
 ^'To walk three miles, or four miles, or five 
 miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, 
 and alone, quite alone! what could she mean by 
 it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of 
 conceited independence, a most country-town in- 
 difference to decorum." 
 
 ^^It shows an affection for her sister that is 
 very pleasing," said Bingley. 
 
 ^'I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss 
 Bingley, in a half whisper, ''that this adven- 
 ture has rather affected your admiration of her 
 fine eyes." 
 
 ^'Not at all," he replied: ''they were bright- 
 ened by the exercise." A short pause followed 
 this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again, — 
 
 " T have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, — 
 she is really a very sweet girl, — and I wish with 
 all my heart she were well settled. But with such 
 a father and mother, and such low connections, I 
 am afraid there is no chance of it." 
 
 " I think I have heard you say that their uncle 
 is an attorney in Meryton? " 
 
 "Yes; and they have another who lives some- 
 where near Cheapside." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 55 
 
 '^That is capital," added her sister; and they 
 both laughed heartily. 
 
 ^^If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheap- 
 side/' cried Bingley, ^^it would not make them 
 one jot less agreeable. 
 
 ^'But it must very materially lessen their 
 chance of marrying men of any consideration in 
 the world/' replied Darcy. 
 
 To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his 
 sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged 
 their mirth for some time at the expense of their 
 dear friend's vulgar relations. 
 
 With a renewal of tenderness, however, they re- 
 paired to her room on leaving the dining-parlor, 
 and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She 
 was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not 
 quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she 
 had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and when it 
 appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she 
 should go dow: -^'^ ' -s herself. On entering the 
 drawing-room, she found the whole party at loo, 
 and was immediately invited to join them; but 
 suspecting them to be playing high, she declined 
 it, and making her sister the excuse, said she 
 would amuse herself, for the short time she could 
 stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her 
 with astonishment. 
 
 ^^Do you prefer reading to cards?'' said hej 
 
 that is rather singular." 
 
56 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 '^Miss Eliza Bennet/' said Miss Bingley, de- 
 spises cards. She is a great reader, and has no 
 pleasure in anything else." 
 
 ^'1 deserve neither such praise nor such cen- 
 sure," cried Elizaheth; I am not a great reader, 
 and I have pleasure in many things." 
 
 ^^In nursing your sister I am sure you have 
 pleasure," said Bingley; ^' and I hope it will soon 
 be increased by seeing her quite well." 
 
 Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then 
 walked towards a table where a few books were 
 lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others ; 
 all that his library afforded. 
 
 " And I wish my collection were larger for your 
 benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fel- 
 low; and though I have not many, I have more 
 than I ever looked into." 
 
 Elizabeth assured him that she could suit her- 
 self perfectly with those in the room. 
 
 ^^I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, ^^that 
 my father should have left so small a collection of 
 books. What a delightful library you have at 
 Pemberley, Mr. Darcy! " 
 
 **It ought to be good," he replied; it has 
 been the work of many generations." 
 
 And then you have added so much to it your- 
 self, — you are always buying books." 
 
 ^'1 cannot comprehend the neglect of a family 
 library in such days as these." 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 57 
 
 ^'^N'eglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that 
 can add to the beauties of that noble place. 
 Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may 
 be half as delightful as Pemberley.'' 
 I wish it may.'' 
 
 ^^But I would really advise you to make your 
 purchase in that neighborhood, and take Pemberley 
 for a kind of model. There is not a finer county 
 in England than Derbyshire.'' 
 
 *^With all my heart: I will buy Pemberley it- 
 self, if Darcy will sell it." 
 
 " I am talking of possibilities, Charles." 
 Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it 
 more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than 
 by imitation." 
 
 Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, 
 as to leave her very little attention for her book; 
 and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the 
 card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bing- 
 ley and his eldest sister, to observe the game. 
 
 Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? " 
 said Miss Bingley; ''will she be as tall as I am?" 
 
 ^' I think she will. She is now about Miss Eliz- 
 abeth Bennet's height, or rather taller." 
 
 ''Howl long to see her again! I never met 
 with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a 
 countenance, such manners, and so extremely ac- 
 complished for her age. Her performance on the 
 pianoforte is exquisite." 
 
68 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 *'lt is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how 
 young ladies can have patience to he so very ac- 
 complished as they all are." 
 
 *^A11 young ladies accomplished! My dear 
 Charles, what do you mean? " 
 
 "Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint 
 tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely 
 know any one who cannot do all this; and I am 
 sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the 
 first time, without being informed that she was 
 very accomplished." 
 
 "Your list of the common extent of accomplish- 
 ments," said Darcy, "has too much truth. The 
 word is applied to many a woman who deserves it 
 no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a 
 screen; but I am very far from agreeing with you 
 in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot 
 boast of knowing more than half a dozen in the 
 whole range of my acquaintance that are really 
 accomplished." 
 
 "Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley. 
 
 "Then," observed Elizabeth, "you must com- 
 prehend a great deal in your idea of an accom- 
 plished woman." 
 
 "Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," cried his faithful assistant, 
 "no one can be really esteemed accomplished who 
 does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. 
 A woman must have a thorough knowledge of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 59 
 
 music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern 
 languages, to deserve tlie word; and, besides all 
 this, she must possess a certain something in her 
 air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, 
 her address and expressions, or the word will be 
 but half deserved. 
 
 ^'All this she must possess,'' added Darcy; 
 ^'and to all she must yet add something more sub- 
 stantial in the improvement of her mind by exten- 
 sive reading." 
 
 '^I am no longer surprised at your knowing 
 only six accomplished women. I rather wonder 
 now at your knowing any.'' 
 
 ^' Are you so severe upon your own sex as to 
 doubt the possibility of all this? " 
 
 I never saw such a woman. I never saw such 
 capacity and taste and application and elegance 
 as you describe united." 
 
 Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out 
 against the injustice of her implied doubt, and 
 were both protesting that they knew many women 
 who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst 
 called them to order, with bitter complaints of 
 their inattention to what was going forward. As 
 all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth 
 soon afterwards left the room. 
 
 Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the 
 door was closed on her, is one of those young 
 ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the 
 
60 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 other sex by undervaluing their own; and with 
 many men I dare say it succeeds; but, in my 
 opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art." 
 
 Undoubtedly,'' replied Darcy, to whom this 
 remark was chiefly addressed, there is meanness 
 in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend 
 to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity 
 to cunning is despicable.'' 
 
 Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with 
 this reply as to continue the subject. 
 
 Elizabeth joined them again only to say that 
 her sister was worse, and that she could not leave 
 her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones's being sent for 
 immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no 
 country advice could be of any service, recom- 
 mended an express to town for one of the most 
 eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; 
 but she was not so unwilling to comply with their 
 brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. 
 Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if 
 Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley 
 was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that 
 they were miserable. They solaced their wretched- 
 ness, however, by duets after supper, while he 
 could find no better relief to his feelings than by 
 giving his housekeeper directions that every pos- 
 sible attention might be paid to the sick lady and 
 her sister. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her 
 sister's room, and in the morning had the pleasure 
 of being able to send a tolerable answer to the in- 
 quiries which she very early received from Mr. 
 Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards 
 from the two elegant ladies who waited on his 
 sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, 
 she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, 
 desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her 
 own judgment of her situation. The note was im- 
 mediately despatched, and its contents as quickly 
 complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by 
 her two youngest girls, reached Netlierfield soon 
 after the family breakfast. 
 
 Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, 
 Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable ; but 
 being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was 
 not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering 
 immediately, as her restoration to health would 
 probably remove her from Netherfield. She would 
 not listen, therefore, to her daughter's proposal of 
 being carried home; neither did the apothecary, 
 who arrived about the same time, think it at all 
 
62 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, 
 on Miss Bingley's appearance and invitation, the 
 mother and three daughters all attended her into 
 the breakfast-parlor. Bingley met them with 
 hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss 
 Bennet worse than she expected. 
 
 Indeed I have, sir,'' was her answer. '^She 
 is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones 
 says we must not think of moving her. We must 
 trespass a little longer on your kindness.'' 
 
 *'Bemoved!" cried Bingley. ^'It must not 
 be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not 
 hear of her removal." 
 
 You may depend upon it, madam," said Miss 
 Bingley, with cold civility, ^^that Miss Bennet 
 shall receive every possible attention while she 
 remains with us." 
 
 Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. 
 
 ^'1 am sure," she added, ii it was not for such 
 good friends, I do not know what would become of 
 her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast 
 deal, though with the greatest patience in the 
 world, which is always the way with her, for she 
 has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever 
 met with. I often tell my other girls they are 
 nothing to her. You have a sweet room here, Mr. 
 Bingley, and a charming prospect over that gravel 
 walk. I do not know a place in the country that 
 is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 63 
 
 quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have 
 but a short lease.'' 
 
 Whatever I do is done in a hurry,'' replied 
 he; *^and therefore if I should resolve to quit 
 Netherfield, I should probably be off in five min- 
 utes. At present, however, I consider myself as 
 quite fixed here." 
 
 ^^That is exactly what I should have supposed 
 of you," said Elizabeth. 
 
 You begin to comprehend me, do you? " cried 
 he, turning towards her. 
 
 " Oh, yes; I understand you perfectly." 
 I wish I might take this for a compliment; but 
 to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful." 
 
 *^That is as it happens. It does not necessarily 
 follow that a deep, intricate character is more or 
 less estimable than such a one as yours." 
 
 ''Lizz}^," cried her mother, remember where 
 you are, and do not run on in the wild manner 
 that you are suffered to do at home." 
 
 "I did not know before," continued Bingley, 
 immediately, ^^that you were a studier of char- 
 acter. It must be an amusing study." 
 
 *'Yes; but intricate characters are the most 
 amusing. They have at least that advantage." 
 
 ^'The country," said Darcy, '^can in general 
 supply but few subjects for such a study. In a 
 country neighborhood you move in a very confined 
 and unvarying society." 
 
64 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 '^But people themselves alter so mucli that 
 there is something new to be observed in them 
 forever/' 
 
 **Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by 
 his manner of mentioning a country neighborhood. 
 
 assure you there is quite as much of that going 
 on in the country as in town.'' 
 
 Everybody was surprised; and Darcy, after 
 looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. 
 Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a com- 
 plete victory over him, continued her triumph. 
 
 ^'1 cannot see that London has any great ad- 
 vantage over the country, for my part, except the 
 shops and public places. The country is a vast 
 deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley? " 
 
 '^When I am in the country," he replied, ^^I 
 never wish to leave it; and when I am in town, 
 it is pretty much the same. They have each 
 their advantages, and I can be equally happy in 
 either." 
 
 ^^Ay, that is because you have the right dis- 
 position. But that gentleman," looking at Darcy, 
 ^' seemed to think the country was nothing at all." 
 
 ''Indeed, mamma, you are mistaken," said 
 Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. ''You quite 
 mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there 
 was not such a variety of people to be met with in 
 the country as in town, which you must acknowl- 
 edge to be true." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 65 
 
 ''Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; 
 but as to not meeting with many people in this 
 neighborhood, I believe there are few neighbor- 
 hoods larger. I know we dine with four-and- 
 twenty families.'' 
 
 Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable 
 Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was 
 less delicate, and directed her eye towards Mr. 
 Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, 
 for the sake of saying something that might turn 
 her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte 
 Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming 
 away. 
 
 '^Yes; she called yesterday with her father. 
 What an agreeable man Sir "William is, Mr. 
 Bingley, — is not he? so much the man of fashion, 
 so genteel, and so easy ! He has always something 
 to say to everybody. That is my idea of good 
 breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves 
 very important and never open their mouths, quite 
 mistake the matter.'' 
 
 *'Did Charlotte dine with you? " 
 
 '^Ko; she would go home. I fancy she was 
 wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. 
 Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their 
 own work; my daughters are brought up differ- 
 ently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, 
 and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I 
 assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! 
 
 VOL. I. — 5 
 
66 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Not that I think Charlotte so very plain; but then 
 she is our particular friend. 
 
 ^'She seems a very pleasant young woman,'' 
 said Bingley. 
 
 *^0h dear, yes; but you must own she is very 
 plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and 
 envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast 
 of my own child; but to be sure, Jane — one does 
 not often see anybody better looking. It is what 
 everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. 
 When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman 
 at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love 
 with her, that my sister-in-law was sure he would 
 make her an offer before we came away. But, 
 however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too 
 young. However, he wrote some verses on her, 
 and very pretty they were.'' 
 
 ^^And so ended his affection," said Elizabeth, 
 impatiently. There has been many a one, I 
 fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who 
 first discovered the efiicacy of poetry in driving 
 away love! " 
 
 have been used to consider poetry as the 
 food of love," said Darcy. 
 
 *^0f a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every- 
 thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it 
 be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am 
 convinced that one good sonnet will starve it 
 entirely away." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 67 
 
 Darcy only smiled ; and the general pause which 
 ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother 
 should be exposing herself again. She longed to 
 speak, but could think of nothing to say; and 
 after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating 
 her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to 
 Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with 
 Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his 
 answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil 
 also, and say what the occasion required. She 
 performed her part, indeed, without much gra- 
 ciousness; but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon 
 afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal 
 the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. 
 The two girls had been whispering to each other 
 during the whole visit; and the result of it was 
 that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with 
 having promised on his first coming into the 
 country to give a ball at Netherfield. 
 
 Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, 
 with a fine complexion and good-humored coun- 
 tenance ; a favorite with her mother, whose affec- 
 tion had brought her into public at an early age. 
 She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural 
 self-consequence, which the attentions of the offi- 
 cers, to whom her uncle's good dinners and her 
 own easy manners recommended her, had increased 
 into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to 
 address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, 
 
68 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 and abruptly reminded him of his promise; add- 
 ing that it would be the most shameful thing in 
 the world if he did not keep it. His answer to 
 this sudden attack was delightful to her mother's 
 ear. 
 
 ^^I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep 
 my engagement; and when your sister is recov- 
 ered, you shall, if you please, name the very day 
 of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing 
 while she is ill?'' 
 
 Lydia declared herself satisfied. Oh, yes, — it 
 would be much better to wait till Jane was well; 
 and by that time, most likely. Captain Carter 
 would be at Meryton again. And when you have 
 given your ball," she added, ^^I shall insist on 
 their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Torster 
 it will be quite a shame if he does not." 
 
 Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, 
 and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving 
 her own and her relations' behavior to the remarks 
 of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of 
 whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join 
 in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss 
 Bingley's witticisms on fine eyes. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 The day passed mucli as the day before had done. 
 Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some 
 hours of the morning with the invalid, who con- 
 tinued, though slowly, to mend; and in the 
 evening Elizabeth joined their party in the draw- 
 ing-room. The loo table, however, did not ap- 
 pear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, 
 seated near him, was watching the progress of his 
 letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by 
 messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bing- 
 ley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing 
 their game. 
 
 Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was 
 sufficiently amused in attending to what passed 
 between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual 
 commendations of the lady either on his hand- 
 writing, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the 
 length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern 
 with which her praises were received, formed a 
 curious dialogue, and was exactly in unison with 
 her opinion of each. 
 
 "How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive 
 8uch a letter! " 
 
70 PRroE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 He made no answer. 
 
 ^' You write uncommonly fast." 
 You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.'' 
 
 *^How many letters you must have occasion to 
 write in the course of a year ! Letters of business, 
 too! How odious I should think them! 
 
 ^'It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot 
 instead of to yours.'' 
 
 *^Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.'' 
 
 ^'I have already told her so once, by your 
 desire." 
 
 " I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me 
 mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well." 
 ^' Thank you, — but I always mend my own." 
 
 How can you contrive to write so even? " 
 He was silent. 
 
 *^Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her 
 improvement on the harp, and pray let her know 
 that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful 
 little design for a table, and I think it infinitely 
 superior to Miss Grantley's." 
 
 Will you give me leave to defer your raptures 
 till I write again? At present I have not room to 
 do them justice." 
 
 ^'Oh, it is of no consequence. I shall see her 
 in January. But do you always write such 
 charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?" 
 
 *^They are generally long; but whether always 
 charming, it is not for me to determine." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 71 
 
 *'It is a rule with me. that a person who can 
 write a long letter with ease cannot write ill.'' 
 
 ^^That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, 
 Caroline/' cried her brother, because he does not 
 write with ease. He studies too much for words 
 of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy? " 
 
 *^My style of writing is very different from 
 yours." 
 
 ''Oh," cried Miss Bingley, Charles writes in 
 the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out 
 half his words, and blots the rest." 
 
 My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time 
 to express them; by which means my letters some- 
 times convey no ideas at all to my correspondents." 
 
 Your humilit}^, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth, 
 must disarm reproof." 
 
 Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, 
 ^'than the appearance of humility. It is often 
 only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an 
 indirect boast." 
 
 '*And which of the two do you call my little 
 recent piece of modesty? " 
 
 *'The indirect boast; for you are really proud of 
 your defects in writing, because you consider them 
 as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and care- 
 lessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you 
 think at least highly interesting. The power of 
 doing anything with quickness is always much 
 prized by the possessor, and often without any 
 
72 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 attention to tlie imperfection of the performance. 
 When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning, that 
 if you ever resolved on quitting I^etherfield you 
 should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be 
 a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself; 
 and yet what is there so very laudable in a pre- 
 cipitance which must leave very necessary busi- 
 ness undone, and can be of no real advantage to 
 yourself or any one else?'' 
 
 ^'Nay, " cried Bingley, ^^this is too much to 
 remember at night all the foolish things that were 
 said in the morning. And yet, upon my honor, i 
 believed what I said of myself to be true, and I 
 believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, 
 I did not assume the character of needless precipi- 
 tance merely to show off before the ladies. 
 
 ^'I dare say you believed it; but I am by no 
 means convinced that you would be gone with 
 such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as 
 dependent on chance as that of any man I know; 
 and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend 
 were to say, * Bingley, you had better stay till 
 next week, ' you would probably do it, — you 
 would probably not go, — and, at another word, 
 might stay a month." 
 
 You have only proved by this,'' cried Eliza- 
 beth, ^'that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his 
 own disposition. You have shown him off now 
 much more than he did himself." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 73 
 
 ^'I am exceedingly gratified,'' said Bingley, 
 *^by your converting what my friend says into 
 a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. 
 But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which 
 that gentleman did by no means intend; for he 
 would certainly think the better of me if under 
 such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, 
 and ride off as fast as I could.'' 
 
 Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness 
 of your original intention as atoned for by your 
 obstinacy in adhering to it?" 
 
 Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the 
 matter, — Darcy must speak for himself." 
 
 You expect me to account for opinions which 
 you choose to call mine, but which I have never 
 acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to 
 stand according to your representation, you must 
 remember. Miss Bennet, that the friend who is 
 supposed to desire his return to the house, and the 
 delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it 
 without offering one argument in favor of its 
 propriety." 
 
 To yield readily — easily — to the persuasion 
 of a friend is no merit with you." 
 
 To yield without conviction is no compliment 
 to the understanding of either." 
 
 You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow noth- 
 ing for the influence of friendship and affection. 
 A regard for the requester would often make one 
 
74 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 readily yield to a request, without waiting for ar- 
 guments to reason one into it. I am not particu- 
 larly speaking of such a case as you have supposed 
 about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, per- 
 haps, till the circumstance occurs, before we dis- 
 cuss the discretion of his behavior thereupon. 
 But in general and ordinary cases, between friend 
 and friend, where one of them is desired by the 
 other to change a resolution of no very great 
 moment, should you think ill of that person for 
 complying with the desire, without waiting to 
 be argued into it?'' 
 
 Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on 
 this subject, to arrange with rather more precision 
 the degree of importance which is to appertain to 
 this request, as well as the degree of intimacy 
 subsisting between the parties?'' 
 
 By all means," cried Bingley; ^'\et us hear 
 all the particulars, not forgetting their compara- 
 tive height and size, for that will have more 
 weight in the argument. Miss Bennet, than you 
 may be aware of. I assure you that if Darcy were 
 not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with 
 myself, I should not pay him half so much defer- 
 ence. I declare I do not know a more awful 
 object than Darcy on particular occasions and in 
 particular places; at his own house especially, 
 and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing 
 to do." 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 75 
 
 Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she 
 could perceive that he was rather offended, and 
 therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly 
 resented the indignity he had received, in an ex- 
 postulation with her brother for talking such 
 nonsense. 
 
 ^^Isee your design, Bingley,'' said his friend. 
 *^You dislike an argument, and want to silence 
 this.'' 
 
 Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like 
 disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer 
 yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very 
 thankful; and then you may say whatever you 
 like of me." 
 
 **What you ask," said Elizabeth, ^Ms no sacri- 
 fice on m}' side ; and Mr. Darcy had much better 
 finish his letter." 
 
 Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his 
 letter. 
 
 When that business was over, he applied to Miss 
 Bingley and Elizabeth for the indulgence of some 
 music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to the 
 pianoforte, and after a polite request that Eliza- 
 beth would lead the way, which the other as 
 politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated 
 herself. 
 
 Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while 
 they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help 
 observing, as she turned over some music-books 
 
76 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. 
 Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew 
 how to suppose that she could be an object of ad- 
 miration to so great a man, and yet that he should 
 look at her because he disliked her was still more 
 strange. She could only imagine, however, at 
 last, that she drew his notice because there was a 
 something about her more wrong and reprehensi- 
 ble, according to his ideas of right, than in any 
 other person present. The supposition did not 
 pain her. She liked him too little to care for 
 his approbation. 
 
 After playing some Italian songs. Miss Bingley 
 varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon 
 afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, 
 said to her, — 
 
 ^^Do not you feel a great inclination. Miss Ben- 
 net, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a 
 reel? 
 
 She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated 
 the question, with some surprise at her silence. 
 
 *^0h,'' said she, ''I heard you before; but 1 
 could not immediately determine what to say in 
 reply. You wanted me, I know, to say *Yes,' 
 that you might have the pleasure of despising my 
 taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those 
 kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their 
 premeditated contempt. I have therefore made 
 up my mind to tell you that I do not want to 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 77 
 
 dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you 
 dare/' 
 
 ''Indeed I do not dare/' 
 
 Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, 
 was amazed at his gallantry; hut there was a mix- 
 ture of sweetness and archness in her manner 
 which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, 
 and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any 
 woman as he was by her. He really believed that, 
 were it not for the inferiority of her connections, 
 he should be in some danger. 
 
 Miss Bingley saw or suspected enough to be 
 jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of 
 her dear friend Jane received some assistance from 
 her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth. 
 
 She often tried to provoke Darcy in dis- 
 liking her guest, by talking of their supposed 
 marriage, and planning his happiness in such an 
 alliance. 
 
 ''I hope," said she, as they were walking to- 
 gether in the shrubbery the next day, ''you will 
 give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this 
 desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of 
 holding her tongue ; and if you can compass it, to 
 cure the younger girls of running after the officers. 
 And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, en- 
 deavor to check that little something, bordering 
 on conceit and impertinence, which your lady 
 possesses/' 
 
78 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ''Have you anything else to propose for my 
 domestic felicity?'' 
 
 '' Oh, yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle 
 and aunt Philips he placed in the gallery at Pem- 
 herley. Put them next to your great-uncle the 
 judge. They are in the same profession, you 
 know, only in different lines. As for your Eliza- 
 beth's picture, you must not attempt to have it 
 taken, for what painter could do justice to those 
 beautiful eyes? " 
 
 ''It would not he easy, indeed, to catch their 
 expression; hut their color and shape, and the 
 eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied." 
 
 At that moment they were met from another 
 walk by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself. 
 
 "I did not know that you intended to walk," 
 said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they 
 had been overheard. 
 
 "You used us abominably ill," answered Mrs. 
 Hurst, "running away without telling us that 
 you were coming out." 
 
 Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, 
 she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path 
 just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rude- 
 ness, and immediately said, — 
 
 "This walk is not wide enough for our party. 
 We had better go into the avenue." 
 
 But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination 
 to remain with them, laughingly answered, — 
 
PEroE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 79 
 
 '^No, no; stay where you are. You are charm- 
 ingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. 
 The picturesque would be spoiled by admitting a 
 fourth. Good-by.'' 
 
 She then ran gayly off, rejoicing, as she rambled 
 about, in the hope of being at home again in a day 
 or two. Jane was already so much recovered as 
 to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours 
 that evening. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth 
 ran up to her sister, and seeing her well guarded 
 from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, 
 where she was welcomed by her two friends with 
 many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had 
 never seen them so agreeable as they were during 
 the hour which passed before the gentlemen ap- 
 peared. Their powers of conversation were consid- 
 erable. They could describe an entertainment 
 with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humor, and 
 laugh at their acquaintance with spirit. 
 
 But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no 
 longer the first object; Miss Bingley's eyes were 
 instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had some- 
 thing to say to him before he had advanced many 
 steps. He addressed himself directly to Miss Ben- 
 net with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also 
 made her a slight bow, and said he was ^^very 
 glad; but diffuseness and warmth remained for 
 Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and at- 
 tention. The first half-hour was spent in piling 
 up the fire, lest she should suffer from the change 
 of room; and she removed, at his desire, to the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 81 
 
 other side of the fireplace, that she might be 
 farther from the door. He then sat down by her, 
 and talked scarcely to any one else. Elizabeth, 
 at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with 
 great delight. 
 
 When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his 
 sister-in-law of the card-table, — but in vain. She 
 had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Darcy 
 did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found 
 even his open petition rejected. She assured him 
 that no one intended to play, and the silence of 
 the whole party on the subject seemed to justify 
 her. Mr. Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but 
 to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to 
 sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did 
 the same; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied 
 in playing with her bracelets and rings, joined 
 now and then in her brother's conversation with 
 Miss Bennet. 
 
 Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much 
 engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through 
 his book, as in reading her own; and she was per- 
 petually either making some inquiry or looking 
 at his page. She could not win him, however, to 
 any conversation; he merely answered her ques- 
 tion and read on. At length, quite exhausted by 
 the attempt to be amused with her own book, 
 which she had only chosen because it was the 
 second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and 
 
 VOL. I. — 6 
 
82 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 said: '^How pleasant it is to spend an evening in 
 this way! I declare, after all, there is no enjoy- 
 ment like reading! How much sooner one tires of 
 anything than of a hook! When I have a house 
 of my own, I shall he miserable if I have not an 
 excellent library/' 
 
 No one made any reply. She then yawned again, 
 threw aside her hook, and cast her eyes round the 
 room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing 
 her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she 
 turned suddenly towards him and said, — 
 
 *^By the by, Charles, are you really serious in 
 meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would ad- 
 vise you, before you determine on it, to consult 
 the wishes of the present party; I am much 
 mistaken if there are not some among us to 
 whom a ball would be rather a punishment than 
 a pleasure.'' 
 
 '*If you mean Darcy, " cried her brother, ^^he 
 may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins ; but 
 as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing, and as 
 soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I 
 shall send round my cards." 
 
 ^^I should like balls infinitely better, " she re- 
 plied, ^^if they were carried on in a different man- 
 ner ; but there is something insufferably tedious in 
 the usual process of such a meeting. It would 
 surely be much more rational if conversation in- 
 stead of dancing made the order of the day.'' 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 83 
 
 Mucli more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare 
 say; but it would not be near so much like a 
 ball.'^ 
 
 Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon after- 
 wards got up and walked about the room. Her 
 figure was elegant, and she walked well; but 
 Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexi- 
 bly studious. In the desperation of her feelings 
 she resolved on one effort more; and turning to 
 Elizabeth, said, — 
 
 *'Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to 
 follow my example, and take a turn about the 
 room. I assure you it is very refreshing after 
 sitting so long in one attitude." 
 
 Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it imme- 
 diately. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the 
 real object of her civility : Mr. Darcy looked up. 
 He was as much awake to the novelty of attention 
 in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and 
 unconsciously closed his book.' He was directly 
 invited to join their party; but he declined it, ob- 
 serving that he could imagine but two motives for 
 their choosing to walk up and down the room to- 
 gether, with either of which motives his joining 
 them would interfere. What could he mean? 
 She was dying to know what could be his mean- 
 ing, and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all 
 understand him. 
 
 ''Not at all," was her answer; ''but, depend 
 
84 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our 
 surest way of disappointing him will be to ask 
 nothing about it.'' 
 
 Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disap- 
 pointing Mr. Darcy in anything, and persevered, 
 therefore, in requiring an explanation of his two 
 motives. 
 
 ^^I have not the smallest objection to explain- 
 ing them,'' said he, as soon as she allowed him to 
 speak. You either choose this method of pass- 
 ing the evening because you are in each other's 
 confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or 
 because you are conscious that your figures appear 
 to the greatest advantage in walking : if the first, 
 I should be completely in your way; and if the 
 second, I can admire you much better as I sit by 
 the fire." 
 
 *^0h, shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. ^^I 
 never heard anything so abominable. How shall 
 we punish him for such a speech?" 
 
 '^Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclina- 
 tion," said Elizabeth. ^^We can all plague and 
 punish one another. Tease him, laugh at him. 
 Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to 
 be done." 
 
 ^^But upon my honor I do no.t. I do assure you 
 that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. 
 Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! 
 No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 65 
 
 laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you 
 please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. 
 Mr. Darcy may hug himself.'' 
 
 *^Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!'' cried 
 Elizabeth. ^^That is an uncommon advantage, 
 and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would 
 be a great loss to me to have many such acquaint- 
 ance. I dearly love a laugh." 
 
 ^^Miss Bingley, " said he, has given me credit 
 for more than can be. The wisest and best of men 
 
 — nay, the wisest and best of their actions — may 
 be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first 
 object in life is a joke." 
 
 Certainly, " replied Elizabeth, " there are such 
 people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope 
 I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies 
 and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert 
 me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. 
 But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are 
 without." 
 
 Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But 
 it has been the study of my life to avoid those 
 weaknesses which often expose a strong under- 
 standing to ridicule." 
 
 ^^Such as vanity and pride." 
 
 Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride 
 
 — where there is a real superiority of mind — 
 pride will be always under good regulation." 
 
 Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. 
 
86 
 
 PRIDE AND PRi:jUDICE. 
 
 Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I pre- 
 sume/' said Miss Bingley; and pray what is the 
 result?'' 
 
 I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy 
 has no defect. He owns it himself without 
 disguise." 
 
 ^^No," said Darcy, ^'I have made no such pre- 
 tension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I 
 hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not 
 vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; 
 certainly too little for the convenience of the 
 world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of 
 others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against 
 myself. My feelings are not puffed about with 
 every attempt to move them. My temper would 
 perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion 
 once lost >s lost forever." 
 
 ^^That is a failing, indeed! " cried Elizabeth. 
 
 Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. 
 But you have chosen your fault well. I really 
 cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me." 
 
 There is, I believe, in every disposition a ten- 
 dency to some particular evil, a natural defect, 
 which not even the best education can overcome." 
 
 **And your defect is a propensity to hate 
 everybody." 
 
 ^^And yours," he replied, with a smile, *^is 
 wilfully to misunderstand them." 
 
 *^Do let us have a little music," cried Miss 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 87 
 
 Biugley, tired of a conversation in which she had 
 no share. Louisa, you will not mind my wak- 
 ing Mr. Hurst.'' 
 
 Her sister made not the smallest objection, and 
 the pianoforte was opened; and Darcy, after a few 
 moments' recollection, was not sorry for it. He 
 began to feel the danger of paj'ing Elizabeth too 
 much attention. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 In consequence of an agreement between the sis- 
 ters, Elizabetli wrote the next morning to her 
 mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for 
 them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, 
 who had calculated on her daughters remaining at 
 Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which 
 would exactly finish Jane's week, could not bring 
 herself to receive them with pleasure before. Her 
 answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least not 
 to Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get 
 home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they 
 could not possibly have the carriage before Tues- 
 day; and in her postscript it was added, that if 
 Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them to stay 
 longer, she could spare them very well. Against 
 staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively 
 resolved, — nor did she much expect it would be 
 asked; and fearful, on the contrary, of being con- 
 sidered as intruding themselves needlessly long, 
 she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley's carriage 
 immediately, and at length it was settled that 
 their original design of leaving ll^etherfield that 
 morning should be mentioned, and the request 
 made. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 89 
 
 The communication excited many professions of 
 concern; and enough was said of wishing them to 
 stay at least till the following day to work on 
 Jane; and till the morrow their going was de- 
 ferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had 
 proposed the delay; for her jealousy and dislike 
 of one sister much exceeded her affection for the 
 other. 
 
 The master of the house heard with real sorrow 
 that they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried 
 to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be 
 safe for her, — that she was not enough recovered; 
 but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be 
 right. 
 
 To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence. 
 Elizabeth had been at Netherfield long enough. 
 She attracted him more than he liked; and Miss 
 Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teasing than 
 usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be par- 
 ticularly careful that no sign of admiration should 
 now escape him, — nothing that could elevate her 
 with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible 
 that if such an idea had been suggested, his be- 
 havior during the last day must have material 
 weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to 
 his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her 
 through the whole of Saturday; and though they 
 were at one time left by themselves for half an 
 
90 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, 
 and would not even look at her. 
 
 On Sunday, after morning service, the separa- 
 tion, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Miss 
 Bingley's civility to Elizabeth increased at last 
 very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane ; and 
 when they parted, after assuring the latter of the 
 pleasure it would always give her to see her either 
 at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her 
 most tenderly, she even shook hands with the 
 former. Elizabeth took leave of the whole party 
 in the liveliest spirits. 
 
 They were not welcomed home very cordially by 
 their mother. Mrs. Bennet wondered at their 
 coming, and thought them very wrong to give so 
 much trouble, and was sure Jane would have 
 caught cold again. But their father, though very 
 laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really 
 glad to see them ; he had felt their importance in 
 the family circle. The evening conversation, 
 when they were all assembled, had lost much of 
 its animation, and almost all its sense, by the 
 absence of Jane and Elizabeth. 
 
 They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study 
 of thorough bass and human nature ; and had some 
 new extracts to admire, and some new observations 
 of threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine 
 and Lydia had information for them of a different 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 91 
 
 sort. Much had been done and much had been 
 said in the regiment since the preceding Wednes- 
 day; several of the officers had dined lately with 
 their uncle; a private had been flogged, and it 
 had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was 
 going to be married. 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 HOPE, my dear/' said Mr. Bennet to his wife, 
 as they were at breakfast the next morning, ^^that 
 you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I 
 have reason to expect an addition to our family 
 party.'' 
 
 ^^Who do you mean, my dear? I know of no- 
 body that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte 
 Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope my 
 dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe 
 she often sees such at home." 
 
 ^^The person of whom I speak is a gentleman 
 and a stranger." 
 
 Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. ^^A gentleman 
 and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure. 
 Why, Jane, you never dropped a word of this, — 
 you sly thing! Well, I am sure I shall be ex- 
 tremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But — good 
 Lord ! how unlucky ! there is not a bit of fish to 
 be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. 
 I must speak to Hill this moment." 
 
 *^It is not Mr. Bingley," said her husband; 
 ^^it is a person whom I never saw in the whole 
 course of my life." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 93 
 
 This roused a general astonishment; and he had 
 the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his 
 wife and five daughters at once. 
 
 After amusing himself some time with their 
 curiosity, he thus explained: About a month 
 ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight 
 ago I answered it ; for I thought it a case of some 
 delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is 
 from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am 
 dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon 
 as he pleases.'' 
 
 Oh, my dear,'' cried his wife, I cannot bear 
 tp hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that 
 odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in 
 the world, that your estate should be entailed 
 away from your own children; and I am sure, if I 
 had been you, I should have tried long ago to do 
 something or other about it." 
 
 Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her 
 the nature of an entail. They had often attempted 
 it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs. 
 Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she 
 continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of 
 settling an estate away from a family of five 
 daughters, in favor of a man whom nobody cared 
 anything about. 
 
 '^It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said 
 Mr. Bennet; ^^and nothing can clear Mr. Collins 
 from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if 
 
94 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be 
 a little softened by his manner of expressing 
 himself/' 
 
 ^^No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it 
 was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, 
 and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. 
 Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, 
 as his father did before him? 
 
 "Whjy indeed, he does seem to have had some 
 filial scruples on that head, as you will hear.'' 
 
 HuNSFORD, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October. 
 Dear Sir, — The disagreement subsisting between 
 yourself and my late honored father always gave me much 
 uneasiness ; and since I have had the misfortune to lose 
 him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach : but 
 for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fear- 
 ing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me 
 to be on good terms with any one with whom it had al- 
 ways pleased him to be at variance. [" There, Mrs. 
 Bennet ! "] My mind, however, is now made up on the 
 subject; for, having received ordination at Easter, I 
 have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the 
 patronage of the Eight Honorable Lady Catherine de 
 Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty 
 and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory 
 of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavor to 
 demean myself with grateful respect towards her Lady- 
 ship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and cere- 
 monies which are instituted by the Church of England. 
 As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote 
 and establish the blessing of peace in all families within 
 the reach of my influence ; and on these grounds I flatter 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 95 
 
 myself that my present overtures of good-will are highly 
 commendable, and that the circumstance of my being 
 next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly over- 
 looked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered 
 olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at 
 being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and 
 beg leave to apologize for it, as well as to assure you of 
 my readiness to make them every possible amends ; but 
 of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to re- 
 ceive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfac- 
 tion of waiting on you and your family, Monday, Novem- 
 ber 18th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on 
 your hospitality till the Saturday se'nnight following, 
 which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady 
 Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence 
 on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is 
 engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir, 
 with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, 
 your well-wisher and friend, 
 
 William Collins. 
 
 At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this 
 peace-making gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he 
 folded up the letter. ''He seems to be a most 
 conscientious and polite young man, upon my 
 word; and I doubt not will prove a valuable ac- 
 quaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be 
 so indulgent as to let him come to us again.'' 
 
 *' There is some sense in what he says about the 
 girls, however; and if he is disposed to make 
 them any amends, I shall not be the person to 
 discourage him." 
 
 *' Though it is difficult," said Jane, ^'to guess 
 
96 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 in what way he can mean to make us the atone- 
 ment he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to 
 his credit." 
 
 Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraor- 
 dinary deference for Lady Catherine, and his kind 
 intention of christening, marrying, and burying 
 his parishioners whenever it were required. 
 
 ^^He must be an oddity, I think," said she. 
 ^'1 cannot make him out. There is something 
 very pompous in his style. And what can he 
 mean by apologizing for being next in the entail? 
 We cannot suppose he would help it, if he could. 
 Can he be a sensible man, sir? " 
 
 '^No, my dear; I think not. I have great 
 hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is 
 a mixture of servility and self-importance in his 
 letter which promises well. I am impatient to 
 see him." 
 
 ''In point of composition," said Mary, ''his 
 letter does not seem defective. The idea of the 
 olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I 
 think it is well expressed." 
 
 To Catherine and Lydia neither the letter nor 
 its writer was in any degree interesting. It was 
 next to impossible that their cousin should come 
 in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since 
 they had received pleasure from the society of a 
 man in any other color. As for their mother, Mr. 
 Collins's letter had done away much of her ill-will, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 97 
 
 and she was preparing to see him with a degree 
 of composure which astonished her husband and 
 daughters. 
 
 Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was 
 received with great politeness by the whole family. 
 Mr. Bennet indeed said little ; but the ladies were 
 ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed 
 neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to 
 be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking 
 young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave 
 and stately, and his manners were very formal. 
 He had not been long seated before he compli- 
 mented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of 
 daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, 
 but that in this instance fame had fallen short of 
 the truth; and added that he did not doubt her 
 seeing them all in due time well disposed of in 
 marriage. This gallantry was not much to the 
 taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, 
 who quarrelled with no compliments, answered 
 most readily, — 
 
 You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish 
 with all my heart it may prove so; for else they 
 will be destitute enough. Things are settled so 
 oddly.'' 
 
 *^You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this 
 estate/' 
 
 ^^Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair 
 to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I 
 
 VOL. I. — 7 
 
98 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 mean to find fault with you, for such things I 
 know are all chance in this world. There is no 
 knowing how estates will go when once they come 
 to be entailed.'' 
 
 ^'1 am very sensible, madam, of the hardship 
 to my fair cousins, and could say much on the 
 subject, but that I am cautious of appearing for- 
 ward and precipitate. But I can assure the young 
 ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At 
 present I will not say more ; but j^erhaps, when we 
 are better acquainted — ' ' 
 
 He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; 
 and the girls smiled on each other. They were 
 not the only objects of Mr. Collinses admiration. 
 The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture 
 were examined and praised; and his commendation 
 of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet's 
 heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his 
 viewing it all as his own future property. The 
 dinner too, in its turn, was highly admired; and 
 he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the 
 excellence of its cookery was owing. But here he 
 was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him, 
 with some asperity, that they were very well able 
 to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had 
 nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon 
 for having displeased her. In a softened tone she 
 declared herself not at all offended; but he con- 
 tinued to apologize for about a quarter of an hour. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 During dinner Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; 
 but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought 
 it time to have some conversation with his guest, 
 and therefore started a subject in which he ex- 
 pected him to shine, by observing that he seemed 
 very fortunate in his patroness. Lady Catherine 
 de Bourgh's attention to his wishes and consider- 
 ation for his comfort appeared very remarkable. 
 Mr. Bennet could not have chosen better. Mr. 
 Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject 
 elevated him to more than usual solemnity of 
 manner; and with a most important aspect he pro- 
 tested that ^^he had never in his life witnessed 
 such behavior in a person of rank, — such affability 
 and condescension, as he had himself experienced 
 from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously 
 pleased to approve of both the discourses which he 
 had already had the honor of preaching before her. 
 She had also asked him twice to dine at Kosings, 
 and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to 
 make up her pool of quadrille in the evening. 
 Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many 
 people, he knew, but he had never seen anything 
 
100 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 but affability in her. She bad always spoken to 
 him as sbe would to any other gentleman; she 
 made not the smallest objection to his joining in 
 the society of the neighborhood, nor to his leaving 
 his parish occasionally for a week or two to visit 
 his relations. She had even condescended to 
 advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided 
 he chose with discretion; and had once paid him 
 a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had 
 perfectly approved all the alterations he had been 
 making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some 
 herself, — some shelves in the closets upstairs. 
 
 ^^That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,'' 
 said Mrs. Bennet, ^'and I dare say she is a very 
 agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in 
 general are not more like her. Does she live near 
 you, sir? '' 
 
 ^' The garden in which stands my humble abode 
 is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her 
 Ladyship's residence." 
 
 ^'I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has 
 she any family? " 
 
 ^^She has one only daughter, the heiress of 
 Bosings, and of very extensive property.'' 
 
 ^^Ah," cried Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, 
 ''then she is better off than many girls. And what 
 sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome? " 
 
 '' She is a most charming young lady, indeed. 
 Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 101 
 
 beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the 
 handsomest of her sex; because there is that in 
 her features which marks the young woman of 
 distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a 
 sickly constitution, which has prevented her mak- 
 ing that progress in many accomplishments which 
 she could not otherwise have failed of, as I am 
 informed by the lady who superintended her educa- 
 tion, and who still resides with them. But she is 
 perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive 
 by my humble abode in her little phaeton and 
 ponies.^' 
 
 ''Has she been presented? I do not remember 
 her name among the ladies at court.'' 
 
 ''Her indifferent state of health unhappily 
 prevents her being in town; and by that means, 
 as I told Lady Catherine myself one day, has de- 
 prived the British Court of its brightest orna- 
 ment. Her Ladyship seemed pleased with the 
 idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on 
 every occasion to offer those little delicate compli- 
 ments which are always acceptable to ladies. I 
 have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, 
 that her charming daughter seemed born to be a 
 duchess ; and that the most elevated rank, instead 
 of giving her consequence, would be adorned by 
 her. These are the kind of little things which 
 please her Ladyship, and it is a sort of attention 
 
102 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to 
 pay/^ 
 
 ^^You judge very properly/' said Mr. Bennet; 
 *^and it is happy for you that you possess the 
 talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask 
 whether these pleasing attentions proceed from 
 the impulse of the moment, or are the result of 
 previous study? 
 
 They arise chiefly from what is passing at the 
 time ; and though I sometimes amuse myself with 
 suggesting and arranging such little elegant com- 
 pliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, 
 I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as 
 possible. 
 
 Mr. Bennetts expectations were fully answered. 
 His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped; and he 
 listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, main- 
 taining at the same time the most resolute com- 
 posure of countenance, and, except in an occasional 
 glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in his 
 pleasure. 
 
 By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, 
 and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into 
 the drawing-room again, and when tea was over, 
 glad to invite him to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. 
 Collins readily assented, and a book was produced; 
 but on beholding it (for everything announced it 
 to be from a circulating library) he started back, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 103 
 
 and begging pardon, protested that he never read 
 novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia exclaimed. 
 Other books were produced, and after some delib- 
 eration he chose Fordyce's Sermons. Lydia gaped 
 as he opened the volume; and before he had with 
 very monotonous solemnity read three pages, she 
 interrupted him with, — 
 
 ^'Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Philips 
 talks of turning away E-ichard? and if he does, 
 Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me 
 so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton 
 to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when 
 Mr. Denny comes back from town.'' 
 
 Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold 
 her tongue; but Mr. Collins, much offended, laid 
 aside his book, and said, — 
 
 ^'I have often observed how little young ladies 
 are interested by books of a serious stamp, though 
 written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I 
 confess ; for certainly there can be nothing so ad- 
 vantageous to them as instruction. But I will no 
 longer importune my young cousin.'' 
 
 Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself 
 as his antagonist at backgammon. Mr. Bennet 
 accepted the challenge, observing that he acted 
 very wisely in leaving the girls to their own 
 trifling amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daugh- 
 ters apologized most civilly for Lj^dia's interrup* 
 
104 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 tion, and promised tliat it should not occur again, 
 if he would resume his book; hut Mr, Collins, 
 after assuring them that he bore his young cousin 
 no ill-will, and should never resent her behavior 
 as any affront, seated himself at another table with 
 Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the de- 
 ficiency of nature liad been but little assisted by 
 education or society, the greatest part of his life 
 having been spent under the guidance of an illiter- 
 ate and miserly father; and though he belonged 
 to one of the universities, he had merely kept the 
 necessary terms without forming at it any useful 
 acquaintance. The subjection in which his father 
 had brought him up had given him originally 
 great humility of manner; but it was now a good 
 deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak 
 head, living in retirement, and the consequential 
 feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A 
 fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady 
 Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford 
 was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her 
 high rank, and his veneration for her as his pa- 
 troness, mingling with a very good opinion of 
 himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his 
 right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture 
 of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and 
 humility. 
 
 Having now a good house and a very sufficient 
 income, he intended to marry; and in seeking a 
 
106 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had 
 a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the 
 daughters, if he found them as handsome and 
 amiable as they were represented by common re- 
 port. This was his plan of amends — of atone- 
 ment — for inheriting their father's estate; and 
 he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility 
 and suitableness, and excessively generous and dis- 
 interested on his own part. 
 
 His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss 
 Bennet's lovely face confirmed his views, and es- 
 tablished all his strictest notions of what was due 
 to seniority; and for the first evening she was his 
 settled choice. The next morning, however, made 
 an alteration; for in a quarter of an hour's tete-a-tete 
 with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation 
 beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading 
 naturally to the avowal of his hopes that a mis- 
 tress for it might be found at Longbourn, pro- 
 duced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and 
 general encouragement, a caution against the very 
 Jane he had fixed on. ^'As to her younger 
 daughters, she could not take upon her to say, — 
 she could not positively answer, — but she did not 
 know of any prepossession; her eldest daughter 
 she must just mention — she felt it incumbent 
 on her to hint — was likely to be very soon 
 engaged." 
 
 Mr. Collins had only to change from Jan3 to 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 107 
 
 Elizabeth ; and it was soon done, — done while 
 Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, 
 equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, sue 
 ceeded her of course. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted 
 that she might soon have two daughters married; 
 and the man whom she could not bear to speak of 
 the day before was now high in her good graces. 
 
 Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not 
 forgotten. Every sister except Mary agreed to go 
 with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, at 
 the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious 
 to get rid of him and have his library to himself; 
 for thither Mr. Collins had followed him after 
 breakfast, and there he would continue, nominally 
 engaged with one of the largest folios in the col- 
 lection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with 
 little cessation, of his house and garden at Huns- 
 ford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet ex- 
 ceedingly. In his library he had been always 
 sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though pre- 
 pared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly 
 and conceit in every other room in the house, he 
 was used to be free from them there : his civility, 
 therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins 
 to join his daughters in their walk; and Mr. Col- 
 lins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker 
 than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close 
 his large book and go. 
 
108 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 In pompous nothings on his side, and civil as- 
 sents on that of his cousins, their time passed till 
 they entered Meryton. The attention of the 
 younger ones was then no longer to be gained b3'- 
 him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up 
 in the street in quest of the officers ; and nothing 
 less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really 
 new muslin in a shop window could recall them. 
 
 But the attention of every lady was soon caught 
 by a young man, whom they had never seen before, 
 of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with 
 an officer on the other side of the way. The officer 
 was the very Mr. Denny concerning whose return 
 from London Lydia came to inquire ; and he bowed 
 as they passed. All were struck with the stranger's 
 air, all wondered who he could be ; and Kitty and 
 Lydia, determined if possible to find out, led the 
 way across the street, under pretence of wanting 
 something in an opposite shop, and fortunately 
 had just gained the pavement, when the two gen- 
 tlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. 
 Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated 
 permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, 
 who had returned with him the day before from 
 town, and, he was happy to say, had accepted a 
 commission in their corps. This was exactly as 
 it should be ; for the young man wanted only regi- 
 mentals to make him completely charming. His 
 appearance was greatly in his favor: he had all 
 
I'RIDE AND PREJUDICE. 109 
 
 the best parts of beauty, a fine countenance, a good 
 figure, and very pleasing address. The introduc- 
 tion was followed up on his side by a happy readi- 
 ness of conversation, — a readiness at the same 
 time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the 
 whole party were still standing and talking to- 
 gether very agreeably, when the sound of horses 
 drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were 
 seen riding down the street. On distinguishing 
 the ladies of the group the two gentlemen came 
 directly towards them, and began the usual civili- 
 ties. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and 
 Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, 
 he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to 
 inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with 
 a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix 
 his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly 
 arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Eliza- 
 beth, happening to see the countenance of both as 
 they looked at each other, was all astonishment at 
 the effect of the meeting. Both changed color; one 
 looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a 
 few moments, touched his hat, — a salutation which 
 Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What could be 
 the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; 
 it was impossible not to long to know. 
 
 In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without 
 seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave 
 and rode on with his friend. 
 
110 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the 
 young ladies to the door of Mr. Philips's house, 
 and then made their hows, in spite of Miss 
 Lydia's pressing entreaties that they would come 
 in, and even in spite of Mrs. Philips's throwing 
 up the parlor window, and loudly seconding the 
 invitation. 
 
 Mrs. Philips was always glad to see her nieces; 
 and the two eldest, from their recent absence, were 
 particularly welcome; and she was eagerly ex- 
 pressing her surprise at their sudden return home, 
 which, as their own carriage had not fetched them, 
 she should have known nothing about, if she had 
 not happened to see Mr. Jones's shop-boy in the 
 street, who had told her that they were not to send 
 any more draughts to Netherfield, because the Miss 
 Bennets were come away, when her civility was 
 claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane's introduc- 
 tion of him. She received him with her very best 
 politeness, which he returned with as much more, 
 apologizing for his intrusion without any previous 
 acquaintance with her, which he could not help 
 flattering himself, however, might be justified by 
 his relationship to the young ladies who intro- 
 duced him to her notice. Mrs. Philips was quite 
 awed by such an excess of good breeding; but her 
 contemplation of one stranger was soon put an end 
 to by exclamations and inquiries about the other, 
 of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had 
 brought him from London, and that he was to 
 
 have a lieutenant's commission in the shire. 
 
 She had been watching him the last hour, she said, 
 as he walked up and down the street, and had Mr. 
 Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would cer- 
 tainly have continued the occupation; but un- 
 luckily no one passed the windows now except 
 a few of the officers, who, in comparison with the 
 stranger, were become stupid, disagreeable fel- 
 lows.'' Some of them were to dine with the 
 Philipses the next day, and their aunt promised 
 to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and 
 give him an invitation also, if the family from 
 Longbourn would come in the eveniug. This was 
 agreed to; and Mrs. Philips protested that they 
 would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lot- 
 tery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper after- 
 wards. The prospect of such delights was very 
 cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. 
 Mr. Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the 
 room, and was assured, with unwearying civility, 
 that they were perfectly needless. 
 
 As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane 
 what she had seen pass between the two gentle- 
 men; but though Jane would have defended either 
 or both, had they appeared to be wrong, she could 
 no more explain such behavior than her sister. 
 
 M**- Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. 
 
112 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Eennet by admiring Mrs. Philips's manners and 
 politeness. He protested that, except Lady Cath- 
 erine and her daughter, he had never seen a more 
 elegant woman j for she had not only received him 
 with the utmost civility, but had even pointedly 
 included him in her invitation for the next even- 
 ing, although utterly unknown to her before. 
 Something, he supposed, might be attributed to 
 his connection with them, but yet he had never 
 met with so much attention in the whole course of 
 his life. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 As no objection was made to the young people's 
 engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins's 
 scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a 
 single evening during his visit were most steadily 
 resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five 
 cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the 
 girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered 
 the drawing-room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted 
 their uncle's invitation, and was then in the 
 house. 
 
 When this information was given, and they had 
 all taken their seats, Mr. Collins was at leisure to 
 look around him and admire ; and he was so much 
 struck with the size and furniture of the apart- 
 ment, that he declared he might almost have sup- 
 posed himself in the small summer breakfast-parlor 
 at Kosings, — a comparison that did not at first con- 
 vey much gratification: but when Mrs. Philips 
 understood from him what Kosings was, and who 
 was its proprietor; when she had listened to the 
 description of only one of Lady Catherine's draw- 
 ing-rooms, and found that the chimney-piece alone 
 had cost eight hundred pounds, — she felt all the 
 
 VOL. I. — 8 
 
114 PRIDE AND PHEJUDICE. 
 
 force of tlie compliment, and would hardly have 
 resented a comparison with the housekeeper's 
 room. 
 
 In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady 
 Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digres- 
 sions in praise of his own humble abode, and the 
 improvements it was receiving, he was happily 
 employed until the gentlemen joined them; and 
 he found in Mrs. Philips a very attentive listener, 
 whose opinion of his consequence increased with 
 what she heard, and who was resolving to retail it 
 all among her neighbors as soon as she could. To 
 the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, and 
 who had nothing to do but to wish for an instru- 
 ment, and examine their own indifferent imita- 
 tions of china on the mantelpiece, the interval of 
 waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, 
 however. The gentlemen did approach; and when 
 Mr. Wiclvham walked into the room, Elizabeth 
 felt that she had neither been seeing him before, 
 nor thinking of him since, with the smallest de- 
 gree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of 
 
 the shire were in general a very creditable, 
 
 gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of 
 the present party; but Mr. Wickham was as far 
 beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and 
 walk, as they were superior to the broad-faced 
 stuffy uncle Philips, breathing port wine, who 
 followed them into the room. 
 
PKIDE AND PREeTUDICE. 115 
 
 Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom 
 almost every female eye was turned, and Elizabeth 
 was the happy woman by whom he finally seated 
 himself; and the agreeable manner in which he 
 immediately fell in conversation, though it was 
 only on its being a wet night and on the probabil- 
 ity of a rainy season, made her feel that the com- 
 monest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be 
 rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. 
 
 With such rivals for the notice of the fair as 
 Mr. Wickham and the officers, Mr. Collins seemed 
 to sink into insignificance; to the young ladies he 
 certainly was nothing; but he had still at inter- 
 vals a kind listener in Mrs. Philips, and was by 
 her watchfulness most abundantly supplied with 
 coffee and muffin. 
 
 When the card-tables were placed, he had an 
 opportunity of obliging her, in return, by sitting 
 down to whist. 
 
 know little of the game at present,'' said 
 he, "but I shall be glad to improve myself; for in 
 my situation of life — '' Mrs. Philips was very 
 thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for 
 his reason. 
 
 Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with 
 ready delight was he received at the other table 
 between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there 
 seemed danger of Lydia's engrossing him entirely, 
 for she was a most determined talker; but being 
 
116 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, she soon 
 grew too much interested in the game, too eager 
 in making bets and exclaiming after prizes, to 
 have attention for any one in particular. Allow- 
 ing for the common demands of the game, Mr. 
 Wickham was therefore at leisure to talk to Eliza- 
 beth; and she was very willing to hear him, though 
 what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope 
 to be told, — the history of his acquaintance with 
 Mr. Dsivcy. She dared not even mention that 
 gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unex- 
 pectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the sub- 
 ject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield 
 was from Meryton; and after receiving her an- 
 swer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. 
 Darcy had been staying there. 
 
 About a month," said Elizabeth; and then, 
 unwilling to let the subject drop, added, '^He is 
 a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I 
 understand. 
 
 Yes," replied Wickham; ^^his estate there is 
 a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. 
 You could not have met with a person more capa- 
 ble of giving you certain information on that head 
 than myself, — for I have been connected with his 
 family, in a particular manner, from my infancy." 
 
 Elizabeth could not but look surprised. 
 
 ^^You may well be surprised. Miss Bennet, at 
 such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 117 
 
 might, the very cold manner of our meeting 
 yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. 
 Darcy?'' 
 
 ^*As much as I ever wish to be/' cried Eliza- 
 beth, warmly. ^^I have spent four days in the 
 same house with him, and I think him very 
 disagreeable.'' 
 
 ^^I have no right to give my opinion," said 
 Wickham, *'as to his being agreeable or otherwise. 
 I am not qualified to form one. I have known 
 him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It 
 is impossible for me to be impartial. But I be- 
 lieve your opinion of him would in general aston- 
 ish — and, perhaps, you would not express it quite 
 so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your 
 own family." 
 
 **Upon my word I say no more here than I 
 might say in any house in the neighborhood, 
 except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in 
 Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his 
 pride. You will not find him more favorably 
 spoken of by any one." 
 
 cannot pretend to be sorry," said Wickham, 
 after a short interruption, ^^that he or that any 
 man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; 
 but with him I believe it does not often happen. 
 The world is blinded by his fortune and conse- 
 quence, or frightened by his high and imposing 
 manners, and sees him only as he chooses to b© 
 seen." 
 
118 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 I should take him, even on my slight acquaint- 
 ance, to be an ill-tempered man.'' Wickham only 
 shook his head. 
 
 wonder,'' said he, at the next opportunity 
 of speaking, whether he is likely to be in this 
 country much longer." 
 
 ^^I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of 
 his going away when I was at Netherfield. I 
 
 hope your plans in favor of the shire will 
 
 not be affected by his being in the neighbor- 
 hood." 
 
 " Oh, no, — it is not for me to be driven away by 
 Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he 
 must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it 
 always gives me pain to meet him ; but I have no 
 reason for avoiding him but what I might pro- 
 claim to all the world, — a sense of very great ill 
 usage, and most painful regrets at his being what 
 he is. His father. Miss Bennet, the late Mr. 
 Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, 
 and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never 
 be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being 
 grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollec- 
 tions. His behavior to myself has been scanda- 
 lous; but I verily believe I could forgive him 
 anything and everything, rather than his disap- 
 pointing the hopes and disgracing the memory 
 of his father." 
 
 Elizabeth found the interest of the subject in- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 119 
 
 crease, and listened with all her heart; but the 
 delicacy of it prevented further inquiry. 
 
 Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general 
 topics, — Meryton, the neighborhood, the society, 
 — appearing highly pleased with all that he had 
 yet seen, and speaking of the latter, especially, 
 with gentle but very intelligible gallantry. 
 
 ^^It was the prospect of constant society, and 
 good society," he added, which was my chief 
 
 inducement to enter the shire. I know it 
 
 to be a most respectable, agreeable corps ; and my 
 friend Denny tempted me further by his account 
 of their present quarters, and the very great atten- 
 tions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had pro- 
 cured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. 
 I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits 
 will not bear solitude. I must have employment 
 and society. A military life is not what I was 
 intended for, but circumstances have now made it 
 eligible. The church ought to have been my pro- 
 fession, — I was brought up for the church ; and I 
 should at this time have been in possession of a 
 most valuable living, had it pleased the gentle- 
 man we were speaking of just now.'* 
 
 ^'Indeed!" 
 
 "Yes, — the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the 
 next presentation of the best living in his gift. 
 He was my godfather, and excessively attached to 
 me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He 
 
120 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 meant to provide for me amply, and thought lie 
 had done it; but when the living fell, it was given 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth; ^^but how 
 could that be? How could his will be disre- 
 garded? Why did not you seek legal redress? " 
 
 There was just such an informality in the 
 terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from 
 law. A man of honor could not have doubted the 
 intention; but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it, or to 
 treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, 
 and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it 
 by extravagance, imprudence, in short, anything 
 or nothing. Certain it is that the living became 
 vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age 
 to hold it, and that it was given to another man; 
 and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse my- 
 self of having really done anything to deserve to 
 lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I 
 may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of 
 him and to him too freely. I can recall nothing 
 worse. But the fact is, that we are very different 
 sort of men, and that he hates me.'' 
 
 '*This is quite shocking! He deserves to be 
 publicly disgraced." 
 
 * ^ Some time or other he will be ; but it shall 
 not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can 
 never defy or expose him." 
 
 Elizabeth honored him for such feelings, and 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 121 
 
 thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed 
 them. 
 
 ^'But what/' said she, after a pause, '^can 
 have been his motive? what can have induced him 
 to behave so cruelly? " 
 
 A thorough, determined dislike of me, — a dis- 
 like which I cannot but attribute in some measure 
 to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me 
 less, his son might have borne with me better; 
 but his father's uncommon attachment to me irri- 
 tated him, I believe, very early in life. He had 
 not a temper to bear the sort of competition in 
 which we stood, — the sort of preference which 
 was often given me." 
 
 had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this, — 
 though I have never liked him, I had not thought 
 so very ill of him, — I had supposed him to be 
 despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did 
 not suspect him of descending to such malicious 
 revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as 
 this!" 
 
 After a few minutes' reflection, however, she 
 continued: '^I do remember his boasting one day, 
 at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resent- 
 ments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His 
 disposition must be dreadful." 
 
 will not trust myself on the subject," re- 
 plied Wickham; ^^I can hardly be just to him." 
 
 Elizabeth was again deep in thoncrht, and after 
 
122 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 a time exclaimed: To treat in such a manner the 
 godson, the friend, the favorite of his father! 
 She could have added: ^^A young man, too, like 
 you, whose very countenance may vouch for your 
 being amiable/' But she contented herself with: 
 ^^And one, too, who had probably been his own 
 companion from childhood, connected together, as 
 I think you said, in the closest manner/' 
 
 We were born in the same parish, within the 
 same park; the greatest part of our youth was 
 passed together : inmates of the same house, shar- 
 ing the same amusements, objects of the same 
 parental care. My father began life in the pro- 
 fession which your uncle, Mr. Philips, appears to 
 do so much credit to; but he gave up everything to 
 be of use to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all 
 his time to the care of the Pemberley property. 
 He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a 
 most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy 
 often acknowledged himself to be under the 
 greatest obligations to my father's active super- 
 intendence; and when, immediately before my 
 father's death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary 
 promise of providing for me, I am convinced that 
 he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him 
 as of affection to myself." 
 
 ^'How strange!" cried Elizabeth. '^How 
 abominable ! I wonder that the very pride of this 
 Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 123 
 
 no better motive, that he should not have been 
 too proud to be dishonest, — for dishonesty I must 
 call it.'' 
 
 '^It is wonderful/' replied Wickham; ^^for al- 
 most all his actions may be traced to pride ; and 
 pride has often been his best friend. It has con- 
 nected him nearer with virtue than any other feel- 
 ing. But we are none of us consistent; and in his 
 behavior to me there were stronger impulses even 
 than pride." 
 
 ^^Can such abominable pride as his have ever 
 done him good? " 
 
 **Yes; it has often led him to be liberal and 
 generous; to give his money freely, to display 
 hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the 
 poor. Family pride and filial pride, for he is 
 Tery proud of what his father was, have done this. 
 Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate 
 from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of 
 the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He 
 has also brotherly pride, which, with some 
 brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and 
 careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear 
 him generally cried up as the most attentive and 
 best of brothers." 
 
 What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy? " 
 
 He shook his head. ^'I wish I could call her 
 amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a 
 Darcy; but she is too much like her brother, — 
 
124 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate 
 and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I 
 have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. 
 But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome 
 girl, ahout fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, 
 highly accomplished. Since her father's death 
 her home has been London, where a lady lives 
 with her, and superintends her education.'' 
 
 After many pauses and many trials of other 
 subjects, Elizabeth could not help reverting once 
 more to the first, and saying, — 
 
 ^^I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. 
 Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good- 
 humor itself, and is, I really believe, truly ami- 
 able, be in friendship with such a man? How can 
 they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley? " 
 
 '''Not at all." 
 
 ''He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming 
 man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is." 
 
 '^Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please 
 where he chooses. He does not want abilities. 
 He can be a conversable companion if he thinks it 
 worth his while. Among those who are at all his 
 equals in consequence, he is a very different man 
 from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride 
 never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal- 
 minded, just, sincere, rational, honorable, and, 
 perhaps, agreeable, — allowing something for for- 
 tune and figure." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 125 
 
 The whist-party soon afterwards breaking up, 
 the players gathered round the other table, and 
 Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin 
 Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. The usual inquiries 
 as to his success were made by the latter. It had 
 not been very great ; he had lost every point : but 
 when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern 
 thereupon, he assured her, with much earnest 
 gravity, that it was not of the least importance; 
 that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and 
 begged she would not make herself uneasy. 
 
 "1 know very well, madam,'' said he, ^'that 
 when persons sit down to a card-table they must 
 take their chance of these things, — and happily I 
 am not in such circumstances as to make five shil- 
 lings any object. There are, undoubtedly, many 
 who could not say the same; but, thanks to Lady 
 Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond 
 the necessity of regarding little matters.'' 
 
 Mr. Wickham's attention was caught; and after 
 observing Mr. Collins for a few moments, he asked 
 Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relations 
 were very intimately acquainted with the family 
 of De Bourgh. 
 
 ^'Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she replied, 
 *'has very lately given him a living. I .hardly 
 know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her 
 notice, but he certainly has not known her long." 
 
 **You know of course that Lady Catherine de 
 
126 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; con- 
 sequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. 
 Darcy." 
 
 ^^No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all 
 of Lady Catherine's connections. I never heard 
 of her existence till the day before yesterday.'' 
 
 *^Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a 
 very large fortune, and it is believed that she and 
 her cousin will unite the two estates." 
 
 This information made Elizabeth smile, as she 
 thought of poor Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must 
 be all her attentions, vain and useless her affection 
 for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were 
 already self-destined to another. 
 
 *^Mr. Collins," said she, speaks highly both 
 of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but, from 
 some particulars that he has related of her Lady- 
 ship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and 
 that, in spite of her being his patroness, she is an 
 arrogant, conceited woman." 
 
 believe her to be both in a great degree," 
 replied Wickham. have not seen her for many 
 
 years; but I very well remember that I never 
 liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial 
 and insolent. She has the reputation of being 
 remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather be- 
 lieve she derives part of her abilities from her 
 rank and fortune, part from her authoritative man- 
 ner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 127 
 
 who chooses that ev^ery one connected with him 
 should have an understanding of the first class.'' 
 
 Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very ra- 
 tional account of it, and they continued talking 
 together with mutual satisfaction till supper put 
 an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies 
 their share of Mr. Wickham's attentions. There 
 could be no conversation in the noise of Mrs. 
 Philips's supper-party, but his manners recom- 
 mended him to everybody. Whatever he said, 
 was said well ; and whatever he did, done grace- 
 fully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of 
 him. She could think of nothing but of Mr. 
 Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the 
 way home ; but there was not time for her even to 
 mention his name as they went, for neither Lydia 
 nor Mr. Collins was once silent. Lydia talked 
 incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had 
 lost and the fish she had won ; and Mr. Collins, in 
 describing the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Philips, 
 protesting that he did not in the least regard his 
 losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at sup- 
 per, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his 
 cousins, had more to say than he could well man- 
 age before the carriage stopped at Longbourn 
 House. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIl. 
 
 Elizabeth related to Jane, the next day, what 
 had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. 
 Jane listened with astonishment and concern: she 
 knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be 
 so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's regard; and yet it 
 was not in her nature to question the veracity of a 
 3'^oung man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. 
 The possibility of his having really endured such 
 unkindness was enough to interest all her tender 
 feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be 
 done but to think well of them both, to defend the 
 conduct of each, and throw into the account of 
 accident or mistake whatever could not be other- 
 wise explained. 
 
 ^^Tliey have both,'' said she, ^^been deceived, 
 I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can 
 form no idea. Interested people have perhaps 
 misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, 
 impossible for us to conjecture the causes or cir- 
 cumstances which may have alienated them, with- 
 out actual blame on either side.'' 
 
 '^Yery true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, 
 what have you got to say in behalf of the in- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 129 
 
 terested people who have probably been concerned 
 in the business? Do clear them, too, or we shall 
 be obliged to think ill of somebody. 
 
 Laugh as much as you choose, but you will 
 not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest 
 Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light 
 it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's 
 favorite in such a manner, — one whom his father 
 had promised to provide for. It is impossible. 
 No man of common humanity, no man who had 
 any value for his character, could be capable of it. 
 Can his most intimate friends be so excessively 
 deceived in him? Oh, no! '' 
 
 ^^I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's 
 being imposed on than that Mr. Wickham should 
 invent such a history of himself as he gave me 
 last night; names, facts, everything mentioned 
 without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy 
 contradict it. Besides, there was truth in hia 
 looks." 
 
 **It is difficult, indeed, — it is distressing. One 
 does not know what to think.'' 
 
 ^^I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what 
 to think." 
 
 But Jane could think with certainty on only 
 one point, — that Mr. Bingley, if he had been im^ 
 posed on, would have much to suffer when the 
 affair became public. 
 
 The two young ladies were summoned from the 
 
 VOL. I. — 9 
 
130 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the 
 arrival of some of the very persons of whom they 
 had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters 
 came to give their personal invitation for the long 
 expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for 
 the following Tuesday. The two ladies were de- 
 lighted to see their dear friend again, called it an 
 age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what 
 she had been doing with herself since their separa- 
 tion. To the rest of the family they paid little 
 attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as pos- 
 sible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing 
 at all to the others. They were soon gone again, 
 rising from their seats with an activity which took 
 their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if 
 eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's civilities. 
 
 The prospect of the Netherfield ball was ex- 
 tremely agreeable to every female of the family. 
 Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in com- 
 pliment to her eldest daughter, and was particu- 
 larly flattered by receiving the invitation from 
 Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a ceremonious 
 card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening 
 in the society of her two friends, and the atten- 
 tions of their brother; and Elizabeth thought with 
 pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. Wick- 
 ham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in 
 Mr. Darcy's look and behavior. The happiness 
 anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended less 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 131 
 
 on any single event or any particular person; for 
 though they each, like Elizabeth meant to dance 
 half the evening with Mr. Wickham, he was by 
 no means the only partner who could satisfy them, 
 and a hall was, at any rate, a hall. And even 
 Mary could assure her family that she had no 
 disinclination for it. 
 
 While I can have my mornings to myself," 
 said she, ''it is enough. I think it is no sacrifice 
 to join occasionally in evening engagements. So- 
 ciety has claims on us all; and I profess myself 
 one of those who consider intervals of recreation 
 and amusement as desirable for everybody. 
 
 Elizabeth's spirits were so high on the occasion, 
 that though she did not often speak unnecessarily 
 to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him 
 whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley's invi- 
 tation, and if he did, whether he would think it 
 proper to join in the evening's amusement; and 
 she was rather surprised to find that he entertained 
 no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far 
 from dreading a rebuke, either from the Arch- 
 bishop or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing 
 to dance. 
 
 "I am by no means of opinion, I assure you," 
 said he, ''that a ball of this kind, given by a 
 young man of character to respectable people, can 
 have any evil tendency; and I am so far from ob- 
 jecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be 
 
132 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 honored with the hands of all my fair cousins in 
 the course of the evening; and I take this oppor- 
 tunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the 
 two first dances especially, — a preference which I 
 trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right 
 cause, and not to any disrespect for her.'' 
 
 Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She 
 had fully proposed being engaged by Wickham for 
 those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins in- 
 stead! — her liveliness had been never worse 
 timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr. 
 Wickham's happiness and her own were perforce 
 delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collinses proposal 
 accepted with as good a grace as she could. She 
 was not the better pleased with his gallantry, from 
 the idea it suggested of something more. It now 
 first struck her that she was selected from among 
 her sisters as worthy of being the mistress of 
 Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a 
 quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more 
 eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to con- 
 viction, as she observed his increasing civilities 
 towards herself, and heard his frequent attempt at 
 a compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though 
 more astonished than gratified herself by this ef- 
 fect of her charms, it was not long before her 
 mother gave her to understand that the probability 
 of their marriage was exceedingly agreeable to her. 
 Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 133 
 
 hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must 
 be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins 
 might never make the offer, and, till he did, it 
 was useless to quarrel about him. 
 
 If there had not been a Netherfield ball to pre- 
 pare for and talk of, the younger Miss Bennets 
 would have been in a pitiable state at this time; 
 for from the day of the invitation to the day of the 
 ball there was such a succession of rain as pre^ 
 vented their walking to Meryton once. 'No aunt, 
 no officers, no news could be sought after; the very 
 shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. 
 Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of 
 her patience in weather which totally suspended 
 the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. 
 Wickham ; and nothing less than a dance on Tues- 
 day could have made such a Friday, Saturday, 
 Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty and 
 Lydia. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Keth- 
 erfield, and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham 
 among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a 
 doubt of his being present had never occurred to 
 her. The certainty of meeting him had not been 
 checked by any of those recollections that might 
 not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had 
 dressed with more than usual care, and prepared 
 in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that 
 remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it 
 was not more than might be won in the course of 
 the evening. But in an instant arose the dreadful 
 suspicion of his being purposely omitted, for Mr. 
 Darcy's pleasure, in the Bingleys' invitation to 
 the officers; and though this was not exactly the 
 case, the absolute fact of his absence was pro- 
 nounced by his friend Mr. Denny, to whom Lydia 
 eagerly applied, and who told them that Wickham 
 had been obliged to go to town on business the day 
 before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a 
 significant smile, — 
 
 ^'1 do not imagine his business would have 
 called him away just now, if he had not wished 
 to avoid a certain gentleman here.'' 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 135 
 
 This part of his intelligence, though unheard 
 by Lydia, was caught by Elizabeth; and as it as- 
 sured her that Darcy was not less answerable for 
 Wickham's absence than if her first surmise had 
 been just, every feeling of displeasure against the 
 former was so sharpened by immediate disappoint- 
 ment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable 
 civility to the polite inquiries which he directly 
 afterwards approached to make. Attention, for- 
 bearance, patience with Darcy, were injury to 
 Wickham, She was resolved against any sort of 
 conversation with him, and turned away with a 
 degree of ill-humor which she could not wholly 
 surmount even in speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose 
 blind partiality provoked her. 
 
 But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humor; 
 and though every prospect of her own was de- 
 stroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long 
 on her spirits; and having told all her griefs to 
 Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen for a 
 week, she was soon able to make a voluntary 
 transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to 
 point him out to her particular notice. The two 
 first dances, however, brought a return of distress : 
 they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, 
 awkward and solemn, apologizing instead of at- 
 tending, and often moving wrong without being 
 aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery 
 which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances 
 
136 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 can give. The moment of her release from him 
 was ecstasy. 
 
 She danced next with an officer, and had the re- 
 freshment of talking of Wickham, and of hearing 
 that he was universally liked. When those dances 
 were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and 
 was in conversation with her, when she found her- 
 self suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy, who took 
 her so much by surprise in his application for her 
 hand, that, without knowing what she did, she ac- 
 cepted him. He walked away again immediately, 
 and she was left to fret over her own want of pres- 
 ence of mind. Charlotte tried to console her. 
 
 dare say you vdll find him very agreeable.'' 
 Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest 
 misfortune of all ! To find a man agreeable whom 
 one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such 
 an evil.'' 
 
 When the dancing recommenced, however, and 
 Darcy approached to claim her hand, Charlotte 
 could not help cautioning her, in a whisper, not to 
 be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham 
 to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a 
 man of ten times his consequence. Elizabeth 
 made no answer, and took her place in the set, 
 amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in 
 being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and 
 reading in her neighbors' looks their equal amaze- 
 ment in beholding it. They stood for some time 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 137 
 
 without speaking a word ; and she began to ima- 
 gine that their silence was to last through the two 
 dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; 
 till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater 
 punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, 
 she made some slight observation on the dance. 
 He replied, and was again silent. After a pause 
 of some minutes, she addressed him a second time, 
 with, — 
 
 ^^It is your turn to say something now, Mr. 
 Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought 
 to make some kind of remark on the size of the 
 room or the number of couples.'' 
 
 He smiled, and assured her that whatever she 
 wished him to say should be said. 
 
 Very well; that reply will do for the present. 
 Perhaps, by and by, I may observe that private 
 balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but 
 now we may be silent.'' 
 
 Do you talk by rule, then, while you are 
 dancing? " 
 
 ^* Sometimes. One must speak a little, you 
 know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for 
 half an hour together ; and yet, for the advantage 
 of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as 
 that they may have the trouble of saying as little 
 as possible." 
 
 Are you consulting your own feelings in the 
 present case, or do you imagine that you are grati- 
 fying mine? " 
 
138 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Both, " replied Elizabeth, archly; for I have 
 always seen a great similarity in the turn of our 
 minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn 
 disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect 
 to say something that will amaze the whole room, 
 and be handed down to posterity with all the 
 eclat of a proverb.'' 
 
 ^^This is no very striking resemblance of your 
 own character, I am sure,'' said he. ^^How near 
 it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You 
 think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly." 
 
 I must not decide on my own performance." 
 He made no answer, and they were again silent 
 till they had gone down the dance, when he asked 
 her if she and her sisters did not very often walk 
 to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative ; and 
 unable to resist the temptation, added, ^^When 
 you met us there the other day, we had just been 
 forming a new acquaintance." 
 
 The effect was immediate. A deeper shade 
 of hauteur overspread his features, but he said 
 not a word; and Elizabeth, though blaming her- 
 self for her own weakness, could not go on. At 
 length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner 
 said, — 
 
 '^Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy man- 
 ners as may insure his making friends; whether 
 he may be equally capable of retaining them, is 
 less certain." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 139 
 
 '*He has been so unlucky as to lose your friend- 
 ship/' replied Elizabeth with emphasis, *'and in 
 a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his 
 life/' 
 
 Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of 
 changing the subject. At that moment Sir Wil- 
 liam Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to 
 pass through the set to the other side of the room; 
 but on perceiving Mr. Darcy, he stopped, with a 
 bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on 
 his dancing and his partner. 
 
 •^I have been most highly gratified, indeed, my 
 dear sir; such very superior dancing is not often 
 seen. It is evident that you belong to the first 
 circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair 
 partner does not disgrace you; and that I must 
 hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially 
 when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss 
 Eliza " (glancing at her sister and Bingley), 
 *^ shall take place. What congratulations will then 
 flow in ! I appeal to Mr. Darcy ; — but let me 
 not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for 
 detaining you from the bewitching converse of that 
 young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding 
 me." 
 
 The latter part of this address was scarcely 
 heard by Darcy; but Sir William's allusion to his 
 friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes 
 were directed, with a very serious expression, 
 
140 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 towards Bingley and Jane, who were dancing to- 
 gether. Kecovering himself, however, shortly, he 
 turned to his partner, and said, — 
 
 Sir William's interruption has made me forget 
 what we were talking of." 
 
 do not think we were speaking at all. Sir 
 William could not have interrupted any two people 
 in the room who had less to say for themselves. 
 We have tried two or three subjects alread}^ with- 
 out success, and what we are to talk of next I can- 
 not imagine." 
 
 What think you of books? " said he, smiling. 
 
 *^ Books, oh, no! I am sure we never read the 
 same, or not with the same feelings." 
 
 ^^I am sorry you think so; but if that be the 
 case, there can at least be no want of subject. We 
 may compare our different opinions." 
 
 *^No, I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my 
 head is always full of something else." 
 
 ^^The present always occupies you in such 
 scenes, does it? " said he, with a look of doubt. 
 
 ^^Yes, always," she replied, without knowing 
 what she said ; for her thoughts had wandered far 
 from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by 
 her suddenly exclaiming: '^I remember hearing 
 you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever 
 forgave; that your resentment, once created, was 
 unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suj?* 
 pose, as to its being created? 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 141 
 
 '^I am/' said he, with a firm voice. 
 ' ' And never allow yourself to be blinded by 
 prejudice? 
 
 ^^I hope not.'' 
 
 ^^It is particularly incumbent on those who 
 never change their opinion, to be secure of judging 
 properly at first." 
 
 ^^May I ask to what these questions tend? " 
 Merely to the illustration of your character/' 
 said she, endeavoring to shake off her gravity, 
 am trying to make it out." 
 And what is your success? " 
 
 She shook her head. I do not get on at all. 1 
 hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me 
 exceedingly." 
 
 can readily believe," answered he, gravely, 
 ^^that reports may vary greatly with respect to 
 me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you 
 were not to sketch my character at the present 
 moment, as there is reason to fear that the per- 
 formance would reflect no credit on either." 
 
 ^^But if I do not take your likeness now, I 
 may never have another opportunity." 
 
 *'I would by no means suspend any pleasure 
 of yours," he coldly replied. She said no more, 
 and they went down the other dance and parted 
 in silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not 
 to an equal degree: for in Darcy's breast there 
 was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her, 
 
142 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 which soon procured her pardon, and directed all 
 his anger against another. 
 
 They had not long separated when Miss Bing- 
 ley came towards her, and, with an expression of 
 civil disdain, thus accosted her, — 
 
 So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite de- 
 lighted with George Wickham? Your sister has 
 been talking to me about him, and asking me a 
 thousand questions; and 1 find that the young 
 man forgot to tell you, among his other commu- 
 nications, that he was the son of old Wickham, 
 the late Mr. Darcy's steward. Let me recom- 
 mend you, however, as a friend, not to give im- 
 plicit confidence to all his assertions; for, as to 
 Mr. Darcy's using him ill, it is perfectly false: 
 for, on the contrary, he has been always remark- 
 ably kind to him, though George Wickham has 
 treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I 
 do not know the particulars, but I know very 
 well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame; 
 that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham 
 mentioned; and that though my brother thought 
 he could not well avoid including him in his in- 
 vitation to the officers, he was excessively glad 
 to find that he had taken himself out of the way. 
 His coming into the country at all is a most in- 
 solent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could 
 presume to do it. I pity jou, Miss Eliza, for 
 this discovery of your favorite's guilt; but really, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 143 
 
 considering his descent, one could not expect 
 much better.'^ 
 
 ^'His guilt and his descent appear, by your 
 account, to be the same,'^ said Elizabeth, angrily; 
 '^for I have heard you accuse him of nothing 
 worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's stew- 
 ard, and of that, I can assure you, he informed 
 me himself. 
 
 ^'I beg your pardon, replied Miss Bingley, 
 turning away with a sneer. ^'Excuse my inter- 
 ference; it was kindly meant.'' 
 
 Insolent girl!" said Elizabeth to herself. 
 *^You are much mistaken if you expect to in- 
 fluence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see 
 nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and 
 the malice of Mr. Darcy.'' She then sought her 
 eldest sister, who had undertaken to make in- 
 quiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane 
 met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, 
 a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently 
 marked how well she was satisfied with the occur- 
 rences of the evening. Elizabeth instantly read 
 her feelings; and at that moment solicitude for 
 Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and 
 everything else gave way before the hope of 
 Jane's being in the fairest way for happiness. 
 
 want to know," said she, with a counte- 
 nance no less smiling than her sister's, ^^what 
 you have learned about Mr. Wickham. But per- 
 
144 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 haps you have been too pleasantly engaged to 
 think of any third person, in which case you 
 may be sure of my pardon. 
 
 **No/' replied Jane, "1 have not forgotten 
 him; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. 
 Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his his- 
 tory, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances 
 which have principally offended Mr. Darcy; but 
 he will vouch for the good conduct, the probity 
 and honor, of his friend, and is perfectly con- 
 vinced that Mr. Wickham has deserved much less 
 attention from Mr. Darcy than he has received; 
 and I am sorry to say that by his account, as well 
 as his sister's, Mr. Wickham is by no means a 
 respectable young man. I am afraid he has been 
 very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. 
 Darcy's regard.'* 
 
 ^^Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham 
 himself. '* 
 
 ^'No; he never saw him till the other morning 
 at Meryton.'* 
 
 This account then is what he has received 
 from Mr. Darcy. I am perfectly satisfied. But 
 what does he say of the living?" 
 
 ^^He does not exactly recollect the circum- 
 stances, though he has heard them from Mr. Darcy 
 more than once, but he believes that it was left to 
 him conditionally only.'' 
 
 I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley's sincerity," 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 145 
 
 said Elizabeth, warmly, *'but you must excuse my 
 not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. 
 Bingley's defence of his friend was a very able 
 one, I dare say ; but since he is unacquainted with 
 several parts of the story, and has learned the rest 
 from that friend himself, I shall venture still to 
 think of both gentlemen as I did before.'' 
 
 She then changed the discourse to one more 
 gratifying to each, and on which there could be no 
 difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with 
 delight to the happy though modest hopes which 
 Jane entertained of Bingley's regard, and said all 
 in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On 
 their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Eliza- 
 beth withdrew to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry 
 after the pleasantness of her last partner she had 
 scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to 
 them, and told her, with great exultation, that he 
 had just been so fortunate as to make a most 
 important discovery. 
 
 ^'1 have found out,'' said he, '^by a singular 
 accident, that there is now in the room a near 
 relation to my patroness. I happened to overhear 
 the gentleman himself mentioning to the young 
 lady who does the honors of this house the names 
 of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother 
 Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of 
 things occur! Who would have thought of my 
 meeting with — perhaps — a nephew of Lady Cath- 
 
 VOL. I. — 10 
 
146 PRIDE Ai^D PREJtfDICU. 
 
 erine de Bourgh in this assembly! I am most 
 thankful that the discovery is made in time for 
 me to pay my respects to him, which I am now 
 going to do, and trust he will excuse my not 
 having done it before. My total ignorance of the 
 connection must plead my apology. 
 
 You are not going to introduce yourself to 
 Mr. Darcy?" 
 
 Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for 
 not having done it earlier. I believe him to be 
 Lady Catherine's nephew. It will be in my power 
 to assure him that her Ladyship was quite well 
 yesterday se'nniglit.'' 
 
 Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such 
 a scheme; assuring him that Mr. Darcy would 
 consider his addressing him without introduc- 
 tion as an impertinent freedom, rather than a 
 compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the 
 least necessary there should be any notice on 
 either side, and that if it were, it must belong to 
 Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin 
 the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her 
 with the determined air of following his own 
 inclination, and when she ceased speaking, replied 
 thus, — 
 
 *^My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest 
 opinion in the world of your excellent judgment 
 in all matters within the scope of your understand- 
 ing, but permit me to say that there must be a 
 
rRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 147 
 
 wide difference between the established forms of 
 ceremony amongst the laity and those which regu- 
 late the clergy; for give me leave to observe that 
 I consider the clerical office as equal in point of 
 dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom, — 
 provided that a proper humility of behavior is at 
 the same time maintained. You must therefore 
 allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience 
 on this occasion, which leads me to perform what 
 I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for 
 neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every 
 other subject shall be my constant guide, though 
 in the case before us I consider myself more fitted 
 by education and habitual study to decide on what 
 is right than a young lady like yourself; " and 
 with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, 
 whose reception of his advances she eagerlj'' 
 watched, and whose astonishment at being so ad- 
 dressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced 
 his speech with a solemn bow, and though she 
 could not hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing 
 it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words 
 apology, Hunsford,'' and ^^Lady Catherine 
 de Bourgh.'' It vexed her to see him expose him- 
 self to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eying him 
 with unrestrained wonder; and when at last Mr. 
 Collins allowed him to speak, replied with an air 
 of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was 
 not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. 
 
148 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Darcy's contempt seemed abundantly increasing 
 with the length of his second speech; and at the 
 end of it he only made him a slight bow, and 
 moved another way. Mr. Collins then returned 
 to Elizabeth. 
 
 I have no reason, I assure you,'' said he, to 
 be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Darcy 
 seemed much pleased with the attention. He 
 answered me with the utmost civility, and even 
 paid me the compliment of saying that he was so 
 well convinced of Lady Catherine's discernment as 
 to be certain she could never bestow a favor un- 
 worthily. It was really a very handsome thought. 
 Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him." 
 
 As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her 
 own to pursue, she turned her attention almost 
 entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the 
 train of agreeable reflections which her observar 
 tions gave birth to made her perhaps almost as 
 happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in 
 that very house, in all the felicity which a mar- 
 riage of true affection could bestow; and she felt 
 capable, under such circumstances, of endeavoring 
 even to like Bingley's two sisters. Her mother's 
 thoughts she plainly saw were bent the same way, 
 and she determined not to venture near her, lest 
 she might hear too much. When they sat down 
 to supper, therefore, she considered it a most un- 
 lucky perverseness which placed them within one of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 149 
 
 each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that 
 her mother was talking to that one person (Lady 
 Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing else but of 
 her expectation that Jane would be soon married 
 to Mr. Bingley. It was an animating subject, 
 and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while 
 enumerating the advantages of the match. His 
 being such a charming young man, and so rich, 
 and living but three miles from them, were the 
 first points of self-gratulation ; and then it was such 
 a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of 
 Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the 
 connection as much as she could do. It was, 
 moreover, such a promising thing for her younger 
 daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must 
 throw them in the way of other rich men; and, 
 lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be 
 able to consign her single daughters to the care of 
 their sister, that she might not be obliged to go into 
 company more than she liked. It was necessary 
 to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, 
 because on such occasions it is the etiquette; but 
 no one was less likely than Mrs. Bennet to find 
 comfort in staying at home at any period of her 
 life. She concluded with many good wishes that 
 Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, 
 though evidently and triumphantly believing there 
 was no chance of it. 
 
 In vain did Elizabeth endeavor to check the 
 
150 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 rapidity of her mother's words, or persuade her to 
 describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for 
 to her inexpressible vexation she could perceive 
 that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, 
 who sat opposite to them. Her mother only 
 scolded her for being nonsensical. 
 
 ^^What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should 
 be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such 
 particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing 
 he may not like to hear." 
 
 ^^For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. 
 What advantage can it be to you to offend Mr. 
 Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to 
 his friend by so doing." 
 
 Nothing that she could say, however, had any 
 influence. Her mother would talk of her views in 
 the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed 
 and blushed again with shame and vexation. She 
 could not help frequently glancing her eye at Mr. 
 Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what 
 she dreaded; for though he was not always look- 
 ing at her mother, she was convinced that his 
 attention was invariably fixed by her. The ex- 
 pression of his face changed gradually from indig- 
 nant contempt to a composed and steady gravity. 
 
 At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more 
 to say; and Lady Lucas, who had been long 
 yawning at the repetition of delights which she 
 saw no likelihood of sharing, was left to the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 151 
 
 comforts of cold ham and chicken. Elizabeth now 
 began to revive. But not long was the interval of 
 tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing 
 was talked of, and she had the mortification of 
 seeing Mary, after very little entreaty, prejjaring 
 to oblige the company. By many significant looks 
 and silent entreaties did she endeavor to prevent 
 such a proof of complaisance, but in vain : Mary 
 would not understand them; such an opportunity 
 of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she be- 
 gan her song. Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on her 
 with most painful sensations, and she watched her 
 progress through the several stanzas with an im- 
 patience which was very ill rewarded at their 
 close ; for Mary, on receiving amongst the thanks 
 of the table the hint of a hope that she might be 
 prevailed on to favor them again, after the pause 
 of half a minute, began another. Mary's powers 
 were by no means fitted for such a display; her 
 voice was weak, and her manner affected. Eliza- 
 beth was in agonies. She looked at Jane to see 
 how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly 
 talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, 
 and saw them making signs of derision at each 
 other; and at Darcy, who continued, however, 
 impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to 
 entreat his interference, lest Mary should be sing- 
 ing all night. He took the hint, and when Mary 
 had finished her second song, said aloud, — 
 
152 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 *^That will do extremely well, child. You 
 have delighted us long enough. Let the other 
 young ladies have time to exhibit. 
 
 Mary, though pretending not to hear, was some- 
 what disconcerted; and Elizabeth, sorry for her 
 and sorry for her father's speech, was afraid her 
 anxiety had done no good. Others of the party 
 were now applied to. 
 
 ^^If I,'' said Mr. Collins, '^were so fortunate 
 as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, 
 I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; 
 for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, 
 and perfectly compatible with the profession of a 
 clergyman. I do not mean, however, to assert 
 that we can be justified in devoting too much of 
 our time to music, for there are certainly other 
 things to be attended to. The rector of a parish 
 has much to do. In the first place, he must make 
 such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial 
 to himself and not offensive to his patron. He 
 must write his own sermons; and the time that 
 remains will not be too much for his parish duties, 
 and the care and improvement of his dwelling, 
 which he cannot be excused from making as com- 
 fortable as possible. And I do not think it of 
 light importance that he should have attentive and 
 conciliatory manners towards everybody, especiall}'' 
 towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I 
 cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 153 
 
 well of the man who should omit an occasion of 
 testifying his respect towards anybody connected 
 with the family.'' And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, 
 he concluded his speech, which had been spoken 
 so loud as to be heard by half the room. Many 
 stared, many smiled; but no one looked more 
 amused than Mr. Bennet himself, while his wife 
 seriously commended Mr. Collins for having spoken 
 so sensibly, and observed, in a half-whisper to 
 Lady Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, 
 good kind of young man. 
 
 To Elizabeth it appeared that had her family 
 made an agreement to expose themselves as much 
 as they could during the evening, it would have 
 been impossible for them to play their parts with 
 more spirit or finer success; and happy did she 
 think it for Bingley and her sister that some of 
 the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his 
 feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed 
 by the folly which he must have witnessed. That 
 his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should 
 have such an opportunity of ridiculing her rela- 
 tions was bad enough; and she could not deter- 
 mine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman 
 or the insolent smiles of the ladies were more 
 intolerable. 
 
 The rest of the evening brought her little 
 amusement. She was teased by Mr. Collins, who 
 continued most perseveringly by her side; and 
 
154 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 though lie could not prevail with her to dance 
 with him again, put it out of her power to dance 
 with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand 
 up with somebody else, and offered to introduce 
 him to any young lady in the room. He assured 
 her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indiffer- 
 ent to it 5 that his chief object was, by delicate 
 attentions, to recommend himself to her; and that 
 he should therefore make a point of remaining 
 close to her the whole evening. There was no 
 arguing upon such a project. She owed her great- 
 est relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who often 
 joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. 
 Collinses conversation to herself. 
 
 She was at least free from the offence of Mr. 
 Darcy's further notice; though often standing 
 within a very short distance of her, quite disen- 
 gaged, he never came near enough to speak. She 
 felt it to be the probable consequence of her allu- 
 sions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in it. 
 
 The Longbourn party were the last of all the 
 company to depart; and by a manoeuvre of Mrs. 
 Bennet had to wait for their carriage a quarter of 
 an hour after everybody else was gone, which gave 
 them time to see how heartily they were wished 
 away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her 
 sister scarcely opened their mouths except to com- 
 plain of fatigue, and were evidently impatient to 
 have the house to themselves. They repulsed 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 155 
 
 every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, 
 and, by so doing, threw a languor over the whole 
 party, which was very little relieved by the long 
 speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting 
 Mr. Bingley and his sisters on the elegance of their 
 entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness 
 which had marked their behavior to their guests. 
 Darcy said nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal 
 silence, was enjoying the scene. Mr. Bingley and 
 Jane were standing together a little detached from 
 the rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth 
 preserved as steady a silence as either Mrs. Hurst 
 or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too much 
 fatigued to utter more than the occasional excla- 
 mation of ^^Lord, how tired I am! accompanied 
 by a violent yawn. 
 
 When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. 
 Bennet was most pressingly civil in her hope of 
 seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; and 
 addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to 
 assure him how happy he would make them by eat- 
 ing a family dinner with them at any time without 
 the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was 
 all grateful pleasure; and he readily engaged for 
 taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, 
 after his return from London, whither he was 
 obliged to go the next day for a short time. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted 
 the house under the delightful persuasion that. 
 
156 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 allowing for the necessary preparations of settle- 
 ments, new carriages, and wedding-clothes, she 
 should undoubtedly see her daughter settled at 
 Netherfield in the course of three or four months. 
 Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins 
 she thought with equal certainty, and with consid- 
 erable, though not equal pleasure. Elizabeth was 
 the least dear to her of all her children; and 
 though the man and the match were quite good 
 enough for her, the worth of each was eclipsed by 
 Mr. Bingley and Netherfield. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. 
 Mr. Collins made his declaration in form. Hav- 
 ing resolved to do it without loss of time, as his 
 leave of absence extended only to the following 
 Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to 
 make it distressing to himself even at the moment, 
 he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all 
 the observances which he supposed a regular part 
 of the business. On finding Mrs. Bennet, Eliza- 
 beth, and one of the younger girls together, soon 
 after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these 
 words, — 
 
 ^'May I hope, madam, for your interest with 
 your fair daughter Elizabeth, when I solicit for 
 the honor of a private audience with her in the 
 course of this morning? 
 
 Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a 
 blush of surprise, Mrs. Bennet instantly answered : 
 
 ^*0h dear! Yes, certainly. I am sure Lizzy 
 will be very happy, — I am sure she can have no 
 objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.'' 
 And gathering her work together, she was hasten- 
 ing away, when Elizabeth called out, — 
 
158 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Dear ma'am, do not go. I beg you will not 
 go. Mr. Collins must excuse me. He can have 
 nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. 
 I am going away myself.'' 
 
 *'No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you will 
 stay where you are." And upon Elizabeth's 
 seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, 
 about to escape, she added: Lizzy, I insist upon 
 your staying and hearing Mr. Collins." 
 
 Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction; 
 and a moment's consideration making her also sen- 
 sible that it would be wisest to get it over as soon 
 and as quietly as possible, she sat down again, and 
 tried to conceal by incessant employment the feel- 
 ings which were divided between distress and di- 
 version. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off; and 
 as soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began : — 
 
 Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that 
 your modesty, so far from doing you any dis- 
 service, rather adds to your other perfections. 
 You would have been less amiable in my eyes had 
 there not been this little unwillingness; but allow 
 me to assure you that I have your respected 
 mother's permission for this address. You can 
 hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however 
 your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; 
 my attentions have been too marked to be mis- 
 taken. Almost as soon as I entered the house I 
 singled you out as the companion of my future 
 
1>RI1)E AND PREJUDICl:. 
 
 159 
 
 life. But before I am run away with by my feel- 
 ings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable 
 for me to state my reasons for marrying — and, 
 moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the 
 design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did/' 
 
 The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn 
 composure, being run away with by his feelings, 
 made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could 
 not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt 
 to stop him further; and he continued, — 
 
 ^^My reasons for marrying are, first, that I 
 think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy 
 circumstances (like myself) to set the example of 
 matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am con- 
 vinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; 
 and thirdly, which perhaps I ought to have men- 
 tioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and 
 recommendation of the very noble lady whom I 
 have the honor of calling patroness. Twice has 
 she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked 
 too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Sat- 
 urday night before I left Hunsford — between our 
 pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was ar- 
 ranging Miss de Bourgh's footstool — that she 
 said, ^ Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman 
 like you must marry. Choose properly, — choose a 
 gentlewoman, for my sake and for your own; let 
 her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought 
 up high, but able to make a small income go a 
 
160 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 good way. This is my advice. Find such a 
 woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, 
 and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to 
 observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the 
 notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh 
 as among the least of the advantages in my power 
 to offer. You will find her manners beyond any- 
 thing I can describe; and your wit and vivacity 
 I think must be acceptable to her, especially 
 when tempered with the silence and respect which 
 her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for 
 my general intention in favor of matrimony; it re- 
 mains to be told why my views were directed to 
 Longbourn instead of my own neighborhood, where 
 I assure you there are many amiable young women. 
 But the fact is that, being, as I am, to inherit this 
 estate after the death of your honored father (who, 
 however, may live many years longer), I could not 
 satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife 
 from among his daughters, that the loss to them 
 might be as little as possible when the melancholy 
 event takes place, which, however, as I have already 
 said, may not be for several years. This has been 
 my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it 
 will not sink me in your esteem. And now noth- 
 ing remains for me but to assure you in the most 
 animated language of the violence of my affection. 
 To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall 
 make no demand of that nature on your father, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 16l 
 
 since I am well aware that it could not be com- 
 plied with; and that one thousand pounds in the 
 four per cents, which will not be yours till after 
 your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be 
 entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be 
 uniformly silent ; and you may assure yourself that 
 no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips 
 when we are married.'' 
 
 It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. 
 You are too hasty, sir," she cried. *^You 
 forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it 
 without further loss of time. Accept my thanks 
 for the compliment you are paying me. I am very 
 sensible of the honor of your proposals, but it is im- 
 possible for me to do otherwise than decline them." 
 
 ^^I am not now to learn," replied Mr. Collins, 
 with a formal wave of the hand, that it is usual 
 with young ladies to reject the addresses of the 
 man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he 
 first applies for their favor; and that sometimes 
 the refusal is repeated a second or even a third 
 time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged 
 by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead 
 you to the altar erelong." 
 
 Upon my word, sir," cried Elizabeth, ^^your 
 hope is rather an extraordinary one after my dec- 
 laration. I do assure you that I am not one of 
 those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) 
 who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the 
 
 VOL. I. — 11 
 
162 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 chance of being asked a second time. I am per- 
 fectly serious in my refusal. You could not make 
 me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last 
 woman in the world who would make you so. 
 N"ay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know 
 me, I am persuaded she would find me in every re- 
 spect ill qualified for the situation." 
 
 Were it certain that Lady Catherine would 
 think so,'' said Mr. Collins, very gravely, — ^^but 
 I cannot imagine that her Ladyship would at all 
 disapprove of you. And you may be certain that 
 when I have the honor of seeing her again I shall 
 speak in the highest terms of your modesty, 
 economy, and other amiable qualifications.'' 
 
 ^^Lideed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be 
 unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge 
 for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing 
 what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, 
 and by refusing your hand, do all in my power to 
 prevent your being otherwise. In making me the 
 offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your 
 feelings with regard to my family, and may take 
 possession of Longbourn estate whenever it falls, 
 without any self-reproach. This matter may be 
 considered, therefore, as finally settled." And 
 rising as she thus spoke, she would have quitted 
 the room, had not Mr. Collins thus addressed her : 
 
 '^When I do myself the honor of speaking to 
 you next on the subject, I shall hope to receive a 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 163 
 
 more favorable answer than you have now given 
 me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty 
 at present, because I know it to be the established 
 custom of your sex to reject a man on the first ap- 
 plication, and perhaps you have even now said as 
 much to encourage my suit as would be consistent 
 with the true delicacy of the female character.'' 
 
 ^^Keally, Mr. Collins,'' cried Elizabeth, with 
 some warmth, ^^you puzzle me exceedingly. If 
 what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the 
 form of encouragement, I know not how to express 
 my refusal in such a way as may convince you of 
 its being one." 
 
 You must give me leave to flatter myself, my 
 dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses are 
 merely words of course. My reasons for believing 
 it are briefly these: It does not appear to me 
 that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that 
 the establishment I can offer would be any other 
 than highly desirable. My situation in life, my 
 connections with the family of De Bourgh, and 
 my relationship to your own are circumstances 
 highly in my favor; and you should take it into 
 further consideration, that, in spite of your mani- 
 fold attractions, it is by no means certain that an- 
 other offer of marriage may ever be made you. 
 Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in 
 all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness 
 and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore 
 
164 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 conclude that you are not serious in your rejection 
 of me, I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of 
 increasing my love by suspense, according to the 
 usual practice of elegant females. 
 
 '^I do assure you, sir, that I have no preten- 
 sions whatever to that kind of elegance which con- 
 sists in tormenting a respectable man. I would 
 rather be paid the compliment of being believed 
 sincere. I thank you again and again for the 
 honor you have done me in your proposals, but to 
 accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings 
 in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? 
 Do not consider me now as an elegant female in- 
 tending to plague you, but as a rational creature 
 speaking the truth from her heart.'' 
 
 You are uniformly charming! '' cried he, with 
 an air of awkward gallantry ; ^ ^ and I am persuaded 
 that, when sanctioned by the express authority of 
 both your excellent parents, my proposals will not 
 fail of being acceptable." 
 
 To such perseverance in wilful self-deception 
 Elizabeth would make no reply, and immediately 
 and in silence withdrew; determined that if he 
 persisted in considering her repeated refusals as 
 flattering encouragement, to apply to her father, 
 whose negative might be uttered in such a manner 
 as must be decisive, and whose behavior at least 
 could not be mistaken for the affectation and 
 coquetry of an elegant female. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent con- 
 templation of his successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, 
 having dawdled about in the vestibule to watch 
 for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Eliza- 
 beth open the door and with quick step pass her 
 towards the staircase, than she entered the break- 
 fast-room, and congratulated both him and herself 
 in warm terms on the happy prospect of their 
 nearer connection. Mr. Collins received and re- 
 turned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and 
 then proceeded to relate the particulars of their in- 
 terview, with the result of which he trusted he 
 had every reason to be satisfied, since the refusal 
 which his cousin had steadfastly given him would 
 naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the 
 genuine delicacy of her character. 
 
 This information, however, startled Mrs. Ben- 
 net : she would have been glad to be equally satis- 
 fied that her daughter had meant to encourage him 
 by protesting against his proposals ; but she dared 
 not to believe it, and could not help saying so. 
 
 *^But depend upon it, Mr. Collins, she added, 
 '*that Lizzy shall be brought to reason. I will 
 
166 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 speak to her about it myself directly. She is a very 
 headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her 
 own interest J but I will make her know it/' 
 
 Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,'' 
 cried Mr. Collins j *^but if she is really headstrong 
 and foolish, I know not w^hether she would alto- 
 gether be a very desirable wife to a man in my sit- 
 uation, who naturally looks for happiness in the 
 marriage state. If therefore she actually persists 
 in rejecting my s-uit, perhaps it were better not to 
 force her into accepting me, because, if liable to 
 such defects of temper, she could not contribute 
 much to my felicity." 
 
 ^'Sir, you quite misunderstand me," said Mrs. 
 Bennet, alarmed. Lizzy is only headstrong in 
 such matters as these. In everything else she is 
 as good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go 
 directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon 
 settle it with her, I am sure." 
 
 She would not give him time to reply, but 
 hurrying instantly to her husband, called out, as 
 she entered the library, — 
 
 ^^Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; 
 we are all in an uproar. You must come and 
 make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she 
 will not have himj and if you do not make haste, 
 he will change his mind and not have her." 
 
 Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she 
 entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm 
 
PEIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 167 
 
 unconcern which was not in the least altered by 
 her communication. 
 
 have not the pleasure of understanding 
 you," said he, when she had finished her speech. 
 *^0f what are you talking?" 
 
 ^' Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares 
 she will not have Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins 
 begins to say that he will not have Lizzy." 
 
 *'And what am I to do on the occasion? It 
 seems a hopeless business." 
 
 Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her 
 that you insist upon her marrying him." 
 
 Let her be called down. She shall hear my 
 opinion." 
 
 Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth 
 was summoned to the library. 
 
 ^^Come here, child," cried her father, as she 
 appeared. ^' I have sent for you on an affair of 
 importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has 
 made you an offer of marriage. Is it true? " 
 Elizabeth replied that it was. ^^Very well, — 
 and this offer of marriage you have refused?" 
 I have, sir." 
 
 ^^Very well. We now come to the point. 
 Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is 
 it not so, Mrs. Bennet? " 
 
 Yes, or I will never see her again." 
 
 '^An unhappy alternative is before you, Eliza- 
 beth. Erom this day you must be a stranger to 
 
168 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 one of your parents. Your mother will never see 
 you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I 
 will never see you again if you do.'' 
 
 Elizabeth could not but smile at such a con- 
 clusion of such a beginning; but Mrs. Bennet, 
 who had persuaded herself that her husband re- 
 garded the affair as she wished, was excessively 
 disappointed. 
 
 What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in 
 this way? You promised me to insist upon her 
 marrying him.'' 
 
 ^^My dear," replied her husband, ^'I have two 
 small favors to request: First, that you will 
 allow me the free use of my understanding on 
 the present occasion; and, secondly, of my room. 
 I shall be glad to have the library to myself as 
 soon as may be." 
 
 Not yet, however, in spite of her disappoint- 
 ment in her husband, did Mrs. Bennet give up the 
 point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again; 
 coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeav- 
 ored to secure Jane in her interest; but Jane, 
 with all possible mildness, declined interfering; 
 and Elizabeth sometimes with real earnestness and 
 sometimes with playful gayety, replied to her at- 
 tacks. Though her manner varied, however, her 
 determination never did. 
 
 Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in soli- 
 tude on what had passed. He thought too well of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 169 
 
 himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin 
 could refuse him ; and though his pride was hurt, 
 he suffered in no other way. His regard for her 
 was quite imaginary; and the possibility of her 
 deserving her mother's reproach prevented his 
 feeling any regret. 
 
 While the family were in this confusion, Char- 
 lotte Lucas came to spend the day with them. 
 She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying 
 to her, cried in a half -whisper : ^^I am glad you 
 are come, for there is such fun here! What do 
 you think has happened this morning? Mr. Col- 
 lins has made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not 
 have him.'' 
 
 Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they 
 were joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same 
 news; and no sooner had they entered the break- 
 fast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she 
 likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss 
 Lucas for her compassion, and entreating her to 
 persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the 
 wishes of all her family. ^^Pray do, my dear 
 Miss Lucas," she added, in a melancholy tone; 
 ^^for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with 
 me. I am cruelly used; nobody feels for my poor 
 nerves." 
 
 Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance oi 
 Jane and Elizabeth. 
 
 '^Ay, there she comes," continued Mrs. Bennet, 
 
170 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 looking as unconcerned as may be, and caring 
 no more for us than if we were at York, provided 
 she can have her own way. But I tell you what. 
 Miss Lizzy, if you take it into your head to go on 
 refusing every offer of marriage in this way, you 
 will never get a husband at all, — and I am sure I 
 do not know who is to maintain you when your 
 father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you, — 
 and so I warn you. I have done with you from 
 this very day. I told you in the library, you 
 know, that I should never speak to you again, and 
 you will find me as good as my word. I have no 
 pleasure in talking to undutiful children. 'Not 
 that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking to 
 anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous 
 complaints can have no great inclination for talk- 
 ing. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is 
 always so. Those who do not complain are never 
 pitied.'' 
 
 Her daughters listened in silence to this effu- 
 sion, sensible that any attempt to reason with or 
 soothe her would only increase the irritation. She 
 talked on, therefore, without interruption from 
 any of them till they were joined by Mr. Collins, 
 who entered with an air more stately than usual, 
 and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls, — 
 Now I do insist upon it that you, all of you, 
 hold your tongues, and let Mr. Collins and me 
 have a little conversation together.'' 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 171 
 
 Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane 
 and Kitty followed, but Lydia stood her ground, 
 determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte, 
 detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose 
 inquiries after herself and all her family were very 
 minute, and then by a little curiosity, satisfied 
 herself with walking to the window and pretend- 
 ing not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet 
 thus began the projected conversation: — 
 
 '^Oh, Mr. Collins. 
 
 '^My dear madam,'' replied he, 'Met us be for- 
 ever silent on this point. Par be it from me,'' he 
 presently continued, in a voice that marked his 
 displeasure, '*to resent the behavior of your 
 daughter. Eesignation to inevitable evils is the 
 duty of us all, — the peculiar duty of a young man 
 who has been so fortunate as I have been, in early 
 preferment ; and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps 
 not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive 
 happiness had my fair cousin honored me with her 
 hand J for I have often observed that resignation 
 is never so perfect as when the blessing denied 
 begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estima- 
 tion. You will not, I hope, consider me as show- 
 ing any disrespect to your family, my dear madam, 
 by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your daugh- 
 ter's favor, without having paid yourself and Mr. 
 Bennet the compliment of requesting you to inteiv 
 pose your authority in my behalf. My conduct 
 
172 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted 
 my dismission from your daughter's lips instead of 
 your own; but we are all liable to error. I have 
 certainly meant well through the whole affair. 
 My object has been to secure an amiable com- 
 panion for myself, with due consideration for the 
 advantage of all your family; and if my manner 
 has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to 
 apologize.'' 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The discussion of Mr. Collinses offer was now 
 nearly at an end, and Elizabeth had only to suffer 
 from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily attend- 
 ing it, and occasionally from some peevish allusion 
 of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, his 
 feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrass- 
 ment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but 
 by stiffness of manner, and resentful silence. He 
 scarcely ever spoke to her; and the assiduous at- 
 tentions which he had been so sensible of himself 
 were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss 
 Lucas, whose civility in listening to him was a 
 seasonable relief to them all, and especially to 
 her friend. 
 
 The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. 
 Bennet's ill humor or ill health. Mr. Collins 
 was also in the same state of angry pride. Eliza- 
 beth had hoped that his resentment might shorten 
 his visit, but his plan did not appear in the least 
 affected by it. He was always to have gone on 
 Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay. 
 
 After breakfast the girls walked to Meryton, to 
 inquire if Mr. Wickham were returned, and to la* 
 
174 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ment over his absence from the Netherfield ball. 
 He joined them on their entering the town, and 
 attended them to their aunt's, where his regret 
 and vexation and the concern of ever^^body were 
 well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he vol- 
 untarily acknowledged that the necessity of his 
 absence had been self-imposed. 
 
 ^'I found," said he, ^^as the time drew near, 
 that I had better not meet Mr. Darcy; that to 
 be in the same room, the same party with him for 
 so many hours together, might be more than I 
 could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant 
 to more than myself." 
 
 She highly approved his forbearance; and they 
 had leisure for a full discussion of it, and for all 
 the commendations which they civilly bestowed on 
 each other, as Wickham and another officer walked 
 back with them to Longbourn ; and during the walk 
 he particularly attended to her. His accompany- 
 ing them was a double advantage : she felt all the 
 compliment it offered to herself; and it was most 
 acceptable as an occasion of introducing him to 
 her father and mother. 
 
 Soon after their return a letter was delivered to 
 Miss Bennet: it came from Netherfield, and was 
 opened immediately. The envelope contained a 
 sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well 
 covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand; and 
 Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance change as 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 175 
 
 she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some 
 particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, 
 and putting the letter away, tried to join with her 
 usual cheerfulness in the general conversation; 
 hut Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which 
 drew off her attention even from Wickham; and 
 no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, 
 than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her 
 upstairs. When they had gained their own room, 
 Jane, taking out her letter, said; ^^This is from 
 Caroline Bingley; what it contains has surprised 
 me a good deal. The whole party have left Neth- 
 erfield by this time, and are on their way to town, 
 and without any intention of coming back again. 
 You shall hear what she says.'' 
 
 She then read the first sentence aloud, which 
 comprised the information of their having just re- 
 solved to follow their brother to town directly, and 
 of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor 
 Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next 
 was in these words : — 
 
 " I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in 
 Hertfordshire except your society, my dearest friend ; 
 but we will hope at some future period to enjoy many re- 
 turns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and 
 in the mean while may lessen the pain of separation by a 
 very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I 
 depend on you for that." 
 
 To these high-flown expressions Elizabeth lis- 
 tened with all the insensibility of distrust; and 
 
176 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 though the suddenness of their removal surprised 
 her, she saw nothing in it really to lament : it was 
 not to be supposed that their absence from Nether 
 field would prevent Mr. Bingley's being there ; and 
 as to the loss of their society, she was persuaded 
 that Jane must soon cease to regard it in the en- 
 joyment of his. 
 
 ^^It is unlucky," said she, after a short pause, 
 ^Hhat you should not be able to see your friends 
 before they leave the country. But may we not 
 hope that the period of future happiness to which 
 Miss Bingley looks forward may arrive earlier 
 than she is aware, and that the delightful inter- 
 course you have known as friends will be renewed 
 with yet greater satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bing- 
 Jey will not be detained in London by them." 
 
 Caroline decidedly says that none of the party 
 will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will 
 read it to you." 
 
 "When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that 
 the business which took him to London might be con- 
 cluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it 
 cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when 
 Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it 
 again, we have determined on following him thither, that 
 he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a 
 comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are already 
 there for the winter : I wish I could hear that you, my 
 dearest friend, had any intention of making one in the 
 crowd ; but of that I despair. 1 sincerely hope your 
 Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gayetiea 
 
A .^7 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE 
 
 PART PIRST 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 177 
 
 which that season generally brings, and that your beaux 
 will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of 
 the three of whom we shall deprive you." 
 
 '^It is evident by this/' added Jane, '^that he 
 comes back no more this winter. 
 
 It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not 
 mean he should.'' 
 
 Why will you think so? It must be his own 
 doing; he is his own master. But you do not 
 know all. I will read you the passage which par- 
 ticularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from 
 you." 
 
 " Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister ; and to con- 
 fess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her 
 again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her 
 equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments ; and 
 the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is height- 
 ened into something still more interesting from the hope 
 we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I 
 do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my 
 feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country 
 without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem 
 them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly al- 
 ready ; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing 
 her on the most intimate footing ; her relations all wish 
 the connection as much as his own ; and a sister's par- 
 tiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles 
 most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all 
 these circumstances to favor an attachment, and nothing 
 to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging 
 the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of 
 , 80 many?" 
 
 VOL. I. — 12 
 
178 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^^What think you of this sentence, my dear 
 Lizzy?'' said Jane, as she finished it. ^^Is it 
 not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare 
 that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be 
 her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her 
 brother's indifference; and that if she suspects the 
 nature of my feelings for him, she means (most 
 kindly ! ) to put me on my guard. Can there be 
 any other opinion on the subject? " 
 
 ^^Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. 
 Will you hear it?" 
 
 ^'Most willingly." 
 You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley 
 sees that her brother is in love with you, and 
 w^ants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him 
 to town in the hope of keeping him there, and 
 tries to persuade you that he does not care about 
 you." 
 
 Jane shook her head. 
 
 Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No 
 one who has ever seen you together can doubt his 
 affection; Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot: she 
 is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen 
 half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she 
 would have ordered her wedding-clothes. But the 
 case is this: we are not rich enough or grand 
 enough for them; and she is the more anxious to 
 get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion 
 that when there has been one intermarriage, she 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 179 
 
 may have less trouble in achieving a second; in 
 which there is certainly some ingenuity, and T 
 dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were 
 out of the wa3^ But, my dearest Jane, you can- 
 not seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley 
 tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, 
 he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your 
 merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday ; 
 or that it will be in her power to persuade him 
 that instead of being in love with you, he is very 
 much in love with her friend." 
 
 *^If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,'^ replied 
 Jane, ^^your representation of all this might make 
 me quite easy. But I know the foundation is 
 unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiv- 
 ing any one; and all that I can hope in this case 
 is that she is deceived herself." 
 
 That is right. You could not have started a 
 more 'happy idea, since you will not take comfort 
 in mine : believe her to be deceived, by all means. 
 You have now done your duty by her, and must 
 fret no longer." 
 
 *^But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even 
 supposing the best, in accepting a man whose 
 sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry 
 elsewhere? " 
 
 You must decide for yourself," said Elizabeth; 
 *^and if upon mature deliberation you find that 
 the misery of disobliging his two sisters is more 
 
180 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 than equivalent to the happiness of heing his 
 wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him." 
 
 ^^How can you talk so?'' said Jane, faintly 
 smiling; ^^you must know that though I should 
 be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I 
 could not hesitate." 
 
 ^^Idid not think you would; and that being 
 the case, I cannot consider your situation with 
 much compassion." 
 
 ^'But if he returns no more this winter, my 
 choice will never be required. A thousand things 
 may arise in six months." 
 
 The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth 
 treated with the utmost contempt. It appeared to 
 her merely the suggestion of Caroline's interested 
 wishes; and she could not for a moment suppose 
 that those wishes, however openly or artfully 
 spoken, could influence a young man so totally 
 independent of every one. 
 
 She represented to her sister, as forcibly as pos- 
 sible, what she felt on the subject, and had soon 
 the pleasure of seeing its happy effect. Jane's 
 temper was not desponding ; and she was gradually 
 led to hope, though the diffidence of affection 
 sometimes overcame the hope, that Bingley would 
 return to Netherfield, and answer every wish of 
 her heart. 
 
 They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear 
 of the departure of the family, without being 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 181 
 
 alarmed on the score of the gentleman's conduct; 
 but even this partial communication gave her a 
 great deal of concern, and she bewailed it as ex- 
 ceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen 
 to go away just as they were all getting so inti- 
 mate together. After lamenting it, however, at 
 some length, she had the consolation of thinking 
 that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and 
 soon dining at Longbourn; and the conclusion of 
 all was the comfortable declaration that though 
 he had been invited only to a family dinner, she 
 would take care to have two full courses. 
 
CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 The Bennets were engaged to dine witli the 
 Lucases; and again, during the chief of the day, 
 was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins. 
 Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. 
 ^^It keeps him in good humor," said she, ^^and I 
 am more obliged to you than I can express." 
 Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in 
 being useful, and that it amply repaid her for the 
 little sacrifice of her time. This was very ami- 
 able; but Charlotte's kindness extended farther 
 than Elizabeth had any conception of: its object 
 was nothing less than to secure her from any 
 return of Mr. Collins's addresses, by engaging 
 them towards herself. Such was Miss Lucas's 
 scheme; and appearances were so favorable that 
 when they parted at night, she would have felt 
 almost sure of success if he had not been to leave 
 Hertfordshire so very soon. But here she did 
 injustice to the fire and independence of his char- 
 acter; for it led him to escape out of Longbourn 
 House the next morning with admirable slyness, 
 and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw himself at 
 her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of 
 
PRIDE AND PPvEJUDICE. 
 
 183 
 
 his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw 
 him depart, they could not fail to conjecture his 
 design, and he was not willing to have the attempt 
 known till its success could he known likewise; 
 for though feeling almost secure, and with reason, 
 for Charlotte had heen tolerably encouraging, he 
 was comparatively diffident since the adventure of 
 Wednesday. His reception, however, was of the 
 most flattering kind. Miss Lucas perceived him 
 from an upper window as he walked towards the 
 house, and instantly set out to meet him acci- 
 dentally in the lane. But little had she dared to 
 hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her 
 there. 
 
 In as short a time as Mr. Collins's long speeches 
 would allow, everything was settled between them 
 to the satisfaction of both; and as they entered 
 the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the 
 day that was to make him the happiest of men; 
 and though such a solicitation must be waived 
 for the present, the lady felt no inclination to 
 trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with 
 which he was favored by nature must guard his 
 courtship from any charm that could make a woman 
 wish for its continuance ; and Miss Lucas, who ac- 
 cepted him solely from the pure and disinterested 
 desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that 
 establishment were gained. 
 
 Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily ap- 
 
184 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 plied to for their consent; and it was bestowed 
 with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins's present 
 circumstances made it a most eligible match for 
 their daughter, to whom they could give little for- 
 tune; and his prospects of future wealth were 
 exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas began directly to 
 calculate, with more interest than the matter had 
 ever excited before, how many years longer Mr. 
 Bennet was likely to live ; and Sir William gave it 
 as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins 
 should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it 
 would be highly expedient that both he and his 
 wife should make their appearance at St. James's. 
 The whole family, in short, were properly overjoyed 
 on the occasion. The younger girls formed hopes 
 of coming out a year or two sooner than they might 
 otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved 
 from their apprehension of Charlotte's dying an 
 old maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably com- 
 posed. She had gained her point, and had time 
 to consider of it. Her reflections were in general 
 satisfactory. Mr. Collins, to be sure, ,was neither 
 sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome, 
 and his attachment to her must be imaginary. 
 But still he would be her husband. Without 
 thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, 
 marriage had always been her object: it was 
 the only honorable provision for well-educated 
 young women of small fortune, and, however 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 185 
 
 uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleas- 
 antest preservative from want. This preserva- 
 tive she had now obtained; and at the age of 
 twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, 
 she felt all the good luck of it. The least agree- 
 able circumstance in the business was the surprise 
 it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose 
 friendship she valued beyond that of any other 
 person. Elizabeth would wonder, and probably 
 would blame her; and though her resolution was 
 not to be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by 
 such a disapprobation. She resolved to give her 
 the information herself; and therefore charged Mr. 
 Collins, when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, 
 to drop no hint of what had passed before any of 
 the family. A promise of secrecy was of course 
 very dutifully given, but it could not be kept 
 without difficulty ; for the curiosity excited by his 
 long absence burst forth in such very direct ques- 
 tions on his return as required some ingenuity to 
 evade, and he was at the same time exercising 
 great self-denial, for he was longing to publish his 
 prosperous love. 
 
 As he was to begin his journey too early on the 
 morrow to see any of the family, the ceremony of 
 leave-taking was performed when the ladies moved 
 for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great polite- 
 ness and cordiality, said how happy they should 
 be to see him at Longbourn again, whenever 
 
186 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 his other engagements might allow him to visit 
 them. 
 
 ^^My dear madam," he replied, " this invitation 
 is particularly gratifying, because it is what I 
 have been hoping to receive; and you may be very 
 certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who 
 could by no means wish for so speedy a return, 
 immediately said, — 
 
 ^^But is there not danger of Lady Catherine's 
 disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better 
 neglect your relations than run the risk of offend- 
 ing your patroness." 
 
 ''My dear sir," replied Mr. Collins, ''I am 
 particularly obliged to you for this friendly cau- 
 tion, and you may depend upon my not tak- 
 ing so material a step without her Ladyship's 
 concurrence." 
 
 ''You cannot be too much on your guard. Bisk 
 anything rather than her displeasure; and if you 
 find it likely to be raised by your coming to us 
 again, which I should think exceedingly probable, 
 stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we 
 shall take no offence." 
 
 "Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is 
 warmly excited by such affectionate attention; 
 and, depend upon it, you will speedily receive 
 from me a letter of thanks for this as well as for 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 187 
 
 every other mark of your regard during my stay in 
 Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though 
 my absence may not be long enough to render it 
 necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing 
 them health and happiness, not excepting my 
 cousin Elizabeth." 
 
 With proper civilities, the ladies then withdrew ; 
 all of them equally surprised to find that he medi- 
 tated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished to un- 
 derstand by it that he thought of paying his ad- 
 dresses to one of her younger girls, and Mary 
 might have been prevailed on to accept him. She 
 rated his abilities much higher than any of the 
 others: there was a solidity in his reflections 
 which often struck her; and though by no means 
 so clever as herself, she thought that if encour- 
 aged to read and improve himself by such an ex- 
 ample as hers, he might become a very agreeable 
 companion. But on the following morning every 
 hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas 
 called soon after breakfast, and in a private con- 
 ference with Elizabeth related the event of the 
 day before. 
 
 The possibility of Mr. Collins's fancying himself 
 in love with her friend had once occurred to Eliza- 
 beth within the last day or two ; but that Charlotte 
 could encourage him seemed almost as far from 
 possibility as that she could encourage him herself; 
 and her astonishment was consequently so great as 
 
188 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and 
 she could not help crying out, — 
 
 Engaged to Mr. Collins! my dear Charlotte, 
 impossible ! " 
 
 The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had 
 commanded in telling her story gave way to a 
 momentary confusion here on receiving so direct 
 a reproach; though, as it was no more than she 
 expected, she soon regained her composure, and 
 calmly replied, — 
 
 *^Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? 
 Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should 
 be able to procure any woman's good opinion, be- 
 cause he was not so happy as to succeed with 
 you?" 
 
 But Elizabeth had now recollected herself; and 
 making a strong effort for it, was able to assure 
 her, with tolerable firmness, that the prospect of 
 their relationship was highly grateful to her, and 
 that she wished her all imaginable happiness. 
 
 '^I see what you are feeling," replied Charlotte: 
 *'you must be surprised, very much surprised, so 
 lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. 
 But when you have had time to think it all over, I 
 hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. 
 I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I 
 ask only a comfortable home ; and considering Mr. 
 Collins's character, connections, and situation in 
 life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 189 
 
 with him is as fair as most people can boast on 
 entering the marriage state." 
 
 Elizabeth quietly answered, ^^Undoubtedly;" 
 and after an awkward pause they returned to the 
 rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much 
 longer; and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on 
 what she had heard. It was a long time before 
 she became at all reconciled to the idea of so un- 
 suitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collinses 
 making two offers of marriage within three days 
 was nothing in comparison of his being now ac- 
 cepted. She had always felt that Charlotte's opin- 
 ion of matrimony was not exactly like her own; 
 but she could not have supposed it possible that 
 when called into action, she would have sacrificed 
 every better feeling to worldly advantage. Char- 
 lotte the wife of Mr. Collins was a most hu- 
 miliating picture! And to the pang of a friend 
 disgracing herself and sunk in her esteem, was 
 added the distressing conviction that it was im- 
 possible for that friend to be tolerably happy in 
 the lot she had chosen. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIIL 
 
 Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and 
 sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and 
 doubting whether she was authorized to mention 
 it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent 
 by his daughter to announce her engagement to 
 the family. With manj'- compliments to them, 
 and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a 
 connection between the houses, he unfolded the 
 matter, — to an audience not merely wondering, 
 but incredulous : for Mrs. Bennet, with more perse- 
 verance than politeness, protested he must be en- 
 tirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and 
 often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed, — 
 
 ^^Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell 
 such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins 
 wants to marry Lizzy?" 
 
 Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier 
 could have borne without anger such treatment: 
 but Sir William's good breeding carried him 
 through it all; and though he begged leave to be 
 positive as to the truth of his information, he 
 listened to all their impertinence with the most 
 forbearing courtesy. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 191 
 
 Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve 
 him from so unpleasant a situation, now put her- 
 self forward to confirm his account, by mentioning 
 her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; 
 and endeavored to put a stop to the exclamations 
 of her mother and sisters, by the earnestness of 
 her congratulations to Sir William, in which she 
 was readily joined by Jane, and by making a 
 variety of remarks on the happiness that might be 
 expected from the match, the excellent character 
 of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of 
 Hunsford from London. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered 
 to say a great deal while Sir William remained; 
 but no sooner had he left them than her feelings 
 found a rapid vent. In the first place, she per- 
 sisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; 
 secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had 
 been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they 
 would never be happy together; and, fourthly, 
 that the match might be broken off. Two infer- 
 ences, however, were plainly deduced from the 
 whole, — one, that Elizabeth was the real cause of 
 all the mischief; and the other, that she herself 
 had been barbarously used by them all, — and on 
 these two points she principally dwelt during the 
 rest of the day. Nothing could console and noth- 
 ing appease her. Nor did that day wear out her 
 resentment. A week elapsed before she could see 
 
192 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Elizabeth without scolding her; a month passed 
 away before she could speak to Sir William or 
 Lady Lucas without being rude; and many months 
 were gone before she could at all forgive their 
 daughter. 
 
 Mr. Bennet's emotions were much more tran- 
 quil on the occasion, and such as he did expe- 
 rience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable 
 sort; for it gratified him, he said, to discover that 
 Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to think 
 tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, 
 and more foolish than his daughter! 
 
 Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the 
 match: but she said less of her astonishment 
 than of her earnest desire for their happiness; 
 nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it 
 as improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from 
 envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a 
 clergyman; and it affected them in no other way 
 than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton. 
 
 Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph 
 on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the com- 
 fort of having a daughter well married; and she 
 called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to 
 say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet's 
 sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have 
 been enough to drive happiness away. 
 
 Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a 
 restraint which kept them mutually silent on the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 193 
 
 subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real 
 confidence could ever subsist between them again. 
 Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn 
 with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude 
 and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never 
 be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew 
 daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone 
 a week, and nothing was heard of his return. 
 
 Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her 
 letter, and was counting the days till she might 
 reasonably hope to hear again. The promised 
 letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on 
 Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written 
 with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelve- 
 month's abode in the family might have prompted. 
 After discharging his conscience on that head, he 
 proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous 
 expressions, of his happiness in having obtained 
 the affection of their amiable neighbor. Miss 
 Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with 
 the view of enjoying her society that he had been 
 so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him 
 again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able 
 to return on Monday fortnight ; for Lady Catherine, 
 he added, so heartily approved his marriage that 
 she wished it to take place as soon as possible, 
 which he trusted would be an unanswerable argu- 
 ment with his amiable Charlotte to name an early 
 day for making him the happiest of men . 
 
 VOL. I. — 13 
 
194 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Mr. Collinses return into Hertfordshire was no 
 longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On 
 the contrary, she was as much disposed to com- 
 plain of it as her husband. It was very strange 
 that he should come to Longbourn instead of to 
 Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and 
 exceedingly troublesome. She hated having vis- 
 itors in the house while her health was so indiffer- 
 ent, and lovers were of all people the most disa- 
 greeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. 
 Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater 
 distress of Mr. Bingley's continued absence. 
 
 Neither Jane nor Elizabeth was comfortable 
 on this subject. Day after day passed away with- 
 out bringing any other tidings of him than the 
 report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his 
 coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter, — 
 a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and 
 which she never failed to contradict as a most 
 scandalous falsehood. 
 
 Even Elizabeth began to fear, not that Bing- 
 ley was indifferent, but that his sisters would be 
 successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as 
 she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's 
 happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of 
 her lover, she could not prevent its frequently 
 recurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling 
 sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted by 
 khe attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 195 
 
 of London, might be too much, she feared, for the 
 strength of his attachment. 
 
 As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense 
 was, of course, more painful than Elizabeth's; 
 but whatever she felt she was desirous of conceal- 
 ing, and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, 
 the subject was never alluded to. But as no such 
 delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom 
 passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, ex- 
 press her impatience for his arrival, or even re- 
 quire Jane to confess that if he did not come back 
 she should think herself very ill used. It needed 
 all Jane's steady mildness to bear these attacks 
 with tolerable tranquillity. 
 
 Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the 
 Monday fortnight; but his reception at Longbourn 
 was not quite so gracious as it had been on his 
 first introduction. He was too happy, however, 
 to need much attention; and, luckily for the 
 others, the business of love-making relieved them 
 from a great deal of his company. The chief of 
 every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and 
 he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time 
 to make an apology for his absence before the 
 family went to bed. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. 
 The very mention of anything concerning the 
 match threw her into an agony of ill-humor, and 
 wherever she went she was sure of hearing it 
 
196 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to 
 her. As her successor in that house, she regarded 
 her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte 
 came to see them, she concluded her to be an- 
 ticipating the hour of possession; and whenever 
 she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was con- 
 vinced that they were talking of the Longbourn 
 estate, and resolving to turn herself and her daugh- 
 ters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was 
 dead. She complained bitterly of all this to her 
 husband. 
 
 '^Indeed, Mr. Bennet,'' said she, ^'it is very 
 hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be 
 mistress of this house, that I should be forced to 
 make way for her, and live to see her take my 
 place in it.'' 
 
 *^My dear, do not give way to such gloomy 
 thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us 
 flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor." 
 
 This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet; 
 and therefore, instead of making any answer, she 
 went on as before. 
 
 ^^I cannot bear to think that they should have 
 all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I 
 should not mind it." 
 
 What should not you mind? " 
 I should not mind anything at all." 
 Let us be thankful that you are preserved from 
 a state of such i-nsensibility." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 197 
 
 I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for any- 
 thing about the entail. How any one could have 
 the conscience to entail away an estate from one's 
 own daughters I cannot understand; and all for 
 the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should he 
 have it more than anybody else?'' 
 
 leave it to yourself to determine," said Mr. 
 Bennet. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to 
 doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the as- 
 surance of their being all settled in London for the 
 winter, and concluded with her brother's regret 
 at not having had time to pay his respects to 
 his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the 
 country. 
 
 Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane 
 could attend to the rest of the letter, she found 
 little, except the professed affection of the writer, 
 that could give her any comfort. Miss Barcy's 
 praise occupied the chief of it. Her many attrac- 
 tions were again dwelt on; and Caroline boasted 
 joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured 
 to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which 
 had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote 
 also with great pleasure of her brother's being an 
 inmate of Mr. Darcy's house, and mentioned with 
 raptures some plans of the latter with regard to 
 new furniture. 
 
 Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communi- 
 cated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indig- 
 nation. Her heart was divided between concern 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 199 
 
 for her sister and resentment against all others. 
 To Caroline's assertion of her brother's being par- 
 tial to Miss Darcy, she paid no credit. That he 
 was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than 
 she had ever done; and much as she had always 
 been disposed to like him, she could not think 
 without anger, hardly without contempt, on that 
 easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, 
 which now made him the slave of his designing 
 friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness 
 to the caprice of their inclinations. Had his own 
 happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he 
 might have been allowed to sport with it in what- 
 ever manner he thought best ; but her sister's was 
 involved in it, as she thought he must be sensible 
 himself. It was a subject, in short, on which 
 reflection would be long indulged, and must be 
 unavailing. She could think of nothing else ; and 
 yet, whether Bingley's regard had really died 
 away, or were suppressed by his friend's interfer- 
 ence; whether he had been aware of Jane's attach- 
 ment, or whether it had escaped his observation; 
 whatever were the case, though her opinion of him 
 must be materially affected by the difference, her 
 sister's situation remained the same, her peace 
 equally wounded. 
 
 A day or two passed before Jane had courage to 
 Bpeak of her feelings to Elizabeth ; but at last, on 
 Mrs. Bennet's leaving them together, jifter a longer 
 
200 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 irritation than usual about ISTetlierfield and its 
 master, slie could not help saying, — 
 
 Oh that my dear mother had more command 
 over herself; she can have no idea of the pain she 
 gives me by her continual reflections on him. But 
 I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will 
 be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.'' 
 
 Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous 
 solicitude, but said nothing. 
 
 You doubt me," cried Jane, slightly coloring; 
 
 indeed you have no reason. He may live in my 
 memory as the most amiable man of my acquaint- 
 ance, but that is all. I have nothing either 
 to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him 
 with. Thank God, I have not that pain. A little 
 time, therefore — I shall certainly try to get the 
 better — " 
 
 With a stronger voice she soon added: have 
 this comfort immediately, that it has not been 
 more than an error of fancy on my side, and that 
 it has done no harm to any one but myself." 
 
 ^'My dear Jane," exclaimed Elizabeth, ^^you 
 are too good. Your sweetness and disinterested- 
 ness are really angelic; I do not know what to say 
 to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, 
 or loved you as you deserve." 
 
 Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraor- 
 dinary merit, and threw back the praise on her 
 sister's warm affection. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 201 
 
 '^Nay/' said Elizabeth, ^^this is not fair. 
 You wish to think all the world respectable, and 
 are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to 
 think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. 
 Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, 
 of my encroaching on your privilege of universal 
 good-will. You need not. There are few people 
 whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I 
 think well. The more I see of the world the more 
 am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms 
 my belief of the inconsistency of all human char- 
 acters, and of the little dependence that can be 
 placed on the appearance of either merit or sense. 
 I have met with two instances lately: one I 
 will not mention; the other is Charlotte's mar- 
 riage. It is unaccountable, — in every view it is 
 unaccountable! 
 
 "M.J dear Lizzie, do not give way to such feel- 
 ings as these. They will ruin your happiness. 
 You do not make allowance enough for difference 
 of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collinses 
 respectability, and Charlotte's prudent, steady 
 character. Remember that she is one of a large 
 family; that as to fortune it is a most eligible 
 match; and be ready to believe, for everybody's 
 sake, that she may feel something like regard and 
 esteem for our cousin." 
 
 *^To oblige you, I would try to believe almost 
 anything, but no one else could be benefited by 
 
202 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that 
 Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only 
 think worse of her understanding than I now do 
 of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a 
 conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; 
 you know he is, as well as I do; and you must 
 feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries 
 him cannot have a proper way of thinking. You 
 shall not defend her, though it is Charlotte Lucas. 
 You shall not, for the sake of one individual 
 change the meaning of principle and integrity, 
 nor endeavor to persuade yourself or me, that 
 selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of dan- 
 ger security for happiness.'' 
 
 '^I must think your language too strong in 
 speaking of both," replied Jane; ^^and I hope 
 you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happy 
 together. But enough of this. You alluded to 
 something else. You mentioned two instances. 
 I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat you, 
 dear Lizzie, not to pain me by thinking that per- 
 son to blame, and saying your opinion of him is 
 sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves 
 intentionally injured. We must not expect a 
 lively young man to be always so guarded and 
 circumspect. It is very often nothing but our 
 own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy 
 admiration means more than it does." 
 
 "And men take care that they should." 
 
 \ 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 203 
 
 *'If it is designedly done, they cannot be justi- 
 fied; but I have no idea of there being so much 
 design in the world as some persons imagine." 
 
 '^I am far from attributing any part of Mr. 
 Bingley's conduct to design," said Elizabeth; 
 **but without scheming to do wrong or to make 
 others unhappy, there may be error and there may 
 be misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to 
 other people's feelings, and want of resolution will 
 do the business." 
 
 *^And do you impute it to either of those?" 
 
 *^Yes; to the last. But if I go on I shall dis- 
 please you by saying what I think of persons you 
 esteem. Stop me whilst you can." 
 
 *^You persist, then, in supposing his sisters 
 influence him.'' 
 
 Yes, in conjunction with his friend." 
 
 ^'1 cannot believe it. Why should they try to 
 influence him? They can only wish his happiness; 
 and if he is attached to me, no other woman can 
 secure it." 
 
 '^Your first position is false. They may wish 
 many things besides his happiness : they may wish 
 his increase of wealth and consequence; they may 
 wish him to marry a girl who has all the impor- 
 tance of money, great connections, and pride." 
 
 Beyond a doubt they do wish him to choose 
 Miss Darcy," replied Jane; ^^but this may be 
 from better feelings than you are supposing. They 
 
204 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 have known her much longer than they have known 
 me ; no wonder if they love her better. But whatever 
 may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they 
 should have opposed their brother's. What sister 
 would think herself at liberty to do it, unless there 
 were something very objectionable? If they be- 
 lieved him attached to me, they would not try to 
 part us ; if he were so, they could not succeed. By 
 supposing such an affection, you make everybody 
 acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most un- 
 happy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am 
 not ashamed of having been mistaken — or, at 
 least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of 
 what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his 
 sisters. Let me take it in the best light, in the 
 light in which it may be understood." 
 
 Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and 
 from this time Mr. Bingley's name was scarcely 
 ever mentioned between them. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and re- 
 pine at his returning no more ; and though a day 
 seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account 
 for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her 
 ever considering it with less perplexity. Her 
 daughter endeavored to convince her of what she 
 did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane 
 had been merely the effect of a common and tran- 
 sient liking, which ceased when he saw her no 
 more; but though the probability of the statement 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 205 
 
 was admitted at the time, she had the same story 
 to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet's best comfort 
 was that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the 
 summer. 
 
 Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. So, 
 Lizzy/' said he, one day, ^^your sister is crossed 
 in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next to be- 
 ing married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a 
 little now and then. It is something to think of, 
 and gives her a sort of distinction among her com- 
 panions. When is your turn to come? You will 
 hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is 
 your time. Here are officers enough at Meryton 
 to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. 
 Let Wickham be your man. He is a pleasant 
 fellow, and would jilt you creditably." 
 
 "Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man 
 would satisfy me. We must not all expect Jane's 
 good fortune." 
 
 "True," said Mr. Bennet; "but it is a comfort 
 to think that, whatever of that kind may befall 
 you, you have an affectionate mother who will 
 always make the most of it." 
 
 Mr. Wickham's society was of material service 
 in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse 
 occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn 
 family. They saw him often, and to his other 
 recommendations was now added that of general 
 unreserve. The whole of what Elizabeth had al- 
 
206 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ready heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that 
 he had suffered from him was now openly acknowl- 
 edged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was 
 pleased to think how much they had always dis- 
 liked Mr. Darcy before they had known anything 
 of the matter. 
 
 Miss Bennet was the only creature who could 
 suppose there might be any extenuating circum- 
 stances in the case unknown to the society of 
 Hertfordshire : her mild and steady candor always 
 pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility 
 of mistakes ; but by everybody else Mr. Darcy was 
 condemned as the worst of men. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 After a week spent in professions of love and 
 schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins was called from 
 his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of Saturday. 
 The pain of separation, however, might be allevi- 
 ated on his side by preparations for the recep- 
 tion of his bride, as he had reason to hope that 
 shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire 
 the day would be fixed that was to make him the 
 happiest of men. He took leave of his relations 
 at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; 
 wished his fair cousins health and happiness 
 again, and promised their father another letter of 
 thanks. 
 
 On the following Monday Mrs. Bennet had the 
 pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who 
 came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at Long- 
 bourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentleman- 
 like man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by 
 nature as education. The ISTetherfield ladies would 
 have had difficulty in believing that a man who 
 lived by trade, and within view of his own ware- 
 houses, could have been so well bred and agreeable. 
 Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger 
 
208 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amia- 
 ble, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great fa- 
 vorite with her Longbourn nieces. Between the 
 two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a 
 very particular regard. They had frequently been 
 staying with her in town. 
 
 The first part of Mrs. Gardiner's business, on 
 her arrival, was to distribute her presents and 
 describe the newest fashions. When this was 
 done, she had a less active part to play. It be- 
 came her turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many 
 grievances to relate, and much to complain of. 
 They had all been very ill-used since she last 
 saw her sister. Two of her girls had been on the 
 point of marriage, and after all there was nothing 
 in it. 
 
 ^^I do not blame Jane," she continued, *^for 
 Jane would have got Mr. Bingley if she could. 
 But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think 
 that she might have been Mr. Collins's wife by 
 this time, had not it been for her own perverse- 
 ness. He made her an offer in this very room, 
 and she refused him. The consequence of it is 
 that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before 
 I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as much 
 entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful 
 people, indeed, sister. They are all for what they 
 can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it 
 is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 209 
 
 thwarted so in my own family, and to have neigh- 
 bors who think of themselves before anybody else. 
 However, your coming just at this time is the 
 greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear 
 what you tell us of long sleeves." 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news 
 had been given before, in the course of Jane and 
 Elizabeth's correspondence with her, made her 
 sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her 
 nieces, turned the conversation. 
 
 When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she 
 spoke more on the subject. '^It seems likely to 
 have been a desirable match for Jane," said she. 
 ^'I am sorry it went off. But these things hap- 
 pen so often ! A young man, such as you describe 
 Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty 
 girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates 
 them, so easily forgets her, that these sort of in- 
 constancies are very frequent." 
 
 ^^An excellent consolation in its way," said 
 Elizabeth; but it will not do for us. We do not 
 suffer by accident. It does not often happen that 
 the interference of friends will persuade a young 
 man of independent fortune to think no more of a 
 girl whom he was violently in love with only a 
 few days before." 
 
 ^^But that expression of ^violently in love ' is 
 so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it 
 gives me very little idea. It is as often applied 
 
 VOL. I. — 14 
 
210 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 to feelings which arise only from a half hour's ac- 
 quaintance as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, 
 how violent was Mr. Bingley^s love? 
 
 I never saw a more promising inclination; he 
 was growing quite inattentive to other people, and 
 wholly engrossed by her. Every time they met, it 
 was more decided and remarkable. At his own 
 ball he offended two or three young ladies by not 
 asking them to dance ; and I spoke to him twice 
 myself without receiving an answer. Could there 
 be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the 
 very essence of love? 
 
 Oh, yes! of that kind of love which I suppose 
 him to have felt. Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, 
 because, with her dispo-^ition, she may not get 
 over it immediately. It had better have happened 
 to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself 
 out of it sooner. But do you think she would be 
 prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene 
 might be of service, and perhaps a little relief 
 from home may be as useful as anything.'' 
 
 Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this 
 proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister's ready 
 acquiescence. 
 
 ^^I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, ''that no con- 
 sideration with regard to this young man will in- 
 fluence her. We live in so different a part of 
 town, all our connections are so different, and, as 
 you well know, we go out so little, that it is very 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 211 
 
 improbable they should meet at all, unless he 
 really comes to see her." 
 
 And that is quite impossible; for he is now in 
 the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no 
 more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of 
 London ! My dear aunt, how could you think of 
 it? Mr. Darcy may perhaps have heard of such 
 a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly 
 think a month's ablution enough to cleanse him 
 from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and 
 depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without 
 him.'' 
 
 ^^So much the better. I hope they will not 
 meet at all. But does not Jane correspond with 
 his sister? She will not be able to help calling." 
 She will drop the acquaintance entirely." 
 
 But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth 
 affected to place this point, as well as the still 
 more interesting one of Binglej^'s being withheld 
 from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the sub- 
 ject which convinced her, on examination, that she 
 did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was pos- 
 sible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that 
 his affection might be re-animated, and the influ- 
 ence of his friends successfully combated by the 
 more natural influence of Jane's attractions. 
 
 Miss Bennet accepted her aunt's invitation with 
 pleasure; and the Bingleys were no otherwise in 
 her thoughts at the same time than as she hoped, 
 
212 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 by Caroline's not living in the same house with 
 her brother, she might occasionally spend a morn- 
 ing with her, without any danger of seeing him. 
 
 The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn ; and 
 what with the Philipses, the Lucases, and the offi- 
 cers, there was not a day without its engagement. 
 Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the en- 
 tertainment of her brother and sister, that they 
 did not once sit down to a family dinner. When 
 the engagement was for home, some of the officers 
 always made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wick- 
 ham was sure to be one; and on these occasions 
 Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth's 
 warm commendation of him, narrowly observed 
 them both. Without supposing them, from what 
 she saw, to be very seriously in love, their prefer- 
 ence of each other was plain enough to make her a 
 little uneasy; and she resolved to speak to Eliza- 
 beth on the subject before she left Hertfordshire, 
 and represent to her the imprudence of encourag- 
 ing such an attachment. 
 
 To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of 
 affording pleasure, unconnected with his general 
 powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, before 
 her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in 
 that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. 
 They had therefore many acquaintance in com- 
 mon ; and though Wickham had been little there 
 since the death of Darcy's father, five years before, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 213 
 
 it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelli- 
 gence of her former friends than she had been in 
 the way of procuring. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known 
 the late Mr. Darcy by character perfectly well. 
 Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible subject 
 of discourse. In comparing her recollection of 
 Pemberley with the minute description which 
 Wickham could give, and in bestowing her tribute 
 of praise on the character of its late possessor, she 
 was delighting both him and herself. On being 
 made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy's 
 treatment of him, she tried to remember some- 
 thing of that gentleman's reputed disposition, 
 when quite a lad, which might agree with it; and 
 was confident, at last, that she recollected having 
 heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of 
 as a very proud, ill-natured boy. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Mks. Gardiner's caution to Elizabeth was punc- 
 tually and kindly given on the first favorable op- 
 portunity of speaking to her alone. After honestly 
 telling her what she thought, she thus went on : 
 
 ^'You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in 
 love merely because you are warned against it; 
 and therefore I am not afraid of speaking openly. 
 Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. 
 Do not involve yourself, or endeavor to involve 
 him, in an affection which the want of fortune 
 would make so very imprudent. I have nothing 
 to say against him : he is a most interesting young 
 man ; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, 
 I should think you could not do better. But as it 
 is — you must not let your fancy run away with 
 you. You have sense, and we all expect you to 
 use it. Your father would depend on your resolu- 
 tion and 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 be serious 
 likewise." 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 215 
 
 Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. 
 I will take care of myself, and of Mr. Wickham 
 too. He shall not be in love with me, if I can 
 prevent 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 com- 
 parison, the most agreeable man I ever saw; and 
 if he becomes really attached to me — I believe it 
 will be better that he should not. I see the im- 
 prudence of it. Oh, that abominable Mr. Darcy! 
 My father's opinion of me does me the greatest 
 honor, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. 
 My father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. 
 In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry 
 to be the means of making any of you unhappy; 
 but since we see, every day, that where there is 
 affection young people are seldom withheld, by 
 immediate want of fortune, from entering into 
 engagements with each other, how can I promise 
 to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures, 
 if I am temptea, or how am I even to know that it 
 would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise 
 you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not 
 be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. 
 When I am in company with him, I will not be 
 wishing. In short, I will do my best." 
 
 Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage 
 
216 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 his coming here so very often. At least you 
 should not remind your mother of inviting him.'' 
 As I did the other day/' said Elizaheth, with 
 a conscious smile; very true, it will he wise in 
 me to refrain from that. But do not imagine that 
 he is always here so often. It is on your account 
 that he has been so frequently invited this week. 
 You know my mother's ideas as to the necessity of 
 constant company for her friends. But really, and 
 upon my honor, I will try to do what I think to he 
 wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied." 
 
 Her aunt assured her that she was; and Eliza- 
 beth, having thanked her for the kindness of her 
 hints, they parted, — a wonderful instance of ad- 
 vice being given on such a point without being 
 resented. 
 
 Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon 
 after it had been quitted by the Gardiners and 
 Jane; but as he took up his abode with the Lu- 
 cases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to 
 Mrs. Bennet. His marriage was now fast ap- 
 proaching; and she was at length so far resigned 
 as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to 
 say, in an ill-natured tone, that she wished they 
 might be happy." Thursday was to be the wed- 
 ding-day, and on Wednesday 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 her- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 217 
 
 self, accompanied her out of the room. As they 
 went downstairs together, Charlotte said, — 
 
 ^^I shall depend on hearing from you very often, 
 Eliza." 
 
 That you certainly shall." 
 
 ^^And I have another favor to ask. Will you 
 come and see me?" 
 
 We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire." 
 am not likely to leave Kent for some time. 
 Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford." 
 
 Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw 
 little pleasure in the visit. 
 
 ^^My father and Maria are to come to me in 
 March," added Charlotte, ^^and I hope you will 
 consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will 
 be as welcome to me as either of them." 
 
 The wedding took place: the bride and bride- 
 groom set off for Kent from the church door, and 
 everybody had as much to say or to hear on the sub- 
 ject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her 
 friend, and their correspondence was as regular 
 and frequent as it ever had been; that it should 
 be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth 
 could never address her without feeling that all 
 the comfort of intimacy was over; and though de- 
 termined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was 
 for the sake of what had been rather than what 
 was. Charlotte's first letters were received with a 
 good deal of eagerness: there could not but be 
 
218 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 curiosity to know how she would speak of her new 
 home, how she would like Lady Catherine, and 
 how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be; 
 though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt 
 that Charlotte expressed herself on every point 
 exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote 
 cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and 
 mentioned nothing which she could not praise. 
 The house, furniture, neighborhood, and roads 
 were all to her taste, and Lad}^ Catherine's be- 
 havior was most friendly and obliging. It was 
 Mr. Collins's picture of Hunsford and Rosings 
 rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that 
 she must wait for her own visit there, to know 
 the rest. 
 
 Jane had already written a few lines to her 
 sister, to announce their safe arrival in London; 
 and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it 
 would be in her power to say something of the 
 Bingleys. Her impatience for this second letter 
 was as 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 supposing that 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 in Grosvenor Street." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 219 
 
 She wrote again when the visit was paid, and 
 she had seen Miss Bingley. 
 
 " I did not think CaroUne in spirits," were her words ; 
 " but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for 
 giving her no notice of my coming to London. I was 
 right, therefore ; my last letter had never 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 to 
 dinner : I wish I could see her. My visit was not long, 
 as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say 
 I shall soon see them here." 
 
 Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It 
 convinced her that accident only could discover to 
 Mr. Bingley her sister's being in town. 
 
 Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing 
 of him. She endeavored to persuade herself that 
 she did not regret it; but she could no longer be 
 blind to Miss Bingley's inattention. After wait- 
 ing at home every morning for a fortnight, and in- 
 venting every evening a fresh excuse for her, the 
 visitor did at last appear ; but the shortness of her 
 stay, and yet more the alteration of her manner 
 would allow Jane to deceive herself no longer. 
 The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her 
 sister will prove what she felt: — 
 
 My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of tri- 
 umphing in her better judgment, at my expense, when I 
 confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss 
 Bingley's regard for me. But, my dear sister, though 
 the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate 
 
220 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 if I still assert that, considering what her behavior was, 
 my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not 
 at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate 
 with me ; but if the same circumstances were to happen 
 again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline 
 did not return my visit till yesterday ; and not a note, 
 not a line, did I receive in the mean time. When she did 
 come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it ; 
 she made a slight, formal apology for not calling before, 
 said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in 
 every respect so altered a creature that when she went 
 away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaint- 
 ance no longer. I pity, though 1 cannot help blaming 
 her. She was very wrong in singling me out as she did ; 
 I can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on 
 her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she 
 has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that 
 anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need not 
 explain myself further ; and though we know this anxiety 
 to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily ac- 
 count for her behavior to me ; and so deservedly dear as 
 he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may feel on his 
 behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, 
 however, at her having any such fears now, because if he 
 had at all cared about me, we must have met long, long 
 ago. 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 if she wanted to persuade her- 
 self 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 there is a strong 
 appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavor 
 to banish every painful thought, and think only of what 
 will make me happy, your affection, and the invariable 
 kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from 
 you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 221 
 
 returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, 
 but not with any certainty. We had better not mention 
 it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant ac- 
 counts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see 
 them, with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will 
 be very comfortable there. 
 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her 
 spirits returned, as she considered that Jane would 
 no longer be duped, by the sister at least. All ex- 
 pectation from the brother was now absolutely over. 
 She would not even wish for any renewal of his at- 
 tentions. His character sunk on every review of 
 it ; and, as a punishment for him, as well as a pos- 
 sible advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he 
 might really soon marry Mr. Darcy's sister, as, by 
 Wickham's account, she would make him abun- 
 dantly regret what he had thrown away. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Eliza- 
 beth of her promise concerning that gentleman, 
 and required information; and Elizabeth had such 
 to send as might rather give contentment to her 
 aunt than to herself. His apparent partiality had 
 subsided, his attentions were over, he was the ad- 
 mirer of some one else. Elizabeth was watchful 
 enough to see it all, 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 
 
222 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most 
 remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he 
 was now rendering himself agreeable; but Eliza- 
 beth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than 
 in Charlotte's, did not quarrel with him for his 
 wish of independence. Nothing, on the contrary, 
 could be more natural ; 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 very sincerely wish 
 him happy. 
 
 All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; 
 and after relating the circumstances, she thus 
 went on: — 
 
 " I am now convinced, my dear aunt, that I have never 
 been much in love; for had I really experienced that 
 pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his 
 very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my 
 feelings are not only cordial towards 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 unwilHng to 
 think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no 
 love in all this. My watchfulness has been effectual ; 
 and though I should certainly be a more interesting ob- 
 ject to all my acquaintance, were I distractedly in love 
 with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative in- 
 significance. Importance may sometimes be purchased 
 too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take his defectibn much 
 more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways 
 of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying convic- 
 tion that handsome young men must have something to 
 live on, as well as the plain." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 With no greater events than these in the Long- 
 bourn family, and otherwise diversified by little 
 beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and 
 sometimes cold, did January and February pass 
 away. March w^as to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. 
 She had not at first thought very seriously of going 
 thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was de- 
 pending on the plan, and she gradually learned to 
 consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as 
 greater certainty. Absence had increased her de- 
 sire of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her 
 disgust of Mr. Collins. There was novelty in the 
 scheme; and as with such a mother and such un- 
 companionable sisters home could not be faultless, 
 a little change was not unwelcome for its own sake. 
 The journey would, moreover, give her a peep at 
 J ane ; and in short, as the time drew near, she would 
 have been very sorry for any delay. Everything, 
 however, went on smoothly, and was finally settled 
 according to Charlotte's first sketch. She was to 
 accompany Sir William and his second daughter. 
 The improvement of spending a night in London 
 was added in time, and the plan became perfect as 
 plan could be. 
 
224 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 The only pain was in leaving her father, who 
 would certainly miss her, and who, when it came 
 to the point, so little liked her going that he told 
 her to write to him, and almost promised to answer 
 her letter. 
 
 The farewell hetween herself and Mr. Wickham 
 was perfectly friendly; on his side even more. 
 His present pursuit could not make him forget 
 that Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to 
 deserve his attention, the first to listen and to 
 pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner 
 of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoy- 
 ment, reminding her of what she was to expect in 
 Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their 
 opinion of her — their opinion of everybody — would 
 always coincide, there was a solicitude, an interest, 
 which she felt must ever attach her to him with a 
 most sincere regard; and she parted from him 
 convinced that whether married or single, he 
 must always be her model of the amiable and 
 pleasing. 
 
 Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a 
 kind to make her think him less agreeable. Sir 
 William Lucas and his daughter Maria, a good- 
 humored girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had 
 nothing to say that could be worth hearing, and 
 were listened to with about as much delight as the 
 rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, 
 but she had known Sir William's too long. He 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 225 
 
 could tell her nothing new of the wonders of his 
 presentation and knighthood; and his civilities 
 were worn out like his information. 
 
 It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and 
 they hegan it so early as to be in Gracechurch 
 Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner's 
 door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watch- 
 ing their arrival : when they entered the passage, 
 she was there to welcome them; and Elizabeth, 
 looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it 
 healthful and lovely as ever. On the stairs were a 
 troop of little boys and girls, whose eagerness for 
 their cousin's appearance would not allow them to 
 wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as 
 they had not seen her for a twelvemonth, pre- 
 vented their coming lower. All was joy and kind- 
 ness. The day passed most pleasantly away, — the 
 morning in bustle and shopping, and the evening 
 at one of the theatres. 
 
 Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. 
 Their first subject was her sister; and she was 
 more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to her 
 minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled 
 to support her spirits, there were periods of dejec- 
 tion. It was reasonable, however, to hope that 
 they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner 
 gave her the particulars also of Miss Bingley's 
 visit in Gracechurch Street, and repeated conversa- 
 tions occurring at different times between Jane 
 
 VOL. I.— 15 
 
226 PHIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 and herself, which proved that the former had, 
 from her heart, given up the acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wick- 
 ham's desertion, and complimented her on bearing 
 it so well. 
 
 **But, my dear Elizabeth," she added, ^'what 
 sort of girl is Miss King? I should be sorry to 
 think our friend mercenary." 
 
 "Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference, in 
 matrimonial affairs, between the mercenary and 
 the prudent motive? Where does discretion end, 
 and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were 
 afraid of his marrying me, because it would be 
 imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get 
 a girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to 
 find out that he is mercenary." 
 
 "If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss 
 King is, I shall know what to think." 
 
 ^ ^ She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I 
 know no harm of her." 
 
 "But he paid her not the smallest attention till 
 her grandfather's death made her mistress of this 
 fortune?" 
 
 "No; why should he? If it were not allow- 
 able for him to gain my affections because I had 
 no money, what occasion could there be for making 
 love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who 
 was equally poor? " 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. ^27 
 
 "But there seems indelicacy in directing his 
 attentions towards her so soon after this event.'' 
 
 man in distressed circumstances has not 
 time 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 her- 
 self, — sense or feeling." 
 
 "Well," cried Elizabeth, "have it as you 
 choose. He shall be mercenary, and she shall be 
 foolish." 
 
 "No, Lizzy, that is what I do not choose. I 
 should be sorry, you know, to think ill of a young 
 man who has lived so long in Derbyshire." 
 
 "Oh, if that is all, I have a very poor opinion 
 of young men who live in Derbyshire; and their 
 intimate friends who live 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, who has 
 neither manner nor sense to recommend him. 
 Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, 
 after all." 
 
 "Take care, Lizzy; that speech savors strongly 
 of disappointment." 
 
 Before they were separated by the conclusion of 
 the play, she had the unexpected happiness of an 
 invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a 
 
228 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the 
 summer. 
 
 We have not quite determined how far it shall 
 carry us," said Mrs. Gardiner, "but perhaps to 
 the Lakes." 
 
 No scheme could have been more agreeable to 
 Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was 
 most ready and grateful. ''My dear, dear aunt," 
 she rapturously cried, ''what delight, what feli- 
 city! You give me fresh life and vigor. Adieu 
 to disappointment and spleen. What are men to 
 rocks and mountains? Oh, what hours of trans- 
 port we shall spend! And when we do return, it 
 shall not be like other 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 be jumbled together in our imaginations ; 
 nor, when we attempt to describe any particular 
 scene, will we begin quarrelling about its relative 
 situation. Let our first effusions be less insupport- 
 able than those of the generality of travellers." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Every object in the next day's journey was new 
 and interesting to Elizabeth, and her spirits were 
 in a state of enjoyment ; for she had seen her sister 
 looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, 
 and the prospect of her northern tour was a con- 
 stant source of delight. 
 
 When they left the high-road for the lane to 
 Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parson- 
 age, and every turning expected to bring it in view. 
 The paling of Rosings park was their boundary on 
 one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of 
 all that she had heard of its inhabitants. 
 
 At length the Parsonage was discernible. The 
 garden sloping to the road, the house standing in 
 it, the green pales, and the laurel hedge, — every- 
 thing declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and 
 Charlotte appeared at the door; and the carriage 
 stopped at the small gate, which led by a short 
 gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and 
 smiles of the whole party. In a moment they 
 were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight 
 of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend 
 with the liveliest pleasure; and Elizabeth was 
 
230 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 more and more satisfied with coming, when she 
 found herself so affectionately received. She saw 
 instantly that her cousin's manners were 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 inqui- 
 ries after all her family. They were then, with no 
 other delay than his pointing out the neatness of 
 the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as 
 they were in the parlor, he welcomed them a second 
 time, with ostentatious formality, to his humble 
 abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers 
 of refreshment. 
 
 Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; 
 and she could not help fancying that in displaying 
 the good proportion of the room, its aspect, and its 
 furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, 
 as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in 
 refusing him. But though everything seemed 
 neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify 
 him by any sigh of repentance, and rather looked 
 with wonder at her friend, that she could have so 
 cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr. 
 Collins said anything of which his wife might 
 reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not 
 seldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on Char- 
 lotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint 
 blush; but in general Charlotte wisely did not 
 hear. After sitting long enough to admire every 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 231 
 
 article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard 
 to the fender, to give an account of their journey, 
 and of all that had happened in London, Mr. 
 Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, 
 which was large and well laid out, and to the culti- 
 vation of which he attended himself. To work in 
 his garden was one of his most respectable pleas- 
 ures; and Elizabeth admired the command of 
 countenance with which Charlotte talked of the 
 healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she en- 
 couraged it as much as possible. Here, leading 
 the way through every walk and cross walk, and 
 scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the 
 praises he asked for, every view was pointed out 
 with a minuteness which left beauty entirely be- 
 hind. He could number the fields in every direc- 
 tion, and could tell how many trees there were in 
 the most distant clump. But of all the views 
 which his garden or which the country or the 
 kingdom could boast, none were to be compared 
 with the prospect of Eosings, afforded by an open- 
 ing in the trees that bordered the park nearly oppo- 
 site the front of his house. It was a handsome 
 modern building, well situated on rising ground. 
 
 From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led 
 them round his two meadows; but the ladies, not 
 having shoes to encounter the remains of a white 
 frost, turned back ; and while Sir William accom- 
 panied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend 
 
232 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 over the house, extremely well pleased, probably, 
 to have the opportunity of showing it without hei 
 husband's help. It was rather small, but well 
 built and convenient j and everything was fitted 
 up and arranged with a neatness and consistency 
 of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. 
 When Mr. Collins could be forgotten, there was 
 really a great air of comfort throughout; and by 
 Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth 
 supposed he must be often forgotten. 
 
 She had already learned that Lady Catherine 
 was still in the country. It was spoken of again 
 while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins, join- 
 ing in, observed, — 
 
 *^Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honor 
 of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensu- 
 ing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will 
 be delighted with her. She is all affability and 
 condescension, and I doubt not but you will be 
 honored with some portion of her notice when 
 service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in 
 saying that she will include you and my sister 
 Maria in every invitation with which she honors 
 us during your stay here. Her behavior to my 
 dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Eosings 
 twice every week, and are never allowed to walk 
 home. Her Ladyship's carriage is regularly or- 
 dered for us. I should say, one of her Ladyship's 
 carriages, for she has several." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 233 
 
 "Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible 
 woman, indeed," added Charlotte, ''and a most 
 attentive neighbor." 
 
 ''Very true, my dear; that is exactly what I 
 say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot 
 regard with too much deference." 
 
 The evening was spent chiefly in talking over 
 Hertfordshire news, and telling again what had 
 been already written; and when it closed, Eliza- 
 beth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to medi- 
 tate upon Charlotte's degree of contentment, to 
 understand her address in guiding, and composure 
 in bearing with her husband, and to acknowledge 
 that it was all done very well. She had also to 
 anticipate how her visit would pass, — the quiet 
 tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious 
 interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gayeties of 
 their intercourse with Rosings. A lively imagina- 
 tion soon settled it all. 
 
 About the middle of the next day, as she was in 
 her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise 
 below seemed to speak the whole house in confu- 
 sion; and after listening a moment, she heard 
 somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry, and 
 calling loudly after her. She opened the door and 
 met Maria in the landing-place, who, breathless 
 with agitation, cried out, — 
 
 <'0h, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come 
 into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to 
 
234 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make 
 haste, and come down this moment." 
 
 Elizabeth asked questions in vain ; Maria would 
 tell her nothing more ; and down they ran into the 
 dining-room, which fronted the lane, in quest of 
 this wonder : it was two ladies, stopping in a low 
 phaeton at the garden gate. 
 
 ''And is this all?'' cried Elizabeth. "I ex- 
 pected at least that the pigs were got into 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 lives with them. 
 The other is Miss de Bourgh. Only look at her. 
 She is quite a little creature. Who would have 
 thought she could be so thin and small!" 
 
 *^She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out 
 of doors in all this wind. Why does she not 
 come in?" 
 
 '^Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It 
 is the greatest of favors 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 both standing at 
 the gate in conversation with the ladies ; and Sir 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 235 
 
 William, to Elizabeth's high diversion, was star 
 tioned in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of 
 the greatness before him, and constantly bowing 
 whenever Miss de Bourgh looked that way. 
 
 At length there was nothing more to be said; 
 the ladies drove on, and the others returned into 
 the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two 
 girls than he began to congratulate them on their 
 good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting 
 them know that the whole party was asked to dine 
 at Kosings the next day. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Mr. Colltns's triumph, in consequence of this 
 invitation, was complete. The power of display- 
 ing the grandeur of his patroness to his wonder- 
 ing visitors, and of letting them see her civility 
 towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he 
 had wished for j and that an opportunity of doing 
 it should be given so soon was such an instance 
 of Lady Catherine's condescension as he knew not 
 how to admire enough. 
 
 ^'I confess, said he, 'Hhat I should not have 
 been at all surprised by her Ladyship's asking us 
 on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening at 
 Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge 
 of her affability, that it would happen. But who 
 could have foreseen such an attention as this? 
 Who could have imagined that we should receive 
 an invitation to dine there (an invitation, more- 
 over, including the whole party) so immediately 
 after your arrival?" '^1 am the less surprised 
 at what has happened," replied Sir William, 
 '^from that knowledge of what the manners of the 
 great really are, which my situation in life has al- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 237 
 
 lowed me to acquire. About the court such in- 
 stances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.'' 
 
 Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day 
 or next morning but their visit to E-osings. Mr. 
 Collins was carefully instructing them in what 
 they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, 
 so many servants, and so splendid a dinner might 
 not wholly overpower them. 
 
 When the ladies were separating for the toilette, 
 he said to Elizabeth, — 
 
 ^^Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, 
 about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from 
 requiring that elegance of dress in us which be- 
 comes herself and daughter. I would advise you 
 merely to put on whatever of your clothes is supe- 
 rior to the rest ; there is no occasion for anything 
 more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse 
 of you for being simply dressed. She likes to 
 have the distinction of rank preserved.'' 
 
 While they were dressing, he came two or three 
 times to their different doors, to recommend their 
 being quick, as Lady Catherine very much ob- 
 jected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such 
 formidable accounts of her Ladyship and her man- 
 ner of living quite frightened Maria Lucas, who 
 had been little used to company; and she looked 
 forward to her introduction at Rosings with as 
 much apprehension as her father had done to his 
 presentation at St. James's. 
 
238 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant 
 walk of about half a mile across the park. Every 
 park has its beauty and its prospects ; and Eliza- 
 beth saw much to be pleased with, though she 
 could not be in such raptures as Mr. Collins ex- 
 pected the scene to inspire, and was but slightly 
 affected by his enumeration of the windows in 
 front of the house, and his relation of what the 
 glazing altogether had originally cost 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 perfectly calm. 
 Elizabeth's courage did not fail her. She had 
 heard nothing of Lady Catherine that spoke her 
 awful from any extraordinary talents or miracu- 
 lous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money 
 and rank she thought she could witness without 
 trepidation. 
 
 From the entrance hall, of which Mr. Collins 
 pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine propor- 
 tion and finished ornaments, they followed the ser- 
 vants through an antechamber to the room where 
 Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson 
 were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great conde- 
 scension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Col- 
 lins had settled it with her husband that the 
 office of introduction should be hers, it was per- 
 formed in a proper manner, without any of those 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 239 
 
 apologies and thanks wliicli he would have thought 
 necessary. 
 
 In spite of having been at St. James's, Sir Wil- 
 liam was so completely awed by the grandeur sur- 
 rounding him, that he had but just courage enough 
 to make a very low bow, and take his seat without 
 saying a word; and his daughter, frightened al- 
 most out of her senses, sat on the edge of her 
 chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth 
 found herself quite equal to the scene, 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 her manner of receiving them such as to 
 make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She 
 was not rendered formidable by silence; but what- 
 ever 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, she 
 believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he 
 had represented. 
 
 When, after examining the mother, in whose 
 countenance and deportment she soon found some 
 resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on 
 the daughter, she could almost have joined in 
 Maria's astonishment at her being so thin and 
 80 small. There was neither in figure nor face 
 
240 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 any likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh 
 was pale and sickly; her features, though not 
 plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very 
 little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, 
 in whose appearance there was nothing remark- 
 able, and who was entirely engaged in listening 
 to what she said, and placing a screen in the 
 proper direction before her eyes. 
 
 After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent 
 to one of the windows to admire the view, Mr. 
 Collins attending them to point out its beauties, 
 and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it 
 Was much better worth looking at in the summer. 
 
 The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there 
 were all the servants, and all the articles of plate 
 which Mr. Collins had promised; and as he had 
 likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of 
 the table, by her Ladyship's desire, and looked as 
 if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. 
 He carved and ate and praised with delighted 
 alacrity; and every dish was commended first by 
 him, and then by Sir William, who was now 
 enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law 
 said, in a manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady 
 Catherine could bear. But Lady Catherine seemed 
 gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave 
 most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on 
 the table proved a novelty to them. The party 
 did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 241 
 
 ready to speak whenever there was an opening; 
 but she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de 
 Bourgh — the former of whom was engaged in 
 listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said 
 not a word to her all dinner-time. Mrs. Jen- 
 kinson was chiefly employed in watching how 
 little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try 
 some other dish, and fearing 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 Cath- 
 erine talk, which she did without any intermission 
 till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every 
 subject in so decisive a manner as proved that she 
 was not used to have her judgment controverted. 
 She inquired into Charlotte's domestic concerns 
 familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal 
 '^f advice as to the management of them all; told 
 her how everything ought to be regulated in so 
 small a family as hers, and instructed her as to 
 the care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth 
 found that nothing was beneath this great lady's 
 attention which could furnish her with an occasion 
 for dictating to others. In the intervals of her 
 discourse with Mrs. Collins, she addressed a va- 
 riety of questions to Maria and Elizabeth, but es- 
 pecially to the latter, of whose connections she 
 knew the least, and who, she observed to Mrs. 
 
 VOL. I. — 16 
 
242 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Collins, was a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. 
 She asked lier at different times how many sisters 
 she had, whether they were older or younger than 
 herself, whether any of them were 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 her ques- 
 tions, 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, 
 ^'1 am glad 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 be 
 happy to hear you. Our instrument is a capital 
 one, probably superior 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." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 243 
 
 '^Tliat is very strange. But I suppose you had 
 no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you 
 to town every spring for the benefit of masters.'' 
 
 *'My mother would have no objection, but my 
 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 as- 
 sured 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 we 
 were; 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 ne- 
 cessary. Those who chose to be idle certainly 
 might." 
 
 "Ay, no doubt: but that is what a governess 
 will prevent; and if I had known your mother, I 
 should have advised her most strenuously to en- 
 gage one. I always say that nothing is to be done 
 in education without steady and regular instruc- 
 tion, and nobody but a governess can give it. It 
 is wonderful how many families I have been the 
 
244 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 means of supplying in that way. I am always 
 glad to get a young person well placed out. Four 
 nieces of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully 
 situated through my means; and it was but the 
 other day that I recommended another young per- 
 son, who was merely accidentally mentioned to 
 me, and the family are quite delighted with her. 
 Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalfe's 
 calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss 
 Pope a treasure. *Lady Catherine,' said she, 
 'you have given me a treasure.' Are any of 
 your younger sisters out. Miss Bennet?" 
 
 '^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 are married! Your younger sisters 
 must be very young? " 
 
 "Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps 
 she is full young to be much in company. But 
 really, ma'am, I think it would be very hard upon 
 younger sisters that they should not have their 
 share of society and amusement, because the elder 
 may not have the means or inclination to marry 
 early. The last born has as good a right to the 
 pleasures of youth as the first. And to be kept 
 back on such a motive ! I think it would not be 
 very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy 
 of mind." 
 
 *^ Upon my word," said her Ladyship, you give 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 245 
 
 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 at not 
 receiving a direct answer; and Elizabeth suspected 
 herself to be the first creature who had ever dared 
 to trifle with so much dignified impertinence. 
 
 You cannot be more than twenty, I am surej 
 therefore you need not conceal your age." 
 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. and Mrs. Collins 
 sat down to quadrille; and as Miss de Bourgh 
 chose to play at casino, the two girls had the 
 honor of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up 
 her party. Their table was superlatively stupid. 
 Scarcely a syllable was uttered that did not relate 
 to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson ex- 
 pressed her fears of Miss de Bourgh's being too 
 hot or too cold, or having too much or too little 
 light. A great deal more passed at the other table. 
 Lady Catherine was generally speaking, — stating 
 the mistakes of the three others, or relating some 
 anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins was employed in 
 agreeing to everything her Ladyship said, thank- 
 ing her for every fish he won, and apologizing if 
 
246 
 
 PRIDE AND PHEJUDICE. 
 
 he thought he won too many. Sir William did 
 not say much. He was storing his memory with 
 anecdotes and nohle names. 
 
 When Lady Catherine and her daughter had 
 played as long as they chose, the tables were 
 broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Col- 
 lins, gratefully accepted, and immediately ordered. 
 The party then gathered round the fire to hear 
 Lady Catherine determine what weather they were 
 to have on the morrow. From these instructions 
 they were summoned by the arrival of the coach; 
 and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. 
 Collinses side, 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 seen at 
 Kosings, which, for Charlotte's sake, she made 
 more favorable than it really was. But her commen- 
 dation, though costing her some trouble, could by 
 no means satisfy Mr. Collins; and he was very 
 soon obliged to take her Ladyship's praise into 
 his own hands. 
 
CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 Sir William stayed only a week at Hunsf ord ; 
 but his visit was long enough to convince him 
 of his daughter's being most comfortably settled, 
 and of her possessing such a husband and such a 
 neighbor as were not often met with. While Sir 
 William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his 
 mornings to driving him out in his gig and show- 
 ing him the country; but when he went away, the 
 whole family returned to their usual employments, 
 and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did 
 not see more of her cousin by the alteration; for 
 the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner 
 was now passed by him either at work in the gar- 
 den, or in reading and writing, and looking out of 
 window in his own book-room, which fronted the 
 road. The room in which the ladies sat was back- 
 wards. Elizabeth at first had rather wondered 
 that Charlotte should not prefer the dining-parlor 
 for common use; it was a better-sized room, and 
 had a pleasanter 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 in one 
 
248 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for 
 the arrangement. 
 
 From the drawing-room they could distinguish 
 nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. 
 Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went 
 along, and how often especially Miss de Bourgh 
 drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed 
 coming to inform them of, though it happened 
 almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped 
 at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes' conver- 
 sation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever pre- 
 vailed on to get out. 
 
 Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did 
 not walk to Kosings, and not many in which his 
 wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; and 
 till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other 
 family livings to be disposed of, she could not un- 
 derstand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and 
 then they were honored with a call from her Lady- 
 ship, and nothing escaped her observation that was 
 passing in the room during these visits. She ex- 
 amined into their employments, looked at their 
 work, and advised them to do it differently; found 
 fault with the arrangement of the furniture, or 
 detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she 
 accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for 
 the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins's joints of 
 meat were too large for her family. 
 
 Elizabeth soon perceived that though this great 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 249 
 
 lady was not in the commission of the peace for 
 the county, she was a most active magistrate in 
 her own parish, the minutest concerns of which 
 were carried to her by Mr. Collins ; and whenever 
 any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrel- 
 some, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth 
 into the village to settle their differences, silence 
 their complaints, and scold them into harmony 
 and plenty. 
 
 The entertainment of dining at Rosings was 
 repeated about twice a week; and allowing for 
 the loss of Sir William, and there being only one 
 card-table in the evening, every such entertain- 
 ment was the counterpart of the first. Their other 
 engagements were few; as the style of living of 
 the neighborhood in general was beyond the Col- 
 linses' reach. This, however, was no evil to 
 Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time 
 comfortably enough: there were half hours of 
 pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the 
 weather was so fine for the time of year that she 
 had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her 
 favorite walk, and where she frequently went 
 while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, 
 was along the open grove which edged that side of 
 the park where there was a nice sheltered path, 
 which no one seemed to value but herself, and 
 where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine's 
 curiosity. 
 
250 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 In this quiet way the first fortnight of her visit 
 soon passed away. Easter was approaching, and 
 the week preceding it was to bring an addition to 
 the family at E-osings, which in so small a circle 
 must be important. Elizabeth had heard, soon 
 after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy was expected 
 there in the course of a few weeks; and though 
 there were not many of her acquaintance whom 
 she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one 
 comparatively new to look at in their Eosings 
 parties, and she might be amused in seeing how 
 hopeless Miss Bingley's designs on him were, by 
 his behavior to his cousin, for whom he was evi- 
 dently destined by Lady Catherine; who talked of 
 his coming with the greatest satisfaction, spoke 
 of him in terms of the highest admiration, and 
 seemed almost angry to find that he had already 
 been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself. 
 
 His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; 
 for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning 
 within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford 
 Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it; 
 and after making his bow as the carriage turned 
 into the park, hurried home with the great intel- 
 ligence. On the following morning he hastened 
 to Eosings to pay his respects. There were two 
 nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for 
 Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitz- 
 william, the younger son of his uncle, Lord j 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 251 
 
 and, to the great surprise of all the party, when 
 Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen accompanied 
 him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband's 
 room, crossing the road, and immediately running 
 into the other, told the girls what an honor they 
 might expect, adding, — 
 
 ^'I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of 
 civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so 
 soon to wait upon me." 
 
 Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right 
 to the compliment, before their approach was an- 
 nounced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards 
 the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel 
 Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty; 
 not handsome, but in person and address most 
 truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as 
 he had been used to look in Hertfordshire; paid 
 his compliments, with his usual reserve, to Mrs. 
 Collins; and whatever might be his feelings to- 
 wards her friend, met her with every appearance 
 of composure. Elizabeth merely courtesied to him, 
 without saying a word. 
 
 Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation 
 directly, with the readiness and ease of a well-bred 
 man, and talked very pleasantly; but his cousin, 
 after having addressed a slight observation on the 
 house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some 
 time without speaking to anybody. At length, 
 however, his civility was so far awakened as to 
 
252 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 inquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. 
 She answered him in the usual way; and after a 
 moment's pause added, — 
 
 My eldest sister has been in town these three 
 months. Have you never happened to see her 
 there? 
 
 She was perfectly sensible that he never had, 
 but she wished to see whether he would betray 
 any consciousness of what had passed between the 
 Bingleys and Jane ; and she thought he looked a 
 little confused as he answered that he had never 
 been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The 
 subject was pursued no further, and the gentlemen 
 soon afterwards went away. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much 
 admired at the Parsonage, and the ladies all 
 felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure 
 of their engagements at Kosings. It was some 
 days, however, before they received any invitation 
 thither, for while there were visitors in the house 
 they could not be necessary; and it was not till 
 Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen's 
 arrival, that they were honored by such an atten- 
 tion, and then they were merely asked on leaving 
 church to come there in the evening. Eor the 
 last week they had seen very little of either Lady 
 Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam 
 had called at the Parsonage more than once dur- 
 ing the time, but Mr. Darcy they had only seen 
 at church. 
 
 The invitation was accepted, of course, and at 
 a proper hour they joined the party in Lady 
 Catherine's drawing-room. Her Ladyship received 
 them civilly, but it was plain that their company 
 was by no means so acceptable as when she could 
 get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost en- 
 grossed by her nephews, speaking to them, espe- 
 
254 PRIDE AIsD PREJUDICE. 
 
 cially to Darcy, much more than to any other 
 person in the room. 
 
 Colonel Eitzwilliam seemed really glad to see 
 them: anything was a welcome relief to him at 
 E-osings; and Mrs. Collins's pretty friend had, 
 moreover, caught his fancy very much. He now 
 seated himself hy her, and talked so agreeably of 
 Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying 
 at home, of new hooks and music, that Elizabeth 
 had never been half so well entertained in that 
 room before; and they conversed with so much 
 spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Lady 
 Catherine herself, as well as of Mr. Darcy. His 
 eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards 
 them with a look of curiosity; and that her Lady- 
 ship after a while shared the feeling, was more 
 openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to 
 call 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. 
 
 *^0f 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 learned, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 255 
 
 I should have been a great proficient. And so 
 would Anne, if her health had allowed her to 
 apply. I am confident that she would have per- 
 formed delightfully. How does Georgiana get 
 on, Darcy? 
 
 Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his 
 sister's proficiency. 
 
 ^^I am very glad to hear such a good account of 
 her,'' said Lady Catherine; ^'and pray tell her 
 from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she 
 does not practise a great deal." 
 
 assure you, madam," he replied, ^Hhat she 
 does not need such advice. She practises very 
 constantly." 
 
 *'So much the better. It cannot be done too 
 much; and when I next write to her, I shall 
 charge her not to neglect it on any account. I 
 often tell young ladies that no excellence in music 
 is to be acquired without constant practice. I 
 have told Miss Bennet several times that she will 
 never play really well unless she practises more; 
 and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is 
 very welcome, as I have often told her, to come 
 to Kosings every day, and play on the pianoforte 
 in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in 
 nobody's way, you know, in that part of the 
 house." 
 
 Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's 
 ill-breeding, and made no answer. 
 
256 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam re- 
 minded Elizabeth of having promised to play to 
 him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. 
 He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine lis- 
 tened to half a song, and then talked as before to 
 her other nephew; till the latter walked away 
 from her, and moving with his usual deliberation 
 towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to 
 command a full view of the fair performer's coun- 
 tenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and 
 at the first convenient pause turned to him with 
 an arch smile, and said, — 
 
 You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by com- 
 ing in all this state to hear me. But I will not 
 be alarmed, though your sister does play so well. 
 There is a stubbornness about me that never can 
 bear to be frightened at the will of others. My 
 courage always rises with every attempt to intimi- 
 date me.'' 
 
 ^'1 shall not say that you are mistaken,'' he 
 replied, because you could not really believe me 
 to entertain any design of alarming you; and I 
 have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long 
 enough to know that you find great enjoyment in 
 occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, are 
 not your own." 
 
 Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of 
 herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam: ^^Your 
 cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 257 
 
 and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am 
 particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so 
 well able to expose my real character, in a part of 
 the world where I had hoped to pass myself off 
 with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, 
 it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that 
 you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire, — 
 and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too, — for 
 it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things 
 may come out as will shock your relations to 
 hear.'' 
 
 '^I am not afraid of you,'' said he, smilingly. 
 Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him 
 of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. ^'1 should like 
 to know how he behaves among strangers." 
 
 ^'You shall hear, then — but prepare for some- 
 thing very dreadful. The first time of my ever 
 seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was 
 at a ball, — and at this ball what do you think 
 he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry 
 to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four 
 dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my 
 certain knowledge, more than one young lady was 
 sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, 
 you cannot deny the fact." 
 
 ^'I had not at that time the honor of know- 
 ing any lady in the assembly beyond my own 
 party. " 
 
 *^True; and nobody can ever be introduced ip 
 
 VOL. I. — 17 
 
258 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do 
 I play next? My fingers wait your orders.'' 
 
 Perhaps," said Darcy, ^'I should have judged 
 better had I sought an introduction, but I am ill- 
 qualified to recommend myself to strangers." 
 
 Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?'' 
 said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitz- 
 william. Shall we ask him why a man of sense 
 and education, and who has lived in the world, is 
 ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?" 
 
 I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, 
 without applying to him. It is because he will 
 not give himself the trouble." 
 
 ^^I certainly have not the talent which some 
 people possess," said Darcy, of conversing easily 
 with those I have never seen before. I cannot 
 catch their tone of conversation, or appear inter- 
 ested in their concerns, as I often see done." 
 
 My fingers," said Elizabeth, do not move over 
 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 ex- 
 pression. But then I have always supposed it to 
 be my own fault, — because I would not take the 
 trouble of practising. It is not that I do not 
 believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's 
 of superior execution." 
 
 Darcy smiled and said: ^^You are perfectly 
 right. You have employed youv time much better. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 259 
 
 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 Lady Catherine, 
 who called out to know what they were talking 
 of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. 
 Lady Catherine approached, and after listening 
 for a few minutes, said to Darcy, — 
 
 ^^Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if 
 she 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 delightful per- 
 former, had her health allowed her to learn." 
 
 Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially 
 he assented to his cousin's praise ; but neither at 
 that moment nor at any other could she discern 
 any symptom of love; and from the whole of his 
 behavior to Miss de Bourgh she derived this com- 
 fort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been 
 just as likely to marry her, had she been his 
 relation. 
 
 Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Eliza- 
 beth's performance, mixing with them many in- 
 structions on execution and taste. Elizabeth 
 received them with all the forbearance of civility; 
 and at the request of the gentlemen remained at 
 the instrument till her Ladyship's carriage was 
 ready to take them all home. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morn- 
 ing, and writing to Jane, while Mrs. Collins and 
 Maria were gone on business into the village, when 
 she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain 
 signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, 
 she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine ; 
 and under that apprehension was putting away 
 her half-finished letter, that she might escape all 
 impertinent questions, when the door opened, and 
 to her very great surprise Mr. Darcy, and Mr. 
 Darcy only, entered the room. 
 
 He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, 
 and apologized for his intrusion by letting her 
 know that he had understood all the ladies to be 
 within. 
 
 They then sat down, and when her inquiries 
 after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of 
 sinking into total silence. It was absolutely 
 necessary, therefore, to think of something; and 
 in this emergency recollecting when she had seen 
 him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to 
 know what he would say on the subject of their 
 hasty departure, she observed, — 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 261 
 
 **How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield 
 last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a 
 most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you 
 all after him so soonj for if I recollect right, he 
 went but the day before. He and his sisters were 
 well, I hope, when you left London? 
 Perfectly so, I thank you.^' 
 
 She found that she was to receive no other an- 
 swer; and after a short pause, added, — 
 
 think I have understood that Mr. Bingley 
 has not much idea of ever returning to ISTetherfield 
 again?" 
 
 have never heard him say so; but it is 
 probable that he may spend very little of his time 
 there in future. He has many friends, and he is 
 at a time of life when friends and engagements are 
 continually increasing." 
 
 *^If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it 
 would be better for the neighborhood that he 
 should give up the place entirely, for then we 
 might possibly get a settled family there. But, 
 perhaps, Mr. Bingley did not take the house so 
 much for the convenience of the neighborhood as 
 for his own, and we must expect him to keep or 
 quit it on the same principle." 
 
 should not be surprised," said Darcy, if 
 he were to give it up as soon as any eligible pur- 
 chase offers." 
 
 Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of 
 
262 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 talking longer of his friend; and having nothing 
 else to say, was now determined to leave the 
 trouble of finding 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 deal to it when Mr. Collins 
 first came to Hunsford." 
 
 ^'1 believe she did, — and I am sure she could 
 not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful 
 object. 
 
 ^^Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his 
 choice of a wife." 
 
 ^^Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in 
 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 cer- 
 tain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as 
 the wisest thing she ever did. She seems per- 
 fectly happy, however; and in a prudential light 
 it is certainly a very good match for her." 
 
 ^^It must be very agreeable to her to be settled 
 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." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 263 
 
 ^^I sliould never have considered the distance as 
 one of the advantages of the match/' cried Eliza- 
 beth. ^^I should never have said Mrs. Collins 
 was settled near her family. 
 
 *^It is a proof of your own attachment to Hert- 
 fordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbor- 
 hood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear 
 far.'' 
 
 As he spoke, there was a sort of smile, which 
 Elizabeth fancied she understood ; he must be sup- 
 posing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield, 
 and she blushed as she answered, — 
 
 ^^I do not mean to say that a woman may not be 
 settled too near her family. The far and the near 
 must be relative, and depend on many varying 
 circumstances. Where there is fortune to make 
 the expense of travelling unimportant, distance 
 becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, 
 but not such a one as will allow of frequent jour- 
 neys; and I am persuaded my friend would not 
 call herself near her family under less than half 
 the present distance." 
 
 Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, 
 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 ex- 
 perienced some change of feeling j he drew back 
 
264 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and 
 glancing over it, said in a colder voice, — 
 
 ^^Are you pleased with Kent?'^ 
 
 A short dialogue on the subject of the countrj^ 
 ensued, on either side calm and concise, and 
 soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte 
 and her sister, just returned from their 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?'' said 
 Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. ^'My dear 
 Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would 
 never have called on us in this familiar way." 
 
 But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did 
 not seem very likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, 
 to be the case; and after 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 be always within doors; and in 
 the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness 
 of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, 
 the two cousins found a temptation from this 
 period of walking thither almost every day. They 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 265 
 
 called at various times of the morning, sometimes 
 separately, sometimes together, and now and then 
 accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to them 
 all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had 
 pleasure in their society, — a persuasion which 
 of course recommended him still more ; and Eliza- 
 beth was reminded by her own satisfaction in 
 being with him, as well as by his evident admi- 
 ration, of her former favorite, George Wickham; 
 and though in comparing them she saw there was 
 less captivating softness in Colonel Eitzwilliam's 
 manners, she believed he might have the best 
 informed mind. 
 
 But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Par- 
 sonage it was more difficult to understand. It 
 could not be for society, as he frequently sat there 
 ten minutes together without opening his lips; 
 and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of 
 necessity rather than of choice, — a sacrifice to 
 propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom 
 appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins knew not 
 what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occa- 
 sionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was 
 generally different, which her own knowledge of 
 him could not have told her; and as she would 
 have liked to believe this change the effect of love, 
 and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she 
 set herself seriously to work to find it out: she 
 watched him whenever they were at Rosings and 
 
266 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 whenever he came to Hunsford, but without much 
 success. He certainly looked at her friend a great 
 deal, but the expression of that look was dis- 
 putable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze; but 
 she often doubted whether there were much admi- 
 ration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but 
 absence of mind. 
 
 She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth 
 the possibility of his being partial to her, but Eliz- 
 abeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. Col- 
 lins did not think it right to press the subject, 
 from the danger of raising expectations which 
 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 her power. 
 
 In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she some- 
 times planned her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. 
 He was, beyond comparison, the pleasantest man : 
 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 
 at all. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 
 More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble 
 within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. 
 She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that 
 «hould bring him where no one else was brought ; 
 And, to prevent its ever happening again, took 
 oare to inform him, at first, that it was a favorite 
 haunt of 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 a volun- 
 tary penance; for on these occasions it was not 
 merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward 
 pause and then away, but he actually thought it 
 necessary to turn back and walk with her. He 
 never said a great deal, nor did she give herself 
 the trouble of talking or of listening much ; but it 
 struck her in the course of their third rencounter 
 that he was asking some odd unconnected ques- 
 tions, — about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, 
 her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Collinses happiness; and that in speak- 
 ing of Rosings, and her not perfectly understand- 
 ing the house, he seemed to expect that whenever 
 she came into Kent again, she would be staying 
 
268 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could 
 he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? 
 She supposed, if he meant anything, he must 
 mean an allusion to what might arise in that quar- 
 ter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite 
 glad to find herself at the gate in the pales 
 opposite the Parsonage. 
 
 She was engaged one day, as she walked, in re- 
 perusing Jane's last letter, and dwelling on some 
 passages which proved that Jane had not written 
 in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised 
 by Mr. Darc}^, she saw, on looking up, that 
 Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting 
 away the letter immediately, and forcing a smile, 
 she said, — 
 
 ^^I did not know before that you ever walked 
 this way." 
 
 ^^I have been making the tour of the park," he 
 replied, ^^as I generally do every year, and in- 
 tended to close it with a call at the Parsonage. 
 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 busi- 
 ness just as he pleases.'' 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 269 
 
 '^And if not able to please himself in the ar- 
 rangement, he has at least great pleasure in the 
 power of choice. I do not know anybody who 
 seems more to enjoy 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 is rich, and many 
 others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger 
 son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and 
 dependence.'' 
 
 ^^In my opinion, the younger son of an earl 
 can know very little of either. Now, seriously, 
 what have you ever known of self-denial and de- 
 pendence? When have you been prevented by 
 want of money from going wherever you chose, or 
 procuring anything you had a fancy for?" 
 
 These are home questions, — and perhaps I 
 cannot say that I have experienced many hardships 
 of that nature. But in matters of greater weight 
 I may suffer from the want of money. Younger 
 sons cannot marry where they like.'' 
 
 Unless where they like women of fortune, 
 which I think the}^ very often do." 
 
 ^'Our habits of expense make us too dependent, 
 and there are not many in my rank of life who 
 can afford to marry without some attention to 
 money." 
 
270 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 <^ Is this/' thought Elizabeth, meant for me? 
 and she colored at the idea; but recovering her- 
 self, 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, I suppose 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 him fancy her affected with what 
 had passed, she soon afterwards said, — 
 
 "I imagine your cousin brought you down with 
 him chiefly for the sake of having somebody at 
 his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to 
 secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, 
 perhaps, his sister does as well for the present; 
 and as she is under his sole care, he may do what 
 he likes with her." 
 
 "Ko," said Colonel Titzwilliam, "that is an 
 advantage which he must divide with me. I am 
 joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy." 
 
 "Are you, indeed? And pray, what sort of a 
 guardian 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 
 has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have 
 her own way." 
 
 As she spoke, she observed him looking at her 
 earnestly; and the manner in which he immedi- 
 ately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 271 
 
 likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her 
 that she had somehow or other got pretty near the 
 truth. She directly replied, — 
 
 ^^You need not be frightened. I never heard 
 any harm of her; and I dare say she is one of 
 the most tractable creatures in the world. She 
 is a very great favorite with some ladies of my 
 acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I 
 think I have heard you say that you know them." 
 
 know them a little. Their brother is a 
 pleasant, gentlemanlike man, — he is a great friend 
 of Darcy's." 
 
 ^^Oh, yes,'' said Elizabeth, dryly; *'Mr. Darcy 
 is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a 
 prodigious deal of care of him." 
 
 *'Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy 
 does take care of him in those points where he 
 most wants care. From something that he told 
 me in our journey hither, I have reason to think 
 Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought 
 to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose 
 that Bingley was the person meant. It was all 
 conjecture." 
 
 ^*What is it you mean?" 
 
 ^^It is a circumstance which Darcy of course 
 could not wish to be generally known, because if 
 it were to get round to the lady's family, it would 
 be an unpleasant thing." 
 
 You may depend upon my not mentioning it." 
 
272 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^^And remember that I have not much reason 
 for supposing it to be Bingley. What he told me 
 was merely this: that he congratulated himself 
 on having lately saved a friend from the incon- 
 veniences of a most imprudent marriage, but with- 
 out mentioning names or any other particulars; 
 and I only suspected it to be Bingley, from be- 
 lieving him the kind of young man to get into 
 a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to 
 have been together the whole of last summer.'' 
 
 ^^Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this 
 interference? '' 
 
 '^I understood that there were some very strong 
 objections against the lady?'' 
 
 And what arts did he use to separate them? " 
 ^^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, Fitzwilliam asked her why she was 
 so thoughtful. 
 
 ^^I am thinking of what you have been telling 
 me," said she. Your cousin's conduct does not 
 suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge? " 
 
 *^You are rather disposed to call his interfer- 
 ence officious? " 
 
 I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to de- 
 cide on the propriety of his friend's inclination j 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 273 
 
 or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was to 
 determine and direct in what manner that friend 
 was to be happy. But,'' she continued, recollect- 
 ing herself, ^^as we know none of the particulars, 
 it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be sup- 
 posed that there was much affection in the case." 
 
 <^That is not an unnatural surmise," said Fitz- 
 william; *'but it is lessening the honor of my 
 cousin's triumph very sadly." 
 
 This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to 
 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 in- 
 different matters till they reached the Parsonage. 
 There, shut into her own room, as soon as their 
 visitor left them, she could think without inter- 
 ruption of all that she had heard. It was not to 
 be supposed that any other people could be meant 
 than those with whom she was connected. There 
 could not exist in the world two men over whom 
 Mr. Darcy could have such boundless influence. 
 That he had been concerned in the measures taken 
 to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never 
 doubted J but she had always attributed to Miss 
 Bingley the principal design and arrangement 
 of them. If his own vanity, however, did not 
 mislead him, he was the cause — his pride and 
 caprice were the cause — of all that Jane had 
 suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had 
 
 VOL. I. — 18 
 
274 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the 
 most affectionate, generous heart in the world j 
 and no one could say how lasting an evil he might 
 have inflicted. 
 
 There were some very strong objections against 
 the lady," were Colonel Eitzwilliam's words; and 
 these strong objections probably were, her hav- 
 ing one uncle who was a country attorney, and 
 another who was in business in London. 
 
 ^^To Jane herself," she exclaimed, ^' there 
 could be no possibility of objection, — all loveli- 
 ness and goodness as she is! Her understanding 
 excellent, her mind improved, and her manners 
 captivating. Neither could anything be urged 
 against my father, who, though with some pecu- 
 liarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself 
 need not disdain, and respectability which he will 
 probably never reach." When she thought of her 
 mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little^ 
 but she would not allow that any objections there 
 had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose pride, 
 she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound 
 from the want of importance in his friend's con- 
 nections 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 his 
 sister. 
 
 The agitation and tears which the subject occa- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 275 
 
 sioned brought on a headache; and it grew so 
 much worse towards evening that, added to her 
 unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined 
 her not to attend her cousins to Kosings, where 
 they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, 
 seeing that she was really unwell, did not press 
 her to go, and as much as possible prevented her 
 husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins could 
 not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine's 
 being rather displeased by her staying at home. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE 
 
 PART SECOND 
 
PRIDE AND PKEJUDICE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HEN they were gone, Elizabeth, as if 
 intending to exasperate herself as much 
 as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose 
 for her employment the examination of 
 all the letters which Jane had written to her since 
 her being in Kent. They contained no actual 
 complaint, nor was there any revival of past occur- 
 rences, or any communication of present suffering. 
 But in all, and in almost every line of each, there 
 was a want of that cheerfulness which had been 
 used to characterize her style, and which, proceed- 
 ing from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, 
 and kindly disposed towards every one, had been 
 scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth noticed every 
 sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an 
 attention which it had hardly received on the first 
 perusal. Mr. Darcy's shameful boast of what 
 
6 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 misery he had been able to inflict gave her a 
 keener sense of her sister's sufferings. It was 
 some consolation to think that his visit to Rosings 
 was to end on the day after the next, and a still 
 greater that in less than a fortnight she should 
 herself be with Jane again, and enabled to con- 
 tribute to the recovery of her spirits, by all that 
 affection could do. 
 
 She could not think of Darcy's leaving Kent 
 without remembering that his cousin was to go 
 with him; but Colonel Pitzwilliam had made it 
 clear that he had no intentions at all, and, agree- 
 able as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy 
 about him. 
 
 While settling this point, she was suddenly 
 roused by the sound of the door-bell; and her 
 spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its 
 being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once 
 before called late in the evening, and might now 
 come to inquire particularly after her. But this 
 idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very 
 differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, 
 she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In a hur- 
 ried manner he immediately began an inquiry after 
 her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing 
 that she were better. She answered him with cold 
 civility. He sat down for a few moments, and 
 then getting up walked about the room. Eliza- 
 beth was surprised, but said not a word. After a 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 7 
 
 silence of several minutes, lie came towards her in 
 an agitated manner, and thus began : — 
 
 ^'In vain have I 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, colored, doubted, and was silent. 
 This he considered sufficient encouragement, and 
 the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for 
 her immediately followed. He spoke well; but 
 there were feelings besides those of the heart to 
 be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the 
 subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of 
 her inferiority, of its being a degradation, of the 
 family obstacles which judgment had always op- 
 posed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth 
 which seemed due to the consequence he was 
 wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend 
 his suit. 
 
 In spite of her deeply rooted dislike, she could 
 not be insensible to the compliment of such a 
 man's affection; and though her intentions did not 
 vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the 
 pain he was to receive, till, roused to resentment 
 by his subsequent language, she lost all compas- 
 sion in anger. She tried, however, to compose 
 herself to answer him with patience, when he 
 should have done. He concluded with represent- 
 
8 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ing to her the strength of that attachment which 
 in spite of all his endeavors he had found impos- 
 sihle to conquer, and with expressing his hope 
 that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance 
 of his hand. As he said this, she could easily see 
 that he had no doubt of a favorable answer. He 
 spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his counte- 
 nance expressed real security. Such a circum- 
 stance could only exasperate further ; and when he 
 ceased, the color 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 be felt; and if I could feel gratitude, I 
 would now thank you. But I cannot, — I have 
 never desired your good opinion, and you have 
 certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am 
 sorry to have occasioned pain to any one. It has 
 been most unconsciously done, however, and I 
 hope will be of short duration. The feelings which 
 you tell me have long prevented the acknowledg- 
 ment of your regard can have little difficulty in 
 overcoming it after this explanation." 
 
 Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantel- 
 piece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to 
 catch her words with no less resentment than sur- 
 prise. His complexion became pale with anger, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 9 
 
 and the disturbance of his mind was visible in 
 every feature. He was struggling for the appear- 
 ance of composure, and would not open his lips 
 till he believed himself to have attained it. The 
 
 length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said, — 
 
 ^^And this is all the reply which I am to have 
 the honor of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish 
 to be informed why, with so little endeavor at 
 civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small 
 importance. 
 
 ^^I might as well inquire,'' replied she, ^^why, 
 with so evident a design of offending and inciting 
 
 me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against 
 your will, against your reason, and even against 
 your character? Was not this some excuse for in- 
 civility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provo- 
 cations. You know I have. Had not my own 
 feelings decided against you, had they been indif- 
 ferent, or had they even been favorable, do you 
 think that any consideration would tempt me to 
 accept the man who has been the means of ruining, 
 perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved 
 sister?'' 
 
 As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy 
 changed color; but the emotion was short, and he 
 listened without attempting to interrupt her while 
 she continued, — 
 
 have every reason in the world to think iU 
 
 pause was to Elizabeth'i 
 
 s feelings dreadful. At 
 
10 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and un- 
 generous part you acted there. You dare not, 
 you cannot deny that you have been the principal, 
 if not the only means of dividing them from each 
 other, — of exposing one to the censure of the world 
 for caprice and instability, the other to its derision 
 for disappointed hopes, and involving them both 
 in misery of the acutest kind.'^ 
 
 She paused, and saw with no slight indignation 
 that he was listening with an air which proved 
 him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. 
 He even looked at her with a smile of affected 
 incredulity. 
 
 *'Can you deny that you have done it?'' she 
 repeated. 
 
 With assumed tranquillity he then replied: 
 have no wish of denying that I did everything in 
 my power to separate my friend from your sister, 
 or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I 
 have been kinder than towards myself.'' 
 
 Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing 
 this civil reflection; but its meaning did not es- 
 cape, nor was it likely to conciliate her. 
 
 *'But it is not merely this affair," she con- 
 tinued, on which my dislike is founded. Long 
 before it had taken place, my opinion of you was 
 decided. Your character was unfolded in the re- 
 cital which I received many months ago from Mr. 
 Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 11 
 
 say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you 
 here defend yourself, or under what misrepresen- 
 tation can you here impose upon others? 
 
 " You take an eager interest in that gentleman's 
 concerns,'' said Darcy, in a less tranquil tone and 
 with a heightened color. 
 
 ^'Who that knows what his misfortunes have 
 heen can help feeling an interest in him?" 
 
 His misfortunes! " repeated Darcy, contempt- 
 uously, — *'yes, his misfortunes have heen great 
 indeed." 
 
 And of your infliction," cried Elizabeth, with 
 energy. ^^You have reduced him to his present 
 state of poverty, — comparative poverty. You have 
 withheld the advantages which you must know to 
 have been designed for him. You have deprived 
 the best years of his life of that independence 
 which was no less his due than his desert. You 
 have done all this ; and yet you can treat the mention 
 of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule." 
 
 ^'And this," cried Darcy, as he walked with 
 quick 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 in- 
 deed! But, perhaps," added he, stopping in his 
 walk, and turning towards her, ^Hhese offences 
 might have been overlooked, had not your pride 
 been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples 
 
12 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 that had long prevented my forming any serious 
 design. These bitter accusations might have been 
 suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed 
 my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of 
 my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed incli- 
 nation; by reason, by reflection, by everything. 
 But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor 
 am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They 
 were natural and just. Could you expect me to re- 
 joice in the inferiority of your connections, — to 
 congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose 
 condition in life is so decidedly beneath my 
 own? 
 
 Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every 
 moment; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with 
 composure when she said, — 
 
 '*You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose 
 that the mode of your declaration affected me in 
 any other way than as it spared me the concern 
 which I might have felt in refusing you, had you 
 behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.'' 
 
 She saw him start at this ; but he said nothing, 
 and she continued, — 
 
 You could not have made me the offer of your 
 hand in any possible way that would have tempted 
 me to accept it." 
 
 Again his astonishment was obvious; and he 
 looked at her with an expression of mingled in 
 credulity and mortification. She went on, — 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 13 
 
 '^From the very beginning, from the first mo- 
 ment, 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 that groundwork of disapprobation 
 on which succeeding events have built so immova- 
 ble a dislike; and I had not known you a month 
 before I felt that you were the last man in the 
 world whom I could ever be prevailed on to 
 marry.'' 
 
 You have said quite enough, madam. I per- 
 fectly comprehend your feelings, and have now 
 only to be ashamed of what my own have been. 
 Forgive me for having taken up so much of your 
 time, and accept my best wishes for your health 
 and happiness." 
 
 And with these words he hastily left the room, 
 and Elizabeth heard him the next moment open 
 the front door and quit the house. The tumult of 
 her mind was now painfully great. She knew not 
 how to support herself, and, from actual weakness, 
 sat down and cried for half an hour. Her aston- 
 ishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was 
 increased by every review of it. That she should 
 receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcyj that 
 he should have been in love with her for so many 
 months, — so much in love as to wish to marry her 
 in spite of all the objections which had made him 
 
14 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 prevent his friend's marrj^ing her sister, and which 
 must appear at least with equal force in his own 
 case, — was almost incredible ! It was gratifying to 
 have inspired unconsciously so strong an affection. 
 But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless 
 avowal of what he had done with respect to Jane, 
 his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, 
 though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling 
 manner in which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, 
 his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to 
 deny, soon overcame the pity which the considera- 
 tion of his attachment had for a moment excited. 
 
 She continued in very agitating reflections till 
 the sound of Lady Catherine's carriage made her 
 feel how unequal she was to encounter Charlotte's 
 observation, and hurried her away to her room. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same 
 thoughts and meditations which had at length 
 closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from 
 the surprise of what had happened: it was im- 
 possible to think of anything else; and, totally 
 indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after 
 breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. 
 She was proceeding directly to her favorite walk, 
 when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes 
 coming there stopped her, and instead of entering 
 the park, she turned up the lane which led her 
 farther from the turnpike road. The park paling 
 was still the boundary on one side, and she soon 
 passed one of the gates into the ground. 
 
 After walking two or three times along that 
 part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasant, 
 ness of the morning, to stop at the gates and look 
 into the park. The five weeks which she had now 
 passed in Kent had made a great difference in the 
 country, and every day was adding to the verdure 
 of the early trees. She was on the point of con- 
 tinuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse of a 
 gentleraau within the sort of grove which edged 
 
16 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 the park: he was moving that way; aud fearful 
 of its being Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreat- 
 ing. But the person Who advanced was now near 
 enough to see her, and stepping forward with 
 eagerness, pronounced her name. She had turned 
 away; but on hearing herself called, though in a 
 voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved 
 again towards the gate. He had by that time 
 reached it also; and holding out a letter, which 
 she instinctively took, said with a look of haughty 
 composure: have been walking in the grove 
 some time, in the hope of meeting you. Will you 
 do me the honor of reading that letter? and then, 
 with a slight bow, turned again into the planta- 
 tion, and was soon out of sight. 
 
 With no expectation of pleasure, but with the 
 strongest curiosity, Elizabeth opened the letter, 
 and to her still increasing wonder, perceived an 
 envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, 
 written quite through, 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'clock in the morn- 
 ing, and was as follows : — 
 
 Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by 
 the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those 
 sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last 
 night so disgusting to you. I write without any inten- 
 tion of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 17 
 
 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 have been 
 spared, had not my character required it to be written 
 and read. You must therefore pardon the freedom 
 with which I demand your attention ; your feelings, I 
 know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your 
 justice. 
 
 Two offences of a very different nature, and by no 
 means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my 
 charge. The first mentioned was that, regardless of the 
 sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley from 
 your sister ; and the other, that I had, in defiance of 
 various claims, in defiance of honor and humanity, ruined 
 the immediate prosperity and blasted the prospects of 
 Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and wantonly to have thrown 
 off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged fa- 
 vorite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any 
 other dependence than on our patronage, and who had 
 been brought up to expect its exertion, would be a de- 
 pravity to which the separation of two young persons 
 whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks 
 could bear no comparison. But from the severity of that 
 blame which was last night so liberally bestowed, respect- 
 ing each circumstance, I shall hope to be in future se- 
 cured, when the following account of my actions and 
 their motives has been read. If in the explanation of 
 them which is due to myself I am under the necessity of 
 relating feelings which may be offensive to yours, I can 
 only say that I am sorry. The necessity must be obeyed, 
 and further apology would be absurd. 
 
 I had not been long in Hertfordshire before I saw, in 
 common with others, that Bingley preferred your elder 
 Bister to any other young woman in the country. But it 
 was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield 
 
 VOL. II. — 2 
 
18 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious at- 
 tachment. I had often seen him in love before. At that 
 ball, while I had the honor of dancing with you, I was 
 first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental 
 information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had 
 given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. 
 He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone 
 could be undecided. From that moment I observed my 
 friend's behavior attentively ; and I could then perceive 
 that his partiality for Miss Bennet 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 remained convinced, from the evening's scrutiny, 
 that though she received his attentions with pleasure, 
 she did not invite them by any participation of senti- 
 ment. If you have not been mistaken here, I must 
 have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of 
 your sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, 
 if I have been misled by such error to inflict pain on 
 her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But 
 I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your 
 sister's countenance and air was such as might have given 
 the most acute observer a conviction that, however amia- 
 ble her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily 
 touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent 
 is certain ; but I will venture to say that my investiga- 
 tions and decisions are not usually influenced by my 
 hopes or fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent 
 because I wished it ; I believed it on impartial convic- 
 tion, as truly as I wished it in reason. 
 
 My objections to the marriage were not merely those 
 which I last night acknowledged to have required the 
 utmost force of passion to put aside in my own case ; the 
 •want of connection could not be so great an evil to my 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 19 
 
 friend as to me. But there were other causes of repug- 
 nance, — causes which, though still existing, and existing 
 to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself en- 
 deavored to forget, because they were not immediately 
 before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. 
 The situation of your mother's family, though objectiona- 
 ble, was nothing in comparison of that total want of pro- 
 priety so 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 of your near- 
 est 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 is praise no less generally bestowed on you and 
 your eldest sister than it is honorable to the sense and dis- 
 position of both. I will only say, further, that from what 
 passed that evening my opinion of all parties was con- 
 firmed, and every inducement heightened, which could 
 have led me before to preserve my iriend from what I 
 esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left Nether- 
 field for London on the day following, as you, I am cer- 
 tain, remember, with the design of soon returning. 
 
 The part which I acted is now to be explained. His 
 sisters' uneasiness had been equally excited with my own : 
 our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered ; and, alike 
 sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their 
 brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in 
 London. We accordingly went ; and there I readily 
 engaged 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 
 have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not 
 suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the mar- 
 riage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which 
 
20 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 I hesitated not in giving:, of your sister's indifference. He 
 had before believed her to return his affection with sin- 
 cere, if not with equal regard. But Bingley has great 
 natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my 
 judgment than on his own. To convince him, therefore, 
 that he had deceived himself was no very difficult point. 
 To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, 
 when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the 
 work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for having 
 done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct, 
 in the whole affair, on which I do not reflect with satis- 
 faction ; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures 
 of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in 
 town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bing- 
 ley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That 
 they might have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, 
 probable ; but his regard did not appear to me enough 
 extinguished for him to see her without some danger. 
 Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath 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 gov- 
 erned me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, 
 I have not yet learned to condemn them. 
 
 With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, 
 of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by 
 laying before you the whole of his connection with my 
 family. Of what he has particularly accused me I am 
 ignorant ; but of the truth of what I shall relate I can 
 summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. 
 Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable 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 ; 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 21 
 
 and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kind- 
 ness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father sup- 
 ported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge ; most 
 important assistance, as his own father, always poor from 
 the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to 
 give him a gentleman's education. My father was not 
 only fond of this young man's society, whose manners 
 were always engaging, he had also the highest opinion of 
 him, and hoping the church would be his profession, in- 
 tended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is 
 many, many years since 1 first began to think of him in 
 a very different manner. The vicious propensities, the 
 want of principle, 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 in 
 unguarded 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 which 
 Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature 
 shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. 
 It adds even another motive. My excellent father died 
 about five years ago ; and his attachment to Mr. Wick- 
 ham was to the last so steady that in his will he particu- 
 larly recommended it to me to promote his advancement 
 in the best manner that his profession might allow, and 
 if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living 
 might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was 
 also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father 
 did not long survive mine ; and within half a year from 
 these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, hav- 
 ing finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I 
 should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some 
 more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the pre- 
 ferment, by which he could not be benefited. He had 
 
22 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must 
 be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would 
 be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished 
 than believed him to be sincere ; but, at any rate, was 
 perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that 
 Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The busi- 
 ness was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim 
 to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could 
 ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in re- 
 turn three thousand pounds. All connection between us 
 seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite 
 him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, 
 I believe, he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a 
 mere pretence ; and being now free from all restraint, his 
 life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about 
 three years I heard little of him ; 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 presenta- 
 tion. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no 
 difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had 
 found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now 
 absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present 
 him to the living in question, — of which he trusted there 
 could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had 
 no other person to provide for, and I could not have for- 
 gotten my revered father's intentions. You will hardly 
 blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or 
 for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was 
 in proportion to the distress of his circumstances, — and 
 he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others 
 as in his reproaches to myself. After this period every 
 appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived, 
 I know not. But last summer he was again most pain- 
 fully obtruded on my notice. 
 
 I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 23 
 
 to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the 
 present should induce me to unfold to any human being. 
 Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. 
 My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left 
 to the guardianship of my mother's nephew, Colonel Fitz- 
 william, and myself. About a year ago, she was taken 
 from school, and an establishment formed for her in Lon- 
 don ; and last summer she went with the lady who pre- 
 sided over it to Ramsgate ; and thither also went Mr. 
 Wickham, undoubtedly by design ; for there proved to 
 have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. 
 Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily de- 
 ceived ; and by her connivance and aid he so far recom- 
 mended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart 
 retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a 
 child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love 
 and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fif- 
 teen, which must be her excuse ; and after stating her 
 imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowl- 
 edge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day 
 or two before the intended elopement ; and then Georgi- 
 ana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending 
 a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, ac- 
 knowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I 
 felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister's credit and 
 feelings prevented any public exposure; but I wrote to 
 Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. 
 Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. 
 Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's 
 fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds ; but I cannot 
 help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me 
 was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been 
 complete indeed. 
 
 This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in 
 which we have been concerned together ; and if you do 
 
24 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit 
 me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. 1 know 
 not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he 
 has imposed on you ; but his success is not perhaps to be 
 wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of every- 
 thing concerning either. Detection could not be in your 
 power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination. 
 You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you 
 last night. But I was not then master enough of myself 
 to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the 
 truth of everything here related, I can appeal more par- 
 ticularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, 
 from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and 
 still more as one of the executors of my father's will, has 
 been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of 
 these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should 
 make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented 
 by the same cause from confiding in my cousin ; and that 
 there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall en- 
 deavor to find some opportunity of putting this letter in 
 your hands in the course of the morning. I will only 
 addj God bless you. 
 
 Fitzwilliam Darcy. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 If Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, 
 did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, 
 she had formed no expectation at all of its con- 
 tents. But such as they were, it may be well sup- 
 posed how eagerly she went through them, and 
 what a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her 
 feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. 
 With amazement did she first understand that 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 not conceal. With a strong prejudice 
 against everything he might say, she began his 
 account of what had happened at Netherfield. She 
 read with an eagerness which hardly left her power 
 of comprehension; and from impatience of know- 
 ing what the next sentence might bring, was in- 
 capable of attending to the sense of the one before 
 her eyes. His belief of her sister's insensibility 
 she instantly resolved to be false ; and his account 
 of the real, the worst objections to the match 
 made her too angry to have any wish of doing him 
 justice. He expressed no regret for what he had 
 
26 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 done which satisfied her; his style was not peni- 
 tent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence. 
 
 But when this subject was succeeded by his 
 account of Mr. Wickham, — when she read, with 
 somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events 
 which, if true, must overthrow every cherished 
 opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming 
 an affinity to his own history of himself, — her 
 feelings were yet more acutely painful and more 
 difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehen- 
 sion, and even horror oppressed her. She wished 
 to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, 
 '^This must be false! This cannot be! This 
 must be the grossest falsehood! " and when she 
 had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely 
 knowing anything of the last 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, with thoughts 
 that could rest on nothing, she walked on; but it 
 would not do : in half a minute the letter was un- 
 folded again; and collecting herself as well as she 
 could, she again began the mortifying perusal of 
 all that related to Wickham, and commanded her- 
 self so far as to examine the meaning of every 
 sentence. The account of his connection with the 
 Pemberley family was exactly what he had related 
 himself ; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, 
 though she had not before known its extent, 
 
PEIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 27 
 
 agreed equally well with his 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 was fresh in her 
 memory; and as she recalled his very words, it 
 was impossible not to feel that there was gross 
 duplicity on one side or the other, and for a few 
 moments she flattered herself that her wishes did 
 not err. But when she read and re-read, with the 
 closest attention, the particulars immediately fol- 
 lowing of AVickham's resigning all pretensions to 
 the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable 
 a sum as three thousand pounds, again was she 
 forced to hesitate. She put down the letter, 
 weighed every circumstance with what she meant 
 to be impartiality, deliberated on the probability 
 of each statement, but with little success. On 
 both sides it was only assertion. Again she read 
 on. But every line proved more clearly that the 
 affair, which she had believed it impossible that 
 any contrivance could so represent as to render 
 Mr. Darcy's conduct in it less than infamous, was 
 capable of a turn which must make him entirely 
 blameless throughout the whole. 
 
 The extravagance and general profligacy which 
 he scrupled not to lay to 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 his entrance into the shire 
 
28 
 
 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion 
 of the young man who, on meeting him accident- 
 ally in town, had there renewed a slight acquaint- 
 ance. Of his former way of life, nothing had been, 
 known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. 
 As to his real character, had information been in 
 her power, she had never felt a wish of inquiring. 
 His countenance, voice, and manner had estab- 
 lished him at once in the possession of every 
 virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of 
 goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or 
 benevolence, that might rescue him from the at- 
 tacks of Mr. Darcy ; or at least, by the predominance 
 of virtue, atone for those casual errors under which 
 she would endeavor to class what Mr. Darcy had 
 described as the idleness and vice of many years' 
 continuance. But no such recollection befriended 
 her. She could see him instantly before her, in 
 every charm of air and address ; but she could re- 
 member no more substantial good than the general 
 approbation of the neighborhood, and the regard 
 which his social powers had gained him in the 
 mess. After pausing on this point a considerable 
 while, she once more continued to read. But, 
 alas ! the story which followed, of his designs on 
 Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what 
 had passed between Colonel Fitzwilliam and her- 
 self only the morning before ; and at last she was 
 referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel 
 
PillDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 29 
 
 Fitzwilliam himself, — from whom she had previ- 
 ously received the information of his near concern 
 in all his cousin's affairs, and whose character she 
 had no reason to question. At one time she had 
 almost resolved on applying to him; but the idea 
 was checked by the awkwardness of the applica- 
 tion, and at length wholly banished by the con- 
 viction that Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded 
 such a proposal, if he had not been well assured 
 of his cousin's corroboration. 
 
 She perfectly remembered everything that had 
 passed in conversation between Wickham and her- 
 self in their first evening at Mr. Philips's. Many 
 of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. 
 She was now struck with the impropriety of such 
 communications to a stranger, and wondered it 
 had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of 
 putting himself forward as he had done, and the 
 inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. 
 She remembered that he had boasted of having no 
 fear of seeing Mr. Darcy, — that Mr. Darcy might 
 leave the country, but that he should stand his 
 ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball 
 the very next week. She remembered, also, that 
 till the Netherfield family had quitted the coun- 
 try, he had told his story to no one but herself, 
 but that after their removal it had been every- 
 where discussed; that he had then no reserves, no 
 Bcruples in sinking Mr. Darcy's character, though 
 
30 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 he had assured her that respect for the father 
 would always prevent his exposing the son. 
 
 How differently did everything now appear in 
 which he was concerned! His attentions to Miss 
 King were now the consequence of views solely 
 and hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of 
 her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his 
 wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything. 
 His behavior to herself could now have had no 
 tolerable motive : he had either been deceived with 
 regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his 
 vanity by encouraging the preference which she 
 believed she had most incautiously shown. Every 
 lingering struggle in his favor grew fainter and 
 fainter; and in further justification of Mr. Darcy, 
 she could not but allow that Mr. Bingley, when 
 questioned by Jane, had long ago asserted his 
 blamelessness in the affair; that, proud and re- 
 pulsive as were his manners, she had never, in 
 the whole course of their acquaintance, — an ac- 
 quaintance 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 spoke 
 him of irreligious or immoral habits; that among 
 his own connections he was esteemed and valued, 
 — that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a 
 brother, and that she had often heard him speak 
 so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capa- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 31 
 
 ble of some amiable feeling; that had his actions 
 been what Wickham represented them, so gross a 
 violation of everything right could hardly have 
 been concealed from the world; and that friend- 
 ship between a person capable of it and such an 
 amiable man as Mr. Bingley was incomprehensible. 
 
 She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of 
 neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think, 
 without feeling that she had been blind, partial, 
 prejudiced, absurd. 
 
 How despicably have I acted! she cried, — 
 who have prided myself on my discernment, — 
 I, who have valued myself on my abilities, who 
 have often disdained the generous candor of my 
 sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blame- 
 less distrust! 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, and offended by the 
 neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our 
 acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and 
 ignorance, and driven reason away where either 
 was concerned. 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 
 
32 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 again. Widely different was the effect of a second 
 perusal. How could she deny that credit to his 
 assertions, in one instance, which she had heen 
 ohliged to give in the other? He declared himself 
 to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister's 
 attachment; and she could not help remembering 
 what Charlotte's opinion had always been. Keither 
 could she deny the justice of his description of 
 Jane. She felt that Jane's feelings, though fer- 
 vent, were little displayed, and that there was a 
 constant complacency in her air and manner, not 
 often united with great sensibility. 
 
 When she came to that part of the letter in 
 which her family were mentioned in terms of 
 such mortifying yet merited reproach, her sense 
 of shame was severe. The justice of the charge 
 struck her too forcibly for denial ; and the circum- 
 stances to which he particularly alluded, as having 
 passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming 
 all his first disapprobation, could not have made a 
 stronger impression on his mind than on hers. 
 
 The compliment to herself and her sister was 
 not unfelt. It soothed, but it could not console 
 her for the contempt which had been thus self- 
 attracted by the rest of her family; and as she 
 considered that Jane's disappointment had, in 
 fact, been the work of her nearest relations, and 
 reflected how materially the credit of both must 
 be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 33 
 
 depressed beyond anything she had ever known 
 before. 
 
 After wandering along the lane for two hours, 
 giving way to every variety of thought, reconsider- 
 ing events, determining probabilities, and recon- 
 ciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so 
 sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollec- 
 tion of her long absence, made her at length return 
 home ; and she entered the house with the wish of 
 appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution of 
 repressing such reflections as must make her unfit 
 for conversation. 
 
 She was immediately told that the two gentle- 
 men from Kosings had each called during her 
 absence, — Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes, to 
 take leave ; but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been 
 sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her 
 return, 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 an ob- 
 ject. She could think only of her letter. 
 
 VOL. II. — 3 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The two gentlemen left E-osings tlie next morn- 
 ing; and Mr. Collins having been in waiting near 
 the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, 
 was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence 
 of their appearing in very good health, and in 
 as tolerable spirits as could be expected after 
 the melancholy scene so lately gone through at 
 E-osings. To Rosings he then hastened to console 
 Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his re- 
 turn brought back, with great satisfaction, a mes- 
 sage from her Ladyship, importing that she felt 
 herself so dull as to make her very desirous of 
 having them all to dine with her. 
 
 Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without 
 recollecting that, had she chosen it, she might by 
 this time have been presented to her as her future 
 niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of 
 what her Ladyship's indignation would have been. 
 *^What would she have said? How would she 
 have behaved? were questions with which she 
 amused herself. 
 
 Their first subject was the diminution of the 
 Rosings' party. I assure you, I feel it exceed- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 35 
 
 ingly/' said Lady Catherine. ^^I believe nobody 
 feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I 
 am particularly attached to these young 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 spirits tolerably 
 till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most 
 acutel}^, — more, I think, than last year. His at- 
 tachment to E,osings certainly increases.'' 
 
 Mr. Collins had a compliment and an allusion 
 to throw in here, which were kindly smiled on by 
 the mother and daughter. 
 
 Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that 
 Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits; and immedi- 
 ately accounting for it 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 to your 
 mother to 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 for your 
 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 here 
 only 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 so soon. 
 
36 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another 
 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 month complete, it will he in my power 
 to take one of you as far as London, for I am 
 going there early in June, for a week; and as 
 Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there 
 will be very good room for one of you — and, in- 
 deed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I 
 should not object to taking you both, as you are 
 neither of you large." 
 
 '^You are all kindness, madam; but I believe 
 we must abide by our original plan." 
 
 Lady Catherine seemed resigned. ^'Mrs. Col- 
 lins, you must send a servant with them. You 
 know I always speak my mind, and I cannot 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 to that sort of thing. Young 
 women should always be properly guarded and at- 
 tended, according to their situation in life. When 
 my niece Georgiana went to Eamsgate last sum- 
 mer, I made a point of her having two men-ser- 
 vants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 37 
 
 Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could 
 not have appeared with propriety in a different 
 manner. I am excessively attentive to all those 
 things. 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 those things. Where shall you change 
 horses? Oh, Bromley, of course. If you mention 
 my name at the Bell, you will be attended to.'' 
 
 Lady Catherine had many other questions to 
 ask respecting their journey; and as she did not 
 answer them all herself, attention was necessary, 
 which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her, or, 
 with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten 
 where she was. Eeflection must be reserved for 
 solitary hours: whenever she was alone, she gave 
 way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day 
 went by without a solitary walk, in which she 
 might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant 
 recollections. 
 
 Mr. Darcy 's letter she was in a fair way of soon 
 knowing by heart. She studied every sentence; 
 and her feelings towards its writer were at times 
 widely different. When she remembered the style 
 of his address, she was still full of indignation: 
 
38 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 but when she considered how unjustly she had 
 condemned and upbraided him, her anger was 
 turned against herself; and his disappointed feel- 
 ings became the object of compassion. His at- 
 tachment excited gratitude, his general character 
 respect : but she could not approve him ; nor could 
 she for a moment repent her refusal, or feel the 
 slightest inclination ever to see him again. In 
 her own past behavior there was a constant source 
 of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects 
 of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. 
 They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, con- 
 tented with laughing at them, would never exert 
 himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his young- 
 est daughters; and her mother, with manners so 
 far from right herself, was entirely insensible of 
 the evil. Elizabeth had frequently united with 
 Jane in an endeavor to check the imprudence of 
 Catherine and Lydia; but while they were sup- 
 ported by their mother's indulgence, what chance 
 could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak- 
 spirited, irritable, and completely under Lydia' s 
 guidance, had been always affronted by their ad- 
 vice; and Lydia, 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 was within a walk of Longbourn, they 
 would be going there forever. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 39 
 
 Anxiety on Jane's behalf was another prevail- 
 ing concern; and Mr. Darcy's explanation, by 
 restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, 
 heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His 
 affection was proved to have been sincere, and his 
 conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could 
 attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his 
 friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of 
 a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete 
 with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane 
 had been deprived by the folly and indecorum of 
 her own family! 
 
 When to these recollections was added the 
 development of Wickham's character, it may be 
 easily believed that the happy spirits which had 
 seldom been depressed before were now so much 
 affected as to make it almost impossible for her 
 to appear tolerably cheerful. 
 
 Their engagements at Eosings were as frequent 
 during the last week of her stay as they had been 
 at first. The very last evening was spent there; 
 and her Ladyship again inquired minutely into 
 the particulars of their journey, gave them direc- 
 tions 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 the morning, 
 and pack her trunk afresh. 
 
40 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great 
 condescension, wished them a good journey, and 
 invited them to come to Hunsford again next year; 
 and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to 
 courtesy and hold out her hand to both. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins 
 met for breakfast a few minutes before the others 
 appeared; and he took the opportunity of pajdng 
 the parting civilities which he deemed indispensa- 
 bly necessary. 
 
 I know not, Miss Elizabeth, " said he, whether 
 Mrs. Collins has yet expressed her sense of your 
 kindness in coming to us ; but I am very certain 
 you will not leave the house without receiving her 
 thanks for it. The favor of your company has 
 been much felt, I assure you. We know how 
 little there is to tempt any one to our humble 
 abode. Our plain manner of living, our small 
 rooms, and few domestics, and the little we see of 
 the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to 
 a young lady like yourself; but I hope you will 
 believe us grateful for the condescension, and that 
 we have done everything in our power to prevent 
 your spending your time unpleasantly.'' 
 
 Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assur- 
 ances of happiness. She had spent six weeks with 
 great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with 
 Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, 
 
42 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 must make her feel the obliged. Mr. Collins was 
 gratified; and with a more smiling solemnity 
 replied, — 
 
 ^^It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that 
 you have passed your time not disagreeably. We 
 have certainly done our best ; and most fortunately 
 having it in our power to introduce you to very 
 superior society, and from our connection with 
 Kosings, the frequent means of varying the humble 
 home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that 
 your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irk- 
 some. Our situation with regard to Lady Cathe- 
 rine's family is, indeed, the sort of extraordinary 
 advantage and blessing which few can boast. You 
 see on what a footing we are. You see how con- 
 tinually we are engaged there. In truth, I must 
 acknowledge that with all the disadvantages of 
 this humble parsonage, I should not think any 
 one abiding in it an object of compassion, while 
 they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.'' 
 
 Words were insufficient for the elevation of his 
 feelings; and he was obliged to walk about the 
 room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility and 
 truth in a few short sentences. 
 
 You may, in fact, carry a very favorable report 
 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 
 
PRIDE AND PREJXJDICE. 
 
 43 
 
 I trust it does not appear that your friend has 
 drawn an unfortunate — But on this point it will 
 be as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, 
 my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart 
 most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. 
 My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and 
 one way of thinking. There is in everything a 
 most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas 
 between us. We seem to have been designed for 
 each other.'' 
 
 Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great 
 happiness where that was the case, and with equal 
 sincerity could add that she firmly believed and 
 rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not 
 sorry, however, to have the recital of them inter- 
 rupted by the entrance of 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 regret- 
 ting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem 
 to ask for compassion. Her home and her house- 
 keeping, her parish and her poultry, and all 
 their dependent concerns had not yet lost their 
 charms. 
 
 At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were 
 fastened on, the parcels placed within, and it was 
 pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate 
 parting between the friends, Elizabeth was at- 
 tended to the carriage by Mr. Collins ; and as they 
 
44 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 walked down the garden, he was commissioning 
 her with his best respects to all her family, not 
 forgetting his thanks for the kindness he had 
 received at Longbourn in the winter, and his com- 
 pliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though un- 
 known. He then handed her in, Maria followed, 
 and the door was on the point of being closed, 
 when he suddenly reminded them, with some con- 
 sternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to 
 leave any message for the ladies of Rosings. 
 
 ^^But,^' he added, ^'youwillof course wish to 
 have your humble respects delivered to them, with 
 your grateful thanks for their kindness to you 
 while you have been here.'^ 
 
 Elizabeth made no objection : the door was then 
 allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off. 
 
 Good gracious!" cried Maria, after a few 
 minutes' silence; ^'it seems but a day or two since 
 we first came, and yet how many things have 
 happened! " 
 
 ^^A great many, indeed, said her companion, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 ^< We have dined nine times at Eosings, besides 
 drinking tea there twice ! How much I shall have 
 to tell!'' 
 
 Elizabeth privately added, ^^And how much I 
 shall have to conceal." 
 
 Their journey was performed without much con- 
 versation or any alarm ; and within four hours of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 45 
 
 their leaving Hunsford they reached Mr. Gardi- 
 ner's house, where they were to remain a few 
 days. 
 
 Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little op- 
 portunity of studying her spirits, amidst the vari- 
 ous engagements which the kindness of her aunt 
 had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home 
 with her, and at Longbourn 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's proposals. To know that 
 she had the power of revealing what would so 
 exceedingly astonish Jane, and must at the same 
 time so highly gratify whatever of her own vanity 
 she had not yet been able to reason away, was such 
 a temptation to openness as nothing could have 
 conquered but the state of indecision in which 
 she remained as to the extent of what she should 
 communicate, and her fear, if she once entered on 
 the subject, of being hurried into repeating some- 
 thing of Bingley, which might only grieve her 
 sister further. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 It was the second week in May in which the 
 three young ladies set out together from Grace- 
 church Street for the town of , in Hertford- 
 shire; 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 a 
 dining-room uj^stairs. These two girls had been 
 above an hour in the place, happily employed in 
 visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel 
 on guard, and dressing a salad and cucumber. 
 
 After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly 
 displayed a table set out with such cold meat as 
 an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming, ^'Is not 
 this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?" 
 
 And we mean to treat you all,'' added Lydia; 
 ^'but you must lend us the money, for we have 
 just spent ours at the shop out there." Then 
 showing her purchases : Look here, I have bought 
 this bonnet. I do not think it is very pretty; but 
 I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall 
 pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see 
 if I can make it up any better." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 47 
 
 And when her sisters abused it as ngly, she 
 added, with perfect unconcern: ^'Oh, but there 
 were two or three much uglier in the shop; and 
 when I have bought some prettier-colored satin 
 to trim it with fresh, I think it will be very 
 tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify 
 
 what one wears this summer, after the shire 
 
 have left Meryton; and they are going in a 
 fortnight. 
 
 ^^Are they, indeed?" cried Elizabeth, with the 
 greatest satisfaction. 
 
 They are going to be encamped near Brighton; 
 and I do so want papa to take us all there for the 
 summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, 
 and I dare 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; ^Hhat would be a 
 delightful 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 
 monthly balls of Meryton!'' 
 
 '^Now I have got some news for you," said 
 Lydia, as they sat down to table. ^' What do you 
 think? It is excellent news, capital news, and 
 about a certain person that we all like." 
 
 Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and 
 
48 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 the waiter was told that he need not stay. Lydia 
 laughed, and said, — 
 
 *^Ay, that is just like your formality and dis- 
 cretion. You thought the waiter must not hear. 
 As if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse 
 things said than 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 dear Wickham ; too good for 
 the waiter, is not it? There is no danger of 
 Wickham's marrying Mary King, — there 's for 
 you! She is gone down to her uncle at Liver- 
 pool, — gone to stay. Wickham is safe." 
 
 *'And Mary King is safe," added Elizabeth, — 
 ''safe from a connection imprudent as to fortune." 
 
 ''She is a great fool for going away, if she 
 liked him.'^ 
 
 "But I hope there is no strong attachment on 
 either side," said Jane. 
 
 "I am sure there is not on his. I will answer 
 for it, he never cared three straws about her. Who 
 could about such a nasty little freckled thing? " 
 
 Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however in- 
 capable of such coarseness of expression herself, 
 the coarseness of the sentiment was little other 
 than her own breast had formerly harbored and 
 fancied liberal! 
 
 As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, 
 the carriage was ordered; and after some contriv- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 49 
 
 ance the whole party, with all their hoxes, work- 
 hags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of 
 Kitty's and Lydia's purchases, were seated in it. 
 How nicely we are crammed in! cried Lydia. 
 I am glad I brought my bonnet, if it is only for the 
 fun of having another bandbox ! Well, now let us 
 be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh 
 all the way home. And in the first place, let us 
 hear what has 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 would have got a husband before you came 
 back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I de- 
 clare. She is almost three-and-twenty ! Lord! 
 how ashamed I should be of not being married 
 before three-and-twenty! My aunt Philips wants 
 you so to get husbands, 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 married before 
 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 by, Mrs. Forster and me are 
 such friends !) ; and so she asked the two Harring- 
 tons to come. But Harriet was ill, and so Pen was 
 forced to come by herself; and then, what do you 
 
 VOL. II. — 4 
 
50 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 think we did? We dressed up Chamberlayne in 
 woman's clothes, 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, ex- 
 cept my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of 
 her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he 
 looked! When Denny and Wickham and Pratt 
 and two or 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 sus- 
 pect something, and then they soon found out what 
 was the matter." 
 
 With such kind of histories of their parties and 
 good jokes did Lj^dia, assisted by Kitty's hints 
 and additions, endeavor to 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 in undiminished beauty ; 
 and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet 
 say voluntarily 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 were the subjects 
 which occupied them : Lady Lucas was inquiring 
 of Maria, across the table, after the welfare and 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 51 
 
 poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet was 
 doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account 
 of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some 
 way below her, and on the other, retailing them 
 all to the younger Miss Lucases; and Lydia, in a 
 voice rather louder than any other person's, was 
 enumerating the various pleasures of the morning 
 to anybody who would hear her. 
 
 ^'Oh, Mary," said she, ^'I wish you had gone 
 with us, for we had such fun ! As we went along, 
 Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pre- 
 tended there was nobody in the coach; and I 
 should have gone so all the way, if Kitty had not 
 been sick ; and when we got to the George, I do 
 think we behaved very handsomely, for we treated 
 the other 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 the coach. I was ready to die of 
 laughter. And then we were so merry all the way 
 home ! We talked and laughed so loud that an}^- 
 body might have heard us ten miles off ! " 
 
 To this, Mary very gravely replied: <^Far be it 
 from me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleas- 
 ures. They would doubtless be congenial with 
 the generality of female minds. But I confess 
 they would have no charms for me. I should 
 infinitely prefer a book." 
 
52 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. 
 She seldom listened to anybody for more than half 
 a minute, and never attended to Mary at all. 
 
 In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the 
 rest of the girls to walk to Meryton and see how 
 everybody went on; but Elizabeth steadily op- 
 posed the scheme. It should not be said that the 
 Miss Bennets could not be at home half a day be- 
 fore they were in pursuit of the officers. There 
 was another reason, too, for her opposition. She 
 dreaded seeing Wickham again, and was resolved 
 to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort to 
 her of the regiment's approaching removal was 
 indeed beyond expression. In a fortnight they 
 were to go ; and once gone, she hoped there could 
 be nothing more to plague her on his account. 
 
 She had not been many hours at home, before 
 she found that the Brighton scheme, of which 
 Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was 
 under frequent discussion between her parents. 
 Elizabeth saw directly that her father had not the 
 smallest intention of yielding; but his answers 
 were at the same time so vague and equivocal that 
 her mother, though often disheartened, had never 
 yet despaired of s^ucceeding at last. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Elizabeth's impatience to acquaint Jane with 
 what had happened could no longer be overcome; 
 and at length resolving to suppress every particu- 
 lar in which her sister was concerned, and pre- 
 paring her to be surprised, she related to her the 
 next morning the chief of the scene between Mr. 
 Darcy and herself. 
 
 Miss Bennetts astonishment was soon lessened 
 by the strong sisterly partiality which made any 
 admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural; 
 and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. 
 She was sorry that Mr. Darcy should have deliv- 
 ered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to 
 recommend them; but still more was she grieved 
 for the unhappiness which her sister's refusal must 
 have given him. 
 
 ^'His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,'' 
 said she, ^^and certainly ought not to have ap- 
 peared; but consider how much it must increase 
 his disappointment." 
 
 '^Indeed," replied Elizabeth, ^^I am heartily- 
 sorry for him ; but he has other feelings which will 
 
54 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 probably soon drive away his regard for me. You 
 do not blame me, however, for refusing him? 
 Blame you! Oh, no.'' 
 
 But you blame me for having spoken so warmly 
 ofWickham?'' 
 
 ^^ISTo, — I do not know that you were wrong in 
 saying what you did/' 
 
 *^But you will know it, when I have told you 
 what happened the very next day." 
 
 She then spoke of the letter, repeating the 
 whole of its contents as far as they concerned 
 George Wickham. What a stroke was this for 
 poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through 
 the world without believing that so much wicked- 
 ness existed in the whole race of mankind as was 
 here collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy's 
 vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capa- 
 ble of consoling her for such discovery. Most ear- 
 nestly did she labor to prove the probability of error, 
 and seek to clear one without involving the other. 
 
 ^^This will not do," said Elizabeth; ^^you never 
 will be able to make both of them good for any- 
 thing. Take your choice, but you must be satis- 
 fied with only one. There is but such a quantity 
 of merit between them, — just enough to make one 
 good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting 
 about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined 
 to believe it all Mr. Darcy's ; but you shall do as 
 you choose." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 55 
 
 It was some time, however, before a smile could 
 be extorted from Jane. 
 
 ^'1 do not know when I have been more 
 shocked,'' said she. ^^Wickham so very bad! 
 It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! 
 Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suf- 
 fered. Such a disappointment! and with the 
 knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to 
 relate such a thing of his sister! 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 you 
 lament over him much longer, my heart will be 
 as light as a feather." 
 
 ^'Poor Wickham! there is such an expression 
 of goodness in his countenance, such an openness 
 and gentleness in his manner." 
 
 There certainly was some great mismanage- 
 ment 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 in the 
 appearance of it as you used to do." 
 
 And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in 
 taking so decided a dislike to him, without any 
 reason. It is such a spur to one's genius, such an 
 
56 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. 
 One may be continually abusive without saying 
 anything just; but one cannot be always laugh- 
 ing at a man without now and then stumbling 
 on something witty." 
 
 Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am 
 sure you could not treat the matter as you do 
 now.'' 
 
 "Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable 
 enough, I was very uncomfortable, — I may say 
 unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I 
 felt, no Jane to comfort me, and say that I had 
 not been so very weak and vain and nonsensical 
 as I knew I had ! Oh, how I wanted you ! '' 
 
 '^How unfortunate that you should have used 
 such very strong expressions in speaking of Wick- 
 ham to Mr. Darcy, for now they do appear wholly 
 undeserved." 
 
 "Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking 
 with bitterness 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 ought not, to make 
 our acquaintance in general understand Wickham's 
 character." 
 
 Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied: 
 " Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him 
 80 dreadfully. What is your own opinion? " 
 
 "That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 57 
 
 Darcy has not authorized me to make his commu- 
 nication public. On the contrary, every particular 
 relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much 
 as possible to myself; and if I endeavor to unde- 
 ceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will 
 believe me? The general prejudice against Mr, 
 Darcy is so violent that it would be the death of 
 half the good people in Meryton, to attempt to 
 place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to 
 it. Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore 
 it will not signify to anybody here what he really 
 is. Some time hence it will be all found out, and 
 then we may laugh at their stupidity in not know- 
 ing it before. At present I will say nothing 
 about it.'' 
 
 You are quite right. To have his errors made 
 public might ruin him forever. He is now, per- 
 haps, sorry for what he has done, 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 which had 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 lurking behind, 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 
 
58 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in 
 which no one could partake; and she was sensible 
 that nothing less than a perfect understanding be- 
 tween the parties could justify her in throwing off 
 this last encumbrance of mystery. And then," 
 said she, ^'if that very improbable event should 
 ever take place, I shall merely be able to tell what 
 Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner 
 himself. The liberty of communication cannot be 
 mine till it has lost all its value! 
 
 She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure 
 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 love before, her regard had all 
 the warmth of first attachment, and from her age 
 and disposition, greater steadiness than first at- 
 tachments 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 to the feelings of her friends were requi- 
 site to check the indulgence of those regrets which 
 must have been injurious to her own health 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 speak of it again to anybody. I told my sister 
 Philips so the other day. But I cannot find out 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 59 
 
 that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well, 
 he is a very undeserving young man, — and I do not 
 suppose there is the least chance in the world of 
 her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his 
 coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I 
 have inquired of everybody, too, who is likely to 
 know." 
 
 ^^I do not believe that he will ever live at 
 Netherfield any more.'' 
 
 ^^Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody 
 wants him to come; though I shall always say 
 that he used my daughter extremely ill ; and if I 
 was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, 
 my comfort is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken 
 heart, and then he will be sorry for what he has 
 done." 
 
 Bnt as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from 
 any such expectation, she made no answer. 
 
 ^'Well, Lizzy," continued her mother, soon 
 afterwards, and so the Collinses live very com- 
 fortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it 
 will last. And what sort of table do they keep? 
 Charlotte is an excellent manager, I dare say. If 
 she is half as sharp as her mother, she is saving 
 enough. There is nothing extravagant in their 
 housekeeping, I dare say." 
 
 ^^No, nothing at all." 
 
 ^^A great deal of good management, depend up- 
 on it. Yes, yes. They will take care not to out- 
 
60 
 
 0 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 run their income. They will never be distressed 
 for money. Well, much good may it do them^ 
 And so, I suppose, they often talk of having 
 Longbourn when your father is dead. They look 
 upon it quite as their own, I dare say, whenever 
 that happens.'' 
 
 ^^It was a subject which they could not mention 
 before me.'' 
 
 **No; it would have been strange if they had. 
 But I make no doubt they often talk of it between 
 themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an 
 estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the 
 better. I should be ashamed of having one that 
 was only entailed on me." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The first week of their return was soon gone. 
 The second began. It was the last of the regi- 
 ment's stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies 
 in the neighborhood were drooping apace. The 
 dejection was almost universal. The elder Miss 
 Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink, and 
 sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employ- 
 ments. Very frequently were they reproached for 
 this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own 
 misery was extreme, and who could not compre- 
 hend such hard-heartedness in any of the family. 
 
 *^Good Heaven! What is to become of us? 
 What are we to do?'' would they often exclaim 
 in the bitterness of woe. ^'How can you be smil- 
 ing so, Lizzy? " 
 
 Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; 
 she remembered what she had herself endured on 
 a similar occasion five-and-twenty years ago. 
 
 '^I am sure," said she, I cried for two days to- 
 gether when Colonel Millar's regiment went away. 
 I thought I should have broke my heart." 
 
 ^'I am sure I shall break mine," said Lydia. 
 
 ''If one could but go to Brighton!" observed 
 Mrs. Bennet. 
 
62 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ''Oil, yes! — if one could but go to BrigTitoa! 
 
 But papa is so disagreeable." 
 
 ''A little sea-bathing would set me up forever." 
 
 ''And my aunt Philips is sure it would do me a 
 great deal of good," added Kitty. 
 
 Such were the kind of lamentations resounding 
 perpetually through Longbourn House. Elizabeth 
 tried to be diverted by them; but all sense of 
 pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the 
 justice of Mr. Darcy's objections; and never had 
 she before been so much disposed to pardon his 
 interference in the views of his friend. 
 
 But the gloom of Lydia's prospect was shortly 
 cleared away; for she received an invitation from 
 Mrs. Forster, the wife of the colonel of the regi- 
 ment, to accompany her to Brighton. This inval- 
 uable friend was a very young woman, and very 
 lately married. A resemblance in good-humor 
 and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia 
 to each other, and out of their three months' ac- 
 quaintance they had been intimate two. 
 
 The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adora- 
 tion of Mrs. Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, 
 and the mortification of Kitty are scarcely to be 
 described. Wholly inattentive to her sister's 
 feelings, Lydia flew about the house in restless 
 ecstasy, calling for every one's congratulations, 
 and laughing and talking wth more violence than 
 ever; whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 63 
 
 parlor repining at her fate in terms as unreason- 
 able as her accent was peevish. 
 
 ^^I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask 
 me as well as Lydia, said she, ^ though I am not 
 her particular friend. I have just as much right 
 to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two 
 years older.'' 
 
 In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her 
 reasonable, and Jane to make her resigned. As 
 for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far 
 from exciting in her the same feelings as in her 
 mother and Lydia, that she considered it as the 
 death-warrant of all possibility of common-sense 
 for the latter; and detestable as such a step must 
 make her, were it known, she could not help secret- 
 ly advising her father not to let her go. She rep- 
 resented to him all the improprieties of Lydia's 
 general behavior, the little advantage she could 
 derive from the friendship of such a woman as 
 Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being 
 yet more imprudent with such a companion at 
 Brighton, where the temptations must be greater 
 than at home. He heard her attentively, and then 
 said, — 
 
 Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed 
 herself in some public place or other, and we can 
 never expect her to do it with so little expense or 
 inconvenience to her family as under the present 
 circumstances.'' 
 
64 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ''If you were aware/' said Elizabeth, ''of the 
 very great disadvantage to us all, which must 
 arise from the public notice of Lydia's unguarded 
 and imprudent manner, nay, which has already 
 arisen from it, I am sure you would judge differ- 
 ently in the affair.'' 
 
 "Already arisen! " repeated Mr. Bennet. 
 "What! has she frightened away some of your 
 lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast 
 down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to 
 be connected with a little absurdity are not worth 
 a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful 
 fellows who have been kept aloof by Lydia's folly." 
 
 "Indeed, you are mistaken. I have no such 
 injuries to resent. It is not of peculiar, but of 
 general evils, which I am now complaining. Our 
 importance, our respectability, in the world must 
 be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance, 
 and disdain of all restraint which mark Lydia's 
 character. Excuse me, — for I must speak 
 plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take 
 the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and 
 of teaching her that her present pursuits are not 
 to be the business of her life, she will soon be be- 
 yond the reach of amendment. Her character will 
 be fixed; and she will, at sixteen, be the most de- 
 termined flirt that ever made herself and her 
 family ridiculous. A flirt, too, in the worst and 
 meanest degree of flirtation; without any attrac- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 65 
 
 tion beyond youth and a tolerable person; and, 
 from the ignorance and emptiness of her mind, 
 wholly unable to ward off any portion of that uni- 
 versal contempt which her rage for admiration 
 will excite. In this danger Kitty is also compre- 
 hended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. 
 Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled ! 
 Oh, my dear father, can you suppose it possible 
 that they will not be censured and despised wher- 
 ever they are known, and that their sisters will 
 not be often involved in the disgrace? 
 
 Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the 
 subject; and affectionately taking her hand, said 
 in reply, — 
 
 ^^Do not make j^-ourself uneasy, my love. 
 Wherever you and Jane are known, you must be 
 respected and valued; and you will not appear to 
 less advantage for having a couple of — or I may 
 say, three — very silly sisters. We shall have 
 no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to 
 Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is 
 a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real 
 mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an ob- 
 ject of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be 
 of less importance even as a common flirt than she 
 has been here. The officers will find women better 
 worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that 
 her being there may teach her her own insigni- 
 ficance. At any rate, she cannot grow many 
 
 VOL. II. — 5 
 
66 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her 
 up for the rest of her life." 
 
 With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be 
 content; but her own opinion continued the same, 
 and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was 
 not in her nature, however, to increase her vexa- 
 tions by dwelling on them. She was confident of 
 having performed her duty; and to fret over un- 
 avoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was 
 no part of her disposition. 
 
 Had Lydia and her mother known the substance 
 of her conference with her father, their indigna- 
 tion would hardly have found expression in their 
 united volubility. In Lydia's imagination, a 
 visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of 
 earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative 
 eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place 
 covered with officers. She saw herself the object 
 of attention to tens and to scores of them at present 
 unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp : 
 its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity 
 of lines, crowded with the young and the gay, and 
 dazzling with scarlet; and, to complete the view, 
 she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly 
 flirting with at least six officers at once. 
 
 Had she known that her sister sought to tear 
 her from such prospects and such realities as these, 
 what would have been her sensations? They could 
 have been understood only by her mother, who 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 67 
 
 might have felt nearly the same. Lydia's going 
 to Brighton was all that consoled her for the mel- 
 ancholy conviction of her husband's never intend- 
 ing to go there himself. 
 
 But they were entirely ignorant of what had 
 passed; and their raptures continued, with little 
 intermission, to the very day of Lydia's leaving 
 home. 
 
 Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the 
 last time. Having been frequently in company 
 with him since her return, agitation was pretty 
 well over; the agitations of former partiality en- 
 tirely so. She had even learned to detect, in the 
 very gentleness which had first delighted her, an 
 affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. 
 In his present behavior to herself, moreover, she 
 had a fresh source of displeasure ; for the inclina- 
 tion he soon testified of renewing those attentions 
 which had marked the early part of their acquaint- 
 ance could only serve, after what had since passed, 
 to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in 
 finding herself thus selected as the object of such 
 idle and frivolous gallantry ; and while she steadily 
 repressed it, could not but feel the reproof con- 
 tained in his believing that however long and for 
 whatever cause his attentions had been withdrawn, 
 her vanity would be gratified, and her preference 
 secured at any time, by their renewal. 
 
 On the very last day of the regiment's remain- 
 
68 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ing in Meryton, he dined, with others of the offi- 
 cers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth 
 disposed to part from him in good-humor, that on 
 his making some inquiry as to the manner in 
 which her time had passed at Hunsford, she men- 
 tioned Colonel Fitzwilliam's and Mr. Darcy's liav- 
 ing both spent three weeks at Rosings, and asked 
 him if he were acquainted with the former. 
 
 He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but 
 with a moment's recollection and a returning 
 smile, replied that he had formerly seen him 
 often, and after observing that he was a very 
 gentlemanlike man, asked her how she had liked 
 him. Her answer was warmly in his favor. With 
 an air of indifference he soon afterwards added, 
 
 How long did you say that he was at Eosings?'' 
 
 ^'Nearly three weeks." 
 And you saw him frequently? 
 
 ^' Yes, almost every day.'' 
 
 ^^His manners are very different from his 
 cousin's." 
 
 ^^Yes, very different; but I think Mr. Darcy 
 improves on acquaintance." 
 
 Indeed! " cried Wickham, with a look which 
 did not escape her. ^^And pray may I ask — " 
 But checking himself, he added in a gayer tone: 
 *'Is it in address that he improves? Has he 
 deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary 
 style? For I dare not hope," he continued, in a 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 69 
 
 lower and more serious tone, that he is improved 
 in essentials/' 
 
 ^^Oh, no!'' said Elizabeth. ^^In essentials I 
 believe he is very much what he ever was." 
 
 While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely 
 knowing whether to rejoice over her words or to 
 distrust their meaning. There was a something 
 in her countenance which made him listen with 
 an apprehensive and anxious attention, while she 
 added, — 
 
 ^^When I said that he improved on acquaint- 
 ance, I did not mean that either his mind or man- 
 ners were in a state of improvement; but that 
 from knowing him better, his disposition was 
 better understood." 
 
 Wickham's alarm now appeared in a heightened 
 complexion and agitated look; for a few minutes 
 he was silent, till, shaking off his embarrassment, 
 he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of 
 accents, — 
 
 ^^You, who so well know my feelings towards 
 Mr. Darcy, will readily comprehend how sincerely 
 I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume 
 even the appearance of what is right. His pride 
 in that direction may be of service, if not to him- 
 self, to many others, for it must deter him from 
 such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I 
 only fear that the sort of cautiousness to which 
 
70 
 
 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 you, I imagine, have been alluding, is merely 
 adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good 
 opinion and judgment he stands much in awe. 
 His fear of her has always operated, I know, when 
 they were together; and a good deal is to be im- 
 puted to his wish of forwarding the match with 
 Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he has very 
 much at heart." 
 
 Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but 
 she answered only by a slight inclination of the 
 head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on 
 the old subject of his grievances, and she was in 
 no humor to indulge him. The rest of the even- 
 ing passed with the appearance, on his side, of 
 usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to 
 distinguish Elizabeth; and they parted at last with 
 mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of 
 never meeting again. 
 
 When the party broke up, Lydia returned with 
 Mrs. Eorster to Meryton, from whence they were 
 to set out early the next morning. The separation 
 between her and her family was rather noisy than 
 pathetic. Kitty was the only one who shed tears ; 
 but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. 
 Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the 
 felicity of her daughter, and impressive in her 
 injunctions that she would not miss the opportunity 
 of enjoying herself as much as possible, — advice 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 71 
 
 wliicli there was every reason to believe would be 
 attended to; and in the clamorous happiness of 
 Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle 
 adieus of her sisters were uttered without being 
 heard. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Had Elizabeth's opinion been all drawn from her 
 own family, she could not have formed a very 
 pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic 
 comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and 
 beauty, and that appearance of good-humor which 
 youth and beauty generally give, had married a 
 woman whose weak understanding and illiberal 
 mind had very early in their marriage put an end 
 to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and 
 confidence had vanished forever ; and all his views 
 of domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. 
 Bennet was not of a disposition to seek comfort 
 for the disappointment which his own imprudence 
 had brought on in any of those pleasures which 
 too often console the unfortunate for their folly or 
 their vice. He was fond of the country and of 
 books; and from these tastes had arisen his prin- 
 cipal enjoyments. To his wife he was ver^'- little 
 otherwise indebted than as her ignorance and folly 
 had contributed to his amusement. This is not 
 the sort of happiness which a man would in gen- 
 eral wish to owe to his wife; but where other 
 powers of entertainment are wanting, the true 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 73 
 
 philosopher will derive benefit from such as are 
 given. 
 
 Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to 
 the impropriety of her father's behavior as a hus- 
 band. She had always seen it with pain; but 
 respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affec- 
 tionate treatment of herself, she endeavored to for- 
 get what she could not overlook, and to banish 
 from her thoughts that continual breach of con- 
 jugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing 
 his wife to the contempt of her own children, was 
 so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt 
 so strongly as now the disadvantages which must 
 attend the children of so unsuitable a marriage, 
 nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising 
 from so ill-judged a direction of talents, — talents 
 which, rightly used, might at least have preserved 
 the respectability of his daughters, even if inca- 
 pable of enlarging the mind of his wife. 
 
 When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham's 
 departure, she found little other cause for satisfac- 
 tion in the loss of the regiment. Their parties 
 abroad were less varied than before ; and at home 
 she had a mother and sister whose constant re- 
 pinings at the dulness of everything around them 
 threw a real gloom over their domestic circle ; and 
 though Kitty might in time regain her natural 
 degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain 
 were removed, her other sister, from whose dispo- 
 
74 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 sition greater evil might be apprehended, was 
 likely to be hardened in all her folly and assur- 
 ance, by a situation of such double danger as a 
 watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, 
 therefore, she found, what has been sometimes 
 found before, that an event to which she had 
 looked forward with impatient desire did not, in 
 taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had 
 promised herself. It was consequently necessary 
 to name some other period for the commencement 
 of actual felicity; to have some other point on 
 which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and 
 by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, 
 console herself for the present, and prepare for 
 another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes 
 was now the object of her happiest thoughts: it 
 was her best consolation for all the uncomfortable 
 hours which the discontentedness of her mother 
 and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have 
 included Jane in the scheme, every part of it 
 would have been perfect. 
 
 ^^But it is fortunate," thought she, ^^that I 
 have something to wish for. Were the whole 
 arrangement complete, my disappointment would 
 be certain. But here, by carrying with me one 
 ceaseless source of regret in my sister's absence, I 
 may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of 
 pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part 
 promises delight can never be successful ; and gen- 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 75 
 
 eral disappointment is only warded off by the 
 defence of some little peculiar vexation.'^ 
 
 When Lydia went away she promised to write 
 very often and very minutely to her mother and 
 Kitty; but her letters were always long expected 
 and always very short. Those to her mother con- 
 tained little else than that they were just returned 
 from the library, where such and such officers had 
 attended them, and where she had seen such beau- 
 tiful ornaments as made her quite wild; that she 
 had a new gown or a new parasol, which she 
 would have described more fully, but was obliged 
 to leave off in a violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster 
 called her, and they were going to the camp; and 
 from her correspondence with her sister there was 
 still less to be learned, for her letters to Kitty, 
 though rather longer, were much too full of lines 
 under the words to be made public. 
 
 After the first fortnight or three weeks of her 
 absence, health, good-humor, and cheerfulness 
 began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything 
 wore a happier aspect. The families who had 
 been in town for the winter came back again, and 
 summer finery and summer engagements arose. 
 Mrs. Bennet was restored to her usual querulous 
 serenity; and by the middle of June Kitty was 
 so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton 
 without tears, — an event of such happy promise 
 as to make Elizabeth hope that by the following 
 
76 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable as 
 not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, 
 by some cruel and malicious arrangement at the 
 War Office, another regiment should be quartered 
 in Meryton. 
 
 The time fixed for the beginning of their north- 
 ern tour was now fast approaching; and a fort- 
 night only was wanting of it, when a letter arrived 
 from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its 
 commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr. 
 Gardiner would be prevented by business from 
 setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must 
 be in London again within a month ; and as that 
 left too short a period for them to go so far, and 
 see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see 
 it with the leisure and comfort they had built on, 
 they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and sub- 
 stitute a more contracted tour; and according to 
 the present plan, were to go no farther northward 
 than Derbyshire. In that county there was 
 enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their 
 three weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a pecu- 
 liarly strong attraction. The town where she had 
 formerly passed some years of her life, and where 
 they were now to spend a few days, was probably 
 as great an object of her curiosity as all the cele- 
 brated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, 
 or the Peak. 
 
 Elizabeth was excessivcl; lisappointed; she had 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 77 
 
 set her heart on seeing the Lakes, and still thought 
 there might have been time enough. But it was 
 her business to be satisfied, and certainly her tem- 
 per to be happy ; and all was soon right again. 
 
 With the mention of Derbyshire, there were 
 many ideas connected. It was impossible for her 
 to see the word without thinking of Pemberley 
 and its owner. '^But surely,'' said she, '^I may 
 enter his county with impunity, and rob it of a 
 few petrified spars without his perceiving me." 
 
 The period of expectation was now doubled. 
 Four weeks were to pass away before her uncle and 
 aunt's arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did 
 at length appear at Longbourn. The children — 
 two girls of six and eight years old, and two 
 younger boys — were to be left under the particular 
 care of their cousin Jane, who was the general 
 favorite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of 
 temper exactly adapted her for attending to them 
 in every way, — teaching them, playing with 
 them, and loving them. 
 
 The Gardiners stayed only one night at Long- 
 bourn, and set off the next morning with Eliza- 
 beth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One 
 enjoyment was certain, — that of suitableness as 
 companions, — a suitableness which comprehended 
 health and temper to bear inconveniences, cheer- 
 fulness to enhance every pleasure, and affec- 
 
78 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 tion and intelligence, which might supply it 
 among themselves if there were disappointments 
 abroad. 
 
 It is not the object of this work to give a de- 
 scription of Derbyshire, nor of any of the remark- 
 able places through which their route thither lay, — 
 Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Bir- 
 mingham, etc., are sufficiently known. A small 
 part of Derbyshire is all the present concern. To 
 the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. 
 Gardiner's former residence, and where she had 
 lately learned that some acquaintance still re- 
 mained, they bent their steps, after having seen 
 all the principal wonders of the country; and 
 within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth found, 
 from her aunt, that Pemberley was situated. It 
 was not in their direct road, nor more than a mile 
 or two out of it. In talking over their route the 
 evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an incli- 
 nation to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner de- 
 clared his willingness, and Elizabeth was applied 
 to for her approbation. 
 
 ^^My love, should not you like to see a place of 
 which you have heard so much,'' said her aunt, — 
 ^^a place, too, with which so many of your ac- 
 quaintance are connected? Wickham passed all 
 his youth there, you know." 
 
 Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had 
 no business at Pemberley, and was obliged to as- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 79 
 
 sume a disinclination for seeing it. '^She must 
 own that she was tired of great houses ; after go- 
 ing over so many, she really had no pleasure in 
 fine carpets or satin curtains.'' 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. *'If it 
 were merely a fine house richly furnished/' said 
 she, ^^I should not care about it myself; but the 
 grounds are delightful. They have some of the 
 finest woods in the country." 
 
 Elizabeth said no more ; but her mind could not 
 acquiesce. The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, 
 while viewing the place, instantly occurred. It 
 would be dreadful ! She blushed at the very idea, 
 and thought it would be better to speak openly to 
 her aunt than to run such a risk. But against 
 this there were objections; and she finally resolved 
 that it could be the last resource, if her private 
 inquiries as to the absence of the family were 
 unfavorably answered. 
 
 Accordingly, when she retired at night, she 
 asked the chambermaid whether Pemberley were 
 not a very fine place, what was the name of its 
 proprietor, and, with no little alarm, whether the 
 family were down for the summer? A most wel- 
 come negative followed the last question; and her 
 alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to 
 feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house her- 
 self; and when the subject was revived the next 
 
80 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 morning, and she was again applied to, could 
 readily answer, and with a proper air of indif- 
 ference, that she had not really any dislike to the 
 scheme. 
 
 To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the 
 first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some 
 perturbation; and when at length they turned in 
 at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. 
 
 The park was very large, and contained great 
 variety of ground. They entered it in one of its 
 lowest points, and drove for some time through a 
 beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent. 
 
 Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, 
 but she saw and admired every remarkable spot 
 and point of view. They gradually ascended for 
 half a mile, and then found themselves at the top 
 of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, 
 and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley 
 House, situated on the opposite side of the valley, 
 into which the road with some abruptness wound. 
 It was a large, handsome stone building, standing 
 well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of 
 high woody hills ; and in front a stream of some 
 natural importance was swelled into greater, but 
 without any artificial appearance. Its banks were 
 neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was 
 delighted. She had never seen a place for which 
 
 VOL. II. — 6 
 
82 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Nature had done more, or where natural beauty had 
 been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. 
 They were all of them warm in their admiration ; 
 and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of 
 Pemberley might be something! 
 
 They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and 
 drove to the door; and while examining the 
 nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of 
 meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the 
 chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to 
 see the place, they were admitted into the hall; 
 and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, 
 had leisure to wonder at her being where she was. 
 
 The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking 
 elderly woman, much less fine and more civil 
 than she had any notion of finding her. They fol- 
 lowed her into the dining-parlor. It was a large, 
 well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. 
 Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a 
 window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned 
 with wood, from which they had descended, re- 
 ceiving increased abruptness from the distance, 
 was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the 
 ground was good; and she looked on the whole 
 scene, the river, the trees scattered on its banks, 
 and the winding of the valley, as far as she could 
 trace it, with delight. As they passed into other 
 rooms, these objects were taking different posi- 
 tions; but from every window there were beauties 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 83 
 
 to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, 
 and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their 
 proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of 
 his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly 
 fine, — with less of splendor, and more real ele- 
 gance, than the furniture of Kosings. 
 
 ^^And of this place,'' thouglit she, ^'1 might 
 have been mistress! With these rooms I might 
 have now been familiarly acquainted! Instead of 
 viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced 
 in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visi- 
 tors my uncle and aunt. But no," recollecting 
 herself, ''that could never be; my uncle and aunt 
 would have been lost to me; I should not have 
 been allowed to invite them." 
 
 This was a lucky recollection, — it saved her 
 from something like regret. 
 
 She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether 
 her master were really absent, but had not courage 
 for it. At length, however, the question was asked 
 by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, 
 while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was; adding, 
 ''But we expect him to-morrow, with a large 
 party of friends." How rejoiced was Elizabeth 
 that their own journey had not by any circum- 
 stance been delayed a day! 
 
 Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. 
 She approached, and saw the likeness of Mr. 
 Wickham, suspended, amongst several other minia- 
 
84 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 tures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her 
 smilingly how she liked it. The housekeeper 
 came forward, and told them it was the picture of 
 a young gentleman, the son of her late master's 
 stev/ard, who had heen brought up by him at his 
 own expense. ^^He is now gone into the army,'' 
 she added; ^^but I am afraid he has turned out 
 very wild." 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, 
 but Elizabeth could not return it. 
 
 ^^And that," said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to 
 another of the miniatures, ^^is my master, — and 
 very like him. It was drawn at the same time 
 as the other, — about eight years ago." 
 
 ^'I have heard much of your master's fine per- 
 son," said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture; 
 "it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell 
 us whether it is like or not." 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds's respect for Elizabeth seemed to 
 increase on this intimation of her knowing her 
 master. 
 
 " Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy? " 
 Elizabeth colored, and said, "A little." 
 "And do not you think him a very handsome 
 gentleman, ma'am?" 
 "Yes, very handsome." 
 
 "I am sure I know none so handsome; but in 
 the gallery upstairs you will see a finer, larger 
 picture of him than this. This room was my late 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 85 
 
 master's favorite rooni, and these miniatures are 
 just as they used to be then. He was very fond 
 of them.'' 
 
 This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham's 
 being among them. 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to 
 one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight 
 years old. 
 
 *^And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her 
 brother?'' said Mr. Gardiner. 
 
 Oh, yes, — the handsomest young lady that 
 ever was seen; and so accomplished! She plays 
 and sings all day long. In the next room is a new 
 instrument just come down for her, — a present from 
 my master: she comes here to-morrow with him." 
 
 Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and 
 pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by 
 his questions and remarks: Mrs. Reynolds, either 
 from pride or attachment, had evidently great 
 pleasure in talking of her master and his sister. 
 
 ^^Is your master much at Pemberley in the 
 course of the year? " 
 
 *^Not so much as I could wish, sir; but I dare 
 say he may spend half his time here, and Miss 
 Darcy is always down for the summer months." 
 
 '^Except," thought Elizabeth, ^^when she goes 
 to Ramsgate." 
 
 *^If your master would marry, you might see 
 more of him." 
 
86 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 '*Yes, sir; but I do not know when that will 
 be. I do not know who is good enough for him.'' 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could 
 not help saying, ^^It is very much to his credit, I 
 am sure, that you should think so.'' 
 
 I say no more than the truth, and what every- 
 body will say that knows him," replied the other. 
 Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and 
 she listened with increasing astonishment as the 
 housekeeper added, "1 have never had a cross 
 word from him in my life, and I have known him 
 ever since he was four years old. ' ' 
 
 This was praise of all others most extraordinary, 
 most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a 
 good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. 
 Her keenest attention was awakened; she longed 
 to hear more, and was grateful to her uncle for 
 saying, — 
 
 There are very few people of whom so much 
 can be said. You are lucky in having such a 
 master." 
 
 ^'Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go 
 through the world, I could not meet with a better. 
 But I have always observed that they who are good- 
 natured when children are good-natured when they 
 grow up ; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, 
 most generous-hearted boy in the world." 
 
 Elizabeth almost stared at her. ^'Can this be 
 Mr. Darcy? " thought she. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 87 
 
 ''His father was an excellent man/' said Mrs. 
 Gardiner. 
 
 ''Yes, ma'am, that he was indeed; and his son 
 will be just like him, — just as affable to the 
 poor." 
 
 Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was 
 impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest 
 her on no other point. She related the subjects of 
 the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the 
 price of the furniture in vain. Mr. Gardiner, 
 highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to 
 which he attributed her excessive commendation of 
 her master, soon led again to the subject; and she 
 dwelt with energy on his many merits, as they 
 proceeded together up the great staircase. 
 
 "He is the best landlord and the best master,'' 
 said she, "that ever lived. Not like the wild 
 young men nowadays, who think of nothing but 
 themselves. There is not one of his tenants or 
 servants but what will give him a good name. 
 Some people call him proud; but I am sure I 
 never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only 
 because he does not rattle away like other young 
 men." 
 
 "In what an amiable light does this place 
 him! " thought Elizabeth. 
 
 "This fine account of him," whispered her aunt 
 as they walked, " is not quite consistent with his 
 behavior to our poor friend. ' ' 
 
88 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Perhaps we might be deceived." 
 ^' That is not very likely; our authority was too 
 good." 
 
 On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were 
 shown into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted 
 up with greater elegance and lightness than the 
 apartments below; and were informed that it was 
 but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who 
 had taken a liking to the room when last at 
 Pemberley. 
 
 **He is certainly a good brother," said Eliza- 
 beth, as she walked towards one of the windows. 
 
 Mrs. Eeynolds anticipated Miss Darcy's de- 
 light when she should enter the room. ^^And 
 this is always the way with him," she added. 
 
 Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is 
 sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing 
 he would not do for her.'' 
 
 The picture-gallery and two or three of the 
 principal bedrooms were all that remained to be 
 shown. In the former were many good paintings : 
 but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from 
 such as had been already visible below, she had 
 willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss 
 Darcy's, in crayons, whose subjects were usually 
 more interesting and also more intelligible. 
 
 In the gallery there were many family portraits, 
 but they could have little to fix the attention of 
 a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest of the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 89 
 
 only face whose features would be known to her. 
 At last it arrested her; and she beheld a striking 
 resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over 
 the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen 
 when he looked at her. She stood several minutes 
 before the picture in earnest contemplation, and 
 returned to it again before they quitted the gal- 
 lery. Mrs. Keynolds informed them that it had 
 been taken in his father's lifetime. 
 
 There was certainly at this moment in Eliza- 
 beth's mind a more gentle sensation towards the 
 original than she had ever felt in the height of 
 their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed 
 on him by Mrs. Keynolds was of no trifling nature. 
 What praise is more valuable than the praise of an 
 intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a 
 master, she considered how many people's happi- 
 ness were in his guardianship! How much of 
 pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! 
 How much of good or evil must be done by him! 
 Every idea that had been brought forward by the 
 housekeeper was favorable to his character; and 
 as she stood before the canvas on which he was 
 represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she 
 thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of 
 gratitude than it had ever raised before; she re- 
 membered its warmth, and softened its impropriety 
 of expression. 
 
 When all of the house that was open to general 
 
90 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 inspection had been seen, they returned down- 
 stairs j and taking leave of the housekeeper, were 
 consigned over to the gardener, who met them at 
 the hall door. 
 
 As they walked across the lawn towards the 
 river, Elizabeth turned back to look again. Her 
 uncle and aunt stopped also ; and while the former 
 was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the 
 owner of it himself suddenly came forward from 
 the road which led behind it to the stables. 
 
 They were within twenty yards of each other, 
 and so abrupt was his appearance that it was im- 
 possible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly 
 met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with 
 the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for 
 a moment seemed immovable from surprise; but 
 shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the 
 party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of 
 perfect composure, at least of perfect civility. 
 
 She had instinctively turned away; but stopping 
 on his approach, received his compliments with an 
 embarrassment impossible to be overcome. Had 
 his first appearance, or his resemblance to the pic- 
 ture they had just been examining, been insuffi- 
 cient to assure the other two that they now saw 
 Mr. Darcy, the gardener's expression of surprise 
 on beholding his master must immediately have 
 told it. They stood a little aloof while he was 
 talking to their niece, who, astonished and con- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 91 
 
 fused, scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and 
 knew not what answer she returned to his civil in- 
 quiries after her family. Amazed at the altera- 
 tion of his manner since they last parted, every 
 sentence that he uttered was increasing her em- 
 barrassment; and every idea of the impropriety of 
 her being found there recurring to her mind, the 
 few minutes in which they continued together were 
 some of the most uncomfortable of her life. Nor 
 did he seem much more at ease: when he spoke, 
 his accent had none of its usual sedateness ; and he 
 repeated his inquiries as to the time of her having 
 left Longbourn and of her stay in Derbyshire so 
 often and in so hurried a way as plainly spoke 
 the distraction of his thoughts. 
 
 At length every idea seemed to fail him; and 
 after standing a few moments without saying a 
 word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took 
 leave. 
 
 The others then joined her, and expressed their 
 admiration of his figure; but Elizabeth heard not 
 a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own feelings, 
 followed them in silence. She was overpowered 
 by shame and vexation. Her coming there was 
 the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in 
 the world! How strange must it appear to him! 
 In what a disgraceful light might it not strike so 
 vain a man! It might seem as if she had pur- 
 posely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! 
 
92 
 
 PRIDE Al^D PREJUDICE. 
 
 why did she come? or why did he thus come a day 
 before he was expected? Had they been only ten 
 minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the 
 reach of his discrimination; for it was plain that 
 he was that moment arrived, that moment alighted 
 from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again 
 and again over the perverseness of the meeting. 
 And his behavior, so strikingly altered, — what 
 could it mean? That he should even speak to her 
 was amazing ! — but to speak with such civility, 
 to inquire after her family! Never in her life had 
 she seen his manners so little dignified, never had 
 he spoken with such gentleness as on this unex- 
 pected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to 
 his last address in Rosings Park, when he put his 
 letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, 
 or how to account for it. 
 
 They had now entered a beautiful walk by the 
 side of the water, and every step was bringing for- 
 ward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer reach of the 
 woods to which they were approaching: but it was 
 some time before Elizabeth was sensible of any of 
 it; and though she answered mechanically to the 
 repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed 
 to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed 
 out, she distinguished no part of the scene. Her 
 thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of Pern- 
 berley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. 
 Darcy then was. She longed to know what at that 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 93 
 
 moment was passing in his mind; in what manner 
 he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of 
 everything, she was still dear to him. Perhaps 
 he had been civil only because he felt himself at 
 ease; yet there had been that in his voice which 
 was not like ease. Whether he had felt more of 
 pain or of pleasure in seeing her, she could not 
 tell; but he certainly had not seen her with 
 composure. 
 
 At length, however, the remarks of her compan 
 ions on her absence of mind roused her, and she 
 felt the necessity of appearing more like herself. 
 
 They entered the woods and bidding adieu to 
 the river for a while, ascended some of the higher 
 grounds; whence, in spots where the opening of 
 the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many 
 charming views of the valley, the opposite hills, 
 with the long range of woods overspreading many, 
 and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner 
 expressed a wish of going round the whole park, 
 but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a 
 triumphant smile, they were told that it was ten 
 miles round. It settled the matter; and they pur- 
 sued the accustomed circuit, which brought them 
 again, after some time, in a descent among hang- 
 ing woods, to the edge of the water, and one of its 
 narrowest parts. They crossed it by a simple 
 bridge, in character with the general air of the 
 scene , it was a spot less adorned than any they 
 
94 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 had yet visited; and the valley, here contracted 
 into a glen, allowed room only for the stream, and 
 a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood 
 which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore 
 its windings; but when they had crossed the 
 bridge, and perceived their distance from the 
 house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a great walker, 
 could go no farther, and thought only of returning 
 to the carriage as quickly as possible. Pier niece 
 was therefore obliged to submit, and they took 
 their way towards the house on the opposite side 
 of the river, in the nearest direction; but their 
 progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though sel- 
 dom able to indulge the taste, was very fond of fish- 
 ing, and was so much engaged in watching the 
 occasional appearance of some trout in the water, 
 and talking to the man about them, that he ad- 
 vanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this 
 slow manner, they were again surprised, and Eliza- 
 beth's astonishment was quite equal to what it had 
 been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approach- 
 ing them, and at no great distance. The walk 
 being here less sheltered than on the other side, 
 allowed them to see him before they met. Eliza- 
 beth, however astonished, was at least more pre- 
 pared for an interview than before, and resolved to 
 appear and to speak with calmness, if he really in- 
 tended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed, 
 she felt that he would probably strike into some 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 95 
 
 <7ther path. The idea lasted while a turning in 
 the walk concealed him from their view; the turn- 
 ing past, he was immediately hefore them. With 
 a glance she saw that he had lost none of his recent 
 civility; and to imitate his politeness, she began, 
 as they met, to admire the beauty of the place ; but 
 she had not got beyond the words ^'delightful'' 
 and charming," when some unlucky recollections 
 obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Pemberley 
 from her might be mischievously construed. Her 
 color changed, and she said no more. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and 
 on her pausing, he asked her if she would do him 
 the honor of introducing him to her friends. This 
 was a stroke of civility for which she was quite un- 
 prepared; and she could hardly suppress a smile at 
 his being now seeking the acquaintance of some 
 of those very people against whom his pride 
 had revolted, in his offer to herself. ''What will 
 be his surprise," thought she, "when he knows 
 who they are ! He takes them now for people of 
 fashion." 
 
 The introduction, however, was immediately 
 made ; and as she named their relationship to her- 
 self, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore 
 it, and was not without the expectation of his de- 
 camping as fast as he could from such disgraceful 
 companions. That he was surprised by the con- 
 nection was evident; he sustained it, however, 
 
96 PRIDE AKD PREJUDICE. 
 
 with fortitude, and so far from going away, 
 turned back with them, and entered into conver- 
 sation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not 
 but be pleased, could not but triumph. It was 
 consoling that he should know she had some rela- 
 tions for whom there was no need to blush. She 
 listened most attentively to all that passed between 
 them, and gloried in every expression, every sen- 
 tence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, 
 his taste, or his good manners. 
 
 The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and 
 she heard Mr. Darcy invite him, with the greatest 
 civility, to fish there as often as he chose, while 
 he continued in the neighborhood, offering at the 
 same time to supply him with fishing-tackle, and 
 pointing out those parts of the stream where there 
 was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was 
 walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a 
 look expressive of her wonder. Elizabeth said 
 nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the com- 
 pliment must be all for herself. Her astonish- 
 ment, however, was extreme ; and continually was 
 she repeating, ^^Why is he so altered? From 
 what can it proceed? It cannot be for me, it can- 
 not be for my sake that his manners are thus soft- 
 ened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work 
 such a change as this. It is impossible that he 
 should still love me.'' 
 
 After walking some time in this way, the two 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 97 
 
 ladies in front, the two gentlemen behind, on re- 
 suming their places, after descending to the brink 
 of the river for the better inspection of some curi- 
 ous water-plant, there chanced to be a little al- 
 teration. It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, 
 fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found 
 Elizabeth's arm inadequate to her support, and 
 consequently preferred her husband's. Mr. Darcy 
 took her place by her niece, and they walked on 
 together. After a short silence the lady first 
 spoke. She wished him to know that she had been 
 assured of his absence before she came to the place, 
 and accordingly began by observing that his ar- 
 rival had been very unexpected, — ^^for your house- 
 keeper," she added, informed us that you would 
 certainly not be here till to-morrow; and indeed, 
 before we left Bakewell, we understood that you 
 were not immediately expected in the country." 
 He acknowledged the truth of it all, and said that 
 business with his steward had occasioned his com- 
 ing forward a few hours before the rest of the party 
 with whom he had been travelling. ^^They will 
 join me early to-morrow," he continued; ^^and 
 among them are some who will claim an acquaint- 
 ance with you, — Mr. Bingley and his sisters." 
 
 Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her 
 thoughts were instantly driven back to the time 
 when Mr. Bingley's name had been last men- 
 tioned between them; and if she might judge 
 
 VOL. II. — 7 
 
98 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 from his complexion, his mind was not very dif- 
 ferently engaged. 
 
 There is also one other person in the party/' 
 he continued after a pause, ^^who more particu- 
 larly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow 
 me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to 
 your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton? " 
 
 The surprise of such an application was great 
 indeed; it was too great for her to know in what 
 manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt 
 that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of 
 being acquainted with her must be the work of 
 her brother, and without looking further, it was 
 satisfactory ; it was gratifying to know that his re- 
 sentment had not made him think really ill of her. 
 
 They now walked on in silence; each of them 
 deep in thought. Elizabeth was not comfortable, 
 — that was impossible; but she was flattered and 
 pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to 
 her was a compliment of the highest kind. They 
 soon outstripped the others; and when they had 
 reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were 
 half a quarter of a mile behind. 
 
 He then asked her to walk into the house ; but 
 she declared herself not tired, and they stood to- 
 gether on the lawn. At such a time much might 
 have been said, and silence was very awkward. 
 She wanted to talk, but there seemed an embargo 
 on every subject. At last she recollected that she 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 90 
 
 had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock 
 and Dovedale with great perseverance. Yet time 
 and her aunt moved slowly, and her patience 
 and her ideas were nearly worn out before the 
 tete-a-tete was over. 
 
 On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's coming up they 
 were all pressed to go into the house and take 
 some refreshment; but this was declined, and they 
 parted on each side with the utmost politeness. 
 Mr. Darc}^ handed the ladies into the carriage; 
 and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him walking 
 slowly towards the house. 
 
 The observations of her uncle and aunt now be- 
 gan; and each of them pronounced him to be 
 infinitely superior to anything they had expected. 
 **He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unas- 
 suming,'' said her uncle. 
 
 There is something a little stately in him, to 
 be sure," replied her aunt; ^'but it is confined to 
 his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now say 
 with the housekeeper, that though some people 
 may call him proud, I ha.ve seen nothing of it." 
 
 "I was never more surprised than by his be- 
 havior to us. It was more than civil; it was 
 really attentive; and there was no necessity for 
 such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth 
 was very trifling." 
 
 '^To be sure, Lizzy," said her aunt, *^he is not 
 so handsome as Wickham; or rather he has not 
 
100 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Wickham's countenance, for his features are per- 
 fectly good. But how came you to tell us that he 
 was so disagreeable? 
 
 Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could, — 
 said that she had liked him better when they met 
 in Kent than before, and that she had never seen 
 him so pleasant as this morning. 
 
 ^^But perhaps he maybe a little whimsical in 
 his civilities,'^ replied her uncle. ^'Your great 
 men often are ; and therefore I shall not take him 
 at his word about fishing, as he might change his 
 mind another day, and warn me off his grounds.'' 
 
 Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken 
 his character, but said nothing. 
 
 ^^From what we have seen of him," continued 
 Mrs. Gardiner, ^^I really should not have thought 
 that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by 
 anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He 
 has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, 
 there is something pleasing about his mouth when 
 he speaks; and there is something of dignity in 
 his countenance, that would not give one an un- 
 favorable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the 
 good lady who showed us the house did give him 
 a most flaming character! I could hardly help 
 laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal 
 master, I suppose; and that, in the eye of a ser- 
 vant, comprehends every virtue." 
 
 Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say some- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 101 
 
 thing in vindication of his behavior to Wickham; 
 and therefore gave them to understand, in as 
 guarded a manner as she could, that by what she 
 had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions 
 were capable of a very different construction, and 
 that his character was by no means so faulty, nor 
 Wickham's so amiable, as they had been consid- 
 ered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation of this, 
 she related the particulars of all the pecuniary 
 transactions in which they had been connected, 
 without actually naming her authority, but stating 
 it to be such as might be relied on. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned; but 
 as they were now approaching the scene of her 
 former pleasures, every idea gave way to the 
 charm of recollection, and she was too much en- 
 gaged in pointing out to her husband all the inter- 
 esting spots in its environs to think of anything 
 else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning's 
 walk, they had no sooner dined than she set off 
 again in quest of her former acquaintance, and the 
 evening was spent in the satisfactions of an inter- 
 course renewed after many years' discontinuance. 
 
 The occurrences of the day were too full of in- 
 terest to leave Elizabeth much attention for any of 
 these new friends ; and she could do nothing but 
 think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy's 
 civility, and above all, of his wishing her to be 
 acquainted with his sister. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would 
 hring his sister to visit her the very day after her 
 reaching Pemberley, and was, consequently, re- 
 solved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole 
 of that morning. But her conclusion was false; 
 for on the very morning after their own arrival at 
 Lambton, these visitors came. They had been 
 walking about the place with some of their new 
 friends, and were just returned to the inn to dress 
 themselves for dining with the same family, when 
 the sound of a carriage drew them to a window, 
 and they saw a gentleman and lady in a curricle 
 driving up the street. Elizabeth, immediately 
 recognizing the livery, guessed what it meant, and 
 imparted no small degree of surprise to her rela- 
 tions by acquainting them with the honor which 
 she expected. Her uncle and aunt were all amaze- 
 ment; and the embarrassment of her manner as she 
 spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many 
 of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened 
 to them a new idea on the business. Nothing had 
 ever suggested it before, but they now felt that 
 there was no other way of accounting for such at- 
 
PRIDE AND TREJUDICE. 103 
 
 tentions from such a quarter than hy supposing a 
 partiality for their niece. While these newly born 
 notions were passing in their heads, the pertur- 
 bation of Elizabeth's feelings was every moment 
 increasing. She was quite amazed at her own 
 discomposure; but amongst other causes of dis- 
 quiet, she dreaded lest the partiality of the brother 
 should have said too much in her favor; and more 
 than commonly anxious to please, she naturally 
 suspected that every power of pleasing would fail 
 her. 
 
 She retreated from the window, fearful of being 
 seen; and as she walked up and down the room, 
 endeavoring to compose herself, saw such looks of 
 inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made 
 everything worse. 
 
 Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this 
 formidable introduction took place. With aston- 
 ishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaint- 
 ance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. 
 Since her being at Lambton, she had heard that 
 Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the obser- 
 vation of a very few minutes convinced her that 
 she was only exceedingly shy. She found it diffi- 
 cult to obtain even a word from her beyond a 
 monosyllable. 
 
 Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than 
 Elizabeth; and though little more than sixteen, 
 her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly 
 
104 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 and graceful. She was less handsome than her 
 brother, but there was sense and good-humor in 
 her face, and her manners were perfectly unassum- 
 ing and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to 
 find in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer 
 as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by 
 discerning such different feelings. 
 
 They had not been long together before Darcy 
 told her that Bingley was also coming to wait on 
 her; and she had barely time to express her satis- 
 faction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bing- 
 ley's quick step was heard on the stairs, and in a 
 moment he entered the room. All Elizabeth's 
 anger against him had been long done away; but 
 had she still felt any, it could hardly have stood 
 its ground against the unaffected cordiality with 
 which he expressed himself on seeing her again. 
 He inquired, in a friendly though general way, 
 after her family, and looked and spoke with the 
 same good-humored ease that he had ever done. 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a 
 less interesting personage than to herself. They 
 had long wished to see him. The whole party 
 before them, indeed, excited a lively attention. 
 The suspicions which had just arisen of Mr. Darcy 
 and their niece directed their observation towards 
 each with an earnest though guarded inquiry; 
 and they soon drew from those inquiries the full 
 conviction that one of them at least knew what it 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 105 
 
 was to love. Of the lady's sensations they re- 
 mained a little in doubt, but that the gentleman 
 was overflowing with admiration was evident 
 enough. 
 
 Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She 
 wanted to ascertain the feelings of each of her visi- 
 tors, she wanted to compose her own, and to make 
 herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, 
 where she feared most to fail, she was most sure 
 of success, for those to whom she endeavored to 
 give pleasure were prepossessed in her favor. 
 Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and 
 Darcy determined, to be pleased. 
 
 In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew 
 to her sister; and oh! how ardently did she long 
 to know whether any of his were directed in a like 
 manner! Sometimes she could fancy that he talked 
 less than on former occasions, and once or twice 
 pleased herself with the notion that as he looked 
 at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But 
 though this might be imaginary, she could not be 
 deceived as to his behavior to Miss Darcy, who had 
 been set up as a rival to Jane. No look appeared 
 on either side that spoke particular regard. Noth- 
 ing occurred between them that could justify the 
 hopes of his sister. On this point she was soon 
 satisfied; and two or three little circumstances 
 occurred ere they parted, which in her anxious 
 interpretation denoted a recollection of Jane not 
 
106 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of saying 
 more that might lead to the mention of her, had 
 he dared. He observed to her, at a moment when 
 the others were talking together, and in a tone 
 which had something of real regret, that it was 
 a very long time since he had had the pleasure 
 of seeing her; and before she could reply, he 
 added: It is above eight months. We have not 
 met since the 26th of November, when we were all 
 dancing together at Netherfield. " 
 
 Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so ex- 
 act; and he afterwards took occasion to ask her, 
 when unattended to by any of the rest, whether all 
 her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not 
 much in the question, nor in the preceding re- 
 mark; but there was a look and a manner which 
 gave them meaning. 
 
 It was not often that she could turn her eyes on 
 Mr. Darcy himself; but whenever she did catch a 
 glimpse she saw an expression of general complai- 
 sance, and in all that he said she heard an accent 
 so far removed from hauteur or disdain of his com- 
 panions, as convinced her that the improvement of 
 manners which she had yesterday witnessed, how- 
 ever temporary its existence might prove, had at 
 least outlived one day. When she saw him thus 
 seeking the acquaintance and courting the good 
 opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few 
 months ago would have been a disgrace ; when she 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 107 
 
 saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the 
 very relations whom he had openly disdained, and 
 recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Par- 
 sonage, the difference, the change was so great, 
 and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could 
 hardly restrain her astonishment from being visi- 
 ble. Never, even in the company of his dear 
 friends at Netherfield or his dignified relations at 
 E-osings, had she seen him so desirous to please, 
 so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, 
 as now, when no importance could result from the 
 success of his endeavors, and when even the ac- 
 quaintance of those to whom his attentions were 
 addressed, would draw down the ridicule and 
 censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and 
 Kosings. 
 
 Their visitors stayed with them above half an 
 hour; and when they arose to depart, Mr. Darcy 
 called on his sister to join him in expressing their 
 wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss 
 Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left 
 the country. Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence 
 which marked her little in the habit of giving in- 
 vitations, readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked 
 at her niece, desirous of knowing how she, whom 
 the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to 
 its acceptance ; but Elizabeth had turned away her 
 head. Presuming, however, that this studied 
 avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrass- 
 
108 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing 
 in her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect 
 willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage 
 for her attendance, and the day after the next was 
 fixed on. 
 
 Bingley expressed great pleasure in the cer- 
 tainty of seeing Elizabeth again, having still a 
 great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to 
 make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Eliza- 
 beth, construing all this into a wish of hearing 
 her speak of her sister, was pleased; and on this 
 account, as well as some others, found herself, 
 when their visitors left them, capable of consider- 
 ing the last half-hour with some satisfaction, 
 though while it was passing the enjoyment of it 
 had been little. Eager to be alone, and fearful 
 of inquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she 
 stayed with them only long enough to hear their 
 favorable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried 
 away to dress. 
 
 But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gardiner's curiosity; it was not their wish to force 
 her communication. It was evident that she was 
 much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they 
 had before any idea of; it was evident that he was 
 very much in love with her. They saw much to 
 interest, but nothing to j^istify inquiry. 
 
 Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety 
 to think well; and as far as their acquaintance 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 109 
 
 reached, there was no fault to find. They could 
 not be untouched by his politeness j and had they 
 drawn his character from their own feelings and 
 his servant's report, without any reference to any 
 other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which 
 he was known would not have recognized it for 
 Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest, however, 
 in believing the housekeeper; and they soon be- 
 came sensible that the authority of a servant who 
 had known him since he was four years old, and 
 whose own manners indicated respectability, was 
 not to be hastily rejected. Neither had anything 
 occurred in the intelligence of their Lambton 
 friends that could materially lessen its weight. 
 They had nothing to accuse him of but pride; 
 pride he probably had, and if not, it would cer- 
 tainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small 
 market town where the family did not visit. It 
 was acknowledged, however, that he was a liberal 
 man, and did much good among the poor. 
 
 With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon 
 found that he was not held there in much estima- 
 tion ; for though the chief of his concerns with the 
 son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it 
 was yet a well-known fact that on his quitting 
 Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind him, 
 which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged. 
 
 As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pember- 
 ley this evening more than the last ; and the even- 
 
110 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ing, though as it passed it seemed long, was not 
 long enough to determine her feelings towards one 
 in that mansion; and she lay awake two whole 
 hours, endeavoring to make them out. She cer- 
 tainly did not hate him. No ; hatred had vanished 
 long ago, and she had almost as long heen ashamed 
 of ever feeling a dislike against him that could he 
 so called. The respect created hy the conviction 
 of his valuable qualities, though at first unwill- 
 ingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be 
 repugnant to her feelings ; and it was now height- 
 ened into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the 
 testimony so highly in his favor, and bringing for- 
 ward his disposition in so amiable a light, which 
 yesterday had produced. But above all, above re- 
 spect and esteem, there was a motive within her of 
 good-will which could not be overlooked. It was 
 gratitude, — gratitude, not merely for having 
 once loved her, but for loving her still well 
 enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony 
 of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust 
 accusations accompanying her rejection. He who 
 she had been persuaded would avoid her as his 
 greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meet- 
 ing, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, and 
 without SiTij indelicate display of regard, or any 
 peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only 
 were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of 
 her friends, and bent on making her known to his 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. Ill 
 
 sister. Such a change in a man of so much pride 
 excited not only astonishment but gratitude, — for 
 to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and as 
 such, its impression on her was of a sort to be en- 
 couraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it 
 could not be exactly defined. She respected, she 
 esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real 
 interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to 
 know how far she wished that welfare to depend 
 upon herself, and how far it would be for the hap- 
 piness of both that she should employ the power, 
 which her fancy told her she still possessed, of 
 bringing on the renewal of his addresses. 
 
 It had been settled in the evening, between the 
 aunt and niece, that such a striking civility as 
 Miss Darcy's, in coming to them on the very day 
 of her arrival at Pemberley, for she had reached 
 it only to a late breakfast, ought to be imitated, 
 though it could not be equalled, by some exertion 
 of politeness on their side, and consequently 
 that it would be highly expedient to wait on her 
 at Pemberley the following morning. They were, 
 therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though 
 when she asked herself the reason, she had very 
 little to say in reply. 
 
 Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The 
 fishing scheme had been renewed the day before, 
 and a positive engagement made of his meeting 
 some of the gentlemen at Pemberley by noon. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Convinced as Elizabetli now was that Miss 
 Bingley's dislike of her had originated in jeal- 
 ousy, she could not help feeling how very unwel- 
 come her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, 
 and was curious to know with how much civility 
 on that lady's side the acquaintance would now 
 be renewed. 
 
 On reaching the house, they were shown through 
 the hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect 
 rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows, 
 opening to the ground, admitted a most refresh- 
 ing view of the high woody hills behind the house, 
 and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts 
 which were scattered over the intermediate lawn. 
 
 In this room they were received by Miss Darcy, 
 who was sitting there with Mrs. Hurst and Miss 
 Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in Lon- 
 don. Georgiana's reception of them was very civil, 
 but attended with all that embarrassment which, 
 though proceeding from shyness and the fear of do- 
 ing wrong, would easily give to those who felt them- 
 selves inferior the belief of her being proud and 
 
PEIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 113 
 
 reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her niece, however, 
 did her justice, and pitied her. 
 
 By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were 
 noticed only hy a courtesy; and on their being 
 seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must 
 always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was 
 first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agree- 
 able-looking woman, whose endeavor to introduce 
 some kind of discourse proved her to be more 
 truly well-bred than either of the others; and 
 between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional 
 help from Elizabeth, the conversation was carried 
 on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for cour- 
 age enough to join in it; and sometimes did 
 venture a short sentence, when there was least 
 danger of its being heard. 
 
 Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely 
 watched by Miss Bingley, and that she could 
 not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, with- 
 out calling her attention. This observation would 
 not have prevented her from trying to talk to 
 the latter, had they not been seated at an incon- 
 venient distance; but she was not sorry to be 
 spared the necessity of saying much: her own 
 thoughts were employing her. She expected every 
 moment that some of the gentlemen would enter 
 the room: she wished, she feared, that the master 
 of the house might be amongst them ; and whether 
 she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely 
 
 VOL. II. — 8 
 
114 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 determine. After sitting in this manner a quar- 
 ter of an hour without hearing Miss Bingley's 
 voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her 
 a cold inquiry after the health of her family. 
 She answered with equal indifference and brevity, 
 and the other said no more. 
 
 The next variation which their visit afforded 
 was produced by the entrance of servants with 
 cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest 
 fruits in season; but this did not take place till 
 after many a significant look and smile from 
 Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, 
 to remind her of her post. There was now em- 
 ployment for the whole party; for though they 
 could not all talk, they could all eat; and the 
 beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and 
 peaches soon collected them round the table. 
 
 While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair op- 
 portunity of deciding whether she most feared 
 or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by 
 the feelings which prevailed on his entering the 
 room; and then, though but a moment before 
 she had believed her wishes to predominate, she 
 began to regret that he came. 
 
 He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, 
 who with two or three other gentlemen from the 
 house was engaged by the river, and had left 
 him only on learning that the ladies of the family 
 intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. No 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 115 
 
 sooner did he appear, than Elizabeth wisely re- 
 solved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed, — 
 a resolution the more necessary to be made, but 
 perhaps not the more easily kept, because she 
 saw that the suspicions of the whole party were 
 awakened against them, and that there was scarcely 
 an eye which did not watch his behavior when 
 he first came into the room. In no countenance 
 was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in 
 Miss Bingley's, in spite of the smiles which over- 
 spread her face whenever she spoke to one of its 
 objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desper- 
 ate, and her attentions to Mr. Darcy were by no 
 means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother's en- 
 trance, exerted herself much more to talk; and 
 Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his sister 
 and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, as 
 much as possible, every attempt at conversation on 
 either side. Miss Bingley saw all this likewise; 
 and in the imprudence of anger, took the first 
 opportunity of saying, with sneering civility, — 
 
 ^^Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the shire mili- 
 tia removed from Meryton? They must be a great 
 loss to your family." 
 
 In Darcy 's presence she dared not mention 
 Wickham's name; but Elizabeth instantly com- 
 prehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts, 
 and the various recollections connected with him 
 gave her a moment's distress; but exerting her- 
 
116 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 self vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, 
 she presently answered the question in a tolerably 
 disengaged tone. While she spoke, an involun- 
 tary glance showed her Darcy with a heightened 
 complexion earnestly looking at her, and his 
 sister overcome with confusion, and unable to 
 lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what 
 pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she 
 undoubtedly would have refrained from the hint; 
 but she had merely intended to discompose Eliza- 
 beth, by bringing forward the idea of a man to 
 whom she believed her partial, to make her betray 
 a sensibility which might injure her in Darcy's 
 opinion, and perhaps to remind the latter of all 
 the follies and absurdities by which some part 
 of her family were connected with that corps. 
 Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss 
 Darcy's meditated elopement. To no creature had 
 it been revealed, where secrecy was possible, ex- 
 cept to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley's con- 
 nections her brother was particularly anxious to 
 conceal it, from that very wish which Elizabeth 
 had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming 
 hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such 
 a plan ; and without meaning that it should affect 
 his endeavor to separate him from Miss Bennet, 
 it is probable that it might add something to his 
 lively concern for the welfare of his friend. 
 
 Elizabeth's collected behavior, however, soon 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 117 
 
 quieted his emotion; and as Miss Bingley, vexed 
 and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to 
 Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, 
 though not enough to be able to speak any more. 
 Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely 
 recollected her interest in the affair; and the very 
 circumstance which had been designed to turn his 
 thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to have fixed 
 them on her more and more cheerfully. 
 
 Their visit did not continue long after the ques- 
 tion and answer above mentioned; and while Mr. 
 Darcy was attending them to their carriage, Miss 
 Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms 
 on Elizabeth's person, behavior, and dress. But 
 Georgiana would not join her. Her brother's 
 recommendation was enough to insure her favor: 
 his judgment could not err; and he had spoken in 
 such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana 
 without the power of finding her otherwise than 
 lovely and amiable. When Darcy returned to the 
 saloon. Miss Bingley could not help repeating to 
 him some part of what she had been saying to his 
 sister. 
 
 ^^How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morn- 
 ing, Mr. Darcy! " she cried. ^'I never in my life 
 saw any one so much altered as she is since the 
 winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! 
 Louisa and I were agreeing that we should no^ 
 Vave known her again." 
 
118 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such 
 an address, he contented himself with coolly re- 
 plying that he perceived no other alteration than 
 her being rather tanned, — no miraculous conse- 
 quence of travelling in the summer. 
 
 ^^For my own part,'' she rejoined, ^'I must 
 confess that I never could see any beauty in her. 
 Her face is too thin ; her complexion has no bril- 
 liancy, and her features are not at all handsome. 
 Her nose wants character ; there is nothing marked 
 in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out 
 of the common way; and as for her eyes, which 
 have sometimes been called so fine, I never could 
 perceive anything extraordinary in them. They 
 have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like 
 at all; and in her air altogether there is a self- 
 sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.'' 
 
 Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy ad- 
 mired Elizabeth, this was not the best method of 
 recommending herself; but angry people are not 
 always wise; and in seeing him at last look some- 
 what nettled, she had all the success she expected. 
 He was resolutely silent, however; and from a de- 
 termination of making him speak, she continued, — 
 
 ^^I remember, when we first knew her in Hert- 
 fordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she 
 was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect 
 your saying one night, after they had been dining 
 at Netherfield, ^ She a beauty ! I should as soon 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 119 
 
 call her mother a wit. ' But afterwards she seemed 
 to improve on you, and I believe you thought her 
 rather pretty at one time.'' 
 
 Yes," replied Darcy, who could contain him- 
 self no longer, ^^but that was only when I first 
 knew her; for it is many months since I have con- 
 sidered her as one of the handsomest women of my 
 acquaintance." 
 
 He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left 
 to all the satisfaction of having forced him to say 
 what gave no one any pain but herself. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that 
 had occurred during their visit as they returned, 
 except what had particularly interested them both. 
 The looks and behavior of everybody they had 
 seen were discussed, except of the person who had 
 mostly engaged their attention. They talked of 
 his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit, of 
 everything but himself; yet Elizabeth was long- 
 ing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of him, 
 and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly grati- 
 fied by her niece's beginning the subject. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in 
 not finding a letter from Jane on their first arrival 
 at Lambton, and this disappointment had been 
 renewed on each of the mornings that had now- 
 been spent there; but on the third her repining 
 was over, and her sister justified, by the receipt of 
 two letters from her at once, on one of which 
 was marked that it had been missent elsewhere. 
 Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as Jane had 
 written the direction remarkabl}^ ill. 
 
 They had just been preparing to walk as the 
 letters came in; and her uncle and aunt, leaving 
 her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by themselves. 
 The one missent must be first attended to; it had 
 been written five days ago. The beginning con- 
 tained an account of all their little parties and 
 engagements, with such news as the country 
 afforded; but the latter half, which was dated a 
 day later, and written in evident agitation, gave 
 more important intelligence. It was to this 
 effect : — 
 
 " Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has 
 occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature ; but 
 I am afraid of alarming you, — be assured that we are 
 
FRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 121 
 
 all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An 
 express came at twelve last night, just as we were all 
 gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she 
 was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers ; to own 
 the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. To 
 Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. 
 I am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both 
 sides ! But I am willing to hope the best, and that his 
 character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and in- 
 discreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and let 
 us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His 
 choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my 
 father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly 
 grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am 
 I that we never let them know what has been said against 
 him ; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Satur- 
 day night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not 
 missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was 
 sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have passed 
 within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason 
 to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his 
 wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, 
 for I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid 
 you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know 
 what I have written." 
 
 Without allowing herself time for consideration, 
 and scarcely knowing what she felt, Elizabeth, on 
 finishing this letter, instantly seized the other, 
 and opening it with the utmost impatience, read 
 as follows : it had been written a day later than 
 the conclusion of the first. 
 
 " By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my 
 hurried letter ; I wish this may be more intelligible, but 
 
X22 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 thougli not confined for time, my head is so bewildered 
 that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, 
 I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news 
 for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a mar- 
 riage between Mr. Wickham and our poor Lydia would 
 be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, 
 for thera is but too much reason to fear they are not gone 
 to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having 
 left Brighton the day before, not many hours after the 
 express. Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs. F. gave 
 them to understand that they were going to Gretna 
 Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his 
 belief that W. never intended to go there, or to marry 
 Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel F., who, in- 
 stantly taking the alarm, set off from B., intending to 
 trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, 
 but no farther ; for on entering that place, they removed 
 'nto a hackney-coach, and dismissed the chaise that 
 brought them from Epsom. All that is known after this 
 is that they were seen to continue the London road. I 
 know not what to think. After making every possible 
 inquiry on that side London, Colonel F. came on into 
 Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing them at all the turn- 
 pikes, and at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but with- 
 out any success, — no such people had been seen to pass 
 through. With the kindest concern he came on to Long- 
 bourn, and broke his apprehensions to us in a manner 
 most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely grieved for 
 him and Mrs. F, ; but no one can throw any blame on 
 them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My 
 father and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think 
 so ill of him. Many circumstances might make it more 
 eligible for them to be married privately in town than to 
 pursue their first plan ; and even if he could form such a 
 design against a young woman of Lydia's connections, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 123 
 
 which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to every- 
 thing? Impossible! T grieve to find, however, that 
 Colonel F. is not disposed to depend upon their mar- 
 riage ; he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, 
 and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My 
 poor mother is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she 
 exert herself, it would be better, but this is not to be ex- 
 pected ; and as to my father, I never in my life saw him 
 so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed 
 their attachment ; but as it was a matter of confidence, 
 one cannot wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, 
 that you have been spared something of these distressing 
 scenes ; but now, as the first shock is over, shall I own 
 that I long for your return? I am not so selfish, how- 
 ever, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu ! I take 
 up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would 
 not ; but circumstances are such that I cannot help ear- 
 nestly begging you all to come here as soon as possible. 
 I know my dear uncle and aunt so well that I am not 
 afraid of requesting it, though I have still something 
 more to ask of the former. My father is going to Lon- 
 don with Colonel Forster instantly, to try to discover 
 her. What he means to do, I am sure I know not ; but 
 his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any 
 measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster 
 is obliged to be at Brighton again to-morrow evening. In 
 such an exigence my uncle's advice and assistance would 
 be everything in the world ; he will immediately compre- 
 hend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness." 
 
 ^^Oh! where, where is my uncle?'' cried Eliza- 
 beth, darting from her seat as she finished the 
 letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing 
 a moment of the time so precious; but as she 
 
124 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 reached the door, it was opened by a servant, and 
 Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and impetu- 
 ous manner made him start, and before he could 
 recover himself enough to speak, she, in whose 
 mind every idea was superseded by Lydia's situa- 
 tion, hastily exclaimed: ^^I beg your pardon, but 
 I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this 
 moment on business that cannot be delayed; I 
 have not an instant to lose." 
 
 *^Good God! what is the matter?'' cried he, 
 with more feeling than politeness; then recollect- 
 ing himself, ^'I will not detain you a minute; 
 but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you 
 cannot go yourself.'' 
 
 Elizabeth hesitated; but her knees trembled 
 under her, and she felt how little would be gained 
 by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back 
 the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, 
 though in so breathless an accent as made her 
 almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and 
 mistress home instantly. 
 
 On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to 
 support herself, and looking so miserably ill that 
 it was impossible for Darcy to leave her, or to 
 refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and 
 commiseration: *^Let me call your maid. Is 
 there nothing you could take to give you present 
 relief? A glass of wine; shall T get you one? 
 You are very ill." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 125 
 
 "No, I thank you/' she replied, endeavoring 
 to recover herself. There is nothing the matter 
 with me. I am quite well, I am only distressed 
 by some dreadful news which I have just received 
 from Longbourn." 
 
 She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and 
 for a few minutes could not speak another word. 
 Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say some- 
 thing indistinctly of his concern, and observe her 
 in compassionate silence. At length she spoke 
 again: "I have just had a letter from Jane, with 
 such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from 
 any one. My youngest sister has left all her 
 friends, — has eloped; has thrown herself into the 
 power of — of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off 
 together from Brighton. You know him too well 
 to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connec- 
 tions, nothing that can tempt him to — She is 
 lost forever.'' 
 
 Darcy was fixed in astonishment. "When I 
 consider, '' she added in a yet more agitated voice, 
 "that I might have prevented it! I, who knew 
 what he was, — had I but explained some part of 
 it only, some part of what I learned, to my own 
 family ! Had his character been known, this 
 could not have happened. But it is all, all too 
 late now." 
 
 "I am grieved, indeed," cried Darcy; "grieved, 
 shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?" 
 
126 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^'Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on 
 Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, 
 but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to 
 Scotland/' 
 
 ^^And what has been done, what has been at- 
 tempted, to recover her?'' 
 
 " My father has gone to London, and Jane has 
 written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, 
 and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. 
 But nothing can be done ; I know very well that 
 nothing can be done. How is such a man to be 
 worked on? How are they even to be discovered? 
 I have not the smallest hope. It is every way 
 horrible! " 
 
 Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence. 
 When my eyes were open to his real character. 
 Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared to 
 do ! But I knew not, — I was afraid of doing too 
 much. Wretched, wretched mistake ! " 
 
 Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to 
 hear her, and was walking up and down the room 
 in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his 
 air gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and in- 
 stantly understood it. Her power was sinking; 
 everything must sink under such a proof of family 
 weakness, such an assurance of the deepest dis- 
 grace. She could neither wonder nor condemn; 
 but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing 
 consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 127 
 
 of her distress. It was, on the contrary, exactly 
 calculated to make her understand her own wishes ; 
 and never had she so honestly felt that she could 
 have loved him, as now, when all love must he 
 vain. 
 
 But self, though it would intrude, could not 
 engross her. Lydia — the humiliation, the mis- 
 ery she was hringing on them all — soon swal- 
 lowed up every private care; and covering her 
 face with her handkerchief, Elizabeth was soon 
 lost to everything else; and after a pause of sev- 
 eral minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her 
 situation by the voice of her companion, who in 
 a manner which, though it spoke compassion, 
 spoke likewise restraint, said: ^^I am afraid you 
 have been long desiring my absence, nor have I 
 anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real 
 though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven 
 that anything could be either said or done on my 
 part that might offer consolation to such distress. 
 But I will not torment you with vain wishes, 
 which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. 
 This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my 
 sister's having the pleasure of seeing you at Pem- 
 berley to-day.'' 
 
 "Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to 
 Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us 
 home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as 
 long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long." 
 
128 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 He readily assured her of his secrecy, again 
 expressed his sorrow for her distress, wished it a 
 happier conclusion than there was at present rea- 
 son to hope, and leaving his compliments for her 
 relations, with only one serious parting look, went 
 away. 
 
 As he quitted the room, Elizaheth felt how im- 
 prohahle it was that they should ever see each 
 other again on such terms of cordiality as had 
 marked their several meetings in Derhyshire; and 
 as she threw a retrospective glance over the whole 
 of their acquaintance, so full of contradictions and 
 varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those feel- 
 ings which would now have promoted its contin- 
 uance, and would formerly have rejoiced in its 
 termination. 
 
 If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of 
 affection, Elizabeth's change of sentiment will be 
 neither improbable nor faulty. But if otherwise, 
 if the regard springing from such sources is unrea- 
 sonable or unnatural, in comparison of what is so 
 often described as arising on a first interview with 
 its object, and even before two words have been 
 exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, 
 except that she had given somewhat of a trial to 
 the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham, 
 and that its ill success might, perhaps, authorize 
 her to seek the other less interesting mode of 
 attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him go 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 129 
 
 with regret; and in this early example of what 
 Lydia's infamy must produce, found additional 
 anguish as she reflected on that wretched busiifess. 
 Never since reading Jane's second letter had she 
 entertained a hope of Wickham's meaning to 
 marry her. No one hut Jane, she thought, could 
 flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise 
 was the least of all her feelings on this develop- 
 ment. While the contents of the first letter re- 
 mained on her mind, she was all surprise, all 
 astonishment, that Wickham should marry a girl 
 whom it was impossible he could marry for money; 
 and how Lydia could ever have attached him had 
 appeared incomprehensible. But now it was all 
 too natural. For such an attachment as this, she 
 might have sufficient charms; and though she did 
 not suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in 
 an elopement, without the intention of marriage, 
 she had no difficulty in believing that neither her 
 virtue nor her understanding would preserve her 
 from falling an easy prey. 
 
 She had never perceived, while the regiment 
 was in Hertfordshire, that Lydia had any par- 
 tiality for him; but she was convinced that Lydia 
 had wanted only encouragement to attach herself 
 to anybody. Sometimes one officer, sometimes an- 
 other, had been her favorite, as their attentions 
 raised them in her opinion. Her affections had 
 been continually fluctuating, but never without an 
 
 VOL. II. —9 
 
130 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 object. The mischief of neglect and mistaken in- 
 dulgence towards such a girl, — oh, how acutely 
 did she now feel it! 
 
 She was wild to be at home, — to hear, to see, to 
 be upon the spot to share with Jane in the cares 
 that must now fall wholly upon her, in a family so 
 deranged; a father absent, a mother incapable of 
 exertion, and requiring constant attendance; and 
 though almost persuaded that nothing could be 
 done for Lydia, her uncle's interference seemed of 
 the utmost importance, and till he entered the 
 room the misery of her impatience was severe. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, 
 supposing, by the servant's account, that their 
 niece was taken suddenly ill; but satisfying them 
 instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated 
 the cause of their summons, reading the two letters 
 aloud, and dwelling on the postscript of the last 
 with trembling energy, though Lydia fead never 
 been a favorite with them. Mr. and Mrs. Gardi- 
 ner could not but be deeply afflicted. Not Lydia 
 only, but all were concerned in it; and after the 
 first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. 
 Gardiner readily promised every assistance in 
 his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no less, 
 thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three 
 being actuated by one spirit, everything relating 
 to their journey was speedily settled. They were 
 to be off as soon as possible. '^But what is to be 
 
PRIDE AND rREJUDICE. 
 
 131 
 
 done about Pemberley? cried Mrs. Gardiner. 
 
 John told us Mr. Darcy was here when you sent 
 for us; was it so? " 
 
 Yes; and I told him we should not be able to 
 keep our engagement. That is all settled. 
 
 ^'What is all settled?" repeated the other, as 
 she ran into her room to prepare. And are they 
 upon such terms as for her to disclose the real 
 "truth? Oh that I knew how it was! 
 
 But wishes were vain, or at best could serve 
 only to amuse her in the hurry and confusion of 
 the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure 
 to be idle, she would have remained certain that 
 all employment was impossible to one so wretched 
 as herself; but she had her share of business as 
 well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were 
 notes to be written to all their friends at Lambton 
 with false excuses for their sudden departure. An 
 hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr. 
 Gardiner meanwhile having settled his account 
 at the inn, nothing remained to be done but to go; 
 and Elizabeth, after all the misery of the morning, 
 found herself, in a shorter space of time than she 
 could have supposed, seated in the carriage, and 
 on the road to Longbourn. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HAVE been thinking it over again, Elizabeth," 
 said her uncle, as they drove from the town; ^^and 
 really, upon serious consideration, I am much more 
 inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister 
 does of the matter. It appears to me so very un- 
 likely that any young man should form such a 
 design against a girl who is by no means unpro- 
 tected or friendless, and who was actually staying 
 in his Colonel's family, that I am strongly in- 
 clined to hope the best. Could he expect that her 
 friends would not step forward? Could he expect 
 to be noticed again by the regiment, after such an 
 affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is not 
 adequate to the risk.'' 
 
 ^^Do you really think so?" cried Elizabeth, 
 brightening up for a moment. 
 
 ^'Upon my word," said Mrs. Gardiner, 
 begin to be of your uncle's opinion. It is really 
 too great a violation of decency, honor, and in- 
 terest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think 
 so very ill of Wickham. Can you yourself, Lizzy, 
 so wholly give him up as to believe him capable 
 of it? '^ 
 
PRIDE AND TREJUDICE. 133 
 
 ^^Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest; 
 but of every other neglect I can believe him ca- 
 pable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare 
 not hope it. Why should they not go on to Scot- 
 land, if that had been the case? " 
 
 ''In the first place," replied Mr. Gardiner, 
 ''there is no absolute proof that they are not gone 
 to Scotland.'^ 
 
 " Oh, but their removing from the chaise into a 
 hackney coach is such a presumption! And, be- 
 sides, no traces of them were to be found on the 
 Barnet road.'' 
 
 "Well, then, supposing them to be in Lon- 
 don, they may be there, though for the purpose of 
 concealment, for no more exceptionable purpose. 
 It is not likely that money should be very abun- 
 dant on either side ; and it might strike them that 
 they could be more economically though less expedi- 
 tiously married in London than in Scotland.'' 
 
 "But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of 
 detection? Why must their marriage be private? 
 Oh, no, no, this is not likely. His most particular 
 friend, you see by Jane's account, was persuaded 
 of his never intending to marry her. Wickham 
 will never marry a woman without some money. 
 He cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia, 
 what attractions has she beyond youth, health, and 
 good-humor, that could make him for her sake 
 forego every chance of benefiting himself by marry- 
 
134 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ing well ! As to what restraint the apprehensions 
 of disgrace in the corps might throw on a dishonor- 
 able elopement with her, I am not able to judge ; 
 for I know nothing of the effects that such a step 
 might produce. But as to your other objection, I 
 am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no 
 brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, 
 from my father's behavior, from his indolence and 
 the little attention he has ever seemed to give to 
 what was going forward in his family, that he 
 would do as little and think as Lttle about it, as 
 any father could do, in such a matter." 
 
 ^^But can you think that Lydia is so lost to 
 everything but love of him, as to consent to live 
 with him on any other terms than marriage?" 
 
 ^^It does seem, and it is most shocking, in- 
 deed," replied Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes, 
 'Hhat a sister's sense of decency and virtue in 
 such a point should admit of doubt. But, really, 
 I know not what to say. Perhaps I am not doing 
 her justice. But she is very young : she has never 
 been taught to think on serious subjects; and for 
 the last half year, nay, for a twelvemonth, she has 
 been given up to nothing but amusement and 
 vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her 
 time in the most idle and frivolous manner, and to 
 adopt any opinions that came in her way. Since 
 
 the shire were first quartered in Meryton, 
 
 nothing but love, flirtation, and officers has been 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 135 
 
 in her head. She has been doing everything in her 
 power, by thinking and talking on the subject, to 
 give greater — what shall I call it? — susceptibility 
 to her feelings, which are naturally lively enough ; 
 and we all know that Wickham has every charm 
 of person and address that can captivate a woman." 
 
 ^^But you see that Jane," said her aunt, '^does 
 not think so ill of Wickham as to believe him 
 capable of the attempt." 
 
 Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who 
 is there, whatever might be their former conduct, 
 that she would believe capable of such an attempt, 
 till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, 
 as well as I do, what Wickham really is. We 
 both know that he has been profligate in every 
 sense of the word; that he has neither integrity 
 nor honor ; that he is as false and deceitful as he 
 is insinuating." 
 
 And do you really know all this? " cried Mrs. 
 Gardiner, whose curiosity as to the mode of her 
 intelligence was all alive. 
 
 ^^I do, indeed," replied Elizabeth, coloring. 
 ^^I tolci you the other day of his infamous be- 
 havior to Mr. Darcy; and you yourself, when last 
 at Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of 
 the man who had behaved with such forbearance 
 and liberality towards him. And there are other 
 circumstances which I am not at liberty — which 
 it is not worth while to relate; but his lies about 
 
136 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 the whole Pemberley family are endless. From 
 what he said of Miss Darcy, I was thoroughly pre- 
 pared to see a proud, reserved, disagreeable girl. 
 Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He must 
 know that she was as amiable and unpretending as 
 we have found her." 
 
 ^'But does Lydia know nothing of this; can she 
 be ignorant of what you and Jane seem so well to 
 understand? 
 
 Oh, yes! that — that is the worst of all. Till 
 I was in Kent, and saw so much both of Mr. Darcy 
 and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was igno- 
 rant of the truth myself. And when I returned 
 
 home the shire was to leave Meryton in a 
 
 week or fortnight's time. As that was the case, 
 neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I 
 thought it necessary to make our knowledge pub- 
 lic; for of what use could it apparently be to any 
 one, that the good opinion which all the neighbor- 
 hood had of him should then be overthrown? And 
 even when it was settled that Lydia should go 
 with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of opening her 
 eyes to his character never occurred to me. That 
 she could be in any danger from the deception 
 never entered my head. That such a consequence 
 as this should ensue, you may easily believe was 
 far enough from my thoughts." 
 
 When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, 
 you had no reason, I suppose, to believe them fond 
 of each other? 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 137 
 
 *^Not the slightest. I can remember no symp- 
 tom of affection on either side ; and had anything 
 of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware 
 that ours is not a family on which it could be 
 thrown away. When first he entered the corps, 
 she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all 
 were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of 
 her senses about him for the first two months: but 
 he never distinguished her by any particular atten- 
 tion ; and consequently, after a moderate period of 
 extravagant and wild admiration, her fancy for 
 him gave vvay, and others of the regiment, who 
 treated her with more distinction, again became 
 her favorites." 
 
 It may be easily believed that however little of 
 novelty could be added to their fears, hopes, and 
 conjectures on this interesting subject by its re- 
 peated discussion, no other could detain them from 
 it long, during the whole of the journey. From 
 Elizabeth's thoughts it was never absent. Fixed 
 there by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, 
 she could find no interval of ease or forgetfulness. 
 
 They travelled as expeditiously as possible; and 
 sleeping one night on the road, reached Longbourn 
 by dinner-time the next day. It was a comfort to 
 Elizabeth to consider that Jane could not have 
 been wearied by long expectations. 
 
 The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a 
 chaise, were standing on the steps of the house, as 
 
138 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 they entered the paddock; and when the carriage 
 drove up to the door, the joyful surprise that 
 lighted up their faces and displayed itself over 
 their whole bodies, in a variety of capers and 
 frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their 
 welcome. 
 
 Elizabeth jumped out; and after giving each of 
 them a hasty kiss, hurried into the vestibule, 
 where Jane, who came running downstairs from 
 her mother's apartment, immediately met her. 
 
 Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, 
 whilst tears filled the eyes of both, lost not a 
 moment in asking whether anything had been 
 heard of the fugitives. 
 
 ^'Not yet,'' replied Jane. ^^But now that my 
 dear uncle is come, I hope everything will be 
 well." 
 
 Is my father in town? " 
 
 ^^Yes; he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you 
 word." 
 
 And have you heard from him often? " 
 
 We have heard onl}'^ once. He wrote me a few 
 lines on Wednesday, to say that he had arrived in 
 safety, and to give me his directions, which I par- 
 ticularly begged him to do. He merely added 
 that he should not write again till he had some- 
 thing of importance to mention." 
 
 ^' And my mother, — how is she? How are you 
 all?'' 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 139 
 
 ''My mother is tolerably well, I trust, though 
 her spirits are greatly shaken. She is upstairs, and 
 will have great satisfaction in seeing you all. She 
 does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and 
 Kitty, thank Heaven! are quite well.'' 
 
 ''But you — how are you?" cried Elizabeth. 
 "You look pale. How much you must have gone 
 through! " 
 
 Her sister, however, assured her of her being 
 perfectly well; and their conversation, which had 
 been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were 
 engaged with their children, was now put an end 
 to by the approach of the whole party. Jane ran 
 to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and thanked 
 them both, with alternate smiles and tears. 
 
 When they were all in the drawing-room, the 
 questions which Elizabeth had already asked were 
 of course repeated by the others, and they soon 
 found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The 
 sanguine hope of good, however, which the benevo- 
 lence of her heart suggested, had not yet deserted 
 her; she still expected that it would all end well, 
 and that every morning would bring some letter, 
 either from Lydia or her father, to explain their 
 proceedings, and perhaps announce the marriage. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all re- 
 paired, after a few minutes' conversation together, 
 received them exactly as might be expected, — with 
 tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against 
 
140 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 the villanous conduct of Wickham, and complaints 
 of her own sufferings and ill-usage; blaming 
 everybody but the person to whose ill-judging 
 indulgence the errors of her daughter must be 
 principally owing. 
 
 ^^If I had been able," said she, ^'to carry my 
 point in going to Brighton with all my family, 
 this would not have happened ; but poor dear Lydia 
 had nobody to take care of her. Why did the 
 \Forsters ever let her go out of their sight? I am 
 sure there was some great neglect or other on their 
 side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a 
 thing, if she had been well looked after. I always 
 thought they were very unfit to have the charge of 
 her; but I was overruled, as I always am. Poor, 
 dear child! And now here 's Mr. Bennet gone 
 away, and I know he will fight Wickham, wher- 
 ever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and 
 what is to become of us all? The Collinses will 
 turn us out, before he is cold in his grave; and if 
 3^ou are not kind to us, brother, I do not know 
 what we shall do.'' 
 
 They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; 
 and Mr. Gardiner, after general assurances of his 
 affection for her and all her family, told her that 
 he meant to be in London the very next day, and 
 would assist Mr. Bennet in every endeavor for 
 recovering Lydia. 
 
 '^Do not give way to useless alarm," added he; 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 141 
 
 ''though it is right to be prepared for the worst, 
 there is no occasion to look on it as certain. It is 
 not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a 
 few days more we may gain some news of them; 
 and till we know that they are not married, and 
 have no design of marrying, do not let us give the 
 matter over as lost. As soon as I get to town, I 
 shall go to my brother, and make him come home 
 with me to Gracechurch Street, and then we may 
 consult together as to what is to be done.'' 
 
 *'0h, my dear brother," replied Mrs. Bennet, 
 that is exactly what I could most wish for. And 
 now do, when you get to town, find them out, 
 wherever they may be ; and if they are not married 
 already, make them marry. And as for wedding- 
 clothes, do not let them wait for that, but tell 
 Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses 
 to buy them, after they are married. And, above 
 all things, keep Mr. Bennet from fighting. Tell 
 him what a dreadful state I am in, — that I am 
 frightened out of my wits, and have such trem- 
 blings, such flutterings, all over me, such spasms 
 in my side and pains in my head, and such beat- 
 ings at heart, that I can get no rest by night nor 
 by day. And tell my dear Lydia not to give any 
 directions about her clothes till she has seen me, 
 for she does not know which are the best ware- 
 houses. Oh, brother, how kind you are ! I know 
 you will contrive it all." 
 
142 
 
 PEIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again 
 of his earnest endeavors in the cause, could not 
 avoid recommending moderation to her, as well in 
 her hopes as her fears ; and after talking with her 
 in this manner till dinner was on table, they left 
 her to vent all her feelings on the housekeeper, 
 who attended in the absence of her daughters. 
 
 Though her brother and sister were persuaded 
 that there was no real occasion for such a seclusion 
 from the family, they did not attempt to oppose 
 it, for they knew that she had not prudence enough 
 to hold her tongue before the servants, while they 
 waited at table, and judged it better that one only 
 of the household, and the one whom they could 
 most trust, should comprehend all her fears and 
 solicitude on the subject. 
 
 In the dining-room they were soon joined by 
 Mary and Kitty, who had been too busily engaged 
 in their separate apartments to make their appear- 
 ance before. One came from her books, and the 
 other from her toilette. The faces of both, however, 
 were tolerably calm; and no change was visible in 
 either, except that the loss of her favorite sister, 
 or the anger which she had herself incurred in the 
 business, had given something more of fretfulness 
 than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, 
 she was mistress enough of herself to whisper to 
 Elizabeth, with a countenance of grave reflection, 
 soon after they were seated at table, — 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 143 
 
 "This is a most unfortunate affair, and will 
 probably be much talked of; but we must stem the 
 tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms 
 of each other the balm of sisterly consolation/' 
 
 Then perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of 
 replying, she added: "Unhappy as the event must 
 be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful les- 
 son, — that loss of virtue in a female is irretriev- 
 able, that one false step involves her in endless 
 ruin, that her reputation is no less brittle than it 
 is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much 
 guarded in her behavior towards the undeserving 
 of the other sex/' 
 
 Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but 
 was too much oppressed to make any reply. Mary, 
 however, continued to console herself with such 
 kind of moral extractions from the evil before 
 them. 
 
 In the afternoon the two elder Miss Bennets 
 were able to be for half an hour by themselves; 
 and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of the op- 
 portunity of making any inquiries which Jane was 
 equally eager to satisfy. After joining in gen- 
 eral lamentations over the dreadful sequel of this 
 event, which Elizabeth considered as all but cer- 
 tain, and Miss Bennet could not assert to be 
 wholly impossible, the former continued the sub- 
 ject, by saying, "But tell me all and everything 
 about it which I have not already heard. Give 
 
144 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 me further particulars. What did Colonel Fors- 
 ter say? Had they no apprehension of anything 
 before the elopement took place? They must have 
 seen them together forever.'' 
 
 Colonel Forster did own that he had often sus- 
 pected some partiality, especially on Lydia's side, 
 but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so 
 grieved for him. His behavior was attentive and 
 kind to the utmost. He was coming to us, in 
 order to assure us of his concern, before he had 
 any idea of their not being gone to Scotland; when 
 that apprehension first got abroad, it hastened his 
 journey.'' 
 
 "And was Denny convinced that Wickham 
 would not marry? Did he know of their intend- 
 ing to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny 
 himself? " 
 
 "Yes; but when questioned by him Denny de- 
 nied knowing anything of their plan, and would 
 not give his real opinion about it. He did not 
 repeat his persuasion of their not marrying, and 
 from that I am inclined to hope he might have 
 been misunderstood before." 
 
 "And till Colonel Forster came himself, not 
 one of you entertained a doubt, I suppose, of their 
 being really married? " 
 
 "How was it possible that such an idea should 
 enter our brains? I felt a little uneasy, a little 
 fearful of my sister's happiness with him in mar- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 145 
 
 riage, because I knew that his conduct had not 
 been always quite right. My father and mother 
 knew nothing of that, they only felt how im- 
 prudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, 
 with a very natural triumph on knowing more 
 than the rest of us, that in Lydia's last letter she 
 had prepared her for such a step. She had known, 
 it seems, of their being in love with each other 
 many weeks." 
 
 "But not before they went to Brighton? " 
 
 "No, I believe not." 
 
 "And did Colonel Forster appear to think ill 
 of Wickham himself? Does he know his real 
 character? " 
 
 "I must confess that he did not speak so well 
 of Wickham as he formerly did. He believed him 
 to be imprudent and extravagant; and since this 
 sad affair has taken place, it is said that he left 
 Meryton greatly in debt : but I hope this may be 
 false." 
 
 "Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we 
 told what we knew of him, this could not have 
 happened! " 
 
 "Perhaps it would have been better," replied 
 her sister. 
 
 "But to expose the former faults of any person 
 without knowing what their present feelings were, 
 seemed unjustifiable." 
 
 "We acted with the best intentions.'' 
 
 VOL. II.— -10 
 
146 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars 
 of Lydia's note to his wife?'' 
 
 He brought it with him for us to see." 
 Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and 
 gave it to Elizabeth. These were the contents : 
 
 My dear Harriet, — You will laugh when you 
 know where I am gcone, and I cannot help laughing 
 myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as soon as I 
 am missed. I am going to Gretna Green; and if you 
 cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for 
 there is but one man in the world I love, and he is an 
 angel. I should never be happy without him, so think it 
 no harm to be off. You need not send them word at 
 Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will 
 make the surprise the greater when I write to them, and 
 sign my name Lydia Wickham. What a good joke it 
 will be ! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make 
 my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and 
 dancing with him to-night. Tell him 1 hope he will 
 excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance 
 with him at the next ball we meet with great pleasure. 
 I shall send for my clothes when I get to Longbourn ; 
 but I wish you would tell Sally to mend a great slit in 
 my worked muslin gown before they are packed up. 
 Good-by. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope 
 you will drink to our good journey. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 Lydia Bennet. 
 
 *^0h, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia! '' cried 
 Elizabeth, when she had finished it. What a 
 letter is this, to be written at such a moment! 
 But at least it shows that she was serious in the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 147 
 
 object of her journey. Wliatever he might after- 
 wards persuade her to, it was not on her side a 
 scheme of infamy. My poor father ! how he must 
 have felt it!" 
 
 I never saw any one so shocked. He could 
 not speak a word for full ten minutes. My mother 
 was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in 
 such confusion! " 
 
 ^^Oh, Jane,'' cried Elizabeth, 'Svas there, a 
 servant belonging to it who did not know the 
 whole story before the end of the day?" 
 
 ^^I do not know; I hope there was: but to be 
 guarded at such a time is very difficult. My 
 mother was in hysterics; and though I endeav- 
 ored to give her every assistance in my power, I 
 am afraid I did not do so much as I might have 
 done; but the horror of what might possibly 
 happen almost took from me my faculties." 
 
 Your attendance upon her has been too much 
 for you. You do not look well. Oh that I had 
 been with you! You have had ever}'- care and 
 anxiety upon yourself alone." 
 
 ''Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would 
 have shared in every fatigue, I am sure, but I did 
 not think it right for either of them. Kitty is 
 slight and delicate, and Mary studies so much 
 that her hours of repose should not be broken in 
 on. My aunt Philips came to Longbourn on 
 Tuesday, after my father went away, and was so 
 
148 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 good as to stay till Thursday with me. She was 
 of great use and comfort to us all, and Lady Lucas 
 has been very kind: she walked here on Wednes- 
 day morning to condole with us, and offered her 
 services or any of her daughters, if they could be 
 of use to us.'' 
 
 '^She had better have stayed at home," cried 
 Elizabeth; perhaps she meant well, but under 
 sijch a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little 
 of one's neighbors. Assistance is impossible; con- 
 dolence, insufferable. Let them triumph over us 
 at a distance, and be satisfied." 
 
 She then proceeded to inquire into the measures 
 which her father had intended to pursue, while in 
 town, for the recovery of his daughter. 
 
 '^He meant, I believe," replied Jane, ^'to go 
 to Epsom, the place where they last changed 
 horses, see the postilions, and try if anything 
 could be made out from them. His principal 
 object must be to discover the number of the hack- 
 ney coach which took them from Clapham. It 
 had come with a fare from London; and as he 
 thought the circumstance of a gentleman and ladj^'s 
 removing from one carriage" into another might be 
 remarked, he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. 
 If he could anyhow discover at what house the 
 coachman had before set down his fare, he deter- 
 mined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might 
 not be impossible to find out the stand and num- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 149 
 
 ber of the coach. I do not know of any other 
 designs that he had formed; but he was in such a 
 hurry to be gone, and his spirits so greatly dis- 
 composed, that I had difficulty in finding out even 
 so much as this.'* 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The whole party were in hopes of a letter from 
 Mr. Bennet the next morning, but the post came 
 in without bringing a single line from him. His 
 family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a 
 most negligent and dilatory correspondent; but at 
 such a time they had hoped for exertion. They 
 were forced to conclude that he had no pleasing 
 intelligence to send, but even of that they would 
 have been glad to be certain. Mr. Gardiner had 
 waited only for the letters before he set off. 
 
 When he was gone, they were certain at least 
 of receiving constant information of what was go- 
 ing on; and their uncle promised, at parting, to 
 prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn as 
 soon as he could, to the great consolation of his 
 sister, who considered it as the only security for 
 her husband's not being killed in a dael. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain 
 in Hertfordshire a few days longer, as the former 
 thought her presence might be serviceable to her 
 nieces. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. 
 Bennet, and was a great comfort to them in their 
 hours of freedom. Their other aunt also visited 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 151 
 
 them frequently, and always, as she said, with the 
 design of cheering and heartening them up, though, 
 as she never came without reporting some fresh 
 instance of Wickham's extravagance or irregu- 
 larity, she seldom went away without leaving them 
 more dispirited than she found them. 
 
 All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man 
 who, but three months before, had been almost an 
 angel of light. He was declared to be in debt to 
 every tradesman in the place; and his intrigues, 
 all honored with the title of seduction, had been 
 extended into every tradesman's family. Every- 
 body declared that he was the wickedest young 
 man in the world; and everybody began to find 
 out that they had always distrusted the appear- 
 ance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did 
 not credit above half of what was said, believed 
 enough to make her former assurance of her sis- 
 ter's ruin still more certain; and even Jane, who 
 believed still less of it, became almost hopeless, 
 more especially as the time w^as now come when, 
 if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never 
 before entirely despaired of, they must in all prob- 
 ability have gained some news of them. 
 
 Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on 
 Tuesday his wife received a letter from him: it 
 told them that on his arrival he had immediately 
 found out his brother, and persuaded him to come 
 to Gracechurch Street; that Mr. Bennet had 
 
152 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 been to Epsom and Clapham before his arrival, 
 but without gaining any satisfactory information; 
 and that he was now determined to inquire at all 
 the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet 
 thought it possible they might have gone to one 
 of them, on their first coming to London, before 
 they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself 
 did not expect any success from this measure; but 
 as his brother was eager in it, he meant to assist 
 him in pursuing it. He added that Mr. Bennet 
 seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave 
 London, and promised to write again very soon. 
 There was also a postscript to this effect: — 
 
 "I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to 
 find out, if possible, from some of the young man's inti- 
 mates in the regiment, whether Wickham has any rela- 
 tions or connections who would be likely to know in what 
 part of the town he has now concealed himself. If there 
 were any one that one could apply to, with a probability 
 of gaining such a clew as that, it might be of essential 
 consequence. At present we have nothing to guide us. 
 Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in his 
 power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, 
 perhaps Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now 
 living better than any other person." 
 
 Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from 
 whence this deference for her authority proceeded; 
 but it was not in her power to give any information 
 of so satisfactory a nature as the compliment 
 deserved. 
 
PRIDE AND P:HEJUDICE. 
 
 153 
 
 She had never heard of his having had any 
 relations, except a father and mother, both of 
 whom had been dead many years. It was possi- 
 ble, however, that some of his companions in the 
 
 shire might be able to give more information j 
 
 and though she was not very sanguine in expect- 
 ing it, the application was a something to look 
 forward to. 
 
 Every day at Longbourn was no'w a day of anxi- 
 ety; but the most anxious part of each was when 
 the post was expected. The arrival of letters was 
 the first grand object of every morning's impa- 
 tience. Through letters whatever of good or bad 
 was to be told would be communicated, and every 
 succeeding day was expected to bring some news 
 of importance. 
 
 But before they heard again from Mr. Gar- 
 diner, a letter arrived for their father from a 
 different quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as 
 Jane had received directions to open all that came 
 for him in his absence, she accordingly read; and 
 Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his letters 
 always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. 
 It was as follows : — 
 
 My dear Sir, — I feel myself called upon, by our re- 
 lationship and my situation in life, to condole with you on 
 the grievous affliction you are now suffering under, of 
 which we were yesterday informed by a letter from 
 Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Col- 
 lins and myself sincerely sympathize with you, and all 
 
154 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 your respectable family, in your present distress, which 
 must be of the bitterest kind, because proceeding from r« 
 cause which no time can remove. No arguments shall 
 be wanting on my part, that can alleviate so severe a 
 misfortune ; or that may comfort you, under a circum- 
 stance that must be, of all others, most afflicting to a 
 parent's mind. The death of your daughter would have 
 been a blessing in comparison of this. And it is the 
 more to be lamented, because there is reason to suppose, 
 as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness 
 of behavior in your daughter has proceeded from a faulty 
 degree of indulgence ; though, at the same time, for the 
 consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, I am inclined 
 to think that her own disposition must be naturally bad, 
 or she could not be guilty of such an enormity at so 
 early an age. Howsoever that may be, you are griev- 
 ously to be pitied, in which opinion I am not only joined 
 by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine and her 
 daughter, to whom I have related the affair. They agree 
 with me in apprehending that this false step in one 
 daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the 
 others ; for who, as Lady Catherine herself condescend- 
 ingly says, will connect themselves with such a family? 
 And this consideration leads me, moreover, to reflect, 
 with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event of last 
 November ; for had it been otherwise, I must have been 
 involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise 
 you, then, my dear sir, to console yourself as much as 
 possible, to throw off your unworthy child from your 
 affection forever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her 
 own heinous offence. 
 
 I am, dear sir, etc., etc. 
 
 Mr. Gardiner did not write again till he had 
 received an answer from Colonel Forsterj and 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 155 
 
 then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send. 
 It was not known that Wickham had a single 
 relation with whom he kept up any connection, 
 and it was certain that he had no near one living. 
 His former acquaintance had heen numerous; but 
 since he had been in the militia, it did not appear 
 that he was on terms of particular friendship with 
 any of them. There was no one, therefore, who 
 could be pointed out as likely to give any news of 
 him. And in the wretched state of his own 
 finances there was a very powerful motive for 
 secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery by 
 Lydia's relations; for it had just transpired that 
 he had left gaming debts behind him to a very 
 considerable amount. Colonel Forster believed 
 that more than a thousand pounds would be neces- 
 sary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed 
 a good deal in the town, but his debts of honor 
 were still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner did 
 not attempt to conceal these particulars from the 
 Longbourn family. Jane heard them with horror. 
 ^^A gamester!'' she cried. ^'This is wholly 
 unexpected; I had not an idea of it." 
 
 Mr. Gardiner added, in his letter, that they 
 might expect to see their father at home on the 
 following day, which was Saturday. Kendered 
 spiritless by the ill success of all their endeavors, he 
 had yielded to his brother-in-law's entreaty that 
 he would return to his family and leave it to him 
 
156 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 to do whatever occasion miglit suggest to be 
 advisable for continuing their pursuit. When 
 Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did not express 
 so much satisfaction as her children expected, con- 
 sidering what her anxiety for his life had been 
 before. 
 
 *^What! is he coming home, and without poor 
 Lydia? she cried. ^'Sure he will not leave 
 London before he has found them. Who is to 
 fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he 
 comes away? 
 
 As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, 
 it was settled that she and her children should go 
 to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet came 
 from it. The coach therefore took them the 
 first stage of their journey, and brought its master 
 back to Longbourn. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity 
 about Elizabeth and her Derbyshire friend that 
 had attended her from that part of the world. 
 His name had never been voluntarily mentioned 
 before them by her niece; and the kind of half- 
 expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of 
 their being followed by a letter from him, had 
 ended in nothing. Elizabeth had received none 
 since her return, that could come from Pemberley, 
 
 The present unhappy state of the family rendered 
 any other excuse for the lowness of her spirits un- 
 necessary; nothing therefore could be fairly con" 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 157 
 
 jectured from that, though Elizabeth, who was by 
 this time tolerably well acquainted with her own 
 feelings, was perfectly aware that had she known 
 nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread 
 of Lydia^s infamy somewhat better. It would 
 have spared her, she thought, one sleepless night 
 out of two. 
 
 When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the ap- 
 pearance of his usual philosophic composure. He 
 said as little as he had ever been in the habit of 
 saying, made no mention of the business that had 
 taken him away, and it was some time before his 
 daughters had courage to speak of it. 
 
 It was not till the afternoon, when he joined 
 them at tea, that Elizabeth ventured to introduce 
 the subject; and then, on her briefly expressing 
 her sorrow for what he must have endured, he re- 
 plied: **Say nothing of that. Who should suffer 
 but myself? It has been my own doing, and I 
 ought to feel it." 
 
 ^^You must not be too severe upon yourself/' 
 replied Elizabeth. 
 
 You may well warn me against such an evil. 
 Human nature is so prone to fall into it! No, 
 Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have 
 been to blame. I am not afraid of being over- 
 powered by the impression. It will pass away 
 soon enough." 
 
 <^Do you suppose them to be in London? " 
 
158 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Yes ; where else can they be so well concealed? ' 
 
 '^And Lydia used to want to go to London/' 
 added Kitty. 
 
 ^'She is happy, then/' said her father, dryly; 
 
 and her residence there will probably be of some 
 duration.'' 
 
 Then, after a short silence, he continued: 
 
 Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified 
 in your advice to me last May, which, considering 
 the event, shows some greatness of mind." 
 
 They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who 
 came to fetch her mother's tea. 
 
 ^^This is a parade," cried he, which does one 
 good; it gives such an elegance to misfortune! 
 Another day I will do the same; I will sit in 
 my library, in my nightcap and powdering-gown, 
 and give as much trouble as I can, — or perhaps I 
 may defer it till Kitty runs away." 
 
 am not going to run away, papa," said 
 Kitty, fretfully. ^'If I should ever go to Brigh- 
 ton, I would behave better than Lydia." 
 
 You go to Brighton! I would not trust you 
 so near it as East Bourne for fifty pounds! No, 
 Kitty, I have at least learned to be cautious, and 
 you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever 
 to enter my house again, nor even to pass through 
 the village. Balls will be absolutely prohibited, 
 unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And 
 you are never to stir out of doors till you can 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 159 
 
 prove that you have spent ten minutes of every 
 day in a rational manner/' 
 
 Kitty who took all these threats in a serious 
 light, hegan to cry. 
 
 ^^Well, well," said he, ''do not make yourself 
 unhappy. If you are a good girl for the next ten 
 years, I will take you to a review at the end of 
 them." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Two days after Mr. Bennet's return, as Jane and 
 Elizabeth were walking together in the shrubbery 
 behind the house, they saw the housekeeper coming 
 towards them, and concluding that she came to call 
 them to their mother, went forward to meet her; 
 but instead of the expected summons, when they 
 approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, *'Ibeg 
 your pardon, madam, for interrupting you, but 
 I was in hopes you might have got some good 
 news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to 
 ask." 
 
 **What do you mean. Hill? We have heard 
 nothing from town." 
 
 '^Dear madam," cried Mrs. Hill, in great as- 
 tonishment, don't you know there is an express 
 come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has 
 been here this half-hour, and master has had a 
 letter." 
 
 Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have 
 time for speech. They ran through the vesti- 
 bule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the 
 library. Their father was in neither; and they 
 were on the point of seeking him upstairs with 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 161 
 
 their mother, when they were met by the butler, 
 who said, — 
 
 ^'If you are looking for my master, ma'am, he 
 is walking towards the little copse/' 
 
 Upon this information, they instantly passed 
 through the hall once more, and ran across the 
 lawn after their father, who was deliberately pur- 
 suing his w^ay towards a small wood on one side 
 of the paddock. 
 
 Jane, who was not so light nor so much in the 
 habit of running as Elizabeth, soon lagged behind; 
 while her sister, panting for breath, came up with 
 him, and eagerl}^ cried out, — 
 
 Oh, papa, what news, what news? Have you 
 heard from my uncle?'' 
 
 Yes, I have had a letter from him by express." 
 Well, and what news does it bring, — good or 
 bad? " 
 
 ^^What is there of good to be expected?" said 
 he, taking the letter from his pocket; ^^but per- 
 haps you would like to read it." 
 
 Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. 
 Jane now came up. 
 
 *^Kead it aloud," said their father, ''for I 
 hardly know myself what it is about." 
 
 Gracechdrch Street, Monday, August 2. 
 My dear Brother, — At last I am able to send you 
 some tidings of my niece, and such as, upon the whole, I 
 hope will give you satisfaction. Soon after you left me 
 
 VOL. II. — 11 
 
162 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what 
 part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till 
 we meet. It is enough to know they are discovered : 
 I have seen them both — 
 
 ''Then it is as I always hoped," cried Jane: 
 ''they are married ! 
 Elizabeth read on : — 
 
 I have seen them both. They are not married, nor 
 can I find there was any intention of being so ; but if 
 you are willing to perform the engagements which I have 
 ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long 
 before they are. All that is required of you is to assure 
 to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five 
 thousand pounds secured among your children after the 
 decease of yourself and my sister ; and moreover to enter 
 into an engagement of allowing her, during your life, 
 one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions 
 which, considering everything, I had no hesitation in 
 complying with, as far as I thought myself privileged, for 
 you. I shall send this by express, that no time may be 
 lost in bringing me your answer. You will easily com- 
 prehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham's 
 circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally 
 believed to be. The world has been deceived in that re- 
 spect ; and I am happy to say there will be some little 
 money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle 
 on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I 
 conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act 
 in your name throughout the whole of this business, I 
 will immediately give directions to Haggerston for pre-^ 
 paring a proper settlement. There will not be the small- 
 est occasion for your coming to town again; therefore 
 stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on my diligence 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 163 
 
 and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can, 
 and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it 
 best that my niece should be married from this house, 
 of which I hope you will approve. She comes to us 
 to-day. I shall write again as soon as anything more is 
 determined on. 
 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 Edw. Gardiner. 
 
 ^^Is it possible?'' cried Elizabeth, when she 
 had finished. ^'Can it be possible that he will 
 marry her? " 
 
 ^^Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we 
 have thought him," said her sister. ^'My dear 
 father, I congratulate you." 
 
 ^^And have you answered the letter?" said 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 ^^No; but it must be done soon." 
 
 Most earnestly did she then entreat him to lose 
 no more time before he wrote. 
 
 ^^Oh, my dear father," she cried, '^come back 
 and write immediately. Consider how important 
 every moment is in such a case." 
 
 ^^Let me write for you," said Jane, '^if you 
 dislike the trouble yourself." 
 
 dislike it very much," he replied; ^^but it 
 must be done." 
 
 And so saying, he turned back with them, and 
 walked towards the house. 
 
 *'And may I ask?'' said Elizabeth; ^^but the 
 terms, I suppose, must be complied with." 
 
164 
 
 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^^Complied witli! I am only ashamed of his 
 asking so little/' 
 
 ^^And they must marry! Yet he is such a 
 man.'' 
 
 ^^Yes, yes, they must marry. There is noth- 
 ing else to be done. But there are two things 
 that I want very much to know, — one is, how 
 much money your uncle has laid down to bring 
 it about J and the other, how I am ever to pay 
 him." 
 
 Money! my uncle!" cried Jane; ^^what do 
 you mean, sir?" 
 
 ^^I mean that no man in his senses would marry 
 Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a 
 year during my life, and fifty after I am gone." 
 
 ^^That is very true," said Elizabeth; though 
 it had not occurred to me before. His debts to be 
 discharged, and something still to remain! Oh, 
 it must be my uncle's doings! Generous, good 
 man, I am afraid he has distressed himself. A 
 small sum could not do all this." 
 
 ^^No, " said her father. Wickham 's a fool if 
 he takes her with a farthing less than ten thou- 
 sand pounds : I should be sorry to think so ill of 
 him, in the very beginning of our relationship." 
 
 Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How 
 is half such a sum to be repaid? " 
 
 Mr. Bennet made no answer; and each of them, 
 deep in thought, continued silent till they reached 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 165 
 
 the house. Their father then went to the library 
 to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast- 
 room. 
 
 ''And they are really to be married!'' cried 
 Elizabeth, as soon as they were by themselves. 
 ''How strange this is! and for this we are to be 
 thankful. That they should marry, small as is 
 their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his 
 character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia ! '' 
 
 "I comfort myself with thinking,'' replied 
 Jane, "that he certainly would not marry Lydia 
 if he had not a real regard for her. Though our 
 kind uncle has done something towards clearing 
 him, I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, 
 or anything like it, has been advanced. He has 
 children of his own, and may have more. How 
 could he spare half ten thousand pounds?" 
 
 "If we are ever able to learn what Wickham's 
 debts have been," said Elizabeth, "and how much 
 is settled on his side on our sister, we shall ex- 
 actly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, 
 because Wickham has not sixpence of his own. 
 The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be 
 requited. Their taking her home, and affording 
 her their personal protection and countenance, is 
 such a sacrifice to her advantage as years of grati-* 
 tude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time 
 she is actually with them ! If such goodness does 
 not make her miserable now, she will never de- 
 
166 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 serve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when 
 she first sees my aunt! " 
 
 ^^We must endeavor to forget all that has 
 passed on either side,'^ said Jane. I hope and 
 trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to 
 marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is 
 come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual 
 affection will steady them; and I flatter myself 
 they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational 
 a manner, as may in time make their past impru- 
 dence forgotten. 
 
 Their conduct has been such,'' replied Eliza- 
 beth, ^^as neither you nor I nor anybody can 
 ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.'' 
 
 It now occurred to the girls that their mother 
 was in all likelihood perfectly ignorant of what 
 had happened. They went to the library, there- 
 fore, and asked their father whether he would not 
 wish them to make it known to her. He was 
 writing, and without raising his head, coolly 
 replied, — 
 
 Just as you please." 
 
 ^^May we take my uncle's letter to read to 
 her?'' 
 
 ^^Take whatever you like, and get away." 
 
 Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, 
 and they went upstairs together. Mary and 
 Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: one com- 
 munication would therefore do for all. After 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 167 
 
 a slight preparation for good news, the letter was 
 read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain 
 herself. As soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner's 
 hope of Lydia's being soon married, her joy hurst 
 forth, and every following sentence added to its 
 exuberance. She was now in an irritation as 
 violent from delight as she had ever been fidgety 
 from alarm and vexation. To know that her 
 daughter would be married was enough. She 
 was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor 
 humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct. 
 
 ^^My dear, dear Lydia! '' she cried; ^'this is 
 delightful indeed! She will be married! I shall 
 see her again! She will be married at sixteen! 
 My good, kind brother! I knew how it would 
 be, — I knew he would manage everything. How 
 I long to see her, and to see dear Wickham too ! 
 But the clothes, the wedding-clothes! I will 
 write to my sister Gardiner about them directly. 
 Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask 
 him how much he will give her. Stay, staj^, I 
 will go myself. King the bell, Kitty, for Hill. 
 I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, 
 dear Lydia! How merry we shall be together 
 when we meet ! " 
 
 Her eldest daughter endeavored to give some 
 relief to the violence of these transports, by lead- 
 ing her thoughts to the obligations which Mr. 
 Gardiner's behavior laid them all under. 
 
168 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 *^For we must attribute this happy conclusion,'* 
 she added, ^'in a, great measure to his kindness. 
 We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to 
 assist Mr. Wickham with money." 
 
 ^^Well, cried her mother, *^it is all very 
 right; who should do it but her own uncle? If 
 he had not had a family of his own, I and my 
 children must have had all his money, you know; 
 and it is the first time we have ever had anything 
 from him except a few presents. Well! I am so 
 happy. In a short time I shall have a daughter 
 married. Mrs. Wickham! How well it sounds! 
 And she was only sixteen last June. My dear 
 Jane, I am in such a flutter that I am sure I 
 can't write; so I will dictate, and you write for 
 me. We will settle with your father about the 
 money afterwards; but the things should be 
 ordered immediately." 
 
 She was then proceeding to all the particulars 
 of calico, muslin, and cambric, and would shortly 
 have dictated some very plentiful orders, had not 
 Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her 
 to wait till her father was at leisure to be con- 
 sulted. One day's delay, she observed, would be 
 of small importance; and her mother was too 
 happy to be quite so obstinate as usual. Other 
 schemes, too, came into her head. 
 
 <^I will go to Meryton," said she, ^^as soon as 
 I am dressed, and tell the good, good news to my 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 169 
 
 sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call 
 on Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down 
 and order the carriage. An airing would do me 
 a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do 
 anything for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes 
 Hill. My dear Hill, have you heard the good 
 news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; a»d 
 you shall all have a bowl of punch to make merry 
 at her wedding.'' 
 
 Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. 
 Elizabeth received her congratulations amongst 
 the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took refuge 
 in her own room, that she might think with free- 
 dom. Poor Lydia's situation must, at best, be 
 bad enough; but that it was no worse, she had 
 need to be thankful. She felt it so ; and though, 
 in looking forward, neither rational happiness nor 
 worldly prosperity could be justly expected for 
 her sister, in looking back to what they had 
 feared only two hours ago, she felt all the ad- 
 vantages of what they had gained. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this 
 period of his life, that instead of spending his 
 whole income he had laid by an annual sum, 
 for the better provision of his children, and of 
 his wife, if she survived him. He now wished 
 it more than ever. Had he done his duty in 
 that respect, Lydia need not have been indebted 
 to her uncle for whatever of honor or credit could 
 now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of 
 |3revailing on one of the most worthless young 
 men in Great Britain to be her husband might 
 "*;hen have rested in its proper place. 
 
 He was seriously concerned that a cause of so 
 little advantage to any one should be forwarded 
 at the sole expense of his brother-in-law; and 
 he was determined, if possible, to find out the 
 extent of his assistance, and to discharge the 
 obligation as soon as he could. 
 
 When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy 
 was held to be perfectly useless ; for, of course, 
 they were to have a son. This son was to join 
 in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should 
 be of age; and the widow and younger children 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 171 
 
 would by that means be provided for. Five 
 daughters successively entered the world, but yet 
 the son was to come; and Mrs. Bennet, for many 
 years after Lydia's birth, had been certain that 
 he would. This event had at last been despaired 
 of; but it was then too late to be saving. Mrs. 
 Bennet had no turn for economy; and her hus- 
 band's love of independence had alone prevented 
 their exceeding their income. 
 
 Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage 
 articles on Mrs. Bennet and the children. But 
 in what proportions it should be divided amongst 
 the latter depended on the will of the parents. 
 This was one point, with regard to Lydia at 
 least, which was now to be settled; and Mr. 
 Bennet could have no hesitation in acceding to 
 the proposal before him. In terms of grateful 
 acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, 
 though expressed most concisely, he then de- 
 livered on paper his perfect approbation of all 
 that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the 
 engagements that had been made for him. He 
 had never before supposed that, could Wickham 
 be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would 
 be done with so little inconvenience to himself as 
 by the present arrangement. He would scarcely 
 be ten pounds a year the loser, by the hundred 
 that was to be paid them; for, what with her 
 board and pocket allowance, and the continual 
 
172 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 presents in money wliich passed to her through 
 her mother's hands, Lydia's expenses had heen 
 very little within that sum. 
 
 That it would be done with such trifling ex- 
 ertion on his side, too, was another very welcome 
 surprise; for his chief wish at present was to 
 have as little trouble in the business as possible. 
 When the first transports of rage which had pro- 
 duced his activity in seeking her were over, he 
 naturally returned to all his former indolence. 
 His letter was soon despatched; for though dila- 
 tory in undertaking business, he was quick in its 
 execution. He begged to know further particulars 
 of what he was indebted to his brother, but was too 
 angry with Lydia to send any message to her. 
 
 The good news quickly spread through the 
 house, and with proportionate speed through the 
 neighborhood. It was borne in the latter with 
 decent philosophy. To be sure, it would have 
 been more for the advantage of conversation, had 
 Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town, or, as 
 the happiest alternative, been secluded from the 
 world, in some distant farm-house. But there 
 was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and 
 the good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which 
 had proceeded before from all the spiteful old 
 ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit 
 in this change of circumstances, because with such 
 a husband her misery was vonsidered certain. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 173 
 
 It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been 
 downstairs, but on this happy day she again took 
 her seat at the head of her table, and in spirits 
 oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a 
 damp to her triumph. The marriage of a daughter, 
 which had been the first object of her wishes since 
 Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of accom- 
 plishment; and her thoughts and her words ran 
 wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials, 
 fine muslins, new carriages, and servants. She 
 was busily searching through the neighborhood for 
 a proper situation for her daughter; and without 
 knowing or considering what their income might be, 
 rejected many as deficient in size and importance. 
 
 *^Haye Park might do,'' said she, '^if the 
 Gouldings would quit it, or the great house at 
 Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ash- 
 worth is too far off. I could not bear to have her 
 ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the 
 attics are dreadful.'' 
 
 Her husband allowed her to talk on without in- 
 terruption while the servants remained. But when 
 they had withdrawn, he said to her: ^^Mrs. Ben- 
 net, before you take any or all of these houses for 
 your son and daughter, let us come to a right un- 
 derstanding. Into one house in this neighborhood 
 they shall never have admittance. I will not en- 
 courage the imprudence of either, by receiving them 
 at Longbourn." 
 
174 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 A long dispute followed this declaration; "but 
 Mr. Bennet was firm. It soon led to another; and 
 Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror, 
 that her husband would not advance a guinea to 
 buy clothes for his daughter. He protested that 
 she should receive from him no mark of affection 
 whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could 
 hardly comprehend it. That his anger could be 
 carried to such a point of inconceivable resentment 
 as to refuse his daughter a privilege without 
 which her marriage would scarcely seem valid, ex- 
 ceeded all that she could believe possible. She was 
 more alive to the disgrace which her want of new 
 clothes must reflect on her daughter's nuptials, 
 than to any sense of shame at her eloping and liv- 
 ing with Wickham a fortnight before they took 
 place. 
 
 Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she 
 had, from the distress of the moment, been led to 
 make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for 
 her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly 
 give the proper termination to the elopement, they 
 might hope to conceal its unfavorable beginning 
 from all those who were not immediately on the 
 spot. 
 
 She had no fear of its spreading farther through 
 his means. There were few people on whose se- 
 crecy she would have more confidently depended; 
 but at the same time there was no one whose 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 175 
 
 knowledge of a sister's frailty would have mortified 
 her so much. Not, however, from auy fear of dis- 
 advantage from it individually to herself; for at 
 any rate there seemed a gulf impassable between 
 them. Had Lydia's marriage been concluded on 
 the most honorable terms, it was not to be sup- 
 posed that Mr. Darcy would connect himself with 
 a family where to every other objection would 
 now be added an alliance and relationship of the 
 nearest kind with the man whom he so justly 
 scorned. 
 
 From such a connection she could not wonder 
 that he should shrink. The wish of procuring her 
 regard, which she had assured herself of his feel- 
 ing in Derbyshire, could not in rational expec- 
 tation survive such a blow as this. She was 
 humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though 
 she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of 
 his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be 
 "benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when 
 there seemed the least chance of gaining intelli- 
 gence. She was convinced that she could have 
 been happy with him, when it was no longer 
 likely they should meet. 
 
 What a triumph for him, as she often thought, 
 could he know that the proposals which she had 
 proudly spurned only four months ago would now 
 have been gladly and gratefully received! He was 
 as generous, she doubted not, as the most generous 
 
176 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 of his sex. But while lie was mortal, there must 
 be a triumph. 
 
 She began now to comprehend that he was 
 exactly the man who in disposition and talents 
 would most suit her. His understanding and tem- 
 per, though unlike her own, would have answered 
 all her wishes. It was an union that must have 
 been to the advantage of both: by her ease and 
 liveliness his mind might have been softened, his 
 manners improved; and from his judgment, infor- 
 mation, and knowledge of the world she must 
 have received benefit of greater importance. 
 
 But no such happy marriage could now teach the 
 admiring multitude what connubial felicity really 
 was. An union of a different tendency, and pre- 
 cluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be 
 formed in their family. 
 
 How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported 
 in tolerable independence she could not imagine. 
 But how little of permanent happiness could be- 
 long to a couple who were only brought together 
 because their passions were stronger than their 
 virtue, she could easily conjecture. 
 
 Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. 
 To Mr. Bennet's acknowledgments he briefly re- 
 plied, with assurances of his eagerness to promote 
 the welfare of any of his family; and concluded 
 with entreaties that the subject might never be 
 mentioned to him again. The principal purport 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 177 
 
 of his letter was to inform them that Mr. 
 Wickham had resolved on quitting the militia. 
 
 " It was greatly my wish that he should do so," he 
 added, "as soon as his marriage was fixed on. And I 
 think you will agree with me, in considering a removal 
 from that corps as highly advisable, both on his account 
 and my niece's. It is Mr. Wickham's intention to go into 
 the Regulars ; and among his former friends there are 
 still some who are able and willing to assist him in the 
 army. He has the promise of an ensigncy in General 
 
 's regiment, now quartered in the north. It is an 
 
 advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. 
 He promises fairly ; and I hope among different people, 
 where they may each have a character to preserve, they 
 will both be more prudent. I have written to Colonel 
 Forster to inform him of our present arrangements, and 
 to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. 
 Wickham in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy 
 payment, for which I have pledged myself. And will you 
 give yourself the trouble of carrying similar assurances to 
 his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin a list, 
 according to his information. He has given in all his 
 debts ; I hope at least he has not deceived us. Hagger- 
 8 ton has our directions, and all will be completed in a 
 week. They will then join his regiment, unless they are 
 first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs. 
 Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all 
 before she leaves the south. She is well, and begs to be 
 dutifully remembered to you and her mother. 
 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 " E. Gardiner.*' 
 
 Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advan- 
 tages of Wickham's removal from the shire, 
 
 VOL. n. — 12 
 
178 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But Mrs. 
 Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia's 
 being settled in the north, just when she had 
 expected most pleasure and pride in her com- 
 pany, for she had by no means given up her plan 
 of their residing in Hertfordshire, was a severe 
 disappointment; and, besides, it was such a pity 
 that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where 
 she was acquainted with everybody, and had so 
 many favorites. 
 
 She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,'' said she, it 
 will be quite shocking to send her away! And 
 there are several of the young men, too, that she 
 likes very much. The officers may not be so 
 
 pleasant in General 's regiment." 
 
 His daughter's request, for such it might be 
 considered, of being admitted into her family 
 again, before she set off for the north, received at 
 first an absolute negative. But Jane and Eliza- 
 beth, who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their 
 sister's feelings and consequence, that she should 
 be noticed on her marriage by her parents, urged 
 him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, 
 to receive her and her husband at Longbourn as 
 soon as they were married, that he was prevailed 
 on to think as they thought, and act as they 
 wished. And their mother had the satisfaction of 
 knowing that she should be able to show her 
 married daughter in the neighborhood, before she 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 179 
 
 was banished to the north. When Mr. Bennet 
 wrote again to his brother, therefore, he sent his 
 permission for them to come; and it was settled 
 that as soon as the ceremony was over, they 
 should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth was sur- 
 prised, however, that Wickham should consent to 
 such a scheme; and had she consulted only her 
 own inclination, any meeting with him would 
 have been the last object of her wiohes. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Their sister's wedding-day arrived; and Jane and 
 Elizabeth felt for her probably more than she felt 
 for herself. The carriage was sent to meet them 
 at , and they were to return in it by dinner- 
 time. Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss 
 Bennets; and Jane more especially, who gave 
 Lydia the feelings which would have attended her- 
 self, had she been the culprit, and was wretched 
 in the thought of what her sister must endure. 
 
 They came. The family were assembled in the 
 breakfast-room to receive them. Smiles decked 
 the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up 
 to the door; her husband looked impenetrably 
 grave; her daughters, alarmed, anxious, uneasy. 
 
 Lydia's voice was heard in the vestibule; the 
 door was thrown open, and she ran into the room. 
 Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and 
 welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand with 
 an affectionate smile to Wickham, who followed 
 his lady, and wished them both joy, with an alac- 
 rity which showed no doubt of their happiness. 
 
 Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom 
 they then turned, was not quite so cordial. Hia 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 181 
 
 countenance rather gained in austerity, and he 
 scarcely opened his lips. The easy assurance of 
 the young couple, indeed, was enough to provoke 
 him. Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss 
 Bennet was shocked. Lydia was Lydia still; un- 
 tamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She 
 turned from sister to sister, demanding their con- 
 gratulations ; and when at length they all sat 
 down, looked eagerly round the room, took notice 
 of some little alteration in it, and observed, with 
 a laugh, that it was a great while since she had 
 been there. 
 
 Wickham was not at all more distressed than 
 herself; but his manners were always so pleasing 
 that had his character and his marriage been ex- 
 actly what they ought, his smiles and his easy 
 address, while he claimed their relationship, would 
 have delighted them all. Elizabeth had not before 
 believed him quite equal to such assurance; but 
 she sat down, resolving within herself to draw no 
 limits in future to the impudence of an impudent 
 man. She blushed, and Jane blushed; but the 
 cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suf- 
 fered no variation of color. 
 
 There was no want of discourse. The bride and 
 her mother could neither of them talk fast enough; 
 and Wickham, who happened to sit near Elizabeth, 
 began inquiring after his acquaintance in that 
 neighborhood with a good-humored ease which 
 
182 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 she felt very unable to equal in her replies. They 
 seemed each of them to have the happiest memories 
 in the world. Nothing of the past was recollected 
 with pain; and Lydia led voluntarily to subjects 
 which her sisters would not have alluded to for 
 the world. 
 
 *^Only think of its being three months/' she 
 cried, since I went away: it seems but a fort- 
 night, I declare; and yet there have been things 
 enough happened in the time. Good gracious! 
 when I went away, I am sure I had no more 
 idea of being married till I came back again! 
 though I thought it would be very good fun if I 
 was.'' 
 
 Her father lifted up his eyes, Jane was dis- 
 tressed, Elizabeth looked expressively at Lydia; 
 but she, who never heard nor saw anything of 
 which she chose to be insensible, gayly continued : 
 
 Oh, mamma, do the people hereabouts know I 
 am married to-day? I was afraid they might not; 
 and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle, 
 so I was determined he should know it, and so I 
 let down the side glass next to him, and took off 
 my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the win- 
 dow-frame, so that he might see the ring, and then 
 I bowed and smiled like anything." 
 
 Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up 
 and ran out of the room; and returned no more 
 till she heard them passing through the hall to the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 183 
 
 dining-parlor. She then joined them soon enough 
 to see Lydia, with anxious parade, walk up to her 
 mother's right hand, and hear her say to her 
 eldest sister, Ah, Jane, I take your place now, 
 and you must go lower, because I am a married 
 woman." 
 
 It was not to be supposed that time would give 
 Lydia that embarrassment from which she had 
 been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good 
 spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, 
 the Lucases, and all their other neighbors, and to 
 hear herself called ''Mrs. Wickham^' by each of 
 fchemj and in the mean time she went after dinner 
 to show her ring and boast of being married to 
 Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids. 
 
 ''Well, mamma," said she, when they were all 
 returned to the breakfast-room, ' ' and what do you 
 think of my husband? Is not he a charming man? 
 I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only 
 hope they may have half my good luck. They 
 must all go to Brighton. That is the place to get 
 husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not 
 all go! 
 
 "Very true; and if I had my will, we should. 
 But, my dear Lydia, I don't at all like your going 
 such a way off. Must it be so? 
 
 "Oh, Lord! yes; there is nothing in that. I 
 shall like it of all things. You and papa and my 
 sisters must come down and see us. We shall be 
 
184 
 
 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 at Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there 
 will he some halls, and I will take care to get good 
 partners for them all.'' 
 
 should like it heyond anything! " said her 
 mother. 
 
 ^^And then when you go away, you may leave 
 one or two of my sisters hehind you; and I dare 
 say I shall get hushands for them hefore the winter 
 is over." 
 
 ^^I thank you for my share of the favor," said 
 Elizabeth ; ^^but I do not particularly like your 
 way of getting hushands." 
 
 Their visitors were not to remain above ten days 
 with them. Mr. Wickham had received his com- 
 mission before he left London, and he was to join 
 his regiment at the end of a fortnight. 
 
 No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their 
 stay would be so short; and she made the most of 
 the time by visiting about with her daughter, and 
 having very frequent parties at home. These 
 parties were acceptable to all; to avoid a family 
 circle was even more desirable to such as did think 
 than such as did not. 
 
 Wickham's affection for Lydia was just what 
 Elizabeth had expected to find it, — not equal to 
 Lydia's for him. She had scarcely needed her 
 present observation to be satisfied, from the reason 
 of things, that their elopement had been brought 
 on by the strength of her love rather than by hisj 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 185 
 
 and she would have wondered why, without vio- 
 lently caring for her, he chose to elope with her 
 at all, had she not felt certain that his flight was 
 rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; 
 and if that were the case, he was not the 
 young man to resist an opportunity of having a 
 companion. 
 
 Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was 
 her dear Wickham on every occasion; no one was 
 to be put in competition with him. He did every- 
 thing best in the world; and she was sure he 
 would kill more birds on the first of September 
 than anybody else in the country. 
 
 One morning, soon after their arrival, as she 
 was sitting with her two elder sisters, she said to 
 Elizabeth, — 
 
 Lizzy, I never gave you an account of my 
 wedding, I believe. You were not by, when I 
 told mamma and the others all about it. Are 
 not you curious to hear how it was managed? 
 
 ^'Ko, really,'' replied Elizabeth; think 
 there cannot be too little said on the subject." 
 
 *^La! You are so strange! But I must tell you 
 how it went off. We were married, you know, at 
 St. Clement's, because Wickham's lodgings were 
 in that parish. And it was settled that we should 
 all be there by eleven o'clock. My uncle and 
 aunt and I were to go together; and the others 
 were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday 
 
186 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was 
 so afraid, you know, that something would happen 
 to put it off, and then I should have gone quite 
 distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time 
 I was dressing, preaching and talking away just as 
 if she was reading a sermon. However, I did not 
 hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking, 
 you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed 
 to know whether he would be married in his blue 
 coat. 
 
 Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: 
 I thought it would never be over; for by the by 
 you are to understand that my uncle and aunt 
 were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with 
 them. If you '11 believe me, I did not once put 
 my foot out of doors, though I was there a fort- 
 night. Not one party or scheme, or anything. 
 To be sure, London was rather thin ; but, however, 
 the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so just 
 as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was 
 called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. 
 Stone. And then, you know, when once they get 
 together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so 
 frightened I did not know what to do, for my 
 uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond 
 the hour we could not be married all day. But, 
 luckily, he came back again in ten minutes' time, 
 and then we all set out. However, I recollected 
 afterwards, that if he had been prevented going. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 187 
 
 the wedding need not "be put off, for Mr. Darcy 
 might have done as well.'' 
 
 '^Mr. Darcy!'' repeated Elizabeth, in utter 
 amazement. 
 
 *'0h, yes! he was to come there with Wickham, 
 you know. But, gracious me ! I quite forgot ! I 
 ouglit not to have said a word about it. I prom- 
 ised them so faithfully! What will Wickham 
 say? It was to be such a secret! " 
 
 If it was to be a secret," said Jane, say not 
 another word on the subject. You may depend 
 upon my seeking no further." 
 
 ^'Oh, certainly," said Elizabeth, though burning 
 with curiosity; ^^we will ask you no questions." 
 
 Thank you," said Lydia; ^'for if you did, I 
 should certainly tell you all, and then Wickham 
 would be so angry." 
 
 On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was 
 forced to put it out of her power, by running 
 away. 
 
 But to live in ignorance on such a point was im- 
 possible; or at least it was impossible not to try 
 for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her sis- 
 ter's wedding. It was exactly a scene, and ex- 
 actly among people, where he had apparently least 
 to do, and least temptation to go. Conjectures as 
 to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into 
 her brain, but she was satisfied with none. Those 
 that best pleased her, as placing his conduct in 
 
188 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She 
 could not bear such suspense ; and hastily seizing 
 a sheet of paper, wrote a short letter to her aunt, 
 to request an explanation of what Lydia had 
 dropped, if it were compatible with the secrecy 
 which had been intended. 
 
 " You may readily comprehend," she added, " what 
 my curiosity must be to know how a person unconnected 
 with any of us, and, comparatively speaking, a stranger 
 to our family, should have been amongst you at such a 
 time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it, — 
 unless it is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the 
 secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary ; and then 
 I must endeavor to be satisfied with ignorance." 
 
 "Not that I shall, though," she added to her- 
 self, as she finished the letter; "and, my dear 
 aunt, if you do not tell me in an honorable man- 
 ner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and 
 stratagems to find it out." 
 
 Jane's delicate sense of honor would not allow 
 her to speak to Elizabeth privately of what Lydia 
 had let fall. Elizabeth was glad of it; till 
 it appeared whether her inquiries would receive 
 any satisfaction, she had rather be without a 
 confidante. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an 
 answer to her letter as soon as she possibly could. 
 She was no sooner in possession of it, than hurry- 
 ing into the little copse, where she was least likely 
 to be interrupted, she sat down on one of the 
 benches, and prepared to be happy ; for the length 
 of the letter convinced her that it did not contain 
 a denial. 
 
 Gracechurch Street, Sept. 6. 
 My dear Niece, — I have just received your let- 
 ter, and shall devote this whole morning to answering it, 
 as I foresee that a little writing will not comprise what I 
 have to tell you. I must confess myself surprised by 
 your application ; I did not expect it from you. Don't 
 think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you 
 know that I had not imagined such inquiries to be neces- 
 sary on your side. If you do not choose to understand 
 me, forgive my impertinence. Your uncle is as much 
 surprised as I am; and nothing but the belief of your 
 being a party concerned would have allowed him to act 
 as he has done. But if you are really innocent and igno- 
 rant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my 
 coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most un- 
 expected visitor. Mr. Darcy called, and was shut up 
 with him several hours. It was all over before I ar- 
 rived ; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked as 
 
190 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 yours seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gar- 
 diner that he had found out where your sister and Mr. 
 Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with 
 them both, — Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. From 
 what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after 
 ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunt- 
 ing for them. The motive professed was his conviction 
 of its being owing to himself that Wickham's worthless- 
 ness had not been so well known as to make it impossible 
 for any young woman of character to love or confide in 
 him. Pie generously imputed the whole to his mistaken 
 pride, and confessed that he had before thought it be- 
 neath him to lay his private actions open to the world. 
 His character was to speak for itself. He called it, 
 therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavor to rem- 
 edy an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he 
 had another motive, I am sure it would never disgrace 
 him. He had been some days in town before he was 
 able to discover them; but he had something to direct 
 his search, which was more than we had ; and the con- 
 sciousness of this was another reason for his resolving to 
 follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who 
 was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was 
 dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapproba- 
 tion, though he did not say what. She then took a large 
 house in Edward Street, and has since maintained herself 
 by letting lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, 
 intimately acquainted with Wickham ; and he went to 
 her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. 
 But it was two or three days before he could get from 
 her what he wanted. She would not betray her trust, I 
 suppose, without bribery and corruption, for she really 
 did know where her friend was to be found. Wickham, 
 indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in London, 
 and had she been able to receive them into her house, 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 191 
 
 they would have taken up their abode with her. At 
 length, however, our kind friend procured the wished-for 
 direction. They were in Street. He saw Wick- 
 ham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. His first 
 object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade 
 her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return 
 to her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to 
 receive her, offering his assistance as far as it would go. 
 But he found Lydia absolutely resolved on remaining 
 where she was. She cared for none of her friends ; she 
 wanted no help of his ; she would not hear of leaving 
 Wickham. She was sure they should be married some 
 time or other, and it did not much signify when. Since 
 such were her feelings, it only remained, he thought, to 
 secure and expedite a marriage, which, in his very first 
 conversation with Wickham, he easily learned had never 
 been his design. He confessed himself obliged to leave 
 the regiment on account of some debts of honor which 
 were very pressing ; and scrupled not to lay all the ill 
 consequences of Lydia's flight on her own folly alone. 
 He meant to resign his commission immediately ; and as 
 to his future situation, he could conjecture very little 
 about it. He must go somewhere, but he did not know 
 where, and he knew he should have nothing to live on. 
 Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at 
 once. Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very 
 rich, he would have been able to do something for him, 
 and his situation must have been benefited by marriage. 
 But he found, in reply to this question, that Wickham 
 still cherished the hope of more effectually making his 
 fortune by marriage in some other country. Under such 
 circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof 
 against the temptation of immediate relief. They met 
 several times, for there was much to be discussed. Wick- 
 ham, of course, wanted more than he could get, but at 
 
192 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything being 
 settled between them, Mr. Darcy's next step was to 
 make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called 
 in Gracechurch Street the evening before I came home. 
 But Mr. Gardiner could not be seen; and Mr. Darcy 
 found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with 
 him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not 
 judge your father to be a person whom he could so prop- 
 erly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily post- 
 poned seeing him till after the departure of the former. 
 He did not leave his name, and till the next day it was 
 only known that a gentleman had called on business. 
 On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, 
 your uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a 
 great deal of talk together. They met again on Sunday, 
 and then I saw him too. It was not all settled before 
 Monday ; as soon as it was, the express was sent off to 
 Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I 
 fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his char- 
 acter, after all. He has been accused of many faults at 
 different times ; but this is the true one. Nothing was 
 to be done that he did not do himself ; though I am sure 
 (and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say noth- 
 ing about it) your uncle would most readily have settled 
 the whole. They battled it together for a long time, 
 which was more than either the gentleman or lady con- 
 cerned in it deserved. But at last your uncle was forced 
 to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use to his 
 niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable 
 credit of it, which went sorely against the grain ; and I 
 really believe your letter this morning gave him great 
 pleasure, because it required an explanation that would 
 rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise 
 where it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further 
 than yourself, or Jane at most. You know pretty well, I 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 193 
 
 suppose, what has been done for the young people. His 
 debts are to be paid, amounting, I beUeve, to considerably 
 more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addi- 
 tion to her own settled upon her, and his commission 
 purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by 
 him alone was such as I have given above. It was 
 owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper consid- 
 eration, that Wickham's character had been so misunder- 
 stood, and consequently that he had been received and 
 noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in 
 this ; though I doubt whether his reserve or anybody's 
 reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of 
 all this fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest per- 
 fectly assured that your uncle would never have yielded, 
 if we had not given him credit for another interest in the 
 affair. When all this was resolved on, he returned again 
 to his friends, who were still staying at Pemberley ; but 
 it was agreed that he should be in London once more 
 when the wedding took place, and all money matters were 
 then to receive the last finish. I believe I have now told 
 you everything. It is a relation which you tell me is to 
 give you great surprise ; I hope at least it will not afford 
 you any displeasure. Lydia came to us, and Wickham 
 had constant admission to the house. He was exactly 
 what he had been when I knew him in Llertfordshire ; 
 but I would not tell you how little I was satisfied with 
 her behavior while she stayed with us, if I had not per- 
 ceived, by Jane's letter last Wednesday, that her conduct 
 on coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and there- 
 fore what I now tell you can give you no fresh pain. I 
 talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, rep- 
 resenting to her the wickedness of what she had done, 
 and all the unhappiness she had brought on her family. 
 If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she 
 did not listen. I was sometimes quite provoked; but 
 
 VOL. II. — 13 
 
194 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for 
 their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was 
 punctual in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, at- 
 tended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, 
 and was to leave town again on Wednesday or Thursday. 
 Will you be very angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I take 
 this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold enough 
 to say before) how much I like him? His behavior to us 
 has in every respect been as pleasing as when we were 
 in Derbyshire. His understanding and opinions all 
 please me : he wants nothing but a little more liveliness ; 
 and that, if he marry prudently, his wife may teach him, 
 I thought him very sly ; he hardly ever mentioned your 
 name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive me, 
 if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish 
 me so far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be 
 quite happy till I have been all round the park. A low 
 phaeton with a nice little pair of ponies would be the 
 very thing. But I must write no more. The children 
 have been wanting me this half hour. 
 
 Yours, very sincerely, 
 
 M. Gardiner. 
 
 The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into 
 a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to 
 determine whether pleasure or pain bore the great- 
 est share. The vague and unsettled suspicions 
 which uncertainty had produced of what Mr. 
 Darcy might have been doing to forward her 
 sister's match which she had feared to encourage, 
 as an exertion of goodness too great to be prob- 
 able, and at the same time dreaded to be just, 
 from the pain of obligation, were proved beyond 
 
PRIDE AND; rKEJUDICE. 
 
 195 
 
 their greatest extent to be true ! He had followed 
 them purposely to town, he had taken on himself 
 all the trouble and mortification attendant on 
 such a research; in which supplication had been 
 necessary to a woman whom he must abominate 
 and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, 
 frequently meet, reason with, persuade, and fi- 
 nally bribe the man whom he always most wished 
 to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment 
 to him to pronounce. He had done all this for 
 a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem. 
 Her heart did whisper that he had done it for 
 her. But it was a hope shortly checked by other 
 considerations; and she soon felt that even her 
 vanity was insufficient, when required to depend 
 on his affection for her, for a woman who had 
 already refused him, as able to overcome a senti- 
 ment so natural as abhorrence against relation- 
 ship with Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham ! 
 Every kind of pride must revolt from the connec- 
 tion. He had, to be sure, done much, — she was 
 ashamed to think how much; but he had given 
 a reason for his interference, which asked no ex- 
 traordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable 
 that he should feel he had been wrong; he had 
 liberality, and he had the means of exercising 
 it ; and though she would not place herself as his 
 principal inducement, she could perhaps believe 
 that remaining partiality for her might assist his 
 
196 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 endeavors in a cause where her peace of mind 
 must be materially concerned. It was painful, 
 exceedingly painful, to know that they were under 
 obligations to a person who could never receive 
 a return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, 
 her character, everything to him. Oh, how heart- 
 ily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation 
 she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she 
 had ever directed towards him! For herself she 
 was humbled ; but she was proud of him, — proud 
 that in a cause of compassion and honor he had 
 been able to get the better of himself. She read 
 over her aunt's commendation of him again and 
 again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. 
 She was even sensible of some pleasure, though 
 mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly 
 both she and her uncle had been persuaded that 
 affection and confidence subsisted between Mr. 
 Darcy and herself. 
 
 She was roused from her seat and her reflec- 
 tions by some one's approach; and before she 
 could strike into another path, she was overtaken 
 by Wickham. 
 
 '^I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, 
 my dear sister?'' said he, as he joined her. 
 
 *^You certainly do," she replied with a smile; 
 '*but it does not follow that the interruption 
 must be unwelcome." 
 
 should be sorry, indeed, if it were. We 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 197 
 
 were always good friends, and now we are 
 better." 
 
 ^^True. Are the others coming out?" 
 
 do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are 
 going in the carriage to Meryton. And so, my 
 dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that 
 you have actually seen Pemberley." 
 
 She replied in the affirmative. 
 
 '^I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I 
 believe it would be too much for me, or else I 
 could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you 
 saw the old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Rey- 
 nolds, she was always very fond of me. But of 
 course she did not mention my name to you." 
 
 ^^Yes, she did." 
 
 *^And what did she say?" 
 
 **That you were gone into the army, and she 
 was afraid had — not turned out well. At such 
 a distance as that, you know, things are strangely 
 misrepresented." 
 
 Certainly," he replied, biting his lips. Eliza- 
 beth hoped she had silenced himj but he soon 
 afterwards said, — 
 
 ^'1 was surprised to see Darcy in town last 
 month. We passed each other several times. I 
 wonder what he can be doing there." 
 
 Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss 
 de Bourgh," said Elizabeth. *'It must be some- 
 thing particular to take him there at this time 
 of year." 
 
198 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 '^Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you 
 were at Lambton? I thought I understood from 
 the Gardiners that you had.'* 
 
 Yes; he introduced us to his sister. 
 
 And do you like her? 
 
 Very much." 
 
 I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly 
 improved within this year or two. When I last 
 saw her, she was not very promising. I am very 
 glad you liked her. I hope she will turn out 
 well." 
 
 I dare say she will; she has got over the most 
 trying age." 
 
 Did you go by the village of Kympton? 
 '^I do not recollect that we did.'' 
 
 I mention it because it is the living which I 
 ought to have had. A most delightful place! 
 Excellent parsonage house! It would have suited 
 me in every respect." 
 
 How should you have liked making sermons? " 
 
 Exceedingly well. I should have considered 
 it as part of my duty, and the exertion would soon 
 have been nothing. One ought not to repine ; but, 
 to be sure, it would have been such a thing for 
 me ! The quiet, the retirement of such a life would 
 have answered all my ideas of happiness! But it 
 was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention 
 the circumstance when you were in Kent? " 
 
 **I have heard from authority, which I thought 
 
PRIDE AND TREJUDICE. 
 
 199 
 
 as good, that it was left you conditionally only, 
 and at the will of the present patron/' 
 
 You have! Yes, there was something in that; 
 I told you so from the first, you may remember." 
 
 I did hear, too, that there was a time when 
 sermon-making was not so palatable to you as it 
 seems to be at present; that you actually declared 
 your resolution of never taking orders, and that 
 the business had been compromised accordingly." 
 
 You did! and it was not wholly without foun- 
 dation. You may remember what I told you on 
 that point, when first we talked of it.'' 
 
 They were now almost at the door of the house, 
 for she had walked fast to get rid of him ; and un^ 
 willing, for her sister's sake, to provoke him, she 
 only said in reply, with a good-humored smile, — 
 
 ^^Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sis- 
 ter, you know. Do not let us quarrel about the 
 past. In future, I hope, we shall be always of one 
 mind." 
 
 She held out her hand : he kissed it with affec- 
 tionate gallantry, though he hardly knew how to 
 look; and they entered the house. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this 
 conversation that he never again distressed him- 
 self, or provoked his dear sister Elizaheth, hy in- 
 troducing the suhject of it; and she was pleased 
 to find that she had said enough to keep him 
 quiet. 
 
 The day of his and Lydia's departure soon came, 
 and Mrs. Bennet was forced to suhmit to a separa- 
 tion, which, as her husband by no means entered 
 into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, 
 was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth. 
 
 *^0h, my dear Lydia," she cried, ^'when shall 
 we meet again? " 
 
 *^0h. Lord! I don't know. Not these two or 
 three years, perhaps." 
 
 "Write to me very often, my dear.'' 
 
 *^As often as I can. But you know married 
 women have never much time for writing. My 
 sisters may write to me. They will have nothing 
 else to do." 
 
 Mr. Wickham's adieus were much more affec- 
 tionate than his wife's. He smiled, looked hand- 
 some, and said many pretty things. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 201 
 
 ''He is as fine a fellow, said Mr. Ben net, as 
 soon as they were out of the house, as ever I saw. 
 He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all. 
 I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir 
 William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable 
 son-in-law.*' 
 
 The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very 
 dull for several days. 
 
 often think, said she, ^Uhat there is noth* 
 ing so bad as parting with one's friends. One 
 seems so forlorn without them." 
 
 ^^This is the consequence you see, madam, of 
 marrying a daughter," said Elizabeth. ^^It must 
 make you better satisfied that your other four are 
 single." 
 
 It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me 
 because she is married, but only because her hus- 
 band's regiment happens to be so far off. If that 
 bad been nearer, she would not have gone so soon." 
 
 But the spiritless condition which this event 
 threw her into was shortly relieved, and her mind 
 opened again to the agitation of hope, by an article 
 of news which then began to be in circulation. 
 The housekeeper at Ketherfield had received orders 
 to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was 
 coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for 
 several weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the 
 fidgets. She looked at Jane, and smiled, and 
 shook her head, by turns. 
 
202 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 '^Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming 
 down, sister,'' for Mrs. Philips first brought her 
 the news. Well, so much the better. Not that 
 I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you 
 know, and I am sure I never want to see him again. 
 But, however, he is very welcome to come to 
 Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what 
 may happen? But that is nothing to us. You 
 know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention 
 a word about it. And so it is quite certain he is 
 coming? " 
 
 *^You may depend on it," replied the other, 
 *'for Mrs. Nichols was in Meryton last night: I 
 saw her passing by, and went out myself on pur- 
 pose to know the truth of it; and she told me that 
 it was certainly true. He comes down on Thurs- 
 day, at the latest ; very likely on Wednesday. She 
 was going to the butcher's, she told me, on pur- 
 pose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and 
 she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be 
 killed." 
 
 Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his 
 coming without changing color. It was many 
 months since she had mentioned his name to Eliza- 
 beth ; but now, as soon as they were alone together, 
 she said, — 
 
 '^I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my 
 aunt told us of the present report, and I know I 
 appeared distressed; but don't imagine it was from 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 203 
 
 any silly cause. I was only confused for the mo- 
 ment, because I felt that I should be looked at. I 
 do assure you that the news does not affect me 
 either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one 
 thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see 
 the less of him. ISTot that I am afraid of myself, 
 but I dread other people^s remarks." 
 
 Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had 
 she not seen him in Derbyshire, she might have 
 supposed him capable of coming there with no 
 other view than what was acknowledged; but she 
 still thought him partial to Jane, and she wavered 
 as to the greater probability of his coming there 
 with his friend's permission, or being bold enough 
 to come without it. 
 
 Yet it is hard,'' she sometimes thought, that 
 this poor man cannot come to a house which he 
 has legally hired, without raising all this specula- 
 tion! I will leave him to himself." 
 
 In spite of what her sister declared and really 
 believed to be her feelings in the expectation of 
 his arrival, Elizabeth could easily perceive that 
 her spirits were affected by it. They were more 
 disturbed, more unequal, than she had often seen 
 them. 
 
 The subject which had been so warmly canvassed 
 between their parents about a twelvemonth ago 
 was now brought forward again. 
 
 *'As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my 
 
204 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 dear," said Mrs. Bennet, '^you will wait on him 
 of course.'' 
 
 No, no. You forced me into visiting him last 
 year, and promised, if I went to see him, he should 
 marry one of my daughters; but it ended in 
 nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool's errand 
 again." 
 
 His wife represented to him how absolutely 
 necessary such an attention would be from all 
 the neighboring gentlemen, on his returning to 
 Netherfield. 
 
 ^"Tis an etiquette I despise," said he. *^If 
 he wants our society, let him seek it. He knows 
 where we live. I will not spend my hours in run- 
 ning after my neighbors every time they go away 
 and come back again." 
 
 Well, all I know is that it will be abominably 
 rude if you do not wait on him. But, however, 
 that sha'n't prevent my asking him to dine here, I 
 am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and 
 the Gouldings soon. That will make thirteen 
 with ourselves; so there will be just room at table 
 for him." 
 
 Consoled by this resolution, she was the better 
 able to bear her husband's incivility; though it was 
 verj^ mortifying to know tliat her neighbors might 
 all see Mr. Bingley in consequence of it before they 
 did. As the day of his arrival drew near, — 
 
 begin to be sorry that he comes at all," said 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 205 
 
 Jane to her sister. ^'It would be nothing; I 
 could see him with perfect indifference, but I can 
 hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. 
 My mother means well; but she does not know, 
 no one can know, how much I suffer from what 
 she says. Happy shall I be when his stay at 
 Netherfield is over ! " 
 
 wish I could say anything to comfort you,'' 
 replied Elizabeth; ^'but it is wholly out of my 
 power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfac- 
 tion of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied 
 me, because you have always so much." 
 
 Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through 
 the assistance of servants, contrived to have the 
 earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety 
 and fretfulness on her side might be as long as it 
 could. She counted the days that must intervene 
 before their invitation could be sent; hopeless of 
 seeing him before. But on the third morning 
 after his arrival in Hertfordshire she saw him 
 from her dressing-room window enter the paddock, 
 and ride towards the house. 
 
 Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of 
 her joy. Jane resolutely kept her place at the 
 table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went 
 to the window, — she looked, — she saw Mr. Darcy 
 with him, and sat down again by her sister. 
 
 There is a gentleman with him, mamma,'' 
 said Kitty; ''who can it be?" 
 
206 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^^Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I sup- 
 pose; I am sure I do not know." 
 
 <^La!'' replied Kitty, it looks just like that 
 man that used to be with him before. Mr. what 
 his name, — that tall, proud man.'' 
 
 ^'Good gracious! Mr. Darcy! — and so it does, 
 I vow. Well, any friend of Mr. Bingiey's will 
 always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I 
 must say that I hate the very sight of him.'' 
 
 Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and con- 
 cern. She knew but little of their meeting in 
 Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness 
 which must attend her sister in seeing him al- 
 most for the first time after receiving his ex- 
 planatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable 
 enough. Each felt for the other, and of course 
 for themselves ; and their mother talked on of her 
 dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be 
 civil to him only as Mr. Bingiey's friend, without 
 being heard by either of them. But Elizabeth 
 had sources of uneasiness which could not be sus- 
 pected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had 
 courage to show Mrs. Gardiner's letter, or to re- 
 late her own change of sentiment towards him. 
 To Jane he could be only a man whose proposals 
 she had refused, and whose merits she had under- 
 valued; but to her own more extensive informa- 
 tion he was the person to whom the whole family 
 were indebted for the first of benefits, and whom 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 207 
 
 she regarded herself with an interest, if not quite 
 so tender, at least as reasonable and just as what 
 Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his 
 coming — at his coming to Netherfield, to Long- 
 bourn, and voluntarily seeking her again — was 
 almost equal to what she had known on first 
 witnessing his altered behavior in Derbyshire. 
 
 The color which had been driven from her face 
 returned for half a minute w4th an additional 
 glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to her 
 eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his 
 affection and wishes must still be unshaken ; but 
 she would not be secure. 
 
 "Let me first see how he behaves," said she; 
 **it will then be early enough for expectation.'' 
 
 She sat intently at work, striving to be com- 
 posed, and without daring to lift up her eyes, till 
 anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her 
 sister as the servant was approaching the door. 
 Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more 
 sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the gen- 
 tlemen's appearing, her color increased; yet she 
 received them with tolerable ease, and with a pro- 
 priety of behavior equally free from any symptom 
 of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance. 
 
 Elizabeth said as little to either as civility 
 would allow, and sat down again to her work, 
 with an eagerness which it did not often com- 
 mand. She had ventured only one glance at 
 
208 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Darcy. He looked serious as usual, and, she 
 thought, more as he had been used to look in 
 Hertfordshire than as she had seen him at Pem- 
 berley. But, perhaps, he could not in her 
 mother's presence be what he was before her 
 uncle and aunt. It was a painful but not an 
 improbable conjecture. 
 
 Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, 
 and in that short period saw him looking both 
 pleased and embarrassed. He was received by 
 Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which made 
 her two daughters ashamed, especially when con- 
 trasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness 
 of her courtesy and address of his friend. 
 
 Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her 
 mother owed to the latter the preservation of her 
 favorite daughter from irremediable infamy, was 
 hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a 
 distinction so ill applied. 
 
 Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gardiner did, — a question which she could 
 not answer without confusion, — said scarcely any- 
 thing. He was not seated by her: perhaps that 
 was the reason of his silence ; but it had not been 
 so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her 
 friends when he could not to herself. But now 
 several minutes elapsed, without bringing the 
 sound of his voice ; and when occasionally, unable 
 to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised her 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 209 
 
 eyes to his face, she as often found him looking at 
 Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but 
 the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety 
 to please than when they last met were plainly ex- 
 pressed. She was disappointed, and angry with 
 herself for being so. 
 
 Could I expect it to be otherwise? said she. 
 Yet why did he come? 
 
 She was in no humor for conversation with 
 any one but himself; and to him she had hardly 
 courage to speak. 
 
 She inquired after his sister, but could do no 
 more. 
 
 *^It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you 
 went away,'' said Mrs. Bennet. 
 
 He readily agreed to it. 
 
 began to be afraid you would never come 
 back again. People did say you meant to quit the 
 place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I 
 hope it is not true. A great many changes have 
 happened in the neighborhood since you went 
 away. Miss Lucas is married and settled; and 
 one of my own daughters. I suppose you have 
 heard of it ; indeed, you must have seen it in the 
 papers. It was in the Times and the Courier, 
 I know; though it was not put in as it ought to 
 be. It was only said, ^ Lately, George Wickham, 
 Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,' without there being 
 a syllable said of her father, or the place where 
 
 VOL. II. — 14 
 
210 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gar- 
 diner's drawing up, too, and I wonder how he 
 came to make such an awkward business of it. 
 Did you see it? 
 
 Bingley replied that he did, and made his con- 
 gratulations. Elizabeth dared not lift up her 
 eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she 
 could not tell. 
 
 It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a 
 daughter well married," continued her mother; 
 *'but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very 
 hard to have her taken away from me. They are 
 gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, 
 it seems; and there they are to stay, I do not 
 know how long. His regiment is there ; for I sup- 
 pose you have heard of his leaving the shire, 
 
 and of his being gone into the Begulars. Thank 
 Heaven! he has some friends, though, perhaps, 
 not so many as he deserves.'' 
 
 Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. 
 Darcy, was in such misery of shame that she 
 could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, 
 however, the exertion of speaking, which noth- 
 ing else had so effectually done before; and she 
 asked Bingley whether he meant to make any 
 stay in the country at present. A few weeks, he 
 believed. 
 
 **When you have killed all your own birds, 
 Mr. Bingley," said her mother, ^'I beg you will 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 211 
 
 come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr. 
 Bennetts manor. I am sure he will be vastly 
 happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of 
 the coveys for you.'' 
 
 Elizabeth's misery increased at such unnecessary, 
 such officious attention ! Were the same fair pros- 
 pect to arise at present as had flattered them a 
 year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be 
 hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At 
 that instant she felt that years of happiness could 
 not make Jane or herself amends for moments of 
 such painful confusion. 
 
 ^^The first wish of my heart," said she to her- 
 self, ''is nevermore to be in company with either 
 of them. Their society can afford no pleasure that 
 will atone for such wretchedness as this ! Let me 
 never see either one or the other again! " 
 
 Yet the misery, for which years of happiness 
 were to offer no compensation, received soon after- 
 wards material relief, from observing how much 
 the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration 
 of her former lover. When first he came in, he 
 had spoken to her but little; but every five min- 
 utes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. 
 He found her as handsome as she had been last 
 year; as good-natured and as unaffected, though 
 not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no 
 difference should be perceived in her at all, and 
 was really persuaded that she talked as much as 
 
212 PRTDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ever; but her mind was so busily engaged that 
 she did not always know when she was silent. 
 
 When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. 
 Bennet was mindful of her intended civility, and 
 they were invited and engaged to dine at Long- 
 bourn in a few days' time. 
 
 *^You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bing- 
 ley," she added; ^^for when you went to town 
 last winter, you promised to take a family dinner 
 with us as soon as you returned. I have not for- 
 got, you see; and I assure you I was very much 
 disappointed that you did not come back and keep 
 your engagement.'' 
 
 Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, 
 and said something of his concern at having been 
 prevented by business. They then went away. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask 
 them to stay and dine there that day; but though 
 she always kept a very good table, she did not 
 think anj^thing less than two courses could be good 
 enough for a man on whom she had such anxious 
 designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride of one 
 who had ten thousand a year. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out 
 to recover her spirits, or, in other words, to dwell 
 without interruption on those subjects that must 
 deaden them more. Mr. Darcy's behavior aston- 
 ished and vexed her. 
 
 Wliy, if he came only to be silent, grave, and 
 indifferent," said she, did he come at all? 
 
 She could settle it in no way that gave her 
 pleasure. 
 
 He could be still amiable, still pleasing to my 
 uncle and aunt, when he was in town; and why 
 not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If 
 he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teas- 
 ing, teasing man! I will think no more about 
 him." 
 
 Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily 
 kept by the approach of her sister, who joined her 
 with a cheerful look which showed her better satis- 
 fied with their visitors than Elizabeth. 
 
 *^Now,'' said she, ^Hhat this first meeting is 
 over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own 
 strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again 
 by his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tues- 
 
214 
 
 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 day. It will then be publicly seen that on both 
 sides we meet only as common and indifferent 
 acquaintance." 
 
 Yes, very indifferent indeed," said Elizabeth, 
 laughingly. ^^Oh, Jane, take care!" 
 
 ^^My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak 
 as to be in danger now.'' 
 
 ^ ^ I think you are in very great danger of making 
 him as much in love with you as ever." 
 
 They did not see the gentlemen again till Tues- 
 day; and Mrs. Bennet in the mean while was 
 giving way to all the happy schemes which the 
 good-humor and common politeness of Bingley in 
 half an hour's visit had revived. 
 
 On Tuesday there was a large party assembled 
 at Longbourn; and the two who were most anx- 
 iously expected, to the credit of their punctuality 
 as sportsmen, were in very good time. When 
 they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly 
 watched to see whether Bingley would take the 
 place which in all their former parties had be- 
 longed to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, 
 occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him 
 to sit by herself. On entering the room he seemed 
 to hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and 
 happened to smile: it was decided. He placed 
 himself by her. 
 
 Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked 
 towards his friend. He bore it with noble in- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 215 
 
 difference; and she would have imagined that 
 Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, 
 had she not seen his eyes likewise turned towards 
 Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing 
 alarm. 
 
 His behavior to her sister was such during 
 dinner-time as showed an admiration of her which, 
 though more guarded than formerly, persuaded 
 Elizabeth that if left wholly to himself, Jane's 
 happiness and his own would be speedily secured. 
 Though she dared not depend upon the conse- 
 quence, she yet received pleasure from observing 
 his behavior. It gave her all the animation that 
 her spirits could boast ; for she was in no cheerful 
 humor. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as 
 the table could divide them. He was on one side 
 of her mother. She knew how little such a situa- 
 tion would give pleasure to either, or make either 
 appear to advantage. She was not near enough to 
 hear any of their discourse ; but she could see how 
 seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal 
 and cold was their manner whenever they did. 
 Her mother's ungraciousness made the sense of 
 what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth's 
 mind; and she would at times have given any- 
 thing to be privileged to tell him that his kind- 
 ness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole 
 of the family. 
 
 She was in hopes that the evening would afford 
 
216 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 some opportunity of bringing them together; that 
 the whole of the visit would not pass away without 
 enabling them to enter into something more of 
 conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation 
 attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the 
 period which passed in the drawing-room before 
 " the gentlemen came was wearisome and dull to a 
 degree that almost made her uncivil. She looked 
 forward to their entrance as the point on which 
 ^ all her chance of pleasure for the evening must 
 depend. 
 
 If he does not come to me then," said she, I 
 shall give him up forever." 
 
 The gentlemen came ; and she thought he looked 
 as if he would have answered her hopes : but, alas ! 
 the ladies had crowded round the table where Miss 
 Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out 
 the coffee, in so close a confederacy that there was 
 not a single vacancy near her which would admit 
 of a chair. And on the gentlemen^s approaching, 
 one of the girls moved closer to her than ever, 
 and said in a whisper — 
 
 The men sha'n't come and part us, I am deter- 
 mined. We want none of them; do we?" 
 
 Darcy had walked away to another part of the 
 room. She followed him with her eyes, envied 
 every one to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience 
 enough to help anybody to coffee, and then was 
 enraged against herself for being so silly! 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 217 
 
 man who has once been refused! How 
 could I ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal • 
 of his love? Is there one among the sex who 
 would not protest against such a weakness as a 
 second proposal to the same woman? There is 
 no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings." 
 
 She was a little revived, however, by his bring- 
 ing back his coffee-cup himself; and she seized the 
 opportunity of saying, — 
 
 '^Is your sister at Pemberley still? " 
 Yes; she will remain there till Christmas." 
 
 *'And quite alone? Have all her friends left 
 her?" 
 
 *^Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have 
 been gone on to Scarborough these three weeks." 
 
 She could think of nothing more to say; but if 
 he wished to converse with her, he might have 
 better success. He stood by her, however, for 
 some minutes in silence; and at last, on the young 
 lady's whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked 
 away. 
 
 When the tea-things were removed, and the 
 card-tables placed, the ladies all rose, and Eliza- 
 beth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, 
 when all her views were overthrown by seeing 
 him fall a victim to her mother's rapacity for whist- 
 players, and in a few moments after seated with 
 the rest of the party. She now lost every expec- 
 tation of pleasure. They were confined for the 
 
218 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 evening at different tables, and she had nothing to 
 hope, but that his eyes were so often turned to- 
 wards her side of the room as to make him play as 
 unsuccessfully as herself. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two 
 Netherfield gentlemen to supper; but their car- 
 riage was, unluckily, ordered before any of the 
 others, and she had no opportunity of detaining 
 them. 
 
 ^^Well, girls," said she, as soon as they were 
 left to themselves, what say you to the day? I 
 think everything has passed off uncommonly well, 
 I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as 
 any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a 
 turn, — and everybody said they never saw so fat 
 a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than 
 what we had at the Lucases last week; and even 
 Mr. Darcy acknowledged that the partridges were 
 remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two 
 or three French cooks at least. And, my dear 
 Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty. 
 Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether 
 you did not. And what do you think she said 
 besides? ^Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her 
 at Netherfield at last! ' She did, indeed. I do 
 think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever 
 lived, and her nieces are very pretty behaved 
 girls, and not at all handsome; I like them 
 prodigiously." 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 219 
 
 Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits : 
 she had seen enough of Bingley's behavior to Jane 
 to be convinced that she would get him at last; 
 and her expectations of advantage to her family, 
 when in a happy humor, were so far beyond reason 
 that she was quite disappointed at not seeing him 
 there again the next day to make his proposals. 
 
 ^'It has been a very agreeable day,'' said Miss 
 Bennet to Elizabeth. " The party seemed so well 
 selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope 
 we may often meet again.'' 
 
 Elizabeth smiled. 
 
 ^' Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not sus- 
 pect me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I 
 have now learned to enjoy his conversation as an 
 agreeable and sensible young man without having 
 a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, from 
 what his manners now are, that he never had any 
 design of engaging my affection. It is only that 
 he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, 
 and a stronger desire of generally pleasing, than 
 any other man." 
 
 ^^You are very cruel," said her sister; '^you 
 will not let me smile, and are provoking me to it 
 every moment." 
 
 *^How hard it is in some cases to be believed, 
 and how impossible in others! But why should 
 you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I 
 acknowledge? " 
 
220 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 " That is a question which I hardly know how 
 to answer. We all love to instruct, though we 
 can teach only what is not worth knowing. For- 
 give me ; and if you persist in indifference, do not 
 make me your confidante." 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A FEW days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called 
 again, and alone. His friend had left him that 
 morning for London, but was to return home in 
 ten days' time. He sat with them above an hour, 
 and was in remarkably good spirits. Mrs. Bennet 
 invited him to dine with them ; but with many ex- 
 pressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged 
 elsewhere. 
 
 ^^Kext time you call,'' said she, "I hope we 
 shall be more lucky.'' 
 
 He should be particularly happy at any time, 
 etc. ; and if she would give him leave, would take 
 an early opportunity of waiting on them. 
 Can you come to-morrow? " 
 
 Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; 
 and her invitation was accepted with alacrity. 
 
 He came, and in such very good time that the 
 ladies were none of them dressed. In ran Mrs. 
 Bennet to her daughter's room, in her dressing- 
 gown, and with her hair half finished, crying 
 out, — 
 
 **My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. 
 He is come, — Mr. Bingley is come ; he is, in* 
 
222 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 deed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come 
 to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on with 
 her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy's hair.'' 
 
 *^We will be down as soon as we can," said 
 Jane; **but I dare say Kitty is forwarder than 
 either of us, for she went upstairs half an hour 
 ago.'' 
 
 ^^Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? 
 Come, be quick, be quick! Where is your sash, 
 my dear? " 
 
 But when her mother was gone, Jane would not 
 be prevailed on to go down without one of her 
 sisters. 
 
 The same anxiety to get them by themselves was 
 visible again in the evening. After tea Mr. Ben- 
 net retired to the library, as was his custom, and 
 Mary went upstairs to her instrument. Two 
 obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Ben- 
 net sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and 
 Catherine for a considerable time, without making 
 any impression on them. Elizabeth would not 
 observe her; and when at last Kitty did, she very 
 innocently said, ^^What is the matter, mamma? 
 What do you keep winking at me for? What am 
 I to do? " 
 
 Nothing, child, nothing. I did not wink at 
 you." She then sat still five minutes longer; but 
 unable to waste such a precious occasion, she 
 suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, — 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 223 
 
 ''Come here, my love, I want to speak to you," 
 took her out of the room. Jane instantly gave a 
 look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such 
 premeditation, and her entreaty that she would not 
 give in to it. In a few minutes Mrs. Bennet 
 half opened the door and called out, — 
 
 ''Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you." 
 
 Elizabeth was forced to go. 
 
 "We may as well leave them by themselves, 
 you know," said her mother, as soon as she was in 
 the hall. "Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit 
 in my dressing-room." 
 
 Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her 
 mother, but remained quietly in the hall till she 
 and Kitty were out of sight, then returned into 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet's schemes for this day were inef- 
 fectual. Bingley was everything that was charm- 
 ing, except the professed lover of her daughter. 
 His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most 
 agreeable addition to their evening party; and he 
 bore with the ill-judged officiousness of the mother, 
 and heard all her silly remarks with a forbearance 
 and command of countenance particularly grateful 
 to the daughter. 
 
 He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; 
 and before he went away an engagement was 
 formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs, Bennetts 
 means, for his coming next morning to shoot with 
 her husband. 
 
224 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 After this day Jane said no more of her indif- 
 ference. Not a word passed between the sisters 
 concerning Bingley; but Elizabeth went to bed in 
 the happy belief that all must speedily be con- 
 cluded, unless Mr. Darcy returned within the 
 stated time. Seriously, however, she felt toler- 
 ably persuaded that all this must have taken place 
 with that gentleman's concurrence. 
 
 Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and 
 he and Mr. Bennet spent the morning together, as 
 had been agreed on. The latter was much more 
 agreeable than his companion expected. There 
 was nothing of presumption or folly in Bingley 
 that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him 
 into silence; and he was more communicative and 
 less eccentric than the other had ever seen him. 
 Bingley of course returned with him to dinner; 
 and in the evening Mrs. Bennetts invention was 
 again at work to get everybody away from him and 
 her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter to 
 write, went into the breakfast-room for that pur- 
 pose soon after tea; for as the others were all going 
 to sit down to cards, she could not be wanted to 
 counteract her mother's schemes. 
 
 But on her returning to the drawing-room, when 
 her letter was finished, she saw, to her infinite 
 surprise, there was reason to fear that her mother 
 had been too ingenious for her. On opening the 
 door, she perceived her sister and Bingley standing 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 225 
 
 together over the hearth, as if engaged in earnest 
 conversation ; and had this led to no suspicion, the 
 faces of hoth, as they hastily turned round and 
 moved away from each other, would have told it 
 all. Their situation was awkward enough; but 
 hers she thought was still worse. Not a syllable 
 was uttered by either; and Elizabeth was on the 
 point of going away again, when Bingley, who as 
 well as the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and 
 whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of 
 the room. 
 
 Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, 
 where confidence would give pleasure; and in- 
 stantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the 
 liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creat- 
 ure in the world. 
 
 is too much,'' she added, by far too much ! 
 I do not deserve it. Oh, why is not everybody 
 as happy?" 
 
 Elizabeth's congratulations were given with a 
 sincerity, a warmth, a delight, which words could 
 but poorly express. Every sentence of kindness 
 was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she 
 would not allow herself to stay with her sister, 
 or say half that remained to be said, for the 
 present. 
 
 ^'I must go instantly to my mother," she cried, 
 would not on any account trifle with her af- 
 fectionate solicitude, or allow her to hear it from 
 
 VOL. II. — 15 
 
226 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 any one but myself. He is gone to my father 
 already. Oh, Lizzy, to know that what I have 
 to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear 
 family! How shall I bear so much happiness?'' 
 
 She then hastened away to her mother, who 
 had purposely broken up the card-party, and was 
 sitting upstairs with Kitty. 
 
 Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled 
 at the rapidity and ease with which an affair was 
 finally settled that had given them so many pre- 
 vious months of surprise and vexation. 
 
 *'And this," said she, *^is the end of all his 
 friend's anxious circumspection, of all his sister's 
 falsehood and contrivance, the happiest, wisest, 
 and most reasonable end!" 
 
 In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, 
 whose conference with her father had been short 
 and to the purpose. 
 
 Where is your sister?" said he, hastily, as 
 he opened the door. 
 
 With my mother upstairs. She will be down 
 in a moment, I dare say." 
 
 He then shut the door, and coming up to her, 
 claimed the good wishes and affection of a sister. 
 Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her de- 
 light in the prospect of their relationship. They 
 shook hands with great cordiality; and then, till 
 her sister came down, she had to listen to all he 
 had to say of his own happiness and of Jane's 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 227 
 
 perfections; and in spite of his being a lover, 
 Elizabeth really believed all his expectations of 
 felicity to be rationally founded, because they had 
 for basis the excellent understanding and super- 
 excellent disposition of Jane, and a general 
 similarity of feeling and taste between her and 
 himself. 
 
 It was an evening of no common delight to 
 them all. The satisfaction of Miss Bennet's mind 
 gave such a glow of sweet animation to her face 
 as made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty 
 simpered and smiled, and hoped her turn was 
 coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not give her 
 consent or speak her approbation in terms warm 
 enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked 
 to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and 
 when Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his 
 voice and manner plainly showed how really 
 happy he was. 
 
 Not a word, however, passed his lips in allu- 
 sion to it, till their visitor took his leave for the 
 night; but as soon as he was gone, he turned to 
 his daughter and said, — 
 
 *^Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a 
 very happy woman." 
 
 Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and 
 thanked him for his goodness. 
 
 ^^You are a good girl," he replied, '^and I 
 have great pleasure in thinking you will be so 
 
228 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 happily settled. I have not a douht of your do- 
 ing very well together. Your tempers are by no 
 means unlike. You are each of you so comply- 
 ing that nothing will ever be resolved on, so 
 easy that every servant will cheat you, and 
 so generous that you will always exceed your 
 income." 
 
 hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness 
 in money matters would be unpardonable in me.'' 
 Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet/' 
 cried his wife, ^^what are you talking of ? Why, 
 he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely 
 more.'' Then addressing her daughter, ^^Oh, my 
 dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I 
 sha'n't get a wink of sleep all night. I knew 
 how it would be. I always said it must be so, at 
 last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for 
 nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, 
 when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I 
 thought how likely it was that you should come to- 
 gether. Oh, he is the handsomest young man that 
 ever was seen! " 
 
 Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was 
 beyond competition her favorite child. At that 
 moment she cared for no other. Her younger sis- 
 ters soon began to make interest with her for ob- 
 jects of happiness which she might in future be 
 able to dispense. 
 
 Mary petitioned for the use of the library at 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 229 
 
 Netherfield ; and Kitty begged very hard for a few 
 balls there every winter. 
 
 Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily 
 visitor at Longbourn; coming frequently before 
 breakfast, and always remaining till after supper; 
 unless when some barbarous neighbor, who could 
 not be enough detested, had given him an invita- 
 tion to dinner which he thought himself obliged 
 to accept. 
 
 Elizabeth had now but little time for conversa- 
 tion with her sister; for while he was present Jane 
 had no attention to bestow on any one else : but 
 dhe found herself considerably useful to both of 
 them, in those hours of separation that must some- 
 times occur. In the absence of Jane, he always 
 attached himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure of 
 talking of her; and when Bingley was gone, Jane 
 constantly sought the same means of relief. 
 
 '^He has made me so happy,'' said she, one 
 evening, ^'by telling me that he was totally igno- 
 rant of my being in town last spring ! I had not 
 believed it possible." 
 
 suspected as much," replied Elizabeth. 
 **But how did he account for it?" 
 
 **It must have been his sisters' doing. They 
 were certainly no friends to his acquaintance with 
 me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might 
 have chosen so much more advantageously in many 
 respects. But when they see, as I trust they will, 
 
230 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 that their brother is happy with me, they will 
 learn to be contented, and we shall be on good 
 terms again; though we can never be what we 
 once were to each other/' 
 
 ^^That is the most unforgiving speech,'' said 
 Elizabeth, ^^that I ever heard you utter. Good 
 girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again 
 the dupe of Miss Bingley's pretended regard." 
 
 Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he 
 went to town last November he really loved me, 
 and nothing but a persuasion of my being indif- 
 ferent would have prevented his coming down 
 again? " 
 
 He made a little mistake, to be sure; but it is 
 to the credit of his modesty." 
 
 This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane 
 on his diffidence, and the little value he put on his 
 own good qualities. 
 
 Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not 
 betrayed the interference of his friend ; for though 
 Jane had the most generous and forgiving heart in 
 the world, she knew it was a circumstance which 
 must prejudice her against him. 
 
 I am certainly the most fortunate creature that 
 ever existed! " cried Jane. Oh, Lizzy, why am 
 I thus singled from my family, and blessed above 
 them all? If I could but see you as happy! If 
 there were but such another man for you ! ' ' 
 
 If you were to give me forty such men, I never 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 231 
 
 could be so happy as you. Till I have your dispo- 
 sition, your goodness, I never can have your hap- 
 piness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and 
 perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet 
 with another Mr. Collins in time.'' 
 
 The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family 
 could not be long a secret. Mrs. Bennet was privi- 
 leged to whisper it to Mrs. Philips; and she ven- 
 tured, without any permission, to do the same by 
 all her neighbors in Meryton. 
 
 The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the 
 luckiest family in the world; though only a few 
 weeks before, when Lydia had first run away, they 
 had been generally proved to be marked out for 
 misfortune. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 One morning, about a week after Bingley's en- 
 gagement with Jane had been formed, as he and 
 the females of the family were sitting together in 
 the dining-room, their attention was suddenly 
 drawn to the window by the sound of a carriage ; 
 and they perceived a chaise and four driving up 
 the lawn. It was too early in the morning for 
 visitors, and besides, the equipage did not answei- 
 to that of any of their neighbors : the horses were 
 post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of 
 the servant who preceded it, was familiar to them. 
 As it was certain, however, that somebody wa^ 
 coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Ben- 
 net to avoid the confinement of such an intrusion, 
 and walk away with him into the shrubbery. 
 They both set off; and the conjectures of the re- 
 maining three continued, though with little satis- 
 faction, till the door was thrown open, and their 
 visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh. 
 
 They were of course all intending to be sur- 
 prised: but their astonishment was beyond their 
 expectation; and on the part of Mrs. Bennet and 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 233 
 
 Kitty, thougli she was perfectly unknown to them, 
 even inferior to what Elizabeth felt. 
 
 She entered the room with an air more than 
 usually ungracious, made no other reply to Eliza- 
 beth's salutation than a slight inclination of the 
 head, and sat down without saying a word. Eliza- 
 beth had mentioned her name to her mother on her 
 Ladyship's entrance, though no request of intro- 
 duction had been made. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by 
 having a guest of such high importance, received 
 her with the utmost politeness. After sitting for 
 a moment in silence, she said very stiffly to 
 Elizabeth, — 
 
 ^^I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, 
 I suppose, is your mother? " 
 
 Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was. 
 
 And that, I suppose, is one of your sisters? " 
 ''Yes, madam," said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to 
 speak to a Lady Catherine. '' She is my youngest 
 girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, 
 and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, 
 walking with a young man who, I believe, will 
 soon become a part of the family. '* 
 
 ''You have a very small park here," returned 
 Lady Catherine, after a short silence. 
 
 "It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my 
 Lady, I dare say; but I assure you it is much 
 larger than Sir William Lucas's." 
 
234 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 " This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room 
 for the evening in summer; the windows are full 
 west.'' 
 
 Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat 
 there after dinner; and then added, — 
 
 ^^May I take the liberty of asking your Lady- 
 ship whether you left Mr. and Mrs. Collins 
 well?'' 
 
 Yes, very well. I saw them the night before 
 last." 
 
 Elizabeth now expected that she would produce 
 a letter for her from Charlotte, as it seemed the 
 only probable motive for her calling. But no 
 letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled. 
 
 Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her 
 Ladyship to take some refreshment; but Lady 
 Catherine very resolutely and not very politely 
 declined eating anything; and then, rising up, 
 said to Elizabeth, — 
 
 ^^Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish 
 kind of a little wilderness on one side of your 
 lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you 
 will favor me with your company." 
 
 ^^Go, my dear," cried her mother, ''and show 
 her Ladyship about the different walks. I think 
 she will be pleased with the hermitage." 
 
 Elizabeth obeyed; and running into her own 
 room for her parasol, attended her noble guest 
 downstairs. As they passed through the hall. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 235 
 
 Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining- 
 parlor and drawing-room, and pronouncing them, 
 after a short survey, to be decent-looking rooms, 
 walked on. 
 
 Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizar 
 beth saw that her waiting-woman was in it. They 
 proceeded in silence along the gravel walk that led 
 to the copse ; Elizabeth was determined to make no 
 effort for conversation with a woman who was now 
 more than usually insolent and disagreeable. 
 
 How could I ever think her like her nephew?" 
 said she, as she looked in her face. 
 
 As soon as they entered the copse. Lady Cath 
 erine began in the following manner : — 
 
 ^^You can be at no loss. Miss Bennet, to under- 
 stand the reason of my journey hither. Your 
 own heart, your own conscience, must tell you 
 why I come." 
 
 Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment. 
 Indeed you are mistaken, madam; I have not 
 been at all able to account for the honor of seeing 
 you here." 
 
 ^^Miss Bennet," replied her Ladj^ship, in an 
 angry tone, ^'you ought to know that I am not to 
 be trifled with. But however insincere you may 
 choose to be, you shall not find me so. My char- 
 acter has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and 
 frankness ; and in a cause of such moment as this, 
 I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a 
 
236 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I 
 was told that not only your sister was on the point 
 of being most advantageously married, but that 
 you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would in all 
 likelihood be soon afterwards united to my 
 nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I 
 know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I 
 would not injure him so much as to suppose the 
 truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting 
 off for this place, that I might make my sentiments 
 known to you." 
 
 ^^If you believed it impossible to be true," said 
 Elizabeth, coloring with astonishment and disdain, 
 ^'1 wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. 
 What could your Ladyship propose by it?" 
 
 *^At once to insist upon having such a report 
 universally contradicted.'' 
 
 Your coming to Longbourn to see me and my 
 family," said Elizabeth, coolly, ^^will be rather a 
 confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in 
 existence." 
 
 If ! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? 
 Has it not been industriously circulated by your- 
 selves? Do you not know that such a report is 
 spread abroad?" 
 
 I never heard that it was." 
 
 And can you likewise declare that there is no 
 foundation for it?" 
 
 do not pretend to possess equal frankness 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 237 
 
 with your Ladyship. You may ask questions which 
 I shall not choose to answer." 
 
 ^'This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I in- 
 sist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, 
 made you an offer of marriage?" 
 
 ^^Your Ladyship has declared it to be impos- 
 sible." 
 
 ^'It ought to be so; it must be so, while he 
 retains the use of his reason. But your arts and 
 allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have 
 made him forget what he owes to himself and to 
 all his family. You may have drawn him in." 
 
 ^'If I have, I shall be the last person to con- 
 fess it." 
 
 *'Miss Bennet, do you know w^ho I am? I 
 have not been accustomed to such language as 
 this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in 
 the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest 
 concerns." 
 
 ^'But you are not entitled to know mine; nor 
 will such behavior as this ever induce me to be 
 explicit." 
 
 *^Let me be rightly understood. This match, to 
 which you have the presumption to aspire, can 
 never take place; no, never. Mr. Darcy is en- 
 gaged to my daughter. Now what have you to 
 say?" 
 
 *^Only this, — that if he is so, you can have no 
 reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.'' 
 
238 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and 
 then replied, — 
 
 ' ' The engagement between them is of a peculiar 
 kind. Erom their infancy, they have been in- 
 tended for each other. It was the favorite wish of 
 his mother, as well as of hers. While in their 
 cradles we planned the union; and now, at the 
 moment when the wishes of both sisters would be 
 accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by 
 a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance 
 in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! 
 Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends, 
 to his tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? 
 Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and 
 delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from 
 his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin? " 
 
 Yes; and I had heard it before. But what is 
 that to me? If there is no other objection to my 
 marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be 
 kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt 
 wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both 
 did as much as you could in planning the mar- 
 riage. Its completion depended on others. If 
 Mr. Darcy is neither by honor nor inclination con- 
 fined to his cousin, why is not he to make another 
 choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I 
 accept him? 
 
 Because honor, decorum, prudence, nay- in- 
 terest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest for 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 239 
 
 do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends 
 if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. 
 You will be censured, slighted, and despised by 
 every one connected with him. Your alliance will 
 be a disgrace; your name will never even be men- 
 tioned by any of us." 
 
 "These are heavy misfortunes,'' replied Eliza- 
 beth. "But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have 
 such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily 
 attached to her situation, that she could, upon the 
 whole, have no cause to repine." 
 
 "Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of 
 you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to 
 you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that 
 score? Let us sit down. You are to understand. 
 Miss Bennet, that I came here with the deter- 
 mined resolution of carrying my purpose ; nor will 
 I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to 
 submit to any person's whims. I have not been 
 in the habit of brooking disappointment." 
 
 "That will make your Ladyship's situation at 
 present more pitiable; but it will have no effect 
 on me." 
 
 "I will not be interrupted! Hear me in si- 
 lence. My daughter and my nephew are formed 
 for each other. They are descended, on the ma- 
 ternal side, from the same noble line; and on the 
 father's, from respectable, honorable, and ancient, 
 though untitled families. Their fortune on both 
 
240 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 sides is splendid. They are destined for each 
 other by the voice of every member of their re- 
 spective houses; and what is to divide them? — 
 the upstart pretensions of a young woman without 
 family, connections, or fortune! Is this to be 
 endured? But it must not, shall not be! If you 
 were sensible of your own good, you would not 
 wish to quit the sphere in which you have been 
 brought up." 
 
 **Iii marrying your nephew, I should not con- 
 sider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a 
 gentleman; I am a gentleman's daughter: so far 
 we are equal.'' 
 
 **True. You are a gentleman's daughter. But 
 what was your mother? Who are your uncles and 
 aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their 
 condition." 
 
 Whatever my connections may be," said Eliz- 
 abeth, ^^if your nephew does not object to them^ 
 they can be nothing to you." 
 
 " Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him? " 
 
 Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere pur- 
 pose of obliging Lady Catherine, have answered 
 this question, she could not but say, after a mo- 
 ment's deliberation, — 
 
 <a am not." 
 
 Lady Catherine seemed pleased. 
 "And will you promise me never to enter into 
 such an engagement?" 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 241 
 
 will make no promise of the kind." 
 
 ^*Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. 
 I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. 
 But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will 
 ever recede. I shall not go away till you have 
 given me the assurance I require." 
 
 And I certainly never shall give it. I am not 
 to be intimidated into anything so wholly unrea- 
 sonable. Your Ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to 
 marry your daughter; but would my giving you 
 the wished-for promise make their marriage at all 
 more probable? Supposing him to be attached to 
 me, would my refusing to accept his hand make 
 him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me 
 to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with 
 which you have supported this extraordinary appli- 
 cation have been as frivolous as the application 
 was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my 
 character, if you think I can be worked on by such 
 persuasions as these. How far your nephew might 
 approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot 
 tell; but you have certainly no right to concern 
 yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be 
 importuned no further on the subject." 
 
 ^^Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no 
 means done. To all the objections I have already 
 urged I have still another to add. I am no 
 stranger to the particulars of your youngest sis- 
 ter's infamous elopement. I know it aU ; that the 
 
 VOL. II. — 16 
 
242 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 young man's marrying her was a patched-up busi- 
 ness, at the expense of your father and uncle. 
 And is such a girl to be my nephew's sister? Is 
 her husband, who is the son of his late father's 
 steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth! 
 of what are you thinking? Are the shades of 
 Pemberley to be thus polluted? '* 
 
 ^^You can now have nothing further to say,'* 
 she resentfully answered. You have insulted 
 me in every possible method. I must beg to 
 return to the house.'' 
 
 And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine 
 rose also, and they turned back. Her Ladyship 
 was highly incensed. 
 
 ^^You have no regard, then, for the honor and 
 credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! 
 Do you not consider that a connection with you 
 must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody? " 
 
 ^^Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to 
 say. You know my sentiments." 
 
 You are then resolved to have him?" 
 
 '^I have said no such thing. I am only re- 
 solved to act in that manner which will, in my 
 own opinion, constitute my happiness, without 
 reference to you, or to any person so wholly un- 
 connected with me." 
 
 ^*It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. 
 You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honor, and 
 gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in the 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 243 
 
 opinion of all his friends, and make him the con- 
 tempt of the world." 
 
 Neither duty nor honor nor gratitude," re- 
 plied Elizabeth, '^has any possible claim on me 
 in the present instance. No principle of either 
 would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. 
 And with regard to the resentment of his family, 
 or the indignation of the world, if the former were 
 excited by his marrying me, it would not give 
 me one moment's concern, — and the world in 
 general would have too much sense to join in the 
 scorn." 
 
 *^And this is your real opinion! This is your 
 final resolve ! Very well. I shall now know how 
 to act. Do not imagine. Miss Bennet, that your 
 ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. 
 I hoped to find you reasonable; but depend upon 
 it, I will carry my point." 
 
 In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till 
 they were at the door of the carriage, when, turn- 
 ing hastily round, she added, — 
 
 ^^I take no leave of you. Miss Bennet. I send 
 no compliments to your mother. You deserve no 
 such attention. I am most seriously displeased." 
 
 Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempt- 
 ing to persuade her Ladyship to return into the 
 house, walked quietly into it herself. She heard 
 the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. 
 Her mother impatiently met her at the door of her 
 
244 
 
 PRIDE 'AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 dressing-room, to ask why Lady Catherine would 
 not come in again and rest herself. 
 
 ^^She did not choose it/' said her daughter; 
 *^she would go.'' 
 
 ^^She is a very fine-looking woman, and her 
 calling here was prodigiously civil! for she only 
 came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well. 
 She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, 
 passing through Meryton, thought she might as 
 well call on you. I suppose she had nothing par- 
 ticular to say to you, Lizzy? " 
 
 Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little false- 
 hood here; for to acknowledge the substance of 
 their conversation was impossible. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 The discomposure of spirits which this extraordi 
 nary visit threw Elizabeth into could not be easily 
 overcome, nor could she for many hours learn to 
 think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, 
 it appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this 
 journey from K.osings for the sole purpose of break- 
 ing off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. 
 It was a rational scheme, to be sure ; but from what 
 the report of their engagement could originate, 
 Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine, till she recol- 
 lected that his being the intimate friend of Bing- 
 ley, and her being the sister of Jane, was enough, 
 at a time when the expectation of one wedding 
 made everybody eager for another, to supply the 
 idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that 
 the marriage of her sister must bring them more 
 frequently together. And her neighbors at Lucas 
 Lodge, therefore (for through their communica- 
 tion with the Collinses the report, she concluded, 
 had reached Lady Catherine), had only set that 
 down as almost certain and immediate which she 
 had looked forward to as possible at some future 
 time. 
 
246 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 In revolving Lady Catherine's expressions, how- 
 ever, she could not help feeling some uneasiness 
 as to the possible consequence of her persisting in 
 this interference. Trom what she had said of her 
 resolution to prevent the marriage, it occurred to 
 Elizabeth that she must meditate an application 
 to her nephew; and how he might take a similar 
 representation of the evils attached to a connection 
 with her she dared not pronounce. She knew not 
 the exact degree of his affection for his aunt, or 
 his dependence on her judgment, but it was nat- 
 ural to suppose that he thought much higher of 
 her Ladyship than she could do; and it was cer- 
 tain that in enumerating the miseries of a mar- 
 riage with one whose immediate connections were 
 so unequal to his own, his aunt would address him 
 on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, 
 he would probably feel that the arguments which 
 to Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous 
 contained much good sense and solid reasoning. 
 
 If he had been wavering before as to what he 
 should do, which had often seemed likely, the 
 advice and entreaty of so near a relation might 
 settle every doubt, and determine him at once to 
 be as happy as dignity unblemished could make 
 him. In that case he would return no more. 
 Lady Catherine might see him in her way through 
 town; and his engagement to Bingley of coming 
 again to Netherfield must give way. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 247 
 
 ''If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his 
 promise should come to his friend within a few 
 days,'' she added, '^I shall know how to under- 
 stand it. I shall then give over every expectation, 
 every wish of his constancy. If he is satisfied 
 with only regretting me, when he might have ob- 
 tained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease 
 to regret him at all." 
 
 The surprise of the rest of the family, on hear- 
 ing who their visitor had been, was very great; 
 but they obligingly satisfied it with the same kind 
 of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet's 
 curiosity, and Elizabeth was spared from much 
 teasing on the subject. 
 
 The next morning, as she was going down- 
 stairs, she was met by her father, who came out 
 of his library with a letter in his hand. 
 
 ''Lizzy," said he, "I was going to look for 
 you: come into my room." 
 
 She followed him thither; and her curiosity to 
 know what he had to tell her was heightened by 
 the supposition of its being in some manner con- 
 nected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck 
 her that it might be from Lady Catherine, and 
 she anticipated with dismay all the consequent 
 explanations. 
 
 She followed her father to the fireplace, and 
 they both sat down. He then said, — 
 
 "I have received a letter this morning that has 
 
248 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 astonished me exceedingly. As it principally 
 concerns yourself, you ought to know its contents. 
 I did not know before that I had two daughters 
 on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate 
 you on a very important conquest." 
 
 The color now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks in 
 the instantaneous conviction of its being a letter 
 from the nephew, instead of the aunt; and she 
 was undetermined whether most to be pleased 
 that he explained himself at all, or offended that 
 his letter was not rather addressed to herself, 
 when her father continued, — 
 
 You look conscious. Young ladies have great 
 penetration in such matters as these; but I think 
 I may defy even your sagacity to discover the 
 name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. 
 Collins." 
 
 '^From Mr. Collins! and what can he have to 
 say?" 
 
 Something very much to the purpose, of course. 
 He begins with congratulations on the approach- 
 ing nuptials of my eldest daughter, of which it 
 seems he has been told by some of the good- 
 natured, gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport 
 with your impatience by reading what he says 
 on that point. What relates to yourself is as 
 follows : — 
 
 * Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations 
 of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me 
 
PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 249 
 
 now add a short hint on the subject of another, of which 
 we have been advertised by the same authority. Your 
 daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear 
 the name of Bennet, after her eldest sister has resigned 
 it ; and the chosen partner of her fate may be reasonably 
 looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in 
 this land.' 
 
 *'Caii you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant 
 by this? 
 
 * This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, 
 with everything the heart of mortal can most desire, — 
 splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patron- 
 age. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn 
 my cousin Elizabeth and yourself of what evils you may 
 incur by a precipitate closure with this gentleman's pro- 
 posals, which, of course, you will be inclined to take 
 immediate advantage of.' 
 
 **Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman 
 is? But now it comes out. 
 
 * My motive for cautioning you is as follows : we have 
 reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de 
 Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye.' 
 
 **Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, 
 I think I have surprised you. Could he or the 
 Lucases have pitched on any man within the 
 circle of our acquaintance whose name would have 
 given the lie more effectually to what they related? 
 Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to 
 see a blemish, and who probably never looked at 
 you in his life! It is admirable!" 
 
250 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 Elizabeth tried to join in her father's pleas- 
 antry, but could only force one most reluctant 
 smile. Never had his wit been directed in a 
 manner so little agreeable to her. 
 
 ^^Are you not diverted?^' 
 
 ^^Oh, yes. Pray read on.'' 
 
 " ' After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to 
 her Ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual 
 condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion ; 
 when it became apparent that on the score of some 
 family objections on the part of my cousin she would 
 never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful 
 a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest in- 
 telligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble 
 admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not 
 run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly 
 sanctioned.' 
 
 '^Mr. Collins, moreover, adds, — 
 
 *I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia's sad busi- 
 ness has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned 
 that their living together before the marriage took place 
 should be so generally known. I must not, however, 
 neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declar- 
 ing my amazement, at hearing that you received the 
 young couple into your house as soon as they were 
 married. It was an encouragement of vice ; and had I 
 been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously 
 have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as 
 a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or 
 allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing.' 
 
 *^That is his notion of Christian forgiveness! 
 The rest of his letter is only about his dear Char- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 251 
 
 lotte's situation, and his expectation of a young 
 olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you 
 did not enjoy it. You are not going to be 
 missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at 
 an idle report. For what do we live, but to make 
 sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in 
 our turn?" 
 
 ^^Oh," cried Elizabeth, ^^I am exceedingly 
 diverted. But it is so strange! 
 
 ''Yes; that is what makes it amusing. Had 
 they fixed on any other man, it would have been 
 nothing; but his perfect indifference and your 
 pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd! 
 Much as I abominate writing, I would not give up 
 Mr. Collinses correspondence for any consideration. 
 Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help 
 giving him the preference even over Wickham, 
 much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of 
 my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady 
 Catherine about this report? Did she call to 
 refuse her consent?" 
 
 To this question his daughter replied only with 
 a laugh; and as it had been asked without the 
 least suspicion, she was not distressed by his re- 
 peating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a 
 loss to make her feelings appear what they were 
 not. It was necessary to laugh when she would 
 rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly 
 
252 
 
 PRIDE AND mEJUDICE. 
 
 mortified her by what he said of Mr. Darcy's in- 
 difference; and she could do nothing but wonder 
 at such a want of penetration, or fear that per- 
 haps, instead of his seeing too little, she might 
 have fancied too much. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse 
 from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. 
 Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with 
 him to Longbourn before many days had passed 
 after Lady Catherine's visit. The gentlemen ar- 
 rived early; and before Mrs. Bennet had time to 
 tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which 
 her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, 
 who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their 
 all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet 
 was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never 
 spare time, but the remaining five set off together. 
 Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the 
 others to outstrip them. They lagged behind j 
 while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to enter- 
 tain each other. Very little was said by either: 
 Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Eliza- 
 beth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; 
 and, perhaps, he might be doing the same. 
 
 They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty 
 wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw 
 no occasion for making it a general concern, when 
 Kitty left them, she went boldly on with him 
 
254 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to 
 be executed; and while her courage was high, she 
 immediately said, — 
 
 ^^Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and 
 for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings 
 care not how much I may be wounding yours. I 
 can no longer help thanking you for your unex- 
 ampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I 
 have known it I have been most anxious to acknowl- 
 edge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it 
 known to the rest of my family, I should not have 
 merely my own gratitude to express. 
 
 ^'1 am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied Darcy, 
 in a tone of surprise and emotion, ^^that you have 
 ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken 
 light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think 
 Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted." 
 
 ^^You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's 
 thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had 
 been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I 
 could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me 
 thank you again and again, in the name of all my 
 family, for that generous compassion which induced 
 you to take so much trouble and bear so many 
 mortifications for the sake of discovering them.'' 
 
 '^If you will thank me," he replied, ^'\et it be 
 for yourself alone. That the wish of giving hap- 
 piness to you might add force to the other induce- 
 ments which led me on, T shall not attempt to 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 255 
 
 deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much 
 as I respect them, I believe I thought only of 
 you.'' 
 
 Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a 
 word. After a short pause her companion added ; 
 
 You are too generous to trifle with me. If your 
 feelings are still what they were last April, tell 
 me so at once. My affections and wishes are un- 
 changed; but one word from you will silence me 
 on this subject forever." 
 
 Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common 
 awkwardness and anxiety for his situation, now 
 forced herself to speak; and immediately, though 
 not very fluently, gave him to understand that 
 her sentiments had undergone so material a change 
 since the period to which he alluded as to make 
 her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present 
 assurances. The happiness which this reply pro- 
 duced was such as he had probably never felt 
 before; and he expressed himself on the occasion 
 as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in 
 love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been 
 able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen 
 how well the expression of heartfelt delight, dif- 
 fused over his face, became him: but though she 
 could not look, she could listen ; and he told her of 
 feelings which, in proving of what importance she 
 was to him, made his affection every moment more 
 valuable. 
 
256 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 They walked on without knowing in what di- 
 rection. There was too much to be thought and 
 felt and said, for attention to any other objects. 
 She soon learned that they were indebted for their 
 present good understanding to the efforts of his 
 aunt, who did call on him in her return through 
 London, and there relate her journey to Long- 
 bourn, its motive, and the substance of her con- 
 versation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically 
 on every expression of the latter which in her 
 Ladyship's apprehension peculiarly denoted her 
 perverseness and assurance in the belief that such 
 a relation must assist her endeavors to obtain that 
 promise from her nephew which she had refused to 
 give. But unluckily for her Ladyship, its effect 
 had been exactly contrariwise. 
 
 ^^It taught me to hope," said he, ^^as I had 
 scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I 
 knew enough of your disposition to be certain 
 that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided 
 against me, you would have acknowledged it to 
 Lady Catherine frankly and openly." 
 
 Elizabeth colored and laughed as she replied: 
 
 Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe 
 me capable of that. After abusing you so abomina- 
 bly to your face, I could have no scruple in abus- 
 ing you to all your relations." 
 
 ^^What did you say of me that I did not 
 deserve? For though youv accusations were ill- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 257 
 
 founded, formed on mistaken premises, my be- 
 havior to you at the time had merited the severest 
 reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think o 
 it without abhorrence.'' 
 
 ^'We will not quarrel for the greater share of 
 blame annexed to that evening," said Elizabeth. 
 ^^The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, 
 will be irreproachable; but since then we have 
 both, I hope, improved in civility." 
 
 ^'I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. 
 The recollection of what I then said, of my con- 
 duct, my manners, my expressions during the 
 whole of it, is now, and has been many months, 
 inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so 
 well applied, I shall never forget: 'Had you be- 
 haved in a more gentlemanlike manner.' Those 
 were your words. You know not, you can scarcely 
 conceive, how they have tortured me; though it 
 was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable 
 enough to allow their justice." 
 
 I was certainly very far from expecting them to 
 make so strong an impression. I had not the small- 
 est idea of their being ever felt in such a way." 
 
 ^'I can easily believe it. You thought me then 
 devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. 
 The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, 
 as you said that I could not have addressed you in 
 any possible way that would induce you to accept 
 me.'' 
 
 VOL. II. — 17 
 
258 PRroE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^' Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These 
 recollections will not do at all. I assure you that 
 I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.'' 
 
 Darcy mentioned his letter. " Did it," said he, 
 — ^'did it soon make you think better of me? 
 Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its 
 contents? " 
 
 She explained what its effects on her had been, 
 and how gradually all her former prejudices had 
 been removed. 
 
 ^'1 knew," said he, ^^that what I wrote must 
 give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you 
 have destroyed the letter. There was one part, 
 especially the opening of it, which I should dread 
 your having the power of reading again. I can 
 remember some expressions which might justly 
 make you hate me.'' 
 
 * ' The letter shall certainly be burned, if you be- 
 lieve it essential to the preservation of my regard; 
 but though we have both reason to think my opin- 
 ions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, 
 quite so easily changed as that implies." 
 
 ^'When I wrote that letter," replied Darcy, ^^I 
 believed myself perfectly calm and cool; but I am 
 since convinced that it was written in a dreadful 
 bitterness of spirit." 
 
 ^^The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but 
 it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. 
 But think no more of the letter. The feelings of 
 
PEIDE AND rUEJUDICE. 
 
 259 
 
 the person who wrote and the person who received 
 it are now so widely different from what they were 
 then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending 
 it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of 
 my philosophy. Think only of the past as its re- 
 membrance gives you pleasure. 
 
 ^^I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of 
 the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally 
 void of reproach, that the contentment arising 
 from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much 
 better, of ignorance. But with me it is not so. 
 Painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, 
 which ought not to be repelled. I have been a 
 selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in 
 principle. As a child I was taught what was 
 right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. 
 I was given good principles, but left to follow them 
 in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son 
 (for many years an only child), I was spoiled by 
 my parents, who, though good themselves (my 
 father, particularly, al-l that was benevolent and 
 amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me 
 to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none be- 
 yond my own family circle, to think meanly of all 
 the rest of the world, to wish at least to think 
 meanly of their sense and worth compared with my 
 own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; 
 and such I might still have been but for you, dear- 
 est, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! 
 
260 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but 
 most advantageous. By you I was properly hum- 
 bled. I came to you without a doubt of my re- 
 ception. You showed me how insufficient were all 
 my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being 
 pleased." 
 
 ^^Had you then persuaded yourself that I 
 should? " 
 
 Indeed I had. What will you think of my 
 vanity? I believed you to be wishing, expecting 
 my addresses." 
 
 ^' My manners must have been in fault, but not 
 intentionally, I assure you. I never meant to de- 
 ceive you, but my spirits might often lead me 
 wrong. How you must have hated me after that 
 evening! 
 
 ^^Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but 
 my anger soon began to take a proper direction. " 
 
 I am almost afraid of asking what you thought 
 of me when we met at Pemberley. You blamed 
 me for coming? " 
 
 ^'No, indeed; I felt nothing but surprise." 
 Your surprise could not be greater than mine 
 in being noticed by you. My conscience told me 
 that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I 
 confess that I did not expect to receive more than 
 my due.'' 
 
 My object then," replied Darcy, was to show 
 you, by every civility in my power, that I was not 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 261 
 
 do mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to ob- 
 tain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill-opinion, by 
 letting you see that your reproofs had been at- 
 tended to. How soon any other wishes introduced 
 themselves, I can hardly tell, but I believe in 
 about half an hour after I had seen you." 
 
 He then told her of Georgiana's delight in her 
 acquaintance, and of her disappointment at its sud- 
 den interruption; which naturally leading to the 
 cause of that interruption, she soon learned that 
 his resolution of following her from Derbyshire in 
 quest of her sister had been formed before he 
 quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thought- 
 fulness there had arisen from no other struggles 
 than what such a purpose must comprehend. 
 
 She expressed her gratitude again, but it was 
 too painful a subject to each to be dwelt on 
 further. 
 
 After walking several miles in a leisurely man- 
 ner, and too busy to know anything about it, they 
 found at last, on examining their watches, that it 
 was time to be at home. 
 
 What could have become of Mr. Bingley and 
 Jane ! " was a wonder which introduced the discus- 
 sion of their affairs. Darcy was delighted with their 
 engagement ; his friend had given him the earliest 
 information of it. 
 
 must ask whether you were surprised? " said 
 Elizabeth. 
 
262 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 ^^ISfot at all. When I went away, I felt that it 
 would soon happen." 
 
 ^^That is to say, you had given your permission. 
 I guessed as much." And though he exclaimed 
 at the term, she found that it had been pretty 
 much the case. 
 
 ^^On the evening before my going to London, 
 said he, I made a confession to him, which I be- 
 lieve I ought to have made long ago. I told him 
 of all that had occurred to make my former inter- 
 ference in his affairs absurd and impertinent. His 
 surprise was great. He had never had the slight- 
 est suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I be- 
 lieved myself mistaken in supposing, as I had 
 done, that your sister was indifferent to him; and 
 as I could easily perceive that his attachment to 
 her was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness 
 together." 
 
 Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy 
 manner of directing his friend. 
 
 ^^Did you speak from your own observation,'' 
 said she, ^^when you told him that my sister 
 loved him, or merely from my information last 
 spring? 
 
 ^^From the former. I had narrowly observed 
 her, during the two visits which J had lately made 
 her here ; and I was convinced of ner affection. " 
 
 *^And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried 
 immediate conviction to him.'' 
 
PRIDE AND PllEJUDICE. 
 
 263 
 
 " It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. 
 His diffidence had prevented his depending on his 
 own judgment in so anxious a case, but his re- 
 liance on mine made everything easy. I was 
 obliged to confess one thing, which for a time, and 
 not unjustly, offended him. I could not allow my- 
 self to conceal that your sister had been in town 
 three months last winter, that I had known it, and 
 purposely kept it from him. He was angry. But 
 his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he 
 remained in any doubt of your sister's sentiments. 
 He has heartily forgiven me now.'' 
 
 Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley 
 had been a most delightful friend, so easily guided 
 that his worth was invaluable; but she checked 
 herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn 
 to be laughed at, and it was rather too early to 
 begin. In anticipating the happiness of Bingley, 
 which of course was to be inferior only to his own, 
 he continued the conversation till they reached the 
 house. In the hall they parted. 
 
CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 " My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walk- 
 ing to? was a question which Elizabeth received 
 from Jane as soon as she entered the room, and 
 from all the others when they sat down to table. 
 She had only to say, in reply, that they had wan- 
 dered about till she was beyond her own knowl- 
 edge. She colored as she spoke; but neither that 
 nor anything else awakened a suspicion of the 
 truth. 
 
 The evening passed quietly, unmarked by any- 
 thing extraordinary. The acknowledged lovers 
 talked and laughed; the unacknowledged were 
 silent. Darcy was not of a disposition in which 
 happiness overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth, agi- 
 tated and confused, rather knew that she was happy 
 than/eZ^ herself to be so; for, besides the immedi- 
 ate embarrassment, there were other evils before 
 her. She anticipated what would be felt in the 
 family when her situation became known : she was 
 aware that no one liked him but Jane; and even 
 feared that with the others it was a dislike which 
 not all his fortune and consequence might do 
 away. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 265 
 
 At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though 
 suspicion was very far from Miss Bennet's general 
 habits, she was absolutely incredulous here. 
 
 You are jot,ing, Lizzy. This cannot be ! En- 
 gaged to Mr. Darcy ! No, no, you shall not deceive 
 me: I know it to be impossible." 
 
 *^This is a wretched beginning, indeed! My 
 sole dependence was on you; and I am sure nobody 
 else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, 
 I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. 
 He still loves me, and we are engaged.'' 
 
 Jane looked at her doubtingly. Oh, Lizzy, 
 it cannot be. I know how much you dislike 
 him." 
 
 You know nothing of the matter. That is all 
 to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him 
 so well as I do now; but in such cases as these, a 
 good memory is unpardonable. This is the last 
 time I shall ever remember it myself." 
 
 Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Eliza- 
 beth again, and more seriously, assured her of its 
 truth. 
 
 Good Heaven! can it be really so? Yet now I 
 must believe you," cried Jane. ^^My dear, dear 
 Lizzy, I would, I do congratulate you ; but are you 
 certain — forgive the question — are you quite 
 certain that you can be happy with him? " 
 
 There can be no doubt of that. It is settled 
 between us already that we are to be the happiest 
 
266 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane? 
 Shall you like to have such a brother? 
 
 "Yery, very much. Nothing could give either 
 Bingley or myself more delight. But we consid- 
 ered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you 
 really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy, 
 do anything rather than marry without affection. 
 Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought 
 to do?" 
 
 ^'Oh, yes! You will only think I feel more 
 than I ought to do when I tell you all.'' 
 ^' What do you mean? " 
 
 ^' Why, I must confess that I love him better than 
 I do Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry.'' 
 
 ^'My dearest sister, now be, be serious. I want 
 to talk very seriously. Let me know everything 
 that I am to know without delay. Will you tell 
 me how long you have loved him? " 
 
 ^'It has been coming on so gradually that I 
 hardly know when it began; but I believe I must 
 date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds 
 at Pemberley." 
 
 Another entreaty that she would be serious, 
 however, produced the desired effect; and she soon 
 satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of attach- 
 ment. When convinced on that article. Miss 
 Bennet had nothing further to wish. 
 
 ^^Now lam quite happy," said she, for you 
 W^ill be as happy as myself. I always had a value 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 267 
 
 for him. Were it for nothing hut his love of you, 
 I must always have esteemed him; hut now, as 
 Bingley's friend and your hushand, there can be 
 only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But, 
 Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with 
 me. How little did you tell me of what passed at 
 Pemherley and Lamhton! I owe all that I know 
 of it to another, not to you.^' 
 
 Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. 
 She had been unwilling to mention Bingley; and 
 the unsettled state of her own feelings had made 
 her equally avoid the name of his friend : but now 
 she would no longer conceal from her his share in 
 Lydia's marriage. All was acknowledged, and 
 half the night spent in conversation. 
 
 Good gracious! cried Mrs. Bennet, as she 
 stood at a window the next morning, if that dis- 
 agreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with 
 our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being 
 so tiresome as to be alwaj^s coming here? I had 
 no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something 
 or other, and not disturb us with his company. 
 What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must 
 walk out with him again, that he may not be in 
 Bingley's way.'' 
 
 Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so con- 
 venient a proposal, yet was really vexed that her 
 mother should be always giving him such an 
 epithet. 
 
268 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her 
 so expressively, and shook hands with such warmth, 
 as left no doubt of his good information; and he 
 soon afterwards said aloud, *^Mrs. Bennet, have 
 you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may 
 lose her way again to-day? " 
 
 ^^I advise Mr. Darcy and Lizzy and Kitty, 
 said Mrs. Bennet, ^^to walk to Oakham Mount 
 this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. 
 Darcy has never seen the view.'' 
 
 ^^It may do very well for the others,'* replied 
 Mr. Bingley; ^^but I am sure it will be too much 
 for Kitty. Won't it, Kitty? " 
 
 Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. 
 Darcy professed a great curiosity to see the view 
 from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. 
 As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet 
 followed her, saying, — 
 
 am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be 
 forced to have that disagreeable man all to your- 
 self; but I hope you will not mind it. It is all 
 for Jane's sake, you know; and there is no occa- 
 sion for talking to him except just now and then, 
 so do not put yourself to inconvenience." 
 
 During their walk it was resolved that Mr. 
 Bennet's consent should be asked in the course 
 of the evening. Elizabeth reserved to herself the 
 application for her mother's. She could not de- 
 termine how her mother would take it; some- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 269 
 
 times doubting whether all his wealth and gran- 
 #leur would be enough to overcome her abhorrence 
 of the man; but whether she were violently set 
 *igainst the match, or violently delighted with 
 it, it was certain that her manner would be 
 equally ill adapted to do credit to her sense; and 
 'jh.e could no more bear tliat Mr. Darcy should 
 hear the first raptures of her joy than the first 
 vehemence of her disapprobation. 
 
 In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet with- 
 drew to the library, she saw Mr. Darcy rise also 
 and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it 
 was extreme. She did not fear her father's op- 
 position, but he w^as going to be made unhappy; 
 and that it should be through her means — that 
 she, his favorite child, should be distressing him 
 by her choice, should be filling him with fears 
 and regrets in disposing of her — was a w^-etched 
 reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy 
 appeared again, when, looking at him, she wag 
 a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes 
 he approached the table where she was sitting 
 with Kitty; and while pretending to admire her 
 work, said in a whisper, Go to your father; 
 he wants you in the library.'' She was gone 
 directly. 
 
 Her father was w^alking about the room, look- 
 ing grave and anxious. ^' Lizzy," said he, what 
 are you doing? Are you out of your senses to 
 
270 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 be accepting this man? Have not you always 
 hated him?'' 
 
 How earnestly did she then wish that her for- 
 mer opinions had been more reasonable, her ex- 
 pressions more moderate! It would have spared 
 her from explanations and professions which it 
 was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were 
 now necessary, and she assured him, with some 
 confusion, of her attachment to Mr. Darcy. 
 
 ^^Or, in other words, you are determined to 
 have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may 
 have more fine clothes and fine carriages than 
 Jane. But will they make you happy? '' 
 
 ''Have you any other objection,'' said Eliza- 
 beth, ''than your belief of my indifference?" 
 
 "None at all. We all know him to be a proud, 
 unpleasant sort of man; but this would be noth- 
 ing if you really liked him." 
 
 "I do, I do like him," she replied, with tears 
 in her eyes; "I love him. Indeed he has no im- 
 proper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do 
 not know what he really is; then pray do not 
 pain me by speaking of him in such terms." 
 
 "Lizzy," said her father, "I have given him 
 my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to 
 whom I should never dare refuse anything which 
 he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, 
 if you are resolved on having him. But let me 
 advise you to think better of it. I know your 
 
Pride and Prejudice 
 
 ould not have parted with you, Lizzy, to any one 
 less worthy.' Vol. II., p. 271. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 271 
 
 disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be 
 neither happy nor respectable unless you truly 
 esteemed your husband, unless you looked up to 
 him as a superior. Your lively talents would 
 place you in the greatest danger in an unequal 
 marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit 
 and misery. My child, let me not have the grief 
 of seeing you unable to respect your partner in 
 life. You know not what you are about.'' 
 
 Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and 
 solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated 
 assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object 
 of her choice, by explaining the gradual change 
 which her estimation of him had undergone, re- 
 lating her absolute certainty that his affection 
 was not the work of a day, but had stood the test 
 of many months' suspense, and enumerating with 
 energy all his good qualities, she did conquer 
 her father's incredulity, and reconcile him to the 
 match. 
 
 '^Well, my dear," said he, when she ceased 
 speaking, ^^I have no more to say. If this be 
 the case, he deserves you. I could not have 
 parted with you, my Lizzy, to any one less 
 worthy. " 
 
 To complete the favorable impression, she then 
 told him what Mr. Darcj^ had voluntarily done 
 for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment. 
 
 **This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And 
 
272 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 so Darcy did everything; made up the match, gave 
 the money, paid the fellow's debts, and got him 
 his commission! So much the better. It will 
 save me a world of trouble and economy. Had it 
 been your uncle's doing, I must and would have 
 paid him; but these violent young lovers carry 
 everything their own way. I shall offer to pay 
 him to-morrow; he will rant and storm about his 
 love for you, and there will be an end of the 
 matter." 
 
 He then recollected her embarrassment a fe-w 
 days before on his reading Mr. Collins's letter; 
 and after laughing at her some time, allowed hei 
 at last to go, saying, as she quitted the room, ^' If 
 any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them 
 in, for I am quite at leisure." 
 
 Elizabeth's mind was now relieved from a very 
 heavy weight; and after half an hour's quiet re- 
 flection in her own room, she was able to join the 
 others with tolerable composure. Everything was 
 too recent for gayety, but the evening passed tran- 
 quilly away; there was no longer anything mate- 
 rial to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and 
 familiarity would come in time. 
 
 When her mother went up to her dressing-room 
 at night, she followed her, and made the important 
 communication. Its effect was most extraordinary ; 
 for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, 
 and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it under 
 
PRIDE A^TD PREJUDICE. 
 
 273 
 
 many, many minutes that she could comprehend 
 what she heard, though not in general backward 
 to credit what was for the advantage of her family, 
 or that came in the shape of a lover to any of them. 
 She began at length to recover, to fidget about in 
 her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and 
 bless herself. 
 
 *^Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! 
 Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought 
 it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest 
 Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! 
 What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you 
 will have! Jane's is nothing to it, — nothing at 
 all. I am so pleased, so happy. Such a charm- 
 ing man ! so handsome, so tall ! Oh, my dear 
 Lizzy! pray apologize for my having disliked him 
 so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, 
 dear Lizzy ! A house in town ! Everything that 
 is charming! Three daughters married! Ten 
 thousand a year ! Oh, Lord! what will become of 
 me? I shall go distracted.'' 
 
 This was enough to prove that her approbation 
 need not be doubted; and Elizabeth, rejoicing that 
 such an effusion was heard only by herself, soon 
 went away. But before she had been three min- 
 utes in her own room, her mother followed her. 
 
 '^My dearest child," she cried, ^'I can think of 
 nothing else. Ten thousand a year, and very 
 likely more. 'T is as good as a lord! And a 
 
 VOL. II. — 18 
 
274 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 special license — you must and shall be married by 
 a special license. But, my dearest love, tell me 
 what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I 
 may have it to-morrow.'' 
 
 This was a sad omen of what her mother's be- 
 havior to the gentleman himself might be; and 
 Elizabeth found that though in the certain pos- 
 session of his warmest affection, and secure of her 
 relations' consent, there was still something to be 
 wished for. But the morrow passed off much 
 better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily 
 stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law that 
 she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in 
 her power to offer him any attention, or mark her 
 deference for his opinion. 
 
 Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her 
 father taking pains to get acquainted with him; 
 and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was ris- 
 ing every hour in his esteem. 
 
 ^^I admire rJl my three sons-in-law highly," 
 said he. '^Wickham, perhaps, is my favorite; 
 but I think I shall like your husband quite »8 
 well as Jane's." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness 
 again, she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his 
 having ever fallen in love with her. " How could 
 you hegin? said she. I can comprehend your 
 going on charmingly, when you had once made a 
 beginning; but what could set you off in the first 
 place?'' 
 
 **I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the 
 look, or the words which laid the foundation. It 
 is too long ago. I was in the middle before I 
 knew that I had begun." 
 
 *^My beauty you had early withstood; and as 
 for my manners, — my behavior to you was at least 
 always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke 
 to you without rather wishing to give you pain 
 than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me 
 for my impertinence? " 
 
 For the liveliness of your mind I did." 
 You may as well call it impertinence at once. 
 It was very little less. The fact is that you were 
 sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. 
 You were disgusted with the women who were 
 
276 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 always speaking and looking and thinking for 
 your approbation alone. I roused and interested 
 you, because I was so unlike them. Had you not 
 been really amiable, you would have hated me for 
 it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise 
 yourself, your feelings were always noble and just, 
 and in your heart you thoroughly despised the 
 persons who so assiduously courted yon. There — 
 I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; 
 and really, all things considered, I begin to think 
 it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you know no 
 actual good of me, — but nobody thinks of that 
 when they fall in love.'* 
 
 Was there no good in your affectionate beha- 
 vior to Jane, while she was ill at Netherfield? " 
 
 Dearest Jane! who could have done less for 
 her? But make a virtue of it, by all means. My 
 good qualities are under your protection, and you 
 are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, 
 in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for 
 teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may 
 be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what 
 made you so unwilling to come to the point at 
 last? What made you so shy of me, when you 
 first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, es- 
 pecially, when you called did you look as if you 
 did not care about me? '* 
 
 '^Because you were grave and silent, and gave 
 me no encouragement. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 277 
 
 *^But I was embarrassed.'' 
 And so was I.'' 
 
 "You might have talked to me more when you 
 came to dinner." 
 
 " A man who had felt less might.'' 
 
 " How unlucky that you should have a reason- 
 able answer to give, and that I should be so rea- 
 sonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long 
 you would have gone on, if you had been left to 
 yourself. I wonder when you would have spoken 
 if I had not asked you ! My resolution of thank- 
 ing you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly 
 great effect. Too much I am afraid; for what be- 
 comes of the moral, if our comfort springs from a 
 breach of promise, for I ought not to have men- 
 tioned the subject? This will never do." 
 
 "You need not distress yourself. The moral 
 will be perfectly fair. Lady Catherine's unjustifi- 
 able endeavors to separate us were the means of 
 removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for 
 my present happiness to your eager desire of ex- 
 pressing your gratitude. I was not in a humor to 
 wait for an opening of yours. My aunt's intelli- 
 gence had given me hope, and I was determined a* 
 once to know everything." 
 
 " Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which 
 ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of 
 use. But tell me, what did you come down to 
 Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Long- 
 
278 PKIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 bourn and be embarrassed, or had you intended 
 any more serious consequences?'' 
 
 ^^My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, 
 if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you 
 love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to 
 myself, was to see whether your sister was still 
 partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the 
 confession to him which I have since made." 
 
 Shall you ever have courage to announce to 
 Lady Catherine what is to befall her? " 
 
 "1 am more likely to want time than courage, 
 Elizabeth. But it ought to be done ; and if you 
 will give me a sheet of paper it shall be done 
 directly.'' 
 
 ^'And if I had not a letter to write myself, I 
 might sit by you, and admire the evenness of your 
 writing, as another young lady once did. But 
 I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer 
 neglected." 
 
 From an unwillingness to confess how much her 
 intimacy with Mr. Darcy had been overrated, 
 Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner's 
 long letter; but now, having that to communicate 
 which she knew would be most welcome, she was 
 almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt 
 had already lost three days of happiness, and imx 
 mediately wrote as follows : — 
 
 I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I 
 ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory de- 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 279 
 
 tail of particulars ; but to say the truth, I was too cross 
 to write. You supposed more than really existed. But 
 now suppose as much as you choose ; give a loose to your 
 fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight 
 which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me 
 actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must 
 write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more 
 than you did in your last. I thank you again and again 
 for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as 
 to wish it ? Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We 
 will go round the park every day. I am the happiest 
 creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so 
 before, but no one with such justice. I am happier even 
 than Jane ; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends 
 you all the love in the world that can be spared from 
 me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 Mr. Darcy's letter to Lady Catherine was in a 
 different style ; and still different from either was 
 what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return 
 for his last. 
 
 Dear Sir, — I must trouble you once more for con- 
 gratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. 
 Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. 
 But if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He 
 has more to give. 
 
 Yours sincerely, etc. 
 
 Miss Bingley's congratulations to her brother 
 on his approaching marriage were all that was 
 affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to 
 Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and 
 
280 
 
 PEIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane 
 was not deceived, but she was affected; and 
 though feeling no reliance on her, could not help 
 writing her a much kinder answer than she knew 
 was deserved. 
 
 The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiv- 
 ing similar information was as sincere as her 
 brother's in sending it. Four sides of paper were 
 insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her 
 earnest desire of being loved by her sister. 
 
 Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, 
 or any congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, 
 the Longbourn family heard that the Collinses 
 were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The rea- 
 son of this sudden removal was soon evident. 
 Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly 
 angry by the contents of her nephew's letter, that 
 Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anx- 
 ious to get away till the storm was blown over. 
 At such a moment the arrival of her friend was a 
 sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course 
 of their meetings she must sometimes think the 
 pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy 
 exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility 
 of her husband. He bore it, however, with ad- 
 mirable calmness. He could even listen to Sir 
 William Lucas, when he complimented him on 
 carrying away the brightest jewel of the coun- 
 try, and expressed his hopes of their all meeting 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 281 
 
 frequently at St. James's, with very decent com- 
 posure. If lie did shrug his shoulders, it was not 
 till Sir William was out of sight» 
 
 Mrs. Philips's vulgarity was another, and per- 
 haps a greater tax on his forbearance ; and though 
 Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in too 
 much awe of him to speak with the familiarity 
 which Bingley's good-humor encouraged, yet 
 whenever she did speak, she must he vulgar. Jlor 
 was her respect for him, though it made her more 
 quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant. 
 Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the 
 frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to 
 keep him to herself, and to those of her family 
 with whom he might converse without mortifica- 
 tion; and though the uncomfortable feelings aris- 
 ing from all this took from the season of courtship 
 much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the 
 future; and she looked forward with delight to the 
 time when they should be removed from society so 
 little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and 
 elegance of their family party at Pemberley. 
 
CHAPTER XXVin. 
 
 Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day 
 on which Mrs. Bennet got rid of her two most 
 deserving daughters. With what delighted pride 
 she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of 
 Mrs. Darcy, may be guessed. I wish I could say, 
 for the sake of her family, that the accomplishment 
 of her earnest desire in the establishment of so 
 many of her children produced so happy an effect 
 as to make her a sensible, amiable, well-informed 
 woman for the rest of her life ; though, perhaps, it 
 was lucky for her husband, who might not have 
 relished domestic felicity in so unusual a form, 
 that she still was occasionally nervous and inva- 
 riably silly. 
 
 Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceed- 
 ingly; his affection for her drew him oftener from 
 home than anything else could do. He delighted 
 in going to Pemberley, especially when he was least 
 expected. 
 
 Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield 
 only a twelvemonth. So near a vicinity to her 
 mother and Meryton relations was not desirable 
 even to his easy temper or her affectionate heart. 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 283 
 
 The darling wish of his sisters was then gratified: 
 he bought an estate in a neighboring county to 
 Derbyshire; and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition 
 to every other source of happiness, were within 
 thirty miles of each other. 
 
 Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the 
 chief of her time with her two elder sisters. In 
 society so superior to what she had generally 
 known, her improvement was great. She was not 
 of so ungovernable a temper as Lydia; and removed 
 from the influence of Lydia's example, she became, 
 by proper attention and management, less irritable, 
 less ignorant, and less insipid. From the further 
 disadvantage of Lydia's society she was of course 
 carefully kept; and though Mrs. Wickham fre- 
 quently invited her to come and stay with her, 
 with the promise of balls and young men, her 
 father would never consent to her going. 
 
 Mary was the only daughter who remained at 
 home; and she was necessarily drawn from the 
 pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet's being 
 quite unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to 
 mix more with the world, but she could still mor- 
 alize over every morning visit ; and as she was no 
 longer mortified by comparisons between her sis- 
 cers' beauty and her own, it was suspected by her 
 father that she submitted to the change without 
 much reluctance. 
 
 As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters 
 
284 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 suffered no revolution from the marriage cf her 
 sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction 
 that Elizabeth must now become acquainted with 
 whatever of his ingratitude and falsehood had be- 
 fore been unknown to her; and in spite of every- 
 thing, was not wholly without hope that Darcy 
 might yet be prevailed on to make his fortune. 
 The congratulatory letter which Elizabeth received 
 from Lydia on her marriage explained to her that, 
 by his wife at least, if not by himself, such a hope 
 was cherished. The letter was to this effect : — 
 
 My dear Lizzy, — I wish you joy. If you love Mr. 
 Darcy half so well as I do my dear Wickham, you must 
 be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you so 
 rich ; and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you 
 will think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place 
 at court very much ; and I do not think we shall have 
 quite money enough to live upon without some help. 
 Any place would do of about three or four hundred a 
 year ; but, however, do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it, 
 if you had rather not. 
 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 As it happened that Elizabeth had much rather 
 not, she endeavored in her answer to put an end to 
 every entreaty and expectation of the kind. Such 
 relief^ however, as it was in her power to afford by 
 the practice of what might be called economy in 
 her own private expenses, she frequently sent 
 them. It had always been evident to her that 
 Buch an income as theirs, under the direction of 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 285 
 
 two persons so extravagant in tlieir wants and 
 heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to 
 their support; and whenever they changed their 
 quarters, either Jane or herself was sure of being 
 applied to for some little assistance towards dis- 
 charging their bills. Their manner of living, 
 even when the restoration of peace dismissed them 
 to a home, was unsettled in the extreme. They 
 were always moving from place to place in quest of 
 a cheap situation, and always spending more than 
 they ought. His affection for her soon sunk into in- 
 difference: hers lasted a little longer; and in spite 
 of her youth and her manners, she retained all the 
 claims to reputation which her marriage had given 
 her. 
 
 Though Darcy could never receive him at Pem- 
 berley, yet, for Elizabeth's sake, he assisted him 
 further in his profession. Lydia was occasionally 
 a visitor there, when her husband was gone to 
 enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the 
 Bingleys they both of them frequently stayed so 
 long that even Bingley's good-humor was over- 
 come, and he proceeded so far as to talk of giving 
 them a hint to be gone. 
 
 Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by 
 Darcy's marriage; but as she thought it advisable 
 to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she 
 dropped all her resentment ; was fonder than ever of 
 Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as here- 
 
286 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 tofore, and paid off every arrear of civility to 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 Pemberley was now Georgiana's home; and the 
 attachment of the sisters was exactly what Darcy 
 had hoped to see. They were able to love each 
 other, even as well as they intended. Georgiana 
 had the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth; 
 though at first she often listened with an astonish- 
 ment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive 
 manner of talking to her brother. He, who had 
 always inspired in herself a respect which almost 
 overcame her affection, she now saw the object of 
 open pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge 
 which had never before fallen in her way. By 
 Elizabeth's instructions she began to comprehend 
 that a woman may take liberties with her husband 
 which a brother will not always allow in a sister 
 more than ten years younger than himself. 
 
 Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the 
 marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to 
 all the genuine frankness of her character, in her 
 reply to the letter which announced its arrange- 
 ment, she sent him language so very abusive, 
 especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all in- 
 tercourse was at an end. But at length, by Eliza- 
 beth's persuasion, he was prevailed on to overlook 
 the offence and seek a reconciliation ; and after a 
 little further resistance on the part of his aunt, 
 her resentment gave way, either to her affection 
 
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 287 
 
 for him, or her curiosity to see how his wife 
 conducted herself; and she condescended to wait 
 on them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution 
 which its woods had received, not merely from the 
 presence of such a mistress, but the visits of her 
 uncle and aunt from the city. 
 
 With the Gardiners they were always on the 
 most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, 
 really loved them; and they were both ever sensi- 
 ble of the warmest gratitude towards the persons 
 who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had beei> 
 the means of uniting them. 
 
 THE END.