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chapter 51 their sister's wedding day arrived; andjane 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 missbennets, and jane more especially, who gave lydia the feelings which would haveattended herself, had she been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what hersister must endure. they came.the family were assembled in the breakfast

room to receive them. smiles decked the face of mrs. bennet asthe carriage drove up to the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; herdaughters, 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, towickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy with an alacrity which shewedno doubt of their happiness. their reception from mr. bennet, to whomthey then turned, was not quite so cordial.

his 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 missbennet was shocked. lydia was lydia still; untamed, unabashed,wild, noisy, and fearless. she turned from sister to sister, demandingtheir congratulations; and when at length they all sat down, looked eagerly round theroom, took notice of some little alteration in it, and observed, with a laugh, that itwas a great while since she had been there. wickham was not at all more distressed thanherself, but his manners were always so pleasing, that had his character and hismarriage been exactly what they ought, his

smiles and his easy address, while he claimed their relationship, would havedelighted them all. elizabeth had not before believed him quiteequal to such assurance; but she sat down, resolving within herself to draw no limitsin future to the impudence of an impudent man. she blushed, and jane blushed; but thecheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of colour.there was no want of discourse. the bride and her mother could neither ofthem talk fast enough; and wickham, who happened to sit near elizabeth, beganinquiring after his acquaintance in that

neighbourhood, with a good humoured ease which she felt very unable to equal in herreplies. they seemed each of them to have thehappiest memories in the world. nothing of the past was recollected withpain; and lydia led voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded tofor the world. "only think of its being three months," shecried, "since i went away; it seems but a fortnight i declare; and yet there havebeen things enough happened in the time. good gracious! when i went away, i am surei had no more idea of being married till i came back again! though i thought it wouldbe very good fun if i was."

her father lifted up his eyes. jane was distressed. elizabeth looked expressively at lydia; butshe, who never heard nor saw anything of which she chose to be insensible, gailycontinued, "oh! mamma, do the people hereabouts know i am married to-day? i was afraid they might not; and weovertook william goulding in his curricle, so i was determined he should know it, andso i let down the side-glass next to him, and took off my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, so that hemight 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; andreturned no more, till she heard them passing through the hall to the diningparlour. she then joined them soon enough to seelydia, with anxious parade, walk up to her mother's right hand, and hear her say toher eldest sister, "ah! jane, i take your place now, and you must go lower, because iam a married woman." it was not to be supposed that time wouldgive lydia that embarrassment from which she had been so wholly free at first. her ease and good spirits increased.

she longed to see mrs. phillips, thelucases, and all their other neighbours, and to hear herself called "mrs. wickham"by each of them; and in the mean time, she went after dinner to show her ring, and boast of being married, to mrs. hill andthe two housemaids. "well, mamma," said she, when they were allreturned 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 goodluck. 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 yourgoing 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 comedown and see us. we shall be at newcastle all the winter,and i dare say there will be some balls, and i will take care to get good partnersfor them all."

"i should like it beyond anything!" saidher mother. "and then when you go away, you may leaveone or two of my sisters behind you; and i dare say i shall get husbands for thembefore the winter is over." "i thank you for my share of the favour,"said elizabeth; "but i do not particularly like your way of getting husbands."their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. mr. wickham had received his commissionbefore he left london, and he was to join his regiment at the end of a fortnight. no one but mrs. bennet regretted that theirstay would be so short; and she made the

most of the time by visiting about with herdaughter, and having very frequent parties at home. these parties were acceptable to all; toavoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did think, than suchas did not. wickham's affection for lydia was just whatelizabeth had expected to find it; not equal to lydia's for him. she had scarcely needed her presentobservation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that their elopement hadbeen brought on by the strength of her love, rather than by his; and she would

have wondered why, without violently caringfor her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain that his flightwas rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist anopportunity 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; andshe was sure he would kill more birds on the first of september, than any body elsein the country.

one morning, soon after their arrival, asshe 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 theothers all about it. are not you curious to hear how it wasmanaged?" "no really," replied elizabeth; "i thinkthere 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 gotogether; and the others were to meet us at the church.well, monday morning came, and i was in such a fuss! i was so afraid, you know, that somethingwould happen to put it off, and then i should have gone quite distracted. and there was my aunt, all the time i wasdressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a sermon.

however, i did not hear above one word inten, 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 asusual; i thought it would never be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand,that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time i was with them. if you'll believe me, i did not once put myfoot out of doors, though i was there a fortnight.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 tothe door, my uncle was called away upon business to that horrid man mr. stone. and then, you know, when once they gettogether, there is no end of it. well, i was so frightened i did not knowwhat to do, for my uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond the hour, wecould not be married all day. but, luckily, he came back again in tenminutes' time, and then we all set out. however, i recollected afterwards that ifhe had been prevented going, the wedding need not be put off, for mr. darcy mighthave done as well." "mr. darcy!" repeated elizabeth, in utteramazement.

"oh, yes!--he was to come there withwickham, you know. but gracious me! i quite forgot!i ought not to have said a word about it. i promised them so faithfully!what will wickham say? it was to be such a secret!" "if it was to be secret," said jane, "saynot another word on the subject. you may depend upon my seeking no further." "oh! certainly," said elizabeth, thoughburning with curiosity; "we will ask you no questions."

"thank you," said lydia, "for if you did, ishould certainly tell you all, and then wickham would be angry." on such encouragement to ask, elizabeth wasforced to put it out of her power, by running away. but to live in ignorance on such a pointwas impossible; or at least it was impossible not to try for information.mr. darcy had been at her sister's wedding. it was exactly a scene, and exactly amongpeople, where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapidand wild, hurried into her brain; but she

was satisfied with none. those that best pleased her, as placing hisconduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. she could not bear such suspense; andhastily seizing a sheet of paper, wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request anexplanation of what lydia had dropt, if it were compatible with the secrecy which hadbeen 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 atsuch a time.

pray write instantly, and let me understandit--unless it is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which lydia seemsto think necessary; and then i must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance." "not that i shall, though," she added toherself, as she finished the letter; "and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in anhonourable manner, i shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find itout." jane's delicate sense of honour would notallow her to speak to elizabeth privately of what lydia had let fall; elizabeth wasglad of it;--till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any satisfaction,she had rather be without a confidante.

> chapter 52 elizabeth had the satisfaction of receivingan answer to her letter as soon as she possibly could. she was no sooner in possession of it than,hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be interrupted, she satdown on one of the benches and prepared to be happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not contain adenial. "gracechurch street, sept.6.

"my dear niece, "i have just received your letter, andshall devote this whole morning to answering it, as i foresee that a littlewriting will not comprise what i have to tell you. i must confess myself surprised by yourapplication; i did not expect it from you. don't think me angry, however, for i onlymean to let you know that i had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary onyour 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 toact as he has done. but if you are really innocent andignorant, i must be more explicit. "on the very day of my coming home fromlongbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. mr. darcy called, and was shut up with himseveral hours. it was all over before i arrived; so mycuriosity was not so dreadfully racked as yours seems to have been. he came to tell mr. gardiner that he hadfound out where your sister and mr. wickham were, and that he had seen and talked withthem both; wickham repeatedly, lydia once.

from what i can collect, he left derbyshireonly one day after ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting forthem. the motive professed was his conviction ofits being owing to himself that wickham's worthlessness had not been so well known asto make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. he generously imputed the whole to hismistaken pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay hisprivate actions open to the world. his character was to speak for itself. he called it, therefore, his duty to stepforward, and endeavour to remedy 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 hewas able to discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which wasmore than we had; and the consciousness of this was another reason for his resolvingto 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 onsome cause of disapprobation, 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, intimatelyacquainted with wickham; and he went to her for intelligence of him as soon as he gotto town. but it was two or three days before hecould 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 befound. wickham indeed had gone to her on theirfirst arrival in london, and had she been able to receive them into her house, theywould have taken up their abode with her. at length, however, our kind friendprocured the wished-for direction.

they were in ---- street.he saw wickham, 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 returnto her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, offering hisassistance, as far as it would go. but he found lydia absolutely resolved onremaining where she was. she cared for none of her friends; shewanted no help of his; she would not hear of leaving wickham. she was sure they should be married sometime or other, and it did not much signify

when. since such were her feelings, it onlyremained, he thought, to secure and expedite a marriage, which, in his veryfirst conversation with wickham, he easily learnt had never been his design. he confessed himself obliged to leave theregiment, on account of some debts of honour, which were very pressing; andscrupled not to lay all the ill- consequences of lydia's flight on her ownfolly alone. he meant to resign his commissionimmediately; and as to his future situation, he could conjecture very littleabout it.

he must go somewhere, but he did not knowwhere, and he knew he should have nothing to live on."mr. darcy asked him why he had not married your sister at once. though mr. bennet was not imagined to bevery rich, he would have been able to do something for him, and his situation musthave been benefited by marriage. but he found, in reply to this question,that wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making his fortune bymarriage in some other country. under such circumstances, however, he wasnot likely to be proof against the temptation of immediate relief."they met several times, for there was much

to be discussed. wickham of course wanted more than he couldget; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. "every thing being settled between them,mr. darcy's next step was to make your uncle acquainted with it, and he firstcalled 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 quittown the next morning. he did not judge your father to be a personwhom he could so properly consult as your

uncle, and therefore readily postponedseeing him till after the departure of the former. he did not leave his name, and till thenext 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: assoon as it was, the express was sent off to longbourn.but our visitor was very obstinate.

i fancy, lizzy, that obstinacy is the realdefect of his character, after all. he has been accused of many faults atdifferent times, but this is the true one. nothing was to be done that he did not dohimself; though i am sure (and i do not speak it to be thanked, therefore saynothing 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 concerned 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 withonly having the probable credit of it,

which went sorely against the grain; and i really believe your letter this morninggave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that would rob himof his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where it was due. but, lizzy, this must go no farther thanyourself, or jane at most. "you know pretty well, i suppose, what hasbeen done for the young people. his debts are to be paid, amounting, ibelieve, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another thousand inaddition to her own settled upon her, and his commission purchased.

the reason why all this was to be done byhim alone, was such as i have given above. it was owing to him, to his reserve andwant of proper consideration, that wickham's character had been somisunderstood, 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 forthe event. but in spite of all this fine talking, mydear lizzy, you may rest perfectly 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 returnedagain to his friends, who were still staying at pemberley; but it was agreedthat he should be in london once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to receive the lastfinish. "i believe i have now told you every thing. it is a relation which you tell me is togive 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 iknew him in hertfordshire; but i would not

tell you how little i was satisfied withher behaviour while she staid with us, if i had not perceived, by jane's letter last wednesday, that her conduct on coming homewas exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what i now tell you can give youno fresh pain. i talked to her repeatedly in the mostserious manner, representing to her all the wickedness of what she had done, and allthe unhappiness she had brought on her family. if she heard me, it was by good luck, for iam sure she did not listen. i was sometimes quite provoked, but then irecollected my dear elizabeth and jane, and

for their sakes had patience with her. "mr. darcy was punctual in his return, andas lydia informed you, attended 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 dearlizzy, if i take this opportunity of saying (what i was never bold enough to saybefore) how much i like him. his behaviour to us has, in every respect,been as pleasing as when we were in derbyshire. his understanding and opinions all pleaseme; he wants nothing but a little more

liveliness, and that, if he marryprudently, his wife may teach him. i thought him very sly;--he hardly evermentioned your name. but slyness seems the fashion. "pray forgive me if i have been verypresuming, 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 ofponies, 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 elizabethinto a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure orpain bore the greatest share. the vague and unsettled suspicions whichuncertainty had produced of what mr. darcy might have been doing to forward hersister's match, which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness too great to be probable, and at the same timedreaded to be just, from the pain of obligation, were proved beyond theirgreatest extent to be true! he had followed them purposely to town, hehad 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 finally bribe, the man whom he always mostwished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce. he had done all this for a girl whom hecould neither regard nor esteem. her heart did whisper that he had done itfor her. but it was a hope shortly checked by otherconsiderations, and she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient, when requiredto depend on his affection for her--for a

woman who had already refused him--as able to overcome a sentiment so natural asabhorrence against relationship with wickham.brother-in-law of wickham! every kind of pride must revolt from theconnection. he had, to be sure, done much.she was ashamed to think how much. but he had given a reason for hisinterference, which asked no extraordinary stretch of belief. it was reasonable that he should feel hehad been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and thoughshe would not place herself as his

principal inducement, she could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for hermight assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materiallyconcerned. it was painful, exceedingly painful, toknow that they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a return.they owed the restoration of lydia, her character, every thing, to him. oh! how heartily did she grieve over everyungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had everdirected towards him. for herself she was humbled; but she wasproud of him.

proud that in a cause of compassion andhonour, he had been able to get the better of himself. she read over her aunt's commendation ofhim 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 beenpersuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between mr. darcy and herself. she was roused from her seat, and herreflections, by some one's approach; and before she could strike into another path,she was overtaken by wickham.

"i am afraid i interrupt your solitaryramble, my dear sister?" said he, as he joined her. "you certainly do," she replied with asmile; "but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.""i should be sorry indeed, if it were. we were always good friends; and now we arebetter." "true.are the others coming out?" "i do not know. mrs. bennet and lydia are going in thecarriage to meryton. and so, my dear sister, i find, from ouruncle 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, orelse i could take it in my way to newcastle. and you saw the old housekeeper, i suppose?poor reynolds, 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 shewas afraid had--not turned out well.

at such a distance as that, you know,things are strangely misrepresented." "certainly," he replied, biting his lips.elizabeth hoped she had silenced him; but he soon afterwards said: "i was surprised to see darcy in town lastmonth. we passed each other several times.i wonder what he can be doing there." "perhaps preparing for his marriage withmiss de bourgh," said elizabeth. "it must be something particular, to takehim there at this time of year." "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 ortwo. when i last saw her, she was not verypromising. i am very glad you liked her.i hope she will turn out well." "i dare say she will; she has got over themost trying age." "did you go by the village of kympton?""i do not recollect that we did." "i mention it, because it is the livingwhich i ought to have had.

a most delightful place!--excellentparsonage 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 myduty, 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 lifewould 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 ithought as good, that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will of thepresent patron." "you have. yes, there was something in that; i toldyou 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 youactually declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business hadbeen compromised accordingly." "you did! and it was not wholly withoutfoundation.

you may remember what i told you on thatpoint, when first we talked of it." they were now almost at the door of thehouse, for she had walked fast to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister'ssake, to provoke him, she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile: "come, mr. wickham, we are brother andsister, 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 withaffectionate gallantry, though he hardly knew how to look, and they entered thehouse.

chapter 53 mr. wickham was so perfectly satisfied withthis conversation that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dearsister elizabeth, by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to findthat she had said enough to keep him quiet. the day of his and lydia's departure sooncame, and mrs. bennet was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband byno means entered into her scheme of their all going to newcastle, was likely tocontinue at least a twelvemonth. "oh! my dear lydia," she cried, "when shallwe meet again?" "oh, 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 muchtime for writing. my sisters may write to me.they will have nothing else to do." mr. wickham's adieus were much moreaffectionate than his wife's. he smiled, looked handsome, and said manypretty things. "he is as fine a fellow," said mr. bennet,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. "i often think," said she, "that there isnothing 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 thatyour other four are single." "it is no such thing. lydia does not leave me because she ismarried, but only because her husband's

regiment happens to be so far off.if that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon." but the spiritless condition which thisevent threw her into was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitationof hope, by an article of news which then began to be in circulation. the housekeeper at netherfield had receivedorders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming down in a day ortwo, to shoot there for several weeks. mrs. bennet was quite in the fidgets. she looked at jane, and smiled and shookher head by turns.

"well, well, and so mr. bingley is comingdown, sister," (for mrs. phillips 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 amsure i never want to see him again. but, however, he is very welcome to come tonetherfield, if he likes it. and who knows what may happen?but that is nothing to us. you know, sister, we agreed long ago neverto mention a word about it. and so, is it quite certain he is coming?" "you may depend on it," replied the other,"for mrs. nicholls was in meryton last

night; i saw her passing by, and went outmyself on purpose to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certain true. he comes down on thursday at the latest,very likely on wednesday. she was going to the butcher's, she toldme, on purpose to order in some meat on wednesday, and she has got three couple ofducks just fit to be killed." miss bennet had not been able to hear ofhis coming without changing colour. it was many months since she had mentionedhis name to elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said: "i saw you look at me to-day, lizzy, whenmy aunt told us of the present report; and

i know i appeared distressed.but don't imagine it was from any silly cause. i was only confused for the moment, becausei felt that i should be looked at. i do assure you that the news does notaffect me either with pleasure or pain. i am glad of one thing, that he comesalone; because we shall see the less of him.not 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, shemight have supposed him capable of coming

there with no other view than what wasacknowledged; but she still thought him partial to jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming therewith 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 raisingall this speculation! i will leave him to himself." in spite of what her sister declared, andreally believed to be her feelings in the expectation of his arrival, elizabeth couldeasily 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 warmlycanvassed between their parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forwardagain. "as soon as ever mr. bingley comes, mydear," 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 absolutelynecessary such an attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on hisreturning 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 running aftermy neighbours every time they go away and come back again." "well, all i know is, that it will beabominably rude if you do not wait on him. but, however, that shan't prevent my askinghim to dine here, i am determined. we must have mrs. long and the gouldingssoon.

that will make thirteen with ourselves, sothere will be just room at table for him." consoled by this resolution, she was thebetter able to bear her husband's incivility; though it was very mortifyingto know that her neighbours might all see mr. bingley, in consequence of it, beforethey did. as the day of his arrival drew near:"i begin to be sorry that he comes at all," said jane to her sister. "it would be nothing; i could see him withperfect indifference, but i can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. my mother means well; but she does notknow, no one can know, how much i suffer

from what she says.happy shall i be, when his stay at netherfield is over!" "i wish i could say anything to comfortyou," replied elizabeth; "but it is wholly out of my power. you must feel it; and the usualsatisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you havealways so much." mr. bingley arrived. mrs. bennet, through the assistance ofservants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxietyand fretfulness on her side might be as

long as it could. she counted the days that must intervenebefore their invitation could be sent; hopeless of seeing him before. but on the third morning after his arrivalin hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressing-room window, enter the paddock andride towards the house. her daughters were eagerly called topartake of her joy. jane resolutely kept her place at thetable; 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?" "some acquaintance or other, my dear, isuppose; i am sure i do not know." "la!" replied kitty, "it looks just likethat man that used to be with him before. mr. what's-his-name.that tall, proud man." "good gracious! mr. darcy!--and so it does, i vow.well, any friend of mr. bingley's will always be welcome here, to be sure; butelse i must say that i hate the very sight of him." jane looked at elizabeth with surprise andconcern.

she knew but little of their meeting inderbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness which must attend her sister,in seeing him almost for the first time after receiving his explanatory letter. both sisters were uncomfortable enough. each felt for the other, and of course forthemselves; and their mother talked on, of her dislike of mr. darcy, and herresolution to be civil to him only as mr. bingley's friend, without being heard byeither of them. but elizabeth had sources of uneasinesswhich could not be suspected by jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to shewmrs. gardiner's letter, or to relate her

own change of sentiment towards him. to jane, he could be only a man whoseproposals she had refused, and whose merit she had undervalued; but to her own moreextensive information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted for the first of benefits, and whom she regardedherself with an interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just aswhat jane felt for bingley. her astonishment at his coming--at hiscoming to netherfield, to longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, was almostequal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour inderbyshire.

the colour which had been driven from herface, returned for half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delightadded lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affectionand wishes must still be unshaken. but she would not be secure. "let me first see how he behaves," saidshe; "it will then be early enough for expectation." she sat intently at work, striving to becomposed, and without daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried themto the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the door.

jane looked a little paler than usual, butmore sedate than elizabeth had expected. on the gentlemen's appearing, her colourincreased; yet she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety ofbehaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance. elizabeth said as little to either ascivility would allow, and sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which it didnot often command. she had ventured only one glance at darcy. he looked serious, as usual; and, shethought, more as he had been used to look in hertfordshire, than as she had seen himat pemberley.

but, perhaps he could not in her mother'spresence be what he was before her uncle and aunt.it was a painful, but not an improbable, conjecture. bingley, she had likewise seen for aninstant, and in that short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. he was received by mrs. bennet with adegree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, especially whencontrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address tohis friend. elizabeth, particularly, who knew that hermother owed to the latter the preservation

of her favourite daughter from irremediableinfamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so illapplied. darcy, after inquiring of her how mr. andmrs. gardiner did, a question which she could not answer without confusion, saidscarcely anything. he was not seated by her; perhaps that wasthe 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 withoutbringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist the impulseof curiosity, she raised her eyes to his

face, she as often found him looking at jane as at herself, and frequently on noobject but the ground. more thoughtfulness and less anxiety toplease, than when they last met, were plainly expressed. she was disappointed, and angry withherself for being so. "could i expect it to be otherwise!" saidshe. "yet why did he come?" she was in no humour for conversation withanyone 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 youwent away," said mrs. bennet. he readily agreed to it."i began to be afraid you would never come back again. people did say you meant to quit the placeentirely at michaelmas; but, however, i hope it is not true.a great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. miss lucas is married and settled.and one of my own daughters. i suppose you have heard of it; indeed, youmust have seen it in the papers.

it was in the times and the courier, iknow; 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 theplace where she lived, or anything. it was my brother gardiner's drawing uptoo, 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 hiscongratulations. elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes.how mr. darcy looked, therefore, she could not tell.

"it is a delightful thing, to be sure, tohave a daughter well married," continued her mother, "but at the same time, mr.bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. they are gone down to newcastle, a placequite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay i do not know how long. his regiment is there; for i suppose youhave heard of his leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the regulars.thank heaven! he has some friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves." elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled atmr. darcy, was in such misery of shame,

that she could hardly keep her seat. it drew from her, however, the exertion ofspeaking, which nothing else had so effectually done before; and she askedbingley 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 youwill come here, and shoot as many as you please on mr. bennet's manor. i am sure he will be vastly happy to obligeyou, and will save all the best of the covies for you."elizabeth's misery increased, at such

unnecessary, such officious attention! were the same fair prospect to arise atpresent as had flattered them a year ago, every thing, she was persuaded, would behastening to the same vexatious conclusion. at that instant, she felt that years ofhappiness could not make jane or herself amends for moments of such painfulconfusion. "the first wish of my heart," said she toherself, "is never more 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 otheragain!"

yet the misery, for which years ofhappiness were to offer no compensation, received soon afterwards material relief,from observing how much the beauty of her sister re-kindled the admiration of herformer lover. when first he came in, he had spoken to herbut little; but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. he found her as handsome as she had beenlast year; as good natured, and as unaffected, though not quite so chatty. jane was anxious that no difference shouldbe perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that she talked as much as ever.

but her mind was so busily engaged, thatshe 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 engagedto dine at longbourn in a few days time. "you are quite a visit in my debt, mr.bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take afamily dinner with us, as soon as you returned. i have not forgot, you see; and i assureyou, i was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep yourengagement."

bingley looked a little silly at thisreflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented bybusiness. they then went away. mrs. bennet had been strongly inclined toask them to stay and dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very goodtable, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs, orsatisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year. chapter 54

as soon as they were gone, elizabeth walkedout to recover her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption onthose subjects that must deaden them more. mr. darcy's behaviour astonished and vexedher. "why, 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 herpleasure. "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?

teasing, teasing, man!i will think no more about him." her resolution was for a short timeinvoluntarily kept by the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerfullook, which showed her better satisfied with their visitors, than elizabeth. "now," said she, "that this first meetingis over, i feel perfectly easy. i know my own strength, and i shall neverbe embarrassed again by his coming. i am glad he dines here on tuesday. it will then be publicly seen that, on bothsides, 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 ofmaking him as much in love with you as ever." they did not see the gentlemen again tilltuesday; and mrs. bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes,which the good humour and common politeness of bingley, in half an hour's visit, hadrevived. on tuesday there was a large partyassembled at longbourn; and the two who

were most anxiously expected, to the creditof 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 alltheir former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. her prudent mother, occupied by the sameideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. on entering the room, he seemed tohesitate; 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 indifference, and shewould have imagined that bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had shenot seen his eyes likewise turned towards mr. darcy, with an expression of half-laughing alarm. his behaviour to her sister was such,during dinner time, as showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded thanformerly, persuaded elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself, jane's happiness, andhis own, would be speedily secured. though she dared not depend upon theconsequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour.

it gave her all the animation that herspirits could boast; for she was in no cheerful humour.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 situation would give pleasure to either, or make eitherappear to advantage. she was not near enough to hear any oftheir discourse, but she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and howformal and cold was their manner whenever they did. her mother's ungraciousness, made the senseof what they owed him more painful to

elizabeth's mind; and she would, at times,have given anything to be privileged to tell him that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of thefamily. she was in hopes that the evening wouldafford some opportunity of bringing them together; that the whole of the visit wouldnot pass away without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutationattending his entrance. anxious and uneasy, the period which passedin the drawing-room, before the gentlemen came, was wearisome and dull to a degreethat almost made her uncivil.

she looked forward to their entrance as thepoint 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 for ever." the gentlemen came; and she thought helooked as if he would have answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowdedround the table, where miss bennet was making tea, and elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy thatthere was not a single vacancy near her which would admit of a chair. and on the gentlemen's approaching, one ofthe girls moved closer to her than ever,

and said, in a whisper:"the men shan't come and part us, i am determined. we want none of them; do we?"darcy had walked away to another part of she followed him with her eyes, enviedeveryone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee;and then was enraged against herself for being so silly! "a 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 notprotest 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 hisbringing back his coffee cup himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying:"is your sister at pemberley still?" "yes, she will remain there tillchristmas." "and quite alone?have all her friends left her?" "mrs. annesley is with her. the others have been gone on toscarborough, these three weeks." she could think of nothing more to say; butif 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, hewalked away. when the tea-things were removed, and thecard-tables placed, the ladies all rose, and elizabeth was then hoping to be soonjoined 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 expectation of pleasure. they were confined for the evening atdifferent tables, and she had nothing to

hope, but that his eyes were so oftenturned towards her side of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself. mrs. bennet had designed to keep the twonetherfield gentlemen to supper; but their carriage was unluckily ordered before anyof the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them. "well girls," said she, as soon as theywere left to themselves, "what say you to the day?i think every thing has passed off uncommonly well, i assure you. the dinner was as well dressed as any iever saw.

the venison was roasted to a turn--andeverybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. the soup was fifty times better than whatwe had at the lucases' last week; and even mr. darcy acknowledged, that the partridgeswere remarkably well done; and i suppose he has two or three french cooks at least. and, my dear jane, i never saw you look ingreater beauty. mrs. long said so too, for i asked herwhether you did not. and what do you think she said besides? 'ah! mrs. bennet, we shall have her atnetherfield at last.'

she did indeed. i do think mrs. long is as good a creatureas ever lived--and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at allhandsome: i like them prodigiously." mrs. bennet, in short, was in very greatspirits; she had seen enough of bingley's behaviour to jane, to be convinced that shewould get him at last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy humour, were so far beyond reason, that shewas quite disappointed at not seeing him there again the next day, to make hisproposals. "it has been a very agreeable day," saidmiss bennet to elizabeth.

"the party seemed so well selected, sosuitable one with the other. i hope we may often meet again." elizabeth smiled."lizzy, you must not do so. you must not suspect me.it mortifies me. i assure you that i have now learnt toenjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man, without having a wishbeyond it. i am perfectly satisfied, from what hismanners now are, that he never had any design of engaging my affection. it is only that he is blessed with greatersweetness of address, and a stronger desire

of generally pleasing, than any other man." "you are very cruel," said her sister, "youwill 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?""that is a question which i hardly know how to answer. we all love to instruct, though we canteach only what is not worth knowing. forgive me; and if you persist inindifference, do not make me your

confidante." chapter 55 a few days after this visit, mr. bingleycalled again, and alone. his friend had left him that morning forlondon, but was to return home in ten days he sat with them above an hour, and was inremarkably good spirits. mrs. bennet invited him to dine with them;but, with many expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere. "next time you call," said she, "i hope weshall be more lucky." he should be particularly happy at anytime, etc. etc.; and if she would give him

leave, would take an early opportunity ofwaiting 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, indeed.make haste, make haste.

here, sarah, come to miss bennet thismoment, and help her on with her gown. never mind miss lizzy's hair." "we will be down as soon as we can," saidjane; "but i dare say kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairshalf an hour ago." "oh! hang kitty! what has she to do withit? come be quick, be quick!where is your sash, my dear?" but when her mother was gone, jane wouldnot 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. bennet retired to thelibrary, as was his custom, and mary went up stairs to her instrument. two obstacles of the five being thusremoved, mrs. bennet sat looking and winking at elizabeth and catherine for aconsiderable time, without making any impression on them. elizabeth would not observe her; and whenat 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; butunable to waste such a precious occasion, she suddenly got up, and saying to kitty,"come here, my love, i want to speak to you," took her out of the room. jane instantly gave a look at elizabethwhich spoke her distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty that shewould not give in to it. in a few minutes, mrs. bennet half-openedthe 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 themselvesyou 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 withher 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 wereineffectual. bingley was every thing that was charming,except the professed lover of her daughter. his ease and cheerfulness rendered him amost agreeable addition to their evening party; and he bore with the ill-judgedofficiousness of the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance particularlygrateful to the daughter.

he scarcely needed an invitation to staysupper; and before he went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through hisown and mrs. bennet's means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband. after this day, jane said no more of herindifference. not a word passed between the sistersconcerning bingley; but elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all mustspeedily be concluded, unless mr. darcy returned within the stated time. seriously, however, she felt tolerablypersuaded 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 follyin bingley that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into silence; and he wasmore communicative, and less eccentric, than the other had ever seen him. bingley of course returned with him todinner; and in the evening mrs. bennet's invention was again at work to get everybody away from him and her daughter. elizabeth, who had a letter to write, wentinto the breakfast room for that purpose

soon after tea; for as the others were allgoing to sit down to cards, she could not be wanted to counteract her mother'sschemes. but on returning to the drawing-room, whenher letter was finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fearthat her mother had been too ingenious for her. on opening the door, she perceived hersister and bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in earnestconversation; and had this led to no suspicion, the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away fromeach other, would have told it all.

their situation was awkward enough; buthers she thought was still worse. not a syllable was uttered by either; andelizabeth was on the point of going away again, when bingley, who as well as theother had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few words to her sister, ranout of the room. jane could have no reserves from elizabeth,where confidence would give pleasure; and instantly embracing her, acknowledged, withthe liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world. "'tis too much!" she added, "by far toomuch. i do not deserve it.oh! why is not everybody as happy?"

elizabeth's congratulations were given witha 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 staywith her sister, or say half that remained to be said for the present."i must go instantly to my mother;" she cried. "i would not on any account trifle with heraffectionate solicitude; or allow her to hear it from anyone but myself.he is gone to my father already. oh! lizzy, to know that what i have torelate will give such pleasure to all my

dear family! how shall i bear so muchhappiness!" she then hastened away to her mother, whohad purposely broken up the card party, and was sitting up stairs with kitty. elizabeth, who was left by herself, nowsmiled at the rapidity and ease with which an affair was finally settled, that hadgiven them so many previous months of suspense and vexation. "and this," said she, "is the end of allhis friend's anxious circumspection! of all his sister's falsehood and contrivance! thehappiest, wisest, 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 up stairs.she will be down in a moment, i dare say." he then shut the door, and, coming up toher, claimed the good wishes and affection of a sister. elizabeth honestly and heartily expressedher delight in the prospect of their relationship. they shook hands with great cordiality; andthen, till her sister came down, she had to listen to all he had to say of his ownhappiness, and of jane's perfections; and

in spite of his being a lover, elizabeth really believed all his expectations offelicity to be rationally founded, because they had for basis the excellentunderstanding, and super-excellent disposition of jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between herand himself. it was an evening of no common delight tothem all; the satisfaction of miss bennet's mind gave a glow of such sweet animation toher face, as made her look handsomer than ever. kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped herturn was coming soon.

mrs. bennet could not give her consent orspeak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talkedto bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when mr. bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showedhow really happy he was. not a word, however, passed his lips inallusion to it, till their visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he wasgone, 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 ihave great pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled.i have not a doubt of your doing very well together. your tempers are by no means unlike. you are each of you so complying, thatnothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and sogenerous, that you will always exceed your income." "i hope not so.imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be unpardonable in me.""exceed their income!

my dear mr. bennet," cried his wife, "whatare 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 shan't get a wink of sleep allnight. 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, whenhe first came into hertfordshire last year, i thought how likely it was that you shouldcome together.

oh! he is the handsomest young man thatever was seen!" wickham, lydia, were all forgotten.jane was beyond competition her favourite child. at that moment, she cared for no other.her younger sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happinesswhich she might in future be able to dispense. mary petitioned for the use of the libraryat netherfield; and kitty begged very hard for a few balls there every winter. bingley, from this time, was of course adaily visitor at longbourn; coming

frequently before breakfast, and alwaysremaining till after supper; unless when some barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough detested, had given him aninvitation to dinner which he thought himself obliged to accept. elizabeth had now but little time forconversation with her sister; for while he was present, jane had no attention tobestow on anyone else; but she found herself considerably useful to both of them in those hours of separation that mustsometimes occur. in the absence of jane, he always attachedhimself 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, oneevening, "by telling me that he was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring!i had not believed it possible." "i suspected as much," replied elizabeth. "but how did he account for it?""it must have been his sister's doing. they were certainly no friends to hisacquaintance with me, which i cannot wonder at, since he might have chosen so much moreadvantageously in many respects. but when they see, as i trust they will,that their brother is happy with me, they

will learn to be contented, and we shall beon good terms again; though we can never be what we once were to each other." "that is the most unforgiving speech," saidelizabeth, "that i ever heard you utter. good girl! it would vex me, indeed, to see you againthe dupe of miss bingley's pretended regard." "would you believe it, lizzy, that when hewent to town last november, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of mybeing indifferent would have prevented his coming down again!"

"he made a little mistake to be sure; butit is to the credit of his modesty." this naturally introduced a panegyric fromjane on his diffidence, and the little value he put on his own good qualities. elizabeth was pleased to find that he hadnot betrayed the interference of his friend; for, though jane had the mostgenerous and forgiving heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which mustprejudice her against him. "i am certainly the most fortunate creaturethat ever existed!" cried jane. "oh! lizzy, why am i thus singled from myfamily, 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, inever could be so happy as you. till i have your disposition, yourgoodness, i never can have your happiness. 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 privileged to whisper it tomrs. phillips, and she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all herneighbours in meryton. the bennets were speedily pronounced to bethe luckiest family in the world, though

only a few weeks before, when lydia hadfirst run away, they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune. chapter 56 one morning, about a week after bingley'sengagement with jane had been formed, as he and the females of the family were sittingtogether in the dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage; and theyperceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn. it was too early in the morning forvisitors, and besides, the equipage did not

answer to that of any of their neighbours. the horses were post; and neither thecarriage, nor the livery of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. as it was certain, however, that somebodywas coming, bingley instantly prevailed on miss bennet to avoid the confinement ofsuch an intrusion, and walk away with him into the shrubbery. they both set off, and the conjectures ofthe remaining three continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door wasthrown open and their visitor entered. it was lady catherine de bourgh.

they were of course all intending to besurprised; but their astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the partof mrs. bennet and kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even inferior towhat elizabeth felt. she entered the room with an air more thanusually ungracious, made no other reply to elizabeth's salutation than a slightinclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word. elizabeth had mentioned her name to hermother on her ladyship's entrance, though no request of introduction had been made. mrs. bennet, all amazement, thoughflattered by having a guest of such high

importance, received her with the utmostpoliteness. after sitting for a moment in silence, shesaid very stiffly to elizabeth, "i hope you are well, miss bennet.that lady, i suppose, is your mother." elizabeth replied very concisely that shewas. "and that i suppose is one of yoursisters." "yes, madam," said mrs. bennet, delightedto speak to lady catherine. "she is my youngest girl but one. my youngest of all is lately married, andmy eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man who, i believe,will soon become a part of the family."

"you have a very small park here," returnedlady catherine after a short silence. "it is nothing in comparison of rosings, mylady, i dare say; but i assure you it is much larger than sir william lucas's." "this must be a most inconvenient sittingroom 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 yourladyship whether you left mr. and mrs. collins well.""yes, very well. i saw them the night before last."

elizabeth now expected that she wouldproduce a letter for her from charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for hercalling. but no letter appeared, and she wascompletely puzzled. mrs. bennet, with great civility, beggedher ladyship to take some refreshment; but lady catherine very resolutely, and notvery politely, declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to elizabeth, "miss bennet, there seemed to be aprettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn.i should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company."

"go, my dear," cried her mother, "and showher ladyship about the different walks. i think she will be pleased with thehermitage." elizabeth obeyed, and running into her ownroom for her parasol, attended her noble guest downstairs. as they passed through the hall, ladycatherine opened the doors into the dining- parlour and drawing-room, and pronouncingthem, after a short survey, to be decent looking rooms, walked on. her carriage remained at the door, andelizabeth saw that her waiting-woman was in it.

they proceeded in silence along the gravelwalk that led to the copse; elizabeth was determined to make no effort forconversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and disagreeable. "how could i ever think her like hernephew?" said she, as she looked in her face.as soon as they entered the copse, lady catherine began in the following manner:-- "you can be at no loss, miss bennet, tounderstand the reason of my journey hither. your own heart, your own conscience, musttell you why i come." elizabeth looked with unaffectedastonishment.

"indeed, you are mistaken, madam.i have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here." "miss bennet," replied her ladyship, in anangry 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 character has ever been celebrated forits sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, i shall certainlynot depart from it. a report of a most alarming nature reachedme two days ago. i was told that not only your sister was onthe point of being most advantageously

married, but that you, that miss elizabethbennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my ownnephew, mr. darcy. though i know it must be a scandalousfalsehood, though i would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of itpossible, i instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that i might make mysentiments known to you." "if you believed it impossible to be true,"said elizabeth, colouring with astonishment and disdain, "i wonder you took the troubleof coming so far. what could your ladyship propose by it?" "at once to insist upon having such areport universally contradicted."

"your coming to longbourn, to see me and myfamily," 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 ofit? has it not been industriously circulated byyourselves? do you not know that such a report isspread abroad?" "i never heard that it was.""and can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?" "i do not pretend to possess equalfrankness with your ladyship. you may ask questions which i shall notchoose to answer."

"this is not to be borne. miss bennet, i insist on being satisfied.has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?""your ladyship has declared it to be impossible." "it ought to be so; it must be so, while heretains the use of his reason. but your arts and allurements may, in amoment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all hisfamily. you may have drawn him in." "if i have, i shall be the last person toconfess it."

"miss bennet, do you know who i am?i have not been accustomed to such language as this. i am almost the nearest relation he has inthe world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns." "but you are not entitled to know mine; norwill such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit.""let me be rightly understood. this match, to which you have thepresumption to aspire, can never take place.no, never. mr. darcy is engaged 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 offerto me." lady catherine hesitated for a moment, andthen replied: "the engagement between them is of apeculiar kind. from their infancy, they have been intendedfor each other. it was the favourite wish of his mother, aswell as of hers. while in their cradles, we planned theunion: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would beaccomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior

birth, of no importance in the world, andwholly unallied to the family! do you pay no regard to the wishes of hisfriends? to his tacit engagement with miss debourgh? are you lost to every feeling of proprietyand delicacy? have you not heard me say that from hisearliest 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 mymarrying your nephew, i shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his motherand aunt wished him to marry miss de

bourgh. you both did as much as you could inplanning the marriage. its completion depended on others. if mr. darcy is neither by honour norinclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice?and if i am that choice, why may not i accept him?" "because honour, decorum, prudence, nay,interest, forbid it. yes, miss bennet, interest; for do notexpect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against theinclinations of all.

you will be censured, slighted, anddespised, by everyone connected with him. your alliance will be a disgrace; your namewill never even be mentioned by any of us." "these are heavy misfortunes," repliedelizabeth. "but the wife of mr. darcy must have suchextraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, thatshe could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine." "obstinate, headstrong girl!i am ashamed of you! is this your gratitude for my attentions toyou 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 determined resolution ofcarrying my purpose; nor will i be dissuaded from it. i have not been used to submit to anyperson's whims. i have not been in the habit of brookingdisappointment." "that will make your ladyship's situationat present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me.""i will not be interrupted. hear me in silence. my daughter and my nephew are formed foreach other.

they are descended, on the maternal side,from the same noble line; and, on the father's, from respectable, honourable, andancient--though untitled--families. their fortune on both sides is splendid. they are destined for each other by thevoice of every member of their respective 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, youwould not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up."

"in marrying your nephew, i should notconsider myself as quitting that sphere. he is a gentleman; i am a gentleman'sdaughter; so far we are equal." "true. you are a gentleman's daughter.but who was your mother? who are your uncles and aunts?do not imagine me ignorant of their condition." "whatever my connections may be," saidelizabeth, "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 merepurpose of obliging lady catherine, have answered this question, she could not butsay, after a moment's deliberation: "i am not." lady catherine seemed pleased."and will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?""i will make no promise of the kind." "miss bennet i am shocked and astonished. i expected to find a more reasonable youngwoman. but do not deceive yourself into a beliefthat i will ever recede. i shall not go away till you have given methe assurance i require."

"and i certainly never shall give it.i am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. your ladyship wants mr. darcy to marry yourdaughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage atall more probable? supposing him to be attached to me, wouldmy refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? allow me to say, lady catherine, that thearguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been asfrivolous as the application was ill- judged.

you have widely mistaken my character, ifyou think i can be worked on by such persuasions as these. how far your nephew might approve of yourinterference in his affairs, i cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concernyourself in mine. i must beg, therefore, to be importuned nofarther 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 youryoungest sister's infamous elopement. i know it all; that the young man'smarrying her was a patched-up business, at

the expence of your father and uncles.and is such a girl to be my nephew's sister? is her husband, is the son of his latefather's steward, to be his brother? heaven and earth!--of what are youthinking? are the shades of pemberley to be thuspolluted?" "you can now have nothing further to say,"she resentfully answered. "you have insulted me in every possiblemethod. i must beg to return to the house."and she rose as she spoke. lady catherine rose also, and they turnedback.

her ladyship was highly incensed."you have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! unfeeling, selfish girl!do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes ofeverybody?" "lady catherine, i have nothing further tosay. you know my sentiments.""you are then resolved to have him?" "i have said no such thing. i am only resolved to act in that manner,which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, orto any person so wholly unconnected with

me." "it is well.you refuse, then, to oblige me. you refuse to obey the claims of duty,honour, and gratitude. you are determined to ruin him in theopinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world." "neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,"replied elizabeth, "have 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 hisfamily, 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 toomuch 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, dependupon it, i will carry my point." in this manner lady catherine talked on,till they were at the door of the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added, "itake 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 withoutattempting to persuade her ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly intoit herself. she heard the carriage drive away as sheproceeded up stairs. her mother impatiently met her at the doorof the dressing-room, to ask why lady catherine would not come in again and restherself. "she did not choose it," said her daughter,"she would go." "she is a very fine-looking woman! and hercalling here was prodigiously civil! for

she only came, i suppose, to tell us thecollinses 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 particular to say to you, lizzy?" elizabeth was forced to give into a littlefalsehood here; for to acknowledge the substance of their conversation wasimpossible. chapter 57 the discomposure of spirits which thisextraordinary visit threw elizabeth into, could not be easily overcome; nor couldshe, for many hours, learn to think of it

less than incessantly. lady catherine, it appeared, had actuallytaken the trouble of this journey from rosings, for the sole purpose of breakingoff her supposed engagement with mr. darcy. it was a rational scheme, to be sure! butfrom what the report of their engagement could originate, elizabeth was at a loss toimagine; till she recollected that his being the intimate friend of bingley, 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 thatthe marriage of her sister must bring them

more frequently together. and her neighbours at lucas lodge,therefore (for through their communication with the collinses, the report, sheconcluded, had reached lady catherine), had only set that down as almost certain and immediate, which she had looked forward toas possible at some future time. in revolving lady catherine's expressions,however, she could not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequenceof her persisting in this interference. from what she had said of her resolution toprevent their marriage, it occurred to elizabeth that she must meditate anapplication to her nephew; and how he might

take a similar representation of the evils attached to a connection with her, shedared not pronounce. she knew not the exact degree of hisaffection for his aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural tosuppose that he thought much higher of her ladyship than she could do; and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseriesof a marriage with one, whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, hisaunt would address him on his weakest side. with his notions of dignity, he wouldprobably 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 whathe should do, which had often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so neara relation might settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy asdignity unblemished could make him. in that case he would return no more. lady catherine might see him in her waythrough town; and his engagement to bingley of coming again to netherfield must giveway. "if, therefore, an excuse for not keepinghis promise should come to his friend within a few days," she added, "i shallknow how to understand 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 obtained my affections and hand, i shall soon cease to regret himat all." the surprise of the rest of the family, onhearing who their visitor had been, was very great; but they obligingly satisfiedit, with the same kind of supposition which had appeased mrs. bennet's curiosity; and elizabeth was spared from much teasing onthe subject. the next morning, as she was goingdownstairs, she was met by her father, who came out of his library with a letter inhis hand.

"lizzy," said he, "i was going to look foryou; come into my room." she followed him thither; and her curiosityto know what he had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its beingin some manner connected with the letter he held. it suddenly struck her that it might befrom lady catherine; and she anticipated with dismay all the consequentexplanations. she followed her father to the fire place,and they both sat down. he then said,"i have received a letter this morning that has astonished me exceedingly.

as it principally concerns yourself, youought to know its contents. i did not know before, that i had twodaughters on the brink of matrimony. let me congratulate you on a very importantconquest." the colour now rushed into elizabeth'scheeks in the instantaneous conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, insteadof the aunt; and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained himself at all, or offended thathis letter was not rather addressed to herself; when her father continued:"you look conscious. young ladies have great penetration in suchmatters as these; but i think i may defy

even your sagacity, to discover the name ofyour admirer. this letter is from mr. collins." "from mr. collins! and what can he have tosay?" "something very much to the purpose ofcourse. he begins with congratulations on theapproaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of which, it seems, he has been told bysome of the good-natured, gossiping lucases. i shall not sport with your impatience, byreading what he says on that point. what relates to yourself, is as follows:'having thus offered you the sincere

congratulations of mrs. collins and myselfon this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another; of which wehave been advertised by the same authority. your daughter elizabeth, it is presumed,will not long bear the name of bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, andthe chosen partner of her fate may be reasonably looked up to as one of the mostillustrious personages in this land.' "can you possibly guess, lizzy, who ismeant by this?" 'this young gentleman is blessed, in apeculiar way, with every thing the heart of mortal can most desire,--splendid property,noble kindred, and extensive patronage. yet in spite of all these temptations, letme warn my cousin elizabeth, and yourself,

of what evils you may incur by aprecipitate closure with this gentleman's proposals, which, of course, you will beinclined to take immediate advantage of.' "have you any idea, lizzy, who thisgentleman is? but now it comes out: "'my motive for cautioning you is asfollows. 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 onany man within the circle of our

acquaintance, whose name would have giventhe lie more effectually to what they related? mr. darcy, who never looks at any woman butto see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life!it is admirable!" elizabeth tried to join in her father'spleasantry, 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 thismarriage 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 mycousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. i thought it my duty to give the speediestintelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be aware of whatthey are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properlysanctioned.' mr. collins moreover adds, 'i am trulyrejoiced that my cousin lydia's sad

business has been so well hushed up, and amonly concerned that their living together before the marriage took place should be sogenerally known. i must not, however, neglect the duties ofmy station, or refrain from declaring my amazement at hearing that you received theyoung couple into your house as soon as they were married. it was an encouragement of vice; and had ibeen the rector of longbourn, i should very strenuously have opposed it. you ought certainly to forgive them, as achristian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentionedin your hearing.'

that is his notion of christianforgiveness! the rest of his letter is only about hisdear charlotte's situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. but, lizzy, you look as if you did notenjoy 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 forour neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?""oh!" cried elizabeth, "i am excessively diverted.

but it is so strange!""yes--that is what makes it amusing. had they fixed on any other man it wouldhave been nothing; but his perfect indifference, and your pointed dislike,make it so delightfully absurd! much as i abominate writing, i would notgive up mr. collins's correspondence for any consideration. nay, when i read a letter of his, i cannothelp giving him the preference even over wickham, much as i value the impudence andhypocrisy of my son-in-law. and pray, lizzy, what said lady catherineabout this report? did she call to refuse her consent?"

to this question his daughter replied onlywith a laugh; and as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she was notdistressed by his repeating it. elizabeth had never been more at a loss tomake her feelings appear what they were not.it was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried. her father had most cruelly mortified her,by what he said of mr. darcy's indifference, and she could do nothing butwonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead of his seeing too little, she might have fancied toomuch.

chapter 58 instead of receiving any such letter ofexcuse from his friend, as elizabeth half expected mr. bingley to do, he was able tobring darcy with him to longbourn before many days had passed after lady catherine'svisit. the gentlemen arrived early; and, beforemrs. bennet had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughtersat in momentary dread, bingley, who wanted to be alone with jane, proposed their allwalking out. it was agreed to. mrs. bennet was not in the habit ofwalking; 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, while elizabeth, kitty,and darcy were to entertain each other. very little was said by either; kitty wastoo much afraid of him to talk; elizabeth was secretly forming a desperateresolution; and perhaps he might be doing the same. they walked towards the lucases, becausekitty wished to call upon maria; and as elizabeth saw no occasion for making it ageneral concern, when kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone.

now was the moment for her resolution to beexecuted, 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 bewounding yours. i can no longer help thanking you for yourunexampled kindness to my poor sister. ever since i have known it, i have beenmost anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully i feel it. were it known to the rest of my family, ishould not have merely my own gratitude to express."

"i am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replieddarcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, "that you have ever been informed of whatmay, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. i did not think mrs. gardiner was so littleto be trusted." "you must not blame my aunt. lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed tome that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, i could not resttill i knew the particulars. let me thank you again and again, in thename of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take somuch trouble, and bear so many

mortifications, for the sake of discoveringthem." "if you will thank me," he replied, "let itbe for yourself alone. that the wish of giving happiness to youmight add force to the other inducements which led me on, i shall not attempt todeny. but your family owe me nothing. much as i respect them, i believe i thoughtonly of you." elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say aword. after a short pause, her companion added,"you are too generous to trifle with me. if your feelings are still what they werelast april, tell me so at once.

my affections and wishes are unchanged, butone word from you will silence me on this subject for ever." elizabeth, feeling all the more than commonawkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; andimmediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since theperiod to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure hispresent assurances. the happiness which this reply produced,was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on theoccasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man

violently in love can be supposed to do. had elizabeth been able to encounter hiseye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight, diffusedover his face, became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, which, in proving ofwhat importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.they walked on, without knowing in what direction. there was too much to be thought, and felt,and said, for attention to any other objects.

she soon learnt that they were indebted fortheir present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him inher return through london, and there relate her journey to longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation withelizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in herladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance; in the belief that such a relation must assist herendeavours 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 hadscarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. i knew enough of your disposition to becertain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you wouldhave acknowledged it to lady catherine, frankly and openly." elizabeth coloured and laughed as shereplied, "yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. after abusing you so abominably to yourface, i could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.""what did you say of me, that i did not

deserve? for, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had meritedthe severest reproof. it was unpardonable. i cannot think of it without abhorrence.""we will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," saidelizabeth. "the conduct of neither, if strictlyexamined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, i hope, improved incivility." "i cannot be so easily reconciled tomyself.

the recollection of what i then said, of myconduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been manymonths, inexpressibly painful to me. your reproof, so well applied, i shallnever forget: 'had you behaved 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 wasreasonable enough to allow their justice." "i was certainly very far from expectingthem to make so strong an impression. i had not the smallest idea of their beingever felt in such a way." "i can easily believe it.

you thought me then devoid of every properfeeling, i am sure you did. the turn of your countenance i shall neverforget, as you said that i could not have addressed you in any possible way thatwould induce you to accept me." "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 youthink better of me? did you, on reading it, give any credit toits contents?" she explained what its effect on her hadbeen, and how gradually all her former

prejudices had been removed."i 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 thepower of reading again. i can remember some expressions which mightjustly make you hate me." "the letter shall certainly be burnt, ifyou believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though wehave both reason to think my opinions 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 waswritten 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 the person who wrote, andthe 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 remembrance gives you pleasure.""i cannot give you credit for any

philosophy of the kind. your retrospections must be so totally voidof reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, whatis much better, of innocence. but with me, it is not so. painful recollections will intrude whichcannot, which ought not, to be repelled. i have been a selfish being all my life, inpractice, though not in principle. as a child i was taught what was right, buti was not taught to correct my temper. i was given good principles, but left tofollow them in pride and conceit. unfortunately an only son (for many yearsan only child), i was spoilt by my parents,

who, though good themselves (my father,particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; tocare for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of theworld; 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, dearest, loveliest elizabeth!what do i not owe you! you taught me a lesson, hard indeed atfirst, but most advantageous. by you, i was properly humbled.i came to you without a doubt of my

reception. you showed me how insufficient were all mypretensions 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 myaddresses." "my manners must have been in fault, butnot intentionally, i assure you. i never meant to deceive you, but myspirits might often lead me wrong. how you must have hated me after thatevening?"

"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 youthought 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 thanmine in being noticed by you. my conscience told me that i deserved noextraordinary politeness, and i confess that i did not expect to receive more thanmy due." "my object then," replied darcy, "was toshow you, by every civility in my power, that i was not so mean as to resent thepast; and i hoped to obtain your

forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had beenattended to. how soon any other wishes introducedthemselves i can hardly tell, but i believe in about half an hour after i had seenyou." he then told her of georgiana's delight inher acquaintance, and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturallyleading to the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of following her from derbyshire in quest ofher sister had been formed before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity andthoughtfulness there had arisen from no

other struggles than what such a purposemust comprehend. she expressed her gratitude again, but itwas too painful a subject to each, to be dwelt on farther. after walking several miles in a leisurelymanner, and too busy to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining theirwatches, that it was time to be at home. "what could become of mr. bingley andjane!" was a wonder which introduced the discussion of their affairs. darcy was delighted with their engagement;his friend had given him the earliest information of it."i must ask whether you were surprised?"

said elizabeth. "not 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 thecase. "on the evening before my going to london,"said he, "i made a confession to him, which i believe i ought to have made long ago. i told him of all that had occurred to makemy former interference in his affairs

absurd and impertinent.his surprise was great. he had never had the slightest suspicion. i told him, moreover, that i believedmyself mistaken in supposing, as i had done, that your sister was indifferent tohim; and as i could easily perceive that his attachment to her was unabated, i feltno doubt of their happiness together." elizabeth could not help smiling at hiseasy 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 informationlast spring?" "from the former.

i had narrowly observed her during the twovisits which i had lately made here; and i was convinced of her affection.""and your assurance of it, i suppose, carried immediate conviction to him." "it did.bingley is most unaffectedly modest. his diffidence had prevented his dependingon his own judgment in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine made every thingeasy. i was obliged to confess one thing, whichfor a time, and not unjustly, offended him. i could not allow myself to conceal thatyour sister had been in town three months last winter, that i had known it, andpurposely kept it from him.

he was angry. but his anger, i am persuaded, lasted nolonger 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 wasinvaluable; but she checked herself. she remembered that he had yet to learn tobe 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 tillthey reached the house.

in the hall they parted. chapter 59 "my dear lizzy, where can you have beenwalking to?" was a question which elizabeth received from jane as soon as she enteredtheir room, and from all the others when they sat down to table. she had only to say in reply, that they hadwandered about, till she was beyond her own knowledge. she coloured as she spoke; but neitherthat, nor anything else, awakened a suspicion of the truth.the evening passed quietly, unmarked by

anything extraordinary. the acknowledged lovers talked and laughed,the unacknowledged were silent. darcy was not of a disposition in whichhappiness overflows in mirth; and elizabeth, agitated and confused, ratherknew that she was happy than felt herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment, there were other evilsbefore her. she anticipated what would be felt in thefamily 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 andconsequence might do away.

at night she opened her heart to jane. though suspicion was very far from missbennet's general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here."you are joking, lizzy. this cannot be!--engaged 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 amsure 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 rememberit myself." miss bennet still looked all amazement.elizabeth 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 docongratulate you--but are you certain? forgive the question--are you quite certainthat you can be happy with him?" "there can be no doubt of that. it is settled between us already, that weare to be the happiest couple in the world. but are you pleased, jane?shall you like to have such a brother?" "very, very much. nothing could give either bingley or myselfmore delight. but we considered it, we talked of it asimpossible.

and do you really love him quite wellenough? oh, lizzy! do anything rather than marrywithout affection. are you quite sure that you feel what youought 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 serious. i want to talk very seriously.let me know every thing that i am to know,

without delay.will you tell me how long you have loved "it has been coming on so gradually, that ihardly know when it began. but i believe i must date it from my firstseeing his beautiful grounds at pemberley." another entreaty that she would be serious,however, produced the desired effect; and she soon satisfied jane by her solemnassurances of attachment. when convinced on that article, miss bennethad nothing further to wish. "now i am quite happy," said she, "for youwill be as happy as myself. i always had a value for him. were it for nothing but his love of you, imust always have esteemed him; but now, as

bingley's friend and your husband, therecan be only bingley and yourself more dear to me. but lizzy, you have been very sly, veryreserved with me. how little did you tell me of what passedat pemberley and lambton! i owe all that i know of it to another, notto you." elizabeth told her the motives of hersecrecy. she had been unwilling to mention bingley;and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of hisfriend. but now she would no longer conceal fromher his share in lydia's marriage.

all was acknowledged, and half the nightspent in conversation. "good gracious!" cried mrs. bennet, as shestood at a window the next morning, "if that disagreeable mr. darcy is not cominghere again with our dear bingley! what can he mean by being so tiresome as tobe always 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 soconvenient a proposal; yet was really vexed

that her mother should be always giving himsuch an epithet. as soon as they entered, bingley looked ather so expressively, and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his goodinformation; and he soon afterwards said aloud, "mrs. bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts in which lizzy may lose her wayagain 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 hasnever 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 seethe view from the mount, and elizabeth silently consented.as she went up stairs to get ready, mrs. bennet followed her, saying: "i am quite sorry, lizzy, that you shouldbe forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. but i hope you will not mind it: it is allfor jane's sake, you know; and there is no

occasion for talking to him, except justnow 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 determine how her motherwould take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur would be enoughto overcome her abhorrence of the man. but whether she were violently set againstthe match, or violently delighted with it, it was certain that her manner would beequally ill adapted to do credit to her

sense; and she could no more bear that mr. darcy should hear the first raptures of herjoy, than the first vehemence of her disapprobation. in the evening, soon after mr. bennetwithdrew to the library, she saw mr. darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitationon seeing it was extreme. she did not fear her father's opposition,but he was going to be made unhappy; and that it should be through her means--thatshe, his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be filling him with fears and regrets indisposing of her--was a wretched

reflection, and she sat in misery till mr.darcy appeared again, when, looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. in a few minutes he approached the tablewhere she was sitting with kitty; and, while pretending to admire her work said ina whisper, "go to your father, he wants you in the library." she was gone directly.her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious."lizzy," said he, "what are you doing? are you out of your senses, to be acceptingthis man? have not you always hated him?"

how earnestly did she then wish that herformer opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! it would have spared her from explanationsand professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were nownecessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, of her attachment to mr. darcy. "or, in other words, you are determined tohave him. he is rich, to be sure, and you may havemore fine clothes and fine carriages than jane. but will they make you happy?""have you any other objection," said

elizabeth, "than your belief of myindifference?" "none at all. we all know him to be a proud, unpleasantsort of man; but this would be nothing 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 improper pride.he is perfectly amiable. you do not know what he really is; thenpray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms." "lizzy," said her father, "i have given himmy consent.

he is the kind of man, indeed, to whom ishould never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. i now give it to you, if you are resolvedon having him. but let me advise you to think better ofit. i know your disposition, lizzy. i know that you could be neither happy norrespectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him as asuperior. your lively talents would place you in thegreatest danger in an unequal marriage. you could scarcely escape discredit andmisery.

my child, let me not have the grief ofseeing you unable to respect your partner in life.you know not what you are about." elizabeth, still more affected, was earnestand solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that mr. darcy wasreally the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relatingher absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stoodthe test of many months' suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father'sincredulity, 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 anyone less worthy." to complete the favourable impression, shethen told him what mr. darcy had voluntarily done for lydia.he heard her with astonishment. "this is an evening of wonders, indeed! and so, darcy did every thing; made up thematch, 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 andeconomy. had it been your uncle's doing, i must andwould have paid him; but these violent young lovers carry every thing their ownway. i shall offer to pay him to-morrow; he willrant and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter." he then recollected her embarrassment a fewdays before, on his reading mr. collins's letter; and after laughing at her sometime, allowed her at last to go--saying, as she quitted the room, "if any young men come for mary or kitty, send them in, for iam quite at leisure."

elizabeth's mind was now relieved from avery heavy weight; and, after half an hour's quiet reflection in her own room,she was able to join the others with tolerable composure. every thing was too recent for gaiety, butthe evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer anything material to bedreaded, 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 onfirst hearing it, mrs. bennet sat quite

still, and unable to utter a syllable. nor was it under many, many minutes thatshe could comprehend what she heard; though not in general backward to credit what wasfor the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any ofthem. she began at length to recover, to fidgetabout 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 howgreat you will be! what pin-money, what jewels, what carriagesyou will have! jane's is nothing to it--nothing at all. i am so pleased--so happy.such a charming man!--so handsome! so tall!--oh, my dear lizzy! pray apologisefor my having disliked him so much before. i hope he will overlook it. dear, dear lizzy.a house in town! every thing 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 herapprobation need not be doubted: and elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusionwas heard only by herself, soon went away. but before she had been three minutes inher own room, her mother followed her. "my dearest child," she cried, "i can thinkof nothing else! ten thousand a year, and very likely more! 'tis as good as a lord!and a special licence. you must and shall be married by a speciallicence.

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'sbehaviour to the gentleman himself might be; and elizabeth found that, though in thecertain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations' consent, there was still something to bewished for. but the morrow passed off much better thanshe expected; for mrs. bennet luckily stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law thatshe ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any

attention, or mark her deference for hisopinion. elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeingher father taking pains to get acquainted with him; and mr. bennet soon assured herthat he was rising every hour in his esteem. "i admire all my three sons-in-law highly,"said he. "wickham, perhaps, is my favourite; but ithink i shall like your husband quite as well as jane's." chapter 60 elizabeth's spirits soon rising toplayfulness again, she wanted mr. darcy to

account for his having ever fallen in lovewith her. "how could you begin?" 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, orthe look, or the words, which laid the foundation.it is too long ago. i was in the middle before i knew that ihad begun." "my beauty you had early withstood, and asfor my manners--my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, andi never spoke to you without rather wishing

to give you pain than not. now be sincere; did you admire me for myimpertinence?" "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 officiousattention. you were disgusted with the women who werealways 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 wouldhave hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, yourfeelings were always noble and just; and in your heart, you thoroughly despised thepersons who so assiduously courted you. there--i have saved you the trouble ofaccounting for it; and really, all things considered, i begin to think it perfectlyreasonable. to be sure, you knew no actual good of me--but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love." "was there no good in your affectionatebehaviour 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 yourprotection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, itbelongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and i shall begin directly by askingyou 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, especially, when you called, did youlook as if you did not care about me?"

"because you were grave and silent, andgave me no encouragement." "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 areasonable answer to give, and that i should be so reasonable 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 ihad not asked you! my resolution of thanking you for yourkindness to lydia had certainly great

effect. too much, i am afraid; for what becomes ofthe moral, if our comfort springs from a breach of promise? for i ought not to havementioned the subject. this will never do." "you need not distress yourself.the moral will be perfectly fair. lady catherine's unjustifiable endeavoursto separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. i am not indebted for my present happinessto your eager desire of expressing your gratitude.i was not in a humour to wait for any

opening of yours. my aunt's intelligence had given me hope,and i was determined at once to know every thing." "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 longbourn and beembarrassed? or had you intended any more serious consequence?" "my real purpose was to see you, and tojudge, 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 were still partial to bingley, and if she were, tomake the confession to him which i have since made." "shall you ever have courage to announce tolady catherine what is to befall her?" "i am more likely to want more time thancourage, elizabeth. but it ought to be done, and if you willgive 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 oncedid. but i have an aunt, too, who must not belonger neglected." from an unwillingness to confess how muchher intimacy with mr. darcy had been over- rated, elizabeth had never yet answeredmrs. gardiner's long letter; but now, having that to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was almostashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost three days of happiness, andimmediately wrote as follows: "i would have thanked you before, my dearaunt, as i ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail ofparticulars; 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; givea loose rein to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight whichthe subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannotgreatly err. you must write again very soon, and praisehim a great deal more than you did in your last. i thank you, again and again, for not goingto 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 not one with such justice.i am happier even than jane; she only smiles, i laugh. mr. darcy sends you all the love in theworld that he can spare from me. you are all to come to pemberley atchristmas. yours, etc." mr. darcy's letter to lady catherine was ina different style; and still different from either was what mr. bennet sent to mr.collins, in reply to his last.

"dear sir, "i must trouble you once more forcongratulations. 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 thenephew. he has more to give."yours sincerely, etc." miss bingley's congratulations to herbrother, on his approaching marriage, were all that was affectionate and insincere. she wrote even to jane on the occasion, toexpress her delight, and repeat all her

former professions of regard. jane was not deceived, but she wasaffected; and though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a muchkinder answer than she knew was deserved. the joy which miss darcy expressed onreceiving similar information, was as sincere as her brother's in sending it. four sides of paper were insufficient tocontain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by hersister. before any answer could arrive from mr.collins, or any congratulations to elizabeth from his wife, the longbournfamily heard that the collinses were come

themselves to lucas lodge. the reason of this sudden removal was soonevident. lady catherine had been rendered soexceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew's letter, that charlotte, reallyrejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the storm was blown over. at such a moment, the arrival of her friendwas a sincere pleasure to elizabeth, though in the course of their meetings she mustsometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw mr. darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of herhusband.

he bore it, however, with admirablecalmness. he could even listen to sir william lucas,when he complimented him on carrying away the brightest jewel of the country, andexpressed his hopes of their all meeting frequently at st. james's, with very decentcomposure. if he did shrug his shoulders, it was nottill sir william was out of sight. mrs. phillips's vulgarity was another, andperhaps a greater, tax on his forbearance; and though mrs. phillips, as well as hersister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which bingley's good humour encouraged, yet, whenever shedid speak, she must be vulgar.

nor was her respect for him, though it madeher more quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant. elizabeth did all she could to shield himfrom the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and tothose of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from allthis took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope ofthe future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing toeither, to all the comfort and elegance of

their family party at pemberley. chapter 61 happy for all her maternal feelings was theday on which mrs. bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters. with what delighted pride she afterwardsvisited mrs. bingley, and talked of mrs. darcy, may be guessed. i wish i could say, for the sake of herfamily, that the accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of somany of her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, amiable,

well-informed woman for the rest of herlife; though perhaps it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relisheddomestic felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous andinvariably silly. mr. bennet missed his second daughterexceedingly; his affection for her drew him oftener from home than anything else coulddo. he delighted in going to pemberley,especially when he was least expected. mr. bingley and jane remained atnetherfield only a twelvemonth. so near a vicinity to her mother andmeryton relations was not desirable even to his easy temper, or her affectionate heart.

the darling wish of his sisters was thengratified; he bought an estate in a neighbouring county to derbyshire, and janeand elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were within thirtymiles 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 hadgenerally known, her improvement was great. she was not of so ungovernable a temper aslydia; and, removed from the influence of lydia's example, she became, by properattention and management, less irritable, less ignorant, and less insipid.

from the further disadvantage of lydia'ssociety she was of course carefully kept, and though mrs. wickham frequently invitedher to come and stay with her, with the promise of balls and young men, her fatherwould never consent to her going. mary was the only daughter who remained athome; 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 theworld, but she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was nolonger mortified by comparisons between her sisters' beauty and her own, it was suspected by her father that she submittedto the change without much reluctance.

as for wickham and lydia, their characterssuffered no revolution from the marriage of her sisters. he bore with philosophy the conviction thatelizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude and falsehoodhad before been unknown to her; and in spite of every thing, was not wholly without hope that darcy might yet beprevailed on to make his fortune. the congratulatory letter which elizabethreceived from lydia on her marriage, explained to her that, by his wife atleast, 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 as 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 atcourt very much, and i do not think we shall have quite money enough to live uponwithout some help. any place would do, of about three or fourhundred a year; but however, do not speak to mr. darcy about it, if you had rathernot.

"yours, etc." as it happened that elizabeth had muchrather not, she endeavoured in her answer to put an end to every entreaty andexpectation of the kind. such relief, however, as it was in herpower to afford, by the practice of what might be called economy in her own privateexpences, she frequently sent them. it had always been evident to her that suchan income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in their wants,and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to their support; and whenever they changed their quarters, either jane orherself were sure of being applied to for

some little assistance towards dischargingtheir bills. their manner of living, even when therestoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the extreme. they were always moving from place to placein quest of a cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. his affection for her soon sunk intoindifference; 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 atpemberley, 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 bingleysthey both of them frequently staid so long, that even bingley's good humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as totalk of giving them a hint to be gone. miss bingley was very deeply mortified bydarcy's marriage; but as she thought it advisable to retain the right of visitingat pemberley, she dropt all her resentment; was fonder than ever of georgiana, almost as attentive to darcy as heretofore, andpaid off every arrear of civility to

elizabeth. pemberley was now georgiana's home; and theattachment 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 theworld of elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an astonishmentbordering on alarm at her lively, sportive, manner of talking to her brother. he, who had always inspired in herself arespect which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of openpleasantry.

her mind received knowledge which had neverbefore fallen in her way. by elizabeth's instructions, she began tocomprehend that a woman may take liberties with her husband which a brother will notalways allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself. lady catherine was extremely indignant onthe marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of hercharacter in her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially ofelizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end.

but at length, by elizabeth'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 for him, or hercuriosity to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait onthem at pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had received, not merely from the presence of such amistress, 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 lovedthem; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the personswho, by bringing her into derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.

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