Pride and Prejudice - Part 2 - Jane Austen

0:00for her from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling, but no letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled. Mrs. Bennett, with great civility begged her leadership to take some refreshment, but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, declined eating anything, and then rising up, said to Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennett, there seemed to be a pretty-ish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your own. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favor me with your company. Go, my dear, cried her mother, and show her leadership about the various walks. I think she will be pleased with the hometage. Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for her parasol, attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall, Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and drawing-room, and pronouncing them after a short survey to be decent-looking rooms, walked on. Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk that led to the cops. Elizabeth was determined

1:03to make no effort for conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and disagreeable. "'How could I ever think of like a nephew,' said she, as she looked in her face. As soon as they entered the cops, Lady Catherine began in the following manner. "'You can be at no loss, Miss Bennett, to understand the reason of my journey, Hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come.' Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment. "'Indeed, you are mistaken, Madame. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here.' "'Miss Bennett,' replied her lady-ship, and an angry tone. You ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But, however, insincere you may choose to be, you turn not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its inserity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only was your sister

2:06on the point of being most adventitously married, but that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennett, would in all likelihood be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place that I might make my sentiment known to you. "'If you believed it impossible to be true,' said Elizabeth, coloring with astonishment and disdain. I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your leadership propose by it? At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted. "'You're coming to Longborn to see me and my family,' said Elizabeth Cooley, "'will be rather a confirmation of it, if indeed such a report is in existence. If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves?

3:10Do you not know that such a report is spread about?' I never heard that it was. "'And can you likewise declare that there is no foundation for it?' "'I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your leadership. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.' This is not to be born. Miss Bennett, I insist on being satisfied. Has he? Has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?' Your leadership has declared it to be impossible. It ought to be so. It must be so while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allormons may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in. If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.' Miss Bennett, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to language such as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and I am entitled to know all his

4:11dearest concerns. But you are not entitled to know mine, nor will such behavior as this ever induce me to be explicit. Let me be rightly understood. This match to which you have the presumption to aspire can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is 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 offer to me. Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment and then replied, the engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of his mother as well as of hers, while in their cradles we planned the union. And now, with the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth of no importance in the world and wholly unalied to the family. Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement with Mr. Burg. Are you lost to

5:14every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin? Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Mr. Burg. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is he not to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may I not accept him? Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennett, interest. For do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends if you willfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace. Your name will never even be mentioned by any of us. These are heavy misfortunes, reply

6:17to Elizabeth. But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness, necessarily attached to her situation that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine. Obstinate, headstrong girl, I am ashamed of you. Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You ought to understand, Miss Bennett, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose, nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment. That will make your leadership situation at present more pitiful, but it will have no effect on me. I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended on the maternal side from the same noble line, and on the fathers from respectable, honorable and ancient, though untitled families. Their fortune on both sides

7:20is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses. And what is to divide them? The upstart, potentials of a young woman without family connections or fortune. Is this to be endured? But it must not shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up. In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman. I am a gentleman's daughter. So far we are equal. True. You are a gentleman's daughter. But who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition. Whatever my connections may be, said Elizabeth, if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you. Tell me once and for all, are you engaged to him? Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady Catherine have answered this question, she could not but say after a moment's deliberation.

8:22I 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 Bennett. I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever receive. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require. And I certainly never shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your leadership wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter. But would my giving you the wish for promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference and his affairs I cannot

9:26tell. But you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg therefore to be important no farther on the subject. Not so hasty if you please. I have by no means done. To all the objections I have already urged. I have still another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister's infamous alopement. I know it all. That the young man's marrying her was a patched-up business at the expense of your father and uncles. And is such a girl to be my nephew's sister? Is her husband? Is the son of his late father's steward to be his brother? Heaven and earth! Of what are you thinking? Are the shades of pemberly to be thus polluted? You can now have nothing further to say. She resentfully answered. You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg to return to the house. And she rose, as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned back. Her ladyship was highly incensed. You have no

10:29regard 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 of everybody? Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments. You are then resolved to have him. I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner which will in my own opinion constitute my happiness, without reference to you or to 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 the opinion 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 his family, or the indignation of the world. If the former were excited by his marrying me it would not give me one moment's concern,

11:32and the world in general would have too much sense to join in the scorn. And this is your real opinion. This is your final resolve. Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine Miss Bennett that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you reasonable, but to pen to point 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, I take no leave of you Miss Bennett. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased. Elizabeth made no answer, and without attempting to persuade her leadership to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother impatiently met her at the door of the dressing-room, to ask why Lady Catherine would not come in again and rest herself. She did not choose it, said her

12:32daughter. She would go. She is a very fine-looking woman, and her calling here was prodigiously civil. For she only came, I suppose, to tell us the collences were well. She is on her road somewhere, I dare say, and so passing through Meriton thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had nothing particular to say to you, Dizzy. Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood here, for to acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible. Chapter 57 The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit through Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome, nor could she, for many hours, learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine had appeared had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings, for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure. But from what the report of their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine. Till she recollected that his, being the intimate friend of Bingley,

13:34and her being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time, when the expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her sister must bring them more frequently together, and her neighbors at Lucas Lodge, therefore, for through their communication with the collences, the report she concluded had reached Lady Catherine, had only set that down as almost certain and immediate, which she had looked forward to as possible at some future time. In revolving Lady Catherine's expressions, however, she could not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting in the center-fierce. From what she had said of her resolution to prevent their marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an application to her nephew, and how he might take a similar representation of the evils attached to a connection with her, she dared not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose that he thought much higher of her leadership than she could

14:35do, and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with one, whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning. If he had been wavering before us to what he should do, which it often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near relation might settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady Catherine might see him in her way through town, and his engagement to Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way. If therefore an excuse for not keeping his promise come to his friend within a few days, she added, I shall know 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 him at all. The surprise of the

15:39rest of the family on hearing who their visitor had been was very great, but they ablygently satisfied it, with the same kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennett's curiosity, and Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject. The next morning, as she was going downstairs, she was met by her father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand. "'Lizzy,' said he, "'I was going to look for you, come into my room.' She followed him with her, and her curiosity to know what he had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the consequent explanations. She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He then said, I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its contents. I did not know before that I had two daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.' The color now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks in the instantaneous conviction of

16:42its being a letter from the nephew instead of the aunt, and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to herself when her father continued. "'You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters as these, but I think I may defy even your sagacity to discover the name of your admirer.' This letter is from Mr. Collins. For Mr. Collins. And what can he have to say? Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of which it seems he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping lucasers. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows. Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another, of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennett after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of

17:46her fate may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in this land. Can you possibly guess Lizzie who is meant by this? This young gentleman is blessed in a peculiar way with everything the heart of mortal can most desire, splendid property, noble kindred and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth and yourself of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure with this gentleman's proposals, which, of course, you'll be inclined to take immediate advantage of. Have you any idea Lizzie who this gentleman is? But now it comes out. My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Burgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye. Mr. Darcy, you see as the man. Now Lizzie, I think I have surprised you. Could he, or the Lucas's, have pitched on any man within the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lime more effectively to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, and you probably never looked

18:47at you in his life. It is admirable! Elizabeth tried to join in her father's ples entry, but could only force one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so little agreeable to her. Are you not diverted? Oh, yes! Pray, read on! After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately with her usual condescension expressed what she felt on the occasion. When it became apparent that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give a consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be well aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned. Mr. Collins, moreover, adds, I am truly the joist that my cousin, Lydia's sad business, has been so well-hushed up, and am only concerned that they are living together before the marriage took place, should be so generally known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement, or tearing that you received the young couple into your

19:49house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice, had I been the rector of Longborn, I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing. That is his notion of Christian forgiveness. The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte situation and his expectation of a young olive branch. But, Lise, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be miss-ish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what do we live but to make sport for our neighbours and laugh at them in our turn? Oh, cry, 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 would have been nothing, but his perfect indifference and your pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd. Much so I abominate writing I would not give up Mr. Collins' condense for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his I cannot help giving him

20:49the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lise, what said Lady Catherine about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent? To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh, and as it had been asked without the least suspicion she was not distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her by what he said of Mr. Darcy's indifference, and she could do nothing but wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps instead of his seeing too little she might have fancied too much. CHAPTER XVIII Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with him to Longborn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine's visit. The gentleman arrived early, and before Mrs. Bennett

21:50had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed they're all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennett was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either. Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk. Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution, and perhaps he might be doing the same. They walked towards the lukeces because Kitty wished to call upon Mariah, and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed, and while her courage was high, she immediately said, Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, can not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help

22:52thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express. I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, replied Darcy in a tone of surprise and emotion, that you have ever been informed of what may in a mistaken light have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardner was so little to be trusted. You must not blame my aunt, Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed me that you had been concerned in the matter, and of course I could not rest until I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many modifications for the sake of discovering them. If you will thank me, he replied, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me

23:57nothing. Much as I respect them I believe I thought only of you. Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word, after a short pause her companion added. You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence beyond this subject forever. Elizabeth feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak. And immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before, and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. When Elizabeth being able to encounter his eye she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him. But though she could not look, she

25:00could listen, and he told her of feelings which in proving of what important 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 for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him and her return through London, and there relate her journey to long-born, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth, dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in her leadership's apprehension, particularly denoted her perverseness and assurance. In the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavors to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. As unlikely for her leadership its effect had been exactly contrary wise. It taught me to hope, said he, as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely irrevocably decided

26:00against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly. Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, 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 merited the severest reproof, it was unpardonable, I cannot think of it without a morons. We will not quarrel for the greater shame of blame and acts to that evening, said Elizabeth. The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable, but since then we have both I hope improved in civility. I cannot be so easily reconciled myself, the recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof so well applied I shall never forget, had you behaved in a more gentleman like

27:04manner, those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive how they have tortured me, though it was some time I confessed before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice. I was suddenly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression, I had not the smallest idea of their ever being felt in such a way. I can easily believe it, you thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did, the turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me. 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 shamed of it." Darcy mentioned his letter. Did it, said he? Did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading, it give any credit to its contents? She explained what its effect on her aband 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

28:07have destroyed the letter. There was one part especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might dustly make you hate me. The letter shall certainly be burnt if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard, but though we have 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 was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit. The letter perhaps began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they then were 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

29:08of the kind. Your retrospection must be so totally void of approach that the contentment arising from them is not a philosophy, but what is much better of innocence. But with me it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life. In practice, though not in principle. As a child I was tortured as right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, an only son, for many years an only child, I was spoiled by my parents, who though good themselves, my father particularly all that was benevolent and amiable, allowed and courage almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think mainly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think mainly 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

30:13taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, 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 my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased. Had you then persuaded yourself that I should? Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believe you to be wishing, expecting my addresses. My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after that evening. Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but my anger soon began to take a proper direction. I was almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming. No indeed. I felt nothing but surprise. Your surprise could not be greater than mine and being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confessed that I did not expect

31:16to receive more than my due. My object, then, replied Darcy, was to show you by every civility in my power that I was not so mean as to resent the past, and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you. He then told her of Georgiana's delight and her acquaintance, and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption, which naturally leading to the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of following her from Darbyshire and quest of her sister had been formed before he quit at the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must comprehend. She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to each to be dwelt on further. After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know anything about it, they found at last on examining their watches that it was time to be at home. What could become of Mr. Bingley and Jane, was a wonder

32:19which 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 the case. "'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 make my 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 believe myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent to him, and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.' Elizabeth cannot help smiling at his easy manner of directing his friend. "'Did you speak from your own observation,' said she, when you told him that my sister

33:21loved him, or merely from my information last spring. From the former, I had narrowly observed her during the two visits 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 dividends had preventing his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine made everything easy. I was obliged to confess one thing, which, for a time and not unjustly offended him. I could not allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was angry. Which his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained in any doubt of your sister's sentiments. He has utterly forgiven me now. Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful friend, so easily guided that his worth was invaluable, but she checked herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating

34:23the happiness of Bingley, which, of course, was to be inferior only to his own, he continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they parted. End of Chapter 58 Chapter 59 My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to? was a question which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she entered their room, and from all the others when they sat down to table. She had only to say and reply that they had wandered about until she was beyond her own knowledge. She colored as she spoke, but neither that 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 which happiness overflows in mirth, and Elizabeth agitated and confused, rather knew that she was happy, than felt herself to be so. For besides the immediate embarrassment, there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt in the family when her situation

35:26became known. She was aware that no one liked him but Jane, and even feared that with the others it was a dislike which not all his fortune and consequence might do away. At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far from Miss Bennett'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 soul dependent was on you, and I am sure nobody else will believe me if you do not. Yet indeed I am in earnest, I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we are engaged. Jane looked at her doubtingly. Oh, Lizzy! It cannot be! I know how much you dislike him! You know nothing of the matter! That is all to be forgot! Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now, but in such cases as these good memories unpartnable, this is the last time

36:30I shall ever remember it myself. Miss Bennett still looked all amazement, Elizabeth again and more seriously assured her of its truth. Good heaven! Can it really be so? Yet now I must believe you, cried Jane. My dear dear Lizzy, I would—I do congratulate you, but are you certain? Forgive the question. Are you quite certain that you can be happy with him? There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already that we are to be the happiest 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 myself more delight. But we considered it. We talked of it as impossible. And do you really love him quite well enough? Oh Lizzy, do anything rather than marry without affection, are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do? Oh yes, you will only think I feel more than I ought to do when I tell you all. What do you mean? Why I must confess that

37:33I 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 everything that I am to know without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him? It has been coming on so gradually that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pembley. Another in treaty that she would be serious, however, produced the desired effect, and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennett had nothing further to wish. Now I am quite happy, said she. For you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you I must always have esteemed him. But now as Bingley's friend and your husband there can only be Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell

38:35me of what passed at Pembley and Lampton? I owe all that I know of it to another, not to you. Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to mention Bingley, and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of his friend. But now she would no longer conceal from her his share and Lydia's marriage, all was acknowledged, and half the night spent in conversation. Good gracious! cried Mrs. Bennett as she stood at a window the next morning. If that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with our dear Bingley. What can he mean by being so tired, semester, always becoming here? I had no notion, but he would go with shooting, or something, or rather, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must walk out with him again that he may not be in Bingley's way. Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal, yet was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an apithet. As soon as they entered Bingley looked at her so expressively and shook hands with such warmth as left no doubt of his good

39:38information, and he soon afterwards said aloud, Mrs. Bennett, have you no more lanes here about in which Lizzy may lose her way again today? I advise Mr. Darcy and Lizzy and Kitty, said Mrs. Bennett, to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view. It may do very well for the others," replied Mr. Bingley, but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won't it, Kitty? Kitty owned that she and rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennett followed her, saying, "'I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man-alty yourself, but I hope you will not mind it. It is all for Jane's sake, you know, and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just now and then, so do not put yourself to win convenience.' During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennett's consent should be asked in the course of the evening. Elizabeth reserved to herself the application for her mothers. She could not determine how her mother would take it, sometimes doubting whether

40:41all his wealth and grandeur would be enough to overcome her aborance of the man. But whether she were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it was certain that her manner would be equally ill-adapted to do credit to her sense, and she could know more bear that Mr. Darcy should hear the first raptures of her joy than the first vehement of her disapprobation. In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennett withdrew to the library, she saw Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it was extreme. She did not fear her father's opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy, and that it should be through her means, that she, his favorite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be filling him with fears and regrets and disposing 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 table where she was sitting with Kitty, and while pretending to admire her work, said in a whisper, go to your father, he wants you in the library. She was gone directly. Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious.

41:44"'Lizzy,' said he. What are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be accepting this ban? Have you not always hated him?' How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate? It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give, but they were now necessary, and she assured him with some confusion of her attachment to Mr. Darcy. Or in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy? "'Have you any other objection,' said Elizabeth, then your belief of my indifference. None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort 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. Then Ray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.'

42:46"'Lizzy,' said her father. I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, whom I should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about.' Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply. And at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months' suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father's

43:48incredulity, and reconcile him to the match. "'Well, my dear,' said he when she ceased speaking. "'I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you.' "'I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to any one less worthy.' To complete the favourable impression, she then 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 everything, made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow's debts, and got him his commission. So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble and economy. Had it been your uncle's doing, I must and would have paid him. But these violent young lovers carry everything their own way. I shall offer to pay him tomorrow, he will rant and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter. He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before, on his reading Mr. Collins' letter, and after laughing at her some time, 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 I am quite

44:51at leisure. Elizabeth's mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight, and after half an hour's quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for Gaity, but the evening passed tranquilly away. There was no longer anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would come in time. When her mother went up to her dressing room at night, she followed her and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary. For on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennett sat quite still, and unable to water a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes that she could comprehend what she heard, though not in general backward to credit what was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself. Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think, dear me! Mr. Darcy, who would have thought it, and is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy, how rich and how great you will be! What

45:56pin money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! James is nothing to it, nothing at all! I am so pleased, so happy, such a charming man, so handsome, so tall! Though my dear Lizzy, pray, apologise, my having disliked him so much before, I hope you will overlook it. Dear Lizzy, a house in town, everything that is charming! Three daughters married, ten thousand a year! Oh Lord, what will become of me, I shall go distracted! This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted, and Elizabeth rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her. My dearest child, she cried, I can think of nothing else, ten thousand a year, and very likely more! Tis is good as a Lord! Kind of special license, you must and shall be married by a special license! But my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it tomorrow! This was a sad omen of what her mother's behavior

47:00to the gentleman himself might be, and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain possession of his warmest affection and secure of her relations consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow passed off much better than she expected, for Mrs. Bennett luckily stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it wasn't her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference for his opinion. Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get acquainted with him, and Mr. Bennett soon assured her that he was rising every hour in his esteem. "'I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,' said he, "'wiccum, perhaps, is my favorite, but I think I shall like your husband quite as well as James.'" End of Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Elizabeth's spirit soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. "'How could you begin,' said she, "'I can comprehend you're going on charmingly when once you had made a beginning, but what could set you off in the first place?'

48:04"'I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.' My beauty you had early withstood, had asked for my manners, my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere. Did you admire me for my impertinence?' For the liveness 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 a fissious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking and looking and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused and interested you because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really amiable, you would have hated me for it. But in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just. And in your heart you thoroughly despised the

49:04persons who so assiduously courted you. There I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it. And really all things considered I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure you knew no actual good of me, but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love. Was there no good and no affectionate behaviour to Jane while she was ill at another field? Tearist Jane, who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible. And in return it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarreling with you as often as may be, and I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me when you first called, and afterwards dine tear? Why, especially when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me? Because you were grave and silent and gave me no encouragement. 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

50:07less might. How unlucky that you should have a reasonable 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 I had not asked you. My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. Too much I am afraid, for what becomes of the moral of our comfort springs from a breach of promise. For I ought not to mention the subject, this will never do. You need not distress yourself. The moral be perfectly fair. Lady Catherine's unjustifiable endeavors to separate us with a means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not an e-humour to wait for any opening of yours. My aunts and tellagants had given me hope, and I was determined at once to know everything. Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down

51:08to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longborn and be embarrassed, or had you intended any more serious consequence? My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I about to myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made. Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to befall her? I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth, but it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly. And if I had not let it write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be long and neglected. From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardner's long letter. But now, having that to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had

52:12already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote his follows. I would have thanked you before my dare aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long-kind satisfactory detail of particulars, but to say the truth I was too crossed right. You supposed more than really existed. But now, suppose as much as you choose, give a loose reign to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and pray some a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you again and again for not going to the lakes. How could I be so silliest 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 the world that he can spare from me. You are all

53:13to come to Pemberley at Christmas. Yours, etc. Mr. Darcy's letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still different from either was what Mr. Bennett sent to Mr. Collins in reply to his last. Dear Sir, I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Can so, Lady Catherine as well as you can. But if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give. Yours sincerely, etc. Mr. Bingley's congratulations to her brother on his approaching marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. She rode even to Jane on the occasion to express her delight and repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected, and though feeling no reliance on her could not help writing her a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved. The joy which Mr. Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was as sincere as her brothers in sending it. Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her sister.

54:17Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, the long-born family heard that the Collins'es were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this sudden removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew's letter that Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the storm was blown over. At such a moment the arrival of her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their meeting she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her husband. He bore, however, with admirable calmness. He could even listen to Sir William Lucas when he complemented him on carrying away the brightest jewel of the country and expressed his hopes of their all-meeting frequently its enjemes, with very decent composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight. Mrs. Phillips' vulgarity was another and perhaps a greater tax on his forbearance, and though Mrs. Phillips, as well as her sister, stood in too

55:18much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley's good humor encouraged, yet whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification. And though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future, and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley. End of Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennett got rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be guest. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family,

56:22that the accomplishment of her earnest desire and the establishment of so many of her children produced so happy in effect as to make her a sensible, amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life, though perhaps it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic felicity in so unusual a form that she was still occasionally nervous and invariably silly. Mr. Bennett missed his second daughter exceedingly. His affection for her drew him often or from home than anything else could do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected. Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelve-month. So near of vicinity to her mother and married in relations was not desirable even to his easy temper or her affectionate heart. The darling wish of his sisters was then gratified. He bought an estate in a neighboring county to Darbyshire, and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were within 30 miles of each other. Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with her two

57:26elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a temper as Lydia, and removed from the influence of Lydia's example, she became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less ignorant, and less incipit. From the further disadvantage of Lydia's society she was, of course, carefully kept, and, though Mrs. Wickham frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the promise of balls and young men, her father would never consent to her going. Mary was the only daughter who remained at home, and she was necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments, by Mrs. Bennett's being quite unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but she could still moralize over every morning visit, and as she was no longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters beauty and her own, it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without much reluctance. As for Wickham and Lydia, their character suffered no

58:29revolution from the marriage of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that Elizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ungratitude and falsehood had before been unknown to her, and in spite of everything, was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage explained to her that, by his wife at least, if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The letter was to this effect. My dear Lizzy, I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half 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 at court very much, and I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live upon without some help. Any place would do of about three or four hundred a year, but whoever did not speak to Mr. Darcy about it, if you would rather not. Yours, etc. As it happened that Elizabeth had much

59:30rather not, she endeavored in her answer to put an end to every and treaty and expectation of the kind. Such relief, however, as it was in her power to afford, by the practice of what might be called economy and her own private expenses, she frequently sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an 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 or herself were sure of being applied to for some little assistance towards discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest of a cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection for her soon sunk into indifference. Her is 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

1:00:32never receive him at Pemberley, 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 Bingley, they both of them frequently stayed so long, that even Bingley's good humor was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to talk of giving them a hint to be gone. Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy's marriage, but as she thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she dropped all her resentment, was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as here to for, and paid off every a rear of civility to Elizabeth. Pemberley was now Georgiana's home, and the attachment of the sisters was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each other even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth, though at first she often listened with an astonishment bordering on a alarm at her lively, sportive manner of talking to her brother.

1:01:34He, who had always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in her way. By Elizabeth's instructions, she began to comprehend that a woman may take liberties with her husband, which her brother will not always allow, in a sister more than ten years younger than himself. Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew, and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, 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 her curiosity to see how his wife conducted herself, and she condescended to wait on them at

1:02:34Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the visits of her uncle and aunt from the city. With the gardeners, they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them, and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Darbyshire, had been the means of uniting them. End of Chapter 61 End of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin