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and I think him very disagreeable.”

      “I have no right to give my opinion,” said Wickham, “I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. Here you are in your own family.”

      “Upon my word,[38] he is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride.”

      “The world is blinded by his money, or frightened by his high and imposing manners,” Wickham shook his head. “We are not friends, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding. His father, Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that I ever met, and the truest friend I ever had. But his son disappointed the hopes and disgraced the memory of his father.”

      Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart.

      “I am a disappointed man. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for. The church ought to have been my profession – I was brought up for the church.”

      “Indeed!”

      “Yes – old Mr. Darcy wanted to give me the best living[39] in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. But the living was given to somebody else.”

      “Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded?”

      “Yes, unfortunately his son decided to change Mr. Darcy’s last will. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”

      “This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

      “Some time or other he will be – but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”

      Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever.

      “But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”

      “A thorough, determined dislike of me – a dislike which I cannot understand, maybe his jealousy. Had Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have treated me better. But his father’s attachment to me irritated him, I believe.”

      “I had not thought so very ill of him.”

      Elizabeth exclaimed, “To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father! Who had been his companion from childhood!”

      “We were born in the same parish; the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me.[40]”

      “How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable!”

      “It is wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend.”

      “Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

      “Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality. Family pride, and filial pride – for he is very proud of what his father was.”

      “What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

      He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother – very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen. Since her father’s death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her.”

      “I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley!” said Elizabeth. “How can Mr. Bingley, who is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”

      “Not at all.”

      “He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is.”

      “Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable. By the way, you know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy?”

      “No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”

      “Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune,[41] and they say that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”

      This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley.

      “Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter.”

      “I have not seen her for many years,” replied Wickham; “but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent.”

      Elizabeth smiled. Mr. Wickham’s manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home.

      Chapter 17

      Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she did not know how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard.

      The two young ladies were thinking about the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. They were delighted to see their dear friend again. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others.

      The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing with Mr. Wickham.

      Elizabeth was in a very good mood. And though she did not often speak to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation.

      “I do not think, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency. And I take this opportunity of inviting you, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances.”

      Elizabeth accepted Mr. Collins’s proposal with as good a grace as she could.

      Chapter 18

      Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham, a doubt of his coming had never occurred to her. But his friend Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, said that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business the day before.

      But Elizabeth was not made for ill-humour; and though her hopes were destroyed for the evening, she could not be sad long. The first two dances, however, brought her a sense of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins was awkward and solemn. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.

      She danced next with an officer, and heard that he was universally liked.[42] When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas.

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