suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this."
After a few minutes' reflection, however, she continued, "I DO remember his boasting one day,
at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His
disposition must be dreadful."
"I will not trust myself on the subject," replied Wickham; "I can hardly be just to him."
Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, "To treat in such a manner the
godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!" She could have added, "A young man, too, like
YOU, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable"—but she contented herself
with, "and one, too, who had probably been his companion from childhood, connected together,
as I think you said, in the closest manner!"
"We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was
passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same
parental care. MY father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips, appears to
do so much credit to—but he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy and devoted
all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a
most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the
greatest obligations to my father's active superintendence, and when, immediately before my
father's death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that
he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to HIM, as of his affection to myself."
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"How strange!" cried Elizabeth. "How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr.
Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too
proud to be dishonest—for dishonesty I must call it."
"It IS wonderful," replied Wickham, "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride
had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other
feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger
impulses even than pride."
"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?"
"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display
hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and FILIAL pride—for he is
very proud of what his father was—have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to
degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a
powerful motive. He has also BROTHERLY pride, which, with SOME brotherly affection,
makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried
up as the most attentive and best of brothers."
"What sort of 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, and, I understand,
highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives
with her, and superintends her education."
After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not help reverting once
more to the first, and saying:
"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good
humour itself, and 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."
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"Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be
a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in
consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never
deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and
perhaps agreeable—allowing something for fortune and figure."
The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round the other table and Mr.
Collins took his station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The usual inquiries as to
his success was made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point; but when
Mrs. Phillips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity
that it was not of the least importance, that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged
that she would not make herself uneasy.
"I know very well, madam," said he, "that when persons sit down to a card-table, they must take
their chances of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five
shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to
Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters."
Mr. Wickham's attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for a few moments, he
asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relation was very intimately acquainted with the
family of de Bourgh.
"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she replied, "has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how
Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long."
"You know of course that Lady Catherine de 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, and it is believed that she and her
cousin will unite the two estates."
This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must
be all her attentions, vain and useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he
were already self-destined for another.
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"Mr. Collins," said she, "speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some
particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in
spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman."
"I believe her to be both in a great degree," replied Wickham; "I have not seen her for many
years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and