like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other—about eight years ago."
"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture; "it
is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not."
Mrs. Reynolds respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her
master.
"Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?"
Elizabeth coloured, and said: "A little."
"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?"
"Yes, very handsome."
"I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery upstairs you will see a finer, larger
picture of him than this. This room was my late master's favourite room, and these miniatures are
just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them."
This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham's being among them.
Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight
years old.
"And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?" said Mrs. Gardiner.
"Oh! yes—the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so accomplished!—She plays and
sings all day long. In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her—a present from
my master; she comes here to-morrow with him."
Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness
by his questions and remarks; Mrs. Reynolds, either by pride or attachment, had evidently great
pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.
"Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?"
"Not so much as I could wish, sir; but I dare say he may spend half his time here; and Miss
Darcy is always down for the summer months."
174
"Except," thought Elizabeth, "when she goes to Ramsgate."
"If your master would marry, you might see more of him."
"Yes, sir; but I do not know when THAT will be. I do not know who is good enough for him."
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, "It is very much to his credit, I
am sure, that you should think so."
"I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him," replied the other.
Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as the
housekeeper added, "I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known
him ever since he was four years old."
This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a
good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened; she
longed to hear more, and was grateful to her uncle for saying:
"There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in having such a
master."
"Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I
have always observed, that they who are good-natured when children, are good-natured when
they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the
world."
Elizabeth almost stared at her. "Can this be Mr. Darcy?" thought she.
"His father was an excellent man," said Mrs. Gardiner.
"Yes, ma'am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him—just as affable to the poor."
Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest
her on no other point. She related the subjects of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and
the price of the furniture, in vain, Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to
which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; and
she dwelt with energy on his many merits as they proceeded together up the great staircase.
175
"He is the best landlord, and the best master," said she, "that ever lived; not like the wild young
men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants
but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything
of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men."
"In what an amiable light does this place him!" thought Elizabeth.
"This fine account of him," whispered her aunt as they walked, "is not quite consistent with his
behaviour to our poor friend."
"Perhaps we might be deceived."
"That is not very likely; our authority was too good."
On reaching the spacious lobby above they were shown into a very pretty sitting-room, lately
fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below; and were informed that
it was but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room when last
at Pemberley.
"He is certainly a good brother," said Elizabeth, as she walked towards one of the windows.
Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy's delight, when she should enter the room. "And this is
always the way with him," she added. "Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be
done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her."
The picture-gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were all that remained to be
shown. In the former were many good paintings; but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from
such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of
Miss Darcy's, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and also more
intelligible.
In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a
stranger. Elizabeth walked in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. At
last it arrested her—and she beheld a striking resemblance to Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over
the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen when he looked at her. She stood several
minutes before the picture, in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted
the gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father's lifetime.
176
There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards the
original than she had ever felt at the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed
on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise
of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people's
happiness were in his guardianship!—how much of pleasure or pain was it in his power to
bestow!—how much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought
forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas
on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a