deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and
softened its impropriety of expression.
When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned
downstairs, and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener, who met
them at the hall-door.
As they walked across the hall towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again; her uncle
and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the
owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.
They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was
impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of both were overspread
with the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from
surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if
not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility.
She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach, received his compliments with
an embarrassment impossible to be overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the
picture they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two that they now saw
Mr. Darcy, the gardener's expression of surprise, on beholding his master, must immediately
have told it. They stood a little aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and
confused, scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she returned to his
civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the alteration of his manner since they last parted,
every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the
impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they
continued were some of the most uncomfortable in her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease;
when he spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his inquiries as to the
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time of her having left Longbourn, and of her having stayed in Derbyshire, so often, and in so
hurried a way, as plainly spoke the distraction of his thoughts.
At length every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a few moments without saying a
word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took leave.
The others then joined her, and expressed admiration of his figure; but Elizabeth heard not a
word, and wholly engrossed by her own feelings, followed them in silence. She was
overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-
judged thing in the world! How strange it must appear to him! In what a disgraceful light might
it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way
again! Oh! why did she come? Or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had
they been only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his
discrimination; for it was plain that he was that moment arrived—that moment alighted from his
horse or his carriage. She blushed again and again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his
behaviour, so strikingly altered—what could it mean? That he should even speak to her was
amazing!—but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her family! Never in her life had she
seen his manners so little dignified, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this
unexpected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when he put
his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, or how to account for it.
They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and every step was bringing
forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer reach of the woods to which they were approaching;
but it was some time before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered
mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such
objects as they pointed out, she distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on
that one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then was. She longed
to know what at the moment was passing in his mind—in what manner he thought of her, and
whether, in defiance of everything, she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only
because he felt himself at ease; yet there had been THAT in his voice which was not like ease.
Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her she could not tell, but he certainly
had not seen her with composure.
At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind aroused her, and she
felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.
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They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a while, ascended some of the higher
grounds; when, in spots where the opening of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many
charming views of the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods overspreading
many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish of going round the
whole park, but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile they were told that it
was ten miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed circuit; which
brought them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods, to the edge of the
water, and one of its narrowest parts. They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the
general air of the scene; it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and the valley,
here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the
rough coppice-wood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they
had crossed the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not
a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of returning to the carriage as quickly as
possible. Her niece was, therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house
on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their progress was slow, for Mr.
Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much
engaged in watching the occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man
about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were
again surprised, and Elizabeth's astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the
sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk here being here less
sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they met. Elizabeth, however
astonished, was at least more prepared for an interview than before, and resolved to appear and
to speak with calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed, she felt
that he would probably strike into some other path. The idea lasted while a turning in the walk
concealed him from their view; the turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance,