Austen Said:

“No, I should have turned in a moment.”

“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?”

“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”

“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”

“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do.”

“Is this,”

“meant for me?”

“and pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”

To interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,

“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her.”

“Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way.”

she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth.

“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”

“Oh! yes,”

“Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”

“What is it you mean?”

“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”

“Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?”

“And what arts did he use to separate them?”

“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,”

“Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”

“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy. But,”

“as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case.”

so just a picture of Mr. Darcy,

It was not to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the world two men over whom Mr. Darcy could have such boundless influence.

That he had been concerned in the measures taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane

the principal design and arrangement of them.

If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, he was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.

were Colonel Fitzwilliam's words; and those strong objections probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in business in London.

“To Jane herself,”

“there could be no possibility of objection; all loveliness and goodness as she is! — her understanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father, who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will probably never reach.”

any objections there had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose pride,

would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance in his friend's connections, than from their want of sense;

he had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.

not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea.

They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had been used to characterise her style, and which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded.

Mr. Darcy's shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict,

his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next

in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane again, , and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits, by all that affection could do.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.

a wish of hearing that she were better.

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

her inferiority — of its being a degradation — of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination,

the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer;

it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand.

he had no doubt of a favourable answer.

He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security.

“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot — I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”

“I might as well inquire,”