Austen Said:

“It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”

whether all her sisters were at Longbourn.

their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the country.

great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire friends.

the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that morning.

he perceived no other alteration than her being rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summer.

“Yes,”

“but that was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”

“Good God! what is the matter?”

“I will not detain you a minute; but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”

“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”

“I am grieved indeed,”

“grieved — shocked. But is it certain — absolutely certain?”

“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?"

“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”

it a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope,

his compliments for her relations,

how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did,

he did,

A few weeks,

as handsome as she had been last year; as good natured, and as unaffected, though not quite so chatty.

something of his concern

at having been prevented by business.

“Yes, she will remain there till Christmas.”

“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough, these three weeks.”

engaged elsewhere.

He should be particularly happy at any time, etc. etc.; and if she would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on them.

Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow;

“Where is your sister?”

the good wishes and affection of a sister.

to avoid the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the shrubbery.

“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,”

“that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”

“If you will thank me,”

“let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you .”

The happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had

never felt before;

as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do.

they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in her ladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance; in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give.

“It taught me to hope,”

“as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”

“What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”

“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget:

Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me — though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."

“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget,

as you said that

“Did it,”

“did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”

“I knew,”

“that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”