Austen Said:

“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.

“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 what 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 on 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.

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 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 lawn 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