falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be

wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning

either. Detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly

not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not

told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know

what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here

related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel

Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and

still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been

unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If

your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you

cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and

that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour

to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the

course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.


“Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
{253}

CHAPTER XXXVI.


ELIZABETH, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to

contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of

its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly

she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited.

Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did

she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power;

and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation to

give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong

prejudice{254} against everything he might say, she began his account of

what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which

hardly left her power of comprehension; and from impatience of knowing

what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the