connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none

of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me there were stronger

impulses even than pride.”
“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”
“Yes; it has often led him to be liberal and generous; to give his money

freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the

poor. Family pride, and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his

father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to

degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the

Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride,

which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and

careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up

as the most attentive and best of brothers.”
“What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy?”
He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to

speak ill of a Darcy; but she is too much like her brother,—very, very

proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond

of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amuse{105}ment. But she is

nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen,

and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death her

home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her

education.”
After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not

help reverting once more to the first, and saying,—
“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley,

who seems good-humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable,

be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you

know Mr. Bingley?”
“Not at all.”
“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr.

Darcy is.”
“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not