“Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his

countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner.”
“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those

two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the

appearance of it.”
“I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you

used to do.”
“And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike

to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an

opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually

abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing

at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.”
“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat

the matter as you do now.”
“Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I was very

uncomfortable—I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I

felt, no Jane to comfort me, and say that I had not been so very weak,

and{281} vain, and nonsensical, as I knew I had! Oh, how I wanted you!”
“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions

in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they do appear wholly

undeserved.”
“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most

natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is

one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I

ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintance in general understand

Wickham’s character.”
Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, “Surely there can be no

occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”
“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorized me to

make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular

relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to

myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his