claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in

the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”
“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “has any

possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either

would be violated by my{441} marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the

resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former

were excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s

concern—and the world in general would have too much sense to join in

the scorn.”
“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I

shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your

ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you

reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point.”
In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till they were at the door of

the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,—
“I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your

mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”
Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her

Ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She

heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother

impatiently met her at the door of her dressing-room, to ask why Lady

Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.
“She did not choose it,” said her daughter; “she would go.”
“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously

civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well.

She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, passing through

Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had

nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little falsehood here; for to

acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible.{442}