address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would

probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak

and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.
If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often

seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might

settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity

unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady

Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to

Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.
“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his

friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand

it. I shall then give{444} over every expectation, every wish of his

constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might

have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him

at all.”
The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had

been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same

kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and

Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.
The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her

father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.
“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.”
She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell

her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner

connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might

be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the

consequent explanations.
She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He

then said,—
“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me

exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its