invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he

chose, while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same

time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of

the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was

walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of her

wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the

compliment must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was

extreme; and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From

what can it proceed? It cannot be for me, it cannot be for my sake

that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not

work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love

me.{314}”
After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two

gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to the

brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious

water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in

Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found

Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred

her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on

together. After a short silence the lady first spoke. She wished him to

know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the

place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been

very unexpected—“for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that

you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and, indeed, before we

left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in

the country.” He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said that

business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours

before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They

will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some