Chapter 18D

‘What think you of books?’ said he, smiling.‘Books—Oh! no.—I am sure we never read the same, or not withthe same feelings.’‘I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can atleast be no want of subject.—We may compare our differentopinions.’‘No—I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else.’‘The present always occupies you in such scenes—does it?’ saidhe, with a look of doubt.‘Yes, always,’ she replied, without knowing what she said, forher thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soonafterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, ‘I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are verycautious, I suppose, as to its being created.’‘I am,’ said he, with a firm voice.‘And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?’‘I hope not.’‘It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.’‘May I ask to what these questions tend?’‘Merely to the illustration of your character,’ said she,endeavouring to shake off her gravity. ‘I am trying to make it out.’‘And what is your success?’She shook her head. ‘I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.’‘I can readily believe,’ answered he gravely, ‘that report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet,that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment,as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect nocredit on either.’‘But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never haveanother opportunity.’‘I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,’ he coldly replied. She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to anequal degree, for in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directedall his anger against another.They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came towardsher, and with an expression of civil disdain thus accosted her,‘So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with GeorgeWickham!—Your sister has been talking to me about him, andasking me a thousand questions; and I find that the young manforgot to tell you, among his other communications, that he was theson of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy’s steward. Let merecommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicitconfidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy’s using him ill,it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has been always remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr.Darcy, in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars,but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame,that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned, and that though my brother thought he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find thathe had taken himself out of the way. His coming into the country atall, is a most insolent thing indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really considering his descent, one could not expect much better.’