{{prhprp504.jpg}}

much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find

occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as

may be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what

made you so unwilling to come to the point at last? What

made you so shy of me, when you first called, and after-

wards dined here? Why, especially, when you called did

you look as if you did not care about me?'

'Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no en-

couragement.'

'But I was embarrassed.'

'And so was I.'

'You might have talked to me more when you came to

dinner.'

'A man who had felt less might.'

'How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer

to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it!

But I wonder how long you _would_ have gone on, if you

had been left to yourself. I wonder when you _would_ have

spoken if I had not asked you! My resolution of thanking

you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect.

_Too_ _much_ I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral,

if our comfort springs from a breach of promise, for I

ought not to have mentioned the subject? This will never

do.'

'You need not distress yourself. The moral will be

perfectly fair. Lady Catherine's unjustifiable endeavours to

separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. I

am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager

desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour

to wait for an opening of yours. My aunt's intelligence had

given me hope, and I was determined at once to know every-

thing.'

'Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to

make her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me,

what did you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely

to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? or had you in-

tended any more serious consequences?'

'My real purpose was to see _you,_ and to judge, if I could,

whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My

avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether

 [504]