“I am the last woman in the world who could make any objection to it,” replied Elizabeth, “for I have been a most capricious judge of characters, and have been accused by all my family of judging too hastily. But I hope I am not so desponding as to think that I shall not be more fortunate than yourself. My father, however, is very fond of you, and I do not doubt but that his attachment to you will be a sufficient plea for my encouraging the attachment of my children to you.”
“My dear Lizzy,” said her father, “what is the meaning of all this?”
“This is his daughter’s, and this is his son’s,” said she, as she walked to the window; “and this is his daughter’s, and this is his son’s,” said she, as she walked to the window.
“And what is to be done?” said Darcy.
“I do not know,” said she, “but I am very glad to find that you do not think my cousin’s conduct has been much to blame.”
“I am sensible of the honour of your approbation,” said Darcy, “and will not avail myself of the permission which you have given me, to refuse the honour which you have been so kind as to offer me. I am sensible of the honour of your approbation, and will not avail myself of the permission which you have given me, to refuse the honour which you have been so kind as to offer me.”
“You mistake me, my dear,” said Elizabeth, “I am not in a way to know what I am doing. But I have been mistaken in wishing you to go to Pemberley. I should have been very sorry to leave you.”
“I am not to be in a way to know what I am doing. But I have been mistaken in wishing you to go to Pemberley. I should have been very sorry to leave you.”
“Oh, my dear,” said her father, “what have you been doing? It is very wrong.”
“I do not know what I am about,” said she, “but I have been very wrong.”
“I do not know what I am about,” said she, “but I have been very wrong.”
“My dear Lizzy,” said her father, “what is the meaning of all this?”
“This is his daughter’s, and this is his son’s,” said she, as she walked to the window.
“And what is to be done?” said Darcy.
“I do not know,” said she, “but I am very glad to find that you do not think my cousin’s conduct has been much to blame.”
“I am sensible of the honour of your approbation,” said Darcy, “and will not avail myself of the permission which you have given me, to refuse the honour which you have been so kind as to offer me.”
“You mistake me, my dear,” said Elizabeth, “I am not in a way to know what I am doing. But I have been mistaken in wishing you to go to Pemberley. I should have been very sorry to leave you.”
“I am not to be in a way to know what I am doing. But I have been mistaken in wishing you to go to Pemberley. I should have been very sorry to leave you.”
“Oh, my dear,” said her father, “what have you been doing? It is very wrong.”
“I do not know what I am about,” said she, “but I have been very wrong.”
“I do not know what I am about,” said she, “but I have been very wrong.”