You are the last man in the world whom I could ever marry!
Do you think that any consideration would tempt me? Your arrogance, your conceit,
and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others!
My opinion ofyou was decided when I heard Mr Wickham's story ofyour dealings with him.
Well at least in that I may defend myself.
Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority ofyour connections?
To congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose conditions in life is so decidedly below my own?
You are mistaken, Mr Darcy.
The mode of your declaration merely spared me the concern I might have felt in refusing you,
had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.
Who's there, Fitzwilliam?
- Darcy! We'd quite despaired of you! Is that my nephew?
Where have you been? Let him come in and explain himself!
No. You will forgive me.
- You'll forgive me. - Darcy, you are unwell?
I'm very well, thank you. But I have a pressing matter of business. You'll forgive me.
Make my apologies to Lady Catherine, Fitzwilliam.
To Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter,
that it contain any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers
which were, this evening, so disgusting to you.
But I must be allowed to defend myself against the charges laid at my door.
In particular those relating to Mr Wickham,
which if true, would indeed be grievous, but are wholly without foundation,
and which I can only refute by laying before you his connection with my family.
Mr Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had the management of our family estates.
My own father was fond of him and held him in high esteem.
We played together as boys.
After his father's early death, my father supported him at school and afterwards, at Cambridge,
and hoped he would make the church his profession.
But by then George Wickham's habits were as dissolute as his manners were engaging.
My own excellent father died five years ago.
And his attachment to Mr Wickham was to the last so steady,
that he desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it was vacant.
Mr Wickham declined any interest in the church as a career,
but requested, and was granted, the sum of 3,000 pounds instead of the living.
He expressed an intention of studying the law. I wished, rather than believed him to be sincere.
Thank you.
I'm most exceedingly obliged.
All connection between us seemed now dissolved.
Georgiana.
Being now free from all restraint,
his life was one of idleness and dissipation.
How he lived, I know not.
But last summer our paths crossed again under the most painful circumstances,
which I myself would wish to forget.
My sister, Georgiana, who is more than ten years my junior,
was left to the guardianship of Colonel Fitzwilliam and myself.
About a year ago, she was taken from school to Ramsgate,
and placed in the care of a Mrs Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived.
And thither also went Mr Wickham, undoubtedly by design.
She was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement.
She was then but fifteen years old.
A day or two before the intended elopement, I joined them unexpectedly.
Unable to support the idea of grieving a brother whom she looked up to almost as a father,
she acknowledged the whole plan to me at once.
You may imagine what I felt and how I acted.
Mr Wickham left the place immediately.
Come.
Mr Wickham relinquished his object, which was of course, my sister's fortune of 30,000 pounds.
A secondary motive must have been to revenge himself on me.
Had he succeeded, his revenge would have been complete indeed.
This, madam, is a faithful narrative of all my dealings with Mr Wickham.
You do look pale, Lizzy. Why don't you have some breakfast?
- I'm sure it will do you good. - Oh, no. I am well, Charlotte.
I think I've stayed indoors too long. Fresh air and exercise is all I need.
The woods around Rosings are so beautiful at this time of year.
Miss Bennet!
Mr Darcy.
I've been walking the grove some time in the hope of meeting you.
Will you do me the honour of reading this letter?
This, madam, is a faithful narrative of all my dealings with Mr Wickham,
and for its truth I can appeal to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam,
who knows every particular of these transactions.
I know not under what form of falsehood Mr Wickham imposed himself on you,
but I hope you'll acquit me of cruelty towards him.
"I found that as the time drew near that I'd better not meet Mr Darcy. Scenes might arise, unpleasant to more than myself."
The other charge levelled at me, is that regardless of the sentiments of either party,
I detached Mr Bingley from your sister.
I have no wish to deny this nor can I blame myself for any of my actions in this matter.
I had not long been in Hertfordshire before I saw that Bingley admired your sister,
but it was not until the dance at Netherfield that I suspected a serious attachment.
His partiality was clear, but though she received his attentions with pleasure,
I did not detect any symptoms ofpeculiar regard.
The serenity of her countenance convinced me that her heart was not likely to be easily touched.
Insufferable presumption!
I did not wish to believe her to be indifferent because I wished it. I believed it on impartial conviction.
Very impartial!
You have missed the two gentlemen! They came to take their leave!
Mr Darcy came here?
Oh yes, but he went away again directly. But the Colonel waited for you for over half an hour! And now they are both gone off to the country!
I dare say we shall be able to bear the deprivation.
As to my objections to the marriage, the situation ofyour family, though objectionable,
was nothing in comparison with the total want of propriety so frequently betrayed by your mother,
your younger sisters, and even occasionally, your father.
That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough.
Now there will be a great marriage!
And you know, that will throw the girls into the path of other rich men!
My friend left Netherfield for London on the following day.
There I engaged in the office of pointing out to him the certain evils of his choice of your sister as a prospective bride.
It was not difficult to convince him of your sister's indifference to him.
I cannot blame myself for having done thus much.
For destroying all her hope of happiness? Yes, I'm sure you do not blame yourself. Hateful man!
There is but one part of my conduct in the affair on which I do not reflect with satisfaction.
Really? Astonish me.
That is... that I concealed from him your sister's being in town.
Perhaps this concealment was beneath me.
It was done, however, and it was done for the best.
On this subject I have nothing more to say and no other apology to offer.
Insufferable!
- Lizzy! - Charlotte, my dear, we will be late!
Lizzy!
I have endeavoured to count the times Lady Catherine de Bourgh has invited us since your arrival here.
I believe it may be as many as ten invitations!
Eleven, counting this one! Eleven!
There! You have indeed been favoured with peculiar condescension.
- Do you not agree, Miss Elizabeth? - Oh... yes!
Indeed! How could anybody think otherwise?
And this is to be your last invitation, on this visit, at least.
Yes, it is truly a very cruel deprivation indeed. I hardly know how I shall bear the loss of her Lady Catherine's company!
You feel it keenly!
Yes, of course you do. My poor young cousin.
They were such fine young men, and so particularly attached to me!
They were excessively sorry to go but so they always are!
The dear Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably,
but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely.
His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.
You are very dull this evening, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
You have scarce spoke two words together. Are you so out of spirits?
- No indeed, madam. - But of course you are... to be going away yourself.
Who indeed would not be sad to be deprived of Rosings, and indeed of the gracious...
You will write to your mother and tell her you wish to stay a little longer.
- She could certainly spare you for another fortnight. - But my father cannot.
He wrote las week to hurry my return.
Your ladyship is very kind but I believe we must leave as planned on Friday.
Oh, your father may spare you if your mother can.
Daughters are never of much consequence to a father.
And if you will stay another month complete,
it will be in my power to take you as far as London myself in the Barouche box!
For I cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by themselves.
It is highly improper!
I am excessively attentive to all those things.
My uncle is to send a servant for us when we change to the post.
Oh. Your uncle! He keeps a manservant, does he?
I'm very glad you have somebody who thinks of these things. Where will you change horses?
- At Brom... - Bromley, of course.
Mention my name at the Bell and they will attend you.
Your ladyship is very kind.
Indeed, we are all infinitely indebted to your ladyship's kindly bestowed solicitude...
Yes, yes. But this is all extremely vexing!
I'm quite put out.
What are you doing? I thought the trunks went outside before breakfast.
Lady Catherine was so severe last evening about the only right way to place gowns, that I couldn't sleep
and I'm determined to start afresh!
Maria, this is your trunk. These are your gowns.
You may arrange them in any way you wish. Lady Catherine will never know!
Well, my dear sister, you will have much to tell your father...
Bring that one round here.
Well, cousin...
...you have seen for yourself now the happiness of our situation.
Our intimacy at Rosings is a blessing of which few could boast!
- Indeed they could not. - Indeed.
And now you have witnessed our felicity. Perhaps you may think your friend has made a very fortunate alliance.
Perhaps more so than...
- But on this point it will be as well to be silent. - You are very good.
Only let me assure you that I can, from my heart, most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage.
My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking.
We seem to have been designed for each other!
Oh, Lizzy! It seems but a day or two since we first came!
- And yet how many things have happened! - A great many, indeed.
We have dined nine times at Rosings!
Oh, how much I shall have to tell!
How much I shall have to conceal.
You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.
Lizzy!
To see your faces when you looked up at the window!
- You didn't expect we'd come to meet you, did you? - No, we did not.
There! Is not this nice? Cold ham and pork and salads and every good thing!
And we mean to treat you. Oh, but you must lend us the money. We spent ours. Look!
- I don't think it's very pretty, but I thought I might as well buy it. - It's vile, isn't it, Lizzy?
- Very ugly. What possessed you to buy it, Lydia? - There were two or three much uglier in the shop!
I shall pull it to pieces as soon as we get home and see if I can make it up any better.
Well, it doesn't signify what anyone wears, for the regiment will leave Meryton or be at Brighton for the whole summer!
- Our hearts are broken! - We want papa to take us all to Brighton for the summer but he certainly will not.
- I'm glad to hear it. - Shouldn't you like to go to Brighton, Lizzy?
- Indeed, I should not. - She would.
She would love it above all things when she hears the news about a certain person we all know!
- Shall we tell her, Kitty? - Yes, and watch to see if she blushes!
- You may gonow, Will. We'll call if you're needed again. - Very good, miss.
Wickham is not to marry Mary King after all!
She's been taken away by her uncle to Liverpool and Wickham is safe!
Perhaps we should say Mary King is safe.
But was there a very strong attraction between them, do you think?
Not on his side I'm sure! I shouldn't think he cared three straws about her.
Who could about such a nasty freckled little thing?
Don't look at me like that, Lizzy. I know you think just as ill of her as I do! Pass the celery, Kitty.
Aren't you glad we came to meet you? We should be such a merry party on the journey home.
- Kitty, you're squashing my bandbox! - I can't help it! You should have put it on the roof!
- It's the way you sit. If you don't lollop about there'll be room for us all. - I don't lollop, you do! Ow!
Mr Darcy proposed! I can scarce believe it!
Not that anyone admiring you should be astonishing.
But he always seemed so severe, so cold, apparently.
And yet he was in love with you all the time! Poor Mr Darcy.
I confess I cannot feel so much compassion for him.
He has other feelings which will soon drive away any regard he felt for me.
- You do not blame me for refusing him? - Blame you? Oh, no.
But you do blame me for speaking so warmly of Wickham?
No. How could you have known about his vicious character? If indeed he was so very bad.
But I cannot believe Mr Darcy would fabricate such a dreadful slander,
involving his own sister too.
No, it must be true.
- Perhaps there has been some terrible mistake. - No, Jane. That won't do!
You will never be able to make them both good!
There is just enough merit between them to make one good sort of man.
And for my part I'm inclined to believe it's all Mr Darcy's.
Poor Mr Darcy.
Poor Mr Wickham! There is such an expression of goodness in his countenance.
Yes. I'm afraid one has all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it!
But Lizzy, I am sure that when you first read that letter,
you could not have made so light of it as you do now.
Indeed I could not.
I was very uncomfortable. Till that moment I never knew myself.
And I had no Jane to comfort me.
Oh, how I wanted you!
There is one point on which I want your advice.
Should our general acquaintance be informed of Wickham's true character?
Surely there can be no occasion to expose him so cruelly.
- What is your own opinion? - That it ought not be attempted.
Mr Darcy has not authorised me to make it public, especially as regards his sister.
And for the rest, who would believe it?
The general prejudice against Mr Darcy is so violent, and Wickham will soon be gone.
- I believe we should say nothing about it at present. - Yes, I agree.
Perhaps he is sorry now for what he has done and is anxious to re-establish his character in the world.
We must not make him desperate.
Oh, Jane! I wish I could think so well of people as you do.
Won't you speak to papa, Lizzy, about our going to Brighton? You know he listens to your advice.
You flatter me, Lydia. But in any case, I shouldn't attempt to persuade him.
I think it's a very good thing that the regiment should be removed from Meryton,
and that we should be removed from the regiment.
- Oh, Lizzy, how can you say such a thing? - Very easily, ma'am.
If one poor company of militia can cause such havoc in our family, what would a whole campful of soldiers do?
- A whole campful of soldiers! - I remember when I was a girl.
I cried for two days together when Colonel Miller's regiment went away.
- I thought I should have broke my heart! - Well, I'm sure I shall break mine.
And I!
There, there, my dears. But your father is determined to be cruel.
I confess I am.
I'm sorry to be breaking so many hearts, but I have not the smallest intention of yielding.
I shall not break my heart, papa.
The pleasures of Brighton would have no charms for me. I should infinitely prefer a book.
- Mrs Forster says she plans to go sea-bathing. - I am sure I should love to go sea-bathing!
- A little sea-bathing would set me up forever! - And yet, I am unmoved.
Well, well.
I'm glad you have come back, Lizzy. I'm glad you have come back, Jane.
I want to go to Brighton!
You are not happy, Jane.
- It pains me to see it. - It is just that I did...
I'm afraid I still do prefer Mr Bingley to any other man I've met,
and Lizzy, I did believe he...
Well, I was mistaken, that is all.
I am resolved to think of him no more.
There. Enough.
I shall be myself again. As if I had never set eyes on him.
Truly, Lizzy, I promise. I shall be well.
I shall be myself again. I shall be perfectly content.
Well, Lizzy, what do you think now about this sad business of Jane's?
I cannot find out that she saw anything of Bingley in London.
Well.
He is a very undeserving young man! And I don't suppose there's the least chance of her getting him now.
- If he should come back to Netherfield, though. - I think there's little chance of that, mamma.
Oh, well. Just as he chooses.
No one wants him to come!
I shall always say he used my daughter extremely ill! And If I was her, I would not have put up with it.
Well, my comfort is, she will die of a broken heart, and then he'll be sorry for what he's done!
So, the Collinses live quite comfortable, do they?
I only hope it will last.
And I suppose they talk about having this house too when your father is dead?
They look on it as quite their own, I dare say?
They could hardly discuss such a subject in front of me, Mamma.
I make no doubt they talk about it constantly when they're alone!
Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better!
I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed upon me!
Mamma, mamma! Lizzy!
Guess what! You never will, so I'll tell you.
Mrs Forster has invited me, as her particular friend, to go with her to Brighton.
- Colonel Forster is to take a house for us! - Oh, Lydia. I am so happy!
- What an honour to be so singled out! - Is it not unfair, Lizzy?
Mrs Forster should have asked me as well as Lydia.
I may not be her particular friend, but I have just as much right to be asked as she had!
And more too, for I am two years older!
Well, I shall buy her a present, I dare say. There's no call for her to be in a miff because Mrs Forster likes me above anyone.
Lydia, before you crow too loud of your sister, remember papa has not given you permission to go, and nor is he likely to.
But Papa wouldn't stop me going. Not when I've been especially invited by the Colonel of the regiment to be his wife's particular companion!
Oh, Mamma! I shall have to be bought new clothes, for I've nothing fit to wear, and there will be balls and parties every night!
Of course you shall have new things! We wouldn't see you disgraced in front of all the officers!
Ooh! All the officers!
Look, I understand your concern, my dear. But consider:
Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public place,
and here is an opportunity for her to do so, with very little expense or inconvenience to her family.
If you were aware, Father, of the very great disadvantage to us all,
which has arised from Lydia's unguarded and imprudent manner, which has already risen from it, I'm sure you would judge differently.
Already arisen? Who has she frightened away? Some of your lovers?
Don't be cast down, Lizzy. Such squeamish youths are not worth your regret.
- Oh come, Lizzy. - Indeed you are mistaken.
I have no injuries to resent. I speak of general, not particular evils.
Our... position as a family, our very respectability is called into question by Lydia's wild behaviour.
Excuse me. I must speak plainly. If you do not take the trouble to check her, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment.
Her character will be fixed as the most determined flirt that ever made herself and her family ridiculous!
You know that Kitty follows wherever Lydia leads.
Don't you see that they will be censured and despised wherever they are known?
And that they will involve their sisters in their own disgrace.
Lizzy, Lizzy. Come here.
Don't make yourself uneasy, my love.
Wherever you and Jane are known, you must be respected and valued.
And you will not appear to any less advantage for having a couple or...
...I may say, three very silly sisters.
We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton.
Colonel Forster is a sensible man.
And luckily, she's too poor to be an object of prey to a fortune hunter.
Leave it now, Lizzy. I believe all will turn out well.
We are so desolated, Colonel, that the regiment is to leave Meryton,
but words cannot express what we feel about your kindness to our dear Lydia.
Well, ma'am, it appears that Mrs Forster cannot do without her.
Look at the pair of them. Thick as thieves! Lord knows what they find to talk about.
But anything to keep the ladies happy. What do you say, Wickham?
I say amen to that, sir.
There's one lady I shall be very loath to part from.
Well, we must bear it as best we can. You are for Brighton, I shall be touring the Lakes with my aunt and uncle.
I daresay we shall find ample sources of consolation and delight... in our different ways.
Perhaps. How did you find Rosings?
Very interesting. Colonel Fitzwilliam was there with Mr Darcy. Are you acquainted at all with the Colonel?
I...
To some respects, yes, in former years. A very gentlemanly man.
- How did you like him? - I liked him very much, indeed.
His manners are very different from his cousin's.
Yes.
But I think Mr Darcy improves on closer acquaintance.
Indeed?
In what respect?
Has he acquired a touch of civility in his address? For I dare not hope he is improved in essentials.
No. In essentials, I believe he is very much... as he ever was.
Ah.
I don't mean to imply that either his mind or his manners are changed for the better.
Rather, my knowing him better improved my opinion of him.
I see.
Wickham. Wickham.
- Come here. - At your service, ma'am!
Yes, go, go.
I would not wish you back again.
- Goodbye, papa. Goodbye, mamma. - Lydia, my dear, we shall miss you most cruelly!
I shall write every day of what I'm doing and make you wild with envy.
- I can't help it! - I shall not envy her a jot!
Well, I must go. Goodbye, Jane. Goodbye, Lizzy!
If I see any eligible beaux for you, I'll send you word express!
Lord, what a laugh if I should fall and break my head!
I wish you would!
Oh, my dear girl. Take every opportunity of enjoying yourself!
Bye! Bye!
Never mind, Kitty. I dare say, in a year or two you'll have got over it tolerably well.
If anyone should ask for me, I shall be in my library and not to be disturbed.
Hello! I can see, I can see Alicia. Look how she has grown!
You must be so tired.
You have all grown! I think you've all grown since we last said goodbye!
And very pretty too! Now come into the house, then.
Such a sweet, steady girl!
Well, Lizzy!
We bear you bad tidings. Not too grievous though, I hope.
The guilt is mine. My business won't allow me time away to visit all the Lake country.
We shall have to content ourselves with Derbyshire.
Oh.
But Derbyshire has many beauties, has it not?
Indeed. To me Derbyshire is the best of all counties.
You will judge for yourself whether Chatsworth is not the equal of Blenheim.
And surely these southern counties have nothing to compare to the wild
and untamed beauty of the Peaks.
Nature and culture in harmony, you see, Lizzy.
Wildness and artifice, and all in the one perfect county!
And I was born here and grew up here so I should never disagree with that!
Where exactly?
At Lambton, a little town of no consequence to anyone except those fortunate enough to have lived in it.
I think it the dearest place in the world!
Then I shall not be happy till I have seen it.
It has one further claim on your interest: it is but five miles from Pemberley,
and owes much of its prosperity to that great estate.
So near?
Not that I or anyone of my acquaintance enjoyed the privilege of intimacy with that family.
We moved in very different circles.
A hit! Acknowledged. Very good, sir!
- Enough, sir? - Enough. Thank you, Baines.
- Will you come again tomorrow, sir? - Not tomorrow. I have business in the North.
- I'll come back tomorrow week. - Very good, sir. Bid you good day, sir.
Thank you, Baines. Good day.
I shall conquer this. I shall!
Elizabeth, be careful!
How could I face your father if you took a fall?
Beautiful!
- Thank you, Hannah. - You're welcome, sir.
I think I should be quite happy to stay my whole life in Derbyshire!
I'm happy to hear it. Now what do you say to visiting Pemberley tomorrow?
- It's not directly in our way but more than a mile or two out of it. - Do you especially wish to see it, aunt?
I thought you would having heard so much about it.
And the associations are not all unpleasant. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know.
We have no business there.
I should feel awkward to visit the place without a proper invitation.
No more than Blenheim or Chatsworth. There was no awkwardness there.
I shouldn't care for it myself, Lizzy, if it were merely a fine house, richly furnished.
But the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country.
- How far are we from Pemberley, my dear? - Not more than five miles, sir.
- The grounds are very fine, are they not? - As fine as you'll see anywhere, ma'am.
My oldest brother is an under-gardener there.
- Is the family here for the summer? - No, ma'am.
Well?
Perhaps we might visit Pemberley after all.
I think we've seen woods and groves enough to satisfy even your enthusiasm for them, Lizzy!
I confess I had no idea Pemberley was such a great estate.
- Shall we reach the house itself before dark? - Be patient. Wait.
There!
Stop the coach!
I think one would be willing to put up with a good deal to be mistress of Pemberley.
The mistress of Pemberley will have to put up with a good deal, from what I hear.
She's not likely to be anyone we know.
- How do you like the house, Lizzy? - Very well.
I don't think I've ever seen a place so happily situated.
I like it very well indeed.
Drive on!
A pity then, its owner should be such a proud and disagreeable man.
Yes, a great pity.
Perhaps the beauty of the house renders its owner a little less repulsive, Lizzy?
Yes, perhaps.
Perhaps a very little.
Well, shall we apply to the housekeeper to see inside the place?
That's where Mrs Darcy used to write her letters every morning. It was her favourite room.
This is the music room.
Charming! What a lovely room!
Delightful!
And there's a fine prospect from that window down towards the lake.
Look at this, my dear. It's quite magnificent!
Of all this I might have been mistress.
This piano has just come down. It's a present from my master, for Miss Georgiana.
- Your master is from home, we understand. - Yes, but we expect him here tomorrow, sir.
He is coming with a large party of friends and Miss Georgiana.
This portrait was painted earlier this year, for her sixteenth birthday.
She is a very handsome young lady!
Oh, yes! The handsomest young lady that ever was seen.
And so accomplished. She plays and sings all day long!
Lizzy!
Look at this picture.
It reminds me very much of someone we know!
This one, ma'am?
That young gentleman was the son of the late Mr Darcy's steward, Mr Wickham.
He is gone into the army now. But he's turned out very wild. Very wild indeed, I'm afraid.
And that's my master. And very like him too.
It's a handsome face but I've never seen the original. Is it like him, Lizzy?
- Oh. Does this young lady know the master? - Yes, a little.
And he is a handsome gentleman, is he not, ma'am?
- Yes, very handsome. - I'm sure I know none so handsome.
- Nor so kind. - Indeed?
Aye, sir. I've never had a cross word from him in my life. And I've known him since he was four years old.
but then I've always observed that they that are good-natured when they are children, are good-natured when they grow up.
His father was an excellent man. - He was, ma'am. His son will be just like him.
The best landlord and the best master. Ask any of his tenants or his servants.
Some people call him proud. But I fancy that's only because he don't rattle away like other young men do.
Now if you will follow me, there's a finer, larger portrait of him in the gallery upstairs.
This way, sir, if you please.
This fine account of Darcy is not quite consistent with his behaviour to poor Wickham.
- Perhaps we might have been deceived there. - That's not likely, is it?
Ah!
Magnificent!
There!
Would you not like to ride him, sir? No, take him back to the stables.
Mr Darcy.
Miss Bennet. I...
I did not expect to see you, sir. We understood all the family were home or we should never have presumed...
I returned a day early. Excuse me, your parents are in good health?
Yes, they are very well. I thank you, sir.
I'm glad to hear it.
How long have you been in this part of the country?
About two days, sir.
- And where are you staying? - The inn at Lambton.
Yes, of course.
Well, I'm just arrived myself.
And your parents are in good health? And all your sisters?
Yes, they are all in excellent health, sir.
Excuse me.
- The man himself, I presume! - Just as handsome as in his portrait.
- Though perhaps a little less formally attired. - We must leave here at once!
- Of course, if you wish. - Oh, I wish we'd never come!
- What must he think of me? - Was he displeased? What did he say?
Oh, nothing of consequence. He enquired after my parents and...
Miss Bennet.
Please allow me to apologise for not receiving you properly just now. You were not leaving?
- We were, sir. I think we must. - I hope you are not displeased with Pemberley?
No, not at all.
- Then you approve of it? - Very much. I think there are few who would not.
But your good opinion is rarely bestowed, and therefore, more worth the earning.
Thank you.
- Would you do me the honor of introducing me to your friends? - Certainly.
Mr and Mrs Edward Gardiner, Mr Darcy. Mrs Gardiner is my aunt, Mr Darcy.
My sister Jane stayed at their house in Cheapside when she was lately in London.
Delighted to make your acquaintance, madam. Delighted, sir. You're staying at Lambton, I hear.
Yes, sir. I grew up there as a girl.
Delightful village. I remember running from Pemberley to Lambton as a boy almost every day in the horse-chestnut season.
- There was one very fine tree there, I remember. - On the green, by the smithy! - The very one.
- Mr Gardiner, do you care for fishing? - Indeed I do, sir. When I get the chance of it.
If you have time, sir, you must come and fish in my trout stream. There are carp, tench and pike in the lake, for coarse fishing.
I'll shall be happy to provide you with rods and tackle, show you the best spots. Let's walk down now.
Follow us to the lake. My man will show you.
There's a place down there where we...
Is this the proud Darcy you told us of? He is all ease and friendliness. No false dignity at all!
I'm as astonished as you are. I can't imagine what has affected this transformation.
Can you not?
Do you... I...
Pray continue.
I was going to say again, sir, how very unexpected your arrival was.
If we had known you were to be here, we should not have dreamt of invading your privacy.
The housekeeper assured us you would not be here until tomorrow.
Do not make yourself uneasy. I had planned it so myself,
but I found I had business with my steward and so I rode on ahead of the rest of the party without informing anyone.
They will join me tomorrow.
And among them are those who claim an acquaintance with you.
It's Mr Bingley and his sisters.
Oh.
There is the other person in the party who more particularly wishes to know you.
Will you allow me to...
Do I ask too much to introduce my sister to you, during your stay at Lambton?
I should be very happy to make her acquaintance.
Thank you.
I hope we shall meet again very soon.
Good day, Mr Gardiner. Mrs Gardiner.
Good day, Miss Bennet.