'Good heavens！'cried Elizabeth；'but how could that be？—How could his will be disregarded？—Why did not you seek legal redress？'
'There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention，but Mr.Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation，and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance，imprudence，in short any thing or nothing.Certain it is，that the living became vacant two years ago，exactly as I was of an age to hold it，and that it was given to another man；and no less certain is it，that I cannot accuse myself of having really done any thing to deserve to lose it.I have a warm，unguarded temper，and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him，and to him，too freely.I can recall nothing worse.But the fact is，that we are very different sort of men，and that he hates me.'
'This is quite shocking！—He deserves to be publicly disgraced.'
'Some time or other he will be—but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father，I can never defy or expose him.'
Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings，and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.
'But what，'said she，after a pause，'can have been his motive？—what can have induced him to behave so cruelly？'
'A thorough，determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr.Darcy liked me less，his son might have borne with me better；but his father's uncommon attachment to me，irritated him I believe very early in life.He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort of preference which was often given me.'
'I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this—though I have never liked him，I had not thought so very ill of him—I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general，but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge，such injustice，such inhumanity as this！'
After a few minutes reflection，however，she continued，.'I do remember his boasting one day，at Netherfield，of the implacability of his resentments，of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful.'
'I will not trust myself on the subject，'replied Wickham，'I can hardly be just to him.'
Elizabeth was again deep in thought，and after a time exclaimed，'To treat in such a manner，the godson，the friend，the favourite of his father！'—She could have added，'A young man too，like you，whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable'—but she contented herself with'And one，too，who had probably been his own companion from childhood，connected together，as I think you said，in the closest manner！'
'We were born in the same parish，within the same park，the greatest part of our youth was passed together；inmates of the same house，sharing the same amusements，objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle，Mr.Philips，appears to do so much credit to—but he gave up every thing to be of use to the late Mr Darcy，and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property.He was most highly esteemed by Mr.Darcy，a most intimate，confidential friend.Mr.Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendance，and when immediately before my father's death，Mr.Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me，I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him，as of affection to myself.'
'How strange！'cried Elizabeth.'How abominable！—I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you！—If from no better motive，that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest，—for dishonesty I must call it.'
'It is wonderful，'—replied Wickham，—'for almost all his actions may be traced to pride；—and pride has often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling.But we are none of us consistent；and in his behaviour to me，there were stronger impulses even than pride.'
'Can such abominable pride as his，have ever done him good？'
'Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous，—to give his money freely，to display hospitality，to assist his tenants，and relieve the poor.Family pride，and filial pride，for he is very proud of what his father was，have done this.Not to appear to disgrace his family，to degenerate from the popular qualities，or lose the influence of the Pemberley House，is a powerful motive.He has also brotherly pride，which with some brotherly affection，makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister；and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers.'
'What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy？'
He shook his head.—'I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy.But she is too much like her brother，—very，very proud.—As a child，she was affectionate and pleasing，and extremely fond of me；and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement.But she is nothing to me now.She is a handsome girl，about fifteen or sixteen，and I understand highly accomplished.Since her father's death，her home has been London，where a lady lives with her，and superintends her education.'
After many pauses and many trials of other subjects，Elizabeth could not help reverting once more to the first，and saying，
'I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley！How can Mr.Bingley，who seems good humour itself，and is，I really believe，truly amiable，be in friendship with such a man？How can they suit each other？—Do you know Mr.Bingley？'
'Not at all.'
'He is a sweet tempered，amiable，charming man. He cannot know what Mr.Darcy is.'
