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called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever."
"That is a failing indeed!"—cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well.—I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me."
"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."
"And your defect is a propensity to hate every body."
"And yours," he replied, with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them."
"Do let us have a little music,"—cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share.—"Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst."
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the piano-forte was opened; and Darcy, after a few moments' recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.
