Music Welcome to Snuescast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by leisure and comfort. Tonight we shall read the next part to Pride and Prejudice written by Jane Austen. In the last episode, Lydia is overjoyed when the wife of Colonel Forster invites her to brighten. Kitty is peavish not to be included. Elizabeth secretly advises her father not to allow Lydia to go, but he does not take her concern seriously. Before the departure of the regiment, Elizabeth meets Wickham. She sees a new side of him she is less impressed with. He seems concerned to learn that she doesn't think that Darcy is so bad after all. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. When Lydia went away, she promised to write very often and very minutely to her mother and kitty. But her letters were always long expected and always very short. After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, good humor and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longborn. Everything wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter came back again, and summer finery, and summer engagements arose. Mrs. Bennett was restored to her usual

quarrelous serenity, and by the middle of June Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Mariton without tears. An event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless by some cruel and malicious arrangement at the war office another regiment should be quartered in Mariton. The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast approaching, and a fortnight only was one thing of it, when a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardner would be prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a month, and as that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as they had

proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the lakes and substitute a more contracted tour. And according to the present plan, where to go no farther northwards than Darbyshire. In that county, there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks, and to Mrs. Gardiner, it had a peculiarly strong attraction.

The town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovdale, or the Peac. Elizabeth was excessively disappointed. She had set her heart on seeing the lakes and still thought there might have been enough time. But it was her business to be satisfied, and certainly her temper to be happy, and all was soon right again. With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its owner. But Shirley said she, I may enter his county with impunity and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me. The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away before her uncle and aunt's arrival. but they did pass away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at Longborn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two younger boys, were be left under the particular care of their cousin Jane, who was the general favorite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every way, teaching them, playing with them, and loving them. The gardeners stayed only one night at Longborn and set off the next morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. enjoyment was certain, that of suitableness of companions, a suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences, cheerfulness to enhance enhance every pleasure and affection and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad. It is not the object of this work to give a description of Darbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places through which their root, their lay, Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kennellworth, Birmingham, etc., are sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present concern. To the little town of Lampton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner's former residence, and where she had lately learned some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps after having seen all the principal wonders of the country, and within five miles of

Lampden, Elizabeth found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not in their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it.

In talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation. I love, should you not like to see a place of which you have heard so much,' said her aunt, "'a place too, with which so many of your acquaintances are connected. Wicken passed all of his youth there, you know. Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Pemberley and was obliged to assume a dis inclination for seeing it. She must own that she was tired of seeing great houses after going over so many. She really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains. Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. If it were merely a fine house richly furnished, said she, I should not care about it myself, but the grounds aren't delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country." Elizabeth said no more, but her mind could not acquiesce. possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy while viewing the place instantly occurred. It would be dreadful. She blushed at the very idea and thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there were objections, and she finally resolved that it could be the last resource if her private inquiries to the absence of the family were unfavorably answered. Hardingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid whether Pemberley were not a very fine place. What was the name of its proprietor? And with no little alarm, whether the family were down for the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question, and her alarm snout being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself. And when the subject was revived the next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of indifference. She had not really any disliked to the scheme. To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go. Chapter 43. Elizabeth as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation, and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. The park was very large and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points and drove for some time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent. Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half a mile and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road was some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills, and in front a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had so been little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration, and at that moment, she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something. They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door, and, while examining the near aspect of the house, all her apprehension of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded, lest the chamber-made had been mistaken. On applying to the place, they were admitted to the hall, and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her being where she was. The housekeeper came, a respectable looking elderly woman, much less fine, and more civil than she had any notion of finding her. They followed her into the dining-parler. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good, and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were taking different positions, but from every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of its proprietor, but Elizabeth saw with admiration of his taste that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine, with less of splendor and more real elegance than the furniture of Rosings. And of this place, thought she, I might have been mistress, with these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted. Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But no, recollecting herself. That could never be. My uncle and aunt would have been lost to me. I should not have been allowed to invite them. This was a lucky recollection. It saved her from something very like regret. She longed to inquire of the housekeeper, whether her master was really absent, but had not the courage for it. At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle, and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was adding, but we expect him tomorrow with a large party of friends. How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed by a day. Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached and saw the likeness of Mr. Wickham suspended among several other miniatures over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her smilingly how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward and told them it was a picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master's steward, who had been brought up by him at his own expense. She is now gone into the army, she added, but I am afraid he has turned out very wild. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not return it. And that, said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures, is my master, and very like him, it was drawn at the same time as the other about eight years ago. I have heard very much of your master's fine person, said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture. It is a very handsome face, but Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not. Mrs. Reynolds' respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master. Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy? Elizabeth colored and said, a little. And do you not think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am? Yes, very handsome. I am sure I know none so handsome, but in the gallery upstairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late master's favorite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them. This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham's being among them. Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight years old. And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother? Said Mrs. Gardiner. Oh, yes, the handsome-ish young lady that ever was seen and so accomplished. She plays in sings all day long. In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her, a present from my master. She comes here tomorrow with him. Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks. This is Reynolds, either by pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister. Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year? Not so much as I could wish, sir, but I dare say he may spend half his time here, and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months. Except, though Elizabeth, when she goes to Graham's gate. If your master would marry, you might see more of him. Yes, sir, but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who was good enough for him. Mr. and Mrs. Gardener smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, it is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.

I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that who knows him?" Reply'd the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far, and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, I have never known a crossword from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old. This was praise of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened. She longed to hear more and was grateful to her uncle for saying, there are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky to have such a master. Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. I have always observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up, and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world. Elizabeth almost stared at her. Can this be Mr. Darcy? Thought she. His father was an excellent man, said Mrs. Gardiner. Yes, ma'am, that he was indeed, and his son will be just like him, just as

affable to the poor. Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could entrust her on no other point.

She related the subjects of the pictures, the dimensions of... Mrs. Reynolds could entrust her on no other point.

She related the subjects of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture in vain. Mr. Cardiner highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master. Soon led again to the subject, and she dwelt with energy on his many merits as they proceeded to gather up the great staircase. He is the best landlord and the best master, said she, that ever lived, not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenons or servants, but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud, but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men. In what an amiable light does she place him, thought Elizabeth? This fine account of him whispered her on as they walked, is not quite consistent with his behavior to our poor friend. Perhaps we have been deceived. That is not very likely. Our authority was too good. On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shown into a very pretty sitting room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below, and were informed that it was but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room when last at Pemberley.

He is certainly a good brother," said Elizabeth, as she walked towards one of the windows. Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy's delight when she should enter the room. And this is always the way with him, she added, whatever can give his sister any pleasure

is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her. The picture gallery and two or three of the principal bedrooms were all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings, but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art, and from such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss Darcees in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting and also more intelligible.

In the gallery, there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested her,

and she beheld a striking resemblance to Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face and she remembered to have sometimes seen when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture, in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they could eat the gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father's lifetime. There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards the original than she had ever felt at the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people's happiness were in his guardianship. How much of pleasure or pain was it in his power to bestow? How much of good or evil must be done by him? Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favorable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas on which he was represented and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard, with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before. She remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression. When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned downstairs, and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener who met them at the hall door. As they walked across the hall towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again. Her uncle and on stopped also. And while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables. They were within 20 yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance

that it was impossible to avoid his sight. you you