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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 with 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 been so 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 nearer aspect of the house,all her apprehension of meeting its owner returned.She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been mistaken.On applying to see the place, they were admitted into 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-parlour. 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 splendour,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 to-morrow, with a large party of friends.”How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!

Her aunt now called her to look at a picture.She approached and saw the likeness of Mr.Wickham,suspended,amongst 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.“He 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 much of your master's fine person,”said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture;“it is a 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.