Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied.
Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow,and sat down again to her work,with an eagerness which it did not often command.She had ventured only one glance at Darcy.He looked serious,as usual;and,she thought,more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps he could not in her mother's presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, but not an improbable,conjecture.