Elizabeth almost stared at her.“Can this be Mr. Darcy?”thought she.
“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 tenants or servants but what 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.”
They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met,and the cheeks of both were overspread with the deepest blush.He absolutely started,and for a moment seemed immovable from surprise;but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure,at least of perfect civility.
As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again;her uncle and aunt 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.
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 favourable 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.