"Perhaps it is." He leaned back in his chair. "It does not alter my answer. My daughter is not at liberty to receive your addresses, Mr. Darcy, engaged or otherwise."
Darcy's expression altered."Not at liberty?"
"I see no necessity to explain myself further. It is sufficient that I do not approve."
"I must request your reasons."
"And I must decline to give them. You have presumed far enough already."
"I have acted with honour in every particular," Darcy said, drawing himself up. "I came here directly, I stated my intentions plainly, I asked for nothing I did not have the right to ask. If there is some prior claim upon Miss Elizabeth's hand I have not been informed of, I think I am entitled to know it."
"Entitled," said Mr. Bennet. "You may feel entitled, but I am not obligated to you."
"Is not Miss Elizabeth at least entitled to know?"
"How do you know she does not, and is not simply playing with you?"
"I know," Darcy said, and said nothing more.
"You know, do you?" said Mr. Bennet. "Are you quite sure?"
"I am." He tried once more. "Sir, whatever arrangement exists, whatever prior claim you speak of, if it affects Miss Elizabeth's future she deserves to understand it. Whatever you think of me, she has done nothing to merit being kept in ignorance of her own situation."
"And I think it is none of your concern how I manage my family. I would thank you to stay out of it."
"Please, sir. For her sake."
"Her sake." Mr. Bennet's voice was very level. "Perhaps I will tell her. But not you. You mean nothing to me."
"I may mean nothing to you," he said, "but I am a gentleman and have acted accordingly and with honour, which is more than can be said for—"
"You are very like your kind, Mr. Darcy. Rich, assured, accustomed to having what you want. You think your consequence entitles you to everything, including what is not yours to take. Elizabeth's grandfather thought the same, and it came to nothing. And so too shall this."He rose and opened the door."You will oblige me by not calling at Longbourn again."
Darcy rose and left without bowing.
Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner saw him from the upper passage window. They saw only his back and the rigid set ofhis shoulders, and neither spoke.At length Mrs. Gardiner said, "That did not take long enough."
"No," Elizabeth said. "It did not."
"So. It is as we expected."
“It is. And yet I know him; we will get no explanation if he does not wish to give it.”
Mrs. Gardiner gathered her into her arms. "We will find a way. I will write to Edward. It is not all lost. But for now I think it would be best to say nothing."
Elizabeth dried her eyes. "We should go down. I am sure he will announce his decision, and if we are not there—"
They went downstairs together. Elizabeth was aware, as they descended, that her face would be observed the moment they entered any room, and she took the remaining steps to compose it into something that could bear examination. Mrs. Gardiner squeezed her hand and nodded.
They appeared in the breakfast room and had barely settled when Mr. Bennet came to the doorway. Jane and Mary were already at breakfast with Mr. Collins, who half rose from his chair with the uncertain reflex of a man determined to be respectful without being entirely sure what the occasion required. Mr. Bennet picked up his newspaper from its usual place by his chair and spoke before he had quite opened it.
"I have this morning received a call from Mr. Darcy," he said, his eyes settling on Elizabeth, "and have informed him that his visits to Longbourn are not welcome. I trust that is clearly understood by everyone."
"Perfectly," Elizabeth said, and reached for the toast.
Mr. Collins cleared his throat and attempted to swallow what was in his mouth before speaking, and failed at theattempt. "I feel it my duty to observe," he said, fragments of toast accompanying the sentiment, "that Mr. Darcy is the nephew of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and that any discourtesy shown to him reflects, by extension, upon her ladyship's consequence, which I should not wish—"
“Mr. Collins,” said Mr. Bennet, with dangerous civility, "this is my house. You are welcome to apply to Lady Catherine for her opinion of it, but I do not expect her answer will alter my arrangements."
