Chapter 35

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Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and

meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could

not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was

impossible to think of anything else; and, totally indisposed

for employment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulge

herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her

favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes

coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she

turned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpike-road.

The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she

soon passed one of the gates into the ground.

After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she

was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the

gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now

passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and

every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was

on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse

of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park;

he was moving that way; and, fearful of its being Mr. Darcy,

she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was

now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness,

pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearing

herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr.

Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time

reached it also, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctively

took, said, with a look of haughty composure, "I have been

walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will

you do me the honour of reading that letter?" And then, with a

slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon out of

sight.

With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity,

Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder,

perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper,

written quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself

was likewise full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then

began it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o'clock in the

morning, and was as follows:--

"Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the

apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments

or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to

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