"Yes, always," she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, "I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created."

     "I am," said he, with a firm voice.

     "And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

     "I hope not."

     "It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first."

     "May I ask to what these questions tend?"

     "Merely to the illustration of your character," said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to make it out."

     "And what is your success?"

     She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."