Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine's visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking; Mary could never spare time; but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and perhaps he might be doing the same.
They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed, and, while her courage was high, she immediately said,
"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding your's. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."
"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, "that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."
"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them."
"If you will thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."
Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."
Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.
They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in her ladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance; in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.
"It taught me to hope," said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly."
Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, "Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations."
"What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence."
"We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," said Elizabeth. "The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility."
"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: "had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner." Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; -- though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."
"I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way."
"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me."
"Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it."
Darcy mentioned his letter. "Did it," said he, "did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?"
She explained what its effect on her had been, and how gradually all her former prejudices had been removed.
"I knew," said he, "that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me."
"The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies."
"When I wrote that letter," replied Darcy, "I believed myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit."
"The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."
"I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You shewed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."
"Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?"
"Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses."
"My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after that evening?"
"Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon began to take a proper direction."
"I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?"
"No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise."
"Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due."
"My object then," replied Darcy, "was to shew you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you."
He then told her of Georgiana's delight in her acquaintance, and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally leading to the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been formed before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must comprehend.
She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to each, to be dwelt on farther.
After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know any thing about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that it was time to be at home.
"What could become of Mr. Bingley and Jane!" was a wonder which introduced the discussion of their affairs. Darcy was delighted with their engagement; his friend had given him the earliest information of it.
"I must ask whether you were surprised?" said Elizabeth.
"Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen."
"That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much." And though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it had been pretty much the case.
"On the evening before my going to London," said he, "I made a confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together."
Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his friend.
"Did you speak from your own observation," said she, "when you told him that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?"
"From the former. I had narrowly observed her during the two visits which I had lately made here; and I was convinced of her affection."
"And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to him."
"It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine made every thing easy. I was obliged to confess one thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained in any doubt of your sister's sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me now."
Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable; but she checked herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness of Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they parted.
--正文
跟伊丽莎白猜想的不同，她本来以为达西会让宾利带一份信开脱自己，但是在卡瑟林夫人拜访很多天之后，宾利带着达西一起回到了蘑菇屯。这两位先生很早就到了，本内特太太还没来得及跟达西说见过他姨母，宾利因为想跟简单独在一起，就提出一起出去走走，而伊丽莎白一动不动地坐在那很害怕自己母亲提起这个话题。简同意了跟宾利一起出去走走。本内特太太没有散步的习惯。而玛丽呢则没空，但是其余的五个人都一起出去散步了。宾利和简很快就落在人群后面，他们远远地落在后面，留下伊丽莎白，凯蒂和达西三个人互相应酬。三个人之间都没有说什么。凯蒂太害怕达西了不敢说话。而伊丽莎白正酝酿了一个绝望的举动，也许达西也在做同样的事情。
他们一起走去卢卡斯一家，因为凯蒂想去拜访玛丽亚。伊丽莎白知道只有凯蒂一个人感兴趣，因此在凯蒂离开之后就大胆地跟达西独自前行。现在应该是实现计划的时候了，等到自己攒足了勇气，她立刻说：“
达西先生，我是个很自私的人。而现在为了让我自己好过，我也不在乎会如何伤害你的感情。我再也忍不住想感谢你，感谢你对我那可怜妹妹的前所未有的善意。自从我得知此事起，我就一直想跟你说我是多么地感激你。如果这件事我家里人也知道，那就不会只是我来感谢你了。”
“我很抱歉，极其抱歉，”达西十分惊讶激动地说，“你知道了这件可能让你难过的事情。我以为加德纳夫人是值得信任的呢。”
“你不能怪我的姑姑。是莉迪亚自己不小心把你卷入到这件事情中透露出来的。当然了，找不到真相我也不会善罢甘休的。就让我以我全家人的名义，感谢你一遍又一遍，感谢你的同理心让你介入到这件事情，还因为隐瞒这件事情又遭受到许多非议。”
“如果你想感谢我，”达西说，“那么只要你感谢就行。之前希望让你开心，我才介入到这件事情了，我也不打算否认。但是你家人不亏欠我什么。尽管我很尊敬他们，但是当时我只想到了你。”
伊丽莎白十分害羞，已经说不出话了。短暂停顿了一会，达西接着说，“你那么大方，是不会愿意戏弄我的。如果你对我的感情还是跟去年四月一样，那么就一次告诉我。我对你的感情和祝福没有改变，但是一个字就会让我再也不提起这件事。”
伊丽莎白感受到了达西超出平常的尴尬和紧张，所以不得不开口说话了。而伊丽莎白立即就告诉了达西，虽然有些磕绊，自己对他的感情自从去年四月至今，已经发生了无比重大的变化，所以此刻听到他说的这些话，自己是十分感激，而且开心的。而这一番话给达西带来的快乐，是他之前从没有体会过的。而达西作为一个疯狂坠入爱河的人，极为理性和温和地表达了自己的感情。假如伊丽莎白看到了他的眼睛，她就能看到真诚的快乐弥漫在他的脸上。但是尽管她不敢看，但是能听得到，达西告诉了她自己的感受，证明她对于自己是多么的重要，而这让他的喜爱更加珍贵。
他们就这么漫无边际的走着。有太多的东西需要想，有太多的东西需要感受，有太多的东西需要说，所以他们根本注意不到别的事情。伊丽莎白很快就得知现在和睦的氛围还得感谢达西的姨妈，她在返回伦敦的时候确实拜访了达西，而且也告诉了他自己去了蘑菇屯，又说了为什么去，然后又说了自己跟伊丽莎白聊天的内容。断然地提起伊丽莎白说的每一句话，说她是有多么的顽固，而这让卡瑟林夫人很紧张。卡瑟林夫人觉得以自己与达西的关系，在伊丽莎白已经拒绝的情况下，让自己外甥答应娶自己的女儿还是很容易的。但是很不幸的是，事实恰好相反。
“这些话让我重新燃起了希望，”达西说，“而在之前这是我所没有的。我很了解你的性格，知道假如你真的彻底地，不可挽回地讨厌我的话，你就会坦诚布公地跟卡瑟林夫人承认了。”
伊丽莎白脸又红了，她笑着回答说，“是的，你确实知道能够做出那种事的。我之前能够当你的面极端羞辱你，那么我也能在你亲戚面前羞辱你。”
“你当时说我的话，又有哪句不对呢？尽管你当时的指责是建立在错误的基础上的，但是我当时的行为确实也证明了你的说法。那是不可原谅的，我自己想起来都觉得厌恶。”
“我们就别聊那天晚上锅是谁的了，”伊丽莎白说，“如果严格地说，我们两个人都有过错，但是我希望从那次后，我们都能更礼貌一些。”
“我可不能就这么原谅我自己。每当想起我之前说的话、做的事、我的举止，尽管已经过去几个月了，但还是让我十分痛苦。你当时对我的指责说得那么好，我永远也忘不掉。'要是你表现地更绅士一点的话'当时你就是这么说的。你不知道，你也无法相信，这句话是如何折磨着我的。但是我也承认，我也是过了段时间才承认这句话骂得好。”
“我完全不知道这句话有那么大的威力。我完全不曾想到你会这么想。”
“我明白。你当时肯定以为我这人是没什么正常感情的，我很确定你是这么想的。 你当时说不论我怎么跟你说，你都不会让你接受我的，那一刻你表情的变化，我永远不会忘记。”
“额，别再重复我之前说过的话了。现在回忆这些事情没有什么用处。我跟你保证，很久之前我想起说过的这些话就感到羞愧了。”
达西提起了他的心。“当时你读了这封信对我的印象有很快变好吗？你在读那封信的时候相信上面说的话吗？”
伊丽莎白就说起了自己读完信的感受，她之前的偏见是如何一步步移除的。
“我知道我写的东西会让你难受，但是这有必要。”达西说，“我希望你已经毁了那封信。但是信上开口的地方有一部分话我倒是害怕你再读一遍，因为我记得写的东西可能会让你恨我。”
“如果你害怕这封信影响我尊重你，那么就把它烧掉吧。但是尽管可以相信我的观点不是完全不可改变，但是我希望它们也不会那么简单就会变掉。”
“我当时写那封信的时候，我觉得自己十分冷静，”达西说，“但是我现在很确定，当时我心里很难受。”
“那封信开头可能很痛苦，但是结尾并没有这样。最后的告别很宽容。但是别想这封信了。写这封信的人和读这封信的人的感情现在都已经变化很大了，所以当时的不快此刻应该都被忘掉。你得学学我的哲学。你回忆过去也只要回忆让你快乐的事情。”
“我并不觉得你有那样的哲学。在你眼中，以前没有一件事应该受到指责，因此你回忆起过往都觉得很满意。这与其说是你的人生观，倒不如说是你天真无邪。但是对我来说却不是这样。我回忆起之前的事情总是觉得很难过，而这不能被赶走，也不该被赶走。我这一生都是个自私的人，虽然原则上来说我不自私，但是事实上却自私了一辈子。小的时候，父母教导了我什么是正确，但是我没有学会改自己的脾气。别人教会了我正直的世界观，但是却让我傲慢而自负地实行他们。很不幸地是，作为家里很长时间以来唯一的孩子，我被父母宠坏了，他们本身行为品德都十分完美（尤其是我父亲，慈爱而随和），但是他们允许我，鼓励我，甚至教导我成为了一个自私而跋扈的人。除了自己家里的人，别人都不在乎，把别人都往坏处想，至少恶意地以为跟我相比别人的思想和价值都不如我。我就这样从八岁长到了二十八岁。要不是遇到了你，我亲爱的伊丽莎白，我很可能还是这样。我真是欠你太多了！你给我上了一课，虽然一开始很艰难，但还是很有好处的。正是因为你我才学会了谦卑。 我当时向你求婚的时候，从没有想过会被拒绝。你让我明白假如认定要取悦一个好姑娘时，又对她自命不凡，那一定是没用的。”
“你那时候以为我应该接受你？”
“确实如此。你现在会怎么想我的虚荣心？我当时以为你等着我跟你说话呢。”
“我向你保证我的行为肯定是错的，但并不是有意的。我从没打算要骗你，但是我的表现总是跟我的想法不一致。那晚之后你一定恨死我了吧？”
“恨你？也许一开始我很生气，但是很快我就平复下来了。”
“我们当时在彭伯里见面的时候，我甚至有点害怕问你对我的看法是怎样的。你怪我不该来吗？”
“完全没有。我只觉得惊讶。”
“你不可能比我看到你的时候更惊讶。我心里自认不值得你的额外礼遇，我也没想着会被热情接待。”
达西说：“我当时的想法是竭尽所能向你展示我礼貌地一面，我并不是一个刻薄记仇的人。我希望能改变你指责我的地方，来获得你的原谅，减弱你对我的厌恶。至于过了多久我又想起了其它的念头，我也不好说，但是大概在见到你半小时后吧。”
然后达西就告诉伊丽莎白，乔治安娜见到她有多么开心，又说起她临时走了乔治安娜有多么难过。然后很快说起了伊丽莎白突然离开的原因，然后伊丽莎白很快得知，其实达西离开宾馆之前，就已经下定决心从德比郡跟着她去找莉迪亚了。而他当时心事重重地，不过是在思考该如何寻找莉迪亚。
伊丽莎白再次表达了自己的感激，但是这个话题对于双方来说都过于难过，因此也就没有继续深入聊下去。
在闲逛了几英里之后，而他们沉醉于其中根本没意识到，终于他们看了看表，知道已经到了回家的时间了。
“宾利和简以后会怎么样呢！“两人又开始谈起了这件事情。达西很高兴他们俩订婚了，宾利第一时间告诉了他。
”我必须得问，你听说后惊讶么？“伊丽莎白说
”一点也不。我离开之后就感觉到他们俩很快就会订婚。“
”那也就是说，你已经给了宾利许可了。我猜是这样。“尽管达西否则这句话，但是伊丽莎白发现差不多就是这么回事。
”我去伦敦前的一天晚上，“达西说，”我跟宾利说了些早就该说的话。我跟他说之前让我干涉他婚事的起因，都是荒诞而粗鲁的。宾利听了十分惊讶。他之前从没有怀疑我说的话。然后我又跟他说我之前认为你姐姐对他毫不关心，是我搞错了。而我猜到他对你姐姐的感情丝毫未减，所以就完全不怀疑他们后来会在一起了。“
伊丽莎白听到达西如此轻松地劝了宾利，忍不住笑了起来。
”你说我姐姐爱她，是根据自己的观察得出的结论，还是仅仅听我去年春天的一面之词？“伊丽莎白说。
”我自己观察的。最近两次我来这儿的时候，短暂观察了她一会，确认了她很喜欢宾利。“
”那我猜，你一旦确认宾利自然就会相信了。“
”是的。宾利其人十分谦虚。他性格有些害羞，所以在这样一件着急的事情上面，很难依靠自己的意见，但是他信任我就让一切事情变得简单了。但是我必须得坦白一件事情，而这事确实让他生气了。去年冬天你姐姐在伦敦待了3个月，我知道这件事情，但是我刻意没跟他说。宾利很生气。但是我知道当时他明白了你姐姐对他的感情，怒气自然就消掉了。而现在他已经真心原谅我了。“
伊丽莎白很早就发现宾利是个很讨喜的朋友，而且很容易被别人牵着鼻子走。但是她忍住了没说，她知道现在跟达西开玩笑还太早。达西继续跟伊丽莎白聊着宾利的幸福婚事，当然此刻达西更加幸福，就这样他们走到了房子那儿，然后在客厅里两人分别了。