 collecting herself as well as she could, she again began the
mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and commanded herself so far
as to examine the meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with
the Pemberley family, was exactly what he had related himself; and the kindness
of the late Mr. Darcy, though she had not before known its extent, agreed
equally well with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the other: but
when she came to the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of
the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was
impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the other;
and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did not err. But
when she read, and re-read with the closest attention, the particulars
immediately following of Wickham's resigning all pretensions to the living, of
his receiving in lieu, so considerable a sum as three thousand pounds, again was
she forced to hesitate. She put down the letter, weighed every circumstance with
what she meant to be impartiality - deliberated on the probability of each
statement - but with little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again
she read on. But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had
believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent, as to render Mr.
Darcy's conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make
him entirely blameless throughout the whole.
    The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to Mr.
Wickham's charge, exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could bring no
proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his entrance into the
--shire Militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man,
who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a slight
acquaintance. Of his former way of life, nothing had been known in Hertfordshire
but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her
power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, voice, and
manner, had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried
to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or
benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least,
by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she
would endeavour to class,
