Page 17 of He Insulted My Entire Family Before Proposing

"You may walk beside me. With me suggests agreement."

"I accept the distinction."

They moved along the path. For several steps neither spoke. Elizabeth refused to assist him. A man who had once proposed by listing objections could be trusted to locate words under pressure.

"I owe you more apology than I can make at once," he said.

"That is true."

He looked at her.

"I mention it only to establish common ground," she said.

"I have deserved your severity."

"Careful, Mr. Darcy. If you become too agreeable, I shall suspect illness."

This time he did smile, briefly. "I was wrong about your sister."

The words, plain and unadorned, stopped her more effectively than eloquence could have.

He stopped too.

"I was wrong," he repeated. "I saw composure and called it indifference because that answer suited my objections. I concealed her presence in London from Bingley. I justified it to myself as protection. It was interference."

Elizabeth studied him. "Have you told Mr. Bingley?"

"Yes."

"All?"

"Enough that he knows the fault was mine and the choice must be his."

"Enough is a flexible word in gentlemanly hands."

"All, then," he said, with a little pain. "I told him all that concerned his attachment and my part in separating him from it. I did not speak of matters private to others."

Wickham, she understood. Georgiana.

"Good."

They resumed walking.

"And my family?" she asked.

He inhaled slowly. "I have judged them ungenerously."

"That is the first item. The list beneath it is longer."

"Your mother's behavior alarmed me."

"It alarms us all. Continue."

"Your younger sisters appeared ungoverned."

"They often are."

"Your father's indifference seemed dangerous."