She grew absolutely ashamed of herself.Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial,prejudiced,absurd.
“How despicably I have acted!”she cried;“I,who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities!who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery!Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love,I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity,not love,has been my folly.Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance,I have courted prepossession and ignorance,and driven reason away,where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”
She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation between Wickham and herself,in their first evening at Mr.Phillips's.Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done,and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct.She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear of seeing Mr.Darcy―that Mr.Darcy might leave the country,but that he should stand his ground;yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball the very next week. She remembered also that,till the Netherfield family had quitted the country,he had told his story to no one but herself;but that after their removal it had been everywhere discussed;that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy's character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.