Chapter 11 60
" No ," said Darcy , " I have made no such pretension . I have faults enough , but they are not , I hope , of understanding . My temper I dare not vouch for . It is , I believe , too little yielding--certainly too little for the convenience of the world . I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought , nor their offenses against myself . My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them . My temper would perhaps be called resentful . My good opinion once lost , is lost forever ."
" That is a failing indeed !" cried Elizabeth . " Implacable resentment is a shade in a character . But you have chosen your fault well . I really cannot laugh at it . You are safe from me ."
" There is , I believe , in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil--a natural defect , which not even the best education can overcome ."
" And your defect is to hate everybody ." " And yours ," he replied with a smile , " is willfully to misunderstand them ."
" Do let us have a little music ," cried Miss Bingley , tired of a conversation in which she had no share . " Louisa , you will not mind my waking Mr . Hurst ?"
Her sister had not the smallest objection , and the pianoforte was opened ; and Darcy , after a few moments ' recollection , was not sorry for it . He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention .