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CHAPTER XXXVI . ELIZABETH , when Mr . Darcy gave her the letter , did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers , she had formed no expectation at all of its contents . But such as they were , it may be well supposed how eagerly she went through them , and what a contrariety of emotion they excited . Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined . With amazement did she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power ; and steadfastly was she persuaded , that he could have no explanation to give , which a just sense of shame would not conceal . With a strong prejudice against everything he might say , she began his account of what had happened at Netherfield . She read with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension ; and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring , was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes . His belief of her sister’s insensibility she instantly resolved to be false ; and his account of the real , the worst objections to the match , made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice . He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied her ; his style was not penitent , but haughty . It was all pride and insolence . But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr . Wickham — when she read , with somewhat clearer attention , a relation of events which , if true , must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth , and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself — her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition . Astonishment , apprehension , and even horror , oppressed her . She wished to discredit it entirely , repeatedly exclaiming , “ This must be false ! This cannot be ! This must be the grossest falsehood ! ” — and when she had gone through the whole letter , though scarcely knowing anything of the last page or two , put it hastily away , protesting that she would not regard it , that she would never look in it again . In this perturbed state of mind , with thoughts that could rest on nothing , she walked on ; but it would not do : in half a minute the letter was unfolded again ; and 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 .
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