In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
"What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear."
"For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. -- What advantage can it be to you to offend Mr. Darcy? -- You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing."
Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and steady gravity.
伊丽莎白一心想要挫挫她母亲的谈锋,便劝她谈起得意的事情来要放得小声小气一点,因为达西先生就坐在她们对面,可见得大部份的话都让他听到了。可是劝也无用,她的母亲只顾骂她废话,她真是说不出的气恼。
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