Elizabeth woke the next morning to the same thoughts. It was impossible to fix her mind on anything else, so she decided soon after breakfast to give herself air and exercise. She was going directly towards her favourite part of the park, when she remembered that Mr Darcy sometimes came there, and she turned up the narrow road outside Rosings.

After a little time she caught sight of a gentleman within the park. She had turned away, but when she heard a voice calling her, though it was Mr Darcy's, she moved towards the gate. He, too, had reached it by this time. Holding out a letter, he said, with a look of proud calm, 'Will you do me the honour of reading this?' Then he turned and was soon out of sight.

Elizabeth opened the letter and saw two sheets, completely covered in handwriting. The letter had been written at Rosings, at eight o'clock in the morning, and read as follows:

Do not be troubled, madam, on receiving this letter. I write without any intention of upsetting you, or wounding my own self-respect, by mentioning unnecessarily what passed between us last night. But my character demands this to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I ask your attention. You will, I know, give it unwillingly, but I must request it as a matter of justice.

Last night, you charged me with two offences of a very different kind. The first was that I had separated Mr Bingley from your sister, and the other that I had ruined the hopes of Mr Wickham. I must now explain these matters.

I had not been in Hertfordshire for long before I saw that Bingley preferred your oldest sister to any other young woman there. I did not take this seriously, because I had often seen him in love before. But at the ball at Netherfield, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I first realized, through Sir William Lucas's accidental information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had caused a general expectation that they would be married. From that moment I watched my friend carefully, and saw that his attraction to Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever seen in him before. I also watched your sister. Her look and manner were open, cheerful and pleasing as ever, but I saw no sign of strong feeling. If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been deceived. Your greater knowledge of your sister makes it probable that you were right.