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The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable

to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with

admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly

fine,--with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the

furniture of Rosings.

"And of this place," thought she, "I might have been mistress!

With these rooms I might have now been familiarly acquainted!

Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in

them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and

aunt. But, no," recollecting herself, "that could never be; my

uncle and aunt would have been lost to me; I should not have been

allowed to invite them."

This was a lucky recollection--it saved her from something like

regret.