“I thank you for my share of the favour,”said Elizabeth;“but I do not particularly like your way of getting husbands.”
They came.The family were assembled in the breakfast room to receive them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet as the carriage drove up to the door;her husband looked impenetrably grave;her daughters,alarmed,anxious,uneasy.
“Very true;and if I had my will,we should.But my dear Lydia,I don't at all like your going such a way off.Must it be so?”
Their sister's wedding day arrived;and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her probably more than she felt for herself.The carriage was sent to meet them at―,and they were to return in it by dinner-time.Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets, and Jane more especially, who gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself,had she been the culprit,and was wretched in the thought of what her sister must endure.
Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself, but his manners were always so pleasing,that had his character and his marriage been exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address,while he claimed their relationship,would have delighted them all. Elizabeth had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance;but she sat down,resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of an impudent man. She blushed,and Jane blushed;but the cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of colour.