Austen Said:

“Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do not look well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had every care and anxiety upon yourself alone.”

“Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in every fatigue, I am sure; but I did not think it right for either of them. Kitty is slight and delicate; and Mary studies so much, that her hours of repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Phillips came to Longbourn on Tuesday, after my father went away; and was so good as to stay till Thursday with me. She was of great use and comfort to us all. And Lady Lucas has been very kind; she walked here on Wednesday morning to condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her daughters', if they should be of use to us.”

“She had better have stayed at home,”

“perhaps she meant well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little of one's neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied."

into the measures which her father had intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter.

“He meant I believe,”

"to go to Epsom, the place where they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if anything could be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the number of the hackney coach which took them from ’ Clapham. It had come with a fare from London; and as he thought that the circumstance of a gentleman and lady's removing from one carriage into another might be remarked he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be impossible to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do not know of any other designs that he had formed; but he was in such a hurry to be gone, and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty in finding out even so much as this.”

She had never heard of his having had any relations, except a father and mother, both of whom had been dead many years. It was possible, however, that some of his companions in the ——shire, might be able to give more information;

“A gamester!”

“This is wholly unexpected. I had not an idea of it.”

had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better.

It would have spared her,

one sleepless night out of two.

“You must not be too severe upon yourself,”

“Do you suppose them to be in London?”

“And Lydia used to want to go to London,”

“I am not going to run away, papa,”

“If I should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.”

“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”

“Oh, papa, what news — what news? Have you heard from my uncle?”

“Well, and what news does it bring — good or bad?”

“Then it is as I always hoped,”

“they are married!”

“Is it possible?”

“Can it be possible that he will marry her?”

“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him,”

“My dear father, I congratulate you.”

“And have you answered the letter?”

to lose no more time before he wrote.

“Oh! my dear father,”

“come back and write immediately. Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”

“Let me write for you,”

“if you dislike the trouble yourself.”

“And may I ask —”

“but the terms, I suppose, must be complied with.”

“And they must marry! Yet he is such a man!”

“Money! My uncle!”

“what do you mean, sir?”

“That is very true,”

“though it had not occurred to me before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh! it must be my uncle's doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”

“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be repaid?”

“And they are really to be married!”

“How strange this is! And for this we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice. Oh, Lydia!”

“I comfort myself with thinking,”

“that he certainly would not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand pounds?”

“If he were ever able to learn what Wickham's debts have been,”

“and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited. Their taking her home, and affording her their personal protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she first sees my aunt!”

“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,”

“I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.”

“Their conduct has been such,”