Austen Said:

“And did Colonel Forster appear to think well of Wickham himself? Does he know his real character?”

“I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant. And since this sad affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt; but I hope this may be false.”

“Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him, this could not have happened!”

“Perhaps it would have been better,”

“But to expose the former faults of any person without knowing what their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable. We acted with the best intentions.”

“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia's note to his wife?”

“He brought it with him for us to see.”

“Oh! thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!"

"What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment! But at least it shows, that she was serious on the subject of their journey. Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a scheme of infamy. My poor father! how he must have felt it!”

“I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word for full ten minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in such confusion!”

“Oh! Jane,”

“was there a servant belonging to it who did not know the whole story before the end of the day?”

“I do not know. I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a time is very difficult. My mother was in hysterics, and though I endeavoured to give her every assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so much as I might have done! But the horror of what might possibly happen almost took from me my faculties.”

“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,”

“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,”