Austen Said:

“Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away?”

nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from that,

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.”

“I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”

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

“Dear madam,”

“don't you know there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here this half-hour, and master has had a letter.”

“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,”

“as neither you, nor I, nor anybody, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”

“May we take my uncle's letter to read to her?”

her daughter would be married was enough.

“My dear, dear Lydia!”

“This is delightful indeed! She will be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be. I knew he would manage everything! How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell, Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”