“Not yet,”replied Jane.“But now that my dear uncle is come,I hope everything will be well.”
Elizabeth,as she affectionately embraced her,whilst tears filled the eyes of both,lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been heard of the fugitives.
Mrs.Bennet,to whose apartment they all repaired,after a few minutes' conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected; with tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous conduct of Wickham,and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage; blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the errors of her daughter must principally be owing.
When they were all in the drawing-room,the questions which Elizabeth had already asked were of course repeated by the others,and they soon found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of good,however,which the benevolence of her heart suggested had not yet deserted her;she still expected that it would all end well, and that every morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her father, to explain their proceedings,and,perhaps,announce their marriage.
Elizabeth jumped out;and, after giving each of them a hasty kiss,hurried into the vestibule,where Jane,who came running down from her mother's apartment,immediately met her.