“Lizzy, I never gave you an account of my wedding, I believe. You were not by,when I told mamma and the others all about it. Are not you curious to hear how it was managed?”

“Well,and so we breakfasted at ten as usual;I thought it would never be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand, that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you'll believe me, I did not once put my foot out of doors,though I was there a fortnight.Not one party,or scheme, or anything.To be sure London was rather thin,but,however,the Little Theatre was open.

“You may readily comprehend,”she added,“what my curiosity must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us,and (comparatively speaking) a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such a time.Pray write instantly,and let me understand it―unless it is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary;and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.”

Wickham's affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to find it;not equal to Lydia's for him.She had scarcely needed her present observation to be satisfied,from the reason of things,that their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love,rather than by his;and she would have wondered why, without violently caring for her,he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity of having a companion.

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