MINERVA

w. Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one mind.” She held out her hand: he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house. [Illustration: “Mr. Darcy with him.” ] CHAPTER LIII. [Illustration] Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth, by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she had said enough to keep him quiet. The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came; and Mrs. Bennet was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth. “Oh, my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?” “Oh, Lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.” “Write to me very often, my dear.” “As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for writing. My sisters may write to _me_. They will have nothing else to do.” Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. He smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things. “He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.” The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days. “I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.” “This is the consequence, you see, madam, of marrying a daughter,” said Elizabeth. “It must make you better satisfied that your other four are single.” “It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married; but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. If that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.” But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an article of news which then began to be in circulation. The housekeeper at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and smiled, and shook her head, by turns. “Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs. Philips first brought her the news). “Well, so much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what _may_ happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so, it is quite certain he is coming?” “You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nichols was in Meryton last night: I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. He comes down on Thursday, at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.”