MINERVA

Darcy. He looked serious as usual; and, she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps, he could not in her mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, but not an improbable, conjecture. Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her courtesy and address of his friend. Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied. Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did--a question which she could not answer without confusion--said scarcely anything. He was not seated by her: perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but it had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends when he could not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed, without bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry with herself for being so. “Could I expect it to be otherwise?” said she. “Yet why did he come?” She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to him she had hardly courage to speak. She inquired after his sister, but could do no more. “It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet. He readily agreed to it. “I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say, you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled: and one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the ‘Times’ and the ‘Courier,’ I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?” Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could not tell. “It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” continued her mother; “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken away from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the Regulars. Thank heaven! he has _some_ friends, though, perhaps, not so many as he deserves.” Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery of shame that she could h