regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!{274}”
“Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down to

table. “What do you think? It is excellent news, capital news, and about

a certain person that we all like.”
Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told that he

need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said,—
“Ay, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the

waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse

things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad

he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for

my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is not it?

There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King—there’s for you! She

is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”
“And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection

imprudent as to fortune.”
“She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.”
“But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” said Jane.
“I am sure there is not on his. I will answer for it, he never cared

three straws about her. Who could about such a nasty little freckled

thing?”
Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of such

coarseness of expression herself, the coarseness of the sentiment

was little other than her own breast had formerly harboured and fancied

liberal!
As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was

ordered; and, after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their

boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and

Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it.{275}
“How nicely we are crammed in!” cried Lydia. “I am glad I brought my

bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another band-box! Well, now

let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way

home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all