“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.{406}”
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.”
Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing