It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment

from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good

spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, the Lucases, and all

their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham” by

each of them; and in the meantime she went after dinner to show her ring

and boast of being married to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids.
“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the

breakfast-room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a

charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they

may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the

place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!”
“Very true; and if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia, I don’t

at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”
“Oh, Lord! yes; there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things.

You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We shall be at

Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I

will take care to get good partners for them all.{389}”
“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother.
“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters

behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the

winter is over.”
“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth; “but I do not

particularly like your way of getting husbands.”
Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham

had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join

his regiment at the end of a fortnight.
No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and

she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and

having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to

all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did

think than such as did not.