always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told

Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the

house, he was used to be free from them there: his civility, therefore,

was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their

walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker

than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close his large book, and

go.
In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his

cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of

the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes

were immediately wandering up the street in quest of the officers, and

nothing less than a very smart bonnet, indeed, or a really new muslin in

a shop window, could recall them.
But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom

they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking

with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very

Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and

he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all

wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible{92}

to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting

something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the

pavement, when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same

spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to

introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day

before from town, and, he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in

their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted

only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was

greatly in his favour: he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine

countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction