drove from the town; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much

more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does of the

matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form

such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or

friendless, and who was actually staying in his Colonel’s family, that I

am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends

would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the

regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is

not adequate to the risk.{346}”
“Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment.
“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s

opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and

interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of

Wickham. Can you, yourself, Lizzie, so wholly give him up, as to believe

him capable of it?”
“Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of every other neglect

I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare not

hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland, if that had been the

case?”
“In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof

that they are not gone to Scotland.”
“Oh, but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such a

presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the

Barnet road.”
“Well, then,—supposing them to be in London—they may be there, though

for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptionable purpose. It is

not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it

might strike them that they could be more economically, though less

expeditiously, married in London, than in Scotland.”
“But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their

marriage be private? Oh, no, no—this is not likely. His most particular