them at——, and they were to return in it by dinnertime. Their arrival

was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets—and Jane more{386} especially, who

gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had she

been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what her sister

must endure.
They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast-room to receive

them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up to

the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed,

anxious, uneasy.
Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and

she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and

welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand with an affectionate smile to

Wickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy, with an

alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness.
Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite

so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely

opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was

enough to provoke him.
Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was

Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned

from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when at

length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took notice of

some little alteration in it, and observed, with a laugh, that it was a

great while since she had been there.
Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself; but his manners

were always so pleasing, that, had his character and his marriage been

exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he

claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth{387}

had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat

down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the