From: anonymous@rip.ax.lt   
      
   ``It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,'' said Mrs. Bennet.   
      
   He readily agreed to it.   
      
   ``I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you   
   meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not   
   true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went   
   away. Miss Lucas is    
   married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of   
   it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the Times and the   
   Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said,   
   "Lately, George    
   Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet," without there being a syllable said of   
   her father, or the place where she lived, or any thing. It was my brother   
   Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward   
   business of it. Did you see    
   it?''   
      
   Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth dared not   
   lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could not tell.   
      
   ``It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,''   
   continued her mother, ``but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to   
   have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place   
   quite northward, it seems,   
    and there they are to stay I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for   
   I suppose you have heard of his leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone   
   into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he has some friends, though perhaps not so   
   many as he deserves.''   
      
   Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery of   
   shame, that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however, the   
   exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done before; and   
   she asked Bingley whether    
   he meant to make any stay in the country at present. A few weeks, he believed.   
      
   ``When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,'' said her mother, ``I   
   beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor.   
   I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of   
   the covies for    
   you.''   
      
   Elizabeth's misery increased, at such unnecessary, such officious attention!   
   Were the same fair prospect to arise at present as had flattered them a year   
   ago, every thing, she was persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious   
   conclusion. At that    
   instant, she felt that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself   
   amends for moments of such painful confusion.   
      
   ``The first wish of my heart,'' said she to herself, ``is never more to be in   
   company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure that will   
   atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either one or the other   
   again!''   
      
   Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no compensation,   
   received soon afterwards material relief, from observing how much the beauty   
   of her sister re-kindled the admiration of her former lover. When first he   
   came in, he had spoken to    
   her but little; but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his   
   attention. He found her as handsome as she had been last year; as good   
   natured, and as unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that   
   no difference should be    
   perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that she talked as much as   
   ever. But her mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when   
   she was silent.   
      
   When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her intended   
   civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at Longbourn in a few days   
   time.   
      
   ``You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,'' she added, ``for when you   
   went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as   
   soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very   
   much disappointed that    
   you did not come back and keep your engagement.''   
      
   Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his   
   concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.   
      
   Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that   
   day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did not think any   
   thing less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had   
   such anxious designs, or    
   satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)