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.
“Mr.Darcy!”repeated Elizabeth,in utter amazement.
But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible;or at least it was impossible not to try for information.Mr.Darcy had been at her sister's wedding.It was exactly a scene,and exactly among people, where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go.Conjectures as to the meaning of it,rapid and wild, hurried into her brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her,as placing his conduct in the noblest light,seemed most improbable.She could not bear such suspense;and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, wrote a short letter to her aunt,to request an explanation of what Lydia had dropped,if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been intended.
“If it was to be secret,”said Jane,“say not another word on the subject.You may depend upon my seeking no further.”
Wickham's affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to find it;not equal to Lydia's for him.She had scarcely needed her present observation to be satisfied,from the reason of things,that their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love,rather than by his;and she would have wondered why, without violently caring for her,he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity of having a companion.