Part 23 (1/2)
ELIZABETH.
[_With indifference._] Ah!
MISS BINGLEY.
Yes, and therefore we resent these falsehoods and this presumption on the part of George Wickham. But, really, considering his descent, we could not expect much better. He has evidently forgotten to tell you that he is the son of old Wickham, steward to the late Mr. Darcy.
ELIZABETH.
[_Angrily._] His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same. I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward, and of _that_, I can a.s.sure you, he informed me himself.
MISS BINGLEY.
[_With a sneer._] Oh! I beg your pardon. Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.
[_She goes out._]
ELIZABETH.
Insolent girl! You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack at this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.
[FOOTMEN _now come in with small tables, which they place about the stage_. BINGLEY _comes in and directs them_. DARCY _follows him_.]
BINGLEY.
[To ELIZABETH, JANE, _his sister, and others who have entered_.] I thought it would be pleasant to have some of the tables here. [_To_ JANE.] We must have places together.
[_With some bustle, all seat themselves. At the table on one side are seated_ DARCY, ELIZABETH, BINGLEY _and_ JANE: _A little behind them are_ MISS BINGLEY _with_ COLONEL FORSTER, CHARLOTTE LUCAS _with an officer. At the table on the opposite side is_ MRS. BENNET _with_ SIR WILLIAM _and_ LADY LUCAS. _Behind them are more tables at which other guests are seated._]
LYDIA.
[_Entering with_ DENNY, _much excited, goes to_ MRS. BENNET.] Mamma, have you heard the news? Mr. Denny has just told me that the regiment is to leave Meryton, and go to Brighton! Good heavens! What is to become of us, mamma?
MRS. BENNET.
[_Sympathetically._] Are they really going? Well, my love, it _is_ too bad! I know how you feel. I am sure I cried for two days together when Colonel Millar's regiment went away, five-and-twenty years ago. I thought I should have broken my heart.
LYDIA.
I am sure I shall break mine. [_Coaxingly._] Mamma, might we not _all_ go to Brighton?
MRS. BENNET.