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They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came

towards her, and, with an expression of civil disdain, thus

accosted her,--

'So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George

Wickham? Your sister has been talking to me about him,

and asking me a thousand questions; and I find that the

young man forgot to tell you, among his other communica-

tions, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr.

Darcy's steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a

friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions;

for, as to Mr. Darcy's using him ill, it is perfectly false: for,

on the contrary, he has been always remarkably kind to him,

though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most

infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know

very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame; that he

cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned; and that

though my brother thought he could not well avoid including

him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad

to find that he had taken himself out of the way. His coming

into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I

wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss

Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite's guilt; but really,

considering his descent, one could not expect much better.'

'His guilt and his descent appear, by your account, to be

the same,' said Elizabeth, angrily; 'for I have heard you

accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr.

Darcy's steward, and of _that,_ I can assure you, he informed

me himself.'

'I beg your pardon,' replied Miss Bingley, turning away

with a sneer. 'Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.'

'Insolent girl!' said Elizabeth to herself. 'You are much

mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry

attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful igno-

rance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.' She then sought her

eldest sister, who had undertaken to make inquiries on the

same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of such

sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as

sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the occur-

rences of the evening. Elizabeth instantly read her feelings;

and, at that moment, solicitude for Wickham, resentment

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