[Lydia Bennet has eloped with the worthless rake Wickham, who has no intention of marrying her.]

Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’ conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected:  with tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own suffering and ill-usage;—­blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the errors of her daughter must be principally owing.

“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton with all my family, this would not have happened; but poor, dear Lydia had nobody to take care of her.  Why did the Forsters ever let her go out of their sight?  I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing, if she had been well looked after.  I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge of her; but I was overruled, as I always am.  Poor, dear child!  And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham, wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all?  The Collinses will turn us out, before he is cold in his grave; and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what we shall do.”

They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and Mr. Gardiner, after general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr. Bennet in every endeavor for recovering Lydia.

“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he:  “though it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.  It is not quite a week since they left Brighton.  In a few days more, we may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married, and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as lost.  As soon as I get to town, I shall go to my brother, and make him come home with me, to Grace-church-street, and then we may consult together as to what is to be done.”

“Oh! my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I could most wish for.  And now do, when you get to town, find them out, wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, make them marry.  And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that, but tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them, after they are married.  And above all things, keep Mr. Bennet from fighting.  Tell him what a dreadful state I am in—­that I am frightened out of my wits; and have such tremblings, such flutterings, all over me, such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day.  And tell my dear Lydia not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me, for she does not know which are the best warehouses.  Oh! brother, how kind you are!  I know you will contrive it all.”