Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled under her and she felt how little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible,to fetch his master and mistress home instantly.
“Good God! what is the matter?”cried he, with more feeling than politeness;then recollecting himself,“I will not detain you a minute; but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.You are not well enough;you cannot go yourself.”
“Oh! where, where is my uncle?”cried Elizabeth,darting from her seat as she finished the letter,in eagerness to follow him,without losing a moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door it was opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared.Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start,and before he could recover himself to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia's situation, hastily exclaimed,“I beg your pardon,but I must leave you.I must find Mr.Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed;I have not an instant to lose.”
On his quitting the room she sat down, unable to support herself, and looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration,“Let me call your maid.Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief?A glass of wine;shall I get you one?You are very ill.”