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.
No one but Mrs.Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short;and she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and having very frequent parties at home.These parties were acceptable to all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did think,than such as did not.
On such encouragement to ask,Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her power,by running away.
“Well,and so we breakfasted at ten as usual;I thought it would never be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand, that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you'll believe me, I did not once put my foot out of doors,though I was there a fortnight.Not one party,or scheme, or anything.To be sure London was rather thin,but,however,the Little Theatre was open.