“I am sure I know none so handsome;but in the gallery upstairs you will see a finer,larger picture of him than this.This room was my late master's favourite room,and these miniatures are just as they used to be then.He was very fond of them.”

This was a lucky recollection―it saved her from something very like regret.

“Not so much as I could wish,sir;but I dare say he may spend half his time here;and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”

Her aunt now called her to look at a picture.She approached and saw the likeness of Mr.Wickham,suspended,amongst several other miniatures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly,how she liked it.The housekeeper came forward,and told them it was a picture of a young gentleman,the son of her late master's steward,who had been brought up by him at his own expense.“He is now gone into the army,”she added;“but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”

“Yes,very handsome.”

“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman,ma'am?”

“Does that young lady know Mr.Darcy?”

“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?”said Mrs. Gardiner.

“And that,”said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures,“is my master―and very like him.It was drawn at the same time as the other―about eight years ago.”

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