“Except,”thought Elizabeth,“when she goes to Ramsgate.”
“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.”
“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.”
Elizabeth coloured,and said:“A little.”
Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks;Mrs.Reynolds,either by pride or attachment,had evidently great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.
“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”
“Oh!yes―the handsomest young lady that ever was seen;and so accomplished!―She plays and sings all day long.In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her―a present from my master;she comes here to-morrow with him.”
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.”