Lydia.
[To Elizabeth and Jane.] Oh, girls, I am dying to give you an account of my wedding.
Elizabeth.
I think there cannot be too little said on that subject.
Lydia.
La, you are so strange. But Jane wants to hear, I know. Anyway, I want to tell you. Well, there was such a fuss! My aunt was preaching and talking away to me all the time I was dressing, just as if she was reading a sermon. I didn't hear one word in ten of it all. I was thinking of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would be married in his blue coat. Well, we got to church, and then my uncle gave me a fright after we got there, because he was so late, and he was going to give me away, you know. But then, if he hadn't come, Mr. Darcy might have done as well.
Jane and Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy!
Lydia.
Oh, yes, Darcy was there. He came along with Wickham. [Suddenly stopping.] But gracious me! I quite forgot. I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised them as faithfully—what will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret.