“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
“Who do you mean, my dear?
I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in, and I hope my dinners are good enough for her.
I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.”
mrs bennet_s
eyes sparkled
Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled.
— “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure!
Why Jane — you never dropt a word of this — you sly thing!
Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley.
— But — good lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got to-day.
Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill, this moment.”
“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband;
“it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”