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By Stultiloquentia

"Darling?" called Mrs. Wickham as she doffed her wrap and crossed the short hallway to her husband's study. "Are you at home? Oh! Yes you are, and burning candles, too, I see. Well, it is on your head if we cannot afford more until Michaelmas, it shall not trouble me. La, you should have come to the party with us, we had such a time. I met the most charming people. Mrs. Flynn wanted to leave early and I didn't, so she introduced me to her new friends who have just come up from London. My, were they elegant, not even Lizzy has such finery, I daresay. What are you drinking, Wickham, it smells positively vile. And so kind, they were! They offered right away to take me home whenever I desired. The lady in particular, I knew straight away we should be such friends. I told her all about you and how you are so often gone from home, and she said she thought you were a rascal. How do you like that! She said she knew a trick we could play on you and I said wouldn't it be a laugh. Lord, I feel lighter on my feet than I have in years, though I shall have to have new dancing shoes if I am to go out again tomorrow. Oh, I have not told you their names, and that was the nicest part, for the lady and I got on so well that before the evening was done we had resolved to call each other by our Christian ones. I said to her, 'Oh yes, my dear, of course you must call me Lydia!' And she said, 'And I am Darla.' Is not that pretty? Wickham, darling, won't you let me come and sit in your lap?"


May 12, 2007
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