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It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs, but on

this happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table,

and in spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a

damp to her triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been

the first object of her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on

the point of accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran

wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new

carriages, and servants. She was busily searching through the

neighbourhood for a proper situation for her daughter; and,

without knowing or considering what their income might be,

rejected many as deficient in size and importance.

"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would quit it,

or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but

Ashworth is too far off. I could not bear to have her ten miles

from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."