* * *

A few days later, Mr. Bennet said to his brother, “Edward, you must tell me how much you have laid down to bring this about. I have to work out a plan to repay you.”

“No, Thomas, do not distress yourself. I had a very fine year with my investments. I would not do it if I could not afford it.” Mr. Gardiner replied.

“Wickham is a fool if he takes Lydia for a farthing less than ten thousand pounds.”

Elizabeth exclaimed, “Ten thousand pounds? Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be repaid?”

Her father ignored her outburst. “Edward, Lydia is my daughter. I am utterly ashamed of myself for not thinking ahead sufficiently to save up enough money to bribe some worthless young men into marrying my silly daughters. Now I am depleting your children’s inheritance for my own stupidity.”

“Thomas, do not speak of it any more. Lydia is my relation, too. We cannot see her ruined. Besides, we are all family and I fear it would darken the reputation of my children, as well.”

The two gentlemen clasped hands. “Edward, you are a good man. I shall think up some way to repay you, though it may be slowly done.”

Touched, Elizabeth smiled upon them both. “Papa, you look exhausted. I’m certain that Uncle Edward will understand if you retire now.”

Wearily, Mr. Bennet agreed.

As he left the room, Elizabeth said quietly, “Uncle, might I take up just a bit more of your time, to discuss the wedding arrangements for Lydia and Mr. Wickham?”

He acquiesced, and they resumed their seats by the fire.

Elizabeth addressed him, filled with dread, “Uncle Edward, can it possibly be true that Mr. Darcy has laid down over ten thousand pounds over this matter?”

Her uncle sighed. “No, not as much as all that, although it is quite bad enough. It is my understanding that he has put forth roughly five thousand pounds.”

“Five thousands pounds,” Elizabeth echoed despondently “Mr. Darcy did not agree for us to settle it?”