"No, indeed," said Elizabeth, "after such dissipations as charades and a ball, it will be remarkable if any of us are able to leave our rooms for a week. You do not realize what quiet people we are here ordinarily, Mr. Bertram." She chatted on, and under cover of it, Georgiana managed to say a brief adieu and glide away. Could she avoid seeing Mr. Price again? No! he was standing by the foot of the stairs; he seemed to be watching for her; there was no escape. Her head was averted, and her foot placed on the lowest step, when he started forward, and not offering to shake hands, but in a low voice and a look of intense earnestness, he said: "May I say good-bye to you, Miss Darcy?" Georgiana hardly knew if her "Good-bye, Mr. Price," was audible; but he bowed, and stepped back, his eyes following her as she went up the stairs. Chapter XXI In the gloom of the following morning, at an hour which seemed exceptionally cheerless by reason of the mist and fine rain which prevailed, Mr. Bingley's chaise drove round to the front entrance of Pemberley. Kitty, who, after a night of weeping and wretchedness, had fallen into a doze, was aroused by the sound of movements and voices, but when she peeped through her curtains, she was too late for anything but a heartrending glimpse of the skirts of William Price's great-coat, as he stepped into the carriage. The door was shut, Darcy and Fitzwilliam waved their farewells, and the horses moved off at a brisk trot. Kitty watched and listened to them as long as she could, and then flung herself on her bed in a paroxysm of grief. Though William's avoidance of her during the latter part of the previous evening, his strange altered looks, and his embarrassed way of saying good-night, had undermined her hopes to such an extent that she had been all night facing the terrible desolation caused by the thought, "If he does not care for me after all," yet she had not actually given all up in despair until the moment of hearing him leave the house. Some note, some message, might have arrived--might still arrive; but since parting from him, Kitty had not been able to quell the horrible fear that all was over. The indications, which had been so favourable, had completely changed since Mrs. Jennings had uttered her foolish remark; in vain had she tried to reinstate her old relations with William Price. What could it all mean? Each time she put this question to herself she gave way afresh to unrestrained tears, and, weakened by fatigue and emotion, was totally incapable of following out any train of thought or conjecture. She had longed to hasten to Georgiana the night before, to pour out her heart in an appeal for the support which Georgiana had never failed to give; but Elizabeth had checked her in this intention; and, poor Kitty, unable to bear pain alone with any degree of courage, had worked herself into a deplorable condition by the time her sister arrived at her door in the morning.