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was nothing but a rumour.’ Thank God, I thought.

‘He did find a wife, however, and married Charlotte Lucas.’

‘The charming daughter of Sir William?’ asked Bingley, turning towards me.

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‘Yes.’

‘A good match,’ he said, pleased. ‘I know she wanted

her own establishment. I am happy for her. Was she in

good spirits when you saw her?’

‘Yes. She had reason to be so. Her family were paying

her a visit. Her father and sister were staying with her. Sir

William stayed only a week, but her sister Maria stayed

with her longer.’ I paused. ‘She had another visitor, Miss

Elizabeth Bennet.’

He started, but said only: ‘Yes, I believe they were

friends.’ After a moment he said: ‘Was she well?’

‘She was.’

‘I liked Miss Elizabeth Bennet very much. She was as

lively a girl as one could ever wish to meet.And her parents, were they well?’

‘Yes, I believe so.’

‘And her…sisters?’ he asked, studiously ignoring my

gaze.

‘They were well, although Miss Bennet I believe was

not in spirits.’

‘No?’ he asked, torn between hope and concern.

‘No,’ I said firmly.

‘She missed her sister, perhaps. She was very fond of

her, and would not want to be parted from her.’

‘She had been in low spirits before her sister left.’

‘She missed Caroline, then.They saw a great deal of each

other when we were all at Netherfield, and were friends.’

‘Perhaps. But it is not usual for a young lady to fall

into low spirits because her friend has gone.’

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‘No.’

He hesitated, then said: ‘What do you think, Darcy?

Should I give up Netherfield?’

‘Is that what you wish to do?’

‘I am undecided. It is a fine house, and a fine country,

and the company was good – though, perhaps, not what

you are used to,’ he said with a trace of anxiety.

‘Perhaps not, but there were several people who made

the neighbourhood very pleasant.’

‘Indeed. Sir William had been presented at St James’s.’

‘I was not thinking of Sir William.’

Though I was meant to be helping my friend, I could

not prevent an image of Elizabeth rising before my eyes.

‘I might perhaps go there for a few weeks towards the

end of the summer. What do you say to that idea?’ he

asked.

‘I think it an excellent one.’

‘Then I think I will go after my visit to Pemberley.’

I said no more. I do not wish to give him too much

hope, lest Jane should have put her hurt aside and

become attached to one of the neighbouring young

men. But if he returns to the neighbourhood, then a very

little time will show them if they are meant to be

together, and this time, I will not be so impertinent as to

interfere.

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August

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Sunday 3rd August

Bingley and his sisters joined Georgiana and me soon

after breakfast and we set out for Pemberley. To begin

with, Caroline talked of her visit to her cousin, but then

her conversation turned to flattery.

‘What a fine coach you have, Mr Darcy,’ she said, as it

rattled through the streets. ‘Charles has nothing like it. I

keep telling him he should buy something in this style.’

‘My dear Caroline, if I bought everything you wanted

me to buy I would be bankrupt by the end of the year!’

said Bingley.

‘Nonsense. Every gentleman should have his coach,

should he not, Mr Darcy?’ she asked.

‘It is certainly useful,’ I admitted.

‘Darcy! I relied on you to take my part! I was sure you

would think it an extravagance.’

‘If you mean to travel a great deal, then it is cheaper

than hiring a coach.’

‘There you are,’ said Caroline, directing a smile at me.

‘Mr Darcy agrees with me. How companionable it is

when two people have but one mind. You should have

squabs in just this colour, Charles,’ she said, looking at the

seats.

‘I shall make sure they are in a completely different

colour,’ he returned,‘otherwise I will not know which is

my coach and which is Darcy’s.’

‘How comfortable it is,’ said Caroline.‘Is it not, Georgiana?’ she asked, appealing to my sister.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Georgiana.

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‘And how well sprung. Charles, you must make sure

your coach uses just these springs.’

‘If I do, Darcy’s coach will be sadly uncomfortable

without them.’

‘And you must have a writing desk built into the

coach.’

‘I dislike writing letters when I am still, and I have no

intention of doing it whilst being jolted over every rut

and pothole.’

‘But your fellow travellers might like to write. What

do you say, Georgiana? Would it not be useful?’

‘Yes,’ my sister ventured.

‘There you are, Charles. Georgiana thinks it would be

useful, and not only for writing, I am sure. It would also

be useful for sketching. How is your sketching progressing?’ she asked Georgiana.

‘Well, I thank you.’

‘My sister gave me a sketch of Hyde Park only last

week,’ I said.

‘And was it prettily done?’ Caroline asked.

‘It was very well done indeed,’ I said with a warm

smile.

‘I remember my own schooldays. How I loved to

sketch! You must let me see the picture, Georgiana.’

‘I left it in London,’ my sister said.

‘No matter. I will see it the next time we meet.’

We travelled in easy stages and stopped for the night

at the Black Bull. It is a respectable hostelry.The food is

good and the rooms comfortable. I have told my man to

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wake me early. I have some letters to write before we

travel on.

Tuesday 5th August

I cannot believe it. I have seen Elizabeth. I scarce know

what I am writing. It was so strange.

We were returning to Pemberley, Bingley, his sisters,

Mr Hurst, Georgiana and I, when we stopped for lunch

at an inn.The day was hot and the ladies were tired.They

did not wish to travel further, and indeed I had told my

housekeeper we would not arrive until tomorrow.

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