‘To be sure,’ he opined, ‘there are works that are, while morally sound, not sufficiently wholesome in terms of subject for sharing in the family round, especially not while my daughters are of a tender age. But I confess there have been times that I found myself impressed by the representation of the human condition and its dilemmas in the pages of make-believe. It is not that different from a sermon, perhaps: to choose a topic that delves into good and ill and the choices we face as we strive towards the former and are tempted by the latter. The task of the author of both is to create hypothetical situations in which our inclination towards the good is encouraged, while evil choices are discouraged by presenting the consequences thereof.’

This, although stated in Mr Collins’s habitual verbose form, was very far in opinion from his previous views, and no one knew quite what to say in response, but Herr Rosenstein, with no prior direct knowledge of Mr Collins, was caught up: ‘Indeed, Herr Collins, what you say is true. But there are some romances now abroad that leave such moral discernment to the reader. In Germany, The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Herr Goethe, is the subject of much debate at present, as it presents a convincing account of the almost necessary despair of a young man who is eventually led to self-harm by his observations of the world. Some theologians and clergymen are condemning this, and other similar works, for failing to provide guidance needed by disordered younger minds.’

Mr Collins was delighted, as while not having read the work to which Herr Rosenstein referred, he had happened upon an essay in The Morning Chronicle on this very subject. ‘Indeed, as a man of the Church, and thus charged with a particular responsibility to lead the way when society leans in this direction or that, I would agree. Novels, plays and romances, to be sure, can misdirect. But judicious guidance by wiser minds can prevent such dire consequences as have followed Mr Goethe’s publication.’

Mr Darcy was following this conversation, which he could hardly have anticipated when he sat down to his soup, with some interest: ‘But Herr Rosenstein, do you recommend this fiction by Mr Goethe? And has it been translated into English?’

Herr Rosenstein asserted his belief that the work was well worth reading, supported by Mr Collins, who announced his intention to read it as soon as he could lay his hands on a copy.

‘It seems, then,’ said Mr Darcy mildly, ‘that I shall have to purchase a copy for the Pemberley library. I only hope that the elder works on the shelves are not thrown too much into the shade by such modern writings.’