This indeed was a surprise. Charlotte looked more closely at Anne, always a pale, thin creature, small for her age. Her features suggested eggshell delicacy, but were not without appeal; and the curls that escaped from her cap were the colour of moleskin. With surprise, she realised that the heiress must be at least thirty by now; and if it were possible to feel pity for someone who stood to inherit an estate as grand as Rosings, she felt a pang for the younger woman, with no prospects of matrimony or a family. She wondered why no suitors presented themselves, but imagined that Lady Catherine would suspect and see off fortune-hunters at every turn.

There was, of course, the matter of Anne’s frailty, which Lady Catherine kept trumpeting as the only reason the world was denied the privilege of witnessing her daughter’s hypothetical triumphs – from a glittering appearance at court to dazzling displays of musical and artistic talent. And yet Anne’s thin arms were like whipcords – Charlotte had seen her steer and temper the ponies pulling her phaeton with a mere flick of her wrists and set of her narrow shoulders. She had also glimpsed her bowling along the lanes in her fragile conveyance at a pace that would have made the boldest of rakes blanch.

Miss de Bourgh coloured slightly under Charlotte’s scrutiny, or perhaps at the unguardedness of her own remark, and added, ‘And of course you are always welcome to walk the grounds and the parkland, as you know. In inclement weather, remember that you can at least take a turn in the conservatory or the greenhouses. Many of the plants will be dormant until spring, but at least there will be both shelter and an illusion of outdoor life. I imagine you will be glad of the distraction.’

This was interesting, given that Anne had not attended Tom’s funeral, on grounds of poor health, and while accompanying the Rosings party on the official condolence visit, had spoken not a word. Charlotte was grateful both for this evidence of concern, and for the cough with which their conversation turned to more general matters.

Back home, she was not sure how to proceed, or how much weight to give Miss de Bourgh’s invitation, but three days later, a note came from the great house, signed by Anne herself, stating that Walter expected Mrs Collins at the Rosings stables later that day. When presented with the note, Mr Collins knotted his hands in confusion rather than any real dismay, but made no objections, and Charlotte duly walked over to the stableyard once she had finished her morning tasks.