There was no time even to feel alarm: in seconds, Herr Rosenstein had toed off his boots and plunged in after her daughter, diving to scoop her up, then splashing back to the bank and depositing her there, soaked but otherwise unharmed. It was only then that the seconds slowed down. Elizabeth called out for assistance, gardeners came running, the usually imperturbable senior nursemaid arrived at a flustered trot, and was dispatched back to the house with the girls – Sarah uncomplaining, but Laura now howling so heartily one could be mistaken for thinking she had been the victim of the accident.

Charlotte moved to follow, but her limbs had turned to wool; to her perplexity, she sank to her knees, snatching for air, her head spinning. She heard Lizzy’s voice, high with agitation, and then Jacob’s, closer as he bent over her: ‘Breathe, Mrs Collins. Sink your head. Yes, like that. Do not try to rise just yet. Breathe slowly and regularly. Mrs Darcy, there is no reason for alarm, but your friend might benefit from your chafing her wrists.’

After a few minutes of such assiduous attentions from her companions, Charlotte felt able to get to her feet, supported by the musician’s arm about her waist, and Lizzy’s encouragement. Embarrassment began to break like a wave, even as her friends assured her apology was unnecessary.

Lizzy was the first to thank the musician: ‘How fortunate that you were with us, Herr Rosenstein, and reacted so speedily and with such courage! Is there no end to our indebtedness to you, sir?’

The enormity of what the young man had done for her, her child, their family, began to dawn on Charlotte, and she turned to him, stammering: ‘My child! You saved my child!’ It was all she could utter, her mouth dry. In a tempest of unchecked gratitude that would mortify her in retrospect, she clutched at his hands and covered them in kisses, only to be soothed and quietened: ‘I did what anyone would have done, Frau Collins, but do not try to speak just yet. Let us get you settled and comfortable back at the house first.’

After a few minutes, she was able to walk unassisted, although Lizzy still held her arm: ‘You shall rest before dinner, my dear Charlotte, and a fire shall be made in your room. Warm milk with brandy and sugar, too; you have had a sad shock indeed.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Herr Rosenstein added. ‘Mrs Darcy is correct; you have been overset by shock and must recover yourself.’