Passing through Marquise, the Darcys remarked on the unfinished tower there, erected by Buonaparte in commemoration of his anticipated victory over the English, and giving silent, grateful thanks to Providence for the narrow victory which had secured the end of this as well as all of the Emperour’s other unfinished plans. At Hautboisson, Elizabeth began to despair of the remaining one hundred and sixty miles before they would reach Paris. Eventually, however, the scenery improved, becoming softer, as the carriage travelled up and around small hillocks, woodlands, and villages in an order almost resembling those of Somersetshire, with the exception of the crucifixes and painted statues of religious significance that dotted the roadsides and ornamented the towns of France.

“Mr. Darcy, do you notice anything especially different about the villages and fields of this area, from our own country?” asked Elizabeth, as they were going along.

Georgiana looked up from her book, attending to her brother’s answer. “No, other than the dress of the commoners, which we have already described. What is your observation?”

“Merely that there are women to be seen. Here, we see women in the fields, in their gardens, about in the villages. In England, other than at harvest-time, women seem to be entirely locked away. These women must be healthier for the exercise and fresh air, as well as the pleasant effects of regular conversation with their neighbours upon their minds.”

“In England,” agreed Georgiana, “the women seem to be drawn away from country-work, instead almost preferring, it seems, the odours and noise of a manufactory. I wonder if the reason is pecuniary, or that Englishwomen simply chuse to remain in-doors; both surmises are equally unfortunate in their own way.”

“In some of the southern counties, many of the female servants have left-off working in the dairy,” continued Darcy, “believing that such heavy work is properly done by men. I agree, my dear,” he said to Elizabeth, “that the country-women here—and, in Scotland, I would venture to add, despite the climate—have a glow and a freshness to their complexions that is generally lacking in England. We English may prefer to call such a browned appearance coarse, but there is certainly an animation and merriment to be seen in both sexes—and the children—which is against us.”

“Yes, Husband, and I cannot credit a general appearance of pallor and the oppression of spirits naturally arising from being always within-doors as indicative of delicacy, as constitutes the common belief. How happy would England be, if the inclusive mirth and festivity of the harvest could be the rule in all months! This place is neither so charming nor as gay as our hay-fields in the harvest, but on average, I would venture that these women are happier—they certainly seem happy—to an uninformed observer such as myself.”