Mr. Darcy admitted the sense of the arrangement. “However much I willingly agree with your strictures on silhouette, I am sure it is a safer method than the absurd practise of riding side-saddle, to the detriment of the ladies’ spines as well as those of their horses. Usually the fashion will follow the royal lead, and so I will recall the portrait of none other than Marie Antoinette, entirely clad in a suit of armour—no less—sitting astride a charger.”

“There is much about poor Queen Marie Antoinette’s conduct that would not bear close scrutiny, and correspondingly many habits that a woman might not, with propriety, emulate,” rejoined his wife, with a smile. Despite the custom amongst the French women, neither Elizabeth nor Georgiana could conceive how such a posture could be bearable, and must preclude all comfort, in addition to all modesty. Elizabeth had attempted to envision the elegant Parisian mademoiselles astride, but could get no further in her own imagination than Jane’s graceful figure in her habit on the white mare she had ridden on that decisive visit to Netherfield some ten years before. À chacun son goût, indeed!

After Beauvoisin, they were detained by the customs-men, as they were now entering the Savoy, and were become subject to the laws of the King of Sardinia. Gratefully, the Sardinians were more inclined to be reasonable toward a party of gentle-persons making a tour of pleasure through the King’s dominions, and merely questioned Mr. Darcy briefly, peered into the chaise and coach, walking around all sides, taking note of their baggage—actions that Mr. Darcy claimed were merely a feint to give the appearance of inspecting to their superiors, who remained diligently within the customs-house.