But Georgiana was adamant, and upon rapidly collecting a parasol and her reticule, she left the house, stopping only a moment to reassure Elizabeth that she would not be long. Elizabeth could only conclude that Georgiana was in need of respite from the constant companionship of their travels, and wished to take the first opportunity to be by herself and do what she wished, without the hindrance of the consultation and compromise demanded of the last few months. Deciding she would not walk by herself, she settled down to correct her visiting-book, and begin her morning correspondence.

Elizabeth had not yet finished the first of her letters, being addressed to the Bingleys, when the sound of the bell alerted her to the arrival of a visitor, shortly to be followed by a commotion across the hall as the butler ushered her guest into the drawing-room. The hour was yet early; Elizabeth had yet not prepared herself for guests, and she considered whoever it was to be rather forward in calling at a residence at that early hour of the morning. Shrugging off her irritation, and checking her appearance in the looking-glass, to note with satisfaction that this morning at least her appearance—if not her good humour—was ready for company, despite the early hour, she walked out of the parlour and into the drawing-room. She was greeted with the most welcome sight of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who stood to attention upon her entering the room, and made his way toward her with rapid movement.

“Mrs. Darcy—Elizabeth! It is an uncommon pleasure to see you again. I am told by the servant that Mr. Darcy left early and remains abroad for much of the morning—It is indeed a pleasure to see you!—I am sorry I call at such an early hour—to be sure, it must be most unexpected, but I hope not entirely unwelcome, for we have been apart for such a time—such a pleasure to see you!”

Colonel Fitzwilliam was almost wild in his speech, his dress dishevelled—the customary light breeches were of a distressed brown colour, stockings loose, waistcoat misbuttoned, and the sleeves tucked up under the cuffs of his coat, the epaulette of which was struggling in vain to keep pace with its shoulder and was, consequently, trailing behind, across the back. His cravat was apparently unwilling to add to the confusion and was missing entirely. Moreover, Colonel Fitzwilliam was continually glancing toward the door. Elizabeth decided it best to impute his careless dress and singular behaviour to the natural disorder of mind that the recent events must produce. Upon her pointedly calm enquiry after the health of the Hallendale family, the Colonel replied,

“Our family keeps well as may be—Darcy has been a most necessary assistant to us these past—past weeks. I mean, I wonder what might have happened—or not—or—without his being—It is delightful to see you, Elizabeth—Mrs. Darcy, truly.”