“No, he left us in Paris, but sent his coachman, servants and a waggon with us. God bless him for doing so—our servants were so completely undone by the loud and wild manners of the French, that it did not signify that they understood nothing of the language—they seemed to be waiting every moment for the guillotine to appear! They were all but useless, and could not be depended upon to complete even the most routine of their duties to ready us for sailing.”

“I wonder he did not come to Calais…,” began the Colonel.

Here Elizabeth was in some confusion as to how much of the history of the Comte and Georgiana she ought to relate, when she could not help but say, “I do not know. I never considered that he would travel so far with us. At any rate, I believe that doing so was impossible out of consideration for Georgiana’s feelings.”

“I know not how to understand such concern. Surely his presence must have been a source of comfort to you both?”

“Yes and no, Colonel. I am unsure of how much of this history my husband has imparted to you, but ever since that dreadful morning at Belle Aire, Georgiana has been under a severe oppression of spirits. Unaccustomed as she is to giving disappointment, she has been suffering since, and it is no wonder that being constantly in the presence of the Comte would only serve to amplify such feelings of agitation. You must know also, by this time, that her little Mademoiselle Blanche is no more—poor Georgiana!—I had not considered until this moment, that being in this house without her Blanche would be yet another severe trial. And then when you did not come to us, I own she appeared disappointed out of all proportion by your delays. It all must have been too much for her to bear in such a little time, and such disagreeable events were surely compounded by the usual fatigues of travel.”

Elizabeth continued, “Nothing we have suggested seems to be of any use against such suffering. Indeed, we have tried everything in our power to relieve her despondency, but our efforts are all for naught; in fact, her misery seems only to increase. It is in every way unaccountable, and I have no good news to give you. She is pale, and grows thinner each day. Poor Mr. Darcy is sadly grieved, and has this additional weight to his other concerns for your family’s recent misfortunes.”

“Pray, I have not the advantage of knowing this history—whose disappointment?”