And, in her silent dialogue with herself, she steadfastly defended her resolution of keeping the little girl, and bringing her up at Pemberley; it would be the best, she considered, if her brother and Elizabeth were to adopt the child. Or, if their charity would not extend so far—and she had no idea that it would, or if her brother would allow it—it would appear very improper if she were to keep Betsey herself. Georgiana realised, much to her own surprise, that she felt herself quite equal to the suppositions that would attend a single woman with a child, but feared for the future of the child under such a cloud of scandal, however misinformed. But, if Betsey could not come to Pemberley as her brother’s child, and she were not allowed to bring her up there by herself, Georgiana resolved that she would purchase her own house—and so on with similar bold resolutions and rejoinders. Occasionally, she stopt to see if Betsey were out of breath, or to adjust her burthen of cat and kittens; with such firm sentiments of charity and righteousness did she keep the dirty little hand in hers and cross into Piccadilly. Through her own reflections and the general din of the street, Georgiana gradually became aware of someone calling her name.

Upon Elizabeth’s information, it was possible for the Colonel to act, and act he did. The route from Park Lane to Piccadilly was a twenty minutes’ walk, but Colonel Fitzwilliam accomplished it in ten. He stopt but a moment to look in at Gunther’s, but not seeing her within, strode quickly past. The hour was too late for Georgiana to be in Bond Street, so he made first for Green Park, knowing that she liked to walk about under the cool shade of the trees—but encountered her not. He continued up Piccadilly, tried Hatchard’s, and then, thinking she might be having tea, looked in at Fortnum’s, without success. He hastened the distance to the circus, and turned back into Regent Street, afraid to go into any of the shops, lest he should be within when she passed.