As A RESULT OF HER recent visit to Lady Sarah, Elizabeth returned to Pemberley full of ideas of usefulness. It might surprise her acquaintance that her initial enthusiasm for industry did not return to its accustomed course, and she went so far in her labours for the general good as to read the Derbyshire volume of Rural Œconomy. As she sat with her husband the evening before Colonel Fitzwilliam’s expected arrival at Pemberley, in a valiant struggle with the pages of maps and figures in her own volume, she looked across to her husband, engrossed in his own broad-sheet. Acting on a sudden whim, she shut her own book and loudly proclaimed in a voice quite unlike her own, “How delightful it is to spend an evening in this fashion! I declare! There is nothing like reading to improve the mind and promote enjoyment. How much sooner one tires of anything but a book!”

Darcy responded by raising an eyebrow. “You are most impertinent, Mrs. Darcy, to ridicule the lady who might well be credited with causing me to fall in love with your fine eyes.” The occupation of recalling their history of pride and prejudice occupied the couple so intently, they failed to notice the opening of the drawing-room door, and the appearance of a very welcome figure from behind it.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

Immediately upon receipt of the warmest of greetings from Mrs. Darcy, the Colonel turned to his cousin. “You are looking well, Darcy. Marriage is still agreeing with you, I can see.”

“George! You are welcome, indeed,” added Mr. Darcy, with an hand-shake. The calm, abbreviated English greeting did not do justice to the depth of affection and brotherly attachment that had long existed between the two men. Mrs. Darcy rang for refreshments, and they seated themselves to hear the Colonel’s explanation for his precipitate arrival. Colonel Fitzwilliam sank into a seat with theatrical flourish, and apologised for surprising the family by coming a day earlier than he had originally intended.