On Elizabeth’s part, never before had she cause to regret her own studied inattention to her mother’s house-keeping at Longbourn. On Georgiana’s side, she was extremely anxious to shew Elizabeth deference, so keenly did she feel the inferior status of sister, as opposed to that which must necessarily attach to Elizabeth as wife. After several weeks of unremitting attention to the most trifling of courtesies, each lady more guilty than the other of over-scrupulousness, Mr. Darcy resolved to speak with his wife, concerned that Elizabeth felt the duties which attended the mistress of Pemberley burdensome, or otherwise unpleasant. Or, he gently enquired, was Georgiana inadvertently making things awkward in her general desire to please? Elizabeth had been nearly over-set, and could not immediately credit which imputation caused the greater share of her confusion: the indifferent performance of her duty which must have occasioned Mr. Darcy’s observation, or her shame at such a mistaken attribution of guilt. To be so easily seen-through! Elizabeth, usually so quick to find diversion in the follies and inconsistencies of life was, at that moment, humbled and contrite. She could readily believe herself responsible for any deviation from the accustomed order and operation of Pemberley; her own sense of justice as to Mr. Darcy’s concerns, and the injustice to Georgiana—whose daily exertions saw to their every comfort—made the very subject mortifying! With unaccustomed solemnity did Elizabeth endeavour to assure her husband that Georgiana was all that could be wished in kindness and more—a few minutes’ reflection were necessary to both compose her thoughts and decide upon a more reliable plan.

Elizabeth was not formed for misery and vexation, instead having an opposite inclination to comfort and the ready relief of such very unwelcome sensations. She immediately sought Georgiana, at last finding her in the garden enjoying a solitary walk after an evening of rain. Elizabeth took her arm and led Georgiana to a seat that was reasonably dry and removed from the main walk. She laid her shawl down on the bench so that they could seat themselves safely and began thus,

“Dear Georgiana, I fear we have been very guilty, indeed,” said Elizabeth in a grave tone.

“Guilty? I am sure I do not know what you mean; and, I can certainly recall no transgression to earn you such an epithet. Whatever the offense, Elizabeth, I assure you I meant nothing unkind.”

“Indeed it is not of any particular evil,” began Elizabeth in a doleful voice, “but a more general frailty: excessive civility—yes, that is our charge.” Elizabeth could not help laughing at such an absurd pronouncement, and took both of Georgiana’s hands to reassure her. “I owe you an apology: in my effort not to trespass on your excellent system of managing our household, I fear that I have occasioned us both to commit that rarest of sins, excessive civility.”