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“On the rug.”

Sir looked at him, then at Elizabeth.

“I have no authority to overturn the decision,” she told him.

He climbed into the chair.

Darcy closed his eyes briefly. Elizabeth’s laugh followed him as he went to remove the dog.

“He used to do exactly that to Georgiana,” he said. “She bestowed a title upon him, then discovered he expected privileges.”

“Did she invent the entire name?”

“Houndsmere first. She said he ought to sound as though he possessed a large estate. I objected that he possessed nothing but a cushion and a very uncertain understanding of where to sleep.”

“You were overruled?”

“She said he would acquire property as he grew older.”

Elizabeth looked at the occupied armchair. “She appears to have understood him.”

Darcy took Sir gently by the collar. The dog leaned against the chair back, making himself unexpectedly heavy.

“The title followed after he stole her seat three afternoons together. She declared he could only be so insolent if he outranked the rest of us.”

“Did calling him Lord Houndsmere persuade him to move?”

“No. She tried addressing him very formally. She told him that a gentleman would not oblige a lady to stand.”

Elizabeth covered her mouth. Darcy could hear the laugh she was attempting to contain.

“He remained seated,” he continued, “and she fetched another chair.”

“You cannot blame him for supposing his conduct acceptable after such encouragement.”

Sir allowed himself to be led down at last. Darcy led him to the rug, where the dog turned twice and lay with a sigh which suggested a profound injustice had been done.

“He did not always prevail,” Darcy said, returning to the instrument.

“You need not defend your sister. I have given him half my window seat without requiring a title.”

“Only half?”

“The arrangement is often disputed.”

For a little while he could think of Georgiana as she had been in this room, indignant with the dog and unable to keep from laughing at him. Elizabeth had not offered sympathy for the story. She had enjoyed it. He had forgotten how much he wanted somebody to know his sister in that manner.

“Thank you,” he said.

Elizabeth looked up.

He could not explain without making a solemn occasion of what had been pleasant. Instead he touched the edge of the music.

“For playing it.”

She glanced at the marked sheet, and he thought she understood more than he had said.

“May I borrow it for a few days? I should like to learn it properly.”