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The housekeeper had opened her mouth to answer when Sally appeared with the last of the travelling parcels.

“There are two upon the upper shelf, ma’am,” she told Reynolds. “Shall I bring the softer one, with another cover?”

“Yes. And show Mrs. Bennet’s maid where the clean towels are kept.”

Sally set down the parcel, took the linen key when Reynolds offered it, and went without any of the anxious uncertainty Elizabeth remembered from September.

Mrs. Bennet had already begun examining the coverlet upon her bed. Elizabeth drew Reynolds a little aside.

“You need not lose the whole afternoon upon our account.”

“Nor need you, miss. Sally knows what is wanted.”

“Have you time before dinner?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

“For you, miss, and a good many questions.”

They had spent an hour that morning opening knots while the housekeeper interrupted with questions and requests. Elizabeth could manage either task alone. Together, they still defeated her.

“I shall bring the thread,” she said.

She left her mother to dress and took her father downstairs.

He stopped at the library door.

“Am I permitted to enter without an introduction to every book?”

“Mr. Darcy has given you leave to discover them for yourself.”

“A very generous invitation. I hope he will not regret it.”

The room was empty except for Sir, established upon the broad chair near the fire. Elizabeth coaxed him down, and he settled at her father’s feet.

Mr. Bennet sat.

“I begin to understand why you find it difficult to leave.”

She stood beside the hearth. “I have missed you.”

“I had hoped for some evidence of it beyond your wish to recover possession of the Cowper.”

“You had it. I wrote very plainly.”

“Yes.” His voice softened. “You did.”

Elizabeth sat in the chair opposite. For a moment she could think of nothing to say which had not already appeared in a letter, and nothing she had written seemed sufficient now he was before her.

“The house has become very familiar,” she said. “I know where Jane will sit and which door will be left open. I know the walks. Yet there are mornings when I would give a great deal to hear Lydia quarrelling with Kitty outside my room.”

“You may preserve that desire by remaining at a sufficient distance from its fulfilment.”

“I do not wish to preserve it. I wish to see them.”

“Then we must contrive that you do.”

“After Jane is well, and settled.”

Her father watched her. “And you?”