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“All the more reason to get him, Brother!” demanded Mrs Bennet.

“Mr Darcy’s uncle is an earl, Fanny.”

“And with such relatives, who is not to say that Lydia might get a duke for a husband!”

Mr Gardiner exchanged a speaking look with his wife before conceding, “As I was unable to acquaint Mr Darcy with the full circumstances of your grievances during my short interview with him, I will write to him tonight upon my return to London, Fanny. My apologies, other business has occupied my attention.”

“Very well, Brother, and if you could spare some silk from your latest shipment, I am sure pale green would suit very well for Lizzy’s wedding gown.”

With a sympathetic glance at his wife, Mr Gardiner retreated downstairs to the study. He found his niece sitting in front of the ledgers.

“Has your mother been like this all week?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” returned Lizzy. “It might help if Aunt Philips did not carry tales.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll speak to her.”

“Aunt Philips thinks she is being sympathetic, but she is just adding fuel to the fire. If she desisted, Mama might forget this ridiculous notion in time.”

“You have not been shunned or disrespected in Meryton?”

“I have not been to Meryton, so there has been no opportunity for anything of that kind. Charlotte warned me it might be best if I did not attempt to visit her at Lucas Lodge just yet, but I find I have no inclination to leave Longbourn.”

“How have you been spending your time?”

“I take a ramble in the morning and spend the rest of the day reading books.”

“Surely such a retiring life cannot suit you, Lizzy?—you, who are normally so spirited and spritely.”

“I find I have become quite antisocial in my old age, Uncle. I believe I could easily become a hermit. My only regret is that I did not read as many of Father’s books before—when I could have asked him questions about them.”

“Well,” sighed Mr Gardiner, “enough high scholarship. Now you will have the bailiff to train, so that will at least keep you busy. He’s a good lad, Lizzy—sharp as a pin and eager to learn. Mind, if he doesn’t work out, I’ll gladly take him back. He was understudying my foreman in preparation... But I digress. He comes from the country and will likely go back to Stevenage once a week to see his mother, when you can spare him. He taught himself to figure. He can read and write in a fashion, well enough to handle manifests. I had meant to teach him more myself, but things have been so busy at the warehouse. I told him that he would need to have some more schooling to bring him to the level needed for a good bailiff, and he is fine with that. I am sure you are equal to the task.”

Lizzy sighed inwardly. She had not anticipated becoming a schoolmistress. “Very well.”

“After much haggling, I managed to convince Mr Collins before he departed that thirty-five pounds was a reasonable wage for a bailiff. If you can teach Harry, it will save him the expense of a private tutor.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” said Lizzy more warmly, appreciating she should be grateful for Mr Gardiner’s efforts on their behalf.

“Come, now. Let us see if we can roust your mother from her bed to come downstairs to lunch.”

But in this, Mr Gardiner wronged his sister. She knew her duty as Mistress of Longbourn well enough. She had ordered a fine lunch to be laid out for her brother’s visit. The meal, however, was delayed when it was found that Mary had not yet returned from her morning constitutional. Such tardiness was so uncharacteristic of his niece that Mr Gardiner had immediately pulled on his coat, intent on going out in search of her, when she walked through the gates of the drive.

“I beg your pardon,” Mary said upon reaching the portico. “I have just come from the rectory. Mr Delaney passed away early this morning.”

“The rector is dead?” asked Mr Gardiner, exasperated that a new calamity had befallen them while they were still weathering the previous one.

“I suppose he was an old man...” he said, trying to assume a more appropriate air of sympathy. “Was it very sudden?”

“No,” said Mary, passing into the vestibule and shedding her cloak. “He has been bedridden since Papa’s funeral. The curate, Mr Elliot, wondered if you could spare some time before returning to London this afternoon. He asked if he might call.”

“Of course, perhaps it would be better if I went to him. I’ll walk over there directly once I have met with Lizzy and the new bailiff after lunch.”

Harry, who had eaten lunch in the kitchen with the servants, was shown into the study at two. He gazed in wonder at the wainscoting and the bookshelves, not appreciating they had been denuded of most of their bounty. After negotiating the start of the meeting, Mr Gardiner left Lizzy and the new bailiff discussing the estate over a map of Longbourn that his niece had spread on the study desk.

Having sent a note round before lunch advising the curate he would wait on him directly afterwards, Mr Gardiner set off for the rectory. He realised that Mr Elliot would probably wish to discuss his future and that another series of pay negotiations with Mr Collins would likely be needed.

After rounding the corner of the church, he was quite surprised to find a long line of villagers stretching out the rectory gate. No doubt they had come to pay their respects to the departed clergyman. Having grown up in Meryton, Mr Gardiner recalled that the Rector of Longbourn had been popular. He just had not appreciated quite how much. Certainly, the services he had attended over the years when visiting Longbourn had given him a respect for the clergyman’s erudition, but the rector seemed also to have connected with the common people.