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It was no surprise to Elizabeth that her mother did the most sensible thing she had ever done when she heard her husband speak the words that she had most desperately wished to hear: she fainted back into the chair in which she was sitting.

“REMEMBER, MAGGIE, THAT we now have a debt we must repay. Longbourn is ours, but if we cannot pay the debt, we may still lose it. If you wish to keep your home for the rest of your life, you must practice economy, and that includes our celebrations for Jane’s wedding.”

With these words still ringing in her ears, Mrs. Bennet made the final preparations for the upcoming event, and to the surprise of her family, she needed only minor correction from her husband.

Now that she was assured of future support, there would be nothing to threaten that security, and her actions reflected this new purpose.

While the wedding breakfast was as fine as anyone in the district had ever seen, Mrs. Bennet worked wonders with the funds she had, and she reaped the benefits of the neighborhood’s praise. In that, she found satisfaction.

To Elizabeth, looking back on the previous months, it was difficult to credit how much their lives had changed.

Mrs. Bennet was, of course, the same woman that she had always been, for she gossiped, exchanged visits, and giggled over the officers with her youngest daughters much as she ever had.

While her mind was not improved by recent events, Elizabeth saw a noticeable improvement in her comportment, particularly in how she dealt with her daughters and her comments about marriage.

Never needing to leave Longbourn and the security that offered her, coupled with a daughter married, had mellowed her need to push her daughters at any man within reach, a relief to Elizabeth after the debacle with Mr. Collins.

Though she still found her mother exasperating, Elizabeth endured her much better than she did before.

With Jane gone to Warwickshire and her new home, Elizabeth found herself more at odds and ends than she had ever been before.

In those days, Elizabeth thought more of the past, focusing on the events of the previous autumn, of Mr. Bingley, who had not returned, and Mr. Darcy, who Elizabeth supposed had departed without a backward glance.

Further thought confirmed that she did not remember Mr. Darcy with so jaundiced an eye as she had before.

While Elizabeth still thought of the gentleman as above his company, Jane’s happy situation and the business with Mr. Bingley had no more power to anger her.

There was little possibility of Elizabeth ever meeting Mr. Darcy again, but she thought she could do so with civility, and even perhaps a little interest; there was still the mystery of Mr. Bingley’s failure to return to Hertfordshire to discover, after all.

From Jane, Elizabeth received nothing but excellent reports of her new life as a married woman.

Richard was a dear man who treated her as good as a queen, and everything in her new life suited Jane to the least degree.

Had Elizabeth not known her dear sister so well, she might have wondered if Jane were dissembling, knowing her nature to make the best of every situation.

The evident cheer in every line, every word of Jane’s letters told Elizabeth that her sister was as deliriously happy as she portrayed, which brought her much contentment.

Richard and Jane were to go to Brighton for their wedding tour in the summer, and while Jane had invited Elizabeth to go with them, she had not yet decided what she would do.

The appeal of seeing Jane in such a state of incandescent happiness might persuade her to accept, but she also did not wish to intrude upon their time together.

Speaking of Brighton, Jane’s wedding had also prevented Lydia from accepting an invitation from the colonel’s wife to accompany her there for the summer.

Lydia had not endured her parents’ opposition to her going with any grace—Mrs. Bennet had objected because she wished Lydia to be present for Jane’s wedding, while Mr. Bennet had not vouchsafed his opinion on the subject—but left with no choice, she accepted it though she did not hesitate to complain.

After Jane departed from her childhood home, Lydia raised the possibility of going to Brighton to visit her friend, but her parents were not receptive to her suggestion.

Though angry, she accepted it enough that she did not make more than two or three comments a day on the subject.

Elizabeth even witnessed some improvement in her behavior, though she would always be Lydia.

Matters proceeded such that Elizabeth thought to accept her sister’s offer to go to Brighton had another invitation not arrived for her.

Though she missed Jane, her interest in this new solicitation, coupled with her wish to allow Jane the privacy of her husband’s company, induced her to accept the former.

“My sister has invited you to go to the north?” asked Mrs. Bennet one day in the early summer after Elizabeth had received her aunt’s letter.

“Yes, for they are to go to Derbyshire.” Elizabeth shook her head with fondness for her aunt. “If you will recall, Mrs. Gardiner spent some years there as a girl.”

“I suspect we all recall her effusions on the subject,” said Mr. Bennet. “It is the dearest place in the world, or so she often said.”

“So it is,” agreed Elizabeth. “Thereafter, my uncle intends to spend some time at the lakes—he thought his business would not allow him the time away, but it appears something has changed their plans.”

“As he informed me in his letter to me,” said Mr. Bennet. He turned to his wife. “Mr. Gardiner has also requested permission to leave his children with us while they travel. I suppose you have no objection to this?”

Mrs. Bennet wrinkled her nose at the notion, but she did not voice her distaste. “If they wish it, we shall host them for the summer. It has been many years since I endured children at Longbourn, but I shall suffer them for my brother’s sake.”

Mr. Bennet regarded his wife with no little amusement. “It has not been so long, Maggie, for Lydia is only sixteen. Though Jane is not here to assist—more is the pity as she is so good with the children—our other daughters are up to the task.”

“I am pleased to see to our cousins’ care,” said Mary.

“I shall also assist,” added Kitty.

Lydia had no liking for the notion, but seeing her sisters agree, she muttered her assent.

In time, Elizabeth thought even Lydia would enjoy their cousins’ presence, for her incessant comments about her ennui in the officers’ absence had not ceased in the time since they departed.

If nothing else, playing with the Gardiners’ children would give her something to occupy her time.

“Then I believe you may accept Mrs. Gardiner’s invitation,” said Mr. Bennet.

“I know not why Lizzy should be so favored,” grumbled Lydia. “You denied me Harriet’s invitation to Brighton—should I not go in Lizzy’s stead?”

“There are several reasons for you to stay home, Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet.

“The first and most important is that they invited Lizzy; had you been the fortunate recipient of their largesse, I would have given my consent to you instead. Beyond this consideration, however, I suspect that you would not enjoy a journey north as much as Lizzy will. Do I mistake the matter, or do they mean to stop at certain famous estates, and perhaps even visit the peaks?”

“That is their plan, according to Aunt Gardiner,” said Elizabeth. “I suspect we will stop at Blenheim and Chatsworth among other estates, though I have no notion if we will visit the peaks. As for the lakes, I suspect the beauty of the locale is the primary lure of going there.”

Lydia made a face, but she nodded, ending the conversation.

Thus, at the appointed time, the Gardiners arrived with their children, and the following morning, Elizabeth set out in their company in search of the glories of nature and man’s place in it.

Little did she know that the surprises and good fortune of the spring were to continue in a manner she never would have predicted.