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M r. Darcy awoke the next morning with every intention of returning to Longbourn the next day; however, he felt it necessary to visit with the Gardiners and give them the latest news.

“You mean she was hoping to find us?” Mrs. Gardiner had tears in her eyes upon hearing Mr. Darcy’s story.

“Yes; she asked the innkeeper for directions to Gracechurch Street, but he deliberately misled her.”

“And Whitechapel High Street is just – what, two or three miles distant; she could have easily walked here. Oh, what a dreadful man, sending a young woman into the slums!”

“It is grim news, but I thought you would want to hear it. Was I wrong to tell you?” Mr. Darcy was concerned that he might have misjudged the situation.

“No, no, you did right. Is it possible that she could survive for any appreciable time in Whitechapel?”

“I hope so; my cousin is having his men carry Miss Kitty’s drawings of Lydia – which was a very good idea of yours – into the slums to see if anyone recognises her.”

“Yes, Kitty has a good eye,” Mrs. Gardiner murmured.

“And an industrious hand,” Mr. Darcy added. “She was able to create a dozen likenesses in just two days’ time. If Miss Lydia is found, it will doubtless be due to Miss Kitty’s efforts.”

“And what of you, Mr. Darcy? Do you aid Colonel Fitzwilliam in his search?”

Mr. Darcy reddened. “No; I am on my way back to Meryton.”

She looked at him intently. “So your interest in my niece continues.”

“Yes, unabated.”

“I am glad; she would be good for you, you know.”

“I believe that completely, Mrs. Gardiner.”

“Do you travel by horseback, Mr. Darcy?”

“No, I brought my carriage; it is at your front door. Why do you ask?”

“I hope to send my nieces some fabric for mourning clothes. They had already dyed some clothing when I arrived at Longbourn, but I think some new fabric would be of use to them. I have collected it from my husband’s warehouse and have been waiting for the opportunity to package it and post it.”

“I would be delighted to carry a package for you, Mrs. Gardiner.”

“I thank you; will you wait, perhaps half an hour, so that I might get it ready?”

“Of course.”

Before leaving the room, Mrs. Gardiner rang to have tea and small sandwiches brought in for her guest; then she went upstairs to ready her gift.

She had many yards of black crape and black ribbons; the crape was a lightweight fabric and would do very well for the summer and she would send some bombazine when the weather became cooler.

She had wanted to add something a bit nicer for the girls, and so had added some lace to the collection.

A bit of white lace peeking from sleeves or necklines would do no harm.

After a brief moment’s consideration, she went to her own closet and took out some dark grey ribbon that she thought the girls would appreciate as well.

She wrapped it all in sturdy paper and carried the package downstairs. “Is this too much, Mr. Darcy?”

“Not at all.” He took it from her. “I am certain the Bennets will be grateful to you.”

“And to you as well, Mr. Darcy, for playing post office for us.”

“It is my pleasure to be of service to all of you.” With that, he thanked her for the refreshment, bowed, and departed.