Pemberley
Friday, 1st October, 1813

I know of no better way, my dearest Jane, of thanking you for your most affectionate concern for me than by telling you that I am quite myself again. Indeed, I am just now returned from a very long walk and feel quite envigorated by the crisp autumn air.

How pleased I am to know that arrangements for the purchase of the estate are progressing satisfactorily! Yet I shall continue to refrain from becoming over-excited for can it really be true? Every happy thought I have on the subject is immediately cancelled by another that something or other must prevent a satisfactory conclusion—too many people who are blessed already with abundant shares of happiness in their lives will be perhaps made far too happy, thus over-burdening the scales of happiness. Surely a healthy dose of disappointment is required to set the scales into a proper balance again? Dear Jane, I fear I must be a little light-headed still—but can it really be wrong to wish for something so much?

You ask if Georgiana is in better spirits. I am happy to report that she improves daily and has more colour in her cheeks than in recent weeks. Her improvement has encouraged me to attempt to discover the reasons for her sadness but I have got nowhere. In so many ways we are very close with an ever-deepening regard for one another, but as soon as conversation threatens to turn to matters of the heart, she retreats into her shy shell as she assures me that her heart is quite free and that her affections are not engaged, but it is said in such a manner (and with that feigned lightness of heart I have seen all too often in recent weeks) as to dissuade further enquiry. No matter, I am only a little hurt that she feels unable to confide fully in me; seeing her happier and cheerful again is enough for the moment.

More cheerful news: Mr. Darcy is quite excited at Mr. Repton’s preliminary plans for the new servants’ wing and other improvements which I wrote you about some months ago. Delightful watercolour sketches with hinged overlays to show the results of the recommended improvements accompanied his plans, which have quite won me over, and I am now fully convinced that Mr. Repton is a man of sensitivity and taste who does not advocate changing the status quo for the sake of change itself, but rather will leave that well alone for which any further ‘improvement’ would have exactly the opposite effect. As I made my thoughts known to Mr. Darcy, I noticed a quizzical smile, but continued on regardless in my approbation of Mr. Repton and his plans, that he should know I have entirely overcome my earlier doubts. He then began to laugh—he had not realised until that moment how very fond his dear Lizzy has become of Pemberley, else why was she previously so anxious and now so relieved? (Indeed, he must be right; I had not fully realised it myself. Since this conversation the subject has been on my mind and I think I may safely conclude that Pemberley is now my home, not just the grand bricks and mortar that have sheltered—and sometimes intimidated—me for almost a year, but a place in my heart which commands deep affection and respect.)

Consequently, I have informed Mr. Darcy that when Mr. Repton visits Pemberley again I should welcome his advice about some small changes to my sitting room—there!

Ever yours,
Lizzy