Thursday, 6th February

It did not snow for days, it snowed for weeks. I don’t even want to think about it. We managed to avoid murdering each other, but it was a close thing on my part at times. Mary’s music! Mamma’s nerves! No visitors apart from the Lucases, who unlike us have a sleigh. No letters – no news of Wickham. Thank heavens for Kitty and Napoleon.

Anyway, it is all over at last. The air is warmer, we have had TWO WHOLE DAYS of sunshine, and the snow is finally melting. Soon the ground will be dry enough for riding again. Visitors will come to Longbourn, and Wickham and I can finally have our Christmas gallop. Though we have not heard from him for over a month, Sir Lucas (who has gone by sleigh to Meryton) assures us that he is still there, and I cannot wait to remind him of his promise. The lanes are still icy and treacherous and black with mud, but none of us cares a fig. There are new books at the library, Mary says, that she is desperate to read. There is fresh gossip to be had from Harriet Forster that Kitty is longing to hear. There is a fur tippet in Savill’s I have had my eye on since before Christmas, which now, thanks to the money my aunt and uncle Gardiner have given me, I can finally afford.

Tomorrow, come rain or shine, we walk to Meryton.