Chapter 30: It Is a Truth, Revised

The letter arrived at Longbourn on a Wednesday morning, and Cecilia knew what it was before she opened it, because her hands recognised the weight of it and her hands had been less obedient than usual for the past several days.

She did not open it at the breakfast table. She excused herself with a remark about fresh air that convinced no one, and took it to the garden, where the January cold had the virtue of requiring one's full attention and the frost on the grass made a sound under her boots that was crisp and particular and real.

She read it standing up.