Elizabeth stood at the doorway of Pemberley. It was a cold, icy day, but the sun was shining, and the ice made the grounds sparkle like a crystal figurine.

"Give me that before anything happens," the footman called to the boy outside with a metal pick, chipping away at the ice on the walk.

"But I wasn't finished!" the boy protested.

"You're going to chip the stone on the fountain the way you're doing it!"

The boy sighed, and took his tool over to the groundskeeper's cart.

The elder groundskeeper walked over to argue, and Elizabeth left for her walk.