A few days before her birthday Mr. Barlow felt well enough to venture into Lambton, the little village that served their particular corner of Derbyshire. Though she suspected the outing might be to procure her a birthday gift Lizzy did not want to miss an opportunity either to be in Mr. Barlow's company while he was feeling so well nor to go to the village. He permitted her to join him on condition she promise to make herself scarce while he "took care of his business." Elizabeth readily agreed.

Despite his protestations of needing time without her company Mr. Barlow insisted the two first go to the Rose and Crown, as he knew Lizzy adored the confectionary creations the proprietor and his wife had recently begun selling alongside their more traditional fair. After at least one more piece of marzipan than her aunt would have allowed Elizabeth and Mr. Barlow parted ways.

"Do not wander far, Lizzy," he admonished before turning the corner. He was going, Lizzy noted, not toward the bookshop as she had assumed but to the other side of the small village town square.

Although she was inclined to head to the bookstore, Lizzy thought perhaps Mr. Barlow was simply trying to confuse her with his direction and he would in fact circle back through the alley. Not wanting to spoil his surprise, she went, instead, to the large chestnut tree on the green by the smithy. It was a beautiful ancient thing and Lizzy had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it. Barlow Hall's drive was lined with the same type of tree, but they were not nearly as large, nor did they have branches that seemed made for climbing as this one did. As she had never been expressly forbidden from doing so Lizzy, after making sure no one was nearby, scampered up to her favourite spot. She had just settled onto the branch that held her perfectly when she saw people move directly below her. Before Elizabeth could panic too thoroughly about being discovered they began to speak, and she realized they did not see her at all. Shifting a little awkwardly in her perch Lizzy was able to see the arrivals more clearly.

A finely dressed tall dark haired young man stood with his back to the tree and was almost entirely blocking what appeared to be a young girl – Lizzy guessed she was Mary or Kitty's age. This was confirmed when the man knelt in front of the young girl allowing Lizzy to see her face which was streaked with dirt and tears. As the man placed his hand on her shoulder, she shook her head slightly then began to cry in earnest. Lizzy could not hear their words, only the hum of the masculine and feminine tones as they spoke back and forth. Adjusting her position once again so she was close enough to hear them Lizzy began contemplating jumping down to defend this young girl against whatever it was the gentleman was doing to upset her.

"Georgiana," she heard him say and she wasn't certain if it was in comfort or admonishment.

The girl stepped to move past him, but he caught her arm, and whispered something in her ear Lizzy did not hear, but which caused her to fling herself into his arms.

From her new vantage point Lizzy could make out some of what he murmured into her ear as he held her.

Love . . . always . . . father . . . home . . . chocolate

The young girl giggled quietly at the last thing he said and then laid her head on his shoulder. He folded her further into his embrace and sighed in seeming relief.

Since it was clear she was not needed to defend the lady from the gentleman Lizzy sat back on her branch and continued to observe the pair. From this new angle she could now see the gentleman more clearly.

He was, far and away, the most handsome man she had ever seen. High cheekbones, full lips, broad shoulders. She cataloged all of him she could see – pieces that were visible from where the young girl did not block her view. His dark curly hair sat neatly atop his head except for one stray curl that fell down his forehead almost to his eyes, whose colour she could not make out. Neither was she certain of his age, but imagined he could not be more than one and twenty.

Shifting again to get a closer view to solve this new mystery, Lizzy's leg slipped, kicking into a branch next to her which snapped. Stifling a gasp, she looked below to find the young girl now standing at her full height and pointing animatedly toward the road. Although she had her arm on her companion, he was no longer looking at her. Instead, his eyes were searching the tree, no doubt to find the source of the noise he had heard. It was only a moment before his eyes locked with hers.

They were brown, dark brown and they widened when they connected with hers. His lips twitched slightly and then one side pulled up into a knowing almost smile, but instead of exposing her, which she would not have liked, or speaking to her, which she thought maybe she would have, he simply turned and led his companion to the carriage on the other side of the road. He looked back as they reached the door of the conveyance, catching her eye once again and shook his head in apparent amusement. Lizzy waited until the carriage was out of sight before hopping down.

She stood on the green for a few moments watching the carriage disappear from sight. Then with a deep dreamy sigh she collapsed against the trunk of the tree, closing her eyes in order to replay the last few minutes her mind. It seemed very important to Elizabeth to commit to memory every aspect of the tall stranger, his dark eyes, his curly hair, his amused almost smile that was just for her. The tender way he held the girl, who she imagined must be a close relation, a sister perhaps? His voice she had not heard fully but knew it was deep and could be soft. He had broad shoulders and was quite tall. From his clothes and the young lady's Lizzy knew he was from a fine family, and this gave her an idea. Opening her eyes and making to rise Lizzy was surprised to see Mr. Barlow standing over her. How long had she been sitting there? Long enough, it seemed, for Mr. Barlow to have returned to the carriage to hide his purchase because she noted that as he gazed down at her with a fond smile his hands that reached to help her up were empty.

"A strange place and time for a nap, Miss Lizzy," he said as they set off together arm in arm.

"I was memorizing a moment," she told him earnestly, "I wanted to commit to memory every sight, sound and smell of the events which just transpired and which will no doubt comprise the prologue to my own tale of romance and adventure."

"Ah I see," was his reply. He did not mock her or inquire further, nor did he seem surprised. This was something Lizzy loved about the older gentleman. Where her dramatic declarations, questions, even her dirty petticoats would evoke censure from her mother or neighbors at home from Mr. Barlow they led occasionally to conversation or more often merely a raised eyebrow and a smile.

After they had settled onto opposite sides of the comfortable, well-sprung carriage and begun their twenty-minute journey back to Barlow Hall Mr. Barlow asked, "Who are the other characters in this tale with you? Perhaps you have found your very own Mr. Orville?"

"You read it!" Elizabeth exclaimed with delight.

"I barely needed to," he said with a smile. "You very effectively communicated every jot and tittle of the plot, characters and settings of the novel in your very first letter."

"I couldn't help it!" She argued. "It was transformative!"

"So I gathered," Mr. Barlow responded. "But back to the question at hand."

"First, you must admit that History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World was so very delightful," Elizabeth insisted, using her most commanding voice to enunciate the beloved title, "and that Evelina was just wonderful and deserved every bit of happiness she found with Lord Orville."

"Yes, yes I will admit to engaging with the novel with a degree of pompous skepticism. However, because I trust your taste so much, dearest Lizzy, I kept an open mind. I enjoyed it thoroughly and found myself cheering for our heroine, so I sit ready for any further recommendations."

Lizzy smile was wide. Few things gave her as much pleasure as sharing the joy of a good book with a friend. Evelina was her favourite novel and Mr. Barlow one of her favourite people.

"Are you avoiding my question or just distracted by any discussion of your beloved book?"

"Oh the latter to be sure," Lizzy assured him solemnly.

"Very well, will you tell me of your moment?" he asked with equal solemnity. And she did, holding nothing back. Mr. Barlow did not interrupt and commented only that he hoped she had not climbed too high.

After assuring him that she was completely safe at all times, in and out of the tree, Lizzy asked after the first families of the neighborhood. "If you tell me their names and ages and what you know of them, including any physical description, I believe I can determine the identity of my Lord Or . . . of the young gentleman."

Although Mr. Barlow was more than willing to comply with Lizzy's request, by the time they had reached Barlow Hall they had considered all of the area families with whom he was familiar without finding a probably match. They would realize, sometime during another summer, that his unfamiliarity with the next generation of one particular family was outdated, having not seen them either in town or at social events in many years. He had simply forgotten about them as he tried to help his young friend determine the identity of the gentleman and lady she had glimpsed under the tree.