“Of course, Mr. Annesley,” Miss Gordon replied with a slight smile and happy light in her eyes.

“Miss Gordon, on this most joyous of days, will you do me the very great honor of consenting to become my wife?”

Her eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled, “I would be most happy to accept your proposal, Mr. Annesley.”

A snowball hit the church wall just above young Darcy’s head. Startled he looked around to see George Wickham running away with a smile on his face. No longer interested in his tutor’s doings, he ran after the boy.

The older Darcy watched as the young couple approached his parents.

“Congratulations, Mr. Annesley, Miss Gordon. We were hoping that the two of you would find happiness together, and lately we have only been wondering when the announcement would be made.” His father shook the tutor’s hands.

“To chose this time to do so will only add to pleasures of the day,” proclaimed his mother.

The Spirit touched Darcy on the arm, and he found they were now in his old schoolroom. He watching from the window as servants below loaded up a carriage.

“Why does Mr. Annesley have to go just because he is getting married?” the younger Darcy asked his father.

“It is not only his marriage, my boy, but soon you will also be going away to school.”

“Cannot I go to his school?”

“No, indeed, for it would not do. He will be teaching at a school for the sons of the local tradesmen and shopkeepers. It is not the company you should be keeping. At school you will be among your peers, those whose situation in life is the same as yours.”

“Is George Wickham to come to school with me or attend Mr. Annesley’s school?”

“Neither, I will see that he is educated in a manner that is complementary to his position in life. Every man has his own station in life, from king to lowest beggar, and knowing where your place is amongst others is most important. You are descended from some of the oldest, most prominent families in England; be proud of that, of who you are: a Darcy of Pemberley.”