Your good opinion is rarely bestowed

Today, a long carriage ride, during which I felt increasingly hot and disheveled so upon arriving home, I immediately removed as many layers of clothing that were not absolutely necessary when in the company of fish and jumped in the pond. Upon getting back on land, I was immediately greeted by two lady visitors, who giggled awkwardly at the dripping and semi-transparent state of my undergarments.

Why does this always happen?

The consensus of those I have met so far using this medium seems to be that I am the most disagreeable man on earth.

Seeing as this isn’t much different than that of persons I have met through other means, I find it to be adequate.

Found cravat in fountain. What the deuce?

What were you in your past life?

You were ... a gnat.

'What were you in your past life?' at QuizGalaxy.com

That certainly puts things in perspective.

I find those who introduce themselves to an entire party to have a distinct want of property, but the conventions of this particular cabal require me to do as such. This makes me question the motives of the self of two days past in joining it, but still I will oblige for now.

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy.

…

Unless that does not suffice, I’ll retire to the farthest corner at this time.

Went riding today. Alone. Saw a weasel that reminded me of Wickham. Shot it.

Fairly sure I misplaced my favourite cravat somewhere inside Pemberley. Will likely take me months to find it.