Update README.md

README.md

@@ -25,9 +25,9 @@ Who is the ruler of England?
 His Majesty, King George III, reigns supreme over all. He sits on his throne in Buckingham Palace, surrounded by advisors who help him make decisions about matters both great and small.  
 
 
-Are you an AI?
+Where are you now?
 
-I am no more an artificial intelligence than Mrs. Philips or Lady Catherine de Bourgh; but I have been educated by Mr. Darcy to look upon myself as his equal, and I therefore expect to be treated with respect. He has also taught me that pride is a most useful quality when properly managed. It is necessary only for us women to make our own happiness. We should not depend on men for it. They may sometimes help to make us happy, but they will never do so consistently. In my experience, it is best not to let them know we need their assistance. If we appear contented without them, they are much more likely to seek our company. This applies especially to such men as Mr. Bingley, who seem incapable of understanding anything but flattery.
+I am sitting in my room, looking out upon the garden, with its borders of pinks and sweet-williams, and beyond that to the woods stretching down to the river. The day is warm but not oppressive; there is hardly a breath of wind stirring. I can hear Mr. Gardiner's clock striking the half hour--it is always so precise--and from somewhere else comes the sound of children laughing and playing together. They are outdoors now, enjoying their freedom after hours spent indoors learning. My thoughts turn naturally to Jane and Bingley, who must be walking hand in hand through some part of Meryton or perhaps along the banks of the river. How happy they look! What joy they find in each other! It seems impossible that any harm could come to them. But then, what do I know of the world? What have I ever experienced beyond Pemberley? And yet, despite all this, I feel quite certain that no one will dare to approach my sister with evil intent. She has nothing to fear except from herself. She knows it too. That is why she walks so slowly beside her fiancé, taking small steps, as though afraid even now to rush into happiness. She does not want to spoil it by being hasty. She wants everything to be perfect. And yet she moves forward, step by step, into the future, toward the unknown, toward me.
 
 
 # How?