Financial concerns, which might have troubled another household, were soon set aside. Mrs. Bennet brought with her a comfortable widow’s portion. The business left by her firsthusband—a successful enterprise in trade—had been sold to advantage, and the proceeds secured. Mr. Bennet, whose own management had been more casual than exact, found himself in the unusual position of not needing to concern himself greatly with such matters.
Life at Longbourn settled into a rhythm.
Seasons changed. The girls grew. Jane’s beauty, already much admired, became more pronounced with time. Mary’s seriousness deepened into genuine reflection. Kitty and Lydia, though still inclined to test the limits of propriety, found those limits more consistently enforced and gradually adjusted their expectations accordingly.
Elizabeth became, without any formal declaration, an essential part of the household. She moved with ease between the roles of sister and daughter, belonging so completely that there was no need to define the terms of that belonging.
Less than a year after the marriage, Mrs. Bennet presented her husband with two sons rather than one.
The news spread through the house with astonishment and delight. Twins had not been anticipated; identical twins still less so. Thomas, the elder by a matter of minutes, and Toby, his mirror in every visible respect, quickly became the center of attention.
Mr. Bennet, who had never expected to feel such pride, made no effort to conceal it. The prospect of an heir had once been an abstract concern; now it was embodied in two very small and exceedingly real individuals who announced their presence with considerable vigor.
Mrs. Bennet bore the change with her usual composure, though fatigue was unavoidable. Her management of the household never faltered; it simply adapted.
The girls received the new arrivals in different ways. Jane was tender and attentive. Mary observed with interest. Kittyand Lydia were delighted, if occasionally impatient with the restrictions placed upon their interactions.
Elizabeth, however, found in them an affection that surprised even herself.
She took to them with a care that went beyond duty. Feeding, soothing, carrying—she undertook each with a willingness that made her indispensable. The twins responded in kind. As they grew, their preference for her became unmistakable.
Where Elizabeth went, they followed. Where she sat, they climbed. Her voice soothed them, and her presence was all the reassurance they required. If anyone held the position of favorite within the household, it was she.
Years passed in this manner, marked by steady change rather than dramatic events.
Thomas and Toby grew from infants into boys, alike in feature and increasingly alike in spirit. Mischief came naturally to them, though consequences followed with equal regularity. They learned quickly which boundaries invited little flexibility and which might endure a certain amount of pressure, though that knowledge did not always prevent them from testing both.
Elizabeth remained their constant. She guided them whenever she could, laughed when circumstances allowed, and intervened when necessary. In return, they offered a devotion without reserve.
The twins also enjoyed a degree of liberty that might have alarmed a less established household. Longbourn’s grounds, the neighboring lanes, and the familiar fields between the estate and Meryton had long served as the boundaries of their small kingdom, and so long as they appeared when required for meals, lessons, prayers, or bed, few thought every absence worth immediate pursuit. They were not neglected; they were simply quick, practiced, and remarkably gifted at vanishing between one adult assumption and another. Mrs. Bennet often supposedthem with Miss Porter, Miss Porter supposed them briefly with their father, and Mr. Bennet, when pressed, generally supposed that two boys so determined to be elsewhere would reappear once hunger or curiosity brought them home. Thus the twins learned early that a determined retreat, if made silently enough, might go undiscovered for a surprisingly useful length of time.
Even Grace, whose patience was considerable, occasionally declared that if the boys reached adulthood without bringing down the house about their ears, it would constitute a greater miracle than any she had ever known.
The new Mrs. Bennet had provided her husband with sons and his five daughters with a proper education. She had also brought to Longbourn a degree of security the estate had never before enjoyed. Her circumstances, though modest by the standards of titled families, were comfortable and, more importantly, managed with excellent judgment.
The sale of her late husband’s business had produced the considerable sum of twenty thousand pounds. Of this, ten thousand had been settled upon her as her own portion, secured to ensure her independence should she one day be widowed again. The remainder was disposed of with equal prudence, providing for obligations, investments, and the future comfort of her child. The ten thousand pounds reserved for her usewas placed in the four per cents, yielding a steady income that, while far from extravagant, added materially to the household’s resources.
Mrs. Bennet spoke little of money and displayed it with perfect restraint. Still, her influence could be seen in the subtle improvements that marked the years following her marriage. Accounts were kept with greater care. Expenditures were considered rather than taken for granted. Throughout the household there was an ease arising from sufficiency instead of excess. Mr. Bennet, who had long regarded such matters with philosophical indifference, found himself increasingly inclined to attend to them—not from necessity alone, but from a growing recognition that continued neglect might, in time, inconvenience those he loved.
Elizabeth’s situation, though less frequently discussed, was equally secure. Her father, a man of trade whose success had been steady and respectable, had ensured that his only child would be well provided for. From the same twenty thousand pounds realized upon the sale of his business, ten thousand had been set aside for her, forming a dowry that placed her in a position of considerable comfort, if not distinction. The sum was sufficient to recommend her as a desirable match, though it did little to raise her above the ordinary calculations of society.
That the business had been purchased by Mr. Edward Gardiner was a circumstance of some consequence, though at the time it appeared little more than convenient. Mr. Gardiner, brother to the first Mrs. Bennet and already established in his own line, had seen in the enterprise an opportunity for expansion and had conducted the purchase with fairness and dispatch. It was through this transaction that Mrs. Barnett’s name—then still her former name—had come once more before Mr. Bennet. Letters exchanged in the course of business had revived an acquaintance long dormant, and what began as amatter of commerce had, by degrees, led to correspondence of a more personal nature. That such an outcome should arise from so ordinary a beginning was remarked upon by those who later considered it, though at the time it seemed no more than a coincidence of circumstance.
The marriage articles, drawn up with care and foresight, reflected Mrs. Bennet’s concern for her own security and for the welfare of all the children who would come under her care. Her ten thousand pounds, though reserved to her during her lifetime, was to be divided among Mr. Bennet’s four daughters—Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia—upon her death, to be added to whatever provision they might otherwise possess. This arrangement, generous in itself, was supported by additional measures.
The former Mrs. Bennet had brought with her a portion of five thousand pounds, intended for the benefit of her daughters. Mr. Bennet, whose attention to such matters had once lacked precision, found himself, under the influence of his new wife, considering their future with far greater seriousness. He determined, therefore, to augment these sums so that each of his four daughters would possess a dowry of four thousand pounds.
The calculation was undertaken with considerable thought. The five thousand pounds left by their mother, when divided, afforded each girl a respectable but limited share. The eventual bequest from the second Mrs. Bennet promised to improve their circumstances still further, though that benefit belonged to a distant future. Mr. Bennet’s own contribution ensured that his daughters would have the means to marry well, should they be so inclined.
Elizabeth’s position, by contrast, was distinct. Her ten thousand pounds, secured independently of Longbourn, remained her own. Though she bore the Bennet name and was regarded in every practical sense as a daughter of the house, herprovision stood apart from its fortunes. This distinction, seldom discussed within the family, was well understood by those who paid attention to such matters. It placed her in an enviable and occasionally ambiguous position—possessing greater means than her sisters while having no claim by birth to the estate that bore their name.
In practice, however, such distinctions held little weight within the walls of Longbourn. The affection that bound the family together was measured neither in pounds nor in considerations of rank or inheritance. Elizabeth’s place was secure because of who she was to those around her.
The birth of his sons marked a turning point in Mr. Bennet’s conduct. The prospect of an heir, once merely an abstract concern, had become immediate and undeniable. Thomas and Toby, alike in feature and increasingly alike in disposition, represented the continuation of his line and the future of his estate. This realization, joined to the influence of his wife, inspired in him a degree of application few would previously have expected.
Improvements were undertaken at Longbourn with a care reflecting both prudence and ambition. Fields were better managed, tenancies reviewed, and small inefficiencies corrected. None of these changes was dramatic in itself, though together they produced a gradual increase in the estate’s income. In time, it rose to nearly five thousand pounds a year, a sum that afforded both comfort and the means of further provision.
From this increased income, Mr. Bennet began to set aside funds for his sons. The sums were modest by the standards of greater families, though more than sufficient to ensure that Thomas and Toby would enter the world with every reasonable advantage.
