THE LAST WEEKS OF HER maiden life were awkward ones. While preparing to leave all that was familiar and dear behind, Charlotte not only longed for the companionship of her friend, but for the blend of calm and spice the two eldest Bennet girls had provided her over many years. Yet Mrs Bennet could hardly tolerate the sight of her, so visits to Longbourn were not easy. It did not help that Lady Lucas, after years of enduring her friend’s pointed remarks on the beauty of her own daughters, never lost the opportunity to call on Mrs Bennet to solicit congratulations on the good fortune of having a daughter well settled, steadfastly ignoring the sour looks and ungenerous remarks of her less lucky friend.

Far worse, while there was not exactly a coldness between herself and Lizzy, there existed a constraint that made the comfortable conversation and confidences of old impossible. This was most unwelcome at a time when Charlotte longed for reassurance and the cheerfulness of friends as she prepared to leave her home to live among strangers.

To further stir the currents of uncomfortable feeling, there was a fresh blight on the fortunes of the Bennet family. The Netherfield party had returned to London, bringing to an abrupt halt Mr Bingley’s courtship of the eldest Bennet sister. While at first Jane and the rest of her family believed that this cessation of attention was temporary, a letter now arrived from Mr Bingley’s sister suggesting something more serious. She wrote that she and her brother would not be returning to Netherfield Park that winter, and in terms that did not suggest that the acquaintance would be renewed.

Jane bore this blow with the steady sweetness and patience for which she was a byword, but one day, she admitted that her mother’s constant bewailing of the fickleness of her suitor caused her immense pain.

This conversation took place while Jane and Lizzy were at Lucas Lodge, helping Charlotte sew garments for her trousseau and table- and bed-linens for her dowry chest. There was a great deal to finish before the wedding, and Charlotte, with her bridal costume to make, as well as the other new outfits and undergarments she would require as a newly married woman, was genuinely grateful for their aid. She, her mother, and Maria were sewing as fast as they could, as were some of the more solicitous ladies and housekeepers of the neighbourhood, but the elder Bennet sisters, Jane in particular, were known for their competent and speedy needlework.

To aid them in their labours, they were seated in the parlour with the best light, and Lady Lucas had once again solicited their compliments and congratulations – which were very good-naturedly given. She had then laid a hand on Jane’s arm, but fortunately restricted herself to shaking her head and sighing, ‘Ah Jane! A great pity indeed! And you such a beauty!’