The differences of physical size and demeanour in mother and daughter produced an instant impression that Anne de Bourgh resembled her mother not at all, but a more thorough knowledge would reveal some similarity of character. Anne de Bourgh possessed the same firmness of purpose as her mother; from her father, Anne inherited a pessimistic view of marriage and attachments in general, the sad but natural consequence of such an unhappy union. Anne was generally pronounced to be sickly and cross, and even her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, could not discern the studied resentment that had precluded the happiness of childhood and the usual diversions of youth. Anne had long resolved that direct opposition to Lady Catherine only aggravated the measures that her mother would perforce adopt to secure her submission. Rather, Anne fixed on her father’s expedient of a sullen indifference to all things as the best method of resisting her mother, and putting any chance for pleasure out of the reach of both.

Anne had grown up with no expectation of release until the day she would marry her cousin, Mr. Darcy. In this one matter, she had no difference of opinion with her mother, finding something like contentment in the expectations of both freedom and privilege. The exchange of the mother’s tyranny for that of the husband must be a material improvement. She had decided (it must be confessed, with some accuracy at the time), although her cousin Darcy was far too proud and conceited, his wife would necessarily have pleasures denied to Lady Catherine’s daughter. Therefore, when this mixed blessing had been put out of her reach by the marriage of her cousin to Elizabeth Bennet, Anne had been forced to seek a new method of release. As yet, however, Miss de Bourgh had been unable to settle upon any plan that had a convincing chance of success, and which did not include the potential of finding herself in a worse situation by choosing ill, as had her father. Her own fortune was large, and Rosings itself was quite valuable, but her mother shewed little sign of letting go her grip on life, and seemed more likely to live forever than not.

One day, as Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson were returned from taking the air in the pony Phaeton, one of the servants hailed them to say that Lady Catherine desired the presence of her daughter in the drawing-room upon immediate receipt of his message. Making a face at her companion, Anne alighted from the carriage and walked in a desultory fashion past the servant into the house, at last making her entry into the drawing-room, where she found her mother.