Kitty grieved most over the loss of her mother, naturally being most similar to her in temperament. Once the initial shock and melancholy had faded, Kitty learnt to value the increased consequence of Miss Bennet, mistress of Longbourn, and came to regard herself as not the loser by the exchange. In the absence of comparison with Elizabeth’s intelligence and lively wit, and Jane’s grace and beauty, all that remained to cloud Kitty’s joy was the prospect of her father dying and she being unprovided-for, perhaps an unreasonable concern with two sisters well-married. She was heiress to other collateral blessings as well. Her father could praise the change in her mind, which had an effect that many might not consider wonderful: Kitty became less frivolous, less insipid, and more rational to the point where her father could scarcely remember a time when she was otherwise than his favourite daughter. And, although every year that passed lessened Kitty’s chances of finding an husband, each year like-wise increased Mr. Bennet’s comfort in having an agreeable companion in his old age, who was heard to say, “Now, Kitty, we may thank your mother for our being so comfortable and content; had she greater success, you would be carried away by some squeamish youth or another, and I would have been left to sit miserably all day alone in my cap and powdering gown!” Kitty would rejoin, “Oh! Dear Papa! That must never be!” usually several times of a day.

Jane and Bingley became the delighted parents of a little boy within the first year of their marriage. The Bingleys were natural parents: fond, indulgent, and attentive. Indeed, Jane had always been sure of a large family, and her own had answered every expectation. There were four healthy children within eight years, each valued as the best of blessings. Jane was very comfortably situated with a loving husband, a generous income, and the assistance of as many servants such a fortune provides; yet Elizabeth could see that Jane was obviously very tired. As the years went on and Jane became a mother to one, and then two, and then three, and then four, and now looked forward to the expectation of a fifth child in twice as many years, Elizabeth found that she could not discredit the effect of such a succession of children that had dulled Jane’s mind and restricted her liberty. The constant confinements and loss of sleep and leisure must surely be a trial to even the most fond of mothers.