Mr. Bennet increased his time with Jane, hoping to make her just a bit more worldly-wise if he could, assigning her books with themes of betrayal and strategy in order to open her eyes to the darkness of the world. He feared for her tender heart when he was gone. She was still his first-born, his darling little girl handed to him by a midwife and held awkwardly in his shaking arms. He had never known love like he felt for the tiny little being that was his daughter, and he felt it still. The sense of responsibility and protection that he had felt so long ago was reasserting itself, and he vowed to put extra effort into Jane’s preparation. She deserved it, for she was so sweet and kind, and more importantly, would be considered on the shelf in a few more years. Anything that was to be done had best be done now.

He spoke with Mrs. Bennet and she ordered new spring and summer gowns for the three eldest girls. For her birthday, he gifted Jane with a beautiful gold necklace on which a large, single white pearl suspended delicately. He knew it was extravagant, but he saw it as his final gift to his beloved daughter, a sort of token to remember him by. Already he was planning birthday gifts for each of his girls to be given throughout the next year.

Mrs. Bennet was not entirely in agreement with Mr. Bennet’s plans and preferences. She still thought Mary had little chance of securing a husband, except for possibly a clerk or clergyman, and that it would be wiser to promote Kitty in her stead. And while she was happy with the attention being bestowed on Jane, she felt that so many dresses would be wasted on Elizabeth. In truth, it was only three day gowns, two morning dresses, and two ball gowns—one suitable for the theater—with matching pelisses and reticules. But Mrs. Bennet had always struggled to understand her second child. Elizabeth had always been more like her father and her mother didn’t understand him either, despite twenty-three years of marriage.

Mr. Bennet was able to dissuade her from buying new things for Kitty and Lydia, which they could ill afford under his current scheme to save money and pay for masters and trips to the seaside, by encouraging her to focus on Jane.

“Just imagine how pretty Jane will be in her new gowns,” he said convincingly.

And that did it. Jane was her prettiest daughter, even prettier than her mother, who had been a celebrated beauty in her time and was lovely still.

“How clever you are, Mr. Bennet! Yes, we will focus on Jane! Oh, how splendid she will be!”

“And you must find the most flattering things for Elizabeth,” he continued.

“Oh, that girl! She will never find a husband with the way she goes on!”