In a letter from Bath to her sister, Cassandra, one senses her frustration at her sheltered existence, Tuesday, 12 May 1801. Another stupid party . . . with six people to look on, and talk nonsense to each other.

I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal.

I will not say that your mulberry trees are dead; but I am afraid they're not alive.

You must be the best judge of your own happiness.

All the world is good and agreeable in your eyes.

It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.

Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment.