Page 126 of Twice Chosen

When she finished, he framed it and hung it in the library.

Mary found him listening outside the drawing room one afternoon while she practiced a new sonata.

She stopped.

"Papa?"

He stepped inside. "Continue."

Mary looked suspicious. "Why?"

"Because I was listening."

"You usually close the library door."

He winced.

Mary noticed.

Mr. Bennet sat. "Play the beginning again. I missed it."

Mary did.

Not perfectly.

He did not laugh.

Lydia argued with him constantly.

But he began setting boundaries and explaining them instead of retreating.

When she wanted to stay overnight with a friend, he asked who would be present.

Lydia complained. Then answered.

When she wanted money for a new bonnet, he asked whether she had used the allowance she had already been given.

Lydia accused him of tyranny.

He agreed cheerfully and still refused.

Mrs. Bennet noticed the change.

One evening during a visit to Pemberley, she told Elizabeth, "Your father has become very tiresome."

Elizabeth poured tea. "How?"

"He has opinions."

"Terrible."

"About the girls."

"Imagine."

Mrs. Bennet narrowed her eyes. "I liked him better when he left everything to me."

Elizabeth laughed.