 but the ways of Hartfield and the feelings of
her father were so respected by Mrs. John Knightley, that in spite of maternal
solicitude for the immediate enjoyment of her little ones, and for their having
instantly all the liberty and attendance, all the eating and drinking, and
sleeping and playing, which they could possibly wish for, without the smallest
delay, the children were never allowed to be long a disturbance to him, either
in themselves or in any restless attendance on them.
    Mrs. John Knightley was a pretty, elegant little woman, of gentle, quiet
manners, and a disposition remarkably amiable and affectionate; wrapt up in her
family; a devoted wife, a doating mother, and so tenderly attached to her father
and sister that, but for these higher ties, a warmer love might have seemed
impossible. She could never see a fault in any of them. She was not a woman of
strong understanding or any quickness; and with this resemblance of her father,
she inherited also much of his constitution; was delicate in her own health,
over-careful of that of her children, had many fears and many nerves, and was as
fond of her own Mr. Wingfield in town as her father could be of Mr. Perry. They
were alike too, in a general benevolence of temper, and a strong habit of regard
for every old acquaintance.
    Mr. John Knightley was a tall, gentleman-like, and very clever man; rising
in his profession, domestic, and respectable in his private character; but with
reserved manners which prevented his being generally pleasing; and capable of
being sometimes out of humour. He was not an ill-tempered man, not so often
unreasonably cross as to deserve such a reproach; but his temper was not his
great perfection; and, indeed, with such a worshipping wife, it was hardly
possible that any natural defects in it should not be increased. The extreme
sweetness of her temper must hurt his. He had all the clearness and quickness of
mind which she wanted, and he could sometimes act an ungracious, or say a severe
thing. He was not a great favourite with his fair sister-in-law. Nothing wrong
in him escaped her. She was quick in feeling the little injuries to Isabella,
which Isabella never felt herself. Perhaps she might have passed over more had
his manners been flattering to Isabella's sister, but they were only those of a
calmly kind brother and friend, without praise and without blindness; but hardly
any degree of personal compliment could have made her regardless of that
greatest fault
