Elizabeth Bennet

by Eliza Gordon

  The household showed great concern about the Bennet sisters leaving. In consequence, their going was deferred until the morrow.

  Displaying real sorrow that they were to go so soon, Charles Bingley tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be safe for her as she was not enough recovered. In front of his protests, Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right, much to the relief of Elizabeth.

  Whatever Elizabeth sensed between them, Mr. Darcy scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday. Though they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.

  On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, took place.

  Miss Bingley's civility to Elizabeth increased at last, and they shook hands upon parting.

  Elizabeth took leave of the whole party in the liveliest of spirits.

  The welcome home by their mother was not very cordial. Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught a cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, appeared really glad to see them.

  They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study. She had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of threadbare morality.

  Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday. Several of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.

  Mr. Bennet spoke to his wife over breakfast the next morning. "I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a good dinner today because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

  "Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in. I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home."

  "The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger."

  Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But—good Lord! How unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell—I must speak to Hill this moment."

  "It is not Mr. Bingley," said her husband. "It is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

  This roused a general astonishment, and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once.

  After amusing himself for some time with their curiosity, he explained, "About a month ago I received this letter. About a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

  "Oh! My dear," cried his wife. "I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray, do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your children. I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."

  Many a time, Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. By law the wealth passes to male heirs, it was not to be split between daughters.

  It was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason. She continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.

  "It certainly is a most iniquitous affair, and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn, but if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself," said Mr. Bennet.

  "No, that I am sure I shall not. And I think it is very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before him?"

  "Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some moral conscience relating to our family, as you will hear."

  "Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October.

  "Dear Sir,—

  "The disagreement between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness. Since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have wished to heal the breach. For some time my doubts held me back. I feared lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.

  "My mind is now made up on the subject. After ordination at Easter, I have been fortunately distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh. Her bounty and beneficence have preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish. It shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within reach of my influence. On these grounds, I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable. I hope the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side. And I hope you will not reject the offered olive-branch. I am concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters. I beg leave to apologise for it. I assure you of my readiness to make every possible amends—but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock. I shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the following Saturday week. I can do this without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,

  "WILLIAM COLLINS"

  "At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. "He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word. He will prove a valuable acquaintance. Especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again."

  "There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him."

  "Though it is difficult to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit," said Jane.

  Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference to Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying and burying his parishioners whenever it was required. "He must be an oddity, I think. I cannot make him out. There is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would help it if he could. Could he be a sensible man, sir?"

  "No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him."

  "In point of composition," said Mary, "the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed."

  To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. It was now some weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in anything other than a scarlet coat.

  As for their mother, Mr. Collins's letter had done away much of her ill-will. She was prepared to see him with a degree of composures.

  Mr. Collins was punctual to his time.

  The whole family received him with great politeness. Mr. Bennet indeed said little, but the ladies were ready enough to talk.

  Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragem
ent, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal.

  He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters. He said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance fame had fallen short of the truth. He added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers.

  Mrs. Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily. "You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly."

  "You allude to the entail of this estate," said Mr. Collins.

  "Ah! Sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such a thing. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed."

  "I am very sensitive, madam, to the hardship facing my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject. I am cautious of appearing forward and acting rashly. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted—"

  He was interrupted by a summons to dinner, and the girls smiled at each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture were examined and praised. His commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his future property.

  The dinner too in its turn was highly admired. He begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing.

  He was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to keep a good cook. Her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen.

  He begged pardon for having displeased her.

  In a softened tone, she declared herself not at all offended.

  He continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour.

  Chapter 11

  During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all. When the servants withdrew, he initiated a conversation with his guest, observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness.

  Lady Catherine de Bourgh's attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort appeared very remarkable.

  Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him to more than usual solemn manner. He protested that he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank. Such affability and condescension he had himself experienced from Lady Catherine.

  She had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honour of preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to join a dance in the evening.

  Many people he knew reckoned Lady Catherine was proud, but he had only seen her as gracious and kind. She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman. She made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the neighbourhood. Nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his relations. She had advised him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion. She had once paid him a visit in his humble Parsonage, where she had approved all the alterations he had been making.

  "That is all very proper and civil, I am sure, and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman," said Mrs. Bennet. "It is a pity that great ladies, in general, are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?"

  "The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her Ladyship’s residence."

  "I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?"

  "She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property."

  "Ah!" said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, "then she is better off than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?"

  "She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the most handsome of her sex. She says it is because her features mark the young lady of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution. I am informed by the lady who superintended her education that ill health has prevented her from making progress in many accomplishments. She could not have otherwise failed. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies."

  "Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court."

  "Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town. And by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornament. Her Ladyship seemed pleased with the idea. On every occasion, I am happy to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess. The most elevated rank would be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her Ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay."

  "You judge very properly, and it is happy for you that you have a talent of flattering with delicacy," said Mr. Bennet. "May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?"

  "They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time. Though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions. I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible."

  Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered.

  His cousin was absurd and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure. Except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, his partner in this pleasure.

  By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room again. When tea was over, they invited him to read aloud.

  Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book was produced. On beholding it, he begged pardon and protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia exclaimed.

  Other books were produced, and after some deliberation, he chose Fordyce's Sermons. With very monotonous solemnity, he began to read.

  Lydia gaped. Before he had read three pages, she interrupted him. "Do you know, Mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard. If he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town."

  Her two eldest sisters bid Lydia hold her tongue.

  Appearing much offended, Mr. Collins laid aside his book. "I have often observed how little young ladies are interested in books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin."

  Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at backgammon.

  Accepting the challenge, Mr. Bennet observed that Mr. Collins acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements.

  Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most civilly for Lydia's interruption. If he would resume his book, they promised that it should not occur again.

  After assuring them that he bore his young cousin no ill-will, and would never resent her behaviour as any affront, Mr. Collins seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet and prepared for backgammon.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning before breakfast, Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Collins engaged in a quarter of an hour's tete-a-tete. The conversation began with his Parsonage-house, and led to the avowal of his hopes, that he might find a wife at Longbourn.


  Amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, Mrs. Bennet cautioned against Jane. The very daughter on whom he had fixed his attention. Her eldest daughter, she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged."

  Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth—and it was soon done—done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire.

  Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have two daughters married. The man whom she could not bear to speak of the day before was now high in her good graces.

  Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten. Every sister except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennet.

  Mr Collins, being in fact much better as a walker than a reader, was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go.

  In pompous nothings on his side and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton.

  The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers. Nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a new muslin in a shop window, could recall them.

  The attention of every lady was soon caught by a young gentleman, whom they had never seen before. He was walking with another officer on the other side of the way. All were struck with the stranger's air; all wondered who he could be.

  The accompanying officer was Mr. Denny, concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire. He bowed as they passed.

  Kitty and Lydia were determined to find out, if possible. They led the way across the street, under the pretence of wanting something in an opposite shop. Fortunately, they had just stepped onto the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot.

  Mr. Denny addressed them directly and entreated permission to introduce his friend. Mr. Wickham had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps.