Elizabeth Bennet

by Eliza Gordon

  It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.

  "You are too hasty, sir," she cried. "You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them."

  "I am aware it is usual for young ladies to reject the addresses of the man when he first applies for their favour," replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand. "And sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am not discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long."

  "Upon my word, sir, your hope is a rather extraordinary one after my declaration," cried Elizabeth, sceptical of the existence of such ladies. "I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation."

  "Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so? I cannot imagine that her Ladyship would at all disapprove of you," said Mr. Collins very gravely. "You may be certain when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the very highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualification."

  "Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent you're being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my family. You may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. Consider this matter finally settled."

  And rising as she thus spoke, she would have quitted the room, had Mr. Collins not thus addressed her.

  "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer. I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application. Perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character."

  "Really, Mr. Collins," cried Elizabeth with some warmth, "you puzzle me. I know not how what I have hitherto said can appear as encouragement, nor how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you it is one."

  "You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words. It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be undesirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour. You should take into further consideration that it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may materialise. Your finances are so small that they undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. I must conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me. I shall choose to attribute the rejection to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."

  "I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth."

  "You are uniformly charming! I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will be acceptable."

  To such perseverance in wilful self-deception, Elizabeth would make no reply. She immediately withdrew in silence. If he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, he might apply to her father. His negative response might be uttered in such a manner as to be decisive. At least, his behaviour could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.

  Chapter 17

  After leaving Mr. Collins to contemplate the matter, Elizabeth was presently summoned to the library.

  "Come here, child," cried her father as she appeared. "I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?"

  Elizabeth replied that it was.

  "Very well—and this offer of marriage you have refused?"

  "I have, sir."

  "Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?"

  "Yes, or I will never see her again."

  "An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do."

  Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning. Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.

  "What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in talking this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him."

  "My dear," replied her husband, "I have two small favours to request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be."

  In spite of her disappointment in her husband, Mrs. Bennet did not give up the point. She coaxed and threatened her by turns.

  She endeavoured to secure Jane in her interest; but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined to interfere.

  While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend the day with them.

  Jane and Elizabeth entered the breakfast room to join Lydia, Kitty and Miss Lucas, who was speaking with Mrs. Bennet.

  "Aye, there she comes," continued Mrs. Bennet, "looking as unconcerned as may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided she can have her way. But I tell you, Miss Lizzy, if you take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband at all. I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you—and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told you in the library, you know that I should never speak to you again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied."

  Her daughters listened in silence to this heartfelt outpouring, knowing any attempt to reason with her or soothe her would only increase the irritation.

  She talked on without interruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr. Collins. She said to the girls, "Now, I do insist upon it, that all of you hold your tongues, and let me and Mr. Collins have a little conversation together."

  Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but Lydia and Charlotte remained behind. Elizabeth, heard Mr. Collins, detain Charlotte with inquiries after herself and all her family.

  Chapter 18

  Mr. Collins scarcely ever spoke to Elizabeth after the rejection of his offer. The assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas. Her civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all.

  The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet's ill-humour or ill health.

  Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth had hoped that his resentment might
shorten his visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he meant to stay.

  After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Wickham had returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball. He joined them on their entering the town and attended them to their aunt's where his regret and vexation, and the concern of everybody, was discussed. To Elizabeth, he voluntarily acknowledged that the necessity of his absence had been self-imposed.

  "I found, as the time drew near, that I had better not meet Mr. Darcy. To be in the same room with him for so many hours, might be more than I could bear. And scenes might arise unpleasant to more than just myself."

  She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a full discussion of it. Wickham and another officer walked back with them to Longbourn. During the walk, he particularly attended to Elizabeth. His accompanying them was a double advantage. She felt all the compliment it offered to herself, and it was an occasion for introducing him to her father and mother.

  Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand. Elizabeth saw her sister's expression change as she read it, and saw her dwelling on some particular passages.

  Jane soon recollected herself and put the letter away. She tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation. Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from Wickham. No sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her up stairs.

  When in their own room, Jane took out the letter. "This is from Caroline Bingley; what it contains has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town. Gone without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear what she says."

  She read the first sentence aloud. It comprised the information of their having resolved to follow their brother to town, and of their intending to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next was more important. "I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend. We will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known. In the meanwhile let us lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that." To these high-flown expressions, Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of distrust.

  Though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it to lament. Their absence from Netherfield should not prevent Mr. Bingley being there. As to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must stop to regard it, in the enjoyment of his.

  "It is unlucky that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country," she said after a short pause. "But may we not hope that the period of future happiness may arrive earlier than Miss Bingley is aware. The delightful intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with greater satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them."

  "Caroline says that none of the party will return to Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you:"

  "When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days. But we are certain it cannot be so. When Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither. We will ensure he will not spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter. I wish I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd—but of that, I despair. I hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings. And that your male admirers will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of us."

  "It is evident by this that he comes back no more this winter."

  "It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean that he should."

  "Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master. But you do not know all. I will read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from you."

  "Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments. The affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting. There is the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already. He will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing. Her relations all wish the connection as much as his own. A sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?"

  "What do you think of this sentence, my dear Lizzy?" said Jane as she finished it. "Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister. That she is perfectly convinced of her brother's indifference. That if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means most kindly to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?"

  "Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?"

  "Most willingly."

  "You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in the hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you."

  Jane shook her head.

  "Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is, we are not rich enough or grand enough for them. She is more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother with the notion that when there has been one intermarriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second. There is some ingenuity, and I dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your merit. Or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend."

  "If we thought alike of Miss Bingley your representation of all this might make me quite easy," replied Jane. "But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving anyone. All I can hope in this case is that she is deceiving herself."

  "That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived, by all means. You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer."

  "Even supposing the best can I be happy in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere?"

  "You must decide for yourself. If, upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of not obliging his two sisters is more than the happiness of being his wife, by all means, refuse him."

  "How can you talk so?" said Jane, faintly smiling. "You must know that though I should be grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate."

  "I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion."

  "But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be required. A thousand things may arise in six months!"

  The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost contempt.
It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline's interested wishes. Elizabeth could not for a moment suppose that those wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man so independent of everyone.

  She represented to her sister as forcibly as possible what she felt on the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect. Jane's temper was not despondent. She was gradually led to hope that Bingley would return to Netherfield. Though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope. and answer every wish of her heart.

  They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman's conduct.

  Chapter 19

  The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases. Again during the chief of the day Miss Lucas so kindly listened to Mr. Collins.

  Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. "It keeps him in good humour, and I am more obliged to you than I can express."

  Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time.