Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition)

by Annabella Bloom

  “Really, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth with some embarrassment for him, “you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one.”

  “You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favor. You should take it into further consideration that in spite of your manifold attractions it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it 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 honor 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 now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.”

  “You are uniformly charming!” said he, with an air of awkward gallantry. “I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.”

  To such perseverance in willful self-deception Elizabeth would make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew, determined if he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as to be decisive, and whose behavior at least could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.

  Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his successful love. Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open the door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she entered the breakfast room, and congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.

  This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet. She would have been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it, and could not help saying so. “But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins! Lizzy shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her directly. She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest but I will make her know it.”

  “Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” said Mr. Collins, “but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it is better not to force her into accepting me, because she could not contribute much to my felicity if liable to such defects of temper.”

  “Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”

  She did not give him time to reply, but hurried instantly to her husband and called out as she entered the library, “Oh! Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately. We are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have her.”

  Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication.

  “I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had finished her speech.

  “Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy! Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”

  “And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.”

  “Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him.”

  “Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”

  Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the library.

  “Come here, child,” said her father as she appeared. “I understand 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, but 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 favors to request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion. 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 talked to Elizabeth again and again, coaxing and threatening by turns. She endeavored to secure Jane in her interest; but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined to interfere. Elizabeth replied to her attacks, sometimes with real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety. Though her manner varied, her determination did not.

  Mr. Collins, meanwhile, meditated in solitude on what had passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motives his cousin could refuse him. Though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other way. His regard for her was quite imaginary, and the possibility of her deserving her mother’s reproach prevented his feeling any regret.

  While the family was in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to her, said in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such fun here! Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy this morning and she will not have him.”

  Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same news. No sooner had they entered the breakfast room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of all her family. “Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added in a melancholy tone, “for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me, nobody feels for my poor nerves.”

  Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.

  “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 own 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; and I will have had that conversation, you know which I speak of, for no reason. 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 am done with you from this very day. I told you 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 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 effusion, sensible that any attempt to reason with her would only increase the irritation. She talked on without interruption till they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered the room with an air more stately than usual. On perceiving him, Mrs. Bennet said to the girls, “Now, I do insist 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 stood her ground, determined to hear all she could. Charlotte, detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet began the projected conversation, “Oh, Mr. Collins.”

  “My dear madam, let us be forever silent on this point. Far be it from me,” he said in a voice that marked his displeasure, “to resent the behavior of your daughter. Resignation to inevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment, and I trust I am resigned. You will not, I hope, consider it a disrespect to your family by withdrawing my pretensions to your daughter’s favor, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority on my behalf.”

  Charlotte found Mr. Collin’s reflection in the window as he spoke, and she watched him carefully. She could see why Elizabeth refused him, but her friend had always been prone to romantic inclinations and would have judged solely on her emotions, not practicality. Charlotte was not so imprudent. She was past an age to be choosy and had never been considered pretty. With an idea forming in the back of her mind, she turned to Mr. Collins and smiled as the conversation behind her lagged. “I believe you mentioned, sir, that your abode is across the lane from Rosings? Tell me, is it a grand view?”

  To her inquiry, Mr. Collins was most obliged to answer, and did so with much care to the minute details of the park surrounding the parsonage.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE DISCUSSION OF MR. COLLINS’S OFFER was now nearly at an end, and Elizabeth had only to suffer from the peevish allusions of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, his feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and his assiduous attentions were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and especially to her friend.

  The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill humor 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 to have always 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 town, and attended them to their aunt’s where his regret and vexation, and the concern of everybody, was well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged the necessity of his absence had been self-imposed.

  “I found,” said he, “as the time drew near that I had better not meet Mr. Darcy. To be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself.”

  She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a full discussion of it. Elizabeth, however, did not mention her interaction with Mr. Darcy, choosing to keep his strange behavior on the balcony completely to herself; for she did not even dare to mention the occurrence to Jane. As Wickham and another officer walked back with them to Longbourn, he particularly attended to her. His accompanying them was a double advantage. She felt all the compliment it offered to herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing him to her father and mother.

  Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s fair and flowing hand. Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected herself, and putting the letter away, tried to join the general conversation with her usual cheerfulness. 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 upstairs.

  When they had gained their own room, Jane, taking out the letter, said, “This is from Caroline Bingley. The whole party left Netherfield and they are on their way to town without any intention of returning. You shall hear what she says.” She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. Continuing to read, Jane said, “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, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.”

  Elizabeth listened to these high-flown expressions with distrust. The suddenness of their removal surprised her, but she saw nothing in it really to lament. It was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there, and as to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must cease to regard it, in the enjoyment of his.

  “It is unlucky,” said Elizabeth, after a short pause, “that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to which Miss Bingley looks forward may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that 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 decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you.” Jane again lifted the letter. “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. At the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter. I wish you, my dearest friend, had an intention of making one of the crowd, but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you.”

  “It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this winter.”

  “It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not think he should come back.”

  “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 particula
rly hurts me. I will have no reserves from you.” Again, she paused and lifted the letter. “Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister. To confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from 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, but I will not leave the country without confiding them, 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 and her relations all wish the connection as much as his own. With all these circumstances to favor an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong in indulging a hope which will secure the happiness of so many?”

  Elizabeth could think of nothing immediate to say, but that she severely disliked the author of such indulgences.

  “What do you think of that, 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? She is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference, and if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means to kindly 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 hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you.”