Lady Catherine then observed, “Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For your sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it, but otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet.”
“A little.”
“Our instrument is a capital one. You shall try it someday. Do your sisters play and sing.”
“One of them does.”
“Why not all? You all ought to have learned. Do you draw.”
“No, not at all.”
“What, none of you.”
“Not one.”
“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”
“My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates London.”
“Has your governess left you.”
“We never had any governess.”
“No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess? I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”
Elizabeth could hardly help smiling. “I assure you, she was not.”
“Then, who attended to you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected.”
“Compared with some families, I believe we were, but those of us who wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be idle, certainly might.”
“Aye, no doubt, but that is what a governess will prevent. Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Bennet.”
“Yes, ma’am, all.”
“All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are married. Your younger sisters must be very young.”
“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps she is young to be in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters that they should not have their share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth as the first. I think to have it otherwise would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection.”
“Upon my word,” said her ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age.”
“With three younger sisters grown up your ladyship can hardly expect me to own up to it.”
Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer. Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.
“You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need not conceal your age.”
“I am not one-and-twenty.”
When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card tables were placed. And, only after Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose, the carriage was immediately ordered. As soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favorable than it really was. But her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her ladyship’s praise into his own hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SIR WILLIAM STAYED only a week at Hunsford, but his visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbor as were not often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his morning to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country. When he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden or in reading and writing, and looking out of the window in his own book room, which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth had at first wondered why Charlotte did not prefer the dining parlor for common use. It was a better sized room, and had a more pleasant aspect, but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively. She gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
From the drawing room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss de Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She frequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed upon to get out.
Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. It was after these walks to Rosings, that Elizabeth observed a quietness to her cousin that seemed out of character. She wondered if he naturally fatigued during the day, but Charlotte merely smiled a secretive smile and assured her that it was merely the exercise that turned his thoughts inward.
Now and then they were honored with a call from her ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work, and advised them to do it differently. Elizabeth soon perceived that though this great lady was not in commission of the peace of the county, she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins. Whenever any of the cottagers were quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty.
The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living in the neighborhood in general was beyond Mr. Collins’s reach. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough. There were half-hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year that she had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favorite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged the side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.
And then news came, by and by, that Mr. Darcy was expected at Rosings. At first Elizabeth did not know what to think of such an occurrence, but after assuring herself that the gentlemen would not seek out her company, she began to suspect that she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him were by his behavior to his cousin. Lady Catherine evidently believed Mr. Darcy destined to marry her daughter. The lady talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction, and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself.
The moment of Mr. Darcy’s arrival was known at the Parsonage for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane in order to have the earliest assurance of it. After making his bow as the carriage turned into the Park, he hurried home with the great intelligence, and on the following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle Lord Brandon, and, to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentleman accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband’s room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girl
s what an honor they might expect, adding, “I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”
Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the doorbell. The sound of it caused her to jump a little, a reaction that surprised her in its strength for it was only Mr. Darcy, a man she should be of no real hurry to see. Shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had in Hertfordshire — paid his compliments to Mrs. Collins with his usual reserve, and met Elizabeth with every appearance of composure.
Elizabeth merely curtseyed to him without saying a word. It was not out of a desire to snub the gentleman that kept her quiet, but the sudden quickening of her heart when he entered. His eyes, so often seen in the shade of her dreams, struck her with their brilliant force, made all the more predominate by the blue color of his jacket. How could she have forgotten the exact shade of his eyes? For they were brilliant, even if they did belong to such a man.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly. Mr. Darcy, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was awakened so far as to inquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family.
She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment’s pause, added, “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you happened to see her there.”
She was perfectly sensible that he never had, but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the Bingleys and Jane, and she thought he looked a little confused as he answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The subject was pursued no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went away.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam seems very pleasant,” observed Charlotte, as her husband went to watch the gentlemen depart. “Mr. Darcy looked well.”
“Did he?” Elizabeth inquired, feigning ignorance. The effects of his presence had not completely worn off and now that he was gone, she took a deep breath to stop her stomach from quaking and her heart from pounding. “I had not noticed.”
“I daresay he was very polite to you,” Charlotte continued. “If you would like, I could give you advice that my mother gave me on how to fix a man’s interest. I will now confess that it is what keeps Mr. Collins quiet after his walks, as you have often observed.”
“I do not think it necessary. Mr. Darcy appeared the same to me. I did not notice much different in him.” Elizabeth quickly changed the subject, noting the exact shape of a new hat she had seen in a London shop, and thus turning the course of their conversation to more frivolous pursuits.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
COLONEL FITZWILLIA M’S MANNERS were very much admired at the Parsonage, and the ladies felt he must add considerably to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they received another invitation — for while there were visitors in the house, they could not be necessary. It was not till almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honored by such an attention. They had seen very little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had seen only at church.
The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain their company was by no means as acceptable as when she could get nobody else. She was engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed glad to see them for anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings, and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had caught his fancy. He seated himself by her, and talked agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of traveling and staying at home, of new books and music. Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before, and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine, as well as of Mr. Darcy. His eyes repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity and Elizabeth pretended not to notice his attention.
Her ladyship did not scruple to call out, “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”
“We are speaking of music, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.
“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. There are few people in England who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learned, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister. “She gets on exceedingly well. I daresay she is one of the few ladies I have heard with so obvious a natural talent.”
“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady Catherine. “And pray tell her from me, that, though she has natural talent, she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal.”
“I assure you, madam, that she does not need such advice,” he replied. “She practices constantly.”
“So much the better. It cannot be done too much. When I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless she practices more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome to come to Rosings every day and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way in that part of the house.”
To his credit, and Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made no answer.
When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him, and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked to her other nephew till the latter walked away from her. Making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, Mr. Darcy stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance.
Elizabeth saw what he was doing. At the first convenient pause, turned to him with a mischievous smile, and said, “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well.”
“I shall not say you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you. I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own.”
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am unlucky to meet with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire for you are provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”
“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly. She quickly turned her eyes to her fingers as they stumbled across a few keys.
“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”
“Prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire was at a ball. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner.”
“I
had not at that time the honor of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”
“True, and nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom.” She watched him from under her lashes, feeling somewhat lighthearted at their banter.
“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”
“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers.”
“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.” “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”
“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. Yet, I have always supposed it to be my own fault because I will not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s.”
Darcy stared at her fingers as she spoke, watching them tap absently on the keys in tiny, delicate caresses. “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”
Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) Page 20