Once tea was finished, Mrs Philips asked Mr Collins if he would read to them. ‘For clergymen have wonderful reading voices in general and I am sure you are no exception.’
Mr Collins readily assented, and Lydia fetched her latest book from the circulating library. Mr Collins started back in horror, protesting that he never read novels, and Mrs Philips swiftly told Mary to bring another book. Mary produced a book of sermons, which Mr Collins was happy to read aloud.
His delivery was slow and without inflexion, so that Elizabeth had to stifle a yawn after a few minutes. She saw that Jane was also trying not to yawn. Lydia and Kitty took no trouble to disguise their boredom, but began to talk of other things. Mr Collins looked affronted and so Mrs Philips sent them from the room, saying, ‘Now those of us who have attained more sensible years can listen in comfort.’
Poor Jane, thought Elizabeth, as Mr Collins glanced more than once at her lovely sister. I will not let you marry him. Whatever I need to do to save you from such a fate, I will do.
When at last they retired to dress for dinner, Elizabeth said to Jane, ‘You must not even think of marrying him. The man is a fool.’
‘Really, Lizzy, you are being unfair,’ said Jane bravely. ‘He is perhaps not the most intelligent man of my acquaintance but his heart is in the right place. I believe he might propose to me and it is the best way out of our present difficulties. He is respectable and my aunt likes him. I really have no grounds to refuse.’
‘Oh Jane, Jane, I cannot let you do this,’ said Elizabeth in heartfelt tones.
All her emotion was in her eyes. She looked at her sister with love and compassion. She had been brushing her hair, counting the strokes as she pulled the brush through her shining brunette locks. But now she stopped brushing and gave all her concentration to her sister. How she loved Jane! The two of them had always shared all their joys and sorrows. They had shared all their secrets whilst they were growing up. They were as close as two sisters could be, and Elizabeth could not bear to think of Jane being unhappy.
Jane gave a sad smile.
‘No, it cannot be,’ said Elizabeth, shaking her head. ‘I am determined to go as a governess or a companion so that you do not have to marry that man. I can earn enough to pay for my sisters’ keep, I am sure. I want nothing for myself and I will give everything to my aunts. I do not want them to suffer because of their kindness to us.’
But Jane would not relent. She was mild mannered and she had a gentle disposition, but where she believed herself to be in the right, she could be firm.
‘You would be able to earn something as a governess, it is true,’ she said, ‘but I doubt if it would cover the cost of our sisters’ keep. Even if it did, it would not solve the problem of Aunt Philips’s small house. It is a good size for two, but very cramped for five. My mind is made up, Lizzy. If Mr Collins proposes to me, I will accept him.’
The brave look on Jane’s face as she said this almost broke Elizabeth’s heart.
Chapter Three
Mr Bingley arrived at Darcy House on the following morning. He was accompanied by his sister, Miss Caroline Bingley. She took every opportunity to spend time with Mr Darcy as she wanted to become the future Mrs Darcy. The fact that Mr Darcy had never given her the slightest encouragement did not dampen her spirits. Until he was married to someone else, Miss Bingley would continue to hope. And so she had invited herself to go to Hertfordshire.
Mr Darcy hid his vexation beneath his customary haughty exterior and preserved a superior silence as breakfast was served. In this he was aided by Mr Bingley, who had a toothache and who was therefore much quieter than usual. Miss Bingley did her best to start a conversation with Mr Darcy, asking about his sister and praising her, but Mr Darcy answered in monosyllables and the conversation was over before it had truly begun.
Nothing deterred, Miss Bingley continued to talk in a sprightly manner as they all climbed into the carriage after breakfast. She remarked on the beauty of the upholstery, the comfort of the seats, the space and elegance of the interior, to which Mr Darcy merely nodded in reply.
The journey from London to Hertfordshire was not a long one and the twenty-four miles were traversed before lunch. As they alighted from the carriage and went into The King’s Arms, the reputable hostelry where they were staying, Mr Bingley held his face and said that he would go straight to his room and do without lunch.
‘My dear Charles, you had better see the apothecary if your tooth is paining you so badly,’ said Miss Bingley. ‘It will not do to ignore it. You should have seen someone about it before we left London.’
Mr Bingley refused her suggestion, saying he believed he had slept in a draught the night before, and the toothache was a result. He had opened the window as the night had been unusually mild, but he should have kept it closed.
‘Really, Charles, you should know better than to open a window. The night air is injurious to the health,’ said Miss Bingley. ‘You must not think of opening your window tonight, and if your tooth is no better tomorrow then I will insist you see someone about it.’
They all three retired to their rooms to refresh themselves after the journey. Miss Bingley inspected her room with a disdainful air but pronounced it tolerable, and the gentlemen declared themselves satisfied with their respective chambers.
Mr Darcy and Miss Bingley ate in the private parlour and afterwards Mr Bingley joined them for a short while, but he declared himself not fit to inspect Netherfield Park as arranged.
‘I beg you will go without me,’ he said. ‘The appointment has been made and I do not want to cancel it.’
‘You might be feeling better by then,’ said Mr Darcy hurriedly. The idea of going to see Netherfield Park with Miss Bingley did not appeal to him. ‘The appointment is not for another hour and it will only take ten minutes to drive there in the carriage. There is no need for us to depart just yet.’
‘I fear there is no hope of my feeling better,’ said Mr Bingley with a groan. ‘Say you will go, I beg you, Darcy. I am not willing to see an apothecary here, for I do not wish to trust myself to a stranger in this matter. I hope all may yet be well, but if not - if I am forced to return to town with the toothache - it will be some consolation to know that you have inspected Netherfield for me. Then at least the journey will not have been wasted, and you can tell me all about it. I declare it will almost be as good as going myself.’
Mr Darcy was left with no alternative. He could not very well refuse to help his friend in such a situation. In fact, if it had not been for Miss Bingley, he would have suggested it himself. It was clear that Mr Bingley was in pain and would not be able to view the property with all the necessary attention, whereas Mr Darcy excelled at such matters.
‘Very well, I will go without you. There is no need for Miss Bingley to come, though,’ he said. ‘I am sure she will wish to remain with you, in case you need anything.’
‘No!’ exclaimed both Mr Bingley and his sister together.
From Mr Bingley’s stricken face, Mr Darcy realised his friend did not want Miss Bingley’s company. Small wonder, since she was not an easy person to be with at the best of times. And this, for Mr Bingley, was not the best of times.
‘That is, I will retire to my room and would prefer to be quiet,’ said Mr Bingley.
‘And I must go with you, to look over the house with a woman’s eye,’ said Miss Bingley. ‘You gentlemen are very good at noticing leaking roofs and neglected stables, but it takes a woman to notice details of carpets and curtains, and the state of the furniture. It also takes a woman to examine the servants and see if they know their business.’
Mr Darcy knew there was no alternative. He could not absolutely refuse to take Miss Bingley, and since nothing but an outright refusal would deter her, he resigned himself to an afternoon spent in her company. He comforted himself with the fact they would soon be returning to London, and then Miss Bingley would no longer be his problem.
She would once again be the problem of his po
or friend Mr Bingley!
The family at Longbourn were also planning to visit Netherfield Park that afternoon. Their neighbours, the Delawares, were leaving the area on the morrow and the Miss Bennets wanted to say farewell.
‘I cannot believe the Delawares are leaving,’ said Elizabeth, as she put on her bonnet and fastened her cloak over her russet pelisse. ‘They have lived at Netherfield Park ever since I can remember, and our two families have visited each other every week, sometimes almost every day. It will leave a sad hole in our lives when they have gone.’ She suddenly remembered that she, too, would soon be gone, and her face fell. ‘Everything is changing,’ she said sorrowfully.
‘Not everything,’ said Jane, with a brave smile. ‘I believe we may not have to leave our house. Mr Collins has asked me to walk into Meryton with him and my aunt has given her permission, as long as I take one of the maids with me as a chaperon. It means I cannot go to Netherfield Park with you. I hope you will give the Delawares my best wishes.’
‘I will,’ Elizabeth assured her. ‘But if you do not wish to walk into Meryton with Mr Collins, I beg you will say so. I will help you to find an excuse if you desire. I cannot bear to think of you being bothered by him.’
‘No, Lizzy, there must be no excuse,’ said Jane, with calm resolution. ‘I think his intentions are honourable towards me and there is nothing to object to in him. He is an honest man, and if he proposes then I will accept. Then our home, at least, will not change.’
‘Dearest Jane,’ said Elizabeth, putting a loving hand on her sister’s arm. ‘I suppose it is no use saying that you must not do it?’
‘None at all,’ said Jane, looking at her earnestly. ‘My mind is made up.’
Elizabeth knew it was useless to argue any further, but she had not accepted the situation. Mr Collins did indeed seem likely to propose to Jane, and the speed of his attachment was one of the many reasons why Elizabeth opposed it. He could not possibly have fallen in love with her in so short a time, nor could he have gained any deep knowledge of Jane’s character.
Mrs Philips had said it was a sign of his large heart, ‘for he is determined to do what is right and make up to you all for having inherited your house’. But, to Elizabeth, the idea was monstrous, and she had already written to her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to tell them so.
Her Uncle Gardiner was now the head of the family, and Mr Collins would have to apply to him for Jane’s hand in marriage. Elizabeth felt sure she could rely on Mr Gardiner to make some objection. If he did not absolutely forbid the match then she was sure he would at least say that a betrothal must be delayed until the two young people had a chance to know each other better. Even a delay was welcome to Elizabeth, for it would give her a chance to find some employment, and then she might be able to persuade Jane that it was not her duty to marry.
Mr Collins and Mrs Philips at that moment joined them, with Elizabeth’s three younger sisters. One of the Longbourn maids was behind them.
‘My dear Miss Bennet, you look enchanting,’ said Mr Collins to Jane. ‘The birds themselves are singing your praises,’ he went on. He made a clumsy bow to match his clumsy compliment. ‘Are you ready for our walk?’
‘I am,’ Jane replied.
He gave her his arm and she took it.
‘Then let us set out. I am looking forward to seeing the town where I will be spending my life. If it is as agreeable as Longbourn and all its inhabitants, then it will be very charming. I count myself a fortunate man, yes, a fortunate man indeed to have found such a delightful part of the country, and to have inherited such a desirable residence. I am persuaded that any young lady would find it an acceptable home. There is nothing to be ashamed of, I believe, in what I have to offer.’
Elizabeth’s heart fell at this awkward speech, but Mrs Philips smiled and said what an intelligent remark it was. She added that not all young men were so gifted in their conversation.
‘You have a way with words, Mr Collins,’ she said to him.
M Collins beamed.
In good spirits, then, Mr Collins gave Jane his arm and the two of them set out, with one of the Longbourn maids following at a discreet but respectable distance.
‘Oh! Two love birds! How charming they look!’ said Mrs Philips. She watched them through the window until they were out of sight. ‘Mr Collins admires your sister, girls, and I am sure it is not surprising. Never a better young lady drew breath. We will have a wedding at Longbourn before long and you will all be bridesmaids. What a happy day that will be! And then we can all go on as before.’
Elizabeth could bear no more of this and so she said, ‘We had better be going, Aunt. We are due at Netherfield Park and the carriage is already at the door.’
‘So it is. I will just put on my bonnet and cloak, then we will be off.’
The three younger girls were already dressed for visiting and within a few minutes they were all seated in the carriage, on their way to Netherfield Park. It was a familiar route and before long they were turning in at the drive. From there it was but a short ride to the front door, where they all climbed out of the carriage and were admitted to the house.
‘I am so glad you are here,’ said Mrs Delaware, when they entered the drawing-room. ‘We will be off in the morning and we wanted to entertain you for one last time.’
The three Miss Delawares added their greetings and they all sat down. The drawing-room was sadly empty. The sofa remained, and a few chairs, but most of the personal ornaments and paintings had been packed up and sent on to Bath, where the family were going to live for the next few years.
The three youngest Miss Bennets retired to the far corner of the room with the three Miss Delawares, to look at a fashion journal, leaving the older ladies to talk in peace.
‘Is Mr Delaware not here?’ asked Mrs Philips.
‘He is making the final arrangements with the steward but he will be here shortly. In fact, he should be here already,’ she said, glancing at the clock which stood in the corner. ‘One of our prospective tenants, Mr Bingley, will be here at any minute.’
‘One of the prospective tenants?’ asked Mrs Philips.
‘Yes. We have had several enquiries. I must say, it is a relief. I do not know what we will do if we cannot find a tenant. But if Mr Bingley does not take the house, then the agent will show the others around later in the week. I am sure one of them will take it. It is a very fine house and will make a splendid home for whoever rents it. For your sake, I hope it is a family with lots of sons.’
‘Ah, that would be nice,’ said Mrs Philips wistfully.
‘Rich sons,’ said Mrs Delaware.
Mrs Philips was lost for a moment in a happy daydream of wealthy young gentlemen courting her nieces. Then she remembered her manners and said, ‘I am sure I hope you find plenty of eligible gentlemen in Bath. Your girls are all excellent, and it would give me great pleasure to see them all returning to the neighbourhood to show off their wedding clothes.’
The two ladies shared a happy sigh.
‘We are so sorry you are leaving,’ said Elizabeth, who felt the daydreams had gone on for long enough.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ said Mrs Delaware, coming back down to earth. ‘It is a sad time for us all, is it not? We are leaving the neighbourhood and you will soon have to leave, too. The town will not be the same without you.’
‘As to that, there have been developments,’ said Mrs Philips. ‘Mr Collins is very taken with Jane and I feel sure there will be a wedding before long. The two of them have walked into Meryton together today. That is why dear Jane is not with us.’
‘She asked me to give you her best wishes,’ said Elizabeth.
Mrs Delaware clasped her hands in front of her chest.
‘So Mr Collins has taken an interest in Jane. That is good news!’ she said in brighter tones. ‘I am very happy to hear it.’
The sound of a discreet cough prevented her from saying any more. The ladies turned to the door to see that the butler was standing the
re with the house agent, together with a very elegant lady and gentleman. The Delawares and Bennets had been so busy talking, they had not heard the carriage arrive.
The ladies rose at once and Elizabeth had time to study the lady and gentleman as the house agent apologised for being a few minutes early. The gentleman was tall and handsome, with dark hair curling on to his collar and dark sideburns framing his face. He wore a tall hat and a many-caped greatcoat, beneath which Elizabeth could see well-cut breeches and a tailcoat. There was a hint of white at his neck, and a glimpse of a starched cravat.
Everything about him was agreeable, except his expression, which was proud and haughty. He looked around the room with a discerning eye, taking in all the details of its size and shape. He let his gaze linger on the furniture and then move on, through the window, to the estate.
The lady next to him was no less arrogant. She was dressed in the most gorgeous travelling cape of sky blue which was matched with a plumed hat. Beneath it, Elizabeth caught sight of a blue silk dress and a pair of very elegant shoes. She, too, looked around the room with a haughty air.
‘I am pleased to meet you, Mr Bingley,’ said Mrs Delaware, dropping a curtsey.
The tall gentleman looked down his nose at her and said, in clipped tones, ‘I am not Mr Bingley. I am Mr Darcy. Mr Bingley is indisposed and so I am looking over the house for him.’
‘Oh, dear, I am sorry to hear he is not well. Please give him my good wishes for a speedy recovery. You are very welcome here, Mr Darcy.’ She turned to the elegant lady. ‘And so are you, Mrs Darcy,’ she said, dropping a curtsey.
Elizabeth happened to be looking at the lady and gentleman when Mrs Delaware said this. She was astonished to see their expressions were completely different. In fact they were so completely opposite, they looked extremely comical. On the one hand, the gentleman looked absolutely horrified, and his eyebrows shot up so far they almost disappeared beneath his hair. The lady, on the other hand, almost purred. Elizabeth had never seen such a smug look of self-satisfaction and delight on anyone before, not even on a cat which had just stolen the cream! The contrast between the two was so pronounced that Elizabeth almost laughed out loud.
A Companion For Miss Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 3