by Linda Phelps
“I see no need, but since our dance is ending, and I believe I am expected to return you to your chair, I will tell her of my intention if she is herself seated there as she was before.”
Elizabeth, as Charlotte had foretold, tried hard to dissuade Mr. Collins from such an endeavor. She stated that Mr. Darcy would consider such an encroachment without a proper introduction to be an impertinent freedom. Glaring at Charlotte, she steadfastly denied any intimacy with Mr. Darcy that would give her leave to perform such an introduction.
“My dear Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said, “permit me to say that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony among the laity, and those which regulate the clergy. Further, my ability to give Mr. Darcy recent news of Lady Catherine, his aunt, must give precedence to such an approach by myself. You are not so much in fine society as to be able to understand the studied informality of people of rank in a situation such as this.”
Charlotte and Elizabeth watched as Mr. Collins did approach an amazed Mr. Darcy, who, to his credit, did not openly rebuff the clergyman. However, his distaste at this encounter was apparent. “Let us hope he does not mention that he is my father’s cousin and our house guest,” Elizabeth said. “There are already other members of the household who are more than willing to draw attention to themselves through lack of discretion.” This close and no closer did she ever come to mentioning the embarrassment she felt when her mother and younger sisters violated the proprieties “On a happier note, my sister Jane and Mr. Bingley seem to be furthering their intimacy, despite your prediction that he would not be able to recognize her feelings for him.”
“Yes,” Charlotte said. “That is apparent. I congratulate her on her triumph.”
“Let us hope that one day soon Jane will be mistress of this very house.”
“Yes, let us hope,” Charlotte said, congratulating herself that no one suspected her own fancies of herself as mistress of Netherfield.
At that moment Elizabeth was approached by Mr. Hurst while Mr. Bingley presented himself to Charlotte. The two newly formed couples joined in the line of dancers. Charlotte, whose wit was normally ready enough, found that her lately expressed happiness for Jane Bennet had exhausted her supply of polite banter. Mr. Bingley, however, did her the honour of smiling as he made observations about the music and the guests at his ball in such a congenial manner that she was, in a few moments, thinking of him as she had on the day they had met. If, in the heat of the dance his eye was often seeking another, she made sure she appeared not to notice.
Once back in their seats she was unable to resist confiding in Elizabeth that she found Mr. Bingley to be the finest dancer at the ball.
“Perhaps,” said Elizabeth. “I can only wish he had given instruction to Mr. Hurst, who is nonetheless a great improvement over Mr. Collins.”
At that moment the clergyman appeared in front of them and bowed to Elizabeth. “My dear cousin,” he said, “I hope you will forgive me for neglecting you, but I have been fulfilling my duties to other young ladies. Let us now dance again.”
“I beg your indulgence, Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth said, “but I have been dancing so constantly that I find myself quite exhausted. I must ask your pardon, but I prefer to rest
“Then, as an act representative of my regard for you, I will forego pleasure in dancing and sit with you. I am sure there are many details you wish to hear about Rosings and Lady Catherine, and such an interlude will provide an opportunity for me to relate them.”
“Oh, Sir, I would not for a moment request such a sacrifice from you, especially when I am completely confident that my friend Charlotte will be happy to oblige you on the floor.”
“Then I will postpone my narrative until after the dance. Miss Charlotte?”
Charlotte rose and, with a malevolent backward glance at her friend, took Mr. Collins’s arm as they joined the line of dancers.
Chapter Ten
WHEN THE COMPANY SAT down to supper, Mrs. Bennet began to discuss loudly with Lady Lucas her surety that Jane and Mr. Bingley were forming the kind of attachment that led to marriage. As always, she felt no need to speak quietly to her friend, but shared her hopes with half the table. “He is such a charming young man, and so rich.. He lives only the easy distance of three miles from us, so Jane will not be lost to her family in the least.”
Elizabeth blushed at this display. “Madam, speak more quietly, or better yet, not at all on this topic. Show discretion.”
Mrs. Bennet, drunk on her own happy speculations, ignored her. “And Mr. Bingley’s sisters are so fond of Jane. Just remember the kindnesses they showed her during her illness! And one must understand that my younger daughters will by this marriage be introduced to a superior society and might well find rich husbands for themselves.”
“Yes,” nodded Lady Lucas, “a very lucky set of circumstances. You are to be congratulated.”
“At my time of life it is pleasant to look forward to a cessation of my duties as chaperone. Once Jane is married to Mr. Bingley, she can assume responsibility for her sisters, and I will have the freedom to avoid gatherings such as this and stay quietly at home.”
This was too much for Lady Lucas. “I do not see you staying quietly at home in any case,” she said. “You are, Mrs. Bennet, very fond of society, I believe.”
“Madam,” said Elizabeth through clenched teeth, “remember where you are. Mr. Darcy is attending to every word you say.”
“And what care I for Mr. Darcy?” asked Mrs. Bennet. “I owe him no civilities.”
Elizabeth reddened further. She looked for sympathy to Charlotte, who kindly pretended to be unaware of the awkward pronouncements of Mrs. Bennet. She had noted a look of contempt upon the face of Mr. Darcy, who glanced from Mrs. Bennet to Elizabeth to Jane and Bingley, who were luckily seated at a distance from them. Miss Bingley, at his side, bore a look of extreme affront. It was likely she would have summoned servants to have Mrs. Bennet removed from the premises, had not manners precluded such an action.
Charlotte took comfort in the knowledge that had she somehow been the object of Mr. Bingley’s attentions, her mother would never have humiliated her in this fashion. Mrs. Bennet’s pronouncements had a chilling effect on those close to Bingley. The mother had done nothing to further Jane’s cause.
When supper ended, there was talk of singing, and, as was her habit, Mary Bennet quickly obtained the piano. Elizabeth sighed heavily, for Mary was not gifted with the ability to please. Mary performed until Mr. Bennet, catching Elizabeth’s hint, told her to turn the instrument over to others.
Mr. Collins, unable to bear discussion of which he was not the principal subject, said, “If I were so fortunate as to be able to sing or play, I should have great pleasure in obliging the company with an air. I consider music is a very innocent diversion and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. He continued with a litany of his clerical responsibilities, speaking loudly so as to attract the attention of the entire party, although he focused his words on Elizabeth. Mr. Collins had, it seemed, decided to promote his qualities to his cousin in this public fashion. He assured her again that since she was unable to dance, he would remain close to her for the remainder of the evening, “in order to pay you delicate attentions.”
Mrs. Bennet, overhearing this, recaptured Lady Lucas’s ear with praise for Mr. Collins and her hope that she might soon have two daughters married.
Charlotte pitied Elizabeth, who was visibly distressed that her family was making her such a conspicuous player in the various dramas of the Netherfield ball, She good-naturedly, took occasion to turn Mr. Collins’s attentions to herself. It was not difficult to divert him: Any question about his profession or Lady Catherine de Bourgh inspired him to articulate the most obscure details as they affected his life. Charlotte nodded politely through this recital, ready with another question any time Mr. Collins’s powers seemed to be in danger of waning. While appearing to listen to the clergyman she had l
eisure to consider the increased likelihood that Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley would make a match. It was not only Mrs. Bennet who so hoped, but Sir William Lucas and various other neighbors were now whispering that the wedding alliance was a certainty.
Charlotte remembered her own words on the topic when she had discussed it with Elizabeth. She had warned that it was unwise to appear too unaffected by a man in whom one was interested, for she might then lose all possibility of attaching him. Jane Bennet had not taken this advice but had nonetheless captured Bingley’s heart. Charlotte was left to comfort herself with the knowledge that at no time had she let her own affection for Mr. Bingley become the property of the neighbourhood gossips. But it was “poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark.”
Sir William Lucas and his family left Netherfield soon after, leaving the Bennets to say their thanks and farewells to their host and hostess. When Charlotte last saw Mr. Bingley, he and Jane Bennet stood aside from the people awaiting their coaches, talking earnestly, looking upon each other with delight.
Chapter Eleven
“YOU WILL NEVER AGAIN think of Mr. Bingley in any but the most casual fashion,” Charlotte told herself. “He is your neighbour. He will be so for the rest of your lif. You will be be his and Jane Bingley’s guest at balls and entertainments and dinners. There no way to avoid this fate”
She lectured herself as she performed various daily tasks. She scolded herself when she appeared to be conversing with family members. By the time she went to the bed she shared with Maria, she had almost mastered her heart.
Hereafter Charlotte must maintain a secure pose of serene indifference. The Bingley’s would have children who would be taught by expensive imported masters, The couple would spend their winters in town, their spring times in Bath. They would be gracious to aging unmarried women like Charlotte, occasionally remarking to each other and their families how altered her plain features became as her hair grayed.
Resolving not to dwell on these dismal inevitabilities, Charlotte made a good breakfast and then proceeded to Longbourn to participate in the requisite discussion of the previous night’s ball.
However, in the Bennet house the ball had been supplanted as the most newsworthy topic by another event.
Charlotte was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who exclaimed, “I am glad you are come, for there is such fun here!—What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy and she will not have him!”
Kitty Bennet joined them. “Lizzy has refused Mr. Collins’s offer of marriage! Mama is having fits and trying to get us to encourage her to change her mind.”
In the breakfast parlour Mrs. Bennet, was in an unaccustomed state of disarray. Peeking from beneath a wet cloth she wore on her brow, she cried, “Oh, Miss Lucas. Have they told you what has been done? I am all done in by my poor nerves. Not that she cares. What a wicked girl she is.”
“I am sorry for your distress, Madam. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
“Nobody is on my side. Even Mr. Bennet supports her, with no thought of what it would mean to me to have her so well married. I am cruelly used. Nobody feels for my poor nerves. Never have they been tried in this fashion.”
Charlotte nodded in sympathy. “Yes, Madam, this situation must be very hard for you.”
“Aye, there she comes”, continued Mrs. Bennet,
The wicked girl entered the room at that moment. “Mama, I am sorry to upset you, but I cannot marry Mr. Collins. We are not in the least suited for each other. I should be very unhappy, and I am equally sure that in time Mr. Collins would also be very unhappy.”
“And so will the rest of us be unhappy when your father dies and we are turned onto the road to starve! There is selfishness for you. Miss Lucas, please make her see sense. Mary, freshen this cloth with cool water. I am beginning a head ache.”
For the first time that she could remember, Charlotte was in complete agreement with Mrs. Bennet. If Elizabeth married Mr. Collins, the problem of the entailment would be solved. Longbourn would remain the property of the Bennets, the daughters would be assured a comfortable future should they not marry, and should the couple have a son, he would in turn inherit the property and its income. It was a perfect solution to the problem of the future of the Bennet women. In Charlotte’s view Elizabeth had a clear duty to marry this man, but she was ignoring this duty to stand by her fantastic ideal of compatibility between spouses. Charlotte wanted to shake her. Could she not recognize that incredible good fortune had been placed in her grasp?
“She cares nothing for us,” cried Mrs. Bennet, “provided she can have her own way. But I tell you, Miss, if you take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage, you will never get a husband—and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you when your father is dead.”
The daughters felt it wise to let their mother give voice to her feelings before they interfered. Charlotte stood in silent agreement. Mrs. Bennet scolded, “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.” However, she continued to speak at length. “In any case, people who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer!”
“Yes, Madam. Your courage on such occasions is a model for us all,” said Charlotte. Elizabeth turned to her, her eyes dancing in appreciation of Charlotte’s insincerity, but Charlotte had no motive other than to relieve Mrs. Bennet’s nerves.
During the course of Mrs. Bennet’s chastisement of her second daughter, Mr. Collins entered the room. He had assumed a more than usual posture of rectitude. He appeared not to notice the presence of Elizabeth in the circle of girls around her mother. Said Mrs., Bennet, “Now, I do insist that all of you hold your tongues and let Mr. Collins and I have a little conversation together.” The sisters, who had been observing silence for some minutes, passed out of the room, with the exception of Lydia who must hear what transpired in order to narrate the details at a later time.
Once the room had emptied, Mr. Collins bowed to Charlotte. “It is delightful to see you this morning, Miss Charlotte. I hope you are not overly fatigued after the exertion of last night’s ball.”
“Not in the least, Sir. One can hardly be fatigued when one’s exertions were for pleasure.”
“And your parents? Are they well?”
“Exceedingly so.”
“Please take them my compliments.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Oh, Mr. Collins,” cried Mrs. Bennet from her sofa. “How can I apologize for my undutiful daughter? Miss Charlotte, I beseech you to follow her and make her see reason.”
“I pray, Miss Charlotte, that you do not do so,” said Mr. Collins. “We will give her time to reconsider.”
Accordingly, Charlotte walked to a window and pretended not to hear the conversation that ensued between the mother and the rejected suitor. Mrs. Bennet apologized again and again, frequently demanding sympathy from Mr. Collins for her disappointment, which she apparently considered to be more severe than his own.
Mr. Collins, for his part, began to enumerate the various ways that Elizabeth did not seem like a candidate who could be counted on to please Lady Catherine de Bourgh. In a short time he had convinced himself that he had not, in fact, ever had a serious interest in Miss Elizabeth Bennet. “Far be it from me to resent the behaviour of your daughter, my dear Mrs. Bennet. A young man such as myself who has had the good fortune to receive early preferment from a most superior source, can only doubt that an alliance with my fair cousin would have, in fact led to my happiness. I intend to continue to honour yourself and Mr. Bennet, to whom I should perhaps have applied first, but my eagerness to be able to announce to Lady Catherine that I had succeeded in the task she made me, that of finding a suitable wife, that I may have overstepped certain societal boundaries.”
“Oh, Mr. Collins!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Do not think so. I am sure yo
u have acted in a completely exemplary fashion, just as a clergyman and gentleman should. I shall never forgive my ungrateful daughter for her shameful treatment of you.”
“Do not think of it again, Madam. We must accept the lady’s decision and move on.”
“Do not move too far, Mr. Collins. I have other daughters for you to consider,” cried Mrs. Bennet.
“I beg you, Madam, not to trouble yourself further in this matter. We should not speculate at this time as to what is to come later.”
Mollified by what she chose to consider a promise, Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, “Oh, Mr. Collins. What a comfort you are!” While she was in no mood to forgive Elizabeth, she was hopeful that by another alliance she would soon be able to call him son-in-law. Accordingly she began to plan the clothing and furniture that would be required before a proper wedding of her could be held.
Chapter Twelve
MR. COLLINS’S SUBSEQUENT STIFFNESS of manner when in the presence of Elizabeth caused unease among the females of the family. Mr. Bennet, having made his pronouncement in favour of Elizabeth’s refusal, secluded himself from the situation. Charlotte gently suggested that perhaps Mr. Collins would prefer the air of a fine autumn day and thus lured him away from the areas where the ladies congregated. Although she had a natural sympathy for anyone who might have been thwarted in love, it took only the conversation of a few minutes to convince her that no such thing had happened to the clergyman. He was indignant and somewhat humiliated, but his heart had not been touched.
Recognizing that Charlotte was a companion who would listen to him, he told her the events of the morning as he saw them.
“I suppose, Miss Lucas, that you have been apprised of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s response to my offer of marriage.”
“Yes, Sir. I have heard of it from Mrs. Bennet. She feels you have been ill-used.”