"I have, Sir."
"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is not it so, Mrs. Bennet?"
"Yes, or I will never see her again."
"An unhappy alternative is before you, I fear, 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 certainly never see you again if you do."
Elizabeth’s smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning was much as I had expected; 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, by talking in this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him.”
“I recollect no such promise, my dear. I merely undertook to let her know my opinion on this distasteful subject. I have done so, and that concludes my involvement. And now, my dear, 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.”
Mrs. Bennet, I believe, then went to try again with Mr. Collins, and on his being determined to accept no substitute, fell naturally into her last resort, and became fretful and unwell, preparatory to taking to her bed with the vapours.
The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet's ill humour or ill health and Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. His feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid anyone, even Elizabeth, but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. Personally, I thought this a great improvement upon his customary endless volubility, but it did occasion some awkwardness at times.
I had rather hoped that this treatment might induce Mr. Collins to cut short his visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by Elizabeth’s rejection. He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay.
I rather prided myself on my handling of the situation at the time. I still indulged in pride in those days. The fall was to come before very long, however.
Chapter Twenty-two An Engagement
After breakfast, therefore, the girls walked unescorted to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Wickham were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball.
Mr. Collins absented himself from Longbourn shortly after their departure, leaving behind him no tidings of the expected duration of his excursion nor of its destination. Both of these things became clear in due course, however.
In the meantime I was left to listen to Mrs. Bennet’s endless refrain of “nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me, I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor nerves.”
And -
“There she goes, 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 what, Mr. Bennet, if Miss Lizzy takes it into her head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, she will never get a husband at all—and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain her when her father is dead. I shall not be able to keep her, and so I warn you. I have done with her from this very day. I told her in the library, you know, that I should never speak to her 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 any body. 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.”
On the return of the Meryton party, bringing Wickham with them, she addressed, as far as I could see, this style of not complaining quite as much to the daughter she had sworn never to speak to again as she had to me.
Soon after their return, however, a letter was delivered for Miss Bennet, which brought with it a new cause for not complaining. It came from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand; and I marked my daughter’s countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Elizabeth had also noticed this alteration, and evidently felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from the egregious Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance to Jane invited her to follow her up stairs.
When they came down, having evidently spent some time in conference, they announced merely the departure of the Netherfield family. I thought I detected rather more than this in their joint countenances, but even this partial communication gave Mrs. Bennet a great deal of concern, and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen to go away, just as they were all getting so intimate together. After lamenting it however at some length, she had the consolation of thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again and soon dining at Longbourn, and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take care to have two full courses.
We were now engaged to dine with the Lucases, and again during the chief of the day, was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her.
"It keeps him in good humour," said she, "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.
But Miss Charlotte was soon to have even more ample repayment, although its nature we did not discover for some little time.
On the last appointed day of his visit, Mr. Collins stole out of Longbourn House quite early in the morning, and was not seen again until the evening. We were all, save Mrs. Bennet, excessively relieved at this unexpected display of tactful consideration, which made the revelation, when it came, all the more extraordinary.
As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see any of the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet with great politeness and cordiality said how happy we should be to see him at Longbourn again, whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit us.
"My dear Madam," he replied, "this invitation is particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as possible."
We were all astonished; and as we could by no means wish for so speedy a return, I immediately said,
"But is there not danger of Lady Catherine's disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations, than run the risk of offending your patroness."
"My dear sir," replied Mr. Collins, "I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her ladyship's concurrence."
"You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk any thing rather than her displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we shall take no offence."
"Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such affectionate attention; and depend upon it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, as well as for every other mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth."
With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally surprised to find that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher than
any of the others; there was a solidity in his reflections which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve himself by such an example as her's, he might become a very agreeable companion.
For my own part, I had done what lay within my power. I could only hope that the magic name of Lady Catherine would prevail, and the lady herself prove as unaccommodating as I had imagined her.
But on the following morning, every hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before.
Mr. Collins’s escape out of Longbourn House on his last morning had been undertaken with admirable slyness, and allowed him to hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw himself at Miss Lucas’s feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not fail to conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known till its success could be known likewise; for though feeling almost secure, he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday
In as short a time as Mr. Collins's long speeches would allow, every thing was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as they entered the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must be waved for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature, must guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that establishment were gained.
Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent; and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins's present circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were exceedingly fair.
The least agreeable circumstance in the business, was the surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth, whose friendship Miss Charlotte valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such disapprobation. She had resolved, therefore, to give her the information herself, and had charged Mr. Collins when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family.
Elizabeth had just begun to relate these occurrences to her mother and sisters, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter, to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken, and Lydia, always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed,
"Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?"
Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William's good breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.
Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole; one, that Elizabeth was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that she herself had been barbarously used by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing appease her.
Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her, a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their daughter.
My own emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such as I did experience I found to be of a most agreeable sort; and was able to announce with a clear conscience how much it gratified me to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom I had been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as my wife, and more foolish than my daughter.
Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness; nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton.
Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet's sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.
The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to me, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth's abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform us, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of our amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready to close with our kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.
Mr. Collins's return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary she was as much disposed to complain of it as I was. It was very strange that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley's continued absence.
It was evident that neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.
Whatever Jane may have felt she was desirous of concealing, and by her and her sister Elizabeth, therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back, she should think herself very ill used. It needed all Jane's steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.
Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention; and luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.
Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of any thing concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill humour, and wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sigh
t of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see us she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house, as soon as I should be dead.
She complained bitterly of all this to me.
"Indeed, Mr. Bennet," said she, "it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take my place in it!"
"My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor."
This did not appear to be very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and, which I assume is the reason why, instead of making any answer, she went on as before,
"I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail I should not mind it."
"What should not you mind?"
"I should not mind any thing at all."
"Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility."
"I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for any thing about the entail. How any one could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one's own daughters I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should he have it more than anybody else?"
"I leave it to yourself to determine," was all I could say.
The days when I was prepared to waste time and effort on explanations with Mrs. Bennet are, I fear, long gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three A Change of Visitors
Miss Bingley's letter shortly arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother's regret at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the country. It was some days before poor Jane could bring herself to communicate this to the rest of us, although I believe that she had had a long session with her sister Elizabeth on the subject almost immediately.
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