“It is a very great temptation.”
“It is indeed, but you must be firm. Consider everything carefully. A man must be cautious in making a decision of such great import. It is all very well to be attracted by a pretty face or a spirited manner, but there is no need to marry a lady just because she is enticing.”
This statement puzzled Mr. Bingley. Miss Bennet had a great many wonderful qualities, but a spirited manner was not exactly one of them. It would be more accurate to describe her manner as calm or serene. Spirited was, however, the perfect word for describing her sister. He glanced at his friend and saw a troubled expression. Could it be that the advisor was struggling with some temptation of his own?
As Mr. Darcy continued to offer his counsel, Mr. Bingley became more convinced that the words were not meant to persuade him alone. He recalled that there had lately been an edge to Mr. Darcy’s manner, which suggested that something was on his mind. And there was that banter in which he so frequently engaged with Elizabeth. In fact, they were very much like Beatrice and Benedick, always wanting to converse with each other, but always at odds as well. It really was a pity that Elizabeth had not been cast in that role. That would have made an excellent pairing for the purpose of dramatic effect.
Indeed, it had the potential to be a great pairing in all regards. Mr. Bingley had never been fully convinced that connections and consequence were more important than love, but he had conceded to that opinion, which was held by his sisters and most of society, as well as Mr. Darcy. However, having spent a great part of the past few days with Jane, he was feeling less inclined toward following the dictates of society and more inclined toward trusting his own judgment.
It occurred to him now that his friend might benefit from being persuaded toward this perspective on the matter. Could that be done? Having rarely succeeded in persuading Mr. Darcy of anything, Mr. Bingley had no confidence of being able to sway him away from beliefs and values which were held so strongly. It would be pointless to bring up the subject directly, but perhaps there were subtle ways in which he might exert an influence.
“I hope that you will think very carefully about everything I have said,” Mr. Darcy concluded.
“I will indeed,” Mr. Bingley said, although he had barely heard the last part of it. “You have given me a great deal to think about.”
CHAPTER 11
Affection is a coal that must be cool’d…
VENUS AND ADONIS
When she woke the next morning, Elizabeth wanted to believe that she had imagined Mr. Collins. If only his visit and her humiliation could have just been a horrible dream. But no, she remembered all too clearly his gloating expression and his presumptuous attitude.
He was undoubtedly real, and he would be returning to Netherfield that morning. The anticipation of fresh humiliation gave her a sudden urge to make herself appear as unattractive as possible. She rose from the bed and looked through her clothing, wishing that she owned something hideous enough to repulse this unwanted suitor. It was unfortunate that she had never thought to acquire such a dress for this very need.
Then again, considering his enthusiasm on the previous day, an ugly dress would probably not dampen his ardour. In fact, he was more likely to consider a plain appearance as a sign of usefulness, one of the traits for which he had expressed such great value. Really, an ostentatious dress might be more to the point. Mr. Collins would not care for a wife whose clothing suggested a disregard for economy.
Elizabeth wavered for a moment between a plain brown dress and the most elegant one she had in her possession, but the latter was insufficiently grand for her purpose. In truth, she was economical in the matter of her wardrobe. Her pocket allowance went a long way. Indeed, it was never fully spent, which meant that she always had funds at her disposal in case of any sudden need, but expensive clothes were beyond her means. She had never much desired them either. In that regard, she really was suited to be the mistress of Hunsford.
What a dreadful thought! Elizabeth hastily reminded herself of the many ways in which she was unsuited for that role. Not that it mattered anyway since she was absolutely going to refuse him. But even better was not being asked in the first place. Discouraging him by any means possible should be her first priority.
With that in mind, she put on the plain dress, turned to the looking glass, and surveyed her reflection with dissatisfaction. This was not the dull appearance which she had been wanting to achieve. The dress was neither plain nor unbecoming. There was an elegance to its simple style and a remarkable richness to this shade of brown.
She cast her eye over her clothes again, but there was nothing which made her think it worth the bother of changing. And why should there be? It was not as though any lady wanted to own ugly dresses.
There was a knock at the door, heralding her sister, who had come to see if she was ready to go downstairs.
“What do you think of this dress?” she asked Jane.
“It looks very nice,” her sister replied. “That colour suits you.”
“I was afraid of that,” Elizabeth said, rather crossly.
“Do you not want to look nice?” Jane asked in puzzlement.
“No, I do not. I want to look hideous for Mr. Collins.”
“I see.” Comprehension dawned on Jane’s face. “Unfortunately, I do not think you can look hideous, Lizzy.”
“I am much obliged for the compliment, but I would be more obliged if you could lend me an ugly dress.”
“I do not think I have one. Anyway, there is too much difference in our heights. My dresses will be too long for you.”
Elizabeth brightened up. “That is just what I need. Lady Catherine probably deplores clumsiness. If I catch my foot in the hem and fall over, Mr. Collins may take me in aversion.”
“So shall I if you tear one of my dresses. Fortunately for me, there is no time for you to change. Caroline and Louisa have already gone down. We should join them.”
“A shawl might give this dress a more ordinary appearance.” Elizabeth quickly picked one up and threw it around her shoulders. “Or does this make me look too useful?”
“It looks just right. Very ordinary, but without any suggestion of usefulness.”
Elizabeth looked suspiciously at her sister, whose tone of voice suggested a lack of honesty, and then in the mirror again. “It is far too pretty,” she cried.
The shawl was a recent gift from their Aunt Gardiner, who had excellent taste and was well placed for finding good bargains. This was the first time Elizabeth had examined it in bright light, and now she saw a golden sheen to the threads.
“This will never do. It complements the dress perfectly.” She looked closer. “And it seems to make my eyes sparkle.”
“It does indeed,” Jane admitted, steering her sister out of the room. “You look very nice. But we should hurry downstairs.”
“Perhaps I should leave the shawl off.”
“Not now.” Jane shut the door and propelled Elizabeth along the passage. “You can change later, but do you really think that Mr. Collins will be put off by anything you might do to detract from your appearance?”
“Probably not,” Elizabeth conceded.
“Then you might as well stay as you are.”
“There are other ways of repelling him,” Elizabeth said as they went downstairs. “If the subject should come up, do not mention to him that this shawl was a gift from Aunt Gardiner. In fact, you were horrified by the shocking amount that I spent on it.”
She went to breakfast feeling almost cheerful, but another one of Mr. Darcy’s critical gazes immediately put an end to her amusement. Evidently, he was quite capable of finding fault in her appearance.
But she was not going to let his disapproval get her down. Amusement was swiftly recaptured by the imagining of a scene in which Mr. Darcy imparted his low opinion of her to Mr. Collins.
In her mind he said, “She is tolerable, but not ladylike enough to be presented to my aunt.”
&nb
sp; If only he would be so obliging. Such condemnation from his lips would instantly put an end to Mr. Collins’s intentions. Elizabeth looked speculatively at Mr. Darcy for a moment before realizing that she was again smiling, and now directly at him. She hastily looked away. If he could inadvertently do her the favour of persuading Mr. Collins to think her unworthy of gracing Hunsford Parsonage, then she might have to like Mr. Darcy just a little bit, but there was no cause to be smiling at him.
CHAPTER 12
The venom clamours of a jealous woman…
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS, ACT V, SCENE I
She smiled at Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley thought. How dare she! He is mine. Is she making a play for him in the hope of being saved from Mr. Collins? How arrogant of her to think that Mr. Darcy would fall for her smiles. It is a good thing he will not.
He had better not. Is it possible that he would stoop so low? It is concerning to see him staring into space with such a moony expression upon his face.
Should I let Mr. Collins have his first choice after all? I would enjoy seeing Eliza thoroughly humiliated. And Jane seems to have taken our conversation to heart. She did not smile at Charles this morning. But he might yet declare himself to her. He is looking rather moony as well. It will be better to get her fixed to Mr. Collins as soon as possible.
And Mr. Darcy would never marry beneath himself. I know that he would not. I really must stop worrying about it. Jane will marry Mr. Collins, and nobody will ever marry Eliza Bennet with her pert opinions and dirty petticoats.
These are but wild and whirling words…
HAMLET, ACT I, SCENE V
She smiled at me, Mr. Darcy thought. Is it possible that she likes me? If so, she keeps her feelings very well hidden. I have seen nothing to suggest that she does. She does not flatter me, thank goodness, but she does not have anything nice to say about me either. Indeed, she is excessively critical. It is miraculous that I like her so much.
But could she like me? I had not considered that point before now. If I really wanted her, could I even have her? I thought I could, but she is unique. It is possible that she would actually do what I cannot imagine anybody else doing. Would she turn me down? Of all the ladies I know, she is the most capable of scoffing at my wealth and saying, ‘I do not happen to like you’.
But what did that smile mean? Why did she look at me with such delight in her eyes? Was she thinking some mockery of me? I can well imagine that too. She scorns me to my face. There is no telling what malice might be in her mind.
Or is she looking about for anybody who might save her from Mr. Collins? Does she mean to entice me as an alternative. In that case, she can save her smiles. I am not going to fall for them. She will have to look elsewhere for her rescuer.
What a nasty thought. That was unworthy of me. It was mean-spirited, which I do not want to be. I must give her what is rightfully due. She is not that sort of person. She is as honest as the day is bright. As principled as the night is dark.
Perhaps that is not the best comparison. When the moon is full, the night can be bright. She is as varied as the moon with all its different stages. And as lovely as shining, silvery moonlight. Although not in that dress. Nor with her colouring. I had better compare her to the sun. The burnished sun of a richly-coloured autumn day.
Or shall I compare her to a summer’s day. Sparkling and full of life.
Or perhaps I had better just pass Miss Bingley the preserves. She sounds quite aggravated. Have I been staring into space and making a fool of myself? Over a simple smile.
Perhaps that smile had nothing to do with me. Perhaps she just happened to look my way while smiling about something else. Was she even smiling at all? Perhaps it was just the curve of her lips. Perhaps I allowed myself to get agitated over nothing.
I wish she would smile at me and keep on smiling. I wish that she did like me.
She does look very pretty this morning. That dress and shawl become her perfectly. It would be wonderful if I could see her every morning. Every morning, every afternoon, every evening, through days and month and years. But no. I am not supposed to be thinking like this. Away with you, temptation! Away!
…I am sure my love’s more ponderous than my tongue.
KING LEAR, ACT I, SCENE I
She smiled at Darcy, Mr. Bingley thought. She does like him. This is excellent. Now if only he could stop being so particular. I wish there were some way of influencing him. Perhaps Miss Bennet could help me think of something. Oh, heavens no. I cannot tell her that Darcy looks down on her family. He is going to be awkward enough if I propose to her.
Never mind if. My mind is made up. I will propose to her. I will not be swayed by Caroline and Louisa. I do not care if they are disappointed. The alternative is my disappointment. I am sorry that Darcy will not like it, but he will come around. At least I hope he will. He must. I do not want to put a barrier between us. His friendship means a great deal to me, but so does Miss Bennet.
How shall I ask her? How does a man go about making a proposal? I shall probably get my tongue tied up in knots. I shall be quivering in my boots.
But I must take arms against a sea of troubles. Or something of that sort. I must summon up the courage and take my fate in hand. I must tell her that I love her more than the moon and the stars.
Actually, I have always been fairly indifferent to the moon and stars. What could I love her more than? If I were Darcy, it would probably be more than my library. That is no compliment to anybody who has seen the state of my library. If I were Mr. Hurst it would be more than a ragout.
Ha! That is an amusing thought. But Louisa would not have been amused if he had said that. Nor would Miss Bennet like to be compared to a dish. What do I love more than anything? Besides her, of course. This matter bears some thinking about.
Why is Caroline glaring at me?
The better part of valour is discretion…
HENRY IV, ACT V, SCENE IV
She smiled at Mr. Darcy, Jane thought. I think she really does like him underneath all the dislike that she keeps proclaiming. And he obviously likes her. There was so much admiration in that look he just gave her.
I do hope that Lizzy will look past her prejudices. I really think that he is just the man for her. It would be wonderful if they were to get married. Then I could be happy for her. It will be enough if one of us is able to marry for love. I must not think sadly of my own fate.
Nobody must see that I am unhappy. I shall smile and speak of pleasant things. Just not to Mr. Bingley. But it would not be a good idea to ignore him either. I do not want anybody to notice a change in my behaviour. I had better speak to him, but with the appearance of indifference. No, not indifference. Ordinary friendliness. That will be easy enough to do. It is how we treat each other already.
We are friends, and that is enough. No, it is not enough, but it will have to do. I will not let anybody guess my sorrows. Including Lizzy. I cannot tell her of my disappointment when she is on the verge of falling in love. I hid it very well from Caroline and Louisa yesterday, and I will go on hiding it. But oh, how my heart breaks.
A poor player that struts and frets his hour on the stage…
MACBETH, ACT V, SCENE V
She smiled at Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Hurst thought. Caroline looks furious. I hope she is not going to change her mind about our plan. We must get Jane married to Mr. Collins. It is all very well to be friendly with her when there is nobody better to keep us company, but I do not want to introduce her to any of my real friends. Nor her family. If Charles were to marry her, then all the Bennets would be constantly visiting them in London. How mortifying that would be!
I wish we were back in London. This play is turning out to be such a disappointment. I wish we had done Lovers Vows. Then I would not have had a stupid little role. I wish Charles had not been so quick to give a better part to Jane. I wish my husband were not so useless. He should have taken the part of Antonio, but instead I shall have to act that scene with Sir William, which is very
disagreeable.
…cry ‘Havoc!’ and let slip the dogs of war.
JULIUS CAESAR, ACT III, SCENE I
What is that dreadful girl smiling about? Mr. Hurst thought. I see no cause for amusement. This stupid play is going to be such a nuisance, and the house is about to be overrun by soldiers.
CHAPTER 13
…more of your conversation would infect my brain…
CORIOLANUS, ACT II, SCENE I
After breakfast, the aspiring actors and the reluctant ones returned to the morning room to await the rest of their troupe. The first to arrive were Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy saw a very pleasing affection in Elizabeth’s reception of her father, and a heartening lack of affection in the cool greeting which she gave her cousin. He then had to remind himself that he was supposed to be indifferent.
Mr. Bennet went to sit with his daughters, but Mr. Collins stood uncertainly. He glanced back and forth between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, who saw the nature of the man’s dilemma. They were sitting far enough apart that it was only possible to pay attention to one of them. Which would it be?
The indecisive eyes came to rest upon a seat. Mr. Collins sat down and proceeded to devote himself to Mr. Darcy, which he did zealously, beginning with informing Mr. Darcy that he had written to Lady Catherine as promised.
For most gentlemen, that statement would have sufficed, but Mr. Collins had to say more. He speculated upon the hour at which his letter would arrive at Rosings, and this could not be done without some observations upon the excellence of the postal service, which then led him to declare that they were very fortunate to be living in such a civilized country as England.
There are plenty of other countries which also have postal service and various amenities of civilization, Mr. Darcy thought irritably. I wonder what Mr. Collins would say if I pointed this out. Naturally he would have to agree with me, and that would lead to more of the flattery which I despise so much. It is better to let England have all the praise and take none for myself.
Much Ado About Many Things Page 6