Elizabeth Bennet Read online

Mr. Collins went missing from early the following day. Later at diner when questioned he was most evasive as to his whereabouts.

  He was to begin his journey early on the morrow, so they performed the ceremony of leave-taking when the ladies moved for the night.

  With great politeness and cordiality, Mrs. Bennet said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again. "Whenever your engagements might allow."

  "My dear madam, this invitation is particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive," he replied. "And you may be very certain that I will avail myself of it as soon as possible."

  They were all astonished.

  Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said, "But is there not a 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, I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution. You may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her Ladyship's concurrence," Mr. Collins replied.

  "You cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything rather than her displeasure. If you find it likely to be raised by you're coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home. Be satisfied that we shall take no offence."

  "Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is excited by such affectionate attention. Depend upon it. You will soon receive from me a letter of thanks for this and every other mark of your regard during my stay. As for my fair cousins, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth. Tough my absence may not be long enough to render such sentiments necessary."

  With proper civilities, the ladies then withdrew. All equally surprised that he meditated a quick return.

  If any of them thought he might paying his addresses to one of her younger girls, every hope of this kind was done away on the following morning.

  Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast. In a private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before. Mr. Collins had visited the Lucases and proposed marriage. The proposal was accepted by Caroline herself and blessed by her parents.

  The possibility of Mr. Collins's fancying himself in love with her friend had occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two. That Charlotte could encourage him seemed as far from possibility as she could encourage him herself.

  Her astonishment was consequently so great as to overcome the bounds of decorum, and she could not help rudely crying out, "Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte—impossible!"

  The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her story, gave way to momentary confusion. She should have expected to receive so direct a reproach from Elizabeth.

  She soon regained her composure, and calmly replied, "Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?"

  Having recollected herself, and making a strong effort, Elizabeth assured with tolerable firmness that she wished her all imaginable happiness.

  "I see what you are feeling," replied Charlotte. "You must be surprised, very much surprised—so lately as Mr. Collins wished to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home. Considering Mr. Collins's character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state. Marriage has always been my object. It is the only provision for well-educated young women of small fortune. However uncertain of giving happiness, a marriage will at least keep a lady from poverty and need."

  Elizabeth quietly answered, "Undoubtedly."

  After an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard.

  It was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match.

  The strangeness of Mr. Collins's making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte's opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own. She had not supposed it possible that Charlotte would sacrifice so much to worldly advantage.

  Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a most humiliating picture! To the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction of the impossibility for that friend to be happy in the lot she had chosen.

  Chapter 20

  Elizabeth sat with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard when Sir William Lucas himself appeared. Doubting whether she was authorised to mention it, the question answered. He came to announce the engagement to the family.

  With many compliments to them and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, Sir Lucas unfolded the matter to an incredulous audience.

  Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken.

  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 good humour of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment. But Sir William's good breeding carried him through it all. He listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy. And he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information.

  Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account. She mentioned her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself. She endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William. She was joined by Jane in making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.

  Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overcome to say a great deal while Sir William remained. 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. Fourthly, she believed the match might be broken off.

  Two inferences were deduced from the whole. One, Elizabeth was the real cause of the mischief. The other that she herself had been barbarously misused by them all. On these two points, she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console, and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her resentment.

  A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her.

  Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match. She said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness. Elizabeth could not persuade her to consider it improbable.

  Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman. 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. She called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was. Mrs. Bennet's sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.

  Between Elizabeth and Charlotte, there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject. Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her sister. She was sure her opinion of Jane's rectitude and delicacy could never be shaken. For her happiness, Elizabeth grew daily more anxious. Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing heard of his return.

  Jane had sent
Caroline an early answer to her letter and was counting the days till she heard more again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday. Addressed to their father and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth's abode in the family might have prompted. He proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas. With the view of enjoying her society, he hoped to return on Monday fortnight. Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible. He trusted this would be an unanswerable argument. With his amiable Charlotte, he would hope to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.

  Mr. Collins's return was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. 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. Young lovers were the most disagreeable of all people. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley's continued absence.

  Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any tidings of him expect the report 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.

  Even Elizabeth began to fear that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's happiness, and so dishonourable to the stability of Jane's lover, she could not prevent its frequently occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters and his overpowering friend might be too much for the strength of his attachment. Added to this the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London.

  As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense was more painful than Elizabeth's. Whatever she felt, she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, the subject was never alluded to. As no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley. Frequently, expressing her impatience for his arrival, or requiring Jane to confirm that if he did not come back, she would think herself ill-used. It needed all Jane's steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.

  Mr. Collins returned punctually on Monday fortnight. 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. Luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day he spent at Lucas Lodge. He sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.

  Mrs. Bennet was in a most pitiable state. The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour. But wherever she went, she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession. Whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet 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 Mr. Bennet were dead. She complained bitterly of all this to her husband and eldest daughters.

  "Indeed, Mr. Bennet, it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house. I should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take her 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 was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and 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 anything at all."

  "Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility."

  "I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one's 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," said Mr. Bennet.

  Chapter 21

  Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter. It 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.

  Hope was over, entirely over. When Jane could attend to the rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the writer, that could give her any comfort.

  Praise of Miss Darcy occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on. Joyfully, Caroline boasted of their increasing intimacy. She ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had unfolded in her former letter. She also wrote with great pleasure of her brother's being an inmate of Mr. Darcy's house. She mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furniture.

  Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this to Elizabeth, who listened in silent indignation. Her heart divided between concern for her sister and resentment against all others.

  To Caroline's assertion of her brother's being partial to Miss Darcy, she paid no credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she had ever done

  Much as she had always been disposed to like Mr. Bingley, she could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to the caprice of their inclination.

  Had his own happiness been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in whatever manner he thought best. As her sister was involved, she thought he must be sensible himself.

  It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing.

  She could think of nothing else. Whether Bingley's regard had died away or was suppressed by his friends' interference; whether he had been aware of Jane's attachment; whether it had escaped his observation. Whatever the case, though her opinion of him must be materially affected by the difference. Her sister's situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.

  A day or two passed before Jane dared to speak of her feelings to Elizabeth. Finally, Mrs. Bennet's left them together, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master.

  Jane could not help saying, "Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I will not be despondent. It cannot last long. He will be forgotten, and we shall all be as we were before."

  Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude but said nothing.

  "You doubt me," cried Jane, slightly colouring; "indeed, you have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time, therefore—I will certainly try to get the better."

  With a stronger voice, she soon added, "I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side. It has done no harm to anyone but myself."

  "My dear Jane!" exclaimed Elizabeth, "you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve."

  Miss Bennet disclaimed all extraordinary merit and threw back
the praise on her sister's warm affection.

  "Nay," said Elizabeth, "this is not fair. You wish to think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it. Every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense. I have met with two instances lately, one I will not mention, the other is Charlotte's marriage. It is unaccountable! In every view it is unaccountable!"

  "My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins's respectability, and Charlotte's steady, prudent character. Remember that she is one of a large family. As to fortune, it is a most suitable match. Be ready to believe, for everybody's sake, that she may feel something like regard and esteem for our cousin."

  "To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else could be benefited by such a belief as this. Were I persuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man. You know he is, as well as I do. You must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though it is Charlotte Lucas. You must not, for the sake of one individual, change the meaning of principle and integrity,. Nor endeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence and insensibility of danger security for happiness."

  "I must think your language too strong in speaking of both," replied Jane. "And I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing them happy together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You mentioned two instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking that person to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but our vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than it does."