Pride and Prejudice
case is this:--we are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she
is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion
that when there has been _one_ inter-marriage, she may have less trouble
in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I
dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my
dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that, because Miss Bingley
tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest
degree less sensible of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on
Tuesday; or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead
of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”
“If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your
representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the
foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving
anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived
herself.”
“That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you
will not take comfort in mine: believe her to be deceived, by all means.
You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.”
“But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in
accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry
elsewhere?”
“You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature
deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is
more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you,
by all means, to refuse him.”
“How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling; “you must know, that,
though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could
not hesitate.”
“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider
your situation with much compassion.”
“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be
required. A thousand things may arise in six months.”
The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost
contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s
interested wishes; and she could not for a moment suppose that those
wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man
so totally independent of everyone.
She represented to her sister, as forcibly as possible, what she felt on
the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect.
Jane’s temper was not desponding; and she was gradually led to hope,
though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that
Bingley would return to Netherfield, and answer every wish of her heart.
They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the
family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct;
but even this partial communication gave her 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.
CHAPTER XXII.
The Bennets were 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. This was
very amiable; but Charlotte’s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth
had any conception of:--its object was nothing less than to secure her
from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging them towards
herself. Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and appearances were so
favourable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost
sure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon.
But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his
character; for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next
morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw
himself at her 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, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging,
he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. His
reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas
perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and
instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had
she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.
In as short a time as Mr. Collins’s long speeches would allow,
everything 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 waived 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. Lady Lucas began directly to calculate, with more
interest than the matter had ever
excited before, how many years longer Mr. Bennet was likely to live; and
Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins
should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly
expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at St.
James’s. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the
occasion. The younger girls formed hopes of _coming out_ a year or two
sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved
from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte
herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time
to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr.
Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable: his society was
irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would
be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony,
marriage had always been her object: it was the only honourable
provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and, however
uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative
from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of
twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good
luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the
surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she
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 a disapprobation. She resolved
to give her the information herself; and therefore charged Mr. Collins,
when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had
passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very
dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the
curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct
questions on his return, as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was
at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to
publish his prosperous love.
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 they should be to see him at Longbourn again,
whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit them.
“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.”
They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for
so speedy a return, 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 anything 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 hers, he might become a very
agreeable companion. 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.
The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her
friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two: but
that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility
as that she could encourage him herself; and her astonishment was
consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and
she could not help 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 a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a
reproach; though, as it was no more than she expected, 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?”