by C. P. Odom
More pertinent to the fortune of the Bennet family was that, as Mr. Bennet’s nearest male relative and because of a curious facet of British law known as an entail, he was to inherit Longbourn and all its property upon Mr. Bennet’s quitting this mortal sphere. Mr. Bennet provided this and additional information by reading aloud his latest letter in which Mr. Collins stated he had been recently ordained and had the good fortune to be the recipient of an adequate living at the behest of a member of a noble family. The new clergyman stated his intention to visit and his further intention to attempt to heal the breach between his father and his cousin, for the two men had cordially loathed each other their entire lives. Mr. Collins expressed, but did not explain, his intention of making amends to the Bennet family, especially their daughters.
Jane could not discern how this unknown relative might make atonement but, with her usual sweet disposition, thought the offer was much to Mr. Collins’s credit. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was struck more by the man’s extraordinary deference to his patroness and his kind intention to demean himself by carrying out his clerical rites and ceremonies.
“He appears quite an oddity, I think. I cannot make him out,” Elizabeth said to her father after listening to the letter. “Can he be a sensible man?”
Mr. Bennet considered the possibility to be unlikely, and for that reason, considered it probable this servile and self-important young man would provide him considerable amusement. He was, after all, a critical observer, and Elizabeth’s nature tended to the same occupation.
Mary was of a different opinion. She did not consider the letter defective and believed Mr. Collins had expressed himself well. To Lydia and Kitty, of course, there could be no possible interest in a clergyman since their enthusiasm was only for officers of the regiment.
As for their mother, Mrs. Bennet had been attentive to the offer in Mr. Collins’s letter to make amends for the entail. Alone among her family, she correctly inferred that this unknown visitor proposed to marry one of her daughters, thus providing a home for the other Bennet females after the demise of their protector. To her, the words in the letter could have no other interpretation.
In the manner of finding husbands for her daughters, Mrs. Bennet possessed a degree of cleverness more akin to the supernatural than to any form of logic, and this capability was not at all matched by the more intelligent members of her family.
***
Mr. Collins arrived quite punctually, and he was received politely by the whole family, save Mr. Bennet, who said little. This was not an impediment, since Mrs. Bennet and her eldest daughter were ready enough to converse with him.
The tall, heavy-looking young man, on the order of five-and-twenty years, was not at all inclined to silence and spoke freely, though in a grave and stately manner.
He quickly demonstrated his propensity to both compliment and apologize. His gallantries toward the five sisters were not fully appreciated by the subjects of his praise, but Mrs. Bennet was not inclined to quarrel with any compliments to her daughters and received such in good humor, except she took the opportunity to complain of the entail. Mr. Collins was cautious on that subject, however, and he would say no more.
His proficiency at apologizing was equally well demonstrated during dinner when he complimented the excellence of the meal but then thoughtlessly inquired as to which of her daughters had prepared it. This raised Mrs. Bennet’s ire, and she was quick to state, with some asperity, that she kept a good cook and her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. Mr. Collins was quick to beg her pardon, and though she declared herself not offended, he continued to apologize for a quarter-hour.
***
While he had spoken seldom during dinner, Mr. Bennet had listened closely and afterwards took the opportunity to give his cousin a chance to exhibit and hopefully provide some diversion. His guest was more than equal to the challenge, especially when Mr. Bennet first observed that Mr. Collins seemed favored in his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and her consideration for his comfort appeared very remarkable.
“Oh yes, I could scarcely wish for a more fortunate situation,” Mr. Collins said enthusiastically since the subject inspired him to more than usual eloquence of praise. “I have never in my life witnessed such behavior in a person of rank as that displayed by Lady Catherine toward me. Such affability and condescension! She was pleased by both discourses I gave so far and has even asked me to dine at Rosings twice. I have heard she is reckoned proud by some, but I have never seen anything but affability in her, and she has always spoken to me as she would to any other gentleman. She even condescended to advise me to marry as soon as I could, provided I chose with discretion. She also toured my humble parsonage to observe my alterations and even went so far as to suggest some shelves be added to the closets upstairs.”
Mr. Collins went on to say more, and all of it was most laudatory to Lady Catherine and her daughter, who had the misfortune to be rather sickly and thus required to stay at home.
“Has she been presented?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “I do not remember her name among the ladies at court.”
“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town, and as I told Lady Catherine, her daughter’s misfortune has deprived the British court of its brightest ornament since she was clearly born to be a duchess. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I take care to pay.”
“It is a happy situation that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy,” Mr. Bennet said slyly. “May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment or whether they are the result of previous study?”
“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, though I do sometimes arrange little elegant compliments. But I always try to give these as unstudied an air as possible.”
Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment. He maintained at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance—save only for his occasional glances at Elizabeth, who seemed as amused as her father.
All too soon, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing room for tea. When it was over, he sought to distance himself from the man by suggesting he read aloud to the ladies. Unfortunately, when Mr. Collins chose to read from Fordyce’s Sermons, the younger ladies, especially Lydia, would not listen. Rather piqued at such disinterest, Mr. Collins offered himself to Mr. Bennet as an opponent at backgammon.
***
Tuesday, November 19, 1811
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Mr. Collins, being now in possession of a good house and a sufficient income, had journeyed to Longbourn with the intention of choosing a wife from among one of the daughters if he found them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. Since he possessed little in the way of common sense, he thought this an excellent plan, especially after being introduced to them.
Thus, during a tête-à-tête with Mrs. Bennet the following morning before breakfast, he opened the conversation by describing his parsonage house and the adequacies of his income before going on to relate his hope of finding a mistress for it at Longbourn.
“My thought was preference should naturally be given to the eldest of your daughters, and meeting them only confirmed to me the correctness of my intention.”
Mrs. Bennet was full of complaisant smiles and general encouragement since this was in accord with her fondest wishes. However, she struck a note of caution.
“I feel compelled to mention to you that my eldest, Jane, is likely to be engaged very soon. And the same is true for my next youngest, Elizabeth.”
Seeing the dismay on his face, she was quick to continue. “However, the same is not true for my younger daughters. I might take the opportunity
to mention my next eldest, Mary, who is often spoken of as being the most accomplished young lady in the neighborhood. In addition, she has read from Fordyce’s Sermons for Young Ladies, which I notice was your choice last night, had it not been for the rudeness of my youngest daughter, who is sometimes too lively.”
“Think nothing of it, madam. I understand completely.”
Thus, it was quickly done, with Mr. Collins’s interest switched from the two eldest to the middle daughter. Mrs. Bennet stirred the fire and treasured the thought of soon having three daughters married.
And the man, whom she originally could not bear to speak of just the day before, was now high in her good graces.
***
“Look!” Bingley said with animation. “There is Miss Bennet and her sisters.”
Both Darcy and McDunn followed Bingley’s finger to see he was right. The gentlemen were riding through Meryton on their way to Longbourn to inquire about the health of Miss Bennet.
“She appears in good health,” Darcy said as they headed for the group standing by the side of the road. “She and her sisters have clearly walked from their home.”
Lydia had originally made the suggestion of walking to Meryton, and her sisters were not opposed. Their father had been quick to encourage Mr. Collins to accompany them since he was desirous of having his library to himself. He had been unable to rid himself of his cousin since breakfast, and this seemed an excellent way to do so. Mr. Collins had no opposition to the plan since he was really much better fitted for walking than reading.
Mary had originally intended to stay home, but Mrs. Bennet urged her to go with her sisters. So, rather unwillingly, Mary accompanied them, only to find herself the target of conversation by her father’s cousin during the walk. Mary was not well acquainted with social discourse, but she had early discovered that merely listening could not get her in much trouble. It served her well on this occasion since Mr. Collins required little encouragement to talk.
***
Tuesday, November 19, 1811
Meryton, Hertfordshire
Upon entering Meryton, the younger two sisters looked up and down the street in search of officers, with immediate results in the form of Lieutenant Denny on the other side of the road with a young man they had not seen before. His presence was most interesting to all the young ladies and theirs to the young men, so after some maneuvering, a meeting was accomplished.
After an exchange of greetings, Lieutenant Denny said, “If I might, ladies, I would beg your permission to introduce my friend Mr. Wickham. I have just returned from town as you know, and I enticed my friend to accompany me and, I am happy to say, to accept a commission in our corps.”
Lydia and Kitty were highly pleased to hear such of this young man who presented a most gentlemanlike appearance and only wanted regimentals to make him completely charming. All the ladies found his appearance to be greatly in his favor, combining the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, and a good figure. He possessed, in addition, a pleasing and gentlemanly address and quickly showed an ease and command of amiable conversation.
The whole party was talking together agreeably when the sound of horses drew their notice. They looked up to see Bingley and his two guests riding down the street and obviously headed their way.
“Ah, Miss Bennet, ladies!” Bingley exclaimed, removing his hat with a sweep of his arm and bowing from the saddle. “We were riding to Longbourn to enquire after your health, Miss Bennet, but I am pleased to see you are in fine spirits.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jane said, returning his bow with a curtsey, as did her sisters. She was about to make introductions when Darcy’s eyes were arrested suddenly by the sight of the new friend of Lieutenant Denny.
Mr. Wickham immediately touched the brim of his hat and said simply, “Darcy.”
Despite his surprise—a most unwelcome one—Darcy said in reply, “Wickham,” giving a nod and touching his brim. “I thought you remained in town,” he said, and would have said more if not for Lydia’s interruption.
“Lieutenant Denny just told us Mr. Wickham accompanied him from town and is going to accept a commission in the regiment!” she said breathlessly.
“I see,” was Darcy’s only comment, and Jane then proceeded to complete all introductions.
Bingley and his friends stayed for only a few minutes of conversation before making their farewells and continuing their ride. The party resumed speaking with Denny and Wickham quite amiably, but Elizabeth idly wondered how Darcy and Wickham knew each other.
They do not seem as though they are particularly acquainted, she thought. They must hail from similar backgrounds. Perhaps they met at Cambridge.
For herself, she did not know whether she was sorry or relieved Darcy had not spoken to her.
***
Once beyond Meryton, McDunn turned to Darcy. “I got the distinct impression of a certain coolness between you and this Wickham.”
Darcy nodded. “In truth, I have known George Wickham since we were boys, McDunn. His father was a fine man who had the stewardship of Pemberley during my own father’s life. He was quite taken with young Wickham, who was his godson, and even supported him at school and later at Cambridge, neither of which Wickham’s own father could have afforded.”
McDunn digested that for a bit, looking over at Bingley, who also listened. Finally, McDunn said, “Stop me if this is none of my business, but was I correct that you weren’t particularly pleased to see him today?”
Darcy gave an immediate nod. “You are indeed correct, and such is an understatement. At one time, Wickham and I were fast friends, playing together and fishing and hunting all over Pemberley. But he changed as he got older, and not to my liking. He began to show a preference for the most improper, indeed licentious, behavior, especially at Cambridge and afterwards. My father, however, never discerned any of this for he could not see what I saw, and Wickham remained high in his esteem until Father died. He even wished Wickham might find a place in the church, planning to provide for him in it and even saying as much in his will. I was not at all pleased since I knew the church was no place for a man like Wickham, and I could only accede to the wishes of my father with reluctance.”
“It doesn’t appear he joined the church, not if he took a commission in the militia.”
“No, it does not, and I wonder about his commission. I am not sure you know this, but officers in the militia are not paid. They usually come from the noble or gentry classes, and are assumed to have money, either themselves or from their families. I believe they even provide their own horses and uniforms. That makes no sense with Wickham since I do not think he has any money.”
“No money?” Bingley asked. “The cut of his clothes bespeaks a gentleman. I assumed he had at least some money.”
“None at all,” Darcy replied. “He received a bequest from my father’s will of a thousand pounds, but he came to me within half a year, pleading to be given a cash award rather than waiting for the living of our family parsonage to become vacant. I assumed he had exhausted his bequest, so we made a bargain in which I gave him three thousand pounds, and he resigned all claim to assistance in the church. I was glad to do so since, as I said, I believed Wickham should not be a clergyman. It was the last I saw of him for some three years, when the living at our parsonage became vacant. Then who should appear but Wickham, asking for the presentation of the living to which he had resigned all claim. It seems he spent all his money in less than four years.”
“Four thousand pounds in such a short time?” Bingley said in shock. “How did a single young man spend so much so fast?”
“I assume on wine, women, and song,” Darcy said dismissively. “I already thought so ill of him that I would not admit his acquaintance in town or invite him to Pemberley. So I had him thrown off Pemberley land with a warning not to return, and I have not
seen him since. In fact, I thought him gone from my life completely.”
“As they say, a bad penny always seems to turn up,” Bingley said, which drew a bitter laugh from Darcy.
“Exactly, Bingley, exactly.”
To all of this, McDunn could only give silent thanks that Darcy had decided against an establishment for his sister, especially since the summer just passed had been the time during which Wickham’s attempted seduction was supposed to have occurred.
A deviation from the novel I would have prevented had it proved necessary, McDunn thought. And I wouldn’t have felt the slightest tinge of guilt, even if I’d had to invent a sudden desire to visit that seaside town and deal with the handsome Mr. George Wickham personally. With extreme prejudice.
***
Wednesday, November 20, 1811
Meryton, Hertfordshire
On the following afternoon, Mr. Bennet’s carriage conveyed his five daughters and his cousin to their engagement at their aunt’s home. Mrs. Philips, Mrs. Bennet’s sister, was married to a solicitor in Meryton, and she had been glad to see her nieces when they had called on her the previous day. She had been particularly happy to see Jane since she had not known of her recovery from her illness and her return to Longbourn.
Mr. Collins had been introduced when they arrived, and Mrs. Philips received him with her best civility, which he returned with many apologies for not having any previous acquaintance with her. She informed all of them of her plan to have a party, including a few of the officers, at her house the following day for games and a bit of hot supper afterward. She graciously included Mr. Collins, and after hearing of the new arrival in Meryton who was to have a commission in the militia, she promised to have her husband call on the regiment and extend him an invitation.
As a result, when the girls now entered their aunt’s drawing room, they had the pleasure of hearing that Wickham was even then in the house.
