“Mrs. Philips very kindly entertained me by playing all the evening with me at whist. I was entirely ignorant of the game, and know full little of it, at present," said he, "but I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation of life——"
Lydia interrupted at this point by very rudely remarking that he must be very eager to improve his situation in life, having lost so much to her aunt during the course of the evening.
But not even Lydia could stem the flow.
“I know very well, madam," he retorted, "that when persons sit down to a card table, they must take their chance of these things,—and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters, although I should not expect to have to make such an observation in reply to a remark from such a very young lady.”
Exit Lydia, pursued by a bore, and exeunt omnes, very glad to have that weary day done with.
Chapter Nineteen An Invitation
Thanks to the miraculous name of his patron, our visitor proved more manageable for the rest of his stay, but ‘manageable’ is not the same as ‘free from trouble’.
He might as well not have been there when Mr. Bingley and his sisters arrived from Netherfield to invite us all to the ball that was at last preparing. They neither noticed nor spoke to him, but at least that was no more than the courtesy they extended to most of us.
The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet and me as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother, who, indeed, had scarcely managed to say a word since his arrival, by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's civilities.
They had, perforce, included Mr. Collins in the invitation, and it diverted me excessively to observe that Elizabeth's spirits were so high on the occasion, that though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to dance.
"I am by no means of opinion, I assure you," said he, "that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening, and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially,—a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her."
It was obvious to all (except Mr. Collins, naturally) that Elizabeth now felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being engaged by Wickham for those very dances:—and to have Mr. Collins instead! her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no help for it however. Mr. Wickham's happiness and her own was per force delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins's proposal accepted with as good a grace as she could. She was not at all pleased, but she bore up and hid it well, and, indeed, it was a calamity she had brought upon herself by being too clever.
It was as well that Mr. Bingley had made the effort to call upon us, though I cannot think why he should think it necessary to call in person, when the invitation could just as easily have been conveyed by his sisters. If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, my younger daughters would have been in a pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after;—the very shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of her patience in weather, which totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday, endurable to Kitty and Lydia.
Chapter Twenty Tread we a Measure
Like so many good things that have been long awaited, the Netherfield Ball turned out a disappointment in the end.
I make no statements on behalf of the Bingleys, nor of the chief of the guests, who seemed well enough pleased with the event. Mr. Darcy, of course, always looks disappointed with his company, wherever he may be, so I can make no claims for him, either. But for the Bennet family- or at least those of them turned twenty- it was, I fear, a very unsatisfactory occasion.
Lizzy, of course, had to dance with Mr. Collins, twice. They were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. From the look on her face the moment of her release from him was ecstasy.
To add to her discontent, her favourite, Mr. Wickham, never turned up at all, and she was forced to dance with Mr. Darcy, of all men, whom she had made it quite plain that she detested, and who, from my observations, took quite as little pleasure in his pair of cotillions as she did.
She had scarce survived this ordeal when Mr. Collins came to speak to us, his manner conveying great urgency. Lizzy hastily started scribbling names in her programme, so that she might have proof of being unable to oblige with another dance. But it was something entirely different about which Mr.Collins was exercised.
“I have found out," said he, "by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of this house the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with—perhaps—a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology."
"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?"
"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine's nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'night."
I had nothing to say on the matter. I could hardly reveal the relish with which I looked forward to such a scene. Elizabeth, however, tried hard to dissuade him from his scheme; assuring him that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance.
Mr. Collins listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination, and when she ceased speaking, replied thus,
"My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your understanding, but permit me to say that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for give me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom—provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit b
y your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like yourself."
And with a low bow he left us to attack Mr. Darcy, whose reception of his advances we eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. Our cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow, and though we could not hear a word of it, Lizzy obviously felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words "apology," "Hunsford," and "Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
I could see that it vexed her to see him expose himself to such a man quite as much as it amused me. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy's contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way.
Mr. Collins then returned to us.
"I have no reason, I assure you," said he, "to be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying, that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine's discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”
The evening’s diversion did not end there, however. We presently sat down to supper, and Mrs. Bennet would be talking, in a very loud voice and to all who would listen, of Jane’s shortly becoming the mistress of the place. Jane herself, good girl, made nothing of this, and continued cheerful as ever, on the surface, at least, but I could see Lizzy becoming more and more restless.
When we all sat down, Mrs. Bennet was talking to Lady Lucas freely, openly, and of nothing else but of her expectation that Jane would be soon married to Mr. Bingley. It was an animating subject, and she seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; and lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs. Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it.
In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
"What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear."
"For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing.”
I observed Darcy myself while all this was going on. The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and steady gravity, and I thought to myself, “There is one who will never be our friend, but at least he cannot prevent the growth of a true affection.”
For I still believed that Bingley was genuinely taken with my Jane, as who should not be?
Further amusement was provided after the break by Mary, for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and Mary, after very little entreaty, was very prepared to oblige the company. Such an opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. My third daughter is a conscientious worker, and never neglects her practice, but I fear has no great talent for the instrument. Her irregular timing, misplaced notes and distressingly flat voice may be borne with only by the partiality of relatives and the extremity of polite patience on the part of the disinterested auditor. This patience, I fear was but very ill rewarded at the close of her song; for Mary, on receiving amongst the thanks of the table, the merest hint of a hope that she might be prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute began another. Mary's powers were by no means fitted for such a display; her voice was weak, and her manner affected.
She was not well received by the chief of her auditors, and Elizabeth was clearly in agonies. She looked at Jane, to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued however impenetrably grave. She looked at me to entreat my interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. I took the hint, and pity on her, and when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,
"That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."
Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; but this provided the opportunity for others of the party to be now applied to.
"If I," said Mr. Collins, "were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean however to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards every body, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards any body connected with the family."
And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room. Many stared. Many smiled; but no one could have been more amused than I was myself, especially when my wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for having spoken so sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.
For my own part, the evening had provided as good a share of entertainment as had come my way in a long while, almost worth the effort of jostling in the coach to Netherfield and standing around the whole interminable evening with nothing to do but to suffer fools.
I can quite see, however, how others might hold different opinions, and I could not help feeling for poor Jane, whose cause the evening in no way appeared to further.
Chapter Twenty-One A Stern Choice
The morning after the Netherfield ball, I made sure to shut myself in my library at the first opportunity. It was now the tenth day of Mr. Collins’s visit, and he had ceased to trouble me in my sequestration, having at last learned that such an action was congenial to neither of us.
There I looked forward to a tranquil morning in the company of the ancients, and made the most of my leisure. There seemed to be a lot of scurrying up and down stairs, and opening and closing of doors, and sundry female squeaks and titters, but I resolutely refused to be drawn by all these. I had done my duty the pr
evious night, and attended a ball which had delivered none of the promised delight to those at whose insistence I had taken the trouble. It had provided me with a little diversion, true, but I declined to be involved in any further entanglements which might arise from the injured feelings of the remainder of my party.
I could no longer feign either indifference or absence, however, when Mrs. Bennet burst into the room, seeming vastly discomposed, even by her own, rather generous, standards.
“Oh! Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have her."
I raised my eyes from my book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with, I sincerely hope, a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication.
"I have not the pleasure of understanding you," said I, when she had finished her speech. "To what are you referring?"
"To Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy."
"And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopeless business."
“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him."
"Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion."
Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the library.
"Come here, child," I cried as she appeared.
"I have sent for you on an affair of some importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?"
Elizabeth replied that it was.
"Very well—and this offer of marriage you have refused?"
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