A Mutual Accord

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

“ I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a good dinner today,” said Mr Bennet at the breakfast table a few days after Jane and Elizabeth’s return to Longbourn. “For I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”

“Whoever can you mean, Mr Bennet?” inquired his wife. “I know of no one who is expected unless Charlotte Lucas drops in, and I do hope my dinners are good enough for her. She certainly does not see such fine fare at her mother’s table. Or perhaps Mr Bingley! What dreadful luck! There will not be a bit of fish to be had. Ring the bell, Mary; I must speak with Hill.”

Mr Bennet smiled wickedly. “It is not Charlotte, nor Mr Bingley, though I give you leave to invite them both as often as you please. No, it is a person I have never seen once in the whole of my life.” This naturally roused a great clamour of interest by his wife and all five of his daughters, and so, well pleased to have their undivided attention for once, he settled back into his chair with his coffee to relate the information to them. “I received this letter about a month ago, and about a fortnight ago, I sent a reply, considering it a matter of some delicacy, and requiring prompt attention. It is from my cousin, Mr Collins, who, if you recall, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases,” he finished mischievously.

“Mr Bennet pray do not talk of that odious man coming here! I cannot bear to hear such a person mentioned. It is the hardest thing in the world that your estate should be entailed away from your own girls! Lady Lucas quite agrees, you should have done something about it!” Fanny Bennet wailed.

Thomas Bennet agreed with his wife that it was an abominable situation, but advised her to hear the letter, for perhaps her opinion might change upon meeting the man. Mrs Bennet declared that this was hogwash, and decried the man as a villain for existing at all. Mr Bennet, however, insisted upon reading the letter aloud.

Hunsford,

Near Westerham, Kent,

Dear Sir,

The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance. My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England.

As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds, I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it – as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends – but of this hereafter. I shall write no more of my hopes, but assure your daughters in the most complimentary terms that I come prepared to admire them. If you should have no objection to receiving me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November first, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday night following, which I can do without any inconvenience, for Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.

I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,

William Collins

“And so, my dear, we shall have the honour of receiving this peacemaking gentleman at four o’clock,” finished Mr Bennet, folding the letter and slipping it into his pocket. “I am certain that you will find him to be an invaluable acquaintance.”

“Can he be a sensible man, Papa?” Elizabeth asked.

“I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse,” her father answered her. “Though just because he does not sound particularly intelligent does not mean he is a bad man. It will certainly not do us any harm to be on good terms with him.”

“The letter is not defective in composition. The offering of an olive branch is not particularly original, though it is well expressed,” said Mary. “He sounds as if he has good intentions, and that is what is important.”

“One must wonder by what means he intends to make amends to us, though it is to his credit that he wishes to do so,” remarked Jane.

“It is perfectly obvious, is it not, Mr Bennet?” asked Mrs Bennet. “The gentleman states plainly that he is prepared to admire you . He is a single man, with the patronage of a great lady, and the expectation of a gentleman’s inheritance. He has a living already, and at his age, too! He cannot be more than what, Mr Bennet, five or six and twenty? He was but a babe, I remember you telling me, when we wed. To have a comfortable living, already,” she marvelled. “It is perfectly obvious that the man comes in want of a wife.”

Elizabeth and her sisters argued with their mother, but nothing they said would spoil her excitement. Mr Bennet, content with his morning’s work on his wife’s nerves, winked at his second daughter and took himself off to his book room, as his wife rushed from the breakfast room, shouting, “Hill! Hill!” Elizabeth shook her head as he went, wishing that her father had given them even one more day’s notice. Now the girls would spend the day running up and down the stairs preparing the house at Mrs Bennet’s hysterical direction.

The gentleman was extremely punctual, and arrived precisely at four o’clock. The family greeted him in a friendly manner, and he responded in kind. It was obvious that the man was utterly ridiculous, but in a harmless way. He was slightly heavier than one might wish in a young gentleman, but there was nothing disgusting about him. His appearance looked slightly unkempt, but the attention of a caring wife ought to put such matters to rights. Elizabeth certainly had no interest in him – she required some intelligence in her future partner – but her younger sisters might prefer a silly husband, as others had done before them. Elizabeth had heard a few of the local matrons whispering that such men might be irritating, but they could be easily led.

Mrs Bennet immediately ended the man’s attentions to Jane, and he instantly settled upon Elizabeth next. Elizabeth spent the evening rebuffing him, only for him to continue on in his stupidity. He took tea in the parlour briefly with the family, enjoying more cake than was good for him, then retired to his room to change and rest after his journey. Dinner was a misery, and though Mary attempted to interest him in a discussion of theology, he barely noticed her. After dinner, he read from Fordyce for nearly two hours, not noticing that his only audience was Mary. Mr Bennet had abandoned them for his book room, Mrs Bennet was nodding off, and Kitty and Lydia were dead asleep. Elizabeth and Jane were pretending to be attentive, but each was off in her own world, until finally the man snapped his book closed, and Mrs Bennet hastily bid them all a good night, waking the younger girls, and herding them upstairs, as her other daughters followed.

As they went up to bed, Elizabeth pulled Jane by the elbow quietly, and followed Kitty and Lydia into their room. "Whatever do you want, Lizzy, you never come in for a chat," said Lydia in surprise.

Elizabeth spoke, "Tomorrow morning you are going to bring your best dresses to Mary's room, and finally, we are going to give her the assistance she needs in learning what colours and styles suit her best. We should have done it long ago, really."

Lydia laughed, "La, Lizzy, as if I'd let plain old Mary wear my gowns."

"You will, and you will allow her to until Mr Collins proposes, or Mama buys her new gowns," Elizabeth insisted.

The two went back and forth for a few moments, with Lydia declaring that she planned to marry first, and would not help with the scheme.

"Lydia Harriet Bennet, do not be a silly child," Elizabeth scolded. "Of course it does not matter which of us marries first. We are none of us rivals. The heir to our home is here, and one of us actually wishes to be courted by him! May I point out that if Mary is unsuccessful, Mama is going to insist one of us attempts to catch him. You and I are the most likely to be the focus of that endeavour, Kitty, and may I point out that we are both eminently unsuitable for it. If one of us actually wants to marry him, the rest of us should assist her by any means necessary. It is unlikely that all of us will be able to marry for love or inclination, so we ought to be helping each other when the opportunity presents itself for any of us."

Kitty then demanded that Lydia do as Elizabeth bid. When Lydia objected, Kitty was insistent. "I will not be sacrificed to that man by Mama just because you are not willing to help Mary. You will help us in assisting our sister and her potential savior in the morning, or I will tell Papa you were too immodest and forward with the officers when we met them in the village last week, and that you ought to go back into the nursery." Elizabeth was impressed. As far as sibling extortion went, that was a very good threat.

"Lydia, Kitty follows you in everything, so if she went to Papa with concerns of your behaviour, he would be very likely to take notice," said Jane.

"In any case, Lydia, it is good that you will be helping, because you are the best at discovering the most becoming colours and styles. Just do not become too excited. Mary will still want to be modest in her attire. We must help her find becoming colours and styles that need minimal lace or embellishment because if we make her feel like a spectacle, she will baulk," Elizabeth rationed. "And you must be kind to her. She is in a distressing time, and does not need your teasing or cruel words. If you want us to come together to help you when you need it, then you must do so for us, Lydia. This is supposed to be what sisters are for."

Lydia, placated by the compliment of being the best at fashion, began an animated discussion with Kitty about which of their gowns would be right for Mary, and what bonnets they could pull apart to match them. Elizabeth and Jane went to Mary's room next.

"Are you well, dearest? We could see that you would welcome Mr Collins' attentions, so we are here to help," said Jane as she sat next to Mary on her bed.

"It matters not whether I would, since he has selected Lizzy already," answered Mary listlessly.

"Mr Collins is the type of man who has no idea what he wants, and must be led there. He will be yours if you want him, Mary. If it is the last thing I do, he will. Tomorrow morning, Kitty and Lydia will help us find you some pretty new gowns to wear. Jane, who is as skilled with hair as Lydia, is going to help you find a new style that suits you. After breakfast, I shall suggest a walk into town, where we shall all go except you, Mary, who will stay home to practise your accomplishments. During the walk, I will make certain of Mr Collins' regard for you. I predict that by the time we return home, he will be quite ready to court you," Elizabeth declared.

"Lizzy, I will not allow Kitty and Lydia to paint me like a doll. That is vanity and it's a sin!" exclaimed Mary.

"Mary, The Lord is not going to be angry with you for wearing yellow. He made you beautiful, and I am sure will not approve of you hiding it under grey gowns and spectacles you do not need. It is not necessary to get too excited with ribbons and lace, but there is nothing wrong with wearing shades that go well with your colouring," Elizabeth rebutted. As Mary made to argue again, Elizabeth burst out, "For heaven's sake, Mary, do you believe that Jane is vain or wicked?"

"Well no, of course our Jane could never be so," faltered Mary.

"Well as you know, our Jane is the loveliest of us all, and she does not hide under grey gowns. Do you believe she is vain or wicked because she knows she looks well in blue, and wears it often?"

"Of course not! Jane, I would never think that!" cried Mary. "I did not consider it that way."

"Of course you did not, Mary," soothed Elizabeth. "So you see, if Jane can be lovely, and not wicked or vain, then you can be also. We shall be visiting your room very early tomorrow morning. I predict that Mr Collins will return from our walk into Meryton quite ready to know you once his path has been illuminated for him. Then it will be up to you, and we shall help you any way we can," Elizabeth promised.