Chapter Thirteen
If one wished to know how Mrs Bennet felt about Jane, it could be summed up in her seating arrangements. At the table, Jane found herself between Mr Collins and Meryton’s elderly and half-deaf parson, Mr Abbot.
Jane, however, did not repine, for she actually wished to take Mr Collins’s measure, and this would be the perfect opportunity.
She soon learned that Mr Abbot found it exhausting to constantly ask people to raise their voice and repeat themselves, and so was content to enjoy his meal without conversing.
From around him, she could hear the conversation of Mrs Collins and several others easily, and so she felt that her night would be both entertaining and informative.
“So, Mr Collins, my host and her sisters tell me that you enjoy not only the blessing of a very fine wife, but also a most enviable position, and a generous patroness,” Jane opened the conversation as the soup was served.
“How kind my cousin Mrs Bingley is to be so courteous about my wife and also my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. You’ve heard of her, I presume?” he replied.
“Of course,” Jane encouraged him to keep speaking.
Mr Collins began to eat with gusto, then at a light, feminine cough from the other side of Mr Abbot, checked himself and then slowed his pace politely.
“Until I married, I relied on my patroness in nearly all things, Miss Jane. I will not lie and say that I was in any way suited to living in a house such as my parsonage alone. My mother died when I was a lad, and my father never remarried, so I can barely recall her feminine touch about our home. And as a bachelor, I never even knew what to order for my dinner. Can you believe I was practically living on nursery food! And there were matters in my parish as well, Miss Jane, matters beneath the dignity of my patroness–but still–requiring a woman’s experience and understanding.
My patroness told me, ‘Collins, you must marry. Choose a gentlewoman, for my sake, and for your own, and let her be an active, useful sort of person. Not brought up too high, but able to make a small income go a long way.’”
“Well, as you can imagine, Miss Jane, first I considered my cousins, for taking into account the entail, and my cousin’s affairs being settled so oddly, I thought to make a sort of amends to his daughters by selecting one of them.
It was my cousin Elizabeth who enlightened me that though my cousins are all charming, amiable creatures, we are all better off as cousins.
And having them all as the good friends of my dear Charlotte, that can only be another blessing. ”
“So your patroness approves of your choice then?” Jane encouraged him to continue.
“Approves? Miss Jane, I do not believe that either Lady Catherine nor I expected me to find such a jewel as my dear Charlotte. She fulfills every point of merit laid down by my patroness! As the daughter of a knight who rose above his station, my dear Charlotte perfectly comprehends the difficulty I face, and assists me in my course of self-improvement and in my work in the parish of Hunsford. In addition to that, she has turned our humble parsonage into an inviting and most comfortable home! She also is very genteel and patient, virtues that one must possess in abundance when often in company with Lady Catherine. I confess I used to be rather a nervous creature, but since my dear wife has taken my affairs and home in hand, I find myself much calmer, and a great deal happier.”
“It sounds as if Proverbs 18:22 was prophetic for you, Mr Collins.” Jane looked around her other partner and smiled at Mrs Collins. “He who finds a wife, finds what is good, and receives favour from the Lord.”
“I had not considered that proverb lately, Miss Jane, but of course you are correct! I cannot help having felt immeasurably blessed since our nuptials.” Collins sampled his wine.
“How lovely for you, and for Mrs Collins.” Jane slowly sipped soup from her spoon and then continued. “I know that Miss Bennet enjoyed her visit to your home in Kent last spring very much, and that she was gratified indeed to find you and Mrs Collins enjoying such contentment and domestic utopia.”
“Cousin Elizabeth is far too good. A kinder and more generous cousin never lived! I am pleased to know that she will have the protection and devotion of the nephew of my own patroness. I admit, I was at first concerned for my cousin, for my patroness always claimed that Mr Darcy was engaged to her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh, the rare and delicate flower of Kent. But my wife encouraged me that instead of writing to my patroness, I ought to apply directly to Mr Darcy, and so I did. I had no expectation of such generosity, but can you believe he commended me for having the courage to speak up on behalf of my cousin and his, especially to a man connected to those who could make my life, and by extension my wife’s, distinctly uncomfortable?
I now understand that the grief my patroness bears at the thought of her daughter being unable to safely bear children due to her health makes the reality of the matter quite difficult for her to accept.
I am exceedingly grateful that I never wrote to Lady Catherine when I learned of the betrothal, for to have her turn up here in a rage would be terrifying indeed. ”
Lady Catherine is not coming? How disappointing.
She was almost irritated at Mrs Collins for having so much success in making her husband reasonable.
That being said, Jane was happy that the man spoke more of his admiration for his wife than that for his patroness.
She breathed a sigh of relief that she need feel no guilt on the matter of Charlotte Collins.
As Mr Collins turned to his other dinner partner, his father-in-law, Jane looked over the rest of the table with interest.
Miss Mary was seated between Miss Darcy and Mr Rupert Hurst, was conversing animatedly with the gentleman about the needs of his parish.
Jane smiled. She had told Mary the man would remember himself.
Mr Crawford was seated between Mrs Bennet and Kitty.
Mrs Bennet was lauding the virtues and beauty of her fourth daughter at length, to her daughter’s horror and Mr Crawford’s boredom.
It was obvious that the man would rather have been seated next to Elizabeth.
Jane wondered if the young man actually wished to take her young heroine from her hero, or if he were merely tweaking Darcy’s nose.
One could hardly help the suspicion, considering that the young man had declared himself heartbroken within seconds of learning she was betrothed.
Which was before the two had even enjoyed a conversation.
Some men only want what belongs to another, Jane recalled her own brother Charles telling her once. Good luck turning Elizabeth–or any lady–from Darcy.
Lydia was sulking between Mr Bennet and Mrs Annesley.
An odd placement for the space at the master’s left hand, but rather clever of Mrs Bennet to use the placement of another girl’s companion to keep her own daughter in line.
She was not placing the other woman in charge of her daughter for the night, exactly.
But by seating Lydia the way she had, she gave the girl no one to speak to, other than her own father, and a person who would only converse with her about the most appropriate topics.
Lydia was being a tad rude, speaking around Mrs Annesley, asking Miss Darcy pointed, and rather resentful questions about her education, accomplishments, and wardrobe.
Lydia seemed to resent Miss Darcy for her privilege and endless talents, but yet could not resist her interest. Miss Darcy was patient and unfailingly polite and proper, driving Lydia nearly mad with her perfection. I wonder where that will lead.
Miss Crawford was between Colonel Fitzwilliam, whom Mrs Bennet had given up on as completely romantically disinterested in her daughters, and Mrs Hurst, to whom Miss Crawford spoke about shopping in town and fashion.
She gave most of her attention to the colonel, flirting as outrageously with him as she did Mr Rupert Hurst. Jane looked to Mr Hurst, wondering if he would notice the artful defection of the woman who had demanded his attention quite shamelessly since she arrived among them, but he looked entirely absorbed by his conversation with Miss Mary.
“I believe you have kept her far too long, Jane.” Mrs Bennet’s voice carried from the far end of the table.
“You have assumed that this woman is quality just because of the clothes she wore when you found her, but she could have been wearing a borrowed gown then just as easily as she is now. Or worse, a stolen gown.”
Jane could not hear Mrs Bingley’s hushed response from that end of the table.
But she saw Mr Darcy, seated at Mrs Bennet’s right, bend towards his hostess, and begin whispering intently to her.
Mrs Bennet’s brow furrowed, and she looked down the table at Jane frequently as she listened to her future son-in-law.
Her brow then rose high, and she regarded Mr Darcy with astonishment.
Jane wondered what he was telling his bride’s mother, but whatever it was, Elizabeth appeared relieved that her mother had quieted.
The other guests, Mr and Mr Gardiner, the Phillipses, the Gouldings, the Longs, and the Lucases were dispersed amongst the others, and Jane hoped to speak more with the Gardiners when they returned to the drawing room.
Jane gave her attention to the next course until Mr Collins turned to her and asked, “So, Miss Jane, do you read sermons?”