Chapter 31 The Proposal
The Proposal
The idea of Mr Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing, that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further, and he continued:
“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly–which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness…
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“Mr Collins! Pray allow me to briefly interrupt. I have a very important question to ask,” Elizabeth snapped in as close to a shout as she could manage without sounding like Lydia.
She was more than a little surprised when Mr Collins actually ceased speaking and looked befuddled.
Of course, befuddlement seemed like his natural state, so there was no surprise there; but the fact that he stopped talking was unprecedented.
Even a reduction in stridency would have been a welcome relief, but silence was pure bliss.
Feeling a need to strike while the iron was hot, she continued without pause.
“I know you only briefly met Mr Darcy, but you must have heard a great deal about him.”
“Of course I have. He is the distinguished nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. His reputation precedes him. He is the very best of men! In fact—”
“Mr Collins!” she snapped before he could quite resume.
He paused for breath, so she once again jumped into the breach.
“Here is my question, and I think it an especially important—nay, critical—one. Even though you do not actually know the gentleman well, would you agree you know of him well enough to consider him a sensible man, a man worthy of following?”
“Naturally, I would hope I could follow just a tenth part of his lead, for although I believe the clergy to be the equal of the highest—”
“Yes, yes… but pray, allow me to finish,” she snapped before he could begin another rant.
Although she ruefully admitted that she could probably avoid a proposal by simply allowing him to talk while she retreated to the kitchen for refreshment, she thought that would only delay the inevitable, and she really wanted to nip it in the bud.
Collins looked somewhat sullen about being interrupted yet again, but Elizabeth was in no mood for placation.
“Allow me to suggest how you might emulate the great man,” she said, feeling proud of herself for saying the words without sniggering or giggling.
She drew a deep breath.
“Last night, Mr Darcy took the trouble to explain that he believed he had, quite by accident, shown me enough marked attention to possibly create expectations. He therefore devoted a few minutes at the end of the evening to explain to me, quite politely I might add, that he would not be offering for me. He apologised for any expectations he may have inadvertently raised. Once that unpleasantness was concluded, at my request, he explained why I would not be suitable.”
Collins looked dumbstruck. “You cannot possibly have entertained expectations for such a great man.”
Elizabeth tried her best not to laugh and mostly succeeded. “I see you already endeavour to follow the gentleman. That is good. No, I had no expectations. To be honest, I do not even like him, so his rejection is no hardship.”
She watched Collins carefully to ensure he did not swoon, as seemed quite possible.
“You cannot possibly mean that! He is—”
She snapped angrily, “Mr Collins! I insist you allow me my own opinions. Insofar as you are concerned, my liking or disliking the man is neither here nor there. I only raised the subject because you both have similar problems, and I thought you would be more likely to follow his lead for a proper solution than mine.”
Collins once again looked completely lost, so Elizabeth did not allow him to catch his breath.
“He did explain why I was unsuitable, and whilst I cannot enjoy his reasoning, it is his prerogative to determine what he seeks in a wife. He has been in society for a decade or more, with plenty of time to consider his priorities, rather than simply making love to the first woman who caught his fancy. It is not very romantic, but it is sensible. That, sir, is where I suggest you follow his lead.”
“What do you mean?”
“Much like Mr Darcy, since your arrival, you have paid me enough attention that I might have expectations if I were inclined towards the position of a parson’s wife—”
She crossed her fingers out of sight for the slight fib.
Elizabeth would be perfectly happy to be a parson’s wife, and might well be one someday, so long as the parson was not her cousin.
However, there seemed little profit in pressing the point, and even less for pointing out that she liked him even less than Mr Darcy.
“You, sir, are probably now feeling obliged by your incautious approach. I suggest you adopt Mr Darcy’s method and simply explain rationally that you were mistaken to pay me so much attention. We will resolve the issue amicably, and you can give more thought to what kind of wife you seek.”
The fact that she pre-emptively rejected his proposal was finally beginning to penetrate his understanding, but he was not quite prepared to argue his case.
He rather weakly replied, “Ah, but I have thought about what I want in a wife, and you would serve nicely.”
Elizabeth tried not to shudder and thought she mostly succeeded.
“If that be the case, I suggest once again that you follow Mr Darcy’s lead.”
“In what way?” he asked, once again looking both confused, and slightly vexed that she did not reply to his declaration, such as it was.
“As I said, he was instructed by his parents and subsequently reflected upon his needs for a decade—while you seem to have simply decided you need a pretty and gently born wife who is familiar with estates. You started paying attention before you knew anything about me, possibly at my mother’s urging, and I suspect that, like Mr Darcy, you were too precipitate.
How much thought have you really devoted to the matter? ”
“A great deal,” he said emphatically.
“You have… I see…” she said while tapping her chin a few times. “May I ask a few pertinent questions?”
The man nodded begrudgingly, which she suspected just meant he belatedly recognised he was not even close to keeping up with her.
“Let us begin,” she said cheerfully, then drew breath and launched her broadside.
“You will be a clergyman for many years. Do you want a wife who is dedicated to religion or one who gives it the minimum attention? Do you want a wife who understands the workings of the kitchen, so she can, as Lady Catherine suggests, ‘make a small income go a good way’, or one who has been prevented from learning such things in a weak attempt to make her more appealing to richer gentlemen? Do you want one who welcomes and reveres Lady Catherine’s advice, or one who would think her interference officious?
Do you want a wife who will be able to help you manage the estate when my father finally dies, or one who will leave you to do as you will? ”
She regarded the man and noticed he had begun to perspire.
“I do not advocate any position on these questions, cousin. I do not even assert they are the right questions, and I certainly have no real opinion about what your answers should be. That said, it seems to me that, until you have thought about what you really want, as Mr Darcy has, you cannot have any idea whether you are receiving what you need or not.”
Elizabeth hoped she had peppered Mr Darcy’s name into the discourse enough to disguise the fact that, whatever he was seeking in a wife, she was decidedly not it.
“You make fair points, cousin. I do not suppose you would tell me how you would answer those questions.”
She took pity on the poor man and softened the blow slightly, but whether out of kindness, pity or relief was debatable.
“As I said, it is not my place to tell you your own opinions. What I suggest is that you take the time to think deeply about the questions I have put to you. You will be married the rest of your life. Allow yourself a few weeks now to ensure you choose wisely. This is not the time for haste.”
He regarded her nervously for some time, and finally said, “I will follow Mr Darcy’s lead.”
“I thought you might. I would also advise you to formulate your own questions and answers. Mine were just the most obvious to me, but I really do not know you well enough to suggest what you need.”
Happy to have deftly avoided a proposal, she rose before he changed his mind.
“If you will allow me, I might suggest some steps to take while thinking about your questions and answers. Neither you nor I really compare with Mr Darcy’s situation in life, so I doubt either of us needs a decade to decide.
If you need another fortnight, I suggest you write to your patroness and explain that you are being careful to ensure you bring a bride whom she would be happy to meet, who will show her the appropriate deference… that sort of thing.”
She had apparently said the right words, as Mr Collins looked as though he might flee the room screaming for a pen if she did not restrain him.
Twisting the knife a bit, she added, “I will also add, sir, that while you are thinking, it might behove you to pay more attention to Mary and possibly Charlotte Lucas. I suspect either of them would come closer to meeting the requirements you will eventually determine than I ever could.”
“That seems inordinately good advice, cousin.”
“One last thing, if you will.”
“Of course,” he said, though she could tell he was already composing his letter to Lady Catherine in his mind and not paying the slightest attention.
“Allow me to deal with my mother and follow my lead.”
She had no faith that he would do so, but it was worth a try.
With a smirk, she threw the parlour door open, only to find at least two of her sisters tumbling in and nearly falling over, followed closely by Mrs Bennet.
She said cheerfully, “Mama, you should not jump to conclusions. While Mr Collins may have appeared intent on proposing to me, he simply wanted my advice on matrimonial matters. I have given him my suggestions, and he now has work to do. Mary, I suggest you discuss it with him as I believe your insight may be valuable.”
With that, she skipped out of the room, walked demurely around the nearest corner, then hastened down the corridor and up the stairs to her father’s library, intent on demanding sanctuary.
When she arrived panting and out of breath, she burst into the room and cried, “Papa, you must give me sanctuary. I have just engineered my second prejection in twelve hours—and it was glorious!”