Chapter 10 Hunsford Parsonage
Elizabeth sat upon a little bench in the garden behind Uncle Edward’s house.
Mary was troubled by conflicting feelings.
She was delighted to be free from her mother’s smothering rule, gratified that her father and husband had signed the legal papers to break the entail, and assured by Uncle Phillips that the matter would be settled by the new year.
She admired the charming parsonage, enjoyed the company of her new friend, Miss Anne de Bourgh, and could scarcely imagine living again without a water closet.
But there were two vexations in the agreeable circumstances: Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mr. Collins.
“And so, Lizzy, I beg you come to me as soon as it may be arranged. I hope Aunt Madeline is past the danger attending her pregnancy and may soon release you. Mr. Collins must have everything his own way, and I have not the skill to manage him. Perhaps you may observe our interactions and offer me some quiet guidance on how I may best deal with such a stubborn, headstrong man, who believes he knows everything, when in truth my judgment is superior to his. I am thankful Lady Catherine and my husband agree so well, or we should be turned out into the hedgerows or worse, returned to Longbourn to live under the same roof as Mamma. She and Mr. Collins would soon be at odds.”
Elizabeth set the letter aside.
Upon learning of Mary’s troubles, Aunt Madeline sent a servant to begin packing Lizzy’s trunk and urged Uncle Edward to send for Mr. Bennet.
“Lizzy, it is fortunate the gowns we ordered for you will be ready tomorrow. I can only shake my head at your mother's want of judgment. How she can justify expending so much pin money upon the youngest, while the second daughter is dressed in mended rags, is beyond me.”
“Aunt, I only hope I can be of use to my sister. Can we manage her husband between the two of us?”
Madeline Gardiner raised her brows. “How is it that Mary has not learned to manage so trying a person?”
“My dear aunt, at the first sign of trouble, Mary used to slip away like a tabby cat. She never acquired the basic arts of human interaction.”
With her trunks packed and dressed in her new traveling gown and stylish pelisse, Elizabeth waited for her father to arrive. If all proceeded well, they would arrive in Kent by five o’clock. She heard the outer door open, and a maid curtsied before her. Elizabeth rose.
“Has my father arrived?”
“Yes, miss. Your aunt asks that you come in for tea.”
“Thank you, Ruby. I shall come directly.”
Elizabeth took up her bonnet, slipped Mary’s letter into her book, and hastened in to greet her father.
“Elizabeth, I am pleased to see you. You look very well in your new traveling gown, my dear.”
She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “How did you leave Jane, sir? She has not written to me of late.”
“Your sisters are well, Lizzy. Both are excited because there are rumors that Netherfield Park has been let at last.”
Father and daughter passed the next hour discussing all the latest news from Meryton.
They made good time. From the carriage window, Elizabeth saw field upon field lying in stubble after the harvest, and others where the sheaves were set in orderly stacks to dry.
“Look there, Elizabeth. Above the treetops, you may see the manor rising.”
Elizabeth caught sight of the great house to the right, its upper stories rising above the surrounding trees. As they drew nearer, the carriage turned into a narrow lane and then into the drive of a pleasant cottage.
Before the carriage had fully stopped, Mr. Collins and her sister stood waiting at the entrance. The rector hastened forward to greet her father and took his hand in welcome.
Mary embraced Elizabeth warmly and held her fast. When she withdrew, Elizabeth saw her sister’s eyes were bright with emotion, and the sight troubled her, for Mary was not inclined to sensibility and was seldom moved.
Mr. Bennet presented his second daughter, and Mr. Collins observed, “They bear a strong resemblance to one another, sir. You are to be congratulated on so handsome a family.” Mr. Collins fixed his attention upon Elizabeth for longer than propriety allowed, though none observed it but Elizabeth.
They followed Mr. Collins into the house. She took her sister’s hand, drawing it into the crook of her arm. “I am glad to see you, sister. How does Mrs. Jenkinson go on?”
Mr. Collins heard the name and paused, turning back. “She is very ill, Cousin Elizabeth. Old Rogers, the physician, believes she will not survive the week.”
Mary added, “She was Miss Anne de Bourgh’s companion for twenty years, and the young lady is greatly distressed over the loss.”
Mr. Collins continued, “Lady Catherine says Miss de Bourgh has lost her appetite and spends many hours at her companion’s bedside, weeping.”
Elizabeth’s brows drew together. “I imagine Miss de Bourgh regards her companion more as a relation than as a servant.”
Mr. Collins inclined his head. “I believe you have understood the matter correctly, cousin. I have not witnessed such grief in all my life. To observe her, one might suppose she is losing a beloved mother.”
Mr. Collins then conducted them upstairs, and when Mr. Bennet was shown to his room, he declared he would rest for an hour before dinner.
Collins turned to Elizabeth. “My dear sister, for such you now are, allow me to show you to your chamber.”
He crossed the hall and opened the door to a pleasant room filled with the light of the waning afternoon sun. The curtains were of a sheer white fabric, and the drapes were of a fresh green, like new grass in spring.
Elizabeth’s eyes brightened with pleasure. “This is a very pretty room. I am quite charmed.”
Mr. Collins appeared gratified, then he moved to open the closet door. “Her Ladyship condescended to visit and advised I add shelves here.” He indicated them with satisfaction. “What do you think, Miss Elizabeth? Has she not done me a service?”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Indeed, sir. Between you both, the house is in excellent order.”
Mary asked, “Lizzy, would you wish to rest for an hour before dinner, or would you prefer to take the air?”
“You know me too well, Mary. I long for a walk, and the grove of beech trees beyond is well suited to a warm August afternoon.”
Mary said, “Mr. Collins, I shall step out with my sister to ensure she does not lose her way, if you have no objection.”
Elizabeth thought his smile carried a trace of condescension, and his eyes were too bold. “I believe I shall join you, my dear, for a walk is most beneficial,” he said.
Elizabeth spoke before Mary replied. “Brother, I had hoped to study one of your sermons this evening when I retire. Would it trouble you to remain and select one that might improve the mind of a young lady?”
“Certainly, sister. I have several suited to that purpose.” He said to his wife. “Miss Elizabeth would enjoy the east walk through the grove. The rise there is gentle. I shall be in my study and will choose two or three sermons for her perusal during her visit.”
With her eyes, Elizabeth urged her sister to speak.
Mary’s brows rose in uncertainty, but then, as understanding dawned, she quickly added, “You are very kind, sir. I shall make it my duty to include a phrase or two in my next letter to Kitty, for anything Lizzy finds uplifting will surely improve my younger sister as well.”
Elizabeth smiled at Mary with approval, and Mr. Collins, wholly engaged by the prospect of improving young female minds, withdrew at once to seek out the most suitable sermons.
When they entered the grove, Mary unburdened herself, and Elizabeth soon perceived her sister was in tears.
“Mary, my dear, does Mr. Collins beat you?”
Mary gave a short laugh. “No, Lizzy, nothing so grave.”
“He does not impose himself upon you?”
Mary colored. “I will speak plainly, Lizzy, for I am in need of guidance. Mr. Collins is not… inclined to excess in that regard, and he visits my bed but once a week.”
Her expression, so earnest and, at the same time, so comical, nearly overcame Elizabeth, who struggled to suppress her laughter as she studied her sister.
Mary giggled. “Lizzy, I believe he must mark the occasion in his calendar, for I have only now realized he comes to me on Saturday evenings.”
Elizabeth covered her ears. “Mary, pray let us not speak of such matters, for it is not an image I wish to entertain.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to look comical as she hastened to apologize. “Forgive me, I did not intend…” but Mary interrupted her. “Never mind, sister. I feel the same.”
“I wish to understand what troubles you. I have never known you to be moved to tears, though Mamma has often provided sufficient cause. If he does not treat you with unkindness nor impose himself upon you, what is it in his behavior that so distresses you?”
“Lizzy, you saw what he did when I wished for time alone with a sister whom I have not seen for months.
He would be walking with us even now, had you not intervened.
I have never learned what seems so natural to you.
He is always meddling in my concerns. I wish he had a profession like Uncle Edward's, which required his presence elsewhere for the greater part of the day. Then he would not trouble himself with the cut of the lamb, the arrangement of the furnishings, or my friendship with Miss de Bourgh, and I, in turn, would have time for reflection, and the solitude that is so necessary to me.”
Elizabeth pressed her sister’s arm in affection.