Introducing Mrs. Collins
Dear Eliza,
I hope you and your family are in good health.
I am, and so is Mr Collins. I have not heard from you since leaving Hertfordshire, so I will now impart my news.
My new home is comfortable and peacefully situated, and I am growing fond of the village and the countryside around; woodland, streams, thorny bushed lanes and treks across muddy fields abound.
It offers the kind of walks you enjoy almost more than I.
My duties as the rector’s wife involve making visits across the parish to see those in need: in need of food, solace, company or help.
You might think I sound as if I am applying for sainthood, but the work makes me feel the opposite – rather pampered and naive next to some who truly suffer.
I visit all kinds of people: a mother of eight who has just given birth and is of meagre means, a young widower who is grieving badly, a retired colonel who lost a leg in battle, and an elderly lady who is dying from God knows what and who remains extremely forthright and domineering, even while her colour is pallid and her body too weak to move.
I think being near the end has made her more outrageous. I like her.
So, I see a great many people during the week. But I have not yet found a friend. I miss your company more than anything else I miss in Hertfordshire.
I write to ask you again to please come with Maria and my father when they visit me next month. I would very much welcome your company.
Your friend,
Charlotte