CHAPTER 3 #2
“Well, in a manner difficult to explain without seeming unjust,” Mrs. Jenkinson admitted. “For I cannot accuse him of any open impropriety. His behaviour is uniformly respectful. His address is guarded. He appears attentive to every duty—especially those that can be seen. But—”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes brightened. “An excellent beginning for a dangerous man.”
Elizabeth cast him a brief look of reproof, though she knew he was only half in jest.
Mrs. Jenkinson continued, “When Mr. Wickham first came, he was received with favour—more favour, perhaps, than many thought prudent in so short a time. The parsonage, it was soon determined, required repairs. Mr. Wickham represented it as scarcely fit for immediate habitation. Lady Catherine insisted promptly that he reside at Rosings until the work was complete.”
“At Rosings?” Mr. Collins exclaimed, the words escaping him before dignity could restrain them.
“At Rosings, sir, indeed,” Mrs. Jenkinson confirmed.
“And from that moment everything has worn a different aspect. Miss de Bourgh was uneasy. She spoke, I believe, with more openness than is usual for her. I likewise ventured, on one occasion, to hint that such an arrangement might expose her ladyship to remark. Within two days, I was informed that my services were no longer necessary.”
Elizabeth looked grave. “And Miss de Bourgh submitted to this?”
“Not willingly. Poor Miss Anne attempted to interfere. But she has never possessed either the health or the authority to prevail.”
There was a short silence. Mr. Collins, whose imagination had now gone much farther than any prudence warranted, looked alternately shocked, affronted, and uncertain whether he were more injured in his expectations or scandalized in his principles.
At last he said, “This is a most serious account. Yet perhaps—perhaps there may be some misunderstanding. Lady Catherine is not, in general, a lady to act precipitately.”
Mrs. Jenkinson gave him a look in which old knowledge of his character mingled with present weariness. “I should be very glad to believe it so, sir.”
Mr. Bennet, who had hitherto preserved a tone of mild inquiry, now spoke with greater seriousness. “And Miss de Bourgh remains at Rosings without you?”
“Miss Anne desired me to stay near at hand,” Mrs. Jenkinson explained, and for the first time her voice truly faltered.
“Miss de Bourgh hoped—she still hopes—that her mother may relent, and that I may be recalled. I have therefore remained at the inn, uncertain whether to wait or to leave the neighbourhood altogether. If I go too soon, I may abandon her; if I remain too long, I may ruin myself. I shall probably leave tomorrow, and withdraw to Dartford, where my sister resides, until I am better settled.”
As she spoke, her hands, which had hitherto lain composed in her lap, tightened slightly upon each other, as if to steady a resolution not yet secure.
Elizabeth, who had from the beginning been more touched than surprised, leaned forward at once. “Then you must not leave until you are certain what Miss de Bourgh wishes. If she depends on your return, you cannot be blamed for staying.”
“You are very good,” Mrs. Jenkinson said. “But goodness settles very little where income is concerned.”
“That,” Mr. Bennet said, “is unfortunately true.”
Mr. Collins, who by this time had nearly forgotten the dinner waiting for him, suddenly recollected both his own dignity and his connection to the matter.
Drawing himself up, he declared, “Whatever the unfortunate singularity of recent events, one point is at least beyond dispute: there is already a vicar at Hunsford.”
Mr. Bennet turned to him with a gravity so composed that only Elizabeth detected the irony beneath it.
“Yes, Cousin,” he said. “That, I think, may be considered the bad news for you.”
***
Mr. Bennet was just as surprised as Mr. Collins, who had assumed that Lady Catherine de Bourgh would either delay her response or send a brief note declining his request and intimating that his visit was unnecessary.
However, to everyone’s surprise, the inn apprentice returned with a message inviting them to dinner that evening.
This unexpected invitation filled Mr. Collins with delight, and he immediately offered some coins to the lad as thanks, exclaiming, “You have done a great service to a humble servant of Lady Catherine!”
Elizabeth, who could not but be amused by his eagerness, said with a smile, “What excellent news, Mr. Collins.
Mr. Bennet, with a gravity that scarcely concealed his amusement, observed, “You must be particular, Mr. Collins, in returning so distinguished a civility.”
Mr. Collins nodded earnestly. “Indeed, Mr. Bennet! It would be highly improper not to express my gratitude in the most suitable terms.”
The hours passed quickly, and the travellers had scarcely time to recover from the fatigue of their journey.
The innkeeper, sensible of the consequence of his guests, instructed his stable boy to assist Mr. Bennet’s driver in carefully cleaning the carriage, that their arrival at Rosings might be as creditable as possible.
***
As soon as they reached the front of the house, a footman received them at the entrance, while a stable servant hurried forward to take charge of the horses and carriage.
Upon entering, the footman bowed and, in an exceptionally polite tone, invited them to follow him to the parlour, where her ladyship was waiting.
“Dinner will be served in about half an hour,” he added, turning to lead the way.
As they followed him through the grand halls of Rosings, Mr. Collins could hardly contain his admiration.
“Such elegance! Such grandeur!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide as he surveyed the opulent surroundings.
“I remember, on my former visit, being equally struck; yet even now I can scarcely conceive the expense required to maintain so magnificent an establishment.”
Mr. Bennet observed the lavish decor with mild amusement, shaking his head at his cousin’s enthusiasm. “It is indeed very fine, Collins. Though I imagine even magnificence may have its inconveniences.”
“Do you not perceive, Mr. Bennet?” Mr. Collins said earnestly. “The splendour of Rosings speaks directly to the character of Lady Catherine. She is the very embodiment of propriety and distinction!”
Elizabeth, always observant, took in the apartment with a discerning eye, though her thoughts were not wholly confined to what was before her.
Upon entering the parlour, Lady Catherine de Bourgh rose with composed dignity. Mr. Collins, eager to discharge his duty, stepped forward at once.
“Allow me, your ladyship,” Mr. Collins said, “to present to you my honoured relative, Mr. Bennet of Longbourn, and his daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet—of whom I took the liberty of writing to your ladyship earlier today.”
Lady Catherine inclined her head with measured civility.
“I am obliged to you, Mr. Collins,” she said. “Mr. Bennet, you are welcome to Rosings. Miss Bennet—” she paused, directing a composed and searching look toward Elizabeth “—I am glad to make your acquaintance.”
Mr. Collins, eager to express his gratitude, immediately launched into a speech. “I am most sincerely obliged to your ladyship for your condescension and hospitality. It is an honour beyond expression to be received in your distinguished residence.”
Lady Catherine inclined her head, accustomed to such declarations.
“Thank you for your kind invitation and reception, Lady Catherine,” Mr. Bennet said, with composed civility. “We are much obliged to your ladyship.”
Lady Catherine motioned for them to be seated. “Dinner will be served shortly. I trust your journey was not fatiguing?”
As they complied, Elizabeth could not but observe the arrangement of the room, which spoke as plainly of authority as of expense. Lady Catherine, with evident command, soon directed the conversation toward Mr. Collins’s visit and the late occurrences at Hunsford.
“Mr. Collins,” she began, in a tone of calm decision, “I must inform you that since your last visit, another gentleman has applied for the living at Hunsford, and I have thought it proper to dispose of it accordingly. Your journey, therefore, may have been unnecessary.”
Though already apprised of the circumstance, Mr. Collins could not entirely conceal his discomposure. “Unnecessary?” he repeated. “But, your ladyship, I had imagined—”
“However,” Lady Catherine continued, with little concern for his interruption, “since you are here, you will remain in the neighbourhood for a few days. I shall expect to see you at Rosings, and it is always my wish that proper attention be shown to those who have the advantage of my notice.”
Mr. Collins bowed deeply, his disappointment yielding at once to gratitude.
He understood immediately that all his efforts must prove in vain; the living had already been secured by a former fellow of his college.
For a moment, he felt unsteady, as though the room itself were not entirely fixed; but to vex her ladyship could lead to nothing good, while well-placed flattery was never bestowed without return.
Mr. Bennet raised his chin slightly, as if to remind him that composure was still required.
“Are all your daughters as well-looking and well-behaved as Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet?” Lady Catherine asked, turning the discourse.
“Your ladyship is very good,” Mr. Bennet replied. “I wish at least three of them might answer so well to your description.”
Lady Catherine smiled slightly. “And what of you, Miss Elizabeth?” she said. “Is your father’s estate entailed to Mr. Collins, as I have been told?”
“It is, madam,” Elizabeth answered calmly. “Though my father’s health gives us no present cause for apprehension.”
Lady Catherine regarded her narrowly. “You speak with composure on a subject which might reasonably engage more concern.”