CHAPTER 5 #2
“Indeed, Miss Bennet,” interposed Mr. Collins eagerly, “our present accommodation, though necessarily inferior to Rosings in point of consequence, has yet been found exceedingly decent; and I flatter myself that the landlord, having become sensible of the distinction of his guests, has omitted nothing which could render our stay respectable.”
“I have no doubt of it,” said Darcy, with gravity enough to spare Mr. Collins the pain of suspecting ridicule.
Mr. Bennet, however, whose eyes had wandered from one to the other with a quiet interest not wholly lazy, said, “Respectability is well; but I am more curious to know whether Hunsford, in your judgment, Mr. Darcy, improves upon acquaintance. My daughter has this morning professed herself agreeably surprised by its society.”
Elizabeth cast him a look which was meant to restrain her father, but arrived too late.
Mr. Darcy, instead of appearing embarrassed, seemed rather to consider the question. “I know few places,” he said at last, “which can be fairly judged in a day, Mr. Bennet.”
“Then I must suspend my judgement a little longer,” Elizabeth concluded.
Mr. Darcy met her glance with a seriousness which checked, for a moment, the ease of her own.
“No,” he said, “you need not suspend it on my account, Miss Bennet. I only meant that mine must remain incomplete.”
Mr. Collins, who had listened to this exchange with the air of one conscious that something was passing which ought perhaps to be admired, though he could not have explained in what the merit consisted, thought it necessary to restore the conversation to safer ground.
“We have been speaking,” said he, “of the service, Mr. Darcy, and I was venturing to observe that, despite certain slight interruptions, the sermon, considered as a first effort, did great credit to Mr. Wickham’s powers.”
Darcy’s expression altered, though only enough to be seen by eyes already fixed upon him.
“I did not remain to form a full judgment of it.”
“No,” said Elizabeth, before she had quite decided to speak. “But you remained long enough to produce one.”
As soon as the words were uttered, she wished them recalled; not because they were unjust, but because they implied a degree of observation she had not meant to betray. Mr. Bennet looked pleased. Mr. Collins looked perplexed.
Mr. Darcy, after the briefest pause, answered with more gentleness than she had expected. “If I had that effect,” said he, “it was very unwillingly. I was not expecting to see that particular vicar in Kent.”
There was enough in his tone to make levity improper. Elizabeth coloured slightly, and for the first time since he had joined them, did not immediately trust herself to reply.
Mr. Bennet came to her relief.
“Then we must acquit you, sir, of clerical ambition. Collins, you may be easy; Mr. Darcy does not come into Kent to preach.”
Mr. Collins smiled with solemn gratitude at this restoration of the conversation to harmless forms, and began almost immediately to enlarge upon the peculiar difficulties of extempore devotion under the inspection of rank; but Elizabeth heard little of what followed.
She was conscious only that Mr. Darcy remained, that his manner to her had neither the hauteur of Meryton nor the mere civility of Rosings, and that whatever had passed in the morning, and whatever connection it might bear to Mr. Wickham, was not a matter upon which he seemed disposed to relieve her uncertainty.
“We came, in fact, to attend Mr. Collins, to whom the living had been promised,” Mr. Bennet said.
“We were not less surprised than yourself, sir, to find another in possession of it. I daresay my cousin was imprudent enough to inform his former acquaintance, Mr. Wickham, too early of his expected advancement here; and that gentleman, being of a more active turn, came provided with stronger recommendations, and so forestalled him.”
Darcy’s colour changed, though his manner did not.
“You state the case correctly, sir,” Mr. Darcy said.
“It was my neglect. I recommended Mr. Wickham, and furnished him with letters in his favour, too early and with too much confidence. They were intended to assist him to a living in Shrewsbury, in Shropshire; not for this situation. He chose instead to employ them here, and, to your disadvantage, Mr. Collins, a circumstance I neither foresaw nor can approve.”
Darcy turned directly to Mr. Collins.
“Such a use of my support does him no credit, and I cannot but regret that my confidence should have been made the means of your disappointment. You have, in this instance, been unfairly treated,” Mr. Darcy said.
Mr. Collins bowed, at once gratified and discomposed.
“Sir, you are very condescending—very just—most properly sensible of the claims of—of prior expectation; though I would by no means presume—” Mr. Collins said, bowing his head gratefully.
“You will allow me to proceed,” Mr. Darcy said, with a steadiness which, though perfectly civil, admitted no interruption.
“The circumstance cannot be undone; but it may, in part, be repaired. The living at Kympton, in my gift, will shortly be vacant. If it be agreeable to you, I shall be happy to present you to it.”
Mr. Collins started, and for a moment seemed at a loss whether gratitude or astonishment should have the precedence, his features arranging themselves with visible effort into an expression suited to both.
“Kympton, sir!—in your gift!—I am infinitely obliged—most sensibly honoured—such condescension—such generosity—” Mr. Collins began, his words pressing one upon another with an eagerness which outran his composure.
“Pray, no expressions beyond what the occasion requires,” Mr. Darcy said more gently.
“I am only doing what is proper. You may wait upon me at No. 7, St James’s Street, at any time before the end of the month, when I shall be at leisure to enter more particularly into the subject, and to learn your final determination. ”
Mr. Bennet observed the whole with an attention neither careless nor unamused, his countenance betraying, now and then, a degree of quiet diversion which he made no effort to conceal.
“You will find, sir, that my cousin is not difficult to oblige, where preferment is concerned; and I shall hope that Kympton, when it comes, may prove less hazardous to his expectations than Hunsford has done,” Mr. Bennet said.
Elizabeth had listened in a degree of surprise she did not attempt to conceal, and found that whatever curiosity she had felt respecting the morning’s occurrences was rather increased than satisfied; for though much had been explained, something in Mr. Darcy’s manner convinced her that all was not yet told.
When at length he rose, it was with no appearance of wishing to terminate the interview sooner than necessity required.
“I fear I have already interrupted your afternoon too long,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Not at all, sir,” Mr. Collins protested. “The honour—”
But Mr. Bennet, standing also, contented himself with saying, “You have given it variety, which is more than can be promised by every visitor.”
Mr. Darcy bowed. His eyes turned once more to Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, I hope your stay in Hunsford may yet improve upon its beginning.”
“You are very kind, sir. I believe it has already proved more memorable than we expected.”
No more was said; yet she had the distinct impression, as he withdrew across the yard and mounted again, that the meeting, accidental as it had seemed, would not easily pass from either memory.
Mr. Bennet resumed his seat.
“Well, Lizzy,” said he, taking up the decanter once more, “if Hunsford improves on acquaintance, I begin to think some of its visitors do also.”
Elizabeth tried to laugh, and almost succeeded; but her thoughts, far from settling, were only the more engaged.
For if Mr. Darcy had once been merely disagreeable, he was so no longer; and if he was not yet intelligible, that uncertainty had already become more interesting than she could have wished.