CHAPTER 9 #6
Lady Catherine accepted these attentions as naturally as authority accepts obedience; yet the temper of the evening had undeniably softened. The agitation and interruptions of the day, though not forgotten, no longer governed every expression or dictated every silence.
For some minutes, conversation resumed in small divisions.
Mr. Collins, anxious equally to entertain and to appear useful, dismissed a maid with an air of officious satisfaction and undertook the office of replenishing tea-cups with a solemnity more appropriate to diplomacy than hospitality.
Anne de Bourgh remained seated beside the fire, listening more than speaking, though her reserve no longer possessed the air of habitual withdrawal; while Darcy, after one or two attempts at general conversation, gradually relapsed into quieter observation.
It was Mr. Bennet who first altered the disposition of the room.
“I begin to suspect,” he observed, after watching Mr. Collins unsuccessfully attempt to recall the proper arrangement of the card-tables, “that we are all becoming rather too thoughtful for comfortable society. Might not cards restore us to a more natural condition?”
“Cards are at least preferable to excessive solemnity,” Lady Catherine returned. “Though I have always maintained that people reveal a great deal of character in play.”
“Particularly patience,” Mr. Bennet replied. “Which some players exercise, and others chiefly demand from their companions.”
“An excellent proposal! Most excellent indeed!” Mr. Collins declared, receiving the suggestion with immediate enthusiasm. “Cards have long been considered among the safest and most improving recreations of civilized society.”
“Particularly,” Mr. Bennet returned, “when played without excessive success.”
Lady Catherine, after a moment’s consideration, signified her approval; and the smaller tables were accordingly arranged with the practised assistance of the servants.
Commerce having been selected, the parties were soon distributed. Lady Catherine, whose opinions extended decisively into every game she played, presided at one table with Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennet; while at another, less formally contested, Anne and Elizabeth played opposite Darcy.
Mr. Collins’s deficiencies as a card-player quickly became impossible to conceal. His eagerness perpetually outran both memory and judgment; and though he accepted correction with profound humility, he appeared incapable of profiting by it for longer than three turns together.
“My dear sir,” Lady Catherine declared at last, as Mr. Collins once again revoked with disastrous consequences to his own side, “you have forgotten the suit for the fourth time.”
“A thousand pardons, your ladyship! I am excessively ashamed.” Mr. Collins coloured deeply. “The honour of finding myself admitted to play in such distinguished society has perhaps deprived me of that steadiness which, under humbler circumstances, I generally command.”
“I have rarely met a gentleman,” Mr. Bennet observed, while calmly collecting the trick surrendered through Collins’s confusion, “who loses with greater innocence of intention than my cousin.”
Darcy, hearing this from the neighbouring table, lowered his eyes for a moment as though to conceal amusement.
“It is my misfortune,” Mr. Collins continued earnestly, “to retain the principles of games more readily than the rules themselves.”
“That,” Mr. Bennet replied, “places you in a condition shared by many moralists and nearly all politicians.”
Even Lady Catherine appeared not entirely displeased by this observation.
At the second table, the play proceeded with greater tranquillity.
Anne, though timid at first, gradually entered more naturally into the amusement; and Elizabeth soon perceived that Miss de Bourgh possessed neither dullness nor incapacity, but merely the long habit of yielding precedence to stronger personalities.
“You play very correctly, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth observed during a pause in the game.
“Mama says I play too cautiously,” Anne said, looking faintly surprised.
“That is because Lady Catherine dislikes any quality which does not resemble decision,” Mr. Darcy said quietly.
His aunt looked up immediately.
“I dislike hesitation where certainty is possible, Darcy.”
“And yet,” Mr. Bennet returned, “certainty appears remarkably difficult to secure at cards. Mr. Collins has now demonstrated at least six different convictions within a quarter of an hour.”
Mr. Collins laughed with such willing submission that even his embarrassment became harmless.
The evening, which had begun under the weight of strain and uncertainty, thus settled by degrees into a species of domestic ease none of them would earlier have anticipated.
The fire burned lower; the candles softened gradually toward their sockets; and conversation, no longer guarded by continual caution, acquired something nearer comfort than ceremony.
At length Lady Catherine laid down her cards.
“It grows late,” she announced plainly. “And as your journey tomorrow will require an early departure, Mr. Bennet, it is proper that the evening should conclude before unnecessary fatigue is produced.”
The words, though practical in form, carried an unmistakable acknowledgment that their visit now approached its close.
Mr. Collins immediately expressed profound sorrow at the prospect of separation; Mr. Bennet offered the gratitude due to hospitality with a dignity perfectly free from excess; while Elizabeth, in thanking Lady Catherine, did so with a warmth more sincere than she herself might once have expected possible.
“You have shown us much kindness, madam,” she said quietly.
“I have endeavoured to act properly, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine replied, receiving the acknowledgment with grave composure.
“And successfully, Mama,” Anne said gently.
For an instant, Lady Catherine’s expression altered; and though no direct tenderness appeared, something in her manner softened visibly toward her daughter.
“I shall expect to hear that your journey is completed safely,” she said, addressing the Bennets generally, though her eyes rested for a moment upon Elizabeth.
Mr. Bennet bowed with easy politeness. “We shall leave Rosings with every proper sense of the attention we have received here.”
Mr. Darcy, who had spoken little during these final exchanges, accompanied the party as far as the great staircase; and though no private conversation was possible, Elizabeth remained quietly conscious, as she offered him her parting curtsy for the evening, that the understanding established between them now rested upon something steadier than accident.