Chapter 11 #2
This afternoon, Mr. Collins, the heir of Longbourn, had arrived precisely at 4 o’clock in the afternoon and was welcomed by the ladies of the house.
Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet were united in their determination that the man not meet Mr. Bennet yet; the master of the estate was not violent today, but he was extremely inebriated.
Mr. Collins was a tall, heavy-set individual of some five and twenty summers and he spoke extremely formally, with many bows and compliments on the beauty of his fair cousins.
Once they sat down for dinner, Mr. Collins spoke almost ceaselessly, and the two topics of interest to the portly clergyman were Longbourn and its wealth and Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his patroness.
The former was offensive since Mr. Collins kept looking around with a look of avarice, and the latter was just boring.
Lady Catherine sounded like an imperious and irritating woman, and Elizabeth was thoroughly weary of the subject.
“Er, um, well, Miss Elizabeth, my father has passed on, as you no doubt know, and my only sibling, my younger brother Timothy, left England’s shores seven years ago. I have not heard from him since that time.”
“Oh, I am sorry!” Jane murmured sympathetically. “That must be difficult.”
The rector wiped his moist forehead, “In truth, Cousin Jane, my esteemed father and my brother were not on good terms, and when Timothy chose to go to sea on a merchant ship, life in our little home grew calmer.”
“I have often thought it would be interesting to go to sea,” Lydia commented dreamily. “It is hard to fathom being on a wooden ship surrounded entirely by water as far as the eye can see.”
“It sounds dreadful to me,” Mary declared with a shudder. “I have read about thirst and storms and the struggles of navigation and seasickness. I have no interest in such experiences.”
“It is fortunate that the men in our Majesty’s Navy are willing to venture into dangerous situations or we would likely be overrun by Napoleon,” Elizabeth observed.
“That is true enough,” Mary acknowledged. “It is the will of God that some are called to stay home, and others to travel across land and sea to work, to fight, to learn. I acknowledge that there is great value in traveling for some.”
Elizabeth sat back with a satisfied sigh as the conversation became general.
Mr. Collins, looking rather like a bewildered rabbit, apparently had little to contribute on the topic of travel.
For the rest of the meal, he occasionally made remarks about Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her penchant for staying home at Rosings the majority of the time, but he was largely, happily ignored.
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Mrs. Bennet gestured to the nearby chair as she sat down in her own favorite chair in the parlor, “Please, do sit down, Mr. Collins.”
The clergyman obeyed and, after peering at the fine wainscot paneling which adorned the parlor walls, turned his attention on his hostess.
“Mrs. Bennet, while I have no desire to be forward, I had hoped to visit with your esteemed husband Mr. Bennet soon. May I inquire as to when he will be available?”
The lady of the house hesitated, plucking uneasily at her shawl, “I fear that Mr. Bennet has far more bad days than good, and today is not a good day. Perhaps you can speak to me instead and I can pass on any messages you have for him?”
“I wish to marry one of your daughters, Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Collins intoned solemnly, “with the express purpose of mitigating the great sorrow of losing their home upon the death of Mr. Bennet.”
Frances Bennet’s nostrils flared in shocked delight at these words. A real live eligible suitor for her girls! The heir of Longbourn himself! What a gift!
“That is wonderful, Mr. Collins, absolutely wonderful!” she gushed.
The man bowed portentously and lifted one plump hand to stroke his chin, “Miss Bennet is the eldest, of course, and thus by right of seniority should be the first to marry.”
The lady shook her head slowly, “Oh, Mr. Collins, Jane is a delightful girl but she is, well ... she is very close to being engaged to Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Park, who has been courting her most assiduously.”
Mr. Collins frowned heavily at this, but he would not try to ensnare another man’s prospective bride.
“Miss Elizabeth is, of course, second in birth and beauty,” he mused. “She would do nicely as the mistress of the parsonage at Hunsford.”
Now Mrs. Bennet openly shuddered. Much as she disliked Lizzy’s high handed ways, she knew that Longbourn’s continued solvency was due to her second daughter’s diligence.
Furthermore, Elizabeth was the only one in the house who could reliably manage Mr. Bennet during one of her husband’s ‘spells’. No, not Elizabeth.
“Mr. Collins,” she responded, allowing her forehead to wrinkle just slightly, “I do apologize for contradicting you, but of course you do not know Elizabeth well. She is, and I am ashamed to say it, rather a strong willed young lady and does not always respect her elders as she ought. I blame her father, I really do; he taught her far more than was advisable when she was younger. She actually reads some Latin and Greek, Mr. Collins! No, no, I would not wish you to marry a woman who would not show Lady Catherine the great respect that she deserves …”
Mr. Collins paled and actually swayed slightly at the very thought of such a thing, “Surely not, Mrs. Bennet! Surely the very sight of the great lady in all her glory and wisdom …”
“What about Mary, Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Bennet interrupted hastily. “I believe she has nearly memorized Fordyce’s sermons. She would make a wonderful clergyman’s wife.”
Mr. Collins did not conceal his wince. He wanted a pretty wife, and Mary was the only Bennet girl who was not pretty.
Nor was he convinced that his cousin Elizabeth was not an option.
No young woman could fail to be awed into respectful silence and reverence in the presence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Kent.
“Well, we shall see, shall we not?” the clergyman suggested, his expression mulish. “We shall see.”