Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
COLLINS
Still enjoying conversing with his new friend, Hurst, Collins paused after giving a rather lengthy tribute to the salmagundi and the galantine, and within the brief silence he heard a nearby lady say, “The Bath buns are extraordinary; I have never had better. Do you suppose Mrs Bennet would allow me to have the receipt?”
The Bath buns! They were delightful. He should definitely have another one or two, if any remained uneaten!
Collins hurried over to the buffet, and as he walked back to Hurst with a plate of Bath buns, he saw Mrs Bennet. He said, in his parson-giving-a-sermon voice, “Mrs Bennet! May I compliment you on your abilities as a hostess? The food is unparalleled!”
Mrs Bennet’s smile showed her gratitude, and Collins saw with satisfaction that many of the guests were copying his good example, walking up to Mrs Bennet, as he had, and—judging from her continuing bright smile—heaping praise on her.
Hurst said, “That was well done, sir. Very well done indeed. I can see that, as a parson, you must benefit your parishioners a good deal by merely setting a righteous example.”
Collins felt himself blush with the pleasure of such praise. He offered Hurst an enormous smile and said, “Come, let us be an upstanding example to others, and try some of the fruits that we had only barely consumed until now!”
Hurst gladly joined him, and they hovered over the lavish display of ripe peaches, figs, nectarines, mulberries, and grapes.
There were even hothouse strawberries—Collins took more of those than any other fruit, because he had rarely seen such exemplary berries!
—and there were apple and pear tarts, blackberries in cold jellies, and a compote of quinces.
Best of all, Collins decided from his first few forays at the buffet tables, were the iced medlars.
He took several of those, telling Hurst not to miss the treat.
As they left the buffet, Collins kindly informed several groups of guests that the hothouse strawberries and the iced medlars were not to be missed, and he detoured a bit from his planned route to once again thank and praise Mrs Bennet.
He was extremely gratified to see that his words and actions had set off another round of people going to the buffet and complimenting their hostess.
Hurst grinned. “My dear Collins, you should rent yourself out to hosts to promote more entertaining gatherings. Or at least gatherings in which guests are suitably appreciative of their hosts’ efforts.”
Collins said, “You do me honour with your words, even though you are not serious. I have seen in you the kind of actions a superior host should emulate.”
Again, both men turned their eyes to Mr Bennet.
He seemed to have gone to sleep, at this point, which felt like rather a relief.
It was not so pleasant to feel as if one was being laughed at; Collins had had plenty of that in his lifetime and, as a vicar in a prestigious parish, he now felt as if he should not have to bear such humiliation ever again.
Speaking with a great deal of dignity, he turned to Hurst to return the compliment. “You, sir, should rent yourself out to gentlemen who do not have the stamina nor the personality to adequately fulfil a host’s duties. You have done admirably here, even though you are not, in fact, the host.”
Hurst chuckled. “For fools rush in where angels fear to tread,” he said. “You and I, Collins, we have willingly thrown ourselves, once more, into the breach left by our host.”
Collins, feeling that he had heard these words before but not knowing where, assumed that Hurst was clever enough to know and to utter quotes appropriate to a conversation.
He was not altogether certain what Hurst meant, but he smiled and decided to praise his friend rather than expose his own lack of understanding; he said, “Well said, good sir. Well said.”
Delighted with one another and their beneficial effect on the enjoyment of the wedding-breakfast guests, the men smiled and nodded, but then they turned their attention to their fruit-laden plates.