Chapter 2 #3
He drew forward a ledger already marked by a ribbon, and proceeded to speak with the calm precision of one long accustomed to allowing facts to declare themselves without embellishment.
“You are already apprised, sir, of the melancholy event of Mrs. Collins’s decease; I shall not dwell upon it unnecessarily. What properly concerns us here is the provision she made some years since, which, upon her passing, has now come into full effect.”
Mr. Bennet inclined his head in silent acknowledgement.
“The sum in question,” continued Mr. Jennings, “amounts in total to five hundred and four pounds, nineteen shillings, and seven pence. The greater portion derives from her original marriage settlement; the remainder represents the fruits of careful economies accumulated over time, and prudently kept separate from the ordinary management of the inn.”
He paused briefly—not for dramatic effect, but to permit the figure to impress itself fully upon his listener’s mind.
“The money is entirely secure, having been duly lodged, meticulously accounted for, and recently verified. No portion of it has been disturbed since her death.”
“I am glad to hear it,” observed Mr. Bennet, in a tone of quiet gravity.
“The income it generates,” the solicitor proceeded, “though modest, is steady and reliable. At prevailing rates, it yields approximately forty pounds per annum. Mrs. Collins was perfectly sensible that this would neither support her son in idleness nor enable him to cut a splendid figure in the world; yet she judged it sufficient, if applied with prudence, to procure for him suitable instruction, necessary books, and the means of preparing himself for a respectable profession.”
“And the profession she had in view?” inquired Mr. Bennet.
“She expressed a decided preference for the Church,” replied Mr. Jennings, “provided her son’s inclinations and abilities should prove consonant with it.
Upon that point, however, she imposed no binding obligation—only that the funds be devoted exclusively to his education, and not diverted to any inconsistent purpose. ”
The solicitor turned another page with deliberate care.
“In the selection of a trustee, Mrs. Collins exercised her prerogative with particular deliberation. She did not regard her husband as the most suitable guardian of these resources. Therefore, she appointed you, Mr. Bennet, as the individual best qualified to superintend them with independence and judicious discretion.”
Mr. Bennet received this intelligence without visible perturbation, though his attention became more keenly engaged.
“The terms of the trust,” Mr. Jennings continued, “require no immediate transfer of the capital itself, which remains securely placed. What is necessary at present is merely your formal acceptance of the office, together with your signature upon the instrument by which you undertake responsibility for its application during the boy’s minority. ”
“And should I decline the charge?” asked Mr. Bennet, after a moment’s reflection.
“In that event,” answered the solicitor with unruffled calm, “another trustee would need to be appointed; yet I am bound to inform you that Mrs. Collins expressly contemplated such a contingency, and recorded her earnest hope—strongly felt, though not legally enforceable—that you would not refuse.”
Mr. Bennet remained silent for a brief interval, considering the matter.
“And the father’s rights?” he inquired at length.
“Mr. Richard Collins retains undiminished parental authority in all other respects,” replied the solicitor, choosing his words with scrupulous care.
“This arrangement in no way abridges them. The expenditure of the trust monies, however, rests solely with the appointed trustee; no withdrawal may be effected without your consent, nor may the funds be applied to any object beyond the purposes specified.”
Mr. Bennet signified his comprehension with a slight nod.
“You will readily perceive,” added Mr. Jennings, “that I should not have presumed to request your personal attendance had the matter admitted of satisfactory resolution by correspondence alone. Certain practical considerations—not speculative, but immediate—render local judgement and oversight highly desirable. The boy’s present situation, his health, and the general conduct of the household are such that decisions of consequence may shortly become necessary. ”
“I have already observed sufficient,” remarked Mr. Bennet with dry understatement, “to credit the wisdom of your counsel.”
The solicitor permitted himself the faintest softening of his professional reserve.
“If you are disposed to accept, sir, I shall prepare the requisite documents without delay. They will not detain you overlong. Further arrangements—whether concerning suitable placements, clerical tuition, or temporary employment—may be considered at your leisure, and need not be settled today.”
Mr. Bennet rose from his chair.
“I shall accept the trust,” he said, with measured gravity. “Not lightly undertaken, but accepted nonetheless. Young Mr. Collins deserves due support.”
Mr. Jennings inclined his head once more, this time with evident and respectful approval.
“In that case,” he said, “Mrs. Collins’s confidence has not been misplaced.”
As Mr. Bennet prepared to take his leave, Mr. Jennings rose with him and accompanied him as far as the door.
“There is one further point, sir,” the solicitor added, with a gravity that belonged not to ceremony but to duty.
“Given the circumstances, I would respectfully propose that we maintain a regular correspondence. Any material change in the boy’s situation, his health, or his prospects shall be communicated to you without delay; and I trust that you, in turn, will inform me of any determination you may reach respecting his education or employment, so that the accounts may be kept in exact conformity with your intentions. ”
Mr. Bennet inclined his head at once. “That is perfectly reasonable. I have no desire to act without information, nor to leave you without direction. We shall proceed, then, not merely by obligation, but by understanding.”
“I am obliged to you, sir,” said Mr. Jennings. “Such cooperation will greatly lessen the risk of error—and, I hope, spare the boy unnecessary uncertainty.”
“That consideration,” returned Mr. Bennet, with quiet firmness, “ought never to be disregarded.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Mr. Bennet resumed his seat, as though recalling a matter not yet exhausted.
“There is one practical point upon which I should value your opinion,” he said.
“I have been informed by your assistant, Mr. Cobb, that the demands of this office are such that an additional copyist might be of real service. I would willingly see the boy removed, at least in part, from the daily drudgery of the inn, and placed where his steadiness and fair hand might be better employed.”
Mr. Jennings regarded him attentively.
“If such an arrangement were thought acceptable,” Mr. Bennet continued, “I should be prepared to bear the expense of his further preparation. Twenty pounds per annum would be devoted expressly to instruction—whether under Mr. Cobb’s guidance or another suitable person—until such time as the boy might be fit for college.
I should ask only that his labor here be honestly employed, and that his habits be formed under proper supervision. ”
The solicitor reflected for a moment, then nodded.
“The proposal is reasonable,” he said. “The office would undertake his maintenance during working hours—his wages and midday meal—nothing more. Instruction beyond the immediate requirements of copying would properly remain your charge.”
“That is precisely my understanding,” Mr. Bennet said.
“Then I see no objection,” Mr. Jennings concluded. “Indeed, I see advantage on both sides. If you will have young Mr. Collins attend here, I shall be glad to observe his hand and habits, and to determine what employment may suit him.”
They exchanged bows; and as Mr. Bennet stepped back into the street, he did so with the settled conviction that the matter before him would not be managed by impulse, nor abandoned to chance, but pursued—as far as prudence and patience would allow—with steady attention and mutual regard.
***
Mr. Bennet next waited upon the local clergyman at St. Thomas à Becket, a man of earnest intentions and a fatigued manner, whose benevolence was sincere, though pressed on all sides by duties which allowed little leisure for particular zeal.
Mr. Bennet introduced himself as a cousin of the Collins family, entrusted by the late Mrs. Collins with a measure of concern for the young man, and the interview was conducted without ceremony, and with that quiet frankness which belongs to men accustomed to speak more by necessity than by inclination.
From Father Hartley, Mr. Bennet learned that William Collins’s conduct had been uniformly good; that his attendance at church was neither irregular nor enforced; and that his seriousness of deportment was unaccompanied by gloom.
The young man applied himself to study with steadiness rather than display, and showed no disposition to make knowledge a means of vanity.
“William is not brilliant,” said the clergyman, with a candor that was not unkind, “but he is sound. He reads with attention; he remembers what he reads; and he does not tire of it when no one is present to observe him. His Latin is imperfect, but improving; his grammar tolerable; and his turn of mind is more reflective than ambitious.”
“And his temper?” inquired Mr. Bennet.
“Cheerful,” was the immediate reply. “Not volatile, but even. He bears rebuke without resentment, and labor without complaint. If he has any fault, it is rather an excess of submission than a want of spirit. Humility is good at his age; but the illness and death of his mother have bowed the poor lad’s wings too early.
There is strength in him still, and a brave soul. ”