Chapter 43
A few nights later at dinner, Mr. Collins announced that they were soon to expect a visitor.
“We are to be honoured with the presence of my erstwhile patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She is travelling to Derbyshire next week and has expressed a desire to break her journey here for a few hours, to see for herself how my dear Charlotte and I get on in our new home.”
“We are delighted at her condescension,” murmured Charlotte, not catching her husband’s eye.
“Indeed we are. The only misfortune—a very grave one, in my opinion—is that I cannot be here myself to greet her. The bishop has called a meeting of his clergy on that day, and though I have begged him to release me from the obligation, his lordship is implacable. But I have written to her ladyship, explaining the unfortunate circumstance, and she has graciously indicated her willingness to be entertained by Mrs. Collins alone on this occasion.”
He smiled at Charlotte, who reached across the cloth and took his hand.
“I have no doubt that you will acquit yourself admirably, my dear. As, I am sure, will you, Miss Bennet. Lady Catherine does not stand on ceremony and you can expect the privilege of being introduced to her.”
Mary smiled politely, with a confidence she did not feel.
She had heard a great deal from Lizzy about Lady Catherine and suspected her famous condescension would not be extended to plain, unmarried girls like herself.
It would be best, she thought, to attract as little attention as possible, to do or say nothing at all that might provoke either Lady Catherine’s interest or disdain, for the first, she was sure, must in her case invariably lead to the latter.
Next morning, as the house was readied to receive its grand visitor, Mary had ample opportunity to practise the art of disappearance.
Charlotte did not invite her to assist in the preparations, and Mary did not force her presence upon her.
She was uncertain what to make of Charlotte’s shifting mood, sometimes cheerful, sometimes chilly and correct.
It seemed easier simply to absent herself whenever she could, and she spent much of her time seeking out places where she should not be in the way.
She was walking through the garden towards the orchard when she came upon Mr. Collins approaching from the other direction, to the discomfiture of them both.
“Miss Bennet, I do beg your pardon. Believe me, it was not my intention to come upon you unawares.”
“Oh, no, sir, it is my fault entirely. It is your garden, after all.”
His face softened. She sought to walk on as quickly as she could, but before she could do so, he addressed her.
“I do not wish to add to your embarrassment, but please allow me to say a word to you. I am conscious my behaviour in the library last week was not as it should have been, and I have long hoped to find a moment when I might seek your forgiveness. I am sorry if I caused you pain—although I cannot apologise for telling you how much I have enjoyed your company, for that was the truth.”
“That is kind of you to say, sir, but—”
“No, please don’t think I intend to repeat any other observations which escaped me that afternoon.
All I wish is to thank you for the advice you so wisely offered me as you left.
It was of inestimable benefit. I have already begun to act upon it, with, I venture to hope, encouraging results.
I will always be grateful to you, for both your delicacy and your perception. I shall not trouble you further.”
With that, he bowed and walked quickly away.
Mary did not see him again until she watched from her bedroom window as his horse was brought round, and he rode off to his appointment with the bishop.
Shortly afterwards, a grand and well-appointed carriage rolled up the drive.
Mary straightened her dress and went downstairs, as prepared as she supposed she would ever be to meet Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
She waited in the drawing room, keen not to usurp Charlotte’s privilege of standing on the steps to greet her guest. Soon Lady Catherine swept into the room, tall, imperious, clad in the most beautiful silks Mary had ever seen.
She seated herself in the best chair, from which she surveyed everything around her with an unblinking stare.
“I must congratulate you, Mrs. Collins, on the improvements you have made to this room since I saw it last. It has elegance without presumption, comfort without any unsuitable pretensions to fashion. You may tell Mr. Collins it has my entire approval, with the exception, I am afraid, of the curtains at those south-facing windows. The sun will fade the chintz. You must replace them with something lighter.”
“Thank you, ma’am, for such sound advice. Before I bring in some refreshments, may I be permitted to introduce to you Miss Mary Bennet, who is staying with us here? She lived here at Longbourn with her family before Mr. Collins and I arrived.”
Lady Catherine looked long and hard at Mary.
“You are a sister of the present Mrs. Darcy? You do not much resemble her.”
“No, ma’am, I have heard that said before. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. Elizabeth has often spoken to me of you.”
Lady Catherine frowned.
“Has she indeed! I should be glad to hear it was in polite and respectful terms. She has a most particular way of expressing herself. As you clearly do not share her looks, it is to be hoped you have also failed to inherit the pertness of her manners.”
“I have never heard Mrs. Darcy speak of you with anything but the greatest consideration.”
Lady Catherine declined to say more upon the vexed subject of Mrs. Darcy.
Tea was brought in, and she was persuaded to accept a small slice of cake.
When both had been compared to their disadvantage with what was to be had at Rosings, and Charlotte duly instructed to find both a better grocer and a more skilled cook, Lady Catherine turned her attention back to Mary.
“What is the purpose of your visit, Miss Bennet? How long do you intend to stay?”
“Miss Bennet is welcome to stay with us for as long as she wishes,” said Charlotte smoothly. “There will always be a place for her in what was once her home.”
“And I suppose it might still be so now, if it had not been for that unfortunate entail. I wonder your father did not find a way to have it broken. A clever lawyer can manage anything, if given the right encouragement. It is a very hard fate for your mother and sisters to be left so sadly unprovided for.”
“It is not quite as bleak as that, ma’am. All my sisters are married now, and both Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy have offered my mother a comfortable home.”
“Yes, your two eldest sisters married very advantageously. And that despite the scandal of the youngest one’s elopement. That was cleverly hushed up, was it not? Where does she live now?”
“Mrs. Wickham is at Newcastle with her husband’s regiment. My other sister, Catherine, married a clergyman in Derbyshire.”
“How very convenient for her to be so near the others. So that just leaves you?”
Charlotte reached out to fill Lady Catherine’s teacup.
“Indeed, Lady Catherine. Mary is the only Bennet daughter as yet unmarried.”
“And what do you propose to do about that, Miss Bennet? Your looks are against you, and I understand your father had almost nothing to leave you. No portion and no beauty will not make you a very enticing prospect for most young men.”
“Forgive me, ma’am, but I think you underestimate Miss Bennet,” declared Charlotte in her sweetest tone.
“She has many excellent qualities of which your ladyship may not be aware. She is too modest to say so herself, but she is without doubt the most accomplished young lady in the neighbourhood. She plays the piano very well and is an excellent scholar. She is well read in every subject, from history to philosophy to theology. She has lately begun to study Greek.”
“Greek!” exclaimed Lady Catherine. “Surely not! That is a most unsuitable pursuit for a young lady. Had I been consulted, I should certainly have advised against it. The classics are rightly considered the exclusive preserve of gentlemen.”
At last, Mary found her voice, and sought to rescue herself from the forbidding impression created by Charlotte’s unstinting praise.
“Mrs. Collins is far too generous in her estimation of my abilities. It is true I am of a bookish turn of mind, and I enjoy the time I spend at the piano, but I fear my enjoyment of both far outruns what I am capable of achieving.”
“Your lack of pride does you great credit, Miss Bennet, and marks you out as a very different character to your elder sister.”
“Indeed,” continued Charlotte, “Mary has been a most accommodating guest, always willing to fall in with the wishes of others and never putting herself forward. It only makes it more unfortunate that she has as yet no permanent home where she could be appreciated as she deserves.”
Shocked, Mary turned towards Charlotte, who, busy with the tea things, did not return her look. Lady Catherine, taking another slice of the despised cake, noticed nothing at all.
“Yes, I cannot imagine you would be welcomed into the household at Pemberley. I doubt they have any desire to admit another into the tight little circle they have established there. And I don’t imagine you wish to settle in too close a proximity to your mother.
Your two younger sisters, for different reasons, offer no solution.
You find yourself in difficult circumstances, Miss Bennet. ”
“I am grateful to your ladyship for your consideration, but I have not decided what I will do next. I do not as yet feel as concerned for my prospects as you do.”
“You are not overburdened with choices,” continued Lady Catherine, as if Mary had not spoken; “but there is one situation for which you seem to me admirably suited. Mrs. Collins may not have told you that I am particularly interested in assisting young ladies with the talents and capacity to become governesses.”
Charlotte inclined her head slightly but said nothing. Mary felt fear rise in her.
“I always say,” continued Lady Catherine, “that nothing is to be done in education without steady and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can supply it. It is wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that way.”
“But I don’t want to become a governess,” protested Mary weakly. “I do not think I am at all suited to it. I know I would dislike it extremely.”
“I have just placed four nieces of Mrs. Jenkinson, all unmarried and likely to stay so, in the most delightful situations. Only the other day I recommended another young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite delighted with her.”
“Really, ma’am, I do beg you not to think of me in that way. My inclination does not lie in that direction at all.”
“Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalfe’s calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Lady Catherine,’ she said, ‘you have given me such a treasure.’ I think, Miss Bennet, that you have it within yourself to become exactly such a treasure as Miss Pope.”
“Forgive me for contradicting you, ma’am, but I fear that is not the case. I cannot say too often it is not a life I should want for myself.”
For a moment, Lady Catherine regarded Mary with incomprehension.
“But come, Miss Bennet, what do you propose instead? You are a plain woman with no money, inclined to be clever. We have already established marriage is unlikely for you. Do you wish to remain a burden on your friends and family for the rest of your life? No, depend upon it, governessing is the answer. Once you have considered it, you will see I am right. Mrs. Collins, I am most grateful to you for introducing Miss Bennet to me. It will be my pleasure to find her a place and to do so with the utmost despatch. Once a decision has been made in these matters, it does not do to delay.”
For the rest of her stay, Lady Catherine was almost gracious, wholly satisfied by the prospect of meddling in the life of a woman powerless to resist her. She was in the highest of spirits as she took her leave.
“I thank you, Mrs. Collins, for a most enjoyable and, may I say, productive afternoon. Miss Bennet, I shall write to you as soon as I have news, which will not, I think, be long in coming. No, do not thank me now, wait until you are properly settled before conveying your gratitude to me.”