Chapter 10
THE REVEREND MR COLLINS
The next morning over breakfast, Mr Bennet surprised his family with the news that the heir to Longbourn, his distant cousin Mr William Collins, would be arriving to visit them just before dinner-time and staying a little less than a fortnight.
The imminent arrival of the man who would, as she so often claimed, see her and her daughters living in the hedgerows within a week of Mr Bennet’s demise, drove Mrs Bennet perilously close to a fit of hysterics.
That he acknowledged the effect of his future inheritance upon her daughters’ expectations and expressed an intention to make them some sort of amends was enough to temporarily mollify Mrs Bennet.
Mr Collins arrived, as he had written that he would, scarcely an hour before dinner.
He was a tall man of five and twenty, rather stout and possessed of a self-consciously stately air.
He was, he said in a positive flood of words, delighted to at last meet his Bennet relations, and happy to discover that the word he had received of his five cousins’ beauty was not at all exaggerated.
The house and its appointments, too, received his praise.
The dinner, which Mrs Bennet had stretched by sending Mary to the village for whatever fish was to be had, was admired with the full scope of his vocabulary, though he did offend his hostess by innocently enquiring which of his cousins had assisted in its preparation.
Having been frostily informed that the Bennets were well able to keep a cook and that none of their daughters had anything to do with the kitchens, he apologised so bountifully that she was soon appeased.
Throughout the meal he spoke of his great good fortune in securing his living and the attention of his patroness.
Of her, he could not speak too much; no paean, however lavish, could do her justice.
Elizabeth and her father resolutely kept their countenances, though they could not entirely resist glancing at each other when he pronounced some particularly amusing proof of ridiculousness.
In the morning, Lydia proposed a jaunt to Meryton, for one of her favourites among the officers had been in London for some days and had been supposed to return that morning.
All her sisters except Mary agreed to go with her, for the day was fine and they could wish for a little time away from their cousin’s ample conversation.
Mrs Bennet, alas, was swift to encourage Mr Collins to attend them, to which he readily agreed.
He addressed his manifold opinions to his cousins throughout their walk, and most particularly to Elizabeth, for reasons she could not fathom.
He spent a full ten minutes describing his parsonage to her and clearly expected that she should be awed by his good fortune in having such a home.
In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed until they entered Meryton.
The scant attention Lydia and Kitty had paid to him was now at an end, for there were trinkets to be seen in shop windows, and a whole street to be inspected for any sign of officers.
An officer was soon found—the very Mr Denny whom Lydia had hoped to see—and with him was a young man, a stranger of most gentlemanlike appearance.
Mr Denny swiftly secured permission to introduce his friend, Mr Wickham, who had come hither with him from town to take a commission in the regiment.
The newcomer was a handsome man, with fine features and an amiable mode of address.
He was perfectly ready to enter into conversation with them all, and the whole party were standing and talking together when the sound of horses drew their notice.
The gentlemen of Netherfield were riding down the street.
On catching sight of their company, a strange, feral sort of smile split the colonel’s face, and Elizabeth felt an instinctive urge to step backwards.
“Wickham!” he pronounced with a savage edge. “I have been hoping I might run into you since the summer. And here you are. How entirely splendid.”
Mr Darcy had reined in his horse and become rather red in the face as he, too, stared at Mr Wickham. His cousin continued to advance, Bingley trailing uncertainly a little behind. Mr Wickham, for his part, had gone very white indeed.
Wickham reached a trembling hand to the brim of his hat, froze in that posture as the colonel’s horse took two more steps in his direction, then turned and bolted as though the devil himself were on his heels.
The assembled company stared after him until he vanished around the side of the butcher’s shop.
“Would anyone care to tell me what brought that reprobate to this fine town?” Colonel Fitzwilliam enquired, all his easy, affable comportment perfectly restored. Elizabeth would later, in reflecting upon the scene, wonder what other depths lay beneath that changeable exterior.
Though visibly flustered, Mr Denny replied deferentially enough, “He has taken a commission in our regiment, Colonel, sir. If you will, I am curious what you have to say against him; he has been a fine companion to me whenever we have met.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam threw his head back and laughed.
“A commission! Ah, I have him now!” He shook his head and absently settled his restless mount as he addressed Mr Denny.
“I am certain you have thought him a friend indeed, for Wickham is not without the ability to please where he sees advantage to himself. As to what I say against him, I shall be circumspect as we are on a public street, and declare only that he is a liar, a profligate, a gamester, a leaver of debts, and a thoroughgoing scoundrel who ought not be trusted within ten feet of any lady between the ages of thirteen and sixty.”
If that was circumspection, Elizabeth thought that perhaps she would not wish to hear the full accounting.
He swung himself off his horse. “If you are going back to camp, Mr Denny, I shall accompany you. I believe Forster should know what sort of man he has admitted into his ranks.”
“Fitzwilliam,” Darcy said in a warning tone.
The colonel fixed him with a determined look.
“Be at ease, Cousin. I know what I am about. He will almost certainly attempt to spread lies to save his own skin, but he is only ever believed by those who know not what he is. You may best assist me by writing to your man in London and having him send the receipts of Wickham’s debts by swift courier.
No one can think him at all honest upon beholding those. ”
Mr Denny enquired timidly, “Wickham has left debts, sir, which Mr Darcy has paid?”
“Several hundred pounds’ worth,” the colonel confirmed.
“Not for the scoundrel’s sake, mind you, but that the merchants who were duped might not be ruined.
And perhaps somewhat for the memory of his father, my uncle Darcy, who was Wickham’s godfather.
Let us go to your colonel, Denny, and I shall tell you how it came about that such a good man was godfather to such a reprehensible one. ”
The two soldiers walked off, and Elizabeth noted that Mr Darcy seemed very uncomfortable. He tipped his hat at them and said, “If you will excuse me, it seems I have an express to send.”
The ladies immediately dropped into curtseys, interrupted by a most unwelcome voice. “Excuse me! Excuse me, sir!” Mr Collins exclaimed, running up to him and executing a sweeping bow. “Would you happen to be Mr Darcy of Pemberley, who is nephew to Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”
The gentleman’s astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. “I am he,” he replied in a clipped tone, which did nothing to dissuade the clergyman.
Why, this is extraordinary, thought Elizabeth. That her cousin’s meddlesome patroness should be aunt to Mr Darcy was a strange coincidence indeed.
“How wonderful that we should meet!” Mr Collins exclaimed, hopping from foot to foot in his excitement.
“I am the Reverend William Collins, the fortunate recipient of the living at Hunsford under the auspices of your noble aunt.” He bowed again, his forehead nearly touching his toes.
“I am in the fortunate position of being able to assure you that she and the lovely Miss de Bourgh were both well only the day before yesterday, when I dined with them at Rosings Park.”
Nonplussed, Mr Darcy replied, “Thank you for that information, sir. I truly must be going.”
He began to wheel his mount around. Collins dropped into another bow, and Bingley called after his friend, “I shall join you shortly, Darcy!” Returning his attention to the ladies, and particularly Jane, he smiled brightly. “We intended to call at Longbourn to ask after you, Miss Bennet.”
Jane assured him that she was much recovered. Mr Collins watched his patroness’s nephew ride away until he was out of sight, before attempting to locate Elizabeth. Luckily for her, just as he spotted her among her sisters, Charlotte Lucas appeared at her side.
“I was walking up the lane when I saw a stranger running from your group,” she said, with a look of curiosity. “And it seems Colonel Fitzwilliam departed with Mr Denny?”
“He has gone to speak with Colonel Forster. The stranger you saw was Mr Wickham, who has only just entered into the regiment. We were becoming acquainted with him when Colonel Fitzwilliam and the other gentlemen came up. The colonel greeted him with clear dislike, and Mr Wickham simply turned tail and ran,” she explained to her friend in a hushed tone.
“The colonel then informed us that Mr Wickham is embroiled in every sort of vice, and he and Mr Denny went to inform Colonel Forster. I will tell you the details when we may be more private.”
“My goodness,” Charlotte breathed. “And such a man is to stay here through the winter?”
“So it would seem. At least we are warned of his nature by someone we know. Brief though our acquaintance has been, I do not doubt Colonel Fitzwilliam’s word.
Mr Wickham seemed very amiable and charming, and I must suppose that if not for the happenstance of there being those at Netherfield who could give us an account of him, we should all have welcomed him as a friend. ”
“It causes one to wonder about the rest of the officers,” Charlotte murmured.
It had not, in fact, made Elizabeth wonder about them until her friend voiced the notion, though it would have occurred to her in time, no doubt.
Awakened to the danger by Charlotte’s wise words, however, other concerns swiftly arose.
“I must find a way to separate my youngest sisters from the officers,” she whispered into Charlotte’s ear, fearful of any other hearing.
“Imagine what might befall us, the way they have been acting, if any of their favourites were to prove untrustworthy.”
Charlotte, nearly as fond of the Bennets as of her own family, blanched. “Maria is not much better,” she whispered back. “We must both speak to our fathers.”
Elizabeth nodded. Nearby, Mr Collins coughed emphatically, and she saw that he was regarding them with interest and expectation. Internally, she sighed, but outwardly she smiled and said, “Charlotte, may I introduce you to my father’s cousin, who has come to visit us?”
Her friend agreed, and Mr Collins proclaimed himself delighted to know any friend of ‘dear Cousin Elizabeth’. Before he could make himself truly ridiculous, however, another seized the role for herself.
“Well, I do not care what he says!” Lydia exclaimed, stamping her foot.
Kitty, towards whom this outburst was directed, flinched.
“It seems likely to me that Colonel Fitzwilliam is just jealous, ill-featured fellow that he is. Mr Wickham is far too handsome and amiable to be a scoundrel,” she concluded with a decisive nod of her empty little head, crossing her arms over her chest for good measure.
Jane and Mr Bingley were staring at Lydia in disbelief.
Charlotte was watching with narrowed eyes, while several of their neighbours beheld the spectacle with clear disapproval, and as she drew breath to rebuke her youngest sister, Elizabeth felt her cheeks growing warm.
Before she could, however, Mr Collins stepped forth and said sternly, “That is quite enough, Cousin Lydia. Better that you should remain silent than shame your good sisters by speaking such foolishness. My patroness has spoken of Colonel Fitzwilliam; he is her nephew as well, descended from a proud and noble line, and that you should attribute such base motives to a man of his stamp only proves that your judgment is severely lacking. Does not Scripture warn us that charm is deceitful and beauty is vain? Think upon that, young cousin, before you speak again in defence of one whose only virtues are a pleasant face and a nimble tongue.”
Though his conclusion that the colonel’s descent made him trustworthy was not at all sound, the rest of this speech was filled with more good sense than Elizabeth would have thought to find in Mr Collins over the course of a month. It shocked her into speechlessness.
Charlotte said firmly, “Just so, Mr Collins. Thank you for saying what we were all thinking.” He bowed to her with a little smile.
Lydia, unfortunately, recovered quickly. “I do not have to listen to you! You are not my father.”
“You most certainly do have to listen to Mr Collins, Lydia,” Elizabeth interjected. “He is our male relation, and in the absence of our father and uncle, we are under his protection. He has said you are to be silent, and I strongly suggest that you obey. Unless you wish to face Papa’s wrath?”
Mr Bennet, on the rare occasions he could be made to discipline his youngest, invariably resorted to denying her the next quarter’s pin money.
It was a simple but effective strategy, and ensured that Lydia rarely did anything bad enough to bring his anger down upon herself.
The threat alone was sufficient to shut her mouth in that moment, though Elizabeth knew it would not last long.
“As we came with no particular purpose,” she added, smiling at her other sisters, “I think it best we return to Longbourn. I mean to inform my father of the sort of man who will be living among us.”
“And I think it best I tell mine,” Charlotte agreed.
Mr Bingley, though patently disappointed to be so soon separated from Jane, farewelled them all with characteristic good humour and rode off towards Netherfield as the Bennets and Mr Collins turned their steps towards Longbourn.
So grateful to the clergyman was she that Elizabeth did not attempt to avoid his offered arm and bore his prattling with greater forbearance than she would previously have thought possible.