Chapter Thirty-Four
He is punctual, at any rate,” Elizabeth whispered to Jane, as the family gathered outside in the chill autumn air to welcome the hired carriage that had just pulled in.
“I suppose that is a good thing in a clergyman,” Jane whispered back.
Mary, who had been looking forward to meeting their cousin, stepped forward a bit, eager to get a glimpse of him.
Sadly, she soon stepped back, as Mr. Collins, once he had emerged from the carriage, proved to be not at all well-looking.
He was a heavy man with a pasty-white complexion, wearing a black suit that was threadbare in some spots and rusty in others.
He removed his hat to make his bow, revealing a nearly bald pate with a good number of red splotches on his skull.
Jane whispered to Elizabeth, “He is not a handsome creature, but perhaps he has other attractions.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth returned. “We shall see soon enough.”
Upon righting himself, Mr. Collins began a long and evidently well-rehearsed speech about the beauty and charms of his female cousins, which Mr. Bennet thankfully cut short by suggesting that they return to the warmth of the parlour.
When everyone took seats, Mrs. Bennet rang for a tea tray. Mr. Collins stared at Jane. And stared. And stared. Jane thought she had become accustomed to being looked at a good deal, but was so evidently uncomfortable that finally Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and said, “Ahem! Mr. Collins?”
Recalled to his manners, Mr. Collins looked away from Jane and then around the room.
“Ah, yes! This is a pleasant room indeed, Mrs. Bennet. My compliments to you upon your decorating taste. Lady Catherine’s family drawing room has a rug quite similar to this one though, of course, quite a bit larger. ”
Mrs. Bennet had not had the privilege of reading Mr. Collins’ letter. “And who is Lady Catherine?”
Mr. Collins now gave his hostess his full attention.
“Why, she is my patroness, Mrs. Bennet! She owns an enormous estate called Rosings Park, and my humble home abuts her estate, separated by a mere lane, and a very narrow one at that! I believe I am not overly boastful when I say that she relies on me to provide sound Christian judgement whenever it is needed, and so I am an intimate of Rosings Park!” He went on in this vein for some time, demonstrating by many examples how her ladyship relied upon his wisdom for nearly all her decisions.
His voice was so full of pride that even Mary winced and had to look away.
“Poor Mary,” Elizabeth whispered to Jane. “All her illusions shattered at once!”
It was Mary who made the connection. She looked at Jane. “Rosings Park – is that not the name of the place Georgiana lived at this past summer?”
Mr. Collins sat straight up. “Georgiana? Is it possible that you are referring to Miss Darcy?”
Mary sat back, cowed by Mr. Collins’ tone, but Lydia, who had never yet been cowed by anything, answered for her. “Yes; she is living at Netherfield Park, which…” Her voice now became mirthful. “…is separated from Longbourn by a mere lane, and a very narrow one at that!”
Kitty burst out laughing, though she was quickly silenced by a sharp glance from her mother.
“Is Miss Darcy truly in the neighbourhood?” Mr. Collins demanded, looking at Mrs. Bennet.
“She is, yes,” Mrs. Bennet agreed. “A very pleasant young lady.”
“And you refer to her as Georgiana?” Mr. Collins almost bellowed at Mary.
Mary was near ready to crawl under her chair in her distress, so Elizabeth felt it necessary to intervene. “Mr. Collins, three of us are on a first name basis with Georgiana, and this is at her request.”
“I cannot believe that she would so forget herself,” Mr. Collins said. He sounded downright panicked. “I must write to her aunt, Lady Catherine, at once.”
Mrs. Bennet thought this an excellent time to usher Mr. Collins upstairs, and the Bennet family fell back in their chairs the moment the man left the room.
“Whew! I think he has not any other attractions after all, Lizzy,” Jane said.
Mary closed her eyes and sighed.
Quite unexpectedly, Mr. Bennet smiled at his middle daughter. “Do not take this too much to heart, Mary. England is not bereft of good Christian parsons; it just happens that your cousin is not one of them.”
Elizabeth spoke directly to her father. “Given what we have just heard, am I correct in assuming that his desire to marry one of us will not be granted?”
“Marry one of us? Surely not!” Jane protested. She looked at her father, panic in her eyes.
Mr. Bennet sighed. “He wrote in his letter that he was eager to be married, and thought it best to attempt to make amends to the family he might be displacing by marrying into it.”
Mary rallied. “Ah! See? Is that not a kindly gesture?”
“It is, Mary,” Elizabeth said, gently. “I do not think any man is all bad, and certainly not Mr. Collins. But he is overly prideful, which is not something that is generally encouraged in Christianity.” She quoted, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”
Mary promptly said, “James, chapter four, verse six.”
Jane added, “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”
To which Mary said, “Proverbs, chapter sixteen, verse eighteen.”
Unexpectedly, Mr. Bennet said, “Those whom the gods would destroy, they first make proud.”
Equally unexpectedly, Elizabeth said, “Sophocles.”
“Well done, Lizzy!” Mr. Bennet said. He was quite excited that he and Lizzy had actually had a friendly interchange.
He grinned widely at her, but the moment had passed, and she looked away.
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and said, solemnly, “There is no question of any of you marrying that fool. I promise you that.”
***
Dinner at Longbourn that night was not a pleasant affair. Mr. Collins spoke endlessly about his situation, his patroness, his parishioners, his cottage, on and on. It was Mr. Bennet who had finally had enough. “Have you questions for me, Mr. Collins?” he barked at last.
“Questions?”
“Yes; you are here for the first time at the estate that you will very likely inherit. Have you questions as to how it is run, what crops are grown, who the tenants are, anything of the sort?”
“Why, I supposed…” Mr. Collins trailed off, looking completely confused.
“You supposed? You supposed that the estate just ran itself, with no effort whatsoever on the part of its owner? You supposed the money just flowed into the coffers?”
Mr. Collins could not reply.
“Let me assure you that it does not run itself, nor does money simply flow into coffers. It requires an enormous amount of effort on the part of everyone in the family. Mrs. Bennet and the girls spend many hours sewing clothing for the tenants. Jane has taken responsibility for the stillroom, and provides medications of all kinds for illnesses. I decide what, when and how to plant and harvest. How do you plan to deal with these issues when it is you who sits in this chair?” Mr. Bennet’s words were clipped, his tone frosty.
Mr. Collins found his voice. “I assure you that Lady Catherine, my esteemed patroness, will be on hand to advise me as to such things as crops and tenants. I am by no means disheartened by the litany of tasks you have laid before me. In fact, when I sit in your chair –“
Mr. Bennet could bear no more. “I beg that you will excuse me, Mr. Collins.” With that, he got up and left the room.