Chapter 24
Elizabeth smiled at Jane; she had arisen especially early, even though she did not normally, and they had all had a late night at the Netherfield Ball.
Jane had an air of suppressed excitement about her that had nothing to do with last night and everything to do with today.
Elizabeth was happy for her, but she knew Jane need not have arisen early; Mr Bingley was not likely to call before eleven, but she supposed that Jane would not have been able to sleep either way.
Mr Collins sat across from them at the table, close to Mr Bennet, but none of the rest of the family had arisen.
Mrs Bennet and Mary were likely still fatigued from the night before, and Kitty and Lydia likewise, as they had stayed up to await their families' return.
Lydia had wanted to hear all about the ball, and Kitty could not be the only one to go to bed early.
Mr Collins’ face held a slight smile, and it lent a little handsomeness to his usually severe countenance.
“Well, Jane, you are up, that is good,” Mrs Bennet said, entering the breakfast room with Hill fussing beside her. “For I am sure that Mr Bingley will call as soon as may be,” she said.
Elizabeth and her father shared a look of amusement; nothing would have normally gotten her mother out of bed at such an early hour.
“But you must go at once and change into your pink muslin,” Mrs Bennet said. “You will want to look your best when Mr Bingley arrives.”
Jane looked uncertain, and Elizabeth stood. “I will help you change, Jane,” she said, and Jane arose and, with a nod, excusing herself, they both went to Jane’s room.
“I do not know what Mama is on about,” she said, as they entered her bedchamber. “I have no expectation of Mr Bingley calling only the morning after the ball.”
“Oh, do you not?” Elizabeth asked. “I suppose it is just a coincidence that your hair is done up so carefully this morning.”
Jane threw a pillow from the bed at Elizabeth in revenge for the teasing, but her face was suffused in a smile.
“Do you really think he will call today?” she asked.
“You know quite well that he will,” Elizabeth responded. “He made his intentions very clear last night.”
But when eleven o’clock arrived, and there was still no sign of Mr Bingley, Jane began to look pale.
“Well, my dear, what I have to tell you is not pleasant,” their Aunt Philips said, addressing Jane.
She had arrived from Meryton not ten minutes ago.
They all loved their aunt, but she was a gossip of the highest order, and even though they knew that gossiping was bad, they always listened.
“I am so sorry,” she said, and took Jane’s hand.
All colour had now left Jane’s face, and her mother’s had filled with bright red.
“I have just had it from Mrs Wentworth, the Netherfield housekeeper, that the house is being closed up, and the Bingley party have already all departed for town, with no intentions of returning.”
Jane let out a plaintive cry, which was overshadowed by Mrs Bennet’s much louder vocalisation.
“I take it they made no farewells at Longbourn then?” their Aunt Philips asked. “They have creeped away like thieves in the night, with no acknowledgments of any in the vicinity, and after Mr Bingley having raised such expectations of everyone in the neighbourhood.”
The days that followed Mr Bingley's unannounced withdrawal from the neighbourhood held many mortifications for poor Jane.
The married ladies and their single daughters all called on Jane, demonstratively to condole, but Elizabeth secretly thought they merely called to gain titillation from the repetitions of poor Jane.
Jane was the most beautiful young lady of the neighbourhood, and now they could all feel a sense of superiority at her being overthrown by Mr Bingley.
“I cannot express how much this time with you all has meant to me,” Mr Collins said, as he bid them goodbye. It was time for him to return to his parish. “I will miss you all and hope that it is not too long until we all see each other again.”
“William,” Mr Bennet said, patting him on the back.
“I am sorry I did not reach out to you in your younger years. I can only say that we are all richer for having finally met you, and I believe I can safely say this on behalf of myself, my wife, and all my daughters. We have enjoyed having you visit with us, and we hope it will not be long until it is repeated.”
“Thank you, Thomas,” Mr Collins said, sending smiles to Mrs Bennet and all his young cousins.
“I hope that you and one or two of my cousins will come this spring to visit me in Hunsford. I have gained a family I never thought to have, and I am loath to give it up,” he said, and they were all deeply touched by his sentiments.
But his last words were to Jane. “Dearest cousin Jane, I pray you will not continue to break your heart for a man who has proved himself so unworthy.”
Elizabeth, who, on the arrival of Mr Collins, and like her father, had not held much optimism for his stay, was glad to have been proven wrong. For Mr Collins had added materially to the family party and in his short time with them had become a welcome part of their family.