Chapter 24 #2
“His name is Mr. Wickham,” added Kitty, helping herself to more peas. “And whilst we were talking to them, Mr. Bingley arrived, together with his friend, the tall, proud man who never speaks.”
“That would be Mr. Darcy,” explained Mrs. Bennet to Mr. Collins, “a very disagreeable man.”
“Really, ma’am!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “It cannot be fair to prejudice Mr. Collins against him to such a degree. We barely know the gentleman.”
Mrs. Bennet was unmoved.
“What we have seen of him is hardly to his credit. His haughtiness gave universal offence at the last assembly. I am sure no-one has a good word to say for him.”
“‘Judge not lest ye be judged in your turn,’” ventured Mary. “That is what Scripture enjoins upon us.” She looked towards Mr. Collins to see if he would approve.
“My cousin is right, of course,” he replied, favouring her with a bland smile. “But society, as well as Scripture, has its claims upon us all. No-one of us can afford to ignore what is owed to politeness.”
He tried to catch Elizabeth’s eye, but she occupied herself resolutely with her chicken.
“I thought Mr. Wickham seemed rather taken by Lizzy,” suggested Lydia with a grin. Elizabeth turned back to the table, her expression outraged.
“What can you mean, Lydia! Really, you are quite ridiculous!”
“He spoke to you far more than to any of us. And you didn’t appear to mind it.”
“That is quite enough,” declared Mrs. Bennet sharply, with a sideways glance at Mr. Collins. “Lydia always takes these little jokes too far.”
The rest of the meal proceeded in a distinctly subdued fashion.
Lizzy was embarrassed, Mr. Collins piqued, and Mrs. Bennet angry.
As soon as the table was cleared, Elizabeth escaped to her room whilst Mrs. Bennet pursued Lydia into the garden, where she could be scolded away from view.
Mary wandered aimlessly towards the drawing room, where she sat at the piano and began to play.
Soon she was quite lost in the music. A few minutes later, she saw Mr. Collins come in, but she continued with her playing until all the piece’s loose ends had been satisfactorily tied up and its complexities resolved.
When she turned to face him, he was smiling with what looked like genuine pleasure. “My congratulations, cousin. You play with great exactness. I imagine you practise a great deal to achieve such precision?”
Mary admitted this was so.
“I commend you for it. It is only through hard work that anything of value is to be achieved.”
“I am very pleased you enjoyed it.”
“I have often remarked to Lady Catherine that her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, would no doubt have been an excellent musician if her health had permitted her to learn an instrument. The weakness of her constitution unquestionably deprived us of a musician of the very greatest accomplishment.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. I would be happy to play for you again, if you wish.”
“Sadly, I must deny myself that pleasure, as I am engaged to your mother, who is to show me the disposition of her backstairs linen cupboards. Lady Catherine has condescended to suggest some improvements in that line might not go amiss in my humble parsonage, so I am keen to avail myself of Mrs. Bennet’s expert knowledge whilst I may. ”
He stood up, making his accustomed bow.
“But I must thank you for allowing me to listen to you. It filled an empty moment most pleasurably.”
After his departure, Mary sat at the keyboard, reflecting.
Although he had refused her offer to continue, Mr. Collins seemed to have enjoyed hearing her play.
Indeed, he had never before appeared so animated in her presence.
She stroked the keys noiselessly as she considered the implications of this.
Perhaps it was music and not reading that would best attract his attention?
She struck a single chord which echoed round the empty room.
If that was so—and the more she considered it, the more she was persuaded she was right—then she must do all in her power to show off her skills at the piano to their very best advantage, so that he could not help but notice both them and herself.
She was still wondering how this might be achieved when the door burst open and Kitty rushed in. “We’ve just heard the best possible news,” she gasped, her hat awry. “We’ve run in to tell everyone.”
“Yes, yes,” cried Lydia, following fast behind her. “There’s going to be a ball! At Netherfield! And it’s fixed for a week today.” She paused to catch her breath. “Mr. Bingley came in person to invite us. He met Lizzy and Jane in the garden. We saw him just before he went away. What news, eh?”
“He’s asked us all,” cried Kitty. “Even Mr. Collins. Mama will be so excited.”
“Did Mr. Bingley not think it proper to come in and ask our mother himself?” asked Mary.
“He was with his sisters, and they had not the time,” said Kitty.
“That doesn’t seem very polite.”
“Really, Mary!” Lydia exclaimed. “What does it matter who asked whom? Anyway, I’m sure it was his dreadful sisters who declined to come in.
They make it quite clear they think we’re beneath them—all those simpering smiles to Jane and nasty little sniggers to each other—don’t imagine I haven’t seen them—but I don’t care!
He has behaved admirably. He said he should hold a ball and he has been true to his word. ”
“Shall you go, Mary?” asked Kitty.
Mary picked up her music, turning the question over in her mind. If Mr. Collins was to be there, and if she was serious in her attempts to arouse his interest, she was clearly obliged to attend. The dance could be as much an opportunity for her as it was for any of her sisters.
“I think I might. I can work in the morning, and I think it right occasionally to join in evening entertainments. Society has its claims upon us all, and I think some moments of recreation and amusement are desirable for everyone.”
Lydia burst into laughter.
“You sound exactly like Mr. Collins! You were clearly meant for each other. What a pity it is that he has eyes only for Lizzy!”
At dinner that night, all conversation was directed to the coming ball.
Mrs. Bennet was consumed with anticipation.
She had convinced herself the ball was intended entirely as a compliment to Jane and, brushing away her daughter’s embarrassment, began to debate how quickly it would be followed by an offer from Mr. Bingley.
Her husband paid no attention to his wife’s speculations, but to the surprise of his family, announced that he too would attend.
Since Bingley had done him the honour to ask him, he should go and drink his wine and eat his supper and be as content as a sensible man could be in such a situation.
Elizabeth did not usually address Mr. Collins more than was required by the demands of politeness; but now, allowing goodwill to triumph over dislike, she unbent sufficiently to ask her cousin if, as a clergyman, he thought it proper to accept his invitation and join in the evening’s amusements. He gave his answer very determinedly.
“I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you, that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening.”
Lydia suppressed a giggle. Mrs. Bennet glared at her, as Kitty, Jane, and Lizzy stared away, in any direction but his. Only Mary steeled herself to gaze at him expectantly. But Mr. Collins turned, as she had suspected he would, towards Lizzy.
“I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the first dance especially.”
Elizabeth looked stricken, but was forced to agree.
Mr. Collins made no similar offer to Mary, which merely confirmed the conclusion she had arrived at earlier.
If she was to make any impression at all upon him, it must be through her skill at the piano.
Her looks could not help her, and he had barely acknowledged her studiousness, although she had done her utmost to parade it before him.
Music was the last remaining lure by which he might be persuaded to notice her; and the Netherfield ball offered the perfect opportunity to display the full extent of her talent.
There she would perform with such brilliance that neither he nor anyone else would be able to ignore her.
She sat back in her chair, pleased to have a plan.
She would arrange to have extra instruction from her music teacher to ensure her playing was at its very best. This was too important a moment to leave anything to chance.