Chapter 11 #2
By mid-morning the following day, Elizabeth was entirely out of patience with them both.
Lydia had greeted the inevitable issuance of her father’s punishment with a screaming fit that had devolved into endless complaints of disloyal sisters and horrid papas.
Meanwhile, Mr Collins remained Elizabeth’s devoted companion and so, therefore, did his bountiful conversation.
She seized upon a moment of distraction on his part when Mary called upon him to answer a doctrinal question which had been troubling her and slipped away, turning her steps towards Lucas Lodge and the company of her dear friend.
Miss Lucas was happy to abandon her needlework for a walk among the browning shrubbery of the Lodge’s garden, and to condole with her on the impossibility of driving sense into the thick skull of a much-younger sister.
“It seems to me you will have the opportunity to leave Lydia and her crotchets behind ere long,” she commented.
“Why, what can you mean?”
“Mr Collins, of course! He courts you so assiduously, I presume he will make you an offer, perhaps even before he returns to Kent. Have you not yet ascertained that this is whither his interest tends?”
She had not, but Charlotte’s words illuminated everything in an instant. The hints in his letter, his conversations with her mother which left Mrs Bennet smiling like a cat that has been in the cream, his persistence in seeking out her company.
“Oh, no. What am I to do?” She meant, of course, to solicit advice on how she might escape such a mortifying scene as a proposal she must refuse, but her friend took the question in a different light.
“I think you must seriously consider accepting him,” Charlotte suggested. “It could be the salvation of your family when your father is gone.”
“Salvation at what cost? Is it not for my father to make provision for us?”
“Will it comfort you to know that it was not truly your responsibility, should you find yourself dwelling with your mother and sisters in genteel poverty?” her friend countered.
“Perhaps not, but I cannot do it. He is a better man than I first thought, and there is a scrap or two of sense in his head, but he is too ridiculous, and his meddlesome patroness would drive me mad. I should be miserable every day of my life.”
“You would have a home of your own, and all the respectable occupation available to a clergyman’s wife.
In time, you would be mistress of Longbourn, and in a position to assist any of your sisters who were still at home, and your mother, too.
” She gentled her tone and added, “I do not say you must, Eliza, or that I will not respect you if you decide against him. But I urge you to weigh the practicalities as thoroughly as you have weighed your own desires.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I understand the practicalities, Charlotte, I do. But I also understand myself. I have not a temperament that allows me to long bear silently the fatuous and the thick-witted. Why do you think I still attempt to correct my mother’s wrong-headed notions after all these years?
I would make him as unhappy as he would make me, and that would not assist my family either. It is not to be thought of.”
“I do understand, Eliza. I would be delighted for the opportunity to marry any respectable gentleman who was not vicious, but you and I are not alike. Perhaps it was wrong of me to advise you to behave as I myself would.”
“No, Charlotte, you were entirely correct to urge me to consider all the factors. I understand that it may be best for my family if I were to accept him, and yet even with that inducement, I cannot wish to be other than I am, if such an alteration would see me wed to such a man. I must hope that I may find a way to discourage his interest before he comes to the point.”
“I shall bend my mind to the problem, and if I think of anything which might assist you in your purpose, I shall waste no time in telling you.”
“You are a most excellent friend, my dear Charlotte. If only we might divert his interest to you!” Elizabeth said sportively.
“I would not object,” Charlotte replied seriously. “Pray attempt it, if you are able. I am more than ready to make myself agreeable to him.”
“You shall have your chance tomorrow night at Haye-Park. I shall praise you within his hearing in the meanwhile.” Charlotte thanked her for the favour, and they walked along a little in silence until Elizabeth said soberly, “There is another matter on which I would solicit your advice, my wise friend.”
“I claim no particular wisdom, save that which the handful of years I have on you may bring, but I am always happy to hear any concern of yours.”
“During both of my encounters with Mr Wickham, his expressions were so seemingly unstudied, his demeanour so apparently open and honest, that I am convinced I should have believed and trusted in almost any tale he might choose to spin, had I not been early warned of his character by a gentleman in whom I have a firm confidence. And Mr Darcy, while not half so much the opposite of what he first seemed, has proved himself a more worthy man than the hateful creature I deemed him to be. Even Mr Collins has displayed a measure of good sense and kindness greatly at odds with the picture I first formed of him. Tell me truly, Charlotte, am I often mistaken in my initial judgment of those I meet?”
Charlotte did not speak for a long moment, her expression thoughtful.
“I should say that in ordinary cases you are a better judge than most. However, one who deliberately seeks to deceive is not an ordinary case, and too great a dependence on first impressions will give that sort of person an advantage over you. I think also that in relying so much on an assessment formed on first meeting, you deny some the opportunity to demonstrate that they possess qualities which are not immediately apparent, much less one of those intricate characters for which you have professed a fondness.”
Elizabeth smiled wryly. She could not refute anything her friend had said, nor did she want to.
“I am coming to believe that Mr Darcy is one of those intricate characters. What he said that first night was very bad, but I know now that he had some reason to be in a foul mood, though none to exercise it upon me. He has since displayed some good qualities as well. I have not yet made him out, but I do believe there is at least as much good as bad within him.”
“It occurs to me that his words were meant to persuade Mr Bingley to cease importuning him to enter the dance, and were not about you at all, in essence if not in effect. I do think it indicates a certain selfishness, to speak so under such slight provocation, but whether that is an immutable flaw of his character, or a consequence of being a young man of fortune, breeding, and fine appearance, who is too much praised, I cannot say.”
“Mr Bingley does not seem above himself, though he is handsome and rich,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“Mr Bingley is of a naturally sunny disposition, I think, and he is not the nephew of an earl. One need only look to his younger sister’s airs to understand that they have not been welcomed in the first circles with open arms.”
Elizabeth laughed. “She is entirely desperate to be seen as a great lady, is she not? I would feel sorry for her, for I think those whose favour she courts might like her better if she were humbler and did not lift herself up by tearing others down.”
“I agree with you entirely. Your first impression of her, and of her brother, her sister, and Mr Hurst, you need not question,” Charlotte said, chuckling.
“And what of Colonel Fitzwilliam? We have not canvassed his character.”
“I do not feel equipped to do so. My impression of him at first was of amiability, intelligence, and good breeding, yet the more I speak with him, the more I think that while none of that is false, there is a great deal more to him also.”
“And now it is for me to agree with you completely,” Elizabeth said. “He and his cousin are both interesting studies. If you will take Mr Collins off my hands, I shall have more leisure in which to observe them.”
“I can only promise most faithfully to try.”