Chapter Seven #3
The physician replied as though it had been a clear question, saying, “I shall respect what you always said, that you would wish to know your precise situation when in poor health. You have had a serious attack of apoplexy, but the lack of additional attacks since is a promising sign. I do not know whether your ability to speak or walk will ever return, and there is a likelihood you will suffer additional attacks within the next week that could kill you. You have a clergyman present, and you should take this opportunity to settle yourself and prepare to meet the Almighty. It is not certain that such is necessary, but to my grief, the chances are great.”
Mr. Bennet stared at his friend, then he closed his eyes; his breathing was easier, and he fell into what seemed an actual sleep, rather than the stupor of earlier in the day.
It was suggested by the doctor that it was safe to move him to his bedroom for the night rather than keeping him in the drawing room. The sofa would be less comfortable and the room more prone to draughts.
The footmen were called, and they carried Mr. Bennet to his bedroom, followed by Elizabeth, Jane, and Mr. Collins.
When Mr. Collins tried to enter the room, Elizabeth smiled at him and said, “If my father asks for you, I shall send for you, but otherwise, he will only be attended by Mary, Jane, and me while he sleeps.”
“Of course, lovely cousin, but do urge him to think of his soul if he awakens once more before the end.”
“I shall,” Elizabeth promised, hating the man’s words.
What would become of them if Papa died? If he really died?
Especially if Mr. Collins did not make an offer for one of them. And what would become of her if he did?
Tea was sent up for Elizabeth, and the maids brought everything that the physician had recommended for Mr. Bennet’s comfort and treatment.
Elizabeth realised that she had not drunk anything during the whole of the day, not since the morning.
She still could not make herself eat, but she was dreadfully thirsty, and over the course of ten minutes she refilled her cup repeatedly and drank the whole pot of tea.
When Jane came to join her, she sent her sister to bed, saying, “I shall just read aloud, and you and Mary can come to sit with him for a few hours after midnight so that I can sleep.”
She read from the Bible, and later from Tom Jones, until Mary and Jane came.
When Elizabeth went to her room, she passed the guest room in which Mr. Collins had been housed, and she heard his loud snoring. She was barely able to sleep, filled with grief, anxiety, and thoughts of her cousin.
The next morning, she was woken from her fitful slumber by low voices speaking outside her door.
She leapt from the bed, thinking that it was news about her father, but when she reached the door, she realised that it was her mother and Mr. Collins.
“One of my intentions for this visit is to find a mistress for my parsonage house amongst the daughters of Longbourn, and my interest in making such compensation for the grief that the entail must cause them is only made the greater by this sad situation, as we wait for the event that, while it may be delayed, can never be wholly avoided.”
“We are saved,” Mrs. Bennet said quietly yet fervently.
Then she added, “That is a kind, a generous, a disinterested plan! I know of no prior attachments upon the part of any of my daughters. For Jane, of course, such would be impossible. But I assure you, she will not be so much of a burden. She is a very quiet creature.”
“You need say no more upon that topic. I understand the kindness with which the Lord demands we treat the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and most especially the blind.”
“But all of them, Elizabeth especially, are biddable, capable girls.”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins replied. “I was struck by her beauty yesterday. I am most eager to offer help and kindness to her.”
The two moved away from the door, and Elizabeth then threw on her robe and went across to her father’s room.
So, Mr. Collins was her fate.
It was deserved after she had despised the handsome Mr. Bingley for his bland good nature. She was grateful Mr. Collins did not show any vicious tendencies. At least there had been none displayed in the half day that she had known him.
When Elizabeth stepped into Mr. Bennet’s room, she found Jane and Mary asleep and her father alive and snoring.
She let out a long breath. Papa was still alive.
But instead of looking at him, she studied Jane’s pockmarked sleeping face.
She could do it. She could bear the burden that had settled on her shoulders.
She would marry for the deepest love, even if it were not love for her husband. And she would, when she married, strive to be a good wife, because that is what Jane would expect of her, and that was how she would rightfully earn the care that her husband would give her sister.
When Mr. Collins asked her, she would not say no. She would even encourage him to make the offer.
If her father had been healthy, and certainly if none of her sisters had been blind and in need of support, she would have refused a man like her cousin without a thought.
But she must not imagine such a case. She must live in this world.