Chapter Eighteen #3
“You will be happy with Mr. Darcy,” Charlotte said.
“You need fear nothing except some minor difficulties and perhaps a storm or two as you learn each other’s ways.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
But I see it in the way you talk to each other.
You will be happy with him. And I am glad, glad, glad to know it.
” Charlotte’s voice choked. “I always wanted to see you happy. There is nothing that makes me so happy as to believe that you will be happy—not my own marriage, not anything else.”
“He says that he cannot love. He believes that he cannot make any woman happy. And…he is often so quiet. So…”
“He loves you,” Charlotte replied. “From the outside it is clear.”
“I wish you were marrying a man whom you could love!”
“No, no, no.” Charlotte laughed. “Do not insult the man that I shall marry—I do not think I could ever love a man. I have never thought much of men, nor of marriage. Marriage gives me an establishment to be the mistress of—Mr. Collins is exactly the sort of husband I want. He does not expect me to really love him. I would hate to be married to a husband who expected more feeling from me than I could ever give him. I am satisfied. I shall be most content. And I cannot even be sorry that my marriage is taking me from you, since you will leave the neighbourhood first.”
“We shall see each other often. Mr. Darcy stays with his aunt in Kent for a week every Easter. I, too, will be blessed to be for a time in the presence of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Charlotte laughed. “No, no. Do not jest about that! It will be my duty to always be at her service. You will simply be the unwanted niece by marriage whom she can control in no meaningful way—I shall look forward to seeing you more than anything.”
Almost as soon as the two of them rejoined the others, Charlotte went to Mr. Collins, took his hand, and announced their engagement.
Mrs. Bennet was quite disgruntled, and she gave her congratulations with as much ill-humour as could be managed, while remaining technically within the bounds of formal politeness.
Elizabeth thought that her mother had not given up hope of attaching Mary to Mr. Collins—the disinterest of Kitty and Lydia in the clergyman had forced her to abandon any hopes she might have had for one of them.
Mr. Darcy and Georgiana gave the happy couple their congratulations.
Mr. Darcy’s were given with a keen look, a steady voice, and a glance at Elizabeth which seemed to ask her whether she thought her friend to be of sound mind.
Elizabeth said to him, “I am very happy for my friend, and for my cousin.”
“As you should be,” Mr. Collins replied, “for marriage is an institution beyond all others, designed for the promotion of human happiness, as you must know yourself, being so recently married.”
Georgiana’s congratulations had a confused tone to them, but she was sincere in hoping for Charlotte’s happiness.
Later, in the carriage, Georgiana said that she could never have imagined a woman could fall in love with Mr. Collins, but that if Miss Lucas thought she would be happy with him, she was pleased for her.
To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr. Bennet was the only one who was sincerely glad for the couple, or at least for Charlotte.
Elizabeth detected no irony or amusement when he stood on his own and walked forward a few steps, supporting himself on the table, so that he could shake Charlotte’s hand.
“Congratulations, my sincere congratulations. I have at times fretted over you, but I think this promises you every good that you can hope for.” Seeing that Mr. Collins was on the other side of the room, speaking at some length to Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet lowered his voice and added, “As much as I respect my cousin, there are few sensible women who could make a good choice by marrying him, but I believe that you are one. His presence has been of good fortune to the both of you.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte said sincerely.
“You have been a good friend to my Lizzy, and I am satisfied to see you so well settled. Should I die before your nuptials, consider Longbourn as a wedding present.”
Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, “Do not joke about it!”
“One must laugh whilst one can,” Mr. Bennet replied.
Elizabeth tried to be amused.
There was a little voice in her head begging God: Do not let Papa die. Do not let him ever die.
The rest of the morning passed so quickly.
She went up to her room and helped Sarah pack her belongings into her trunk, deciding which gowns would simply be given away.
She gave gifts to the servants and accepted them from her mother.
Emily ran about and sobbed several times before falling asleep half an hour before noon, surprising everyone since the girl seldom napped at all.
And suddenly the time came to leave.
Mr. Bingley arrived with the carriages, the trunks were packed, Elizabeth hugged her mother, her father, Jane, Mary, Kitty, Lydia, and Charlotte.
She cried.
Then she went outside in her travelling gown, Mr. Darcy helped her into the carriage, climbed in after her, and they set off into the future.