Twelve #2
Elizabeth escaped upstairs only long enough to dress, intending to seize the first opportunity for a walk, but her mother intercepted her upon the staircase just as she reached for her bonnet.
"You shall do no such thing, Lizzy. The morning is far too cold, and I will not have you returning with a face red from the wind when Mr. Collins may arrive at any moment."
Finding resistance useless, Elizabeth surrendered both her bonnet and her hopes of Oakham Mount.
The remainder of the morning passed in answering questions she had no desire to answer, whether the blue chamber better became a clergyman than the smaller room beyond it, whether the best china ought to be brought down in case their guest arrived before dinner, and half a dozen other concerns that seemed of equal importance to Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth's thoughts wandered elsewhere.
She wondered whether Mr. Darcy had gone to Oakham Mount despite the uncertain weather, whether he had found the place deserted, and whether her absence had occasioned him even a passing thought.
The questions lingered more persistently than she wished to acknowledge, and she was still considering them when the sound of wheels upon the gravel announced the arrival of their long-expected cousin.
The whole family gathered at the door to receive him.
Mr. Collins proved a tall, broad gentleman, more substantial than elegant, with an air of solemn self-importance that announced itself before he had spoken a word.
He descended from the chaise with great ceremony and bowed profoundly to Mr. Bennet.
"My dear sir, I cannot sufficiently express the satisfaction I feel in finding myself at last beneath your roof. My late father spoke often of Longbourn, though I believe he never enjoyed the happiness of visiting it himself."
"I am pleased you have found your expectations fulfilled," said Mr. Bennet. "Allow me also to offer my condolences upon your father's death."
Mr. Collins acknowledged the sentiment with another elaborate bow before being presented to Mrs. Bennet and each of the young ladies. No sooner had the introductions concluded than Kitty and Lydia exchanged helpless smiles, while Mary regarded their cousin with quiet seriousness.
Elizabeth could not wholly blame her younger sisters.
Mr. Collins's appearance lacked every pretension to elegance.
His clothes bore the creases and dust of travel, his hair had surrendered to the journey, and there was an awkward heaviness about both his figure and his manner.
She hoped the neglect belonged to the road rather than to habit.
Once settled before the fire, Mr. Collins immediately began admiring the house.
Every room, every furnishing, every prospect from the windows received his approval, though scarcely a compliment escaped him without being measured against something superior at Rosings.
It was immediately apparent that her father had not exaggerated.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh governed not merely Mr. Collins's living, but his conversation, his opinions, and, Elizabeth rather suspected, his very thoughts.
By luncheon she had discovered another failing.
Mr. Collins ate with remarkable haste and very little refinement, while continuing to speak almost without interruption.
Before three hours had passed beneath the same roof, Elizabeth had formed him into a man of inexhaustible words and very limited discernment.
Before dinner, Mr. Collins's attention seemed first to fix upon Jane.
Mrs. Bennet was quick to perceive it, and, as though the matter had arisen naturally in conversation, observed that she had every reason to believe Jane would not long remain unmarried, a gentleman of considerable fortune having lately distinguished her with the most particular attentions.
Elizabeth saw Jane blush but offer no contradiction. She understood her mother's design perfectly, and was therefore unsurprised when Mr. Collins transferred his admiration to herself with equal readiness.
After supper, while the family assembled in the drawing room, he drew rather nearer than she found comfortable.
"Miss Elizabeth, I already find myself most favourably impressed by Longbourn and by its accomplished daughters. I hope, before my visit concludes, to enjoy the pleasure of becoming much better acquainted with you."
Elizabeth answered with every civility that politeness required, though with no encouragement beyond it.
Across the room, she caught her mother's look of unmistakable satisfaction and knew the exchange had fulfilled every expectation she had entertained since her father announced Mr. Collins's letter.
The evening brought more of the same. Mr. Collins discoursed at astonishing length upon Rosings, its magnificence, and the incomparable wisdom of Lady Catherine, whose every opinion appeared, in his estimation, worthy of reverence.
Elizabeth bore it with as much patience as she could command, though more than once her thoughts escaped to Oakham Mount and to the walk she had been prevented from taking.
When at last she retired, she was grateful to leave the day behind her. If the weather proved kinder on the morrow, she hoped to reclaim the walk she had lost, and with it, perhaps, the quiet company she found herself wishing for far more than she had expected.