Pride and Prejudice - Vol 1, Chapters 20-23

CHAPTER XX Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his successful love. For Mrs. Bennett, having dobbled about in the vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open the door and with quick step past her towards the staircase, then she entered the breakfast room and congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy prospect of their near connection. Mr. Collins received in return these felicitations with equal pleasure and then proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview with the result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character. This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennett. She would have been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it and could not help saying so. But to pen upon it, Mr. Collins, she added that Lizzie shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. She is a very headstrong foolish girl and does not know her own interest, but I will make her know it. He threatened me for interrupting you, Madame, Mr. Collins, but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me because of liable to such defects of temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity. Sir, you quite misunderstand me, said Mrs. Bennett, alarmed. Lizzie is only headstrong and such matters as these. And everything else, she's as good nature to girls, ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennett, and we shall very soon settle it with her. I am sure. She would not give him time to reply, but herring instantly to her husband called out as she entered the library. Oh, Mr. Bennett, you are wanted immediately. We are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzie marry Mr. Collins. For she vows, she will not have him. And if you do not make haste, he will change his mind and not have her. Mr. Bennett raised his eyes from his book as she entered and fixed them on her face with a calm, unconcerned, which was not in the least altered by her communication. I have not the pleasure of understanding you, said he, when she had finished her speech. Of what are you talking? Of Mr. Collins and Lizzie. Lizzie declares she will not have Mr. Collins. And Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzie. And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business. Speak to Lizzie about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him. Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion. Mrs. Bennett rang the bell and Mrs. Elizabeth was summoned to the library. Come here child, quite her father, she appeared. I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true? Elizabeth replied that it was. Very well. And this offer of marriage you have refused. I have, sir. Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon you accepting it. Is not it so, Mrs. Bennett? Yes, or I will never see her again. An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins. And I will never see you again if you do. Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning. Mrs. Bennett, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed. What do you mean Mr. Bennett by talking in this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him. My dear replied her husband. I have two small favors to request. First, that you allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion. And secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be. Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did Mrs. Bennett give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again, coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavored to secure Jane in her interest. But Jane, with all possible mildness, declined in her fearing. And Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness and sometimes with playful gaity, replied to her attacks. Though her man are varied, however, her determination never did. Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin could refuse him. And though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other way. His regard for her was quite imaginary. And the possibility of her deserving her mother's reproach prevented his feeling any regret. While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to her, cried in a half whisper, I'm glad you were come, for there is such fun here. What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzie, and she will not have him. Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they were joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same news. And no sooner had they entered the breakfast room where Mrs. Bennett was alone, then she likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and in treating her to persuade her friend Lizzie to comply with the wishes of all her family. Pray, do, my dear Miss Lucas. She added in a melancholy tone, for nobody's on my side. Nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used. Nobody feels for my poor nerves. Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance of Jane in Elizabeth. I, there she comes, cried Mrs. Bennett, looking as unconcerned as may be and caring no more for us, and if we were at York, provided she can have her own way. But I tell you what, Miss Lizzie, if you take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, you'll never get a husband at all. And I am sure I do not know who's to maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you, and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking to undueful children, not that I have much pleasure indeed in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer, but it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitted. Her daughters listened in silence to the suffusion sensible that any attempt to reason with or sooth her would only increase the irritation. She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered with an air more stately than usual, and on perceiving whom she said to the girls, Now, I do insist upon it that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and let Mr. Collins and me have a little conversation together. Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could, and Charlotte detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending not to hear. In a doleful voice, Mrs. Bennett thus began the projected conversation. Oh, Mr. Collins, my dear Madame replied, he, let us be forever silent on this point. Far be it for me, he presently continued in a voice that marked his displeasure to resent the behavior of your daughter. Resignation to inevitable evils is the duty of us all. The peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment, and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive happiness, had my fair cousin honored me with her hand. For I have often observed that resignation is never so perfect, as when the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your family, my dear Madame, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your daughter's favor, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennett the compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may I fear be objectionable in having accepted my dismission from your daughter's lips instead of your own, but we are all liable to error. I have certainly met well through the whole affair. My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my manner has been at all reprehensible, I hear beg leave to apologize. Chapter 21 The discussion of Mr. Collins' offer was now nearly at an end, and Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings, necessarily attending it, and occasionally from some pivish illusion of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, his feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection or by trying to avoid her, but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and the asidious attentions which he had been so sensible of himself, were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and especially to her friend. The Morrow produced no bateman of Mrs. Bennett's ill-humour or ill-health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay. After breakfast, the girls walked to Mariton to inquire if Mr. Wickham were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball. He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their aunts, whereas regret and vexation, and the concern of everybody was well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged that the necessity of his absence had been self-imposed. I found, said he, as the time drew near, that I'd better not meet Mr. Darcy, that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself. She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a full discussion of it, and for all the commendation which they civilly bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with them to Longborn. And during the walk, he particularly attended to her. His accompanying them was a double advantage. She felt all the compliment it offered to herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing him to her father and mother. Soon after they returned, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennett. It came from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little hot press paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand. And Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation. But Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from Wickham, and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs. When they'd gained their own room, Jane taking out the letter said, this is from Caroline Bingley, what it contains a surprised me a good deal. The whole party of left Netherfield by this time and are on their way to town, and without any intention of coming back again, you shall hear what she says. She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprise the information of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to die in that day in Grovesner's street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next was in these words, I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dear friend. But we will hope it's some future period to enjoy many returns of the delightful inner course we have known, and in the mean while may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence, I depend on you for that. To these high-flown expressions, Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of distrust, and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really to lament. It was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley's being there, and as to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane Masunceys to regard it in the enjoyment of his. It is unlucky, said she after a short pause, that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to which Ms. Bingley looks forward may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful inner course who have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as sisters. Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them. Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you. When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business would shook him to London, might be concluded in three or four days. But as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town, he will be in no hurry to leave it again. We have determined on following him, Thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are already there for the winter. I was sure to hear that you, my dear friend, had any attention of making one in the crowd, but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas and Hertfordshire may abound in the Gades which that season generally brings, and that your bow will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you. It is evident by this, at a jane, that he comes back no more this winter. It is only evident that Ms. Bingley does not mean he should. Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master, but you do not know all. I will reach to the passage, which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from you. Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister, and to confess the truth, we are scarce to this eager to meet her again. I really do not think George J. Anodarcy has her equal for beauty elegance and accomplishments, and the affection she inspires in the weasen myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her, being hereafter, our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to my feelings on the subject, but I will not leave the country without confiding them. And I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother, at Myers, are greatly already. He will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing, her relations all wish the connection as much as his own. An sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances, to favor an attachment and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many? What think you of this sentence, my dear Lizzie, said Jane as she finished it? Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister? That she is perfectly convinced for brothers and difference, and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means most kindly to put me on my guard. Can there be any other opinion on the subject? Yes, there can, for mine is totally different. Will you hear it? Most willingly. You shall have it in few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in the hope of keeping him there and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you. Jane shook her head. Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I'm sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. What chiefs seen half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself? She would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this. We are not rich enough or grand enough for them. And she is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that when there has been one inner marriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second, in which there is certainly some ingenuity. And I dare say it would succeed if Mr. Burg were out of the way. But my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday. Or that it will be in her power to persuade him that instead of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend. If we thought alike of Miss Bingley replied Jane, your representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of willfully deceiving anyone. And all that I can hope in this case is that she has deceived herself. That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived by all means. You have now done your duty by her, and must threaten no longer. But my dearest sister, can I be happy even supposing the best in accepting a man who's sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere? You must decide for yourself, Settle is with. And if upon mature deliberation you find that the misery of disablaging his two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him. How can you talk so, said Jane, faintly smiling? You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate. I do not think you would. And that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion. But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be required. A thousand things may arise in six months. The idea of his returning no more, Elizabeth treated with the utmost contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline's interested wishes. And she could not for a moment suppose that those wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man so totally independent of everyone. She represented to her sister as forcibly as possible what she felt on the subject. And as soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect, Jane's temper was not responding. And she was gradually led to hope, though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope that Bingley would return to Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart. They agreed that Mrs. Bennett should only hear of the departure of the family without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman's conduct. But even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern. And she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation of thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again and soon dining at Longborn. And the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration that though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take care to have two full courses. Chapter 22 The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucas's, and again during the Chief of the day was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. It keeps him in good humor, said she, and I am more obliged to you than I can express. Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction and being useful, and that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was very amiable, but Charlotte's kindness extended farther than Elizabeth had any conception of. Its object was nothing less than to secure her from any return of Mr. Collins's addresses by engaging them towards herself, such as Miss Lucas's scheme, and appearances were so favorable that when they parted at night she would have felt almost sure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. But here she did injustice to the fired independence of his character, for it led him to escape at a long-board house then next morning, with admirable slinus, and hastened to Lucas's lodge to throw himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not fail to conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known till its success could be known likewise. For though feeling almost secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively different since the adventure of Wednesday. His reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house and instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there. In a short time as Mr. Collins' long speeches would allow, everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both, and as they entered the house he earnestly and treated her to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men. And though such a solicitation must be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness, the stupidity with which he was favored by nature must guard his courtship for many charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance. And Miss Lucas, who had accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that establishment were gained. Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent, and it was bestowed with the most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins' present circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune, and his prospects at future wealth were exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas began directly to calculate with more interest than the matter had ever excited before how many years longer Mr. Bennett was likely to live. And Sir William gave it as his decided opinion that whenever Mr. Collins should be in possession of the long-born estate, it would be highly expedient that both he and his wife should make their parents at St. James's. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the occasion. The younger girls formed hopes of coming out a year too sooner than they might otherwise have done, and the boys are relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte's dying and old maid. Charlotte, herself, was tolerably composed. She had gained her point and had time to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable. His society was irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still, he would be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her object. It was the only honorable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative for want. This preservative she had now obtained, and at the age of 27, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise at most occasion to Elizabeth Bennett, whose friendship she valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and it probably would blame her. And though her resolution should not be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such disapprobation. She resolved to give her the information herself, and therefore charged Mr. Collins when he returned to Longborn to dinner to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty. For the curiosity excited by his long absence, burst forth in such very direct questions on his return, as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to publish his prosperous love. As he was to begin his journey, too early on the morrow, to see any of the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies moved for the night, and Mrs. Bennett with great politeness and cordiality said how happy they should be to see him at Longborn again whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit them. My dear madam, he replied, this invitation is particularly gratifying because it is what I have been hoping to receive, and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as possible. They were all astonished, and Mr. Bennett, who could by no means wish for so speedy return, immediately said, but as their not-danger of Lady Catherine's disapprobation here, my good sir, you had better neglect your relations than run the risk of offending your patroness. My dear sir, replied Mr. Collins, I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon why not taking so materialist step without her lady's concurrence. You cannot be too much on your guard, risk anything rather than her displeasure, and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home and be satisfied that we shall take no offense. Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such affectionate attention, and depend on it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, as well as for every other mark of your regard during my stay in hurt-friture. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not accepting my cousin Elizabeth. With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew, all of them equally surprised to find that he mediated a quick return. Mrs. Bennett was to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others. There was a solidity in his reflections, which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very agreeable companion. But on the following morning every hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and an private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before. The possibility of Mr. Collins, fencing himself in love with her friend, had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two, but the Charlotte could encourage him, seemed almost as far from possibility as that she could encourage him herself. And her astonishment was consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and she could not help crying out. Engaged Mr. Collins, my dear Charlotte, impossible. The city countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct or reproach. Though as it were no more than she expected, she soon regained her composure and calmly replied, why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you? But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a strong effort forward, was able to assure her with tolerable firmness that the prospect of the relationship was highly grateful to her, and that she wished her all imaginable happiness. I see what you were feeling, replied Charlotte. You must be surprised, very much surprised, so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you've had time to think it all over, I hope you'd be satisfied with what I've done. I'm not romantic, you know, I never was. I ask only a comfortable home, and considering Mr. Collins' character, connections and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state. Elizabeth quietly answered undoubtedly, and after an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was unleft to reflect on what she had heard. It was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The strangest of Mr. Collins making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte's opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she could not have supposed it possible that when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling to world the advantage. Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a most humiliating picture, and to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunken her esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen. Chapter 23 Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them and much self-gradulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter to an audience not merely wondering but incredulous. For Mrs. Bennett, with more perseverance than politeness protested, he must be entirely mistaken, and Lydia always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed, Good Lord, Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy? Nothing less than the complacence of a courteer could have borne without anger such treatment, but Sir William's good breeding carried him through it all, and though he begged to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forebearing courtesy. Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself, and endeavored to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she was readily joined by Jane. And by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London. Mrs. Bennett was in fact too much overpowered to say great deal while Sir William remained, but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vend. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter. Secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in. Thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together, and fourthly that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole. One, that Elizabeth was a real cause of all the mischief, and the other that she herself had been barbariously used by them all. And on these two points, she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing appease her, nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her. A month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their daughter. Mr. Bennett's emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort. For it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to think, tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his daughter. Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match, but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness, nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas. For Mr. Collins was only a clergyman, and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Mariton. Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to her tort on Mrs. Bennett the comfort of having a daughter well-married, and she called it longborn, rather often her than usual, to say how happy she was. Though Mrs. Bennett's sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away. Between Elizabeth and Charlotte, there was a restraint which kept the mutually silent on the subject, and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment and Charlotte made her turn with fondre regard to her sister, on whose reciditude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return. Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days, till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins, arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the slimnity of gratitude, which a twelve-months-a-bode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them with many rapturous expressions of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbor, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society, that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at longborn, whether he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight. For Lady Catherine, he added, so hardly approved his marriage, that she wished to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable charlat, to name an early day for making him the happiest of men. Mr. Collins returned to Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennett. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come to longborn instead of to Lucas Lodge. It was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable, such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennett, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley's continued absence. Neither Jane nor Lisbeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any such tidings of him, then the report would shortly prevailed in Meriton, of his coming no more to Netherfield, the whole winter. A report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennett, and which she never failed to contradict, as a most scandalous falsehood. Even Lisbeth began to fear not that Bingley was indifferent, but that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away, unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequently recurring. The United efforts of his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment. As for Jane, her anxiety, under the suspense was, of course, more painful than Lisbeth's. But whatever she felt, she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Lisbeth therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back, she should think herself very ill-used. It needed all Jane's steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquility. Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longborn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention, and luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longborn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed. Mrs. Bennett was really in a most pitiful state. The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went, she was sure of hearing it talkative. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession, and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that they were talking of the Longborn estate, and resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house, as soon as Mr. Bennett were dead, she complained bitterly of all this to her husband. Indeed, Mr. Bennett said she, it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for her and live to see her take my place in it. My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts, let us hope for better things, let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor. This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennett, and therefore, instead of making any answer, she went on as before. I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it. What should not you mind? I should not mind anything at all. Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility. I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennett, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away in a state from one's own daughters I cannot understand, and all for the sake of Mr. Collins, too. Why should he have it more than anybody else? I leave it to yourself to determine, said Mr. Bennett. End of volume one.