第 二十三 章 · 第23章

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-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the

houses, he unfolded the matter,--to an audience not merely wondering,

but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, 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 complaisance of a courtier could have borne

without anger such treatment: but Sir William’s good-breeding carried

him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the

truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the

most forbearing courtesy.

Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant

a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by

mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and

endeavoured 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. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered to say a great deal while

Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings

found a rapid vent. 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 the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that

she herself had been barbarously 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. Bennet’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 Meryton.

Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on

Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she

called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was,

though Mrs. Bennet’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 them

mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no

real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her

disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her

sister, of whose rectitude 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 solemnity of gratitude which a

twelve-month’s abode 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 neighbour, 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

Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight;

for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that

she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would

be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early

day for making him the happiest of men.

Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of

pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to

complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come

to Longbourn 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. Bennet, and they

gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued

absence.

Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after

day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the

report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to

Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs.

Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous

falsehood.

Even Elizabeth 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 to Jane’s happiness, and so

dishonourable 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 this suspense was, of course, more

painful than Elizabeth’s: but whatever she felt she was desirous of

concealing; and between herself and Elizabeth, 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

tranquillity.

Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his

reception at Longbourn 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 Longbourn only in time

to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.

[Illustration:

“_Whenever she spoke in a low voice_”

]

Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable 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 talked of. 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 Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself

and her daughters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was dead. She

complained bitterly of all this to her husband.

“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” 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. Bennet; 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. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How

anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate 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. Bennet.

[Illustration]