Chapter 23
Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters,
reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether she was
authorised 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 of
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.
Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state.
The very mention of any thing 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 any thing at all.”
“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a
state of such insensibility.”
“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for any thing
about the entail. How any one 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 any body else?”
“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr.
Bennet.