Chapter 6
Mr. Collins’s triumph, in consequence of this
invitation, was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of
his patroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see
her civility towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he had
wished for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so
soon was such an instance of Lady Catherine’s condescension as he
knew not how to admire enough.
“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been
at all surprised by her Ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea
and spend the evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my
knowledge of her affability, that it would happen. But who could
have foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined
that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation,
moreover, including the whole party,) so immediately after your
arrival?”—“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied
Sir William, “from that knowledge of what the manners of the great
really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire.
About the court, such instances of elegant breeding are not
uncommon.”
Scarcely any thing was talked of the whole day or
next morning but their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully
instructing them in what they were to expect, that the sight of
such rooms, so many servants, and so splendid a dinner, might not
wholly overpower them.
When the ladies were separating for the toilette,
he said to Elizabeth,—
“Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about
your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of
dress in us which becomes herself and daughter. I would advise you
merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest,
there is no occasion for any thing more. Lady Catherine will not
think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have
the distinction of rank preserved.”
While they were dressing, he came two or three
times to their different doors, to recommend their being quick, as
Lady Catherine very much objected to be kept waiting for her
dinner. Such formidable accounts of her Ladyship, and her manner of
living, quite frightened Maria Lucas, who had been little used to
company; and she looked forward to her introduction at Rosings with
as much apprehension as her father had done to his presentation at
St. James’s.
As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk
of about half a mile across the park. Every park has its beauty and
its prospects; and Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though
she could not be in such raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene
to inspire, and was but slightly affected by his enumeration of the
windows in front of the house, and his relation of what the glazing
altogether had originally cost Sir Lewis de Bough.
When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s
alarm was every moment increasing, and even Sir William did not
look perfectly calm. Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had
heard nothing of Lady Catherine that spoke her awful from any
extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere
stateliness of money and rank she thought she could witness without
trepidation.
From the entrance hall, of which Mr. Collins
pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished
ornaments, they followed the servants through an ante-chamber to
the room where Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson
were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great condescension, arose to
receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it with her husband
that the office of introduction should be hers, it was performed in
a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which he
would have thought necessary.
In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William
was so completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had
but just courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat
without saying a word; and his daughter, frightened almost out of
her senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing which way to
look. Elizabeth found herself quite equal to the scene, and could
observe the three ladies before her composedly. Lady Catherine was
a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might
once have been handsome. Her air was not conciliating, nor was her
manner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their
inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by silence: but
whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as marked
her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to
Elizabeth’s mind; and from the observation of the day altogether,
she believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he had
represented.
When, after examining the mother, in whose
countenance and deportment she soon found some resemblance of Mr.
Darcy, she turned her eyes on the daughter, she could almost have
joined in Maria’s astonishment at her being so thin and so small.
There was neither in figure nor face any likeness between the
ladies. Miss De Bourgh was pale and sickly: her features, though
not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very little, except in
a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance there was
nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening to
what she said, and placing a screenao in
the proper direction before her eyes.
After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to
one of the windows to admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them
to point out its beauties, and Lady Catherine kindly informing them
that it was much better worth looking at in the summer.
The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were
all the servants, and all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins
had promised; and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at
the bottom of the table, by her Ladyship’s desire, and looked as if
he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. He carved, and
ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dish was
commended first by him, and then by Sir William, who was now enough
recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a manner which
Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady Catherine
seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most
gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a
novelty to them. The party did not supply much conversation.
Elizabeth was ready to speak whenever there was an opening, but she
was seated between Charlotte and Miss De Bourgh—the former of whom
was engaged in listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not
a word to her all dinner-time. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed
in watching how little Miss De Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some
other dish, and fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking
out of the question, and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and
admire.
When the ladies returned to the drawing room, there
was little to be done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she
did without any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her
opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner as proved that she
was not used to have her judgment controverted. She enquired into
Charlotte’s domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her
a great deal of advice as to the management of them all; told her
how every thing ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers,
and instructed her as to the care of her cows and her poultry.
Elizabeth found that nothing was beneath this great lady’s
attention, which could furnish her with an occasion of dictating to
others. In the intervals of her discourse with Mrs. Collins, she
addressed a variety of questions to Maria and Elizabeth, but
especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew the least,
and who, she observed to Mrs. Collins, was a very genteel, pretty
kind of girl. She asked her at different times how many sisters she
had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any
of them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome,
where they had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and
what had been her mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the
impertinence of her questions, but answered them very composedly.
Lady Catherine then observed, —
“Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I
think? For your sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but
otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female
line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family.
Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?”
“A little.”
“Oh then—some time or other we shall be happy to
hear you. Our instrument is a capital one, probably superior to—you
shall try it some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”
“One of them does.”
“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have
learned. The Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good
an income as yours. Do you draw?”
“No, not at all.”
“What, none of you?”
“Not one.”
“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no
opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring
for the benefit of masters.”
“My mother would have no objection, but my father
hates London.”
“Has your governess left you?”
“We never had any governess.”
“No governess! How was that possible? Five
daughters brought up at home without a governess! I never heard of
such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your
education.”
Elizabeth could hardly help smiling as she assured
her that had not been the case.
“Then who taught you? who attended to you? Without
a governess, you must have been neglected.”
“Compared with some families, I believe we were;
but such of us as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were
always encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were
necessary. Those who chose to be idle certainly might.”
“Aye, no doubt: but that is what a governess will
prevent; and if I had known your mother, I should have advised her
most strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be
done in education without steady and regular instruction, and
nobody but a governess can give it. It is wonderful how many
families I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am
always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces of
Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and
it was but the other day that I recommended another young person,
who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are
quite delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady
Metcalfe’s calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a
treasure. ‘Lady Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a
treasure.’ Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, ma’am, all.”
“All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you
only the second. The younger ones out before the elder are married!
Your younger sisters must be very young?”
“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps
she is full young to be much in company. But really, ma’am,
I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters that they should
not have their share of society and amusement, because the elder
may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last born
has as good a right to the pleasures of youth as the first. And to
be kept back on such a motive! I think it would not be very
likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”
“Upon my word,” said her Ladyship, “you give your
opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your
age?”
“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied
Elizabeth, smiling, “your Ladyship can hardly expect me to own
it.”
Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not
receiving a direct answer; and Elizabeth suspected herself to be
the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much
dignified impertinence.
“You cannot be more than twenty, I am
sure,—therefore you need not conceal your age.”
“I am not one-and-twenty.”
When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was
over, the card tables were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and
Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat down to quadrille; and as Miss De Bourgh
chose to play at cassino,ap the
two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her
party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable
was uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs.
Jenkinson expressed her fears of Miss De Bourgh’s being too hot or
too cold, or having too much or too little light. A great deal more
passed at the other table. Lady Catherine was generally
speaking—stating the mistakes of the three others, or relating some
anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins was employed in agreeing to every
thing her Ladyship said, thanking her for every fish he won, and
apologising if he thought he won too many. Sir William did not say
much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes and noble
names.
When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as
long as they chose, the tables were broken up, the carriage was
offered to Mrs. Collins, gratefully accepted, and immediately
ordered. The party then gathered round the fire to hear Lady
Catherine determine what weather they were to have on the morrow.
From these instructions they were summoned by the arrival of the
coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. Collins’s
side, and as many bows on Sir William’s, they departed. As soon as
they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her
cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings,
which, for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it
really was. But her commendation, though costing her some trouble,
could by no means satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged
to take her Ladyship’s praise into his own hands.