Chapter 28 very object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting
to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state
for enjoyment; for she had seen her sister looking so
well as to banish all fear for her health, and the prospect
of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.
When they left the high-road for the lane to Hunsford,
every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning
expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park
was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the
recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.
At length the Parsonage was discernable. The garden
sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales
and the laurel hedge, everything declared that they were arriving.
Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and
the carriage stopped at a small gate, which led by a short
gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the
whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing
at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her
friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more
and more satisfied with coming, when she found herself so
affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin’s
manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal civility
was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes
at the gate to hear and satisfy his enquiries after all her family.
They were then, with no other delay than his pointing
out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and
as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second
time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode,
and punctually repeated all his wife’s offers of refreshment.
Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she
could not help fancying that in displaying the good proportion
of the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed
himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel
what she had lost in refusing him. But though every thing
seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him
by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at
her friend that she could have so cheerful an air, with such
a companion. When Mr. Collins said any thing of which
his wife might reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was
not unseldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte.
Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general
Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to
admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard
to the fender, to give an account of their journey, and
of all that had happened in London, Mr. Collins invited
them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well
laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself.
To work in his garden was one of his most respectable pleasures;
and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance
with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulnes of the excercise,
and owned she encouraged it as much as possible.
Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk,
and scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises
he asked for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness
which left beauty entirely behind. He could number
the fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees
there were in the most distant clump. But of all the views
which his garden, or which the country, or the kingdom
could boast, none were to be compared with the prospect
of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered
the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a
handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.
From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round
his two meadows, but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter
the remains of a white frost, turned back; and while
Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and
friend over the house, extremely well pleased, probably, to
have the opportunity of shewing it without her husband’s
help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and
everything was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and
consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit.
When Mr. Collins could be forgotten, there was really a
great air of comfort throughout, and by Charlotte’s evident
enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten.
She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still
in the country. It was spoken of again while they were at
dinner, when Mr. Collins joining in, observed,
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing
Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church,
and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all
affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will
be honoured with some portion of her notice when service
is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will
include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with
which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour
to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings
twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her
ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say,
one of her ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”
“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed,”
added Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.”
“Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is
the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much
deference.”
The evening was spent chiefly in talking over
Hertfordshire news, and telling again what had been already
written; and when it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude
of her chamber, had to meditate upon Charlotte’s degree
of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, and
composure in bearing with her husband, and to acknowledge
that it was all done very well. She had also to anticipate
how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments,
the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and
the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. A lively imagination
soon settled it all. About the middle of the next day,
as she was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden
noise below seemed to speak the whole house in confusion;
and after listening a moment, she heard somebody running
up stairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She
opened the door, and met Maria in the landing place, who,
breathless with agitation, cried out,
“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the
dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not
tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment.”
Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her
nothing more, and down they ran into the dining-room,
which fronted the lane, in quest of this wonder; it was two
ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden gate.
“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least
that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing
but Lady Catherine and her daughter!”
“La! my dear,” said Maria quite shocked at the mistake,
“it is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson,
who lives with them. The other is Miss De Bourgh. Only
look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have
thought she could be so thin and small!”
“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors
in all this wind. Why does she not come in?”
“Oh! Charlotte says, she hardly ever does. It is the greatest
of favours when Miss De Bourgh comes in.”
“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other
ideas. “She looks sickly and cross.— Yes, she will do for him
very well. She will make him a very proper wife.”
Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the
gate in conversation with the ladies; and Sir William, to
Elizabeth’s high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in
earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly
bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that way.
At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies
drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr.
Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate
them on their good fortune, which Charlotte
explained by letting them know that the whole party was
asked to dine at Rosings the next day.
Chapter 29 r. 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 Bourgh.
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 antechamber,
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 her’s, 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 insignifi-
cant; 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 screen in the proper direction before her
eyes.
A fter 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 were 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 her’s, 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 your’s.— 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 had 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, 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 broke 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..
Chapter 30 ir William staid only a week at Hunsford; but
his visit was long enough to convince him of his
daughter’s being most comfortably settled, and of
her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour
as were not often met with. While Sir William was
with them, Mr. Collins devoted his mornings to driving
him out in his gig and shewing him the country; but when
he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments,
and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did
not see more of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of
the time between breakfast and dinner was now passed by
him either at work in the garden, or in reading and writing,
and looking out of window in his own book room,
which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat
was backwards. Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that
Charlotte should not prefer the dining parlour for common
use; it was a better sized room, and had a pleasanter aspect;
but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for
what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been
much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally
lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
From the drawing room they could distinguish nothing
in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the
knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially
Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which
he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened
almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at
the Parsonage, and had a few minutes’ conversation with
Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed on to get out.
Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk
to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it
necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected that
there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she
could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now
and then, they were honoured with a call from her ladyship,
and nothing escaped her observation that was passing
in the room during these visits. She examined into their
employments, looked at their work, and advised them to
do it differently; found fault with the arrangement of the
furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if
she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the
sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were
too large for her family.
Elizabeth soon perceived that though this great lady
was not in the commission of the peace for the county, she
was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest
concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins;
and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome,
discontented or too poor, she sallied forth into the
village to settle their differences, silence their complaints,
and scold them into harmony and plenty.
The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated
about twice a week; and, allowing for the loss of Sir
William, and there being only one card table in the evening,
every such entertainment was the counterpart of the first.
Their other engagements were few; as the style of living of
the neighbourhood in general was beyond the Collinses’
reach. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon
the whole she spent her time comfortably enough; there
were half hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte,
and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she
had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk,
and where she frequently went while the others were calling
on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged
that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path,
which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt
beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.
In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon
passed away. Easter was approaching, and the week preceding
it was to bring an addition to the family at Rosings,
which in so small a circle must be important. Elizabeth had
heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy was expected
there in the course of a few weeks, and though there were
not many of her acquaintance whom she did not prefer, his
coming would furnish one comparatively new to look at in
their Rosings parties, and she might be amused in seeing
how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him were, by his behaviour
to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined
by Lady Catherine; who talked of his coming with the
greatest satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest
admiration, and seemed almost angry to find that he had
already been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself.
His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage, for Mr.
Collins was walking the whole morning within view of
the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have
the earliest assurance of it; and after making his bow as
the carriage turned into the park, hurried home with the
great intelligence. On the following morning he hastened
to Rosings to pay his respects. There were two nephews of
Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought
with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle,
Lord —; and to the great surprise of all the party,
when Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen accompanied
him. Charlotte had seen them, from her husband’s room,
crossing the road, and immediately running into the other,
told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,
“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr.
Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”
Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the
compliment, before their approach was announced by the
door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered
the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was
about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most
truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been
used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with
his usual reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be
his feelings towards her friend, met her with every appearance
of composure. Elizabeth merely curtseyed to him,
without saying a word.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly
with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked
very pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed a
slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins,
sat for some time without speaking to any body. At length,
however, his civility was so far awakened as to enquire of
Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him
in the usual way, and after a moment’s pause, added,
“My eldest sister has been in town these three months.
Have you never happened to see her there?”
She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she
wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness
of what had passed between the Bingleys and Jane; and she
thought he looked a little confused as he answered that he
had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The
subject was pursued no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards
went away.
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