The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases, 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 humour," said she, "and I am more obliged
to you than I can express." Charlotte assured her friend of
her satisfaction in 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 was Miss Lucas's scheme; and appearances
were so favourable 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 fire and independence of his character, for it led him
to escape out of Longbourn House the next morning with admirable
slyness, and hasten to Lucas 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 diffident
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 as short a time as Mr. Collins's long speeches would allow,
every thing was settled between them to the satisfaction of
both; and as they entered the house, he earnestly entreated
her to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men;
and though such a solicitation must be waved for the present,
the lady felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness.
The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must guard
his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for
its continuance; and Miss Lucas, who 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 a most joyful alacrity. Mr.
Collins's present circumstances made it a most eligible match
for their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune;
and his prospects of 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. Bennet
was likely to live; and Sir William gave it as his decided
opinion that whenever Mr. Collins should be in possession of
the Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient that both
he and his wife should make their appearance 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 or two sooner than they might otherwise have done; and
the boys were relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte's
dying an 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 honourable provision for well-educated young women
of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness,
must be their pleasantest preservative from want. This preservative
she had now obtained; and at the age of twenty-seven, without
having ever been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it.
The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise
it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she
valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder,
and probably would blame her; and though her resolution was
not to 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 Longbourn 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. Bennet, with
great politeness and cordiality, said how happy they should
be to see him at Longbourn 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. Bennet, who could by no
means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said,
"But is there 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 my
not taking so material a step without her ladyship's concurrence."
"You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk any thing 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 offence."
"Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by
such affectionate attention; and depend upon 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 Hertfordshire.
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 excepting my cousin Elizabeth."
With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them
equally surprised to find that he meditated a quick return.
Mrs. Bennet wished 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 her's, 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 in a private conference with Elizabeth related
the event of the day before. The possibility of Mr. Collins's
fancying himself in love with her friend had once occurred
to Elizabeth within the last day or two; but that 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 to Mr. Collins! my dear Charlotte,—impossible!"
The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling
her story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving
so direct a reproach; though, as it was 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 for it, was able to assure her with tolerable firmness
that the prospect of their relationship was highly grateful
to her, and that she wished her all imaginable happiness.
"I see what you are feeling," replied Charlotte,—"you
must be surprised, very much surprised,—so lately as
Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had
time to think it all over, I hope you will be satisfied with
what I have done. I am not romantic you know. I never was,
I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins's
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 then
left 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 strangeness of Mr. Collins's 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 worldly advantage.
Charlotte the wife of Mr. Collins, was a most humiliating picture!—And
to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her
esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible
for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen. |