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 this garden was one of his most
respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of
countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of
the exercise, 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 tress there were in the most
distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which
the country or 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 showing 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 an air of great 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 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 already been 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 upstairs 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 that 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
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 anything 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 her daughter. I would
advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior
to the rest - there is no occasion for anything 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 or 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 the 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 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 screen 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 judgement controverted. She
inquired into Charlotte's domestic concerns familiarly and
minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as to the management
of them all; told her how everything 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 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 Metcalf'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 ones 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 at 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 everything
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.
Chapter 30
Sir William stayed 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 morning to driving him
out in his gig, and showing 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 the
window in his own book-room, which fronted the road. The
room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth had at
first rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the
dining-parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and
had a more pleasant 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 upon 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
commission of the peace of 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 in the neighbourhood in general was beyond
Mr. Collins's 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 acquaintances 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 gentleman
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 toward 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 anybody. At length, however,
his civility was so far awakened as to inquire 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.
Chapter 31
Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired at the
Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably
to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some
days, however, before they received any invitation thither - for
while there were visitors in the house, they could not be
necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the
gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an
attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to
come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very
little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had
called at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr.
Darcy they had seen only at church.
The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they
joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing-room. Her ladyship
received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by
no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and
she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to
them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person
in the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything
was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins's
pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now
seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and
Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books
and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained
in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and
flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well
as of Mr. Darcy. _His_ eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned
towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship,
after a while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged,
for she did not scruple to call out:
"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are
talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear
what it is."
"We are speaking of music, madam," said he, when no longer
able to avoid a reply.
"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my
delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are
speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose,
who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better
natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great
proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to
apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully.
How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"
Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's
proficiency.
"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady
Catherine; "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to
excel if she does not practice a good deal."
"I assure you, madam," he replied, "that she does not need such
advice. She practises very constantly."
"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I
next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any
account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music
is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss
Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless
she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument,
she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings
every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room.
She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house."
Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's ill-breeding, and
made no answer.
When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth
of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to
the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine
listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other
nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and making with
his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself
so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.
Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient
pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said:
"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state
to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister _does_ play
so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to
be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at
every attempt to intimidate me."
"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you
could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming
you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long
enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally
professing opinions which in fact are not your own."
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to
Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty
notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am
particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose
my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to
pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy,
it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my
disadvantage in Hertfordshire - and, give me leave to say, very
impolitic too - for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such
things may come out as will shock your relations to hear."
"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly.
"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried
Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves
among strangers."
"You shall hear then - but prepare yourself for something very
dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire,
you must know, was at a ball - and at this ball, what do you
think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen
were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one
young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy,
you cannot deny the fact."
"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the
assembly beyond my own party."
"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well,
Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your
orders."
"Perhaps," said Darcy, "I should have judged better, had I
sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend
myself to strangers."
"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth,
still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a
man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is
ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"
"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, "without
applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the
trouble."
"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said
Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.
I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested
in their concerns, as I often see done."
"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument
in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They
have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the
same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my
own fault - because I will not take the trouble of practising.
It is not that I do not believe _my_ fingers as capable as any
other woman's of superior execution."
Darcy smiled and said, "You are perfectly right. You have
employed your time much better. No one admitted to the
privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither
of us perform to strangers."
Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to
know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began
playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening
for a few minutes, said to Darcy:
"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more,
and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a
very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to
Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her
health allowed her to learn."
Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to
his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other
could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of
his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for
Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry
_her_, had she been his relation.
Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance,
mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste.
Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility,
and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument
till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.
Chapter 32
Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to
Jane while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into
the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the
certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she
thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that
apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she
might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened,
and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only,
entered the room.
He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised
for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all
the ladies were to be within.
They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were
made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was
absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in
this emergence recollecting _when_ she had seen him last in
Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say
on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed:
"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November,
Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr.
Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right,
he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope,
when you left London?"
"Perfectly so, I thank you."
She found that she was to receive no other answer, and, after a
short pause added:
"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of
ever returning to Netherfield again?"
"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may
spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many
friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are
continually increasing."
"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for
the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for
then we might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps,
Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience
of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to
keep it or quit it on the same principle."
"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up
as soon as any eligible purchase offers."
Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of
his friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined
to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.
He took the hint, and soon began with, "This seems a very
comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to
it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."
"I believe she did - and I am sure she could not have bestowed
her kindness on a more grateful object."
"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife."
"Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with
one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted
him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an
excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider
her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She
seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is
certainly a very good match for her."
"It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a
distance of her own family and friends."
"An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."
"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a
day's journey. Yes, I call it a _very_ easy distance."
"I should never have considered the distance as one of the
_advantages_ of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never
have said Mrs. Collins was settled _near_ her family."
"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire.