Chapter 23

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Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what
she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized 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 to 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.

“Whenever she spoke in a low voice”
]

Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of
anything 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 anything at all.”

“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such
insensibility.”

“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How
anyone 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 anybody else?”

“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet.

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