Chapter-9
The marriage between Mr. Collins and Charlotte Lucas soon took place. They left for Hunsford Parsonage in Kent and Elizabeth received regular letters from her friend. She wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts and mentioned only things she could praise. Elizabeth knew that she would not know what the rest was like until her own visit there.
Before Charlotte left for her new home she had made Elizabeth promise to visit her. In March, the opportunity came. Sir William Lucas and his second daughter, Maria, were to visit Hunsford Parsonage and it was arranged that Elizabeth should go with them. She looked forward to the journey with increasing pleasure, especially because they planned to spend the night in London, where they would see Jane and the Gardiners.
The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly. His present pursuit could not make him entirely forget Elizabeth. She was convinced that, whether married or single, he must always be her model of an amiable, and pleasing man.
All was joy and kindness during their short stay with the Gardiners in London. Elizabeth was pleased to find her sister as well and as lovely as ever. But her aunt told her privately that, although Jane always tried to be cheerful, there were times when she appeared very unhappy.
There was also an opportunity for Elizabeth and her aunt to discuss Wickham. Mrs. Gardiner knew the young man’s sad history, but her opinion of him grew worse when she heard about his pursuit of a new love. Despite all Elizabeth could say, she was persuaded that Wickham was mercenary.
Before they parted, Elizabeth had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to go with her uncle and aunt on a tour of England during the summer. They had not quite decided where to go, but probably to the far north. Nothing could have pleased Elizabeth more and she accepted most gratefully.
Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning except their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins carefully told them what they should expect to see, so that the sight of such great rooms, so many servants and so splendid a dinner would not completely overpower them. When the ladies were going to prepare themselves he said to Elizabeth, “Do not concern yourself too much, my dear cousin, about your dress. Lady Catherine does not expect us to show the same elegance as herself or her daughter. She likes to have the differences of rank preserved.”
While they were dressing he came several times to their doors and asked them to hurry as Lady Catherine very much disliked being kept waiting. As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk across the park. Elizabeth saw much that pleased her with Rosings, though she could not share Mr. Collins’ raptures, or be much interested in his information about the number of windows and their original cost.
When they reached the steps to the hall, Maria’s terror was increasing and even Sir William did not look entirely calm. Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady Catherine that showed extraordinary talent or virtue. She thought she could meet without fear mere greatness in money and rank.
They followed the servants through an entrance hall and another room to the room where Lady Catherine, her daughter and the governess, Mrs. Jenkinson, sat. Her ladyship, with great condescension arose to meet them. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with a face that might once have been handsome. Her manner was not agreeab1e and she received them in such a way as to remind her visitors of their inferior rank. Whatever she said was spoken in a commanding voice which showed her self-importance.
The daughter was nothing like her. She was pale, sickly and uninteresting. She spoke very little except to her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson.
The dinner was excellent and there were all the servants and all the wonders which Mr. Collins had promised. He took his seat at the bottom of the table and looked as if life could bring nothing greater. Every dish was praised first by him, and then by Sir William, with such extravagance that Elizabeth wondered how Lady Catherine could listen. But Lady Catherine gave most gracious smiles.
When the ladies returned to the drawing room there was little to do except listen to Lady Catherine’s talk. She delivered her opinion on every subject in a decisive manner that showed she was not used to being contradicted. She gave Charlotte a great deal of advice on every detail of her household management. Nothing was too unimportant for this great lady to dictate to others. When she had told Charlotte exactly how to run her house, she asked Elizabeth about her family in great detail. She asked how many sisters she had, whether they were older or younger, whether any were likely to get married, whether they were pretty, where they had been educated, how many carriages her father kept. Elizabeth felt the impertinence of her questions, but answered politely.
“Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?”
“A little.”
“Oh, then sometime we shall be happy to hear you. Our piano is an excellent one; probably better than your own. You may try it one day. Do your sisters play and sing?”
“One of them does.”
“Why did all of them not learn? All of them should have learnt. The Miss Webbs all play and their father has a smaller income than yours. Do any of your younger sisters go out with you to balls, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, madam, all of them.”
“All! What, all five at once! Very strange! The younger ones go to balls before the eldest is married!”
“Really, madam, I think it would be very hard on the young sisters if they could not have a share of amusements, because their elder sisters do not marry early. The youngest has the same right to the pleasures of youth as the oldest. If she were kept back, it would not improve sisterly affection!”
“Upon my word,” said her ladyship, “you give your opinion very strongly for so young a person. What is your age?”
“With three younger sisters growing up,” said Elizabeth smiling, “your ladyship can hardly expect me to confess.”
Lady Catherine seemed astonished at not receiving a direct answer. Elizabeth was the first person who had ever dared to tease her dignity.
Card tables were made ready. The girls played with Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson. Their conversation was extraordinarily stupid. Scarcely a word was spoken except about the game—or when Mrs. Jenkinson asked Miss de Bourgh if she was too hot or too cold. At the other table, Lady Catherine was generally talking—telling the mistakes of the others or some story about herself. Mr. Collins was kept busy agreeing with everything her ladyship said, thanking her for every point he won and apologizing if he won too many. Sir William did not say much. He was filling his memory with stories and noble names.
When Lady Catherine and her daughter were tired of playing cards the carriage was ordered. The party gathered round the fire for a few minutes to hear Lady Catherine tell them what weather they were to have on the next day. After these instructions they left, with many speeches of thankfulness by Mr. Collins and bows by Sir William.
