Elizabeth blushed as well. “Do you really enjoy it? One hears such contradictory things about whether husbands and…whetherthatis a terrible burden or delightful.”
“I do believe,” Mary said, “that which it is chiefly lies in the gentleman’s behavior. But Mr. Collins is always kind, and he always listens when I strictly tell him to do a thing.” Mary blushed even redder after saying that. She looked at the plastering around the roof. “In any case, you must find a husband wholistensto you. That is the chief point.”
Elizabeth was happy to see Mary’s happiness. Despite Mr. Collins’s deficiencies of person, this clearly was adelightfor Mary, rather than the terrible burden.
“And in conversation, and daily life, you do not…” Elizabeth hesitated not quite sure how to say in an inoffensive way that Mr. Collins was a dull man whose tendency to speak polite things without ever coming to his point seemed to have not changed.
“He is my husband, and I like him,” Mary said fiercely. “He would not be toyourtaste. But I certainly would not want him to be. I want him to be to my taste, and he is. I like himmore and more the more time that we have spent together. And he is…” Now it was Mary’s turn to frown. She paused. Then she said, “He is far more sensible in private conversation with me than with most other people.”
“That is all I wished to hear,” said Elizabeth.
“Enough of that! Put on that dress, I wish to see you in it.”
Chapter Twelve
Mary was happy, and Elizabeth could happily write that much to Mr. Bennet.
One source of her happiness no doubt came from how it wasMarywho decided upon their evening entertainments and who chose the subject of conversation.
Mr. Collins read aloud from whichever book she ordered him to read. He would converse about the difference between Fordyce’s and Hannah More’s view of the ideal place of a wife if that was what Mary wished to speak about. They debated the proper (metaphorical) interpretation of the Beast in Revelations when instead that was the subject that Mary asked for.
And, it seemed, Mr. Collins was not unable to perceive from aspects of his wife’s behavior when she was particularly amenable to being begged to favor them with music.
Beyond all that, Elizabeth discovered clear signs as the evening became late that Mr. and Mrs. Collins would like it, while they of course would by no means suggest this directly to her, if the party might break up early in the evening, so that they could retire to bed. That is to say, Mr. Collins and Mary often shared affectionate touches and little smiles, and they sat as blushingly close as a bride and groom were supposed to.
On the second day they settled into more normal routines. Mary sat in the parlor for much of the day, reading, practicing on the piano, or knitting. She told Elizabeth that she often made calls on the parishioners, and that they would always reserve a part of their income here for the relief of those amongst the parish who were in need of temporary aid, but not so poor as to go onto relief.
“With Mr. Collins’s expectations,” Mary said, “it is not so important that we put aside a large fund every year as it might be otherwise, and our needs here are modest.”
At first it slightly surprised Elizabeth to see that Mary still focused on her music, but Mr. Collins had an untutored delight in Mary’s playing, and he came in from his garden to work upon his sermon and listen when she began to practice.
It seemed to Elizabeth that Mary now tended to pick pieces that focused more on being pleasant than difficult. There was now less of the studied air in how she played, and more actual enjoyment of the music.
Mary’s interest in making extracts from improving texts still gave her things to speak about with her husband, and over the course of their luncheon Elizabeth found that Mary’s advice and suggestions had become as important as those of Lady Catherine in the composition of Mr. Collins’s weekly sermons.
That afternoon, when Elizabeth came down from her room dressed to take a walk and finally get a chance for a private look around Rosing’s fine park, she saw a light carriage standing out by the gate with two women in it, one much younger and the other older.
Mary and Mr. Collins stood outside speaking with them for some five minutes.
It was a fine equipage, with excellent horses and a footman standing on the back.
Elizabeth wondered if she ought to step out to join them, but she worried that Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine and her daughter, for such she suspected them to be, might think that an imposition.
She could survive waiting for the introduction without any pain.
The length of the time they kept Mary out in the breezy wind struck Elizabeth unfavorably, as did the appearance of theyounger of the two. She was small and cross looking, and not at all the sort of gleaming and beribboned creature that Elizabeth imagined Mr. Darcy would intend to marry.
No, no, she would not do for him at all. She cannot be Miss de Bourgh, it must be another.
Certainly, Elizabeth would be surprised to hear that Darcy, with his habits of graciousness to those who were of a lower order, would marry one who did not have the kindness to come in if she meant to make a call.
But when the phaeton drove off and Mary and Mr. Collins returned to the house, Mr. Collins exclaimed upon seeing Elizabeth, “You too have been blessed to see Miss de Bourgh. Did she not look very well? And was she not exceedingly kind in calling at our gate and talking to us for so long? When she came I thought it might be an opportunity to introduce you to such a great personage, but then I considered that she might consider it an impertinence, and that you will in good time have your introduction to both Miss de Bourgh and her Ladyship. So, I refrained from having you called down.”
“I thought likewise, sir.” Elizabeth replied, “And I am glad to have at least seen Lady Catherine and her daughter.”
Mr. Collins looked at her in some surprise, and with what seemed to be almost disapproving shock. “The old lady was but Mrs. Jenkinson who lives with them. She is nothing to Lady Catherine.”
“I have now learned.”
