“That is a lovely bonnet,” he said, admiring Lydia’s latest creation spread across the table. “And Miss Kitty, what a charming sketch.”
“Miss Mary, I find Wordsworth to be excellent reading. Might we discuss your book later?”
“Miss Bennet, have you any suggestions for sights to see whilst I am in Hertfordshire?”
At this, Jane smiled and gestured toward Elizabeth. “My sister would be the far better guide, sir, especially if you are a great walker. Elizabeth goes wherever her feet carry her and has explored the area extensively.”
“Miss Elizabeth?” He turned to her, a question in his eyes.
“Oakham Mount is a favorite excursion,” she replied. “I find the paths east and west of Longbourn to be superior as well. They are well trodden and not at all difficult.”
“I thank you. I do enjoy walking, though I cannot do so daily whilst I am attending to my parish.” He smiled and took a seat beside Thomas, folding his hands in his lap and smiling broadly.
“Will you tell us about your parish?” Jane asked.
“Indeed, if that is your wish. I am most fortunate to have secured a living so early in my career. Lady Catherine is an attentive patroness.” He grimaced slightly and looked rather guilty. “May I speak plainly?” he asked, turning to Thomas.
“Of course.” Thomas replied, nodding encouragingly. “We shall not judge you for your words.”
Mr. Collins sighed. “Lady Catherine is indeed an attentive patroness—tooattentive. She oversees every aspect of my work with intense scrutiny. I cannot even order meat for my dinner without her remarking at the expense of the cut. I had resigned myself to a life governed thus, when I learned from a friend that Longbourn’s living would fall vacant next year.”
“I see your purpose.” Thomas grinned. “You hope to install a curate at Hunsford and assume the living here yourself. Clever man—escaping the oversight of your patroness whilst retaining the income. I applaud your good sense. My father is not so interfering.”
Mr. Collins visibly relaxed and beamed. “I am very pleased that you understand,” he said warmly. “I shall leave the remainder of that discussion for later, as your father suggested.”
“A perfectly amiable plan. Now, tell us more of yourself.” Thomas leaned forward with interest.
Mr. Collins nodded. “What would you wish to know?”
“Everything, sir,” Jane responded. “We knew our father had relations, but we know nothing of them. Anything you share is new to us.”
“Well,” he said slowly, considering his words, “my father dwelt in Essex on a small farm that yielded a modest five hundred pounds per annum. My mother was also raised in the village near there. They had known one another all their lives and married when they came of age. My mother’s family has long since passed to their reward, and my father’s parents died before he married.”
Mr. Collins detailed his upbringing with pride, attributing his education to his father’s frugality and his desire that his son live more comfortably than he had. “Upon his death, my father directed me to sell the farm and use the proceeds to take orders,” he said. “I am most grateful for his sacrifices. My father was not a well-educated man, though he could read and write.”
“The love of a parent for a child is precious,” Mary said softly. She had approached as her cousin spoke and taken a seat beside Elizabeth.
“That it is, Miss Mary. And I had a surplus of it.”
Mary flushed at his acknowledgement, and Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane. Could their younger sister find the parson appealing?
It would be a sensible match, particularly if Papa grants him the Longbourn living.One valuable living could support a family in comfort, but two would provide more than ample means—especially if they had a large family. Longbourn’s living provided around four hundred pounds a year. Based on Mr. Collins’s description of Rosings Park, the Hunsford living must yield at least six hundred.
A thousand pounds a year and the interest from Mary’s dowry would be sufficient,Elizabeth mused.And I do not doubt that Papa would help them further.Yes, it would be ideal—but nothing could be said yet. They had only just made one another’s acquaintance, and it would be some time before a decision of that magnitude could be made.
Dinner that evening demonstrated Mrs. Bennet’s skill as hostess. With little notice, she ordered three courses of the finest fare their cook could manage. Mr. Collins, thoroughly pleased, consumed two servings of nearly everything—thus accounting for his portly frame.
The following morning, after breakfast, Lydia proposed a walk into Meryton. The weather was clear and fine, with no sign of impending rain on the horizon. Her sisters were quick to agree, though Thomas declined, citing the need to assist his father with repairs to a fence.
Mr. Collins asked hesitantly if he might accompany the ladies. “I have no intention of intruding on your privacy,” he said haltingly. “But I should like to see more of the area, and a walk seems ideal.”
“Of course you may come!” Mary cried. “I shall take particular delight in showing you our little community.” She gave him a broad smile, setting aside her usual shyness.
They departed soon after the meal, donning warm cloaks and pelisses, gloves and walking boots for the journey. The well-maintained lane from Longbourn to Meryton was free of ruts or holes that might cause one to inadvertently trip. Elizabeth and Jane walked behind Kitty and Lydia, keeping a close watch on their youngest sisters, who occasionally wandered off. Mary and Mr. Collins brought up the rear, drifting further behind the others the nearer they approached Meryton.
“Stay close,” Jane warned Kitty and Lydia. “I should hate to inform Father that you could not keep to the rules. He would be seriously displeased.” A smile belied her seemingly stern words.
“We shall only go to the milliner’s,” Lydia protested. “Kitty and I will look in the window whilst you retrieve what Mama needs.” Their mother had sent a list of errands for the girls to manage during their outing.
