Mr. Collins returned to the parsonage at Hunsford in the quiet satisfaction of duties well discharged and prospects brightly formed. The late afternoon was mild, the glebe tranquil, and his mind agreeably occupied with the events at Rosings. He seated himself at his desk with the intention of writing to his Cousin Mr. Bennet—a correspondence he now regarded as both a pleasure and a responsibility.
The letter, composed with his usual neatness and earnest care, ran thus:
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent
17 September, 1811
My dear Cousin,
I trust this finds you, Mrs. Bennet, and my fair cousins in continued health and prosperity. I have only this day returned from a most gratifying visit to Rosings, where Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s condescension and wisdom have, as ever, exceeded all expectation. Her ladyship’s approbation of my humble efforts in the parish has been most generously expressed, and I am happy to inform you that she has undertaken to bear the chief expense of the poor-relief scheme I lately proposed—a mark of favor that overwhelms my gratitude.
But I write upon a matter of greater immediacy. It has pleased her ladyship to charge me with the agreeable office of introducing two gentlemen of the first consequence to your neighborhood. Mr. Charles Bingley—a most amiable and liberal young man of good fortune—isdesirous of viewing Netherfield Park with a view to letting it. His friend Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, a gentleman ofeven greater distinction, will accompany him. Mr. Bingley, finding no estate in Kent to his taste, has been searching for alternatives, and I directed him toward Hertfordshire, having assured him that Netherfield offers every advantage: a handsome house, excellent grounds, and society of the most respectable kind.
We propose, therefore, to wait upon you at Longbourn in the course of the next few days—perhaps leaving Kent as early as the morning after tomorrow—if this should prove convenient. Mr. Darcy will convey us in his carriage, and we shall be but three in number, promising, I trust, no undue inconvenience to your hospitable roof. Please advice Mr. Morris of our arrival and potential tenant and Mr. Phillips to be ready to prepare the lawful documents
I cannot but reflect, with the warmest anticipations, upon the happiness such gentlemen may find in the society of Meryton and its environs. Mr. Bingley’s open and cheerful disposition seems formed for domestic felicity, while Mr. Darcy’s discernment and elevated understanding must command the respect of all who value true worth. I have observed in both a seriousness of mind that inclines me to hope they may discover, among the accomplished and amiable young ladies of our acquaintance, connexions worthy of their consideration.
Should Netherfield be taken, I predict many pleasant evenings of mutual improvement and rational entertainment.
In the meantime, I enclose—for your cook’s possible use—a receipt which I lately learned from Mr. Bingleyhimself, and which is said to be particularly esteemed by Mr. Darcy. It is for cold roast beef with horseradish sauce, prepared in the manner once perfected at Pemberley:
Take a fine sirloin or rib of beef, roast it rare and allow it to rest fully until quite cold. Slice it thinly against the grain.
For the sauce: Grate fresh horseradish root very finely—neither too coarse nor too timid. To four ounces of the grated root add one tablespoon of good vinegar, a pinch of salt, and sufficient fresh cream to form a smooth sauce of moderate thickness. The vinegar and cream must be combined at the last moment, lest the sauce separate. Serve immediately beside the beef.
Mr. Bingley assures me that the balance is everything, and that Mr. Darcy is a most exacting judge of its perfection. Ask, therefore, Mrs. Hill to try cooking it until perfection is achieved. There is not one of my customary jokes; this is of utmost importance.
As I know, my dear Cousin, how naturally the prospects of her daughters engage a mother’s thoughts, I think it only candid to add that both gentlemen are, at present, entirely free from matrimonial engagement; that they are of agreeable appearance, sound education, and impeccable manners; and that their situations in life render them not merely eligible, but—should mutual inclination arise—most advantageously so. I state this not in the spirit of presumption, but from a sincere wish that you should be fully apprised of circumstances which, in a well-ordered family, are never regarded with indifference.
I remain, dear Cousin, with the sincerest respect and gratitude,
Your obliged and affectionate relative,
William Collins
Having sealed and directed the letter, Mr Collins sent his groom to deliver it to the nearest post office immediately. Then, completely forgetting to eat his supper, he retired with the tranquil conscience of one who had fulfilled every duty—and perhaps advanced, in some small measure, the happiness of those most dear to him.
Seven
The carriage bowled steadily along the turnpike toward London, the late September sun casting long shadows across the hedgerows. For the last miles, the gentlemen’s conversation had dwelt upon the practicalities of travel: the excellence of the roads, the mildness of the weather—neither too warm nor too chill—and the likelihood of reaching a good inn before nightfall.
Mr. Bingley, ever the optimist, declared himself perfectly content with the motion of the carriage and the prospect of a good dinner at journey’s end.
“I confess,” he said with a laugh, stretching his legs as far as the confines allowed, “that I am already famished. Lady Catherine’s table is admirable, but one cannot travel far on tea and deference alone. What say you, Darcy—shall we stop at the next respectable posting-house? I have a thirst that even her ladyship’s excellent claret could not quite quench.”
Mr. Darcy, gazing out at the passing fields with his customary reserve, inclined his head.
“The Bell at Bexleyheath has tolerable accommodations, if memory serves. We might refresh there without undue delay.”
Mr. Collins, listening with attentive politeness, ventured a gentle contribution—his thoughts already drifting toward the comforts of Longbourn and the pleasure of introducing these gentlemen to his cousins.
“The roads are in fine order this season, gentlemen. We shall make good time, and the inns along this route are generallyclean and well-supplied. I have often found a simple dish of cold meat and ale most restorative after a day’s travel.”
Mr. Bingley grinned. “A simple dish, you say? You are in luck, then, Mr. Collins—I could eat a horse now.”
A faint, indulgent curve touched Mr. Darcy’s lips, though he offered no comment—while Mr. Collins permitted himself a quiet smile, reflecting that such easy humor might prove most agreeable in Hertfordshire society. The talk drifted then to horses, the comparative merits of various post-houses, and the minor discomforts of long journeys—until, as the sun began to dip lower, the conversation circled, almost inevitably, back to the instructions they had received at Rosings.
Mr. Bingley, stretching again with a contented sigh, remarked lightly, “I daresay we shall none of us escape her ladyship’s matrimonial schemes for long. She was most emphatic upon the subject.”
