“If it were only the parsonage, I would accept his offer. But thereisLongbourn to consider.”
Elizabeth did not know how to respond. Was not eventually obtaining Longbourn,retainingLongbourn, the entire point?
“I cannot envision Mr Collins in Papa’s role, can you?” Mary asked.
“Well, no. That is to say, not at this time.”
“I cannot see itever.” Mary gazed up at the ceiling and sighed. “I believe I could help him in his calling as vicar. If I encouraged him to read and improve himself by such an example as mine, I might make something of him. However, acting as landlord and farming his acreage is another matter. I have no interest in agriculture or repairing roofs or raising barns and sheep. What am I to tell the tenants who require all the resources of proper management? That I shall pray for them?”
Elizabeth’s brows raised. “You have a point.”An excellent one, as a matter of fact.“If Jane marries Mr Bingley, I am sure he would advise you and Mr Collins.”
Mary nodded seriously. “I have considered it, but he is only leasing Netherfield, and we have no guarantee he would remain close—or even that he is an excellent manager. I suppose his friend, Mr Darcy, might offer him instruction. Nevertheless, Mr Bingley has not yet proposed to Jane, and I wish to deal with facts only as they stand.”
“That is also probably wise.”
“To my understanding, our father spends very little time working on the estate, as far as attempts to increase yields and such. Still, he was born to his position and could likely do the barest minimum—that is, what he currently does—in his sleep. Our steward is a good one, but he is old. Can you imagine either of them writing out how to undertake their tasks so that I could learn them? Do you think they would recommend useful volumes for my study or allow me to trail them about to take notes?”
“No. I cannot see that,” Elizabeth concurred.
“Nor do I really wish to learn. I do notwantto be the last Bennet of Longbourn, Lizzy, known as the wife of the man who ran the estate into the ground. I cannot see Mr Collins doing any better at it than myself. Hemightbe able to hire a competent steward, but he might just as easily hire someone awful. Obviously, I wish Papa to live to be a hundred, but I cannot count on that either, can I?”
“You are very wise, Mary, to take all these things into account. I only looked to the man himself, judged him harshly, and looked away.”
She shrugged. “Your views are very different than mine. I do not expect a man to be congenial immediately. Most men require guidance and considerable effort, and it is my opinion that those who have less to offer in the way of looks and charm are more amenable to being trained up in the way that they should go.”
Elizabeth was, to be truthful, quite astonished. Mary had depths she kept carefully hidden, or perhaps they were not always best displayed. Her younger sister tried very hard to perform well in all aspects of her life, and if she was a bit odd in her presentation, she should be encouraged in her efforts rather than mocked.
She even found herself wanting Mary’s opinion on her own undesirable match.
“Do you suppose that if Mr Collins was not a young man, but an old one—Papa’s age or more—do you suppose he could be similarly trained, even if one were not at all, um, attracted to him?”
Mary did not tease her to explain such a question, but approached it seriously, as she did everything. “It is possible, I suppose, especially if he were deeply entranced with his new wife. It would be difficult for her should she be repulsed by him. I do not mind Mr Collins’s heaviness. I like a sturdy man, and I like his height. If he repelled me, I would probably have more reservations.”
It was a fair answer, and a better one than Charlotte would have given.
“I wish you the best in your decision,” Elizabeth said.
“I have some time,” Mary replied, her frown easing. “Mr Collins promised to ask me at least two more times. He says it is good for a man to be crossed in love once or twice. I think Papa told him that, and he took it to heart.”
Elizabeth hesitated, wondering whether she ought to say anything about Charlotte. In the end, she only did so because Mary should understand all the options open to her.
“Charlotte would like to marry Mr Collins, if you will not have him. She promises that if you refuse him, and she is successful at attaching him, she will ensure that any of us who need it will be always welcome and happy at Longbourn. Mama would be well-cared for, regardless of you marrying him.”
Mary nodded contemplatively. “I am glad to know that. Charlotte would not have the same difficulties as I would, I think. She would be single-minded in devotion to her home and able to dismiss anything not directly related to it. I imagine her doing at least as well as Papa with the estate.”
That is probably true,Elizabeth thought.
“I think you would do better in ‘training up’ Mr Collins, though,” Elizabeth said, managing to find a smile. “Charlotte would likely ignore too much.”
“Like the puppy who is not properly housetrained, he will continue to piddle on the floor if one does not make the effort to regularly take him on airings. I believe you are right,” Mary agreed. “I only have to decide whether I want to make the effort.”
* * *
“Mary is much wiser than I have given her credit for being,” Elizabeth said to Mr Darcy. He was not at the folly, and her words sounded loud in the lonely room. Nevertheless, she told him the whole of the conversation as though he was sitting in the chair across from her.
Because I am going mad,she acknowledged, if only to herself.
Once again, she had arrived to find the fire roaring, built up for her by Mr Darcy—or at least, by his trusted servant. She lounged on the chaise and nibbled on a petite marchpane cake he had left. Her appetite was still absent, and she only picked at her meals, but she did not want him to think her unappreciative, thus she forced herself to consume something of each offering. The latest book he had left was a very good one, even though she could not pay attention long enough to devour it with her usual swiftness. Inevitably, she would come to a chapter’s end and lose herself staring at the flames instead of continuing to read.
