Caroline turned sharply. “He will.”
Louisa did not argue, but her look suggested she did not share the certainty.
Caroline’s composure settled again, layer by layer. “Miss Elizabeth may engage him in wit for an afternoon,” she said lightly. “But she cannot alter what he is.”
Louisa resumed adjusting the gown. “Let us hope not.”
Caroline reached for the darker silk at last. “No,” she said, smoothing the fabric with renewed resolve. “Let us ensure not.”
***
The house at Longbourn grew gradually still. Candles were extinguished one by one. Doors closed softly. Yet in several chambers, sleep did not arrive at once.
Jane lay upon her back, hands folded lightly over the coverlet. The ribbon lay neatly arranged upon the chair beside her bed, as though it too required rest before the morrow.
Mr. Bingley’s expression returned to her – not merely his smiles, which were constant, but the particular warmth in his eyes when he listened. She had observed no impatience, no calculation, no divided attention.
He had seemed glad.
She did not dwell upon declarations. She did not speculate beyond what was before her. But she allowed herself one small hope – that sincerity might meet sincerity and not be found wanting.
With that gentle thought, she closed her eyes.
Elizabeth did not lie so quietly. She turned once, then again, watching the pale outline of the window against the dark.
Mr. Darcy’s words replayed themselves with unwelcome clarity.Young. Generous in your judgement.It had annoyed her. It hadalso lingered. And then there was the look – not his reserve, not his hauteur – but the moment at the window, the steady lift of his gaze as though he had known she stood there.
He had looked entirely at ease upon his horse.
She frowned at herself in the darkness.
It was absurd that four-and-twenty hours should disturb conclusions she had held so confidently. She prided herself on discernment. And yet…
She rolled onto her side at last. She told herself she was not looking forward to the ball – and was not entirely persuaded by it.
***
Mr. Collins, having concluded his devotions, did not at once retire.
The evening had not unfolded precisely as he had anticipated. After dinner, he had offered – with what he considered becoming humility – to read aloud a short improving passage. He had selected it beforehand. The occasion had seemed most appropriate for edification.
Miss Elizabeth, however, had declared that she and the younger ladies must attend to their gowns in preparation for the morrow. The urgency with which they withdrew suggested a zeal for industry that he felt bound to commend – though he could not but observe that the improvement of the mind ought not to yield too readily to the ornament of the person.
Miss Bennet had remained. So had Miss Mary.
Miss Bennet’s attention had been divided between her embroidery and the reading; yet she had expressed politeapprobation at the conclusion. Miss Mary, however, had listened with seriousness and afterwards ventured several reflections of her own. She had even inquired, with thoughtful interest, after the particulars of his parsonage – its situation, its prospects, the patronage of Lady Catherine. He had been gratified. It was agreeable to be consulted.
He considered, too, Miss Elizabeth’s liveliness during dinner. Liveliness was engaging, certainly. Yet it was not always conducive to tranquillity in a clerical household. A wife must reflect dignity upon her husband’s office.
His mind returned – not altogether comfortably – to the repeated occasions upon which Mr. Darcy’s gaze had rested upon Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy was a man of consequence. Of very great consequence. It was natural that he should observe freely where he pleased. Yet Mr. Collins felt a faint stirring of something he would not name. It was one thing for a gentleman to admire animation in Hertfordshire. It would be another to permit such familiarity at Rosings.
Lady Catherine would not approve of indiscriminate attentions.
He straightened in his chair.
Miss Elizabeth’s spirit required guidance. It might be improved – though perhaps not without effort. More than once, she had attempted to correct him, and in front of others. Yes, she was a handsome lady, but she was free with her opinions, too. Her father seemed to enjoy them rather than instruct her.
Mr. Collins engaged in thinking seriously.
