Elizabeth shifted slightly, leaning nearer to the ledger. The columns of figures were small, closely written, and for a moment they blurred together into indistinct lines. She narrowed her eye, tilting her head just enough to bring them into focus.
It took longer than it once would have. That, too, she had accepted.
“You have reduced the kitchen accounts,” she said after a moment.Again?“And yet,” she added, with deliberate neutrality, “I cannot help but wonder whether economy in one direction may invite difficulty in another.”
“Yes,” Mr. Collins replied, ignoring her subtle rebuke. “Mrs. Hill has proven most accommodating in adjusting her practices.”
Elizabeth nodded. “The dinners are simpler.” She had noticed, and she had no reason to complain. They still ate well.
“But sufficient,” he added quickly, echoing her thoughts.
“Entirely sufficient,” Elizabeth agreed. She traced the line of figures with the tip of her finger—not touching the page, but following the path just above it to guide her eye. “And the household purchases—there are fewer entries.”
“Quite so. I have discouraged unnecessary additions.”
Elizabeth thought of gowns remade rather than replaced, of ribbons faithfully preserved, of gloves mended rather than discarded. It was not hardship. It was…different.
“You have also increased the investment in the farm,” she said. This, too, was a recent change. Mr. Collins had implemented changes slowly, and this was the latest.
The gentleman straightened slightly. “Yes. It appeared to me that certain improvements, long neglected, might yield a more reliable return if properly addressed.”
Elizabeth’s lips curved faintly. Her father, for all his wit and intelligence, had never taken much interest in such matters. The estate had run as it always had, with little interference and less innovation.
“There has been work done on the lower field,” she said, struggling to follow the notes written in the ledger.
“Yes,” Mr. Collins replied, with satisfaction. “Drainage, primarily. It was long overdue.”
Elizabeth nodded. “It will improve the yield.”
“So I am informed.”
Elizabeth allowed herself a moment’s private reflection. Change, she thought, was not always unwelcome. “I believe you have done well,” she said at last.
Mr. Collins’s expression brightened further. “You think so?”
“I do.”
He folded his hands, clearly gratified. “It is a comfort to hear it. One cannot always rely upon one’s own judgment in such matters.” What went unsaid was that he had not been raised tobe master of an estate. What he had learned had been of his own volition after he inherited.
Elizabeth said nothing to that.
After a moment, he cleared his throat again. “There is also the question of future expenditure.”
Elizabeth shifted her weight slightly. “In what regard?”
“With the arrival of our new neighbor,” he said, “it may become necessary to consider certain appearances.”
Elizabeth felt the faintest tightening in her chest. “Appearances,” she repeated.An eligible gentleman? Of course, he means to unburden himself of one of his charges.The thought was bitter, but could still prove true.
“Yes. It would not do for Longbourn to present itself as diminished in any respect.”
Elizabeth considered this. “You intend to spend more,” she said. Funds saved to be diverted to impression their rich neighbor.
Mr. Collins hesitated. “Not extravagantly. But—appropriately.”
That is good.Elizabeth tilted her head. “And what would that entail?”
“Perhaps a modest addition to the household table,” he said. “Or the refurbishment of certain garments—nothing excessive, but sufficient to convey—respectability.” It was clear how he craved approval, though why he insisted on seeking it from her was baffling. Perhaps it was because Mr. Bennet had treated Elizabeth as the son he never had, and so her advice was better than that of her sisters or mother.
