Mr. Collins complied, his eyes moving about the room in measured survey.
“You possess a very agreeable house,” he said. “Though naturally it cannot rival Rosings Park, the seat of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, still it is remarkably comfortable.”
Mrs. Bennet’s smile wavered. “You are most obliging, sir. Will you take tea, or would you prefer first to see your room?”
“Tea would be most welcome.”
Mrs. Bennet rang for it.
Mr. Collins’s gaze settled upon Mrs. Tyler. “You are engaged as governess here?”
“I am,” Mrs. Tyler replied calmly.
“My late father,” Mr. Collins continued, “was of the opinion that extensive female education is seldom of material consequence.”
The room grew still.
Elizabeth glanced toward the tea tray as Hill entered, then looked back at their cousin.
“Did your father offer reasons for that view?” she asked mildly.
Mr. Collins hesitated. “I cannot say he articulated them in detail. I have no doubt his judgment was sound.”
Elizabeth rose to assist her mother with the tea. She carried a cup to Mr. Collins before returning to her seat.
“You were educated at home, I presume?” she continued.
“My mother instructed me in my earliest studies,” he replied. “My letters and figures.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. "Then your mother’s efforts must have been of consequence indeed.”
A faint flush rose in Mr. Collins’s face.
“I merely repeat what I was taught,” he said, a touch stiffly.
Elizabeth smiled with deliberate sweetness. “One wonders what Lady Catherine might think of such a doctrine.”
Mr. Collins nearly choked upon his tea. “I should never presume to attribute such a notion to her ladyship.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth said. “It would be most unfortunate.”
A brief silence followed.
Mr. Collins set down his cup and stood abruptly. “I believe a short repose would not be ill-advised after my journey.”
“Certainly,” Mrs. Bennet said at once. “I shall show you your chamber.” They departed together.
Mr. Bennet watched the door close behind them. “Well,” he observed, rising, “our cousin promises amusement. I shall retreat to my book-room before I am tempted to improve him.”
***
Elizabeth left Longbourn dressed in her riding habit. Mr. Wilmot stood before the house with his horse and Bramble.
After he assisted her to mount, she reached down to rub Bramble’s neck for a moment. “Let us go on. It would not do to keep the army waiting.”
She laughed lightly, grateful for a reason to be away from the house. A short time in Mr. Collins’s company already felt an endless trial.
They set off across the fields. As they neared Netherfield, Mr. Darcy rode toward them.
