“We shall do it together. It is only proper that such matters concern us both from now on.”
“What matters?” Elizabeth asked as she entered the library. She looked happy, and the colour in her cheeks showed plainly that she no longer feared the summer sun.
“An announcement which for the moment I prefer to share only with you and Jane,” Mr Bennet replied before turning silent and leaving the explanation to his uncle.
“I have decided to give each of you a dowry of fifteen thousand pounds,” Thomas said as calmly as though discussing the weather.
Elizabeth stared at them in astonishment. The magnitude of the news momentarily defeated even her understanding.
“Dowry?” she repeated faintly, making both gentlemen smile.
“Yes, my dear. Our uncle believes Netherfield alone is insufficient and has decided to provide dowries for each of you as well.”
Still bewildered, Elizabeth looked from one to the other, waiting for further explanation.
“I did not expect you to be so moved by a money matter,” Mr Bennet said jokingly.
She breathed deeply before answering, and when she spoke, her tone revealed that her thoughts had already moved far beyond the money itself.
“I think it is the meaning of such a dowry that affects me most. I am free now to marry any gentleman—”
“You have always been free to marry whomsoever you wished, my dear,” Mr Bennet said gently. However, both menunderstood that Elizabeth would never have considered only herself where her family was concerned.
“Yes, of course, Papa,” she answered more quietly, though not entirely convinced herself. Then, turning to her uncle, she added simply, “Thank you.”
There was such gratitude in her expression that Thomas felt, once more, that his fortune had meaning only in moments like these.
At that instant, a maid entered to announce a visitor. For several moments, none of them understood the name properly.
“Who?” Mr Bennet asked.
“Mr Collins,” the maid repeated more loudly as the gentleman entered the library with the air of a proprietor already inspecting his future possession.
“Uncle!” he cried, approaching Thomas in the flattering tone he imagined appropriate for a rich relation.
“Mr Bennet!” Thomas replied.
Mr Collins blinked in confusion.
“I am Mr Bennet,” Thomas repeated in a colder voice.
They all watched Mr Collins’ face tighten momentarily before his habitual obsequiousness returned.
“I beg your pardon,” he murmured with a smile intended to display profound humility.
“Yes, Mr Collins. What may we do for you?”
Thomas deliberately emphasised ‘we’, making it perfectly clear that nobody intended to leave the room.
Still, Mr Collins seated himself as near to Thomas as possible and lowered his voice confidentially.
“Would you grant me the great honour of a private conversation?”
“We have nothing private to discuss, Mr Collins,” Thomas answered steadily. “This is my family, and anything you wish to say may be spoken before them.”
“But Mr Bennet, I also am family.”
Only then did a visible coldness appear upon Thomas Bennet’s face. “Family is where one is welcomed.”
