When they reached Longbourn, Mrs. Bennet was through the door before the step had been properly lowered.
"Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bennet, you must come and hear what has happened, your daughter has embarrassed us all before the entire neighbourhood, I have never been so mortified in my life, never, not once. She ran out of the assembly in the middle of the evening, and then she stood up with that man you banned, bold as you please, in front of everyone, and Mr. Collins announced the arrangement before all of Meryton and she behaved as though she had been insulted, and then there was a scene, and Lady Lucas was watching, and Mrs. Long, and I do not know what people will say but it will be nothing good, I can promise you that."
"My betrothed was behaving in a manner most unbecoming," Mr. Collins added, from immediately behind her, with the gravity of a man delivering a report to a superior officer.
Mr. Bennet appeared in the doorway of his book room. He looked at Collins with the expression of a man who has lent a tool and watched it make a mess.
"Mr. Collins," he said pleasantly, "I believe I was rather explicit that Saturday was to be the appointed occasion. You have done quite enough for one evening. I think it best you take your leave."
Collins drew himself up. "Surely as the gentleman most nearly concerned I have some claim to be present when—"
"No," said Mr. Bennet. "Good night, Mr. Collins."
Collins departed, not without making it plain that he considered himself ill-used.
"And you," Mr. Bennet said, turning to his wife, "have said quite enough in the carriage, I imagine, without adding to it here. I will thank you to go upstairs. All of you."
Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth.
"Mrs. Bennet."
She went, in the manner of a woman who intends to have the conversation later and at greater length. The girls followed, Lydia muttering to Kitty, Mary silent, Jane with one brief look at Elizabeth that said more than was comfortable before she turned and went up.
Mr. Bennet opened the door to his book room and held it.
Elizabeth went in.
“Collins acted without my instruction,” he said, with the restrained annoyance of a man whose orderly plan had been made public in the most vulgar manner possible. “He will be spoken to. The matter itself, however, stands. I have made arrangements on your behalf. They are sensible arrangements,and they will be honoured. I have been your guardian for twenty years, and I think I know your interests rather better than a gentleman of six weeks’ acquaintance.”
"He asked for your blessing," Elizabeth said. "He came honourably, and you refused him without explanation."
"I explained perfectly well."
"You told him he meant nothing to you."
A slight pause. "I told him his interference was not welcome. That is a different thing."
"It is not a different thing to him. Nor to me." She kept her voice even. "I would also observe that this arrangement of yours was in place long before my journey to Brinmouth. That journey was permitted. If the acquaintance formed there has proved an inconvenience to your plans, I cannot think that entirely my fault."
Mr. Bennet looked at her with the look of a man recalculating. "The arrangement preceded any such acquaintance by some years, and I had not anticipated so considerable a complication. I will grant you that much. It changes nothing."
"There is one point," Elizabeth said, "upon which I should like clarification. Mr. Darcy told me that when he came to you, you spoke of my grandfather. Of something my grandfather had attempted and failed. Sir, I had always understood that both my grandfathers died long before I was born."
Mr. Bennet went very still.
"When did you speak with Mr. Darcy?" His voice had altered. "He was forbidden from this house. Did he approach you tonight?"
She would not lie. She did not answer.
"I asked you a question. Did he tell you about your grandfather tonight?"
Mrs. Bennet stood in the doorway, her cap askew, her expression that of a woman who has been listening at a gap in the door and has just heard the one word she did not expect.
"Who told her about her grandfather?" She looked between them. "Does that mean she knows? You said we were never to tell her."
"Fanny."
"You said we would lose everything. I have held my tongue for twenty years, I have let the whole neighbourhood think this hoyden is my own daughter, I have never said a word, not one word, and now she knows?"
