***
Mr. Bennet had said very little to his cousin while sitting in the parlour, but he took the opportunity to draw the man out at dinner that night. “Your letter mentioned your patroness,” he said. “Will you not tell us about her?”
“She is the most noble lady in the land,” Mr. Collins replied at once, unconcerned by the amount of food in his mouth. “Her kindness and condescension know no bounds. No detail of my life – or indeed, that of any of the members of my parish! – is too insignificant to escape her notice and full attention.”
“You and your parishioners are fortunate indeed,” Mr. Bennet replied, glancing around the table to make certain that his cousin’s idiocy was marked by everyone. Mr. Collins was unaware of the deep sarcasm in Mr. Bennet’s voice, and so agreed heartily that they were all very fortunate.
“Has she children?” Mrs. Bennet asked, frowning at her husband across the table. How were they to encourage the man to marry a Bennet daughter if he was insulted at dinner?
“She has one daughter, a very charming young lady indeed, and the heiress to all of Rosings Park.”
“Has she been presented?” Mrs. Bennet enquired, politely.
“Alas, no; her health precludes travel to London,” Mr. Collins replied.
“How old is she?” Mrs. Bennet went on, determined to sound interested.
“She is eight and twenty this year.”
“And not married?” Kitty joined the conversation, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “But surely an heiress –“
Mr. Collins interrupted. “She was betrothed to a cousin, but it was recently broken off. By her, of course, not him.” This was an important detail.
“Oh! I am sorry for him, then,” Kitty said. “To lose an heiress like that must be a hard blow.”
“The gentleman in question is himself the owner of extensive property; he had no need for an heiress. But his behaviour turned out to be most improper, and of course someone of Miss de Bourgh’s impeccable breeding and character could not be united with such a man,” Mr. Collins said. His voice was loud, his manner agitated.
The girls traded surprised glances; why was the man so upset?
“Of course,” Mrs. Bennet murmured, hoping to calm the man down.
But he was not done. “For any man to be worthy of Miss de Bourgh, his conduct must be above suspicion, and free from gossip!”
Elizabeth would have very much liked to know what the proposed groom had done that was so very appalling, but dared not ask. Instead, she said, “Mr. Collins, what can you tell us of Rosings Park?”
That, as it turned out, was the right question to ask. “Why, it is a veritable palace!” he said. “There are four – yes, four! – drawing rooms, as well as three dining rooms, the largest able to seat sixty people! There are at thirty-five windows at the frontof the house, including the servants’ rooms, and Lady Catherine informed me that Sir Louis de Bourgh paid a full six hundred pounds for the glazing!” He went on in this vein for some time, finishing triumphantly with, “And my modest cottage is separated from Rosings by only a lane!”
Mr. Bennet, unable to resist teasing his absurd relative, gasped in mock surprise and clapped his hands to his chest. “Only a lane? Truly, is this possible?”
Mrs. Bennet scowled at her husband, but the byplay was missed entirely by Mr. Collins, who assured his host, in the most animated language, that it was true. Only a lane, and a narrow one at that, separated the parsonage from the grounds of Rosings Park.
There was little amusement to be had in baiting a man so thoroughly unable to distinguish sarcasm from approbation; when Mrs. Bennet rose to lead the ladies from the table, Mr. Bennet declined to stay in the dining room with his cousin and instead suggested that they join the ladies in the parlour.
If Mr. Collins truly expected bible readings and the playing of hymns after dinner, he was sorely disappointed, for the girls were taking turns readingThe Romance of the Forestaloud. His clucks of disapproval were ignored. When Mary took her seat at the pianoforte, she launched into Haydn’sPiercing Eyes, accompanied by Elizabeth’s sweet soprano voice.
When the music ended, Mr. Collins turned to Mrs. Bennet and asked, in a loud and disapproving voice, “Is this the usual manner in which the family ends the day?”
Mrs. Bennet now felt it necessary to assure Mr. Collins that the family were faithful church-goers, and that Mary was often called upon to play the organ on Sundays. Mr. Collins nodded approvingly at that, but then said, darkly, “The future Mrs.Collins will not play or sing such melodies at the rectory; only hymns will be permitted.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
November 19th, 1811
Longbourn
Ithink…Miss Bennet,” Mr. Collins whispered to Mrs. Bennet the next morning after breakfast.
Mrs. Bennet had not missed Mr. Collins’ interest in Jane, but she had better things in mind for her eldest. “I am sorry, Mr. Collins, but my eldest daughter is almost engaged to a neighbour. We expect an announcement any day.” This was not quite the truth, but she suspected that nothing less than an almost-engagement would suffice to move Mr. Collins’ interest elsewhere.
