Gay Pride and Prejudice (18 page)

“My dear madam,” he replied, “this invitation is particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as possible.”

They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said: “But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of offending your patroness.”

“My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her ladyship’s concurrence.”

“You cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything rather than her displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we shall take no offence.”

“Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such affectionate attention; and depend upon it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth.”

With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others; there was a solidity in his reflections which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before.

The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two; but that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility as she could encourage him herself, and her astonishment and hurt were consequently so great that she could not help crying out: “Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte—impossible!”

The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a reproach; though, as it was no more than she had expected, she soon regained her composure, and calmly replied: “Why should you be surprised, my dear Lizzy? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”

“Not any woman’s, Charlotte, but yours,” said Elizabeth with not a little passion. Rising, she paced to the window. “Why ever would you do such a thing?”

“As I told you before, Lizzy, I believe marriage to be not only a woman’s duty but her fate, whether there be love in the match or not. You have always known that I wanted a home of my own, and children, should God see fit to bestow them.”

This much was true. And yet, Elizabeth had never imagined that Charlotte was capable of such cool calculation toward an object of which she herself knew nothing; an end that would result in their certain separation. “But this means we will see no more of each other.”

“Perhaps not exactly as we have done, but I will always be your friend, Lizzy, and you mine. Will you not?”

Elizabeth hardly knew how to answer this question. Could she remain Charlotte’s stalwart friend, even as she watched her marry another? And yet, she could not imagine losing Charlotte entirely. While the distance between Hertfordshire and Hunsford was considerable, it was not insurmountable. What felt more insupportable by far was the detachment of affection Charlotte’s actions had effectively occasioned.

“But Mr. Collins, of all people,” said Elizabeth at last.

“Would you not rather have me as Longbourn’s mistress, than some cold, unfeeling stranger? Lizzy, don’t you see? I had to do this.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I see nothing of the sort.”

“Come, now. What we have shared together has been lovely, the most pleasant, in fact, of idylls—in its own time. But you cannot pretend that it would have been enough, in the end.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I wish it could have been.”

“As do I. But you will see, Lizzy, this is truly the best possible course. This way, we will always be connected.”

Elizabeth flung herself into Charlotte’s willing arms, and the two friends embraced for some time, not a few tears shed between them. Finally Elizabeth recollected herself, and making a strong effort for it, was able to assure with tolerable sincerity that she wished Charlotte all imaginable happiness in her upcoming marriage.

“I see what you are feeling,” replied Charlotte, brushing Elizabeth’s hair back from her cheek. “But when you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not sentimental like you, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins’s character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.”

Elizabeth quietly answered, “Undoubtedly;” and after an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family.

Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It would be a long time before she could become at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always known that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was somewhat more practical than her own, but she had not supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she would sacrifice every better feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte as the wife of Mr. Collins was a most distressing picture! To the pang of personal betrayal and lost esteem, was added the firm conviction that it would be impossible for her friend to ever be even tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen.

Chapter Twenty-Three

E
LIZABETH WAS SITTING WITH HER MOTHER
and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, and much self-congratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter—to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed: “Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”

Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William’s good breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.

Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she was readily joined after a moment’s hesitation by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.

Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Elizabeth was the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she herself had been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her, a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their daughter.

Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his daughter. Indeed, he was in fact gratified; for if he were not mistaken, Miss Lucas had just done Elizabeth the favor of removing herself as a competitor for Lizzy’s affections, thereby clearing the way for a future, better-suited match. Charlotte Lucas was neither Lizzy’s equal in beauty nor spirit, and Mr. Bennet hoped his favourite daughter would someday meet one who matched her in both.

Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton. Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness. Taking advantage of a brief pause in Mrs. Bennet’s remonstrations on the subject, however, she added: “Lizzy, come upstairs with me, will you? I believe I have an idea for a new dress, and I would have your opinion.”

Knowing well what was coming, Elizabeth followed Jane up to their room, where she threw herself on the bed and poured out her distress, while Jane held her hand and listened attentively.

“I simply cannot believe she would scheme so behind my back!”

“Perhaps it was not so much scheming as it was protecting your feelings, for she had to have been aware how uncommonly painful such a match would be to you.”

“I hardly think my feelings were uppermost in her mind, Jane. Charlotte sees Mr. Collins as her best chance at worldly success.”

“And is she wrong?”

“I do not care about right or wrong!” cried Elizabeth. And then, rubbing her eyes: “But she is likely perfectly justified.”

“Does her desire to be married come as a surprise to you?”

“No, of course not. She has always wanted a house and a family of her own, on that she was quite clear.”

“And you? Do you long for a house and a family to call your own?”

“Honestly? I much prefer a woman’s company, Jane, I truly do. But I cannot imagine life without children. Unless, of course, I were to end up with miniature versions of Lydia and Mary, and then I should be most happy to remain barren.”

“I see your wit at the expense of others has recovered.”

“My best trait, is it not?”

“I would not say so, no.”

“Oh, Jane,” said Elizabeth, laying her cheek against her sister’s shoulder. “Why does she not love me?”

“She loves you, I have seen it in her countenance. Perhaps she is just not as brave as you would have her be, Lizzy. For in order for such an attachment to endure, with all the world arrayed in opposition, it would have to be a powerfully brave love, I would imagine.”

Briefly, Elizabeth found herself picturing Caroline Bingley, another woman such as she and Charlotte. During their first few meetings, Caroline had demonstrated a vexing conformity to the dictates of polite society; but on subsequent occasions, her willingness to trespass against what man deemed as natural and right had become increasingly apparent. Unfortunate that she had proven quite as willing to trample upon Jane’s friendship—Elizabeth should have liked to have another friend such as herself; had the situation been different, she might even have written to Caroline in London. But as it was, the recollection of Caroline Bingley’s character could not offer her any relief from her present agitation.

With Charlotte’s engagement now public knowledge, Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.

Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return.

Jane had sent Miss Bingley an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth’s abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.