Lady Catherine's Necklace (2 page)

Mr Delaval by now was ingenuously confessing a passionate fondness for gardens, and enumerating the great estates he had already been privileged to visit: Thorpe, Kenilworth, Chatsworth, Beaumain. In some cases, he modestly averred, he had been so fortunate as to be able to make suggestions for improvement, which had been remarkably well received by the titled proprietors and even put into execution.

‘Humph!' remarked Lady Catherine. ‘You had need to be an enthusiast indeed to wish to inspect even the grounds of Rosings in such conditions as these.'

She cast a dour glance at the great windows, which, at present, displayed no more than a kaleidoscope of grey and fluttering snowflakes. ‘And I misdoubt your sister, just now, is in any state to be walking about pleasure gardens.'

‘But ma'am, what we are experiencing is no more than a momentary spring shower! Why, in no time at all, I dare swear, we shall see the sun shine again, this little flurry will be over and forgotten, and, I am quite certain, your skilful medical man will be able to make short work of my sister's bruise, or sprain, or whatever it proves to be.'

In fact, at this moment the surgeon himself, a Mr Willis, was announced, and Miss Delaval was carried off by two footmen to a chamber where her injury might be inspected in privacy and propriety. Mrs Jenkinson accompanied them.

When they returned, Mr Willis informed his august patroness that the sprain – for sprain it proved to be – was a tolerably severe one, and that Miss Delaval would be foolish indeed to resume her travels before two or three days at least had gone by.

By this time Lady Catherine was in such charity with the wit, knowledge and good sense of Mr Delaval that she felt not at all averse to having the brother and sister quartered at Rosings for that space of time.

‘At this season we do not expect to see many visitors here at Rosings,' she observed to her daughter. ‘Since Darcy married that encroaching girl, there is only FitzWilliam who may be looked for to entertain us and keep us in spirits – and until his arrival next week, we are not certain of receiving any but local callers, particularly in such unfavourable weather; our company may be confined to the Collinses.'

She spoke as if such hardship were thoroughly undeserved.

‘And with dear Mrs Collins so very close to her time,' pointed out Mrs Jenkinson, ‘it is not likely that we shall be seeing any more of her, just at this present.'

Lady Catherine threw her companion a censorious glance, indicating that the topic was an unsuitable one while her daughter Anne was within earshot. But Anne de Bourgh had not attended to what her mother was saying; she had been completely absorbed in a close and apparently critical study of the new arrivals.

At this moment, however, she chanced to turn her gaze to the great window, and remarked in a small, colourless voice:

‘Here comes Mr Collins now, Mamma, making great haste. He is
walking across the grass.
I wonder that he does not go round by the driveway…'

‘Oh, mercy!' cried Mrs Jenkinson apprehensively. ‘I do hope that nothing has gone amiss with poor dear Mrs Collins.'

Regardless of Lady Catherine's frown of reproof, she ran out into the ante-room, ejaculating as she went:

‘Dear Charlotte, poor Charlotte – oh, gracious, what can the matter be?'

Agitated voices were now to be heard from the anteroom. Towards these sounds Lady Catherine directed a look of decided disapprobation and impatience.

‘Let me hear what is being said!' she called. ‘I must have knowledge of what has occurred!'

Three people hastily entered the room: Mrs Jenkinson returning; a footman, who, in vain, attempted to make himself heard announcing the arrival of Mr Collins; and Mr Collins himself, a tall and portly clergyman, at present scarlet-faced and streaked with wetness from hastening through the wintry weather, who cried out, before he was half through the doorway:

‘Oh, your ladyship! Oh, dear Lady Catherine! Such news! Such tidings! I wished to make certain that your ladyship should be the first to receive the intelligence, as would be properly due your elevated position. So – so as you may see, I have come hastening across the park despite great discomfort and inconvenience resulting from the present unseasonable climatic conditions—'

Not at all impressed by his exclamatory manner, Lady Catherine demanded sharply:

‘Well, man, what is it? What has transpired? Come to the point, pray! Is all well with Mrs Collins?'

‘Oh, Mrs Collins, yes, yes, matters are going on more or less as they should, or so I am informed by the maidservants and other females; her sister Maria has arrived from Hertfordshire to bear Charlotte company through the time of travail.'

‘Indeed?' Lady Catherine pounced on this item of information with the vigour of a sparrowhawk swooping on a leveret. ‘And, pray, why was I not informed that Miss Lucas was expected so soon? Has she come all the way from Hertfordshire unattended? I cannot in any way bestow my approval on young ladies who travel such distances unescorted. It is wholly improper. I
never
permit my own daughter, Miss Anne, to ride even as far as Tunbridge Wells without the escort of at least two manservants. I would certainly have expected Sir William Lucas to afford his daughter more care than that.'

‘No, no, my lady, indeed,
indeed
you are wholly mistaken. My sister Maria Lucas comes only from London, where she has been visiting a cousin of Sir William, a Mrs Jennings, who, with her accustomed benevolence and solicitude, sent Maria on to us in her own coach with two manservants and a maid. Mrs Jennings is a lady of large fortune, and I assure you she is most attentive to such observances.'

‘Well then, why did you not say so, sir?' said Lady Catherine shortly. ‘Of course, I remember Miss Lucas perfectly well; she is quite a genteel, pretty-spoken young person. In fact she will be quite welcome here at Rosings House when Mrs Collins can spare her; she will provide company in some degree for Miss Anne de Bourgh. She has a pleasing voice, I recall, and is proficient on the pianoforte, almost as proficient as Miss Anne would have been, had her health permitted her to learn the instrument. But is that
all
you came to tell us, Mr Collins? Surely there was no occasion to come hasting through the snow just for that?'

‘No, no, ma'am, no, your ladyship, that was not it, not at all. What brings me here is the tidings, just half an hour since received by express, that Mr Bennet, my cousin, has died of a sudden seizure. As you are aware, ma'am, his estate, Longbourn Manor, is entailed upon myself; so it is highly requisite that I remove myself to Hertfordshire without the least loss of time, to make an inventory of the property and to attend to various legal matters pursuant upon Mr Bennet's demise. I come therefore to request your gracious permission to set off without delay.'

When she began to understand the reason for Mr Collins's sudden and dramatic arrival through the snowstorm, and his request for leave of absence from his parochial duties, Lady Catherine was not at all pleased.

In vain he pleaded that his curate, Mr Mark Lawson, would provide a tolerable substitute. In vain he pointed out that his wife Charlotte was expected to give birth to her third child very shortly, probably within the next few days, so that the ladies of Rosings House would, in any case, be deprived for a while of her cheerful company…

‘I am extremely vexed,' said Lady Catherine. ‘I was not expecting this at all. Especially when the weather is so disagreeable. It is not convenient, Mr Collins, that you should absent yourself at a time when we are also deprived of the company of Mrs Collins. Consider how shocking it would be if you were obliged to remain away over Easter? No, no; I cannot countenance a departure at such a time, at such a juncture. It will not do at all, not at all.'

Mr Collins wrung his hands beseechingly.

‘Mr Lawson is a most capable, most estimable young man,' he pleaded. ‘Your ladyship has been gracious enough to approve his sermons on two occasions when my wife returned to visit her parents at Meryton, and I accompanied her—'

‘No, Mr Collins. It will not do.'

At this moment Mr Delaval, who, with his sister, had been an involuntary witness to this exchange, cautiously but courteously intervened.

‘Pray, your ladyship, forgive my intrusion into such a private matter, but I could not help hearing, and wonder if I may offer a solution to your difficulty? I myself am in minor holy orders, and have not as yet succeeded to any living. May I perhaps be of assistance in this matter? Is it possible that I might replace this gentleman, to whom I have not yet been formally introduced, for a short period?'

Mr Delaval smiled his peculiarly open, engaging smile.

‘Humph,' said Lady Catherine, eyeing him thoughtfully. She looked almost ready to be convinced.

Mr Collins, on the contrary, seemed startled almost out of his wits.

‘Er – how d'ye do, sir,' he stammered. ‘Er – that is to say, my name is Collins, William Collins. I am happy to make your acquaintance, Mr—?'

‘Ralph Delaval at your service. By which I mean that I shall be delighted to
be
of service to you, if her ladyship can bring herself to countenance such an arrangement?'

‘Humph,' said her ladyship again.

She considered the two men confronting her. The difference between them was marked. Mr Collins, heavy-looking even when younger, had, during the past three or four years, perhaps due to his having partaken of exceedingly handsome and lavish dinners at Rosings House at least twice weekly, become decidedly paunchy, almost corpulent. Quitting his parsonage today in a ferment of excitement at the sudden news of his inheritance, he had neglected to change his costume for the superior apparel he would customarily have donned for an interview with his patroness, and just at present he appeared somewhat seedy and dingy, lacking even the last-minute tweakings and tidyings-up which his wife would have administered, had she not, at the moment when he left the house, been experiencing the first of her labour pains. Whereas Mr Delaval, as has been stated, despite the mishap to his chaise, still appeared remarkably elegant and point-device. His neckcloth was trimly tied and his dark hair, cut by the hand of a master, formed a decided contrast to the untidy strands that fell forward over Mr Collins's damp brow, and his grubby, frayed cravat.

‘Well: are you able to preach a respectable sermon, Mr Delaval?' demanded her ladyship.

‘So my friends at university assured me, ma'am,' bowed Mr Delaval, ‘and
never,
on any occasion I can assure you, of more than fifteen minutes in length.'

This last statement was almost accompanied by a smile, but sager instincts prevailed and he faced the lady instead with a grave, attentive look, like that of a person who hearkens to the summons of distant angelic voices.

‘Well … very well,' pronounced her ladyship again, after considerable thought. ‘Thanks to this gentleman's most opportune and considerate offer, Mr Collins, I am pleased to allow you one week's leave of absence for the parish. One week! No more. That should be amply sufficient for you to take possession of the Longbourn estate and attend to the necessary legal procedures. (A somewhat paltry and negligible holding, Longbourn, as I recall it, the one time I chanced to pass that way, the park very small indeed, and the rooms of the house no more than tolerable, with a most inconvenient parlour, facing due west, a thing I abominate.) Sir Lewis did not at all approve of entailing property. It was never thought necessary in either the de Bourgh or the Sherbrine families. Very well, Mr Collins, you may travel to Hertfordshire if you must. One week only, mind – no more!'

At this moment, Mrs Jenkinson tiptoed up to her employer and whispered some words in her ear.

‘What is that? What is that? Speak up, my good woman.'

Mrs Jenkinson whispered a little louder.

‘His wife? What about her? Lying in? Well, as to that, the woman must just manage as best she can. She has her sister, after all. But I cannot approve. All this is exceedingly vexatious. I am decidedly put out.'

Mr Collins retired with more protestations of thanks, and bowing so many times that Miss Delaval, watching him, felt sure he must have given himself a headache.

Lady Catherine, fatigued and harassed by such a succession of events, soon retired to her own suite of apartments, and Mrs Jenkinson, in her usual subdued murmur, instructed a footman to show the two unexpected guests to their chambers, which, by this time, had been made ready to receive them. There would, she whispered, be a collation of cold meats and fruit served later on, in about an hour's time.

Two footmen were ordered to carry Miss Delaval upstairs.

At that, Anne de Bourgh unexpectedly spoke up.

‘There used to be a basket-chair,' she said, ‘made for my father after he fell ill. See that it is found, Cowden, and placed at the lady's disposal.'

‘My dear Miss Anne, how clever of you to think of that!' cried out Mrs Jenkinson, throwing up her hands in astonishment, for Miss Anne de Bourgh practically never bestirred herself on any other person's behalf.

‘My sister and I are greatly obliged to you for the thought, Miss de Bourgh,' said Delaval with another of his polished bows. ‘Your suggestion is most apropos, and I shall take great pleasure in wheeling Priscilla about during the period of her disability, which I sincerely hope will be a short one.'

‘Thank you indeed!' said Miss Delaval to the girl, with her engaging smile. ‘A wheelchair gives one so much dignity. One feels absurd indeed, being borne about like a parcel!'

The chair was soon forthcoming, and Miss Delaval was wheeled away in it.

As her brother prepared to follow her, Anne de Bourgh said to him:

‘When the snow has melted, I will show you and your sister the way to the pleasure gardens.'