Every object in the next day's journey was new and interesting to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state for enjoyment; for she had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.
When they left the high-road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants. At length the Parsonage was discerned. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, everything declared that they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at a small gate, which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin's manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his enquiries after all her family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment.
Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at her friend that she could have so cheerful an air, with such a companion. When Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not infrequent, she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself.
To work in his garden was one of his most respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which the country, or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.
From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows, but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband's help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit.
When Mr. Collins could be forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort throughout, and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten. She had already learned that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining in, observed, "Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has several."
"Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed," added Charlotte, "and a most attentive neighbour."
"Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference."
The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and telling again what had been already written – the fate and disposition of Mr. Wickham being of particular interest and Elizabeth's role therein; and when it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon Charlotte's degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, and composure in bearing with her husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.
About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in confusion; and after listening a moment, she heard somebody running up stairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door, and met Maria in the landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out, "Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment."
Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more, and down they ran into the dining room, which fronted the lane, in quest of this wonder; it was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden gate.
"And is this all?" cried Elizabeth. "I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter!"
"La! my dear," said Maria quite shocked at the mistake, "it is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!"
"She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in?"
"Oh! Charlotte says, she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours when Miss De Bourgh comes in."
"I like her appearance," said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. "She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife."
Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth's high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that way. At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.
Mr. Collins's triumph in consequence of this invitation was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon was such an instance of Lady Catherine's condescension as he knew not how to admire enough.
"I confess," said he, "that I should not have been at all surprised by her Ladyship's asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation moreover including the whole party) so immediately after your arrival!"
"I am the less surprised at what has happened," replied Sir William, "from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the Court, such instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon."
Scarcely any thing was talked of the whole day, or next morning, but their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and so splendid a dinner might not wholly overpower them.
As Elizabeth gaily confessed to her sister, in the letter she wrote the following morning, the evening surpassed all of her expectations of impertinence, misguided condescension and foolish arrogance as would have delighted their father. She read her letter once more, hoping that she had conveyed her own appreciation of the pleasure of Lady Catherine's company.
Hunsford Parsonage
Kent
Dearest Jane,
I will not bore you with further evidence of our cousin's foolishness. My letter after I first arrived has, I hope, satisfied any cravings as you might unwisely suffer in that regard. As our father was wont to say, a little of Mr. Collins' company can suffice for several days, if not longer. I have already a surfeit and have been here but a few days. But enough of Mr. Collins. Last night we were privileged to dine with our cousin's patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
After being assured by our cousin that the lady would not think less of me if i was simply dressed since she likes the distinction of rank preserved, I resisted the temptation to wear my oldest gown, and satisfied myself with that light yellow one that I bought before Christmas. It hasn't been seen by the company here and must count as new I suppose. Dressing was quite an experience. I rather thought our Mama was present as our cousin must have urged me several times to hurry my dressing since Lady Catherine does not like to be kept waiting. Poor Maria was quite discomposed which, given her lack of sense, did not portend well for the evening.
Our cousin waxed rapturously as we walked the half mile to Rosings about the plentitude of windows and the cost of glazing as to quite upset Sir William and overset Maria altogether. For myself, I had heard nothing of Lady Catherine to inspire awe from any extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank I believed myself capable of witnessing without trepidation. Once we had arrived, our introduction was performed by Charlotte which I am assured must have shortened the time required by our cousin as those apologies and thanks were omitted which he believes so necessary.
Rosings is, I imagine, quite grand although I believe it gaudy and uselessly fine, meant to impress by a display of wealth with little true comfort or elegance. Sir William was so overwhelmed however that his bow was so low as to cause me concern that he might be unable to rise or indeed might fall forward, while Maria was rendered virtually senseless – perhaps an improvement although I suspect I am being too unkind – poor Maria. Lady Catherine is a tall, large woman, with strongly marked features, which might once have been handsome. Her air is not conciliating, nor is her manner of receiving us such as to make us forget our inferior rank. She is not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she says is spoken in so authoritative a tone as to mark her self-importance. She does in countenance and deportment bear some resemblance to Mr. Darcy although she could benefit from his habit of silence. Lady Catherine's daughter bears no similarity in face or figure to her mother being thin, small and speaking little except to her companion, a Mrs. Jenkinson of whom there is little remarkable.
The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants, and all the articles of plate which our cousin had promised; and, when he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship's desire, he looked as if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. My dear Jane, he carved, and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dish was commended, first by him, and then by Sir William, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever our cousin said. I wondered that Lady Catherine could bear it but she seemed most gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles. Lady Catherine was not disposed to allow any share of the conversation to belong to anyone else, a state which continued when we retired to the drawing room. I longed for my father. How he would have enjoyed the opportunity to gently expose the follies of our company.
Oh Jane! I am so glad our father supported me in refusing our cousin's offer of marriage. I could not have bourn Lady Catherine's interference in my household concerns. I can only marvel at Charlotte's ability to do so. Her ladyship enquired into Charlotte's domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her even as to the care of her cows and her poultry. When not instructing Charlotte, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and to myself particularly, of whose connections she knew the least. I am, I learned a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. She asked me at different times, how many sisters I had, whether they were older or younger than myself, whether any of them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they had been educated, what carriage out father kept, and what had been our mother's maiden name?
It took, I assure you, all my composure to answer these questions without becoming impertinent myself. Unfortunately my forbearance seemed only to encourage her ladyship who then began to inquire minutely into my accomplishments. She was most distressed that none of us draw, had not been taken to London to be taught by masters and that we had no governess – I admit to agreeing with her on this matter, a situation which is noteworthy only for its rarity. However when she heard that all of my sisters were 'out', she could hardly believe it and was not at all amused by my touch of impertinence when I said thought it would be very hard upon my younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement because you and I may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth, as the first. And to be kept back on such a motive! I told her I thought it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind. While I defended our family in this, I must admit that when I consider Kitty and Lydia's behaviour, I feel some agreement with her ladyship. To agree twice in one evening with her ladyship! – do not tell our father, please.
I will not bore you with the rest of the evening. We played casino until such time as Lady Catherine had played as long as she wished and then we were sent home – in her ladyship's carriage no less. Our journey back to the parsonage was brief but our cousin was most desirous of hearing my praises of Rosings and Lady Catherine; unfortunately, they appeared to be insufficient and he most readily assumed the burden of providing them for me.
You may be assured that I have spared your sensibilities by forbearing to relate much of the foolishness that I have endured. I truly envy you to be staying with our aunt and uncle. I suspect there is more sense spoken at Gracechurch Street in five minutes than would be heard in Rosings in a month.
Your most loving and envious sister,
Elizabeth
Having satisfied herself as to the letter, it was signed and posted that same day after which Elizabeth walked to Hunsford with Maria to investigate the shops there.
Sir William staid only a week at Hunsford; but his visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his mornings to driving him out in his gig and showing him the country; but when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden, or in reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room, which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the dining parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a pleasanter aspect; but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
From the drawing room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She not infrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes' conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed on to get out.
Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and then, they were honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work, and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins's joints of meat were too large for her family.
Elizabeth soon perceived that though this great lady was not in the commission of the peace for the county, she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty.
The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week; and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one card table in the evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart of the first. Their other engagements were few; as the style of living of the neighbourhood in general was beyond the reach of the Collinses. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough; there were half hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine's curiosity.
In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be important. Elizabeth had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few weeks, and his coming would furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties, and she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley's designs on him were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by Lady Catherine; who talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself. On her own behalf Elizabeth, recognizing that she had somewhat carelessly misjudged the gentleman in the past, was resolved to develop a better understanding of him; and, if her aunt's reports of Mr. Wickham's activities had sunk his character, they had also raised Mr. Darcy's. His manner, his pride and arrogance might be as distasteful as ever, but he obviously possessed some admirable attributes and it behooved her to identify them. His reserve, his disinclination to converse with others was, she could now see, the main impediment to her efforts and to this end she thought to make a greater effort to engage him in conversation. With such a taciturn gentleman it would, she thought, require all of her patience.
His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage, for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it; and after making his bow as the carriage turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord —; and to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them, from her husband's room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding, "I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me."
Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth curtseyed to him and mindful of her plan, immediately began speaking to him of her pleasure in visiting Kent, the grounds and the walks that she had enjoyed.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; and his cousin, perhaps surprised to be addressed so directly by Elizabeth, responded by inquiring, with some interest, of her what she perceived as the differences between Kent and Hertfordshire. When this topic had exhausted itself he lapsed into silence leaving it to his cousin to maintain the conversation. After some minutes Mr. Darcy addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins and then sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to enquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment's pause, added, "My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?"
She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the Bingleys and Jane; and she thought he looked a little confused as he answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The subject was pursued no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went away.
Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired at the parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter Sunday, almost a week after the gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little of either Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had only seen at church.
The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins's pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself as well as of Mr. Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship after a while shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out, "What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."
"We are speaking of music, Madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.
"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learned, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"
Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.
"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady Catherine; "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practise a great deal."
"I assure you, Madam," he replied, "that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly."
"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house."
Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding, and made no answer.
When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said, "You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."
"I shall not say that you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, are not your own."
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous of you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire - and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too - for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear."
"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly.
"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."
"You shall hear then - but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball - and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you - but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."
"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party."
"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."
"Perhaps," said Darcy, "I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers."
"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"
"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, "without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble."
"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."
"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault - because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as those of any other woman of superior execution."
Darcy smiled, and said, "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers."
Elizabeth was set to remark that she indeed did frequently perform to strangers and was expected to do so when they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Darcy, "Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."
Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss De Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation. Her small smirk at this thought was observed by both the Colonel and Mr. Darcy although both believed her to be amused at their aunt's blatant promotion of their cousin.
Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.
Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.
He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be within. They then sat down, and when her enquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergency recollecting when she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed, "How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London."
"Perfectly so - I thank you."
She found that she was to receive no other answer and, after a short pause, added, "I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?"
"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."
"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle."
"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchase offers."
Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his friend; and, recollecting that she had almost promised her aunt to improve her understanding of Mr. Darcy and her resolve to improve her understanding of him, spoke thus. "Mr. Darcy, I remember when last we met, a certain gentleman, with whom you were once acquainted, was discussed. I thought you might be interested to know that he has now joined the regulars and has been sent to fight in Spain."
Mr. Darcy's surprise was obvious and for several moments he had little to say until a small smile, which Elizabeth could easily identify as satisfaction, crossed his face.
"Indeed!" said he and then, after a very brief pause, added, "May I inquire as to how this came about?"
In a few short sentences she outlined the steps followed to make known Mr. Wickham's character. For his part, the gentleman listened with great interest and was warmly congratulatory of her efforts and those of her aunt.
"I will be forever in debt to your aunt and will not hesitate to say as much to her should we meet. I must tell my cousin this news. He will be as satisfied as I."
Elizabeth found herself a little dissatisfied that he had shown no discomfort at his lack of involvement.. Unable to suppress completely the touch of censure in her voice, she noted, "The information upon which we acted was of the common sort and known apparently throughout Lambton. If it had been made known earlier in Meryton, some of our shopkeepers might have incurred fewer debts."
Elizabeth was not unhappy to observe Mr. Darcy's discomposure at her words and he was at last content to express his regrets but that circumstances were such as to prevent his involvement. This statement satisfied neither of them and Elizabeth was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him. He took the hint, and soon began with, "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."
"I believe she did - and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."
"Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife."
"Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her."
"It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends."
"An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."
"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance."
"I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family."
"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."
As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield although an errant thought suggested that he might be referencing herself, and she blushed as she answered,
"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys - and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance."
Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, "You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn."
Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, said, in a slightly colder voice, "Are you pleased with Kent?"
A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from their walk. The tête-à-tête surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.
"What can be the meaning of this!" said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. "My dear Eliza he must be in love with you, or he would never have called on us in this familiar way."
Elizabeth admitted that they had conversed very well for much of the time although she could discern no particular warmth on his part and it did not seem very likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, to be the case; and after various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended him still more; and Elizabeth was not unaware of her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as of his evident admiration of her. Not least of his attractions was a well informed mind.
But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there several minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice - a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. Elizabeth made several attempts to find topics that would engage his interest and occasionally he would even appear animated but all too frequently would return to a quiet contemplation of the conversation taking place before him.
Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love, her friend Eliza, she sat herself seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.
She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.
In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was beyond comparison the pleasantest man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.
More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. On the first such occasion she felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! On both occasions it was not merely a few formal enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.
True to her resolve, she made an effort to draw him from silence since it seemed that, if left to himself, he would never say a great deal. On that first meeting, her efforts met with little success until she asked him to speak of Pemberley.
"Of what would you have me speak, Miss Bennet?"
"Of whatever gives you the most pleasure, Mr. Darcy. The grounds, the walks, views, the house. I know nothing of it and anything you share would advance my knowledge and understanding."
To this he was readily agreeable and they spent the remainder of their walk conversing about his estate and the beauties of the Derbyshire countryside, of his sister and her enjoyment of music and of some of those responsibilities which were his. With simple questions she prompted his thoughts and, without becoming too aware of what was happening, found her interest in the subject growing apace. The love and understanding of his home and of his sister that he so clearly, and perhaps inadvertently, expressed could not but improve her opinion of the gentleman and it was with a slight regret that she realized the parsonage was in sight and their walk to end.
Their second encounter was much as the first and, if she had thought their first to have been an accident, she could not do so any longer. That Mr. Darcy had deliberately sought her out with the intention of joining her walk was almost impossible to deny. That thought rendered her silent for the first few minutes as she thought about her response. Should she attempt to dissuade his interest? She could do so, she thought, with relative ease. Did she want to do so? That question was less easy to answer. Already she had come to the conclusion that her perception, her sketch of Mr. Darcy's character was flawed. There was much to admire of the man; and much to censure. If she was to dissuade him, that sketch would remain flawed and whether that was a good or a bad result she could not answer to but to be satisfied with a poorly completed effort offended her pride.
She finally sensed that Mr. Darcy was becoming a little uneasy at her continued silence and jested with him, "Do not be alarmed, Mr. Darcy. I once told you that I had such varying reports of you as to confuse me exceedingly. I remember you advising me not to attempt to sketch your character at that time since the performance would not do justice to either of us. I fear you were correct. I have resolved to attempt a new sketch and need your cooperation, sir!"
"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, Miss Bennet. How may I assist you?"
Elizabeth laughed at his rather teasing response and the relaxation in his countenance. It almost appeared that he was smiling although she could not be sure since his face was turned slightly away from her. When he did deign to look at her, she could not help but notice the intensity of his gaze and neither could she believe that it was censorious. Quite the reverse in fact! And realized that she had most likely misunderstood his actions from the very first. This thought was so unsettling as to discompose her severely and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she replied mentioning a book that she had recently finished reading, inquiring into whether he had done so and, upon learning he had indeed read it, seeking his opinions upon it. Their discourse was lively and meandered through several books that both had read. Their opinions varied but the ability of each to express those opinions in a pleasing and intelligent fashion did not. It could not be supposed that they agreed in every particular. In fact, the opposite was very much the case, but neither was inclined to discount the contrary opinion of the other and their disagreements were as pleasurable and respectful as their agreements. Before they parted she gave him to understand that it was her preference to walk at a particular hour every morning that the weather would allow and, while not actively seeking company, she was far from averse to enjoying it.
Once returned to the parsonage, Elizabeth knew she could not put off any longer a careful consideration of Mr. Darcy. His attentions were, she could now see, quite clear. It was impossible to suppose that he had met with her twice on her walks by accident. She could not be sure of his intent. Was he thinking of offering for her? Or was this the casual interest of a gentleman with little other activities to engage him. If it had been Colonel Fitzwilliam, she might believe it to be so since his manner was invariably genial but Mr. Darcy had never, to her knowledge, behaved so. His amiability these last few days was beyond anything she had previously encountered and indeed she had not thought it possible of him. That he was intelligent and possessed of a well informed mind she had early recognized; that he would be willing to engage her with it was unexpected and, if she had been previously disposed to think of him as condescending when he did so, she could not now detect any such attitude in his manner to her.
He was, she now knew, a very complex man. Of his pride and his disdain for those not of his close acquaintance she had ample evidence and could not approve. That he objected to her family, its behaviour and the poverty of its connections she could well believe; and, if she agreed with him that her family was all too eager to display its impropriety, it was not something that she could control nor would she deny her attachment to them because of it. His failure, and she could not conceive of a better description, to act against Mr. Wickham appeared to show clearly his disdain for her neighbours by not preventing or limiting the harm he inflicted on them. That he would not act to protect her sisters from what she believed to be a practiced seducer suggested that his approbation extended only to her who, since he believed her to recognize Mr. Wickham's nature, to be in no danger. And yet when pressed to justify his lack of action, he had appeared somewhat embarrassed but not so much as to offer a reason for his actions. While she could believe his motives derived solely from disdain, she believed him to be an honourable man and such actions would seem contrary to his character. Her frustration at the contradiction was great indeed but it was not a subject she felt ready to canvas him for an answer.
The manner of his attentions to her were also a puzzle. He had paid her little attention in Hertfordshire although his gaze could now be seen as an indication of his interest rather than derision. However, apart from asking her to dance at the Netherfield Ball, he had shown little interest. In fact, quite the reverse on many occasions – she had sat with him in the Netherfield library for a full half hour without him speaking anything but the barest civilities. And then, he had taken his leave of Hertfordshire, without warning – as though he could not depart quickly enough for his liking. He had been at Rosings a week - during which the Colonel called at the parsonage several times - without visiting. Even now, it took some effort on her part to engage his interest in conversation. If she had not made the effort, she thought they might complete the whole walk with little more than a dozen words exchanged.
Of her own feeling she was equally uncertain. That she no longer despised him as she once did, she could accept. In learning more of his character, his good qualities were more apparent; however, she was unsure if she actually liked him. Those characteristics of prideful arrogance and disdain could not recommend him to her. Would he offer for her? She rather thought it unlikely. Not as impossible as she once believed but certainly unlikely, very unlikely. Would she accept such an offer? She could not see how that would be possible. Her own experience of marital felicity was not one she wished to emulate. Her father's behaviour toward her mother was abhorrent to her. Attracted to a woman of beauty but mean intelligence, his manner towards her revealed a degree of contempt that she could not wish to experience from her husband. Given Mr. Darcy's nature, could she believe that his affection for her would long survive in the face of his disdain for the poverty of her connections? The wealth and status that would accompany such a marriage would be poor compensation for a lifetime of misery that would ensue if such were the case. No, she did not believe he would offer for her but, if he did, could she allow herself to accept? Prudent she was willing to be; but to accept in the knowledge that she would be miserable was not prudence but mercenary and she thought too well of herself to be willing to endure such a life. She smiled to herself at the thought of her mother's reaction should she learn of Mr. Darcy's attentions and her daughter's unwillingness to accept an offer of marriage should it be made. Her lamentations would reached new heights and Elizabeth suspected she would have to flee to her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for relief and her stay there would be of no short duration.
Armed with the knowledge of her habit of walking at a regular time, Mr. Darcy became a frequent companion and their comfort with each other increased apace, albeit, slowly. Their conversations flowed a little more freely and Mr. Darcy was, as far as she could determine, more open in his manner. Certainly he was an engaging participant and it their conversations were, for the most part, light and insubstantial, they also proved convivial. Not all their conversations were lighthearted and she was to tease him on more than one occasion about his behaviour in Hertfordshire. Once they had been discussing Bingley's amiability and Elizabeth had cause to think of Darcy's behaviour. She forced herself to consider her next words carefully, since he could easily be offended by them. After a few moments, she felt she had to proceed - the issue would not disappear after all – and said in as neutral a tone as possible as she probed, "Are you aware of how you were viewed in Hertfordshire?"
"I think I am now although I truly gave it very little consideration at the time."
"Are you aware that your manner led them and myself to believe that you felt us as unworthy of your attention or consideration? That we were beneath your notice perhaps?"
Under her hand she could feel his arm tensing and saw a severe cast come over his countenance as he mastered his emotions. He also strove to match her dispassionate tones as he replied, "I have lately forced myself, if you will, to reconsider the whole of my time there. Was it really so dreadful?"
"Yes. They were prepared to welcome you into their homes and did so. It seemed to them, and myself, the expression of your countenance gave us all to believe that you found no pleasure in our company and that it was most distasteful. You made no effort to hide your opinion of all of us."
"My recollections of my behaviour have grown only more unhappy, Miss Bennet, I assure you." His sombre mien remained for much of that walk despite her efforts to lighten the mood once more; and if he did not appear the following day, he did join her a day later his mood strangely altered and imbued, she thought, with an increased desire to be pleasing and attentive. That she had felt the loss of his company on that day, she admitted to herself and wondered at such a reaction. Could her opinion of the gentleman be changing?
It struck her in the course of their most recent rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions - about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. If she had not discerned his interest in her, she might well have believed him to have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts and might have supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. However her responses to his inquiries, which she realized were not disconnected at all, were composed. She admitted to an appreciation of Hunsford insofar as the walks were concerned, to pleasure in her friend's company, the opportunity to make a new acquaintance in the Colonel and to improve an acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. Left unsaid was the lack of any pleasure to be found in the company of Mr. Collins or in his aunt, Lady Catherine. Of the happiness of the Collinses, she was reluctant to say much other than to articulate, with some caution – fearful of bringing on those addresses which she thought he might harbour -, her belief that a marriage not based on mutual esteem and respect would be distasteful to herself and, with a cautious glance at Mr. Darcy, to her sister Jane. Of the possibility of visiting Rosings she was not prepared to say much other than to admit of its possibility although she believed it unlikely that she would visit her friend again for several years.
It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage. Charlotte was not so engaged in her household duties as to be unaware of her friend's discomposure and followed her as she mounted the stairs to her room. Asking for and receiving permission to enter she found Elizabeth ensconced in the armchair by her window, wrapped in a light blanket – while spring was upon the land, the days remained cool and the parsonage far from overheated. Elizabeth smiled and raised her eyebrow in the questioning look that her friend had come to know so very well.
"It seemed to me, Eliza, that you were…discomposed when you came back from your walk. Did something happen?"
Elizabeth was silent for several minutes wondering if she could or should seek counsel from her friend. If Jane were here, she might well reveal her thoughts. Charlotte, however, had obligations which might make such confidences unwelcome and harmful to Elizabeth's interests. Finally, she decided to see how willing Charlotte might be to preserve her confidences.
"Charlotte, I have that which I would talk with you about but would have to be kept secret from everyone, including your husband and your family. I will not burden you with them if such a pledge is…impossible for you to give."
Elizabeth could see her friend's face grow increasingly thoughtful. After a minute or so Charlotte asked, "How long would I have to conceal this information?"
Elizabeth considered her response, "I would think no longer than my stay here. Once I leave, I believe the need for secrecy will be gone." And watched as her friend deliberated for several minutes before responding.
"Very well Eliza. I will honour your confidences until you leave." She laughed, "Now what has happened? Has Mr. Darcy made you an offer of marriage?"
Elizabeth could not conceal her surprise saying, "No! No he has not…but I fear he might well do so."
Charlotte's amazement could not be hidden and she made little effort to do so but it quickly became apparent that it was compounded of equal parts of surprise that events had progressed to the point where her friend might expect an offer and that she 'feared' it being made. It was to the latter that she responded, "Fear, Eliza! I am astounded that you would say as much!" Looking at Elizabeth more closely, she blurted, "You are not thinking of refusing him. Surely not! You could not be so foolish!"
Elizabeth grimaced, "I had rather expected such a response from you Charlotte. And yes, I do not see how I can accept him." She was inclined to expand on her thoughts but was prevented from doing so by her friend's interjection, "Eliza, you must listen to me. I know you disagreed with my accepting the offer from Mr. Collins. That we do not think alike on matters of marriage…well, we have expressed our differing thoughts too frequently for me to wish or need to repeat them again. But there are several…thoughts, no perhaps considerations that you must think on. Will you listen and promise to give them some thought? You have extracted a promise of secrecy from me which I have given. From you I would ask a promise of listening to my thoughts and for you to consider them carefully. Will you do this?"
At her friend's slow nod, Charlotte continued, "First and most obvious, Mr. Darcy is not Mr. Collins. I know and understand why you could not accept the offer from Mr. Collins. You would have done very poorly under the eye of Lady Catherine. She has tested even my patience. Yours - I shudder to consider. Mr. Darcy is not a foolish man, he is not only respectable but intelligent and responsible. Consider if you will that he has undertaken the responsibility of raising a sister who was but ten or eleven when he was made her guardian at her father's death. He did so at the age of two-and-twenty when most young men are engaged in frivolous activities and while having to take on the responsibilities of a great estate. You say he is proud but surely he has reason to be so given the responsibilities he must discharge. I would also point out that he has visited his aunt regularly, whose company is obviously somewhat distasteful to him and, in doing so, exposes himself to her presumptions and dictates – not that I think he will be bound by them but he could easily avoid them altogether. That he does not do so speaks well for his sense of responsibility. I might add that his manner in no way reflects that of his aunt. He has been nothing but civil to me and my husband and to you as well during his stay."
Charlotte paused to collect her thoughts and, before Elizabeth could think to respond, continued, "I would have you think further on this, Elizabeth. I am eight-and-twenty and had to accept an offer from a man like Mr. Collins in order to secure a home and security. You are twenty and Jane, I think, three-and-twenty and still unmarried despite being one of the most beautiful women in Hertfordshire."
Elizabeth could not help exclaiming, "She would be married now if it were not for the efforts of Mr. Bingley's sisters and friend!"
"Perhaps…and perhaps not! I know you are convinced that Mr. Bingley was persuaded against an attachment but that speaks poorly for either the strength of his attachment or his resolve or both, does it not?"
Elizabeth could see her friend waiting for her to acknowledge the truth of her words and, remembering her aunt's similar opinion, assented reluctantly – a fact which Charlotte acknowledged with a small smile.
"My point, Eliza, is that we have all reached an age where we should or could have been married – even you. The reason we are not is one that we must accept. The number of men with whom we can consider an attachment is limited and we, none of us, have the portions to attract decent men in need of such to support a wife. You have no reason to concern yourself now, Lizzy, but in five years will you be so sanguine? Can you afford to be? I know you despair of your mother's efforts to have you married but you must admit the reality of your situation. If her efforts are somewhat misguided, the purpose should not be disparaged." Charlotte thought of the entail problem and chose to ignore it. Her friend could easily understand that it inspired much of her mother's efforts.
Sounds from below intruded on their consciousness and both realized that the time that could be spared for a confidential talk had ended. As Charlotte rose she offered one last plea, "I must attended below. I will say no more unless you wish to talk further. I will only ask that you honour my request and take…give careful consideration to any response you make to an offer from Mr. Darcy, should he make one."
Receiving Elizabeth's agreement, she quit the room leaving Elizabeth to begin the arduous task of trying to resolve her uncertainties in regards to Mr. Darcy. This task was to absorb her for much of the remainder of that day and the next and she was pleased to not have her attention distracted by visitors to the parsonage. If her distraction was of concern to the others it was not apparent and she was sure that Mr. Collins was completely insensible to the fact. When she finally closed in her eyes the next night she had, for the most part, arrived at a decision.