Lady Catherine's Condescension Chapter 33, a pride and prejudice fanfic

This chapter is dedicated to SunriseImagination who reread this story before advising me as to whose POV it should be from and what it should cover (I had responded to her review and then we exchanged some pms). She was brilliant in her insight, and so I have happily followed her advice. Readers, you really do make a difference!

I have been fiddling with this chapter for what seems like months. I hope it is finally ready. It is certainly long enough.

Chapter 33: Mr. Collins's POV: Gardening and the Giving of Advice

I have observed before, that men who would never visit with me in the at the vicarage or at the church, somehow will "happen upon me" while I am tending to my land, working among my plants, or bringing feed to Charlotte's chickens or scraps to our pig. It is somehow more pleasant for them to meet me out of doors at a time of their own choosing, where they may remain for an indefinite period of time.

It should not be so surprising I suppose, for Mr. Darcy sought my advice about his problem out in this very garden a few years ago. Like most men, he only wanted to talk, did not think I would have anything helpful to tell him.

Listening and praying for them is as much as I can do for many, but I do advise when advice is sought. Of course some do not know they seek advice and I must use much delicacy in imparting anything to them, for I do not want them to skitter off like scared rabbits who have happened upon a fox.

When Mr. Bingley came to see me, it was early for growing things yet, but I had lately planted some peas and was examining the ground for any shoots. After that I planned to enrich the soil with some manure (both pig and horse). It was to be a messy, smelly business, so I was happy enough to put it off when he arrived.

While ideally, all landowners should be most knowledgeable about the land and growing things, Bingley showed a lack of awareness in stepping onto the furrow where I had planted my peas as he greeted me. "How goes it, Vicar Collins?"

Mr. Bingley is generally a jovial fellow in the company of his fellow man, but I saw a deep furrow upon his forehead and another between his brows. Both if not deep enough to plants peas, would have worked for spinach seeds.

"Well enough, I suppose," I responded.

"You must be wondering about my presence here."

Of course I was, but instead I replied, "What is to wonder about a man wishing to spend some time in the warmth of the sun after our cold, long winter?"

Yet Mr. Bingley apparently still felt the need to justify his presence as he explained "I have just come from Pemberley. My family and I were visiting the Darcys. Jane and the children remain with them still while Darcy had to attend to some business. Women cannot share their secrets with one such as me in attendance." He gave a little self-deprecating laugh, although his face did not match the joviality of his tone or voice.

"You are most welcome here," I told him. Adjusting my plans, I told him. "I was just about to stretch my legs and take a walk around the glebe, see if any repairs need to be made to the stone wall this year. Perhaps you will join me?"

Mr. Bingley nodded and so we walked along. In truth, I was almost certain there was nothing to be found wrong with the wall, but an occupation seems necessary to get some men to talk about anything of substance, and I was almost certain that Mr. Bingley was one of those men. He told me about his son and daughter, and I talked about my brood, but I did not think that what he was speaking of, was truly what was on his mind.

Much to my surprise, at almost the first portion of wall, I saw that two of the stones were next to the wall rather than part of it. Bingley helped me lift and adjust the larger stone to fit it back into the whole and he was picking up the top stone to place it before I was even satisfied that the bottom one was seated just right.

"Wait a moment, Mr. Bingley. Let me make sure this one is secure." I tested it, saw that it wobbled. "If you could be so good as to set that stone down and help me bring this one down beside it, I think mortar shall have to be applied to fix them, and 'twill be easier to find the problem again with the stones kept separate."

Mr. Bingley did as I bid, asking, "Do you have a mason for the task? I can send someone to help you with it."

I was glad for his interest but noted, "Mr. Darcy sees to all the repairs that I cannot manage myself, provides them through his men. He is a most generous and diligent patron, among the best."

Although I did not name her, my mind flitted to the period of my life when I lived at the parsonage at Hunsford and of the care that Lady Catherine had provided to me, and then to me and Mrs. Collins, before we relocated to Derbyshire. Lady Catherine was the first person since Grandmama who truly seemed to care for me, had offered such practical advice when it came to my wedding night and many other times beside.

"I am glad to hear of it," Mr. Bingley offered, but I had the sense that he might just be a bit displeased. There are some who like you in their debt before they ask a favor, and I wondered if I should have accepted his help so I could be in the position of needing to oblige him. But it would not be seemly to accept his help for something that Mr. Darcy provided.

We continued to walk the perimeter in silence after that. The interruption of considering the needed repair had halted his discussion of his son's latest antics and while I could have reminded him of it, prompted him to continue the story, I was content to let that part of our conversation come to an end. I still had no idea what Mr. Bingley really wished to talk about, but was almost certain it had nothing to do with his children, for the lines on his forehead and between his brows had smoothed almost entirely as he spoke of them.

I resolved to remain silent until Mr. Bingley spoke next. I still feel some moderate discomfort with remaining in silence with those I do not know well, but I no longer seek to fill silence with meaningless chatter or flattery. I was not the man I once was. For when I was newly ordained (and also when moving to occupy the vicarage, knowing that Mr. Darcy did not truly want me here), I often felt the imposter, but in settling into my marriage and my occupation and fatherhood besides, in my middle years I now know that I have been placed where God in his providence wanted me to be. He used me to deliver the Darcys from childlessness, used me to aid many in the village both with leading them to God and in providing more practical help and I am certain he has work for me among his people still. There is nothing I need to prove.

It was perhaps three years ago when Charlotte explained to me that in her own mind, "I delight in being married to you, my William. As William, you are a gentle and loving man, who perhaps is a bit shy and lacking in confidence, but very kind and good." She said, though, "Forgive me, my husband, but while I dearly love you, I also live with a Mr. Collins, a man of false bravado that fills the air with the sound of his own voice, who (please forgive me William) is obsequious and vapid." She told me, "I do my duty towards Mr. Collins, but I love my William. I know both are you, but Mr. Collins seems to me to be the shell that protects the softer, more vulnerable William who dwells within. Can you tell me, why have you needed to be Mr. Collins?"

At first I had no answer to give Charlotte. I had not thought of myself in such a way. And it was frightening that she saw me in that way. But because I already had years of her faithful companionship, I could hear what she told me much better than I might have before, understood that she was not trying to criticize or attack me. Still, I felt disquieted and she must have seen that, for Charlotte leaned forward, placed herself into my arms and just held me. I felt a warm feeling of acceptance then.

I had no answer for her that day, but in considering the matter, it led me to be much more introspective. I did not recall ever acting as Mr. Collins with my Grandmama. As near as I could recall, I began to act the part of Mr. Collins when I came to live with my father. I used to try to tame my father with flattery, tried to make friends by telling other people what I thought they wanted to hear, tried to hide my discomfort behind a wall of words. Mr. Collins could scarcely be hurt, for he had a confidence in his own puffed up importance. I did not like Mr. Collins very much, but I needed the armor he provided, at least I thought I did.

But Charlotte, my sweet Charlotte, loved the real me. It was then that I tried to make a conscious effort to shed that second skin, to be more William while maintaining a bit of the confidence of Mr. Collins. I had not yet gotten there entirely, but I was far more myself than I had been before.

Still, I am not sure how much progress I would have made thus far, if not for another important event, a candid talk with Mr. Bennet at his stag party, the night before he was to wed Lady Catherine. When Mr. Bennet apologized for leaving me with my drunkard of a father, it turned all my suppositions of why such an event had occurred on its head. For years I had believed that Mr. Bennet had rejected me because there was something amiss with me, that I did not deserve any better. But when he confessed that it was his only insolence and selfishness which caused him to make such a choice, that told me all my suppositions were wrong.

Too, when Mr. Darcy opined that had the circumstances of my life been different that Mr. Darcy might not have ever come to marry my cousin, well it made me consider how my life had unfolded. In clinging to the family Bible I had inherited from my Grandmama, in taking comfort in the physical presence of that large book and later God's word, I knew I was meant to be a clergyman. But if Mr. Bennet had taken me with him, raised me as his heir to be a landowner, I likely never would have been ordained, never been recommended to Lady Catherine, never had the living at Hunsford. While I suppose I could have still married my Charlotte, without Lady Catherine's advice, would I have ever learned to please her in the marital bed? Would we still have all our same children?

But it was not just my life which might have been changed. My effect on others, although seemingly small, had at least altered the course of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy's lives. It caused me to ponder whether God might have a plan for my life and that my own suffering at the hands of my father might be part of that plan.

I had long known from my studies of the Bible that something one intended for ill could serve God's purposes. After all was not Joseph sold into slavery so that he could save his own people during a time of famine? Still, I had long considered my own life too insignificant to be worthy of God's notice, but seeing how my circumstances had impacted others meant something to me.

I did not expect further exchange with Mr. Bennet about his treatment of me as a child. I had said my piece, had it acknowledged (and received an unexpected apology) and expected the matter to be at an end. However, in the weeks after Mr. Bennet returned to Pemberley with Lady Catherine, he arranged to meet with me and when he did, apologized for his actions again.

I tried my best to be gracious in accepting his apology, noting "You did not do nothing. You did me a good turn in seeing to it that I received my education."

Mr. Bennet replied with a shake of his head and somehow appearing older and graver than he had before, "Do not try to absolve me of my guilt. I have concluded I acted selfishly even there, for I did not want Longbourn to go to a man who would allow all my work to decay. I acted wrongfully towards you. Our discussion has caused much introspection on my part and my conscience had pricked me mightily.

"At first I thought, my behavior toward you was abhorrent, out of character. But upon further examination, I have concluded that instead it is representative of my general approach to life, one that I wish to change. I always sought to do what was easier for me immediately, rather than to put in needed work and sacrifice for a better future for those for whom it was my obligation to care about. I chose frivolity over work at every turn (and yes, someone can be frivolous in buying too many books when the money needed in truth to be spent elsewhere, focusing on tomes of substance and taking on the pretension of being a great thinker, someone who is above such things as work), and while my frivolity was of a different form to that of Mrs. Bennet, it was frivolity nevertheless.

"I acted in a way calculated to harm many, had I ever taken the time to consider it rather than to laugh it off. I harmed my wife and children in not working to set aside funds for their future, in letting Jane take on the burden of believing she had to marry well to care for the rest when I was gone and belittling her, in favoring my Lizzy and preferring her company over that of my own wife, in ignoring Mary, in letting my wife simply enjoy the company of my younger daughters, especially Lydia, and not strive to teach them how to use their heads. I, a university man, could have set them all at proper lessons, helped them understand the difference between love and commitment, and temporary amusement, taught them what many men are about. But I did not, and Lydia's future is quite fixed in a manner for which I cannot be proud, but even this . . . her marriage to Mr. Wickham, why it could have been far worse.

"I deserve to be punished for my insolence, my lack of care, and yet I get to live a fine life here, married to a woman who lowered her consequence in marrying me. Who is a much finer spouse than I deserve, and my long suffering wife, Fanny, who in her ignorance sometimes harmed our daughters but always sought for their own good, never got to enjoy the final triumph of seeing them all well disposed in marriage. This is a topsy-turvy world."

I told Mr. Bennet, "The ways of God are a mystery, but all sin and are worthy of death, but some are redeemed regardless, although even our good deeds are nothing but dung and will pass away."

He clapped me on the shoulder and said, "You are a wise man. I never thought I would say such a thing, but here we are. I am a stupid man and you are the wise one. But yet, the sun shines upon us both."

I was not sure I was a wise man, but in having Mr. Bennet acknowledge my worth and how he had failed me, I felt better somehow. Acting as William felt more natural then, like clothes that used to hang, but have shrunk to fit. Whereas once Mr. Collins felt better, now William does.

I know I am not better than most men, but as William I can own the mistakes that Mr. Collins would never acknowledge. Although I try to do what I can for my fellow man, in doing so I am apt to fumble and oft to be unsuccessful. Yet, still, I continue to try.

In the here and now with Mr. Bingley, I paused, now and again, to test the firmness of the top rocks and found a further location where the rock did not fit tight. I removed it, set it beside the wall and continued on.

"Is the mortar always necessary?" Mr. Bingley asked me after a while, "Might it not be better to chip away at a bit of the rock, make it just fit the other better?"

"Adjusting the rocks may be an option," I acknowledged. "I must confess I know little about how the masons can assemble a sturdy rock wall with hardly any mortar to begin with. They must know how to fit the rocks together just so. But now that the wall has been a whole for many a year and seemed sound before, they may not wish to risk breaking the rock, for I imagine it would be difficult to find a new rock to fit this hole."

"Perhaps some rocks are not meant to fit together," Mr. Bingley commented.

"Perhaps not, but in these sections, they were meant to come together and can form a whole again."

He fell silent once more and I pondered whether we might not be talking about rocks anymore. Mr. Bingley then asked me, "How did you and Mrs. Collins come to marry?"

It was an innocuous sort of question, and I had the sense that he wished for a story. I had not had cause to tell this story to anyone, although I had thought about it over the years, adjusted my interpretation of many things. If Mr. Bingley was expecting some grand story of romantic love, well that was not what he was going to get, at least not at first. For while I loved my wife deeply and knew she felt the same, in truth it was not always so.

"I believe you know that I am Mr. Bennet's heir presumptive to his estate of Longbourn." He nodded. "While any chance of Mr. Bennet having a son is nigh impossible, would require a series of events so unlikely that I cannot believe they would happen, that was not always so. For certainly the first Mrs. Bennet might have given her husband a son. However, I was still a lad when I learned that I might, just might, inherit from him after my father. My father and he did not get along and at least part of that was because Mr. Bennet asserted himself enough to make sure I would get the education to which I was entitled . . . " I realized I was rattling on and not answering his question, so I summed up, "but that it all a story for another day."

Therefore I asked, "Mr. Bingley, do you recall being in company with me a time or two when you were occupying Netherfield when I was visiting the Bennets?"

He considered. "Were you not at my ball? I seem to recall you dancing with Miss Elizabeth."

"Yes, quite." I felt a flush of embarrassment; I was not a skillful dancer but I had been determined to lay claim to my cousin by dancing the first with her. "What you may not know is that I came to Hertfordshire with the express purpose of taking one of my cousins to wife, as a sort of apology for being the heir presumptive, and because Lady Catherine said I ought to find a wife, a practical, useful sort of women. Naturally, initially, I set my eyes on Cousin Jane, as first in beauty and years."

I glanced over at him then to see how he was reacting to such news. It is not every day that a man tells another man that he once wished to marry his wife.

Mr. Bingley said nothing for a few awkward moments and then responded, "While I would not have taken kindly to your interest then, in seeing how it all came out . . . well it is diverting to be sure." His calm words did not match the furrows in his face.

"I did not have such thoughts for very long, for Mrs. Bennet told me that Jane was being courted by you and likely to receive a proposal before long."

While I thought my words would relax him, Mr. Bingley's shoulders crept up and there was a strong tension in his whole body. I recalled then that from the intelligence I received from my wife when we were newly married that while the neighborhood had expectation that Mr. Bingley would return from town before too long and marry Miss Bennet, that he had not returned for many months. Did he feel bad about such actions?

"So, naturally, my eyes turned to Cousin Elizabeth as next in seniority and beauty. Although, in looking back upon it, I do not think she was pleased with my interest. You see, I was thinking then of marriage as a practical endeavor, in which one might make assurances of love as a matter of course, of politeness even, because that was the customary form in which things were done, but I had no real thought about how such a marriage would go. To me, it was to be largely a practical arrangement.

"I am afraid I was a silly man then, in both actions and thought. I was both anxious to please but also eager to have proof of my worth in her acceptance of my hand. I do not believe I knew it at the time, but based upon some actions Mr. Bennet took, or rather did not taken when I was a lad, I also believe that part of my desire to wed her was because I wanted to prove myself worthy of my inheritance and take away from her father the daughter that he held most dear. I also desired to have those who were his responsibility have to turn to me for relief from the worry of what the future might provide."

I wished to be honest, even though this honesty was not flattering to me. I have long understood that men do not wish to share their concerns with someone who cannot acknowledge his own flaws. I dare to think I have more true humbleness now than I did before. I explained, "I did not have much confidence when it came to dealings with the gentler sex. I knew that as a clergyman I ought to marry, to set an example for the parish, but I did not see how anyone might wish to marry me, save for the fact that I had a steady income and expectations of one day, perhaps, owning an estate. I believe I was confident in the fact that as it was Longbourn, that surely one of my cousins would wish to marry me. But Elizabeth . . . "

"Did not marry you," Mr. Bingley finished for me. "What caused you to propose to Miss, was it Lucas?" I nodded in acknowledgment. "Miss Lucas instead of Miss Elizabeth?"

"Well . . ." even now I still found the whole matter embarrassing although many years ago I realized that all had turned out as it ought. "You see, I asked my cousin, and she refused. I . . . I am afraid I did not believe her at first, for Lady Catherine had been so certain that any of my cousins would be eager to marry me and keep her home forever. I . . . I refused to believe her refusal, and Mrs. Bennet was quite certain that Mr. Bennet would get the matter straightened out. But when he did not . . . . Well, I felt hurt and angry. Mr. Bennet had failed me before and once again he would not take my side. I am afraid I turned to Miss Lucas with a spirit of bitterness.

"Miss Lucas had been friendly to me at your ball and was kind to me in the immediate aftermath of the whole debacle and I did not want to return to see Lady Catherine without having secured the hand of someone.

"Too, I am convinced that I wanted to punish the Bennets for the lack of respect shown to me. Mrs. Bennet had made some hints that her next youngest daughter, Miss Mary, would be willing to have me. But although pretty, she was the least lovely of the daughters. I did not want one whom others would not desire. I had too much pride for that. Although I would not have believed it of myself at the time, I believe I had a desire to revenge myself on the Bennets, rather than go on down the line of sisters and try again. I had some very ungenerous thoughts about how I would turn them all out of Longbourn before Mr. Bennet's body had even been buried.

"As for Miss Lucas, my Charlotte, in reflecting on the matter, I am almost certain that once she knew that Miss Elizabeth had rejected me, she set her sights on me (although of course at the time I did not see things that way). I ate dinner with her family, and later in coming to call she met me in the lane, did all she could politely do to encourage me, and now confident of my success, I proposed. I am embarrassed to say that it was only a couple of days after I had proposed to Cousin Elizabeth."

"And yet, from such an inauspicious beginning, you appear to have found true happiness," Mr. Bingley commented.

"Even so. I have been blessed beyond measure, but things were not so easy at the beginning. For it was on our carriage ride back to the parsonage after our wedding that I began to suspect that the new Mrs. Collins had no true regard for me, that she had married me purely as a matter of disinterested practicality. I recall sitting beside her on the seat of our rented carriage, so nervous, feeling myself sweat. For we were married now, and I had no idea of how to be a husband or how to woo her into a deeper regard for me.

"When we arrived to her new home, Charlotte seemed pleased with the parsonage, in truth much more pleased with it than me. I knew I had certain rights as her husband, but I did not want the marital bed to be simply something she endured out of duty, to feel in this that I was imposing upon her. However, in seeking to follow the instructions Lady Catherine gave us both," I hoped he would not ask what those were precisely, "my patroness was of much use to us, and in following them we were able to begin along the road to have a deeper regard for the other, and eventually this became love. But this would not have been possible, I think, had Charlotte not been open to the possibility of more between us." I fell silent then and waited.

"I thought I had everything when I married Jane," Mr. Bingley responded. He was turned away from me, walking along the wall in front of me, testing every stone along the top of the wall to see if it might be loose. "But things were not as they seemed. I thought we felt the same way about the other, but I heard what I wanted to hear, saw what I wanted to see, did not understand how my choices had hurt her. I want to make things right, but I do not know what to do. The wall of our marriage appeared to be tight, but it was not."

"Have you talked about these matters with her?" I asked.

"We did not for almost our entire marriage, but we have started to talk more openly in the past several months. Yesterday she shared with me that she was not ready to marry me when I returned to her and proposed, that she did not trust me then because I had abandoned her for months. And then I broke her trust further. I think I understand her better, but I cannot undo the past. I am not sure if we have any chance for true happiness anymore."

"Real love is hard," I told Mr. Bingley. "It requires sacrifice and self-denial. Real love is how Jesus gave himself up, even to death, in service to the church, to redeem others. To put someone else first is something that most of us cannot do. Love is an action first, before an emotion.

"All too often, people ask me for advice in mending relationships, but their actual desire is to justify their actions and reaffirm for them that the other person is at fault. Sometimes they wish for me to go tell the other person that, which is something I truly will not do. For in hearing from only the one party, at best I only have half of the story and even those who wish to be fair to the other, cannot help but see things from their own point of view. If this be not merely idle talk and you wish for my help, I cannot help you change Mrs. Bingley, I can only help you to change you. She might change in response to how you change, but she might not."

As I spoke, I noted him stiffening, but as his face was turned away from me as he was still facing the wall, I did not know how he was reacting in truth. I wondered if Mr. Bingley would deny that he was seeking my advice, might leave right then as two weeks earlier another parishioner of mine had done. He did not. Instead, he slowly pivoted.

Then he asked me something I did not in truth expect. He asked, "Will you help me learn to be a better husband?"

"I can try, but besides my advice, all the work will be on your part and not mine."

"If you knew what I had done . . . " Mr. Bingley pivoted away again, and leaned on the wall, looking at the field beyond my garden. "I don't know how to get her to forgive me. You see, Jane felt she had to marry me, for the sake of her family but in the end with her sister marrying Darcy, I was not needed after all. But, still, I think she expected to be happy with her choice, that her regard for me would grow, but then . . . then . . . I was not the man she deserved."

I considered what he had said and what he hadn't said. It seemed to me that the Bingley's marriage had been like a plum tree which in early spring puts forth flowers perhaps before it should, and then when a hard freeze comes, most of the flowers die and the harvest is either entirely missing or severely deficient. But so long as the tree has not been killed, another spring will come and it may well bear good fruit again, perhaps even more abundantly for not having been able to do so the previous year.

"You may tell me of it, if you wish to, but all fall short of Him. The past cannot be changed. If repentance must still be sought, you must seek it from the Lord and it will freely be given. Tell me, have you truly tried to understand your wife's perspective, sought to serve her? Not for the purpose of getting what you want, for that is the selfish trap that we all too frequently are ensnared by, but to truly understand her, to be a better husband to her?"

"I have sought to be a better husband but it has only helped somewhat. I think I probably have been a bit selfish in my effort and have also consumed much time in feeling sorry for myself."

I had a choice to make then. Mr. Collins would have flattered him, excused him of any blame as a great man who was privileged to do whatever he might wish based upon his consequence (which would naturally be below someone related to nobility, but would still be far above himself). However, I did not see how that would serve anything, so I resolved to share with him hard truths, trusting that He would guide my words and help me to assist Mr. Bingley to a better understanding of himself.

"Mr. Bingley, you have always struck me as a somewhat indolent man, invariably friendly and accommodating but one who is happy enough to let others put in the hard work. Tell me, how much involvement do you have with your own estate?"

I saw a flicker of confusion upon his face, but he answered me nevertheless. "I have a steward and have left most things to him. He seems to do well and I believe my fortune has not decreased under his management."

"And tell me, do you think your wife is happy to let her fate, and the fate of your son rest with Mr. Seems To Do Well? Will your son learn his duty from Mr. Seems to Do Well or will he hire Mr. Cheating the Estate and find his birth right has dissipated after you are gone? In truth, when an estate is diligently managed, most years should see an increase in returns. Tell me, do you think that Mr. Darcy depends upon his steward to do everything or does he work hard every day? I suggest you make some effort to be the husband and father your family deserves in taking up the mantle of your true responsibilities.

"And regarding your wife, if it all went wrong in the beginning, well then you must start at the beginning again. Court her, woo her, get to know her and let her get to know you, and that she can always count on you. She will need extra proof of the later as that was where you failed her before in departing when she had expectations of you. Although I do not need to know what you did later, I suspect whatever it was, it was something that made her doubt your constancy."

At this point, I half expected Mr. Bingley to turn tail and be off. But he did not do that. Instead he nodded, seemingly thoughtfully and then asked, "But what if at the end of all of this, Mrs. Bingley still only tolerates me, wishes our marriage could be undone?"

"As I said before, you can only control your own actions and not her. If in the end nothing changes, you will know that you have done all you could. But I do not think that Mrs. Bingley's heart is so hard. And as for her wishing it undone, I have seen how much she loves your children. Without you, she would not have them. Besides caring for the estate, make sure you care for them as a father should. That should be the easy part and you should do that for their sake. But I have never seen a mother whose heart is not touched by seeing how another dotes upon her children."

Mr. Bingley thanked me and then we talked about other things, but a thoughtful expression remained upon his face through the entirety of our subsequent conversation. Then before he left me, he asked, "May I have your help again later, should I need it?"

"Of course. You may not be my parishioner, but will always have a listening ear for you, for anyone who wants it."

I did not see the Bingleys again for perhaps two months, for I recall that the pumpkin seeds that I had planted with my children's "assistance" had mostly gained their first two real leaves. As I did every year, I made planting and growing the pumpkin plants a project for the children. Cathy was long past the age when she had worried about the seeds being scared to be in the earth. Instead, she was now the know-it-all authoritative older sister who was too prim and proper to dirty her hands in the dirt. Instead, she tried to tell everyone else what to do.

Billy kept getting angry with Cathy, insisting "I know what to do; I remember it all from last year." Anne ignored Cathy's directions and was having much enjoyment of simply digging in the dirt (the seeds forgotten in the pleasure of that task) and I knew our laundress would have much work trying to get the dirt out of her skirts (for not only was she kneeling in the dirt, but she was also cleaning her hands on her skirts). As for Walt, he had no interest in planting seeds but was instead determined to try to make it into the nearby lane and I was constantly having to retrieve him and finally had to take him back inside to stay with his mother and little brother Zeke.

When I saw the Bingleys, it was at a dinner the Darcys were giving. The Bingleys were present along with Lady Catherine and Mr. Bennet, and three neighboring couples including a Mr. and Mrs. Downing, and Mr. Churchill. I tried to see how the Bingleys were getting on, and was pleased to see that Mr. Bingley seemed to be most solicitous of his wife, and she shared an appreciative smile with him when he filled her plate. Although I was too far away to hear their conversation, they seemed to converse more with each other than with the other guests and once, once I saw Mrs. Bingley place her hand on her husband's arm. Everything I observed seemed most promising.

Well satisfied, I turned back to speaking with my wife and Lady Catherine. However, my attention strayed when they began speaking about the upcoming ball that the Darcys were hosting in a few weeks time. The ball had finally been rescheduled from four months back when a bad illness had run through Pemberley (as it had through much of Derbyshire). However, it proved to have few fatalities and none at all at Pemberley, save for the father of Mrs. Reynolds who was likely well into his eighth decade.

I would of course attend if that was what my wife desired, but I had no desire to hear all the details regarding the decorations, whether Lady Catherine would have a new gown for the occasion and which musicians might be hired from London. Instead, I found myself more interested in observing what was occurring a few seats down from me.

Miss Darcy was seated next to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, and perhaps because the Bingleys were well occupied with each other, she was conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Downing and Mr. Churchill, with Mr. Bennet who was beyond Mr. Churchill, occasionally making a comment. The other two couples were near the middle of the table and the men and women of each couple conversing with each other, while the rest of us at the other end were having a conversation of our own.

Although I was too far away to hear more than occasional phrases from the conversation at the far end of the table (and only when the two other couples fell silent for a few moments, which was not often as the men were having an animated conversation about horses and the women were talking about fashion), I noticed that when it was Mrs. Downing speaking with Miss Darcy, Mr. Churchill's eyes often strayed to looking (perhaps even staring) at Miss Darcy. However, when she fell silent, Mr. Churchill would turn and say something to Mr. Downing or Mr. Bennet. Then it would be time for Georgiana to steal little glances at Mr. Churchill. If I was not mistaken, there was some attraction, at the very least, between Mr. Churchill and Miss Darcy.

I turned to Mrs. Collins and said to her, without any prelude and in a quiet tone, unmindful of the fact that I was interrupting a long discourse on which candles would be most suitable for the ball, Lady Catherine having the most decided opinions and being in the middle of a long discourse on the subject, "Have you noticed how Mr. Churchill looks at Miss Darcy?"

Perhaps I spoke a bit too loudly for Mrs. Darcy who was on the other side of Charlotte answered me, "I have been observing that very thing."

I am afraid, then, that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, Lady Catherine, Mrs. Collins and I all halted our ongoing discourse in favor of looking down the table. Georgiana seemed to note our attention, for she blushed, and Mrs. Darcy then observed in a hissed whisper, "We cannot all be staring at them, look away, look away."

Lady Catherine did so and said, with a sniff, in a half whisper "I suppose Mr. Churchill might be good enough for Georgiana. Certainly she would make him a fine bride. But while he comes from a noble line, what has he accomplished on his own?"

"He is a diligent manager of his rented estate," Mr. Darcy noted. "He has increased the profits and the tenants speak well of him." Given Mr. Darcy's concern with the land, this amounted to a clear endorsement of Mr. Churchill. However, he then added, "And I would forgive him much if he can make her happy, would buy that estate and would keep her here near Pemberley."

"Do you think he has any true interest in her?" Mrs. Darcy inquired softly, seemingly to our half of the table at large. "While when he first moved the the neighborhood I believed they might make a fine match, since then I have rarely seen them speak to one another before tonight."

Mr. Darcy said, directing his words to his wife, "They certainly had a lively conversation the last time we all had dinner together at the Bingleys, not at the dinner but afterwards." He considered and then added, "Although you may not have observed it, for I believe you went with Mrs. Collins to see her children in the nursery.

"Too, I have noted that even before this night, that when in company together he seems to carefully attend to her conversation, and stares at her a great deal. But when she looks his way, his face takes on a rather somber mien. I imagine the look upon his face then is like to mine when I was trying to hide my interest in you, my dear."

"You certainly did stare at me rather a lot," Mrs. Darcy noted, touching her husband's arm in an affectionate manner and giving him a gentle smile. "Of course at the time I thought you were staring at me to find fault." She glanced back at Georgiana and Mr. Churchill. "However, from what I see now, Mr. Churchill's expression is rather more pleasant."

"From what Bingley has told me," her husband rejoined, "Mr. Churchill was crossed in love not long before he retreated to our hamlet, but has expressed some cautious interest in Georgiana."

"Why have you not told me of this?" Mrs. Darcy asked.

"I did not want you to try to help them along. Certainly it is something they must sort out for themselves."

"Do you think I would act with so little subtlety, try to make the match come to be through the power of my words alone like my mother?" Mrs. Darcy asked.

"Certainly not," said he. "But if it is to be, he must decide to pursue her. It would be better if he believes it be to entirely his own decision."

"But still," my Charlotte responded before Mrs. Darcy could, "can we not at the very least showcase Georgiana so he can see what a prize she is? I have long thought that if she could but play the harp for him that it might very well help him along."

"Georgiana tends to be rather shy about exhibiting, especially with the harp," Mrs. Darcy responded. "Still, I will ask her tonight if she might do so."

"Does Georgiana even favor him?" Lady Catherine asked. "She certainly has not confided in me."

"She asked that I invite him to dinner," Mr. Darcy responded. "I do not think her wholly indifferent to him."

"Two weeks ago, Georgiana asked that I make sure he was invited to the ball," Mrs. Darcy responded. "He was already on the guest list of course. And I have already received his acceptance."

"She will have a new gown for the ball, will she not?" Lady Catherine asked. "Certainly she must look her best then."

"Yes, she has ordered one," Mrs. Darcy noted. "It is most becoming. I think her dance card will certainly be filled quickly. I only hope for her sake that Mr. Churchill shall solicit her hand for a dance before none are left."

Soon enough the conversation turned to other matters. But I observed with interest that after dinner Georgiana played the harp. Rather than watching her performance, I watched the other's reaction to it. Mr. Churchill's whole attention was directed to the performer, while Mr. and Mrs. Bingley sat next to each other and held hands.