Chapter Two: Mr. Collins' Bride

The sun was high in the sky, and the day was as pleasant as November days could be. Elizabeth was taking her usual daily walk around the village, admiring the various views which she had seen countless times, and hoping that her mother had forgotten about calling on Mr. Darcy. She recalled the inattention that she had received from Mr. Collins at breakfast, which she could only look on with pleasure. All expectation of her marrying him was now out of the question, and she had never been happier with a lie than ever before. She flattered herself by thinking that she had acted very cleverly; however, her happy reverie was interrupted by crossing paths with her youngest sister, Lydia.

"Lord, Lizzy! I should die of embarrassment, shouldn't you?" she exclaimed upon catching her sister's eye. Elizabeth could not guess what she was alluding to, and asked,

"What has happened that is so embarrassing?"

"Have you not heard? Mr. Collins has made an offer to, of all people, Mary! And—I know you will never believe it, but it is true—she has accepted him! I suppose they will do each other well, since they are both very dull. But to think that she should be married before all the rest of us! I blush at the very thought of it, don't you, Lizzy? Kitty and me were talking, and saying how very shameful it is that neither of us should be married first, since we try the hardest after all."

Elizabeth smiled at this proclamation; she could not help but pity Mary, but supposed that her sister's disposition was better suited for his than hers would have been. She supposed that the attachment on either side could not be very deep; and though she wished that she could think as well of the situation as Jane probably did, she still felt a little sorry that she had indirectly caused Mr. Collins' proposal.

"Is that so? Well, I—"

"Do you not find it all very diverting, Lizzy?" interrupted Lydia, not paying the slightest bit of attention to her sister, and rather looking off in some other direction as if observing a spectacle.

"Very diverting," replied Elizabeth unconvincingly, and then turned around to see what it was Lydia was looking at, to see that Mr. Collins and Mary were walking down the lane, arm-in-arm, apparently in deep conversation. They were passed by a lady in a blue cloak, who seemed to be approaching the house, and when she came close enough that her features could be defined, Elizabeth instantly recognized her as her good friend Charlotte Lucas.

"Charlotte!" cried Elizabeth, leaving her youngest sister to observe Mr. Collins and Mary alone and running up to Charlotte to embrace her.

"My dear Eliza! Dare I ask why it is that Mary is being so—intimate—with your cousin?" responded Charlotte, looking sideways at the two in question. Overhearing it all, Lydia could not help but announce the news herself, since it gave her great pleasure to do so.

"They are engaged, Charlotte! Who would have thought? Why, I just told Lizzy now, and I dare say she was very surprised. You should have seen the expression on her face! You would have thought she expected Mr. Collins to be in love with her. Oh, but they will do each other very well; I imagine that they'll sit in their bookroom all day and read."

Charlotte smiled, though Elizabeth sensed that it was insincere. Elizabeth immediately dismissed any ridiculous idea of Mr. Collins being in love with her, or vice versa; and she then showed her guest into the house, where they called for some tea and seated themselves in the drawing room.

"So," began Charlotte, lifting her teacup from its saucer, "your sister is to be married to Mr. Collins?"

"I believe so, unless Lydia has lied to me," said Elizabeth, eyeing her friend. It did not seem that she spoke with indifference, and looked almost pained. "You seem troubled, Charlotte. Is something the matter?"

With another, forced smile, Charlotte replied, "Not at all. I could ask the same about you; you are not quite yourself, are not you?"

"If you suppose that I was in love with Mr. Collins, Charlotte, you are mistaken. Lydia is quite silly. But I will not share my secrets if you do not share yours."

"Ah! You know me too well, Eliza! Well, I suppose I must tell you now: I had thought that Mr. Collins intended to propose to me."

"To you, Charlotte? What on earth would make you think such a thing?—Excuse me—I mean, that I never noticed him singling you out."

"Oh, think no more of it. It is not important, and I was not in love with him. I shall die an old maid after all, but I suppose it will be no great surprise to my family. I have little hope of finding a husband, you know, at seven and twenty."

"You and I both!" added Elizabeth, and she and her friend shared a laugh, though it was slightly uneasy; as much as both would have liked to admit that they did not need husbands, the truth was that they both wanted one eventually, though the latter sooner than the former.

"Now, Eliza, it is your turn," said Charlotte.

"Mine is of no great matter either. It is only that, last night, my mother informed me that Mr. Collins did intend to propose to me. Of course, you also know my disposition well enough to realize that it would be impossible to accept him. So I—well—persuaded my mother otherwise. So I feel that there can be no real attachment at least on the gentleman's side, and do not wish my sister to be unhappy."

"Surely Mary had thought over the possibility thoroughly, since I imagine that she does quite a lot of thinking; she would not have accepted him if it would have made her unhappy. He is a respectable man, with a parsonage of no mean size in Kent. Be happy for her!"

"You are right, of course. Now, shall we play some cards?"

Charlotte agreed, and they opened up the card table; and the remainder of her friend's visit consisted of talking of indifferent matters, and they parted considerably happy. Elizabeth could not help but feel the perverseness of it all—that Mr. Collins had intended to propose to Elizabeth, though he had been especially attentive to her friend, and actually proposed to Mary. But it was all done with now, and she could do no more than impatiently wait for Jane and her mother to return from Meryton.