Chapter Eleven: Another Change of Scene

The arrival of Jane and Elizabeth's family was as loud and boisterous as could be expected—they were all only to stay a few hours, for Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's house was not large enough to accommodate them all overnight. Lydia had many tales of officers and officers' wives to tell her sisters; and so she gave long, tedious speeches on them all, with additional commentary from Kitty. Her mother, on the other hand, could not speak enough of the amiable Mr. Collins and his new wife; it was all praise, all exuberant joyfulness. Mr. Bennet was perhaps the quietest of the added party; he was truly happy to see his two eldest daughters again, and could perhaps appreciate the company of his brother and sister-in-law more than the others.

"It is such a pity that we are all to go to Kent! My dear friend Mrs. Forster declared it to be so, and she was excessively sorry to have us go. 'I beg you will not go,' she said to me when Kitty and me came to take our leave; 'Do stay and keep me company.' But la! It could not be, for we must be in the tiresome company of Mary and Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Lord, how I should dread it. But Papa said that I have no choice, and Mama would not hear of our not seeing Mary," said Lydia.

"And Mr. Wickham was sorry, too," added Kitty.

"Oh yes! Mr. Wickham! Lizzy, I have some dreadful news about Mr. Wickham. He is engaged—and I know you will never guess with who—but he is engaged to a Miss King! I know; it is an outrage; she is such an ugly, freckled little thing. I haven't the faintest idea why on earth he would want anything to do with such a girl. But I'm sure if you would have stayed at home, Lizzy, he would have infinitely preferred you. You were such a favorite of his, I dare say!"

"But she has just inherited a fortune of ten thousand pounds," pointed out Kitty.

"Well then, Lydia, I think you will find that beauty and good humor are not the only virtues," said Mrs. Gardiner.

Elizabeth was rather surprised with news of Mr. Wickham's engagement; but the more she thought about it, the less surprised she felt she ought to feel. He had almost no consequence, and could surely not afford to marry a girl of little to no fortune; handsome young men needed something to live on, as well as the plain. And she had never been in love with him—no—she could be perfectly happy, and even be indifferent towards Miss King. Although her youngest sister expected her to be deeply affected, she effectively ended the conversation of Mr. Wickham and his new fiancée with a few comments of that she wished them very well, and was not the least bit upset.

They were to have a bit of lunch before the Bennets all departed for Hunsford Parsonage in Kent; and the lunch went by much more quickly than either Jane or Elizabeth would have liked. But it was time to go; and, with a hasty kiss for each of the children and an affectionate adieu to their aunt and uncle, all of the Bennets were soon off.

"Well," said Jane, staring out of the carriage at the fields that they passed by, "I should be very happy to see Mary again."

"It has been quite longer than it seems since we have seen her—not since early December. Well, I am sure that Mr. Collins is not changed," said Elizabeth, as equally detached from the conversation as her elder sister was.

"I should like to think it would be a good thing to find Mr. Collins unchanged."

"Not I; he left Longbourn as audacious as ever."

"But he is not a bad man—not violent, certainly—and always well-meaning, and chatty."

"Chatty is not the appropriate word; conversation is not so much to his liking as long monologues are."

"Call him what you like; I shall think him to be chatty. We must like him better, you know, for he is our brother now."

Their conversation then dissipated, and they fully engaged themselves in their own reveries. Elizabeth was imagining what Lady Catherine might be like; how she would look, what she would say—but more to her interest yet was her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh. She was to be Mr. Darcy's bride, and it would be interesting to see what sort of girl she was. Surely she could not be entirely sensible—for who in their senses would agree to an engagement with Mr. Darcy? Perhaps she was like Miss Bingley; perhaps that was the sort of women that he attracted.

She smiled as she thought of the folly of Mr. Collins; perhaps his society did leave something wanting, but she could at least amuse herself with his caprice, as her father would undoubtedly be doing. It would certainly be nothing like London; none of the friendly people that her aunt and uncle were acquainted with; but she imagined that she might still prefer it to being at Longbourn, with only news of officers and monthly balls to entertain her.

The journey was not half so long as it would have been had Elizabeth departed from Hertfordshire, though it was ample time for Jane to have fallen asleep; and when she could distinguish what seemed to be the outskirts of Rosings Park, she hastily awoke her sister.

"Well! How lovely it does look!" said Jane, once she had woken up long enough to focus her eyes on the sights to be seen outside of the carriage.

"I think I should like to take walks about it very much," commented Elizabeth, her eyes fixed on the pleasant landscape before them. Jane agreed, though Elizabeth imagined that most of her walks would be taken alone; not that she minded the solitude, for she had a great love for solitary walks; but Jane was not so used to the exercise, so her sister would not be able to walk so much.

They watched eagerly for the first sights of the parsonage; and, at length, it did appear. It was a charming little cottage, with a thatched roof and ivy growing about its front, and a sweet little garden which Elizabeth could perceive a bit of from the back, with a gravel walk which led to the front door. Upon hearing the sound of the carriages approaching, Mr. and Mrs. Collins set out from the house, smiling like anything and waving to their family, looking, at first glance, to be the very picture of conjugal felicity. All were pleased to be upon the parsonage; for they were all tired of sitting, and were curious to see how Mr. Collins and Mary got on.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" announced Mr. Collins merrily as he and his wife rushed to greet their guests. Their salutations were not terribly affectionate, though Mrs. Bennet did take care to give her good girl Mary a warm embrace, and was praising Mr. Collins beyond what he deserved.

Mary seemed very much like she was when she was first engaged to Mr. Collins; she spoke warmly of him and his merits, and with great pride accompanied them on their tour of the house, pointing out how well Mr. Collins and she maintained their little home. They then set out to the garden, as Mary explained he worked in it quite constantly; and none could doubt that it was very nice. Husband and wife were both intimate with their surroundings; they could name the number of trees in the most distant clump, and recounted with animation any anecdotes that a particular shrub reminded them of.

The Bennets then seated themselves inside, fatigued from their journey, though their hosts were still eager to entertain. The pianoforte was opened, and Mary eagerly approached it, like a moth to a flame, and was soon playing away just as she did when she was at Longbourn. Her taste had shown no signs of improvement, and her execution as impeccable as always. Mr. Collins was consistently complimenting her all the way through, which did prevent their hearing each song very clearly.

"Well, Mr. Collins has not disappointed me," whispered Mr. Bennet into Elizabeth's ear, which procured a broad smile from the latter.

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," said Mr. Collins as they had all sat down to dinner, with such a warmth in the tone of his voice as he said her name that, from an outsider's perspective, he could have been believed to be a lover, "is so condescending, so very good to us, that she is to have us all dine at Rosings tomorrow! How attentive, how affable is this? She has a great desire to meet all of my fair sisters, and mother and father, and I have not a doubt that she will be excessively pleased with you all."

"Oh yes!" added his faithful companion, "We are so very grateful to her. Such attention was completely unnecessary, yet Lady Catherine never fails to be all that is accommodating."

"Very true, my dear Mrs. Collins; very true! I'll have you all know that we dine at Rosings two times a week!"

"And very likely more, now that you are all here."

"Is it so?" asked Mr. Bennet good-humoredly, "Well I declare that Lady Catherine must be very obliging indeed to be so eager to meet with some very silly girls."

"Mr. Bennet!" scolded his wife; "How can you say such things? Lady Catherine, I have no doubt, is extremely sensible, and will not fail to gain our approbation. Is it not so, good Mary?"

"Aye, Mama, it—"

However, Mr. Collins could resist no opportunity to offer praise of Lady Catherine, and quickly interrupted,

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh is the most sensible, best patroness! If anything has been done less than sensible, I assure you she has never had anything to do with it; and dare I stress her great condescension in wanting to meet with you all so very soon?"

Lydia and Kitty began to laugh at this, as the conversation exceeded even their own degree of silliness, and Jane was obliged to keep them quiet. But so did the rest of the evening pass; with most topics with Lady Catherine at its center, proving Mr. Collins to have lost absolutely none of his ridiculousness. Mr. Bennet was extremely diverted by it; Elizabeth, barely less so; Jane was determined to be pleased, so she was; Kitty and Lydia, uncharacteristically, spoke very little, though they were probably mourning over the loss of the society of officers; and Mrs. Bennet was in such raptures that she had very little time to spare for something like thought.

"Enjoying Kent?" asked Elizabeth smilingly when she and Jane had retired to their bedchamber.

"I am; this is a very charming house, and Mr. Collins is very—enthusiastic. Well, dear Mary is quite happy," responded Jane, choosing her words carefully.

"Enthusiastic! Yes, that he is. It will be interesting to see how he behaves in front of the Lady herself."

"She must be extremely gratified by how highly he reveres her."

"I am sure that she receives enough gratification from everyone! I dare not attempt to conjecture at her amount of vanity."

"I cannot believe that she can be anything so bad. If she was, why would Mr. Collins and Mary both be so pleased with her?"

"Well, she is without a doubt an obliging patroness, and I am sure that that would make them blind to any of her faults."

"We shall see tomorrow, Lizzy!"

"And I shall bet you five shillings that Mr. Collins will shed a tear when we come upon Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself."

They then took an opportunity to share a laugh, before finally resolving that it was very late, and that they had better get their rest, for they would certainly need all of the energy that they could spare in order to prepare themselves for Lady Catherine.