"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, "that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."
"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in—and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home."
"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger."
Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But Good Lord! How unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got today. Lydia, my love, ring the bell! I must speak to Hill this moment."
"It is not Mr. Bingley," said her husband. "It is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life." This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once. After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained, "About a month ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is my cousin, Mr. Gregory Collins."
"Is he not now your heir since Mr. William Collins has died?" asked Jane.
"Yes. Mr. Gregory Collins is now my heir. When I am dead, he may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."
"Oh! my dear," cried his wife. "I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children, and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."
Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.
"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Bennet, "and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you might be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself."
As everyone was curious about this new heir, even Mrs. Bennet did not object to his reading it.
Norwich House, Leadenhall Street, London
12th October
Dear sir,
Ever since I was informed of Mr. William Collins' death last summer, I have been desirous of writing to you but was unsure of how to proceed. We have not met since I was but a boy, and with your estate entailed upon me, I cannot but feel all the awkwardness of my addressing you.
Still, I believe it my duty, as the future master of Longbourn — May the day I inherit be very far in the future — to learn a little about estate management. I have known nothing but business. Following the passing of my beloved father, I assumed control of the warehouses he owned. Although I am unsure of the extent to which you and he were acquainted, I can guarantee that his profession was of the utmost respectability, with his primary trade, comprising the importing of wine. I have continued in the same manner, and I believe I may flatter myself by saying that I have done very well. Despite this, I would not want to risk the future of your estate, as well as your family and mine, on someone who is totally inexperienced in landownership and the difficulties it may bring.
This being the case, both to unite the two branches of our family and to learn what I might from you and yours, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, if you have no objection. I had thought that November the 18th might be satisfactory. I would arrive around midday. I hope to stay as long as a fortnight, if you are agreeable. Otherwise, pray, tell me what arrangements might be more amenable, and I shall strive to concede to your plans.
I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,
Gregory Collins
"There, Mrs. Bennet," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter, "around midday we shall meet my new heir. He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man."
"Why have we never met him, Papa?" asked Elizabeth. "He lives near to the Gardiners."
"He is but a fourth or fifth cousin, I think. Long ago, the family was divided by a certain matter, and even though his father refused to choose a side, his name seemed to decide for him. His father also often ventured abroad, sampling wines from various parts of the world."
"I am quite curious to hear what tales of adventure he has gained from his travels, for he must have gone on many expeditions, if he fills the same role as his father," said Elizabeth.
"Indeed. It does him credit, too, that he wishes to learn how to be a good master of an estate," said Jane quietly.
"His composition is perhaps lacking in places," said Mary, "but overall, the letter is not defective."
The letter and its author held no interest for either Catherine or Lydia. It was next to impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour.
Mr. Collins arrived before dinner and was greeted warmly by the whole family. He was not a gregarious man, but he was ready enough to converse. He was a stocky man, with a firm build and robust gait. He was around thirty years of age. His face was not unpleasant to behold, yet his features were not those of a traditionally handsome man. His attitude was amiable and assured. His smile was warm and showed a healthy set of teeth, as he smiled frequently, though not as much as Mr. Bingley. He had only just been seated when he complimented Mr. and Mrs. Bennet on the fine family of pleasant daughters they had raised.
"My Jane, in particular, is known as a local beauty. Her visage and charm draw admiration from all," said Mrs. Bennet. She then went on to detail all of Jane's attributes and talents.
Jane blushed bright red upon hearing her mother's comments, due to their inappropriateness and because she didn't appreciate being singled out for more attention than her sisters. Mrs. Bennet soon realised her blunder, as she could not have Mr. Collins' attention on Jane if she wanted one daughter to be the mistress of Netherfield and another the mistress of Longbourn. Therefore, she lauded the many merits of Elizabeth, despite Elizabeth being her least-favoured daughter, she was still attractive in her own way.
Thankfully, it was not long before they were summoned for dinner. After Mrs. Bennet's self-congratulation was then directed towards the food rather than her second daughter. Mr. Collins was a man who enjoyed his food and his wine, but neither to an excess. Elizabeth found this to be a refreshing change, particularly after being in the same house as Mr. Hurst for a few days, who despised her taste for simple fare. Mrs. Bennet felt especially proud when Mr. Collins praised the fish dish, as it had been difficult to source enough fish in such a short period.
During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all, but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his guest. Therefore, Mr. Bennet began a conversation which he thought Mr. Collins would excel in, discussing his business and journeys. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen better. For an hour, they exchanged ideas about the nuances of wine, the conflict occurring on the continent, and the effect the war had on the cost of wine and other products. Mr. Bennet was impressed by his cousin, for he had not thought that a sensible and educated man might come from the Collins side of the family.
After the men had their fill of port, they heard the light chatter of the women from the drawing-room and decided to join them. Mr Collins situated himself near Mary and Elizabeth and enquired of the two sisters regarding their interests. Mary expounded on her enthusiasm for music and reading sermons, specifically those written by Fordyce. Even with his most sincere efforts, Mr. Collins could not manage to make it appear he was genuinely interested in what Mary was saying.
"Mary," said Elizabeth after watching the two converse for some time, "instead of simply telling Mr. Collins about your music, it might be best for you to perform." Mary was unable to decline the chance to exhibit her abilities on the pianoforte, therefore she accepted Elizabeth's proposal and performed a concerto.
"And what of you, Miss Elizabeth? Are you as musical and well-read as your sister?" asked Mr. Collins.
"I do play the pianoforte a little, but I do not practice as much as I ought. As for reading, my interests tend much more towards Miss Maria Edgeworth and Sir Walter Scott than Fordyce."
"Ah, you enjoy a good novel then? Tell me, which of Miss Edgeworth's did you enjoy? I must confess I despised Belinda."
"Now if I say that I liked it, you shall either despise my taste in books or you shall think me attempting to be disagreeable. If I say I despise it as well, you shall not know if I really do, or if I am simply deferring to your opinion. That was most unkind of you, sir."
"I shall not think badly of you, no matter your answer."
"Then I will say that I liked the novel in general, but not the ending."
"You do not like happy endings?" he asked with surprise.
"I do not like forced happy endings. The miracle recovery is a trope far too often used."
"Perhaps that is so," agreed Mr. Collins. "What do you think of her other works? Which is your favourite?"
"Castle Rackrent, I think. It has the advantage of being written by Miss Edgeworth and not so much by her father."
"Indeed, I heard something of that. I often wonder what censure and doubt in women's abilities have kept us from enjoying. Perhaps I might enjoy Miss Edgeworth's books more if they were not edited by her father."
"Perhaps you might. What do you like to read, sir?"
"Unfortunately," said Mr. Collins, "since my father's death, I have very little time to read. I read mostly only when I am able to visit my mother and sister."
"You have a sister, sir? You mentioned nothing of her before."
"I do. She is eleven and lives with my mother and her new husband. She is a lovely child, but I agreed with my mother that the country is a much better place to raise a child than the city."
"He is a gentleman?"
"No, he owns a business in a country town, very like Meryton in fact."
"It would be pleasant to meet them."
"I am glad to hear you say so, for I am quite fond of them. My sister, in particular, is a dear. She sends me letters every week. At first, I think it was an assignment to improve her writing, but now she does it as she enjoys it and also receiving my replies."
"And you reply every week as well?"
"I do. I cannot leave her in doubt of my affection."
"You seem to be just the sort of brother I would have liked to have had. Do not mistake me, I do adore my sisters, but I have always wondered what it would be like to have a brother."
Jane then came near enough to be included in the conversation, and she added her wish to someday be introduced to the rest of Mr. Collins' family. They had an enjoyable remainder of their evening. The ladies retired early, not out of lack of interest but out of consideration for Jane's well-being, since she was still recuperating from a severe cold. Mr. Collins, not yet fatigued, went to the library to engage in a game of backgammon with Mr. Bennet.