Elizabeth spent much of the rest of the day avoiding Mr. Bingley. He did excuse himself at one point to see about his lease. Thankfully, any problems with the tenants that would cost more than ten pounds to fix were the financial responsibility of the owner. The rest of the time he was like a puppy, following her around anytime she was not shut away in her or her sister's chambers. During that day and the next, Kitty began to tease Elizabeth about her admirer, or admirers as she imagined.
"Mr. Darcy is always looking at you too, Lizzy," said her sister. "I think he likes you."
"Stuff and nonsense." Lizzy refused to believe that the man who had only recently disdained everyone in the area had suddenly developed a fondness for her. "You are too kind of a sister. You are imagining things because you wish me to be well matched like our sisters."
"You have your pick of suitors," pointed out Kitty. "Mr. Goulding, Mr. Wagner, and now Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth grimaced at the reminder of the two former gentlemen. The Mr. Goulding that admired her was the elder, not the younger. She might not have minded if it had been his son of three-and-twenty who fancied her, but his father was certainly not someone she could consider as a husband. Mr. Wagner was kind enough and only a few years older than her, but he was a dandy. He often boasted of his new carriage and its powerful horses, and of the high-society friends he had made. She had no delusions about her attraction to him. He wished to marry her because her brother would someday become an earl.
As for the latter two gentlemen, Mr. Bingley certainly was showing his interest. It had become ever more obvious during their stay at Netherfield. Mr. Darcy obviously disapproved of the match, for he often looked sour when he watched them interact. That, she supposed, accounted towards his gaze being often turned towards her. He was assessing her suitability as a bride for his friend. If only she could send the message to either gentleman that she had no interest in becoming Mrs. Bingley.
Miss Bingley had actually warmed towards Kitty and Elizabeth. Perhaps it had been the time she had spent with Mrs. Bennet that endeared them to her. It had seemed that the pair had enjoyed their outing together. Despite being initially reluctant, it seemed that Mrs. Bennet had impressed on Miss Bingley that any gentleman with a large estate would expect his wife to have a keen interest in his tenants. Mr. Darcy might often have a housekeeper care for that task, but that was only because his sister was so young. Mrs. Bennet had told her daughters that she had not told Miss Bingley this so bluntly, but the message was clear; if she ever wished to catch Mr. Darcy, she could not pass on this duty to another.
Mr. Darcy as well had been warmer in general. When Elizabeth was not with Mr. Bingley, he would speak to her of books and music, travelling and staying at home, and found that they even had some common acquaintances.
"How did you become acquainted with Lord Chester?" he asked when she mentioned the gentleman when they were discussing opera. She had been visiting Jane when they had been invited to join Lord and Lady Chester for the outing. Elizabeth told Mr. Darcy as much.
"Oh?" Mr. Darcy's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. "Might I know your brother and sister? What are their names?"
"Lord and Lady Wallingford," replied Elizabeth. She had not meant to tell anyone at Netherfield of her connexion to the nobility, but she would not avoid answering the direct question.
Darcy was even more surprised. He knew Lord Wallingford and asked Miss Bennet if she would give his regards when next she wrote to her brother. "I had heard he had married, and of his removal from the ton that predated it, but I did not have his direction after he left his father's house."
Elizabeth stiffened. The incident that had caused the falling out between her brother and his father was ugly. It was not usual for an heir to be cut off in such a way. The earl had become irrationally angry at both his daughter and son for her actions and his defence of her. Chris had never been his father's favourite, despite being the heir. It had seemed to her brother that his father had been looking for a reason to cast him aside. It likely rankled that he could not take away the title as well. Everything that was not entailed would be passed to his younger brother.
Mr. Darcy seemed to sense her discomfort and quickly hastened to assure her that he only wished to give his congratulations.
"If you remain at Netherfield for Christmas, you will meet them. They always come here to celebrate with us," she said, forcing herself to sound cheerful.
"Unfortunately," said Mr. Darcy, "I do not know if that will be possible. I usually go the town to see my sister for the holidays."
"Of course," said Elizabeth. She could not think of anything else to say, so she let a silence fall between them that lasted until they were called to dinner.
On Sunday, Elizabeth and Kitty returned home with their parents after church, as they had planned. Kitty was decidedly better by then. They probably could have left on Saturday, but they had promised Mr. Bingley that they would remain until Sunday.
"He is looking at you again," whispered Kitty to Elizabeth.
"I never thought I would have to tell you to pay attention to the church services." Elizabeth had no wish to discuss the Netherfield gentleman at all, and much less to discuss them in church.
"Now both of them are looking at you."
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, sending up a silent prayer for the Lord's help in resisting the temptation to strangle her sister. She had to remind herself that, although Kitty often seemed older due to the amount of time she spent with herself and Mary, she was only seventeen. Her pious attitude was a reflection of Mary's influence, but truly Kitty was often a bit silly when it came to gentlemen. Thankfully, Kitty was not yet interested in wedlock. It would be a trial when she decided she was.
"They ought to be paying attention, just as you ought to be," she whispered back.
Kitty seemed to give in, for she said nothing else for the rest of the service.
On the carriage ride home, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet informed their daughters that the following day they would have a visitor come to stay with them. They would have told them sooner, but it had slipped Mrs. Bennet's mind while at Netherfield.
"Who is it?" asked Kitty.
"It is my cousin, Mr. Collins," said Mr. Bennet.
"Mr. Collins?" asked Elizabeth. "Is he not your heir?"
"He is. He wrote a letter about a month ago asking if he might visit, and I responded saying he might. Apparently, he wishes to make amends and heal the breach between the two halves of the family." Mr. Bennet looked at his wife with a raised eyebrow, wondering if they ought to warn their daughters of the absurdness of the man's letter. She said nothing, so he did not either.
"That speaks very well of him," said Kitty with a smile.
"What does he mean by amends?" asked Elizabeth with a wrinkled brow. "It is not his fault that he is the heir. Surely he cannot mean that he would help it if he could."
"No," said Mrs. Bennet, "I do not think that is what he means at all. However, we are hoping he might agree to break the entail for a sum of money."
Both Kitty and Elizabeth gasped aloud at this. All their lives, the entail had hung over their family. If Mr. Collins wished to make amends in such a way, he would be very welcome indeed!
Mr. Bennet then proceeded to tell them a little more of the man, such as his profession, and that he had a living in Kent.
"It does make sense, then," said Elizabeth. "He might be comfortable where he is and might not wish to give up his living and run an estate. A sum of money now would also give him a little more income now, if he invests it wisely."
"That is our thought exactly," said Mr. Bennet with a smile. "But do not mention it to him. I will discuss the possibility with him. To you, he is just a visiting relation."
Elizabeth and Kitty easily agreed. They were curious about the man, but no more of their questions could be answered until the next afternoon.
Mr. Collins had promised to arrive the next day at four o'clock and he was punctual to his time. He was a very square man. His torso was square, as was his face. Even his arms looked rather square. He reminded Elizabeth of a doll that she had once seen in a shop. It had been made of several wooden blocks screwed together with hinges at the joints. His formal manners did not help this effect, as he bent stiffly at the waist when he bowed in greeting to them. He was perhaps only five-and-twenty, but his air was such to make him seem much older.
He had not been seated in their parlour more than five minutes when he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having such fine daughters. Mrs. Bennet thanked him for the compliment, but before she could finish a sentence, he interrupted by saying he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them both in due time disposed of in marriage. Then he inquired if his information had been mistaken, for he had been told there were four daughters, not two.
"We do have four daughters," said Mr. Bennet. "Two are already wed. One lives in town and one is married to our local rector, Mr. Hadley. Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Hadley could not accept our invitation to dine this evening. They had an engagement elsewhere, but you shall meet them soon, I am sure."
Mr. Collins took this opportunity to praise their good sense in marrying one of their daughters to the local clergyman, as if they had been somehow responsible for planning the marriage.
They were soon called to dinner, which saved them from continuing that conversation. By the time the first course was served and they all had eaten enough to make discourse possible, Elizabeth and Kitty were pleased to find that they were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and commendation of everything would been pleasing, if it were not for the mercenary glint in his eye as he seemed to inventory all that he saw. The dinner too in its turn was highly admired, and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing.
"The praise should go to our cook, sir," said Mr. Bennet, his eyes dancing with humour. "I do not know how you would imagine my girls might have made the meal, when they have been with us in the parlour since you arrived."
Mr. Collins begged their pardon for having displeased them, but he was quickly assured that no one was offended. He, nonetheless, found it necessary to apologise for the next quarter-hour.
