The situation came to a head just after dinner. Mr Collins waited until they were settled, evening pursuits taken up before standing before Mrs Bennet. He addressed the mother in these words,

"May I hope, Madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Mary, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her?"

Mrs Bennet assured him that he could and stood immediately to shepherd her daughters before her out of the room. Before she could quit the room, Mary spoke.

"Perhaps Mr Collins, since I believe I am aware of the topic of conversation you wish to raise, we might, in fact, move this discourse to my fathers' study? I assure you he will be grateful to have the matter expediently dealt with."

Mrs Bennet had opened her mouth to interrupt but promptly closed it again, a wary look overcoming her face.

Mr Collins however beamed. "Believe me, my dear Miss Mary, that your suggestion, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would not be less amiable in my eyes had there been a private conversation but allow me to assure you that I have your respected mother's permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse. However your natural delicacy may have led you to disassemble, it is reassuring that you have put this aside and wish to speak in the presence of your most amiable father."

Mary nodded towards Mr Collins, standing, her book placed carefully upon the side table, she raised her chin, straightened her shoulders and crossed the room to the door. Lizzy would later tell her she looked the proudest of French aristocrats approaching the guillotine.

Mr Collins followed her out of the room and down the hall to her father's book room. Mary knocked on the door, and once given leave to enter was met with a face of surprise.

"Mary? Has your mother sent you for something?"

"No Papa, Mr Collins has asked to speak with me, and I thought it beneficial if he did so in front of you."

Mr Bennet raised a questioning brow. "Did you indeed. Very well, proceed."

Mary sat in a chair, her back ramrod stiff, her hands folded correctly in her lap, with a slight gesture she indicated to Mr Collins she was ready to listen. Mr Collins drew himself up and with a nod to Mr Bennet began to speak.

"My attentions have been too marked to be mistaken, almost as soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying - and moreover for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.

My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly - which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford - between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh's foot-stool, that she said, " Mr Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Chuse properly, chuse a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her." Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your modesty I think must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to chuse a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place - which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years.

This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the 4 per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

Mr Collins took the longest pause that he had so far done so, and Mary seized upon it.

"Mr Collins forgive my interruption, but I have yet to give my answer. Let me do so now so that we are both rightly understood. I thank you for graciously forgiving me my meagre portion, and I am sorry to disappoint your hopes, but I cannot accept your offer. A marriage, as you have said, is the joining of two people to enable the felicity of a life shared. Before any couple can work towards fulfilment, they must first stand in the house of God and exchange vows. Truly, Mr Collins, you cannot expect any woman of good sense to honour and obey a husband who did not, in turn, forsake all others. I am unable to believe that you could put aside your patroness in favour of your wife and so I cannot make those vows to you Mr Collins. And it would be a sin indeed to make them knowing I could not honour them."

"I am not now to learn," replied Mr Collins, with a formal wave of the hand. ", it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long. When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me. Though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character."

"My answer shall not change, I cannot think that you can accuse me of such falsehoods, I have never pretended to female delicacy. Indeed, if behaviour such as that is that of delicate females, it assures me that those are not those whose company I should enjoy," Mary stated as firmly as she could.

"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in its favour; and you should take it into farther consideration that in spite of your attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your amiable qualifications. As I must, therefore, conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."

Mary sent a glance over to her father asking for his assistance at Mr Collin's stubbornness. To her surprise, her father had seemingly not ignored the conversation before him as she had thought he might, but had, by his countenance, found the proposal as offensive as she.

"Mr Collins, Mary has given you her answer, I commiserate that you have been unsuccessful in your endeavour. My daughters are free to make their own choices, and in this, she has my support. Desist, sir, before I am forced to remove you."

Mr Collins looked deeply surprised at the speech. "You, sir, cannot fail to see the advantage in my suit. I am assured that I am a favourable match for your daughter. My Patroness-"

"Mr Collins!" Mr Bennet cut him off curtly. "If you so much as think that a lady so wholly unconnected to my family and me shall hold sway over the actions of my daughters then you are sorely mistaken, sir. Mary has given you her answer, she has assured you that it shall not change. I suggest sir that you abstain immediately in this course of action. My daughters will not accept your suit. I suggest you look elsewhere for a bride, perhaps if you are lucky Lady Catherine shall find one for you."

Mr Collins gaped for a moment before executing a short bow and leaving the room without excusing himself. As the door closed behind him, Mary's posture slumped into the chair, and she covered her face with her hands.

"There, there Mary, be easy, he shall not impose on you again. I am hopeful that he shall quit us soon enough and never return."

Mary dropped her hands to observe her father. "You do not think I should have accepted him? Mama was quite insistent that I should."

"If you liked him, Mary, it would be one thing, but the man is a fool, and that was possibly the most offensive way of going about things. I confess that some truths do hurt, but it is no fault of yours and no impediment to a worthy suitor. I shall speak with your mother and make sure that she is aware that the matter is closed. If you would like to retire, I shall send Hill to inform your mother."

"Thank you, I believe I would like to."

Mr Bennet nodded, and as Mary stood, he picked up his book. Mary hesitated, causing her father's gaze to raise from the book in hand.

"Thank you, Papa," Mary said quietly before dipping a curtsey and leaving the room without looking back.

Mr Bennet sat for a moment in contemplation before ringing the bell for Hill.

When neither Mr Collins or Mary returned after a quarter of an hour, Elizabeth started to fret. It did not seem to her that either result should take so long. While Mr Collins was not a man of brevity a quart of an hour seemed a long time to ask what was essentially, a simple question.

Mrs Bennet was smiling while fidgeting in her chair clearly taking the delay as an indicator of good news. Elizabeth was just about to stand and go and find out for herself what was going on when Hill entered. The Housekeeper crossed to Mrs Bennet and quietly informed her that Miss Mary had retired to her room and that Mr Bennet wished to speak with her.

Mrs Bennet squealed in delight before hurrying out of the room. Elizabeth exchanged a concerned glance with Jane before both sisters rose and left the room heading for the stairs.

Elizabeth knocked gently on Mary's door and barely waited for the permission to enter before opening it.

"Mary!" she exclaimed upon seeing her sister sat on her bed weeping. "Whatever is the matter?"

Jane came into the room after Elizabeth, crossed to the bed, instantly enveloping her sister in a hug. Elizabeth secured the door and joined her sisters on the bed.

"It was awful," Mary wept. "Mr Collins was awful, I have never felt so wretched and small."

"What did he say?"

Mary sniffed. "He said that from almost the moment he entered the house he had selected me to be his wife, which was not true as he first chose you, Lizzy. That Lady Catherine had told him to choose from one of us which was why he was here. That he would forgive me my meagre portion and not make demands of Papa that could not be met. Oh, I cannot believe that he was so cruel. He made every attempt to belittle me. I was not going to accept him, but I did not imagine he would be so bad."

"Oh Mary, he is not worth your tears. You will find a lovely young man who values you for exactly who you are."

"When I refused him, he would not accept it. He said that his suit was not unworthy. It was highly desirable and that I would not have another offer. My portion was so small as to remove my amiable qualifications."

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged horrified looks. "He said that in front of Papa?"

"Yes," Mary said miserably. "Papa told him that he had been refused and was not to press me, and he started to argue, but Papa shouted at him to desist. Mr Collins left, and Papa allowed me to come to my room and sent Hill to speak to Mama."

"Oh Mary," Jane said holding her tightly. "You must not dwell on it. Mr Collins is not worthy of any woman if he speaks thusly."

"Mama will be cross that I did not accept him."

"We shall not let her be, you do not deserve such degradation. You have done nothing wrong. Mr Collins has proven that he is not a gentleman and you shall put him out of your mind."

Mary nodded but her tears still fell Jane and Elizabeth comforted her as best they could. A knock came at the door, and Elizabeth stood to answer it blocking the view of the room with her body in case it was their mother.

It was Sarah who held a tray with three gently steaming cups. "The Master bade me bring these up," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Sarah," Elizabeth said opening the door wider allowing the maid entry. Sarah placed the tray down with a quick glance over at the bed, bobbed a curtsey and left.

"Here, it will soothe your throat if nothing else." Elizabeth handed out the cups. Expecting tea, she was surprised to see chocolate. Mary and Jane also expressed their surprise.

"Papa," Elizabeth hazarded. "I suppose Uncle Gardiner has sent it and he has it locked away. We should not say anything, or Lydia will be wild until she has found it and drunk it all."