"Your long-standing mourning for your father's death ended over three months ago, Mr. Collins." From her 'throne' Lady Catherine looked at him with a cold, accusing stare, "I must remind you that as a man of God and the parson of Hunsford, you are called to marry to set a good example for your parishioners."
He nodded vigorously. "Yes, Lady Catherine. You are always so correct and wise; Do you have any suggestions on what kind of wife I should choose? I do not want to make a mistake regarding such an important decision!"
Lady Catherine nodded slightly in agreement as she considered the young lady's requirements. "You must choose a young lady from a good family; she should be a gentleman's daughter, well-educated and accustomed to living on a modest income. She should also be a devout Christian." She sighed. "Unfortunately, Miss Pope is already engaged; she was the perfect lady for you…"
PPP
Over the next few days, Mr. Collins became increasingly fixated on the young women who lived in and around Hunsford. Sadly, he had concluded that the kind of young women Lady Catherine would consider suitable to be his wife were already engaged. He would have to find a wife elsewhere in the Kingdom. The question was: where could he find a wife of such qualities?
He was absorbed into thinking about the dilemma before him, but suddenly remembered his cousin, Mr. Bennet - whom he had never met but had heard of - had four daughters. A brilliant idea occurred to him. As a devoted Christian, it was the right thing to do. He was convinced Lady Catherine would be impressed with him! He went to Rosings immediately to discuss his plans with his esteemed patroness.
After greeting his patroness and talking about some charities, Mr. Collins enthusiastically said, "… I have been carefully considering your sagacious counsel; it has come to my attention that, as a man devoted to God, it is my duty to extend an olive branch to my family by selecting one of my cousin's four daughters to be my wife. This way, when I inherit his estate, the family would not be homeless or in need of financial assistance."
Lady Catherine nodded slightly. "This is a satisfactory plan, Mr. Collins. But first, you must meet them and make sure they are worthy young women and meet the specific requirements to be your wife."
He nodded vigorously, and Lady Catherine asked, "What is the name of your cousin and the estate?"
"His name is Thomas Bennet, and the estate is called Longbourn. It is located in Hertfordshire."
"Bennet... Longbourn… Hertfordshire... where have I heard those names before?" After several seconds, she remembered that the new Mrs. Darcy's maiden name was Bennet, and she used to live on an estate in Hertfordshire. Spitefully, she exclaimed, "Mr. Collins, how can you possibly align yourself with such a despicable family?! They are indecent fortune hunters! One of your cousins dared to marry my nephew!"
Mr. Collins' eyes widened; he blanched and swallowed hard. "I am sorry, Lady Catherine… I didn't know… I promise I won't marry…"
Before he could excuse himself further, Lady Catherine ordered, "Mr. Collins, listen carefully to me: I absolutely forbid you to choose your wife among those fortune hunters. ¿Do you understand what I am saying? I am very displeased with you!"
After several more profuse apologies, Mr. Collins returned to the parsonage. He would not give the Bennets an olive branch—they didn't deserve it!
September 1811
For nearly three months, Mr. Bennet had severe stomach and chest pains. Two weeks after Elizabeth's wedding, the pains gradually intensified to intolerable levels, and he also began to lose a steady amount of blood. He was deeply worried; so, he called for Mrs. Hills and gave her his bloody clothes. He briefly explained to her his ailments and asked her to keep the matter a secret. Then, Mr. Hill was sent to the apothecary, Mr. Jones, to request his presence at Longbourn.
Mr. Jones, after thoroughly checking over Mr. Bennet, sadly told him his diagnosis.
Mr. Bennet was visibly distressed, and asked, "Are you certain, Mr. Jones? Your diagnosis is very serious"
Mr. Jones sighed and nodded, his face grave, "I know, Mr. Bennet. Unfortunately, based on the symptoms you have, it is most likely the case. Of course, I suggest you see a specialist in London as soon as possible to verify my diagnosis."
Mr. Bennet nodded gravely, his eyes full of sadness. "How much time, in your estimation, do I have left to live? Is there any treatment available that could prolong or save my life?"
Mr. Jones shook his head. "Unfortunately, there is no cure or successful treatment. There is nothing that can be done. I estimate you have only a few months to live, maybe six at the most."
"I have so little time left, and the pain is getting worse..." He took a deep breath. "Is there any medicine I can take to ease the pain?"
"Laudanum; it is the only medicine that can ease your pain. But remember to take it in moderation."
Mr. Bennet nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Jones." He sighed. "I would appreciate it if you could keep my sickness a secret for a few days… I want to speak to my wife and family first, and I don't want anyone else to know before them."
"You have my total discretion..."
After Mr. Jones departed, Thomas remained in his study for several hours making plans for the next few days. The first thing he did was review Longbourn's ledgers and inventory, to ensure everything was in order. During the years Elizabeth lived with them, he would often transfer money from the interest on Elizabeth's dowry to the dowries of his daughters. His daughters had a dowry of £2,200 each; which was enough for them not to seek employment. However, it was not quite enough to attract a wealthy gentleman.
On the other hand, he had a few dozens of rare books and first editions that weren't part of Longbourn's inventory that he could sell, along with other valuables, so he could bequeath at least several hundred pounds more to his family.
Determined, he wrote a letter to his brother-in-law, Mr. Gardiner, relating his sad news to him and asking for his help in selling the books and other valuables. Subsequently, he called for his wife in order to have a heart-felt, serious conversation with her.
Fanny, seeing her husband's worried face, became very nervous, and asked him, "Mr. Bennet, is there something wrong? Why was Mr. Jones here this morning?"
"Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Jones came because I have been feeling sick for months." He looked into her eyes, "Fanny, it is very likely that I have cancer. If so, I only have a few months to live."
Fanny blanched and, after a long silence, exclaimed, "No, no, Mr. Bennet! Mr. Jones must be wrong! You cannot die just now. Please, Mr. Bennet, what will become of us? We will have to live on the charity of my brother and Elizabeth. You have to go to London to see a doctor…"
"Fanny, please, calm down. Remember that you have £5,000, and each of our daughters has a dowry of £2,200." He squeezed her hand. "Please, listen to me and let's speak calmly."
"How do you expect me to speak calmly? You are going to die, and my daughters and I are going to be left homeless and unprotected... I have palpitations and you are the one to blame..." She began to cry uncontrollably.
Mr. Bennet sighed, and hugged his flustered wife. "Fanny, please, listen to me: I promise, you and our daughters will not lack for anything in the future. The first thing I will do is sell all the books, some of which are very expensive, and all the valuables that are not part of Longbourn's inventory to raise more money for you. Also, there is almost £400 in my personal account for you and our daughters. I request you to save as much money as you can during the next few months..."
After that serious and heart-wrenching conversation with her husband, Fanny retired to her bedchamber; she was in a state of despair and agitation and that night she had the most terrifying 'palpitations'. Despite what her husband explained to her, she was quite worried about the future of her daughters. In particular, her beautiful Jane, who would turn twenty-three in a few months; if Mr. Bennet died, Jane would have to mourn her father for at least six months. Surely by then, she would be considered on the shelf. It was a disgrace!
