CHAPTER XX.
Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of hissuccessful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibuleto watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open thedoor and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than sheentered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself inwarm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collinsreceived and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and thenproceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the resultof which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since therefusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flowfrom her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.
This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet;--she would have beenglad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encouragehim by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not to believeit, and could not help saying so.
”But depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, ”that Lizzy shall bebrought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. She isa very headstrong foolish girl, and does not know her own interest; butI will _make_ her know it.”
”Pardon me for interrupting you, Madam,” cried Mr. Collins; ”but if sheis really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she wouldaltogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, whonaturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore sheactually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not toforce her into accepting me, because if liable to such defects oftemper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”
”Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. ”Lizzy isonly headstrong in such matters as these. In every thing else she is asgood natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, andwe shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”
She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to herhusband, called out as she entered the library,
”Oh! Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar.You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she willnot have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind andnot have _her_.”
Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed themon her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered byher communication.
”I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she hadfinished her speech. ”Of what are you talking?”
”Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins,and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”
”And what am I to do on the occasion?--It seems an hopeless business.”
”Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon hermarrying him.”
”Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”
Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to thelibrary.
”Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. ”I have sent foryou on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has madeyou an offer of marriage. Is it true?” Elizabeth replied that it was.”Very well--and this offer of marriage you have refused?”
”I have, Sir.”
”Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon youraccepting it. Is not it so, Mrs. Bennet?”
”Yes, or I will never see her again.”
”An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you mustbe a stranger to one of your parents.--Your mother will never see youagain if you do _not_ marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you againif you _do_.”
Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning;but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded theaffair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.
”What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised meto _insist_ upon her marrying him.”
”My dear,” replied her husband, ”I have two small favours to request.First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on thepresent occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have thelibrary to myself as soon as may be.”
Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, didMrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again;coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane inher interest, but Jane with all possible mildness declinedinterfering;--and Elizabeth sometimes with real earnestness andsometimes with playful gaiety replied to her attacks. Though her mannervaried however, her determination never did.
Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed.He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousincould refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no otherway. His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility of herdeserving her mother's reproach prevented his feeling any regret.
While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spendthe day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying toher, cried in a half whisper, ”I am glad you are come, for there is suchfun here!--What do you think has happened this morning?--Mr. Collins hasmade an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”
Charlotte had hardly time to answer, before they were joined by Kitty,who came to tell the same news, and no sooner had they entered thebreakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began onthe subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreatingher to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of all herfamily. ”Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added in a melancholy tone,”for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me, I am cruelly used,nobody feels for my poor nerves.”
Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.
”Aye, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, ”looking as unconcernedas may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, providedshe can have her own way.--But I tell you what, Miss Lizzy, if you takeit into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way,you will never get a husband at all--and I am sure I do not know who isto maintain you when your father is dead.--_I_ shall not be able to keepyou--and so I warn you.--I have done with you from this very day.--Itold you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to youagain, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure intalking to undutiful children.--Not that I have much pleasure indeed intalking to any body. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaintscan have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what Isuffer!--But it is always so. Those who do not complain are neverpitied.”
Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that anyattempt to reason with or sooth her would only increase the irritation.She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them tillthey were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered with an air more statelythan usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls,
”Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, andlet Mr. Collins and me have a little conversation together.”
Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, butLydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte,detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries afterherself and all her family were very minute, and then by a littlecuriosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretendingnot to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet thus began the projectedconversation.--”Oh! Mr. Collins!”--
”My dear Madam,” replied he, ”let us be for ever silent on this point.Far be it from me,” he presently continued in a voice that marked hisdispleasure, ”to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation toinevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty of a young manwho has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment; and Itrust I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of mypositive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for Ihave often observed that resignation is never so perfect as when theblessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation.You will not, I hope, consider me as shewing any disrespect to yourfamily, my dear Madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to yourdaughter's favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet thecompliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf.My conduct may I fear be objectionable in having accepted my dismissionfrom your daughter's lips instead of your own. But we are all liable toerror. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My objecthas been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with dueconsideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my _manner_has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologise.”