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Chapter 1
“If you allow me to read this,” said Mr. Bennet, “you may learn why he’s coming.” He read aloud:
Dear Sir,
The quarrel between you and my father has always caused me unhappiness; and since his death I have often wished to end it. You will be pleased to hear that I have now made up my mind. Last Easter I became a parson and was appointed by the noble and honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh to the care of this village. As a parson, I think it is my duty to spread peace. Therefore I hope that the question of Longbourn will not make you refuse my offer of friendship. I am deeply sorry that I will one day have to take over the home of your respected daughters. I apologize to them, and hope I may reduce this harm – but of this I will speak later. If you are willing, I shall present myself to your family on Monday next at four o’clock. I should like to stay twelve days as Lady Catherine has most kindly allowed me to be absent for this time. I remain, Dear Sir, your friend.
William
Collins.
“So we can expect this man of peace at four,” said Mr. Bennet. “He may become a friend – if his Lady Catherine is kind enough to let him come again.” Elizabeth wondered what he meant by “reducing the harm”. And why he apologized because Longbourn would pass to him? “It’s not his fault – and if he could prevent it, he wouldn’t. Do you think he can be a very sensible man?” “I don’t, my dear,” said her father. “He seems an interesting mixture: humble and self-important at the same time. I quite look forward to meeting him.”
To the younger Bennets the only interesting visitors were young officers from the camp near Meriton – not parsons. But Mrs. Bennet’s hatred of Longbourn’s future owner suddenly and strangely seemed to disappear.
Mr. Collins arrived exactly on time. He was a tall, serious, heavy-looking young man of twenty-five, with the manners of someone much older. He talked continuously to Mrs. Bennet, praising everything he saw, from her daughters to the dining-room furniture. Only when he praised the house itself was she upset. She could not forget that one day it would be all his. During the dinner Mr. Bennet said little. There was no need, for Mr. Collins had much to say. But when later they all returned to the sitting room he asked his guest about Lady Catherine and her house, Rosings.
This was a subject Mr. Collins was ready to talk about all night: how she had already asked him to dinner twice, and sent for him to be the fourth person at a game of cards; how she had planned shelves for his upstairs cupboards, and advised him to get married.
“Does she have any family?” asked Mrs. Bennet.
“One daughter – with a great deal of property.”
“Ah!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Then she’s luckier than many girls. What’s she like? Is she beautiful?”
Mr. Collins gave some thought to his answer. “She’s a most charming young lady. Lady Catherine herself says that Miss de Bourgh has more real beauty than other girls, because she looks more truly noble. She’s not, however, in good health and her education has suffered. But she’s perfectly polite.”
“It’s sad that her health prevents her from mixing in society. As I told Lady Catherine myself, the world of fashion has lost one of its brightest jewels – I like to make little remarks like this. They please the ladies, and it is a duty I owe to Lady Catherine.”
“Quite
right,” said Mr. Bennet. “How lucky to have this skill. Do these
remarks suddenly enter your mind? Or do you think of them before?”
“I think of them before, but try to make them sound natural when I
bring them out,” said Mr. Collins. Mr. Bennet was fully satisfied.
His cousin was even more foolish than he had hoped.
Chapter 5
Mr.
Wickham
Any advice of Lady Catherine to Mr. Collins was a command. He had to get married, and that was why he had come to Longbourn. He had heard that his cousins were pretty girls, and had come to marry one of them. Nor did he change his mind when he saw them, and by the end of his first evening he had decided on Jane. But Mrs. Bennet made him think again. She approved his marrying one of her daughters, but she had to warn him – Jane might soon be marrying someone else. In the time it look for Mrs. Bennet to put a log on the fire, Mr. Collins’s feelings flew from Jane to Elizabeth. Elizabeth, he thought, might be acceptable. That morning the girls decided to take Mr. Collins to visit their mother’s sister, Mrs. Philips, in Meriton. This plan was strongly approved by Mr. Bennet, who had been troubled by Mr. Collins’s company since breakfast.
When they reached the town Lydia and Catherine looked up and down for somebody they knew. They did not have to wait long. The attention of all four girls was soon caught by two men across the road. One was a young officer called Denny that they already knew. The other, not in uniform, was a stranger, and unusually good-looking. Pretending to be interested in a shop window, Lydia crossed the road and placed herself in their path. In this way they all met Mr. Denny’s friend, who was about to join the army.
This friend, Mr. Wickham was as charming as he was good-looking, and they all stood there talking for some time. It was such a pleasant conversation that they did not at first hear the sound of horses. It was Bingley and Darcy riding towards them. When they stopped, Bingley explained that they had been on their way to Longbourn to invite them to a dance at Netherfield. But Elizabeth was not listening. She was watching Darcy, and was very much surprised by what she saw. As soon as he saw the stranger his face turned white. Mr. Wickham seemed equally unhappy at this meeting. The two gentlemen raised their hats to each other, but neither said a word. Clearly they had met before.
The two horsemen soon rode on, and the rest of them walked along to the house of Mr. Philips. Lydia had tried to persuade the two young men to come inside, but Mr. Denny had duties at the camp, and they walked on.
While
Mrs. Philips and Mr. Collins exchanged polite words, Lydia waited impatiently.
She wanted to know more about Mr. Wickham. But although her aunt knew
most of what happened in Meryton, she could not tell them any more about
this gentleman.
The next evening, after Mr. Collins’s long apologies for leaving his hosts alone, he and his cousins drove off to the Philips’s house at Meryton. Mr. Collins looked round. The room, he said, was quite like the small summer breakfast room at Rosings. This did not at first sound like praise to Mrs. Philips. But Mr. Collins was kind enough to tell her more about Lady Catherine’s house, and she began to understand that Mr. Collins was doing her a great honour.
As soon as the other gentlemen came in with Mr. Philips, Elizabeth knew she had not been wrong to admire Mr. Wickham. His looks, his manners, his conversation put him far above the other officers. Here at last, unlike Mr. Darcy, was a true gentleman. When the card tables were put up, he preferred to sit with Lydia and Elizabeth. At first Lydia took all his attention, for she was a talker like her mother. But she also liked cards, and at last she went over to the tables, leaving Wickham along with her sister. Elizabeth knew she could not introduce the interesting subject of the meeting with Darcy in Meryton. So it was lucky that Mr. Wickham began by asking how long Darcy had been at Netherfield.
“About a month,” she replied. “I believe he has a fine house and a great deal of land in Derbyshire.”
“He has – and nobody could tell you more about Pemberley and the Darcys than me. I’ve known that house and family all my life. So you may wonder,” he went on, after seeing her surprise, “at the unfriendly meeting we had yesterday. Do you know him well?”
“As well as I shall ever want to. I don’t think he has a pleasant character,” said Elizabeth.
“I’ve known him too long to be able to judge him fairly. But many people would disagree with you. They’re easily influenced by money and rank.”
“Not in this neighborhood. Nobody likes him here.”
“I wonder,” said Wickham, after a pause, “how long he’s likely to stay.”
“I’ve heard nothing about his leaving. But I hope your plans won’t be changed by his being here.”
“I shan’t be driven away by him. He has more reason for avoiding me since he’s treated me very badly. But I shan’t say a word against him. I still have too much respect for his father – one of the best men.”
Mr. Wickham began to talk of other things, but soon returned to Darcy. “I’m a disappointed man. I wasn’t brought up for the army but for the Church. Old Mr. Darcy promised me a good position in the Church. But when he died and this position became free, his son gave it to someone else.”
“But how could he act so badly?” cried Elizabeth.
“He’s jealous. You see, my father looked after old Mr. Darcy’s property, and I was brought up and educated with the son. Perhaps I was too much of a favorite of the old man. I think his son has never forgiven me.”
Elizabeth remembered Darcy’s words at Netherfield about his unforgiving character. “What sort of girl is his sister?” she asked.
Mr. Wickham shook his head. “It makes me sad to speak badly of any Darcy, but she’s like her brother – good-looking, but very proud. I used to play with her when she was a child, but she looks down on me now.”
“I’m surprised by his friendship with Mr. Bingley. Surely he must know what sort of man Mr. Darcy is.”
“Perhaps not. Mr. Darcy can be charming when he likes – especially to those he thinks are his equals.”
Just then the card party began to break up, and Elizabeth asked Mr. Collins how he’d done. He replied that he had lost every game. “But I don’t mind. I don’t have to worry about the loss of five shillings – thanks to the goodness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Wickham looked up at the sound of that name. Later, taking Elizabeth aside, he asked how her cousin was connected with that lady, and she explained.
“You may not know,” he said, “that Lady Catherine is Mr. Darcy’s aunt. Her daughter will be very rich. It’s thought that she and Mr. Darcy will marry, and so bring together two large properties.”
Elizabeth smiled to think of Miss Bingley’s hopes.
Next morning Elizabeth told Jane what she had learnt about Darcy. Her sister was surprised. She could not believe that Bingley would choose the kind of friend described by Wickham. She did not know what to think.
“I know exactly what to think,” said Elizabeth. “I know the kind of man that Mr. Darcy is.”
However, a more important matter was now arising. The day of the Netherfield dance was near, and the entire Bennet family (except, of course, its head) was in a state of excitement. Elizabeth, full of happy thoughts of dancing half the evening with Wickham, asked Mr. Collins if he was going to the dance.
“I’m not one of those who think parsons should never attend a dance – especially when it’s given by a gentleman of good character like Mr. Bingley,” he said. “I hope for the honor of dancing with all my cousins. Indeed, I would like to take this opportunity of asking for the pleasure of the first two dances with you.”
Elizabeth was speechless. She had quite expected Mr. Wickham to ask her for just these dances – and to have Mr. Collins instead! But there was no escape.
Worse
followed. Rain kept the Bennets inside for days. So she was prevented
from seeing more of Wickham. Worse still, it was becoming clear that
Mr. Collins was taking an uncomfortably close interest in her. Surely,
he ... but, no, that was impossible.
Chapter 6
The
dance at Netherfield
Elizabeth dressed carefully for the dance. For this was the night when she must win Mr. Wickham’s heart.
But all her hopes depended of one thing – that Wickham would be there. So imagine her feelings on entering the room and finding he was not. Had Darcy persuaded his friend not to invite him? Later she learnt from Lydia that this was not so. Wickham had left for London on business (he had told his friends). But she knew the real cause of his absence was Darcy.
However, anger against Darcy was soon replaced by feelings of different kind. Mr. Collins was coming to claim her for his dances. He was no dancer, and what followed was misery. It was hard to say which was worse: the many times that he trod on her food, or the apologies that followed. But the dance ended at last, and she ran to Charlotte to tell her all her troubles. But she had hardly begun, when another gentleman came to ask her to dance – Darcy. She was too surprised to refuse. For some time they stood silent on the dance-floor, waiting for the music to begin. Elizabeth made some remark to which Darcy replied. Then the dance started and there was more silence.
“It’s your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy,” she said, “I talked about the dance. You could talk about the size of the room or the number of dancers.”
“I’ll say whatever you want me to say,” he replied.
“That reply will do for the moment. Perhaps later I may say that private dances are pleasanter than public ones. But for the moment we can be silent.”
So they remained silent, until Darcy asked if she often walked to Meryton.
“Quite often. When you met us the other day we had just been making a new friend,” Elizabeth replied.
“Mr. Wickham is always able to make friends,” he said coldly. “But he doesn’t find it so easy to keep them.”
“He’s been unlucky enough to loose your friendship, and is likely to suffer for it all his life,” she said.
The dance ended. Both dancers felt glad not to have to continue the conversation. Darcy led her to a seat next to Miss Bingley, and went off in anger: but anger that was more against Wickham than Elizabeth.
“So, Miss Eliza,” said Miss Bingley, “your sister has been asking me about George Wickham. I hear you’re quite delighted with him. But you may not know that his father was old Mr. Darcy’s servant. Let me warn you, as a fried, not to believe everything he says. He has harmed Mr. Darcy. I don’t know how, but I do know that Mr. Darcy cannot bear to hear his name. I pity you, Miss Eliza. You’ll find out your favorite’s true character in the end.”
“So far as I understand you, Mr. Wickham’s only fault is that his father worked for old Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth coldly.
“I beg your pardon,” said Miss Bingley as she got up and walked away. “I was only trying to be kind.”
“Insulting girl,” said Elizabeth to herself. “She knows nothing, but believes everything Darcy says.”
But now a very excited Mr. Collins was coming towards her. Surely he could not want another dance?
“I’ve made a most important discovery,” he cried. “In this very room tonight is a close relative of Lady Catherine. I must offer him my respects at once.”
“You’re surely not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth cried.
“Indeed I am. I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s nephew. It’s my duty to introduce myself, and tell him that she was quite well two weeks ago yesterday.”
Elizabeth tried hard to stop him, but without success. She knew that Darcy would not encourage it.
She could not hear what Mr. Collins said. She only saw the expression on Darcy’s face become more and more distant. The meeting ended with a short bow from Mr. Darcy and he moved away. “I have no reason to be dissatisfied,” said Mr. Collins, as he returned rubbing his hands. “Mr. Darcy received me most politely.”
It was at supper, however, that Elizabeth’s most painful experience took place. She had been avoiding her mother all evening so as not to hear her talking. But now she found herself seated between her mother and Lady Lucas, with Darcy not far away.
Mrs. Bennet could only talk of one thing – her hopes of Jane’s marriage to Bingley. She never got tired of repeating its advantages: that Mr. Bingley was so rich; that Bingley’s sisters loved Jane so much, and that the younger daughters might meet other rich men.
Elizabeth knew that Darcy could hear this, but it was useless to try to make her mother speak more quietly. “What’s Mr. Darcy to me?” she thought. “We owe him nothing.” But even Mrs. Bennet stopped talking at last, and Lady Lucas found comfort in some cold chicken.
Mrs.
Bennet returned home happily certain that in three months Jane would
be settled at Netherfield. She was equally sure that her second daughter
would soon be Mrs. Collins. But she did not care so much about this.
For Elizabeth was her least favorite child.
I.
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