They watched as Mr. Honeyfield left the ballroom, no doubt in search of his ill-behaved daughter.
Chapter 8: Mr. Collins
Thomas Bennet sat at his desk, an open letter in his hand. William Collins had written to request his daughter's hand in marriage. He was confounded. This was their first communication, and he wondered how the man knew he had daughters.
He rose and went to the drawing room, where his family sat together. “Ladies, I have received a letter. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am gone, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”
Mrs. Bennet gave a cry and pressed her hand to her throat. The sisters remained silent, awaiting further explanation.
“Mrs. Bennet, you will be gratified to learn he hopes to make amends for being the means of injuring our daughters.” He placed the letter in her hands. “Pray read it aloud, for we must determine how best to proceed.”
Frances Bennet accepted the letter and started reading aloud.
July 16, 1811
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent
She read the missive aloud, but upon reaching its most salient passage, she paused, cast a grave look over each of her daughters, and then continued:
“…I propose, therefore, sir, you bring your daughter to Kent, that we may be married at the Hunsford parsonage with all convenient speed, for my esteemed patroness does not look kindly upon an unmarried clergyman. She declares it unseemly and will not countenance it.
I have acquainted her with the circumstances of the entail upon the Longbourn estate, and she has directed me to invite my cousin and to marry her, as a proper means of atoning for the injury done to your amiable family. Should my proposals of goodwill meet with your approval, and should you raise no objection, I beg you to bring my intended bride to the parsonage within a fortnight, for her ladyship is most adamant that the families of the parish not consider me as the rightful property of one or other of their daughters.
Lady Catherine de Burgh is particularly pleased with this proposal, as she believes it will prevent any resentment among the families of the Hunsford parish, whose daughters were not chosen. Her ladyship and I are persuaded all will regard this as the most just and proper course.
Sir, lest you suppose I intend any slight toward your amiable daughter by not presenting myself at your home, I must explain that the parish has fallen into serious neglect, and the former rector was too advanced in years to attend to his duties. Lady Catherine has therefore not granted me leave to travel and pay my addresses to my cousin. She is of the opinion that a woman suited to be the wife of a clergyman must be prepared to make sacrifices when required. And besides, sir, she judges that I have not labored sufficiently to merit time away from my flock.”
Mrs. Bennet set down the letter, too overcome with delighted gratitude to continue. She need never again fear the hedgerows.
Then confusion displaced her pleasure, and she asked, “Daughter? He believes we have only one daughter?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bennet, he does. I cannot imagine how he knows anything of us, unless his father informed him. I recall writing to William senior to announce Jane’s birth.”
Mrs. Bennet considered the matter. Her daughters sat upon the couch, each scarcely daring to breathe, as if any movement might draw their mother’s attention and fix her as the chosen one.
At length, Mr. Bennet spoke. “My dear, I believe we should send this letter by express to Elizabeth, so each of our daughters may have the opportunity to consider the offer.”
“No, Mr. Bennet, you must hear me as regards each of our daughters. My Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing, sir. She is destined for something far better than the wife of a rector, even if he is the heir. I am persuaded she has beauty enough to secure a titled gentleman, one with a house in town and a fine estate. No, Mr. Bennet, the rector shall not have my firstborn.”
Her gaze shifted to Elizabeth’s empty place, and she raised her eyes in open defiance to her husband. “Nor shall he have our second, for Lizzy and I have never been of one mind. She thinks herself above me, and I cannot endure the thought that Elizabeth should be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to yield to her and live to see her take my place. No indeed, sir, it shall not be my second.”
Her attention next fixed on Mary. “But now, my middle daughter is of a proper age for a gentleman of five and twenty. At nineteen, she is quite fit to marry, and more importantly, Mary possesses a disposition to heed her mother when matters of consequence arise.”
Mr. Bennet interrupted her. “What you mean, Mrs. Bennet, is that Mary will not displace you when she becomes mistress of Longbourn.”
Mrs. Bennet addressed Mary. “You would not object, my dear, if I continued to plan the menus and direct the household when you are mistress? Only consider, if I proceed as I always have, you will have ample time for your music, your friends, your husband, and all your children. I should merely act in support of you.”
Mary was astonished. She had rarely drawn her mother’s particular attention. That distinction belonged first to Jane, and then to Lydia, both fair and golden, and therefore the most admired in their mother’s estimation.
Mr. Bennet said, “None of my daughters shall be compelled to marry a man they cannot esteem. If Mary has a mind to accept the rector, then I shall give my consent. If she does not, the matter will be set aside.”
But Mary’s imagination had already taken hold. She might be advantageously married at nineteen and escape the fate of their friend Charlotte, who at seven and twenty stood on the brink of spinsterhood. She owned she herself had little more to offer a man than their unfortunate friend.
She asked, “Papa, it seems to me that he is a man of merit, for he educated himself and now holds a living.”
“I agree with your assessment,” he said.
“I will accept Mr. Collins if you will agree to send Lizzy to me soon after I am wed, for I have no instruction in the management of a household.”
