It was a bright, warm day in early September. Mary stood at the entrance of the house. “Mr. Collins, here is your hat, sir.”
Elizabeth observed as the rector took it from his wife’s hand. He showed her sister proper respect. She had lived a week at the parsonage, and from all she had seen, he was the model of a polite, decent man, though he spoke at excessive length, circling his subject more than once before arriving at his point. Some might call him prosy, but to her mind, he was categorically verbose, and his inclination toward over-explanation proved tiresome. It was little wonder her sister was exhausted. The man surpassed even Mamma in this regard, for one might withdraw from their mother’s company, but Mary, out of respect for her husband, was obliged to remain at his side until he had concluded, having described his subject in full and often wearisome detail.
The two sisters were mending collars and cuffs in the small parlor reserved for Mary’s use when a tap sounded at the door. The housekeeper entered with the correspondence.
There was a note from Rosings Park, and the other was a letter from Jane. Mary said, “We are invited to tea. You are to meet Miss Anne de Bourgh.”
“And shall I admire this great heiress, Mary?”
“I believe you will, sister. She is a slight, shy woman of five and twenty, fair like her mother, though in every other respect they are quite dissimilar. Miss Anne puts me in mind of a pixie, with delicate features and a willowy figure, whereas Lady Catherine is tall, heavy boned, and very decided in her opinions. It is said Miss Anne favors her father’s family.”
“Does Miss Anne have much conversation? Has she enjoyed balls and soirees in London?”
“She is an engaging conversationalist when we are alone, and no, she is of a delicate constitution and has never had a London season, nor does she desire one. She declares she will never marry, as she sees no advantage in it. She has inherited Rosings Park, subsists comfortably upon its income, and possesses a dowry of thirty thousand pounds. She asks why she should submit to a husband, when all she owns would then pass into his control.”
Elizabeth laughed. “If one considers it in that light, why indeed should any heiress marry, unless she desires love and affection and hopes to become a mother?”
Mary cast her a wry look. “You make a fair argument, but as for affection, that is far from certain. It depends entirely upon whether the gentleman is capable of loving anyone beyond himself.”
“That is true enough. Our parents endure a marriage devoid of affection, yet I wish to believe that true love is possible, and I shall not surrender that hope,” Elizabeth countered.
“What does Jane write?”
Elizabeth studied the letter. It had been misdirected to Gracechurch Street and returned to Longbourn.
Elizabeth’s brow puckered. “No wonder I have not received a letter from Jane. This one was misdirected.”
She broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Her eyes traveled swiftly down the page.
“Everyone is well. Mamma continues to pine for Lydia, as does Kitty. Charlotte is contemplating a lengthy visit to her relations in London in hopes of securing a beau.”
Elizabeth paused to read further before continuing aloud.
“Lizzy, Netherfield Park has been let, and I met the tenant at the assembly. Mr. Bingley is sensible, good-humored, and possessed of such easy, cheerful manners as to please everyone who meets him. I was greatly flattered when he requested the honor of a second dance, for I had not expected such a compliment.”
Elizabeth paused in her reading to say, “Compliments always take Jane by surprise. What could be more natural than for a fine gentleman to dance a second time with our dear Jane, who is five times prettier than every other lady in the room?”
Mary laughed, caught up in her sister’s teasing spirit.
“Lizzy, I have sorely needed your visit. You bring cheerfulness wherever you go. What else does she say?”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes once more to the page and continued reading.
“Mr. Bingley called upon me the day after the assembly, together with his sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Mrs. Hurst is his eldest sister. He asked to see the hermitage, and we all walked out together. Lizzy, he looked at me with such earnestness and paid me such pleasing attentions. He appeared almost unconscious of the world around us.I believe he may be the one. I never imagined such a thing could truly happen, yet I think we may have fallen in love at first sight. I shall close now, for we go into Harpenden to order a new walking dress. Write to me of Rosings Park and all its inhabitants, and pray give this letter to Mary once you have finished with it. Write to me soon."
Mary stood and walked to the small mirror that hung on the wall. She pinned up a stray lock. “Come, Lizzy. If we are to arrive on time, we must change our gowns.”
The two sisters walked along the lane beneath the shade of the beech grove until they crossed the green, which they must traverse to reach the grand entrance of the house. The formal gardens they passed were impressive, and though the carefully clipped topiary, trained into strict geometric forms, did not suit Elizabeth’s taste, they commanded admiration nonetheless.
They arrived at the imposing mansion in good time and were shown into a gilt drawing room, where the two de Bourgh ladies sat awaiting them. Introductions were made, and the sisters took their seats upon a couch near Miss de Bourgh. Elizabeth observed Mary and the young lady exchange smiles. As sheregarded Miss de Bourgh more closely, she saw her countenance bore the marks of restless nights, for the delicate skin under her eyes was tinged with blue, and her eyelids were puffy. The pretty young woman did call to mind a pixie, with her flyaway curls escaping from a loose chignon, her slight, slender figure, and her large blue eyes, which regarded her with keen curiosity.
Her attention was claimed when Lady Catherine spoke. “Mrs. Collins, your sister is very like you. Is she the elder?”
“Yes, my lady. Elizabeth is the second-born, and I follow her.”
The great lady fixed her gaze upon Elizabeth. “How is it neither you nor your elder sister married your father’s heir? It is quite improper to set aside the claims of two elder daughters.”
Elizabeth smiled at Mary, whose face had flushed, and replied with composure. “My lady, my mother determined which of her daughters was best suited to be Mr. Collins’s wife. She judged Jane to be too quiet and retiring for the position of wife to a parson, and me to be too determined to succeed her in the management of our family estate. Mary, she believed, was fitted for both duties.”
