Page 16 of Bitterness of Spirit

As for her cousin, Elizabeth noticed his manners had been little altered by his marriage: his formal civility was still there, and he did not allow her to enter until he posed several inquiries about her family. Inside, he welcomed them to his humble abode and repeated all his wife’s offers of refreshment.

After they admired every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, the cultivation of which he attended to himself. Every view was pointed out insistently, but none could compare with the prospect of Rosings, which appeared through an opening in the trees.

“And tomorrow, my dear sir, my dear Maria, my dear cousin—you will have the great joy of seeing Rosings for yourselves from the inside. Her ladyship has invited us all for tea—an honour that I am sure you all appreciate.”

“We surely do, sir. And we look forward to admiring everything you have described so diligently,” Elizabeth offered.

“And you shall, my dear cousin—I can promise you that,” Mr. Collins declared, bowing to her.

***

Despite a tendency to find amusement in her present situation, Elizabeth could not deny the beauties of Rosings. The walk from the Parsonage to the Manor was as charming as the spring day. Mr. Collins spoke of the number of gardeners in charge of trees, flowers, and paths, but Elizabeth heard little and enjoyed the sensation of walking through one of the loveliest gardens she had ever seen.

Slowly, Rosings Manor presented itself in all its beauty, and Elizabeth expressed her admiration.

“I am glad to hear your favourable opinion, but I am sure nobody would say otherwise. There are few places in England as beautiful as Rosings. Lady Catherine would not have it otherwise,” Mr. Collins declared.

Sir William and Maria were so much in awe that they could not say a word. The notion of meeting Lady Catherine de Bourgh added to their silence. When the large front door opened, Maria held her father’s arm tightly.

“Come, let me show the way. Her ladyship must be in the drawing room. There—is this not the most remarkable hall you have seen? Come, let us go this way.” Mr. Collins led them with a rapturous air and soon stopped in front of another door—smaller but no less impressive. He pushed it, invited the others inside, then followed them and stepped forward until he halted and bowed to a lady sitting in a large armchair, two companions on her left side.

“Lady Catherine, it is my humble honour to present to you my father-in-law, Sir William Lucas, my sister-in-law, Maria, and my cousin Miss Elizabeth Bennet. We are all exceedingly grateful for your ladyship’s invitation. I cannot say—”

“Yes, yes, take a seat,” the lady interrupted him. Her voice was as impressive and decided as her physical presence. Her features—still handsome—were shadowed by a cold severity that barely allowed the eyes to rest upon her face. She glared at them with unconcealed curiosity, measuring them from head to toe. Elizabeth struggled against her own amusement; several moments were enough to recognise that Lady Catherine was much like her nephew, only worse. She wondered whether her ladyship would find her tolerable enough to admit her to her table.

“So, you have finally arrived. I was saying to my daughter Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson that you were almost late.”

“Lady Catherine, I assure you that we tried to be punctual,” Mr. Collins responded with increased panic.

“I know you were timely; you do not have to point out the obvious to me. I said ‘almost.’ Mr. Collins, take a more distant chair and allow Miss Bennet and Sir William to sit near me. I wish to speak to them.”

He instantly moved, and Elizabeth obediently took the indicated chair while a smile threatened to spread over her face.

She glanced at Miss de Bourgh again; she appeared small and thin, and a thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind. She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife.

The image of the haughty Mr. Darcy with this pale, silent wife seemed amusing for a moment; then she briefly met Miss de Bourgh’s eyes. They were blue and empty, and the eyelashes often blinked as she watched the guests with restrained curiosity.

“Come, sit here, Miss Bennet. So—your father’s estate is entailed to Mr. Collins. Well, well, that must be very unpleasant. It never happened in our family; we know how to value women properly. If Anne were healthier, I am sure she would be an excellent mistress for any estate—or perhaps several.”

Elizabeth made no reply.

“So, you have four sisters?”

“Yes.”

“That must be very unpleasant. Four more sisters, none of them married, and no estate in your future.” Lady Catherine declared.

“I assure your ladyship that nothing is farther from the truth,” Elizabeth responded.

Mr. Collins frowned, and Lady Catherine’s eyes opened in disbelief, but Elizabeth continued calmly.

“Having four sisters is a true blessing. And we have no fear for the future as my father is strong and healthy. We expect to have him with us for many, many years.”

“Nevertheless, such a small estate cannot provide a decent dowry for any of you, of that you must agree,” Lady Catherine challenged her.

“I would not dare attempt to disagree. But we are happy enough as we are—at least for the present,” Elizabeth answered as pleasantly as she could.

“But have you at least benefited from a proper education? Anne has had the best teachers since she was an infant. I always say that a lady cannot dedicate too much time to her education. If Anne were healthier, she would be one of the best-educated women in England.”