Page 37 of The Lost Prophecy

“You are very kind, sir.”

“And Miss Elizabeth.” Mr Collins turned towards her, retaining his smile. “I am equally gratified.”

Elizabeth waited for him to elaborate, but his gratification apparently offered no details.

Mr Bennet entered behind them and closed the door. “Welcome, Mr Collins. It is fortunate that you arrived before the biscuits were exhausted. An introduction without refreshment might have proved unequal to the occasion.”

Mr Collins glanced at the plate as though surprised to find it in his hand. “Your excellent cook is deserving of the highest praise, sir. These biscuits have a lightness I have rarely encountered.”

“You have encountered seven of them,” Lydia muttered.

Kitty covered her mouth. Mary lowered her book, regarding Lydia with disapproval that lost some of its power when her own lips twitched.

Mrs Bennet directed Jane to a chair close to the hearth and tucked a cushion at her back. Elizabeth took the seat next to her. Once satisfied that her eldest daughter could remain upright, Mrs Bennet returned her eyes to Mr Collins.

“You were telling us about your situation in Kent, sir. A clergyman’s living, I believe?”

Mr Collins sensibly abandoned his previous seat near the fireplace, sat heavily on the sofa opposite the one occupied by Lydia and Kitty, and placed the plate on the table, although his hand stayed near it. “The rectory of Hunsford, madam, bestowed on me through the gracious condescension of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh. Her ladyship’s discernment in recognising merit is equalled only by her generosity in rewarding it.”

“How very fortunate.” Mrs Bennet sat at the opposite side of the same sofa, her expression composed into maternal interest. “And is the living a comfortable one?”

Elizabeth recognised the tone; her mother had used it when asking the price of Netherfield’s curtains.

Mr Collins folded his hands over his stomach. “It is sufficient for every reasonable need. The tithes are respectable, and the parsonage, though modest when compared with Rosings Park, is most agreeably situated.”

“A parsonage of your own.” Mrs Bennet glanced briefly at her daughters. “How pleasant. Does it have many rooms?”

“Lady Catherine herself has observed that the west-facing sitting room is of an appropriate size. She was also gracious enough to recommend shelves in the smaller closet upstairs.”

Mr Bennet took his usual chair and stretched one leg to the fire. “Her ladyship concerns herself with your closets?”

“She concerns herself with every matter deserving her attention,” Mr Collins said.

“What an alarming amount of attention she must possess.”

Mr Collins inclined his head, accepting this as praise. “Lady Catherine’s abilities are indeed most extensive.”

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with her father. His face was solemn, but his fingers tapped once on the arm of his chair.

However, Mrs Bennet had not finished her investigation. “And Hunsford is a sociable neighbourhood, I suppose? A married clergyman and his wife would find suitable company there?”

Mr Collins’s hand moved away from the biscuits, his shoulders straightening.

“Undoubtedly. Lady Catherine has frequently expressed the opinion that a clergyman in possession of a comfortable living ought to marry. A wife would provide an example to the parish and assist in those domestic responsibilities which might otherwise distract him from his duties.”

Mrs Bennet smiled. “Naturally. Has her ladyship suggested what sort of young woman would suit you?”

“She has advised me to choose an active, useful woman, not brought up too high, but capable of making a small income go a good way.” Mr Collins’s eyes returned to Jane. “I have always considered her guidance worthy of obedience.”

Jane’s fingers tightened around the edge of her shawl.

Elizabeth watched her mother perform several calculations without moving anything but her eyes. Jane was beautiful, gentle, and the eldest. She was also expected to receive a call from Mr Bingley within hours. Mr Collins had a comfortable living and would inherit Longbourn, but he did not have five thousand pounds a year.

Mrs Bennet leaned towards him. “And have you travelled into Hertfordshire merely to visit us?”

“My principal purpose is reconciliation.” Mr Collins placed one hand on his breast. “The unfortunate entailment of this estate has long troubled my conscience. I cannot alter the legal disposition, but I hope to lessen the injury by every means within my power.”

Mr Bennet studied him, one eyebrow lifted. “You intend to refuse Longbourn?”