Chapter 15
Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature
had been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest
part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an
illiterate and miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the
universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without
forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his
father had brought him up had given him originally great humility
of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by the
self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the
consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A
fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh
when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he
felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his
patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his
authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him
altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance
and humility. Having now a good house and a very sufficient income,
he intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the
Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he meant to choose one
of the daughters, if he found them as handsome and amiable as they
were represented by common report. This was his plan off amends— of
atonement— for inheriting their father's estate; and he thought it
an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness, and
excessively generous and disinterested on his own part.
His plan did not vary on seeing
them. Miss Bennet's lovely face confirmed his views, and
established all his strictest notions of what was due to seniority;
and for the first evening SHE was his settled choice. The next
morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an hour's
tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation
beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally to the
avowal of his hopes, that a mistress might be found for it at
Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and
general encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed
on. "As to her younger daughters, she could
not take upon her to say— she could not positively answer— but she
did not know of any prepossession; her
eldest daughter, she must just mention— she
felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon
engaged."
Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth— and it was
soon done— done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth,
equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.
Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon
have two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to
speak of the day before was now high in her good graces. Lydia's
intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister
except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend
them, at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid
of him, and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins
had followed him after breakfast; and there he would continue,
nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection,
but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little cessation, of his
house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet
exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure of leisure and
tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet
with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was
used to be free from them there; his civility, therefore, was most
prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk;
and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker than
a reader, was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go. In
pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his
cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention
of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their
eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the
officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a
really new muslin in a shop window, could recall them. But the
attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they
had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking
with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was
the very Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came
to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the
stranger's air, all wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia,
determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street,
under pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortu
nately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning
back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly,
and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who
had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to
say had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as
it should be; for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him
completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he
had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure,
and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his
side by a happy readiness of conversation— a readiness at the same
time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were
still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound
of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding
down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two
gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual
civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet
the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn
on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a
bow, an was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on
Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the
stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as
they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of
the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red.
Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat— a salutation
which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What could be the meaning
of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long
to know. In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to
have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.
Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door
of Mr. Phillip's house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss
Lydia's pressing entreaties that they should come in, and even in
spite of Mrs. Phillips's throwing up the parlour window and loudly
seconding the invitation. Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her
nieces; and the two eldest, from their recent absence, were
particularly welcome, and she was eagerly expressing her surprise
at their sudden return home, which, as their own carriage had not
fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if she had not
happened to see Mr. Jones's shop-boy in the street, who had told
her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield
because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was
claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane's introduction of him. She
received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with
as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any previous
acquaintance with her, which he could not help flattering himself,
however, might be justified by his relationship to the young ladies
who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by
such an excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of one
stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about
the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what
they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and
that he was to have a lieutenant's commission in the ——shire. She
had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and
down the street, and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia
would certainly have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one
passed windows now except a few of the officers, who, in comparison
with the stranger, were become "stupid, disagreeable fellows." Some
of them were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and their
aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and give him
an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn would come in the
evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips protested that they
would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery tickets, and a
little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such delights
was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr.
Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was
assured with unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless.
As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen
pass between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended
either or both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, she could no
more explain such behaviour than her sister. Mr. Collins on his
return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. Phillips's
manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady Catherine
and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for she
had not only received him with the utmost civility, but even
pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening,
although utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed,
might be attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had
never met with so much attention in the whole course of his life.