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Pride and Prejudice / Гордость и предубеждение
Pride and Prejudice / Гордость и предубеждение

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After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained:

“About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”

“Oh!” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Bennet, “nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”

“Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October.

“Dear Sir, —

“The disagreement between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach[64]. For some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing that it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at disagreement. My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination[65] at Easter, I have been distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh. She has preferred me to the valuable rectory[66] of this parish, where it will be my earnest endeavour to show the grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence. On these grounds I flatter myself that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will not lead you to reject the offered olive-branch. I am concerned at being the means of injuring your daughters, and beg leave[67] to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends – but of this later. If you have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of visiting you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and will probably trespass on your hospitality[68] till the Saturday following. I can do this without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. – I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,

“WILLIAM COLLINS”

“At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peacemaking gentleman,” said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most polite young man, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine lets him come to us again.”

“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I will not be the person to discourage him.”

“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to make us the amends, the wish is certainly to his credit.”

Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary respect for Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever it were required[69].

“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “There is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail? Could he be a sensible man, sir?”

“No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”

“In point of composition,” said Mary, “the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed.”

To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. As for their mother, Mr. Collins's letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her husband and daughters.

Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins was not inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having such a fine family of daughters; said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance fame had fallen short of the truth[70]; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. Mrs. Bennet answered most readily.

“You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be poor enough. Things are settled so oddly.”

“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”

“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.”

“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward[71]. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted —”

He was interrupted by a summons to dinner. The girls were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; and his praises of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing. But Mrs. Bennet assured him with some severity that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour.

Chapter 14

During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady Catherine de Bourgh's attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen better. Mr. Collins was expressive in her praise. He protested that “he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank – such cordiality and grace, as he had himself experienced from Lady Catherine. She was reckoned proud by many people he knew, but he had never seen anything but cordiality in her. She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in his humble dwelling, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even suggested some herself – some shelves in the closet upstairs.”

“That is all very proper, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”

“The garden in which stands my humble dwelling is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship's residence.”

“I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?”

“She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property.”

“Ah!” said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off[72] than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”

“She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks the young lady of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of poor health, which has prevented her from making that progress in many accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive by my humble dwelling in her little phaeton and ponies.”

“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court.”

“Her state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I consider myself bound to pay.”

“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet, “and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?”

“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them an unstudied air[73].”

Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in his pleasure.

By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily agreed, and a book was produced; but, on seeing it, he started back, and begging pardon, protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he chose Fordyce's Sermons. Lydia yawned as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with:

“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I am going to walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”

Lydia was told by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr. Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said:

“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by serious books, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”

Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at backgammon[74]. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most politely for Lydia's interruption, and promised that it would not occur again; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his young cousin no ill-will[75], seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon.

Chapter 15

Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had not been assisted by education or society. The greatest part of his life had been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he did not form 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 counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head[76], 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. The respect which he felt for her high rank, and his adoration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his rights as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and servility, selfimportance 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 of amends for inheriting their father's estate; and he thought it an excellent one, 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 for the first evening she was his settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration. In a quarter of an hour's tête-à-tête with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation beginning with his house, and leading naturally to the declaration of his hopes, that a mistress might be found for it at Longbourn, produced from her, among smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to her younger daughters, she did not know of any prepossession; her eldest daughter, she must just mention, was likely to be very soon engaged.”

Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth – and it was soon done. Elizabeth, equally next to Jane in age and beauty, succeeded her of course.

Mrs. Bennet 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 in her good graces[77].

Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister except Mary agreed to go with her. 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 there Mr. Collins had followed him after breakfast; and there he took a large book but continued talking to Mr. Bennet of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure of 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 politeness, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk; and Mr. Collins was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go.

When they entered Meryton, the eyes of the younger girls were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers.

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 to find out, led the way across the street, under pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and begged 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[78]. He had a fine face, a good figure, and very pleasing manners. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation; 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. Bingley said he was on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after Jane. Mr. Darcy confirmed it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when he suddenly noticed the stranger. Elizabeth happened to see the expression of both as they looked at each other, and 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[79]. What could be the meaning of it?

In another minute, Mr. Bingley 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[80], in spite of Miss Lydia's invitation.

Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and she received Mr. Collins with her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her. Mrs. Phillips was quite impressed by such an excess of good breeding.

She told her nieces of the stranger what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he had a lieutenant's commission in the – shire. Some of the officers were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband invite Mr. Wickham, also. Mrs. Phillips declared 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.

As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass between the two gentlemen; but Jane could no more explain such behaviour than her sister.

Mr. Collins on his return highly pleased Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. Phillips's manners and politeness.

He said 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 politeness, but even included him in her invitation for the next evening, although utterly unknown to her before.

Chapter 16

The next evening the coach took Mr. Collins and his five cousins to Meryton; and the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle's invitation, and was then in the house.

When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. Collins looked around him and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared it was like the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings. When Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its proprietor – when she had listened to the description of only one of Lady Catherine's drawing-rooms, and found that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment.

In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble dwelling, he was happily employed until the gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Phillips a very attentive listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she heard. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach, and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt some unreasonable admiration.

Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself. The agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made her feel that the commonest, dullest topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.

When the card-tables were placed, Mr. Collins sat down to whist[81].

Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. Allowing for the common demands of the game,[82] Mr. Wickham could at leisure talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told – the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

“About a month,” said Elizabeth, and then added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum.[83] I can give you certain information on that subject for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”

Elizabeth looked surprised.

“Then you may be surprised, Miss Bennet, after seeing the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

“I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”

“I have no right to give my opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish – and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”

“Upon my word, I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride.”

“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts[84]; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”

“I took him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man.” Wickham only shook his head.

“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”

“I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans to stay here will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”

“Oh! No – it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage,[85] and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. But his son's behaviour to myself has been scandalous; however I believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.”

Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.

Mr. Wickham began to speak on Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gallantry.

“Society, I admit, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude.

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