Читать книгу Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austin, Jane Austin - Страница 14

“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at

breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner

to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family

party.”

“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am

sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in—and I hope

_my_ dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often

sees such at home.”

“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is

Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad

to see Mr. Bingley. But—good Lord! how unlucky! There is not a

bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell—I

must speak to Hill this moment.”

“It is _not_ Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom

I never saw in the whole course of my life.”

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of

being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at

once.

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 early 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! my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that

mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is

the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be

entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had

been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other

about it.”

Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an

entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a

subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and

she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an

estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man

whom nobody cared anything about.

“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet, “and

nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting

Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps

be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”

“No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very

impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical.

I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling

with you, as his father did before him?”

“Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on

that head, as you will hear.”

“Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15_th October_.

“Dear Sir,—

“The disagreement subsisting 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; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts,

fearing lest 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 variance.—‘There, Mrs. Bennet.’—My mind, however, is now

made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter,

I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage

of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir

Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to

the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest

endeavour to demean myself with 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; and on

these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures are

highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in

the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your

side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive-branch. I

cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring

your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as

well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible

amends—but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to

receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of

waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four

o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the

Saturday se’ennight following, which I can do 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 peace-making

gentleman,” said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He

seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my

word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance,

especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let 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 shall 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 atonement he thinks our due, the wish is

certainly to his credit.”

Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for

Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying,

and burying his parishioners whenever it were required.

“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him

out.—There is something very pompous in his style.—And what can

he mean by apologising for being next in the entail?—We cannot

suppose he would help it if he could.—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. It was next to impossible that their

cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks

since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in any

other colour. 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 seemed

neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent

himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of

five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners

were very formal. He had not been long seated before he

complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters;

said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance

fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not

doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage.

This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers;

but Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no compliments, 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 destitute 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 and precipitate. 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; and the girls smiled

on each other. They 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 commendation 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 he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him

with some asperity 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.