JANE AUSTEN 5 страница

for it would be a great loss to _me_ to have many such

acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh."

 

"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me credit for more than

can be. The wisest and the best of men, nay, the wisest and

best of their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person

whose first object in life is a joke."

 

"Certainly," replied Elizabeth -- "there are such people, but I

hope I am not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is

wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies

_do_ divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. --

But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

 

"Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been the

study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a

strong understanding to ridicule."

 

"Such as vanity and pride."

 

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride -- where there is

a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good

regulation."

 

Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.

 

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss

Bingley; -- "and pray what is the result?"

 

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect.

He owns it himself without disguise."

 

"No" -- said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension. I have

faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding.

My temper I dare not vouch for. -- It is I believe too little

yielding -- certainly too little for the convenience of the

world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon

as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My feelings are

not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper

would perhaps be called resentful. -- My good opinion once lost

is lost for ever."

 

"_That_ is a failing indeed!" -- cried Elizabeth. "Implacable

resentment _is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen

your fault well. -- I really cannot _laugh_ at it; you are safe

from me."

 

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some

particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best

education can overcome."

 

"And _your_ defect is a propensity to hate every body."

 

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to

misunderstand them."

 

"Do let us have a little music," -- cried Miss Bingley, tired

of a conversation in which she had no share. -- "Louisa, you

will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst."

 

Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the piano-forte

was opened, and Darcy, after a few moments recollection, was

not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying

Elizabeth too much attention.

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XII (12)>

 

IN consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth

wrote the next morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage

might be sent for them in the course of the day. But

Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at

Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly

finish Jane's week, could not bring herself to receive hem with

pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at

least not to Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get

home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly

have the carriage before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was

added that, if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them to stay

longer, she could spare them very well. -- Against staying

longer, however, Elizabeth was positively resolved -- nor did

she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the

contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves

needlessly long, she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley's

carriage immediately, and at length it was settled that their

original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be

mentioned, and the request made.

 

The communication excited many professions of concern; and

enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the

following day, to work on Jane; and till the morrow their going

was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had

proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister

much exceeded her affection for the other.

 

The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were

to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet

that it would not be safe for her -- that she was not enough

recovered; but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be

right.

 

To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence -- Elizabeth had been

at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he

liked -- and Miss Bingley was uncivil to _her_, and more

teazing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be

particularly careful that no sign of admiration should _now_

escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of

influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had

been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have

material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his

purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole

of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by

themselves for half an hour, he adhered most conscientiously to

his book, and would not even look at her.

 

On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable

to almost all, took place. Miss Bingley's civility to

Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly, as well as her

affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring the

latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see her

either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most

tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. -- Elizabeth

took leave of the whole party in the liveliest spirits.

 

They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother.

Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very

wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have

caught cold again. -- But their father, though very laconic in

his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he

had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening

conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of

its animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane

and Elizabeth.

 

They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass

and human nature; and had some new extracts to admire, and some

new observations of thread-bare morality to listen to.

Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different

sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the

regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers

had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged,

and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going

to be married.

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XIII (13)>

 

"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. Why Jane -- you never dropt a

word of this; you sly thing! 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 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 attempted to explain to her the nature of an

entail. They had often attempted 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 was very

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

hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not he

keep on quarrelling 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,

 

15th 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 any one 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 of

good-will 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'nnight 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 peacemaking

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 with 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 stile. -- And

what can he mean by apologizing for being next in the entail?

-- We cannot suppose he would help it, if he could. -- Can 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, "his 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 well

disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the

taste of some of his hearers, but Mrs. Bennet who quarrelled

with no compliments, answered most readily,

 

"You are very kind, sir, 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

every thing 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 excellence

of its cookery was owing. But here he was set right 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.

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XIV (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 eloquent in her praise. The subject

elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a

most important aspect he protested that he had never in his

life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank -- such

affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced

from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to

approve of both the discourses which he had already had the

honour of preaching before her. She had also asked him twice

to dine at Rosings, and had sent for him only the Saturday

before, to make up her pool of quadrille in the evening. Lady

Catherine was reckoned proud by many people he knew, but _he_

had never seen any thing but affability 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 his 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

parsonage; where she had perfectly approved all the alterations

he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some

herself, -- some shelves in the closets up stairs.

 

"That is all very proper and civil 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 abode 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 one only daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very

extensive property."

 

"Ah!" cried Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, "then she is better

off 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 woman of

distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly

constitution, which has prevented her making that progress in

many accomplishments which she could not otherwise have 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

abode in her little phaeton and ponies."

 

"Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the

ladies at court."

 

"Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being

in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one

day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornament.

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

conceive myself peculiarly 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 as unstudied an air as

possible."

 

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, maintaining at the same time the most

resolute composure of countenance, 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 assented, and a book was produced;

but on beholding it (for every thing announced it to be from a

circulating library), 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 gaped as

he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous

solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with,

 

"Do you know, mama, that my uncle Philips talks of turning away

Richard, and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My

aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton

to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny

comes back from town."

 

Lydia was bid 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 books of a serious stamp, 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. 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 civilly for Lydia's interruption, and promised

that it should not occur again, if he would resume his book;

but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his young

cousin no ill will, and should never resent her behaviour as

any affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet,

and prepared for backgammon.

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XV (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

rights as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and

obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.

 

Having now a good house and 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 chuse 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

-- 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 te^te-a`-te^te with