Originally published 8/12/2007.
A short little chapter containing yet another lead-in to Darcy's second proposal (next chapter, and thankfully a Susan week!). Mr. Bennet teases (or perhaps I should say teazes) Lizzy about a letter he gets from Mr. Collins indicating that Darcy is interested in Lizzy. This surprises Mr. Bennet muchly, since he has no idea what happened in Derbyshire, and the complete change in Lizzy's feelings.
The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw Elizabeth into, could not be easily overcome; nor could she, for many hours, learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings, for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine; till she recollected that his being the intimate friend of Bingley, and her being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the expectation of one wedding made every body eager for another, to supply the idea...
So the supposed origin is rumour. Giving ear to idle rumour is really quite damaging, though God can certainly use it for His own good purposes.
...She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her sister must bring them...
Meaning Lizzy and Darcy, I think.
...more frequently together. And her neighbours at Lucas Lodge, therefore (for through their communication with the Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine), had only set that down as almost certain and immediate, which she had looked forward to as possible at some future time.
In revolving Lady Catherine's expressions, however, she could not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to prevent their marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an application to her nephew;...
Quite correct, as we may infer from the next chapter:
She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in her ladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance; in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.
...and how he might take a similar representation of the evils attached to a connection with her, she dared not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his aunt,...
She might have inferred from his first proposal that she means more to him than his aunt does. However, she does not know that his "wishes are unchanged."
...or his dependence on her judgment,...
...but it was natural to suppose that he thought much higher of her ladyship than she could do;...
A natural supposition, perhaps. A correct one, definitely not.
...and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with one whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would address him on his weakest side...
Except for a number of things. Firstly, Darcy humiliated himself and put himself through all kinds of misery to discover Lydia and make Wickham marry her. Lizzy knows this. Secondly, since Lizzy knows of this humiliation, I would think she could make the inference that Darcy has become less proud that formerly. Thirdly, since Bingley is to marry Jane, and Lizzy should really know that Darcy has "allowed" the match, and since Darcy in his first proposal said that has been kinder towards Bingley than towards himself, she could, I think, come to the conclusion that Wickham would be no obstacle to Darcy's asking Lizzy to marry him. However, with her usual self-deprecation and caution, Lizzy does not arrive at that conclusion.
...With his notions of dignity, he would probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.
If he had been wavering before as to what he should do, which had often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.
"If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his friend within a few days," she added, "I shall know how to understand it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him at all."
This is perhaps wise on Lizzy's part, since she is too timid to think him after her still.
The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had been, was very great; but they obligingly satisfied it, with the same kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet's curiosity;...
That is, that Lady Catherine had only come to tell Lizzy that the Collinses were well.
...and Elizabeth was spared from much teazing on the subject.
The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.
"Lizzy," said he, "I was going to look for you; come into my room."
"His room" equals the library. Interesting that Lizzy's reactions indicates she does not at all fear her father's asking to see her. She knows he has asked her for her opinion before. There is love there, to be sure! Perfect love casts out fear.
She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might be from Lady Catherine; and she anticipated with dismay all the consequent explanations.
I am reminded of that quote, "A woman's imagination is very rapid."
She followed her father to the fire place, and they both sat down. He then said,
"I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its contents. I did not know before, that I had two daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest."
We know from Mr. Bennet's subsequent comments that he does not think this a very serious matter. Therefore, judging from Lizzy's reaction, we may conclude that she takes him seriously.
The colour now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks in the instantaneous conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt; and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to herself; when her father continued,
"You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters as these; but I think I may defy even your sagacity, to discover the name of your admirer...
She knows, really, I think.
...This letter is from Mr. Collins."
"From Mr. Collins! and what can he have to say?"
"Something very much to the purpose of course...
Oh, the sarcasm!
...He begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience, by reading what he says on that point...
As Mr. Bennet is, so Austen is. Very kind thus to dismiss Mr. Collins's tiring congratulations.
...What relates to yourself, is as follows: "Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations...
I wonder if anyone has ever seriously written, "We offer you our most insincere congratulations!"
...of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another; of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in this land."
Mr. Collins's letter.
"Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?"...
..."This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with every thing the heart of mortal can most desire, -- splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure with this gentleman's proposals, which, of course, you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of."
So Mr. Collins thinks Lizzy quite as mercenary as himself.
"Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out."
"My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye."
Mr. Collins's letter.
"Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I have surprised you...
...Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man within the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life! It is admirable!"
Elizabeth tried to join in her father's pleasantry, but could only force one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so little agreeable to her.
"Are you not diverted?"
"Oh! yes. Pray read on."
"After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it become apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned."...
Mr. Collins's letter.
..."Mr. Collins moreover adds," "I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia's sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their living together before the marriage took place should be so generally known...
So there is Mr. Collins's Christian ethic: it is the discovery of Lydia and Wickham's immorality that bothers him, not the immorality itself! I am reminded of that part in Mansfield Park when Edmund says, "The want of common discretion, of caution: his going down to Richmond for the whole time of her being at Twickenham; her putting herself in the power of a servant; it was the detection, in short--oh, Fanny! it was the detection, not the offence, which she reprobated." It's in Chapter 47 in the last part of the book. I would highly commend to your attention the context of that passage.
...I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement at hearing that you received the young couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing." "That is his notion of Christian forgiveness!...
The sarcasm is evident. Forgiveness is a promise of not-remembering, as Jay Adams so eloquently put it in his book, From Forgiven to Forgiving. Not-remembering is different from forgetting. Forgetting is something we finite human beings do because our brains aren't capable of bringing to mind everything. But not-remembering is a three-fold promise not to bring an offense up again: either to yourself, or to the offending party, or to anyone else.
...The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte's situation, and his expectation of a young olive- branch...
So Charlotte is pregnant. A happy event indeed!
...But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be Missish,...
This means prudish. Apparently, it comes from miss + ish, so "like a miss."
...I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?"
"Oh!" cried Elizabeth, "I am excessively diverted...
The BBC captures this line quite well, I think.
...But it is so strange!"
"Yes -- that is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man it would have been nothing; but his perfect indifference, and your pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins's correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law...
Yet more sarcasm. This one's quite funny, I think.
...And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?"
To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by what he said of Mr. Darcy's indifference, and she could do nothing but wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead of his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much.
This is the way, is it not? Those to whom we are close are the ones who can most easily affect us, influence us.
Next week: all uncertainty is at an end. Finally. Don't miss the lovely, adorable Susan next week!