that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in
having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it
was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready to close with their
kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday
fortnight; for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to
take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his
amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.
Mr. Collins's return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the
contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he
should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and
exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so
indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs
of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley's continued
absence.
Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without
bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his
coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet,
and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.
Even Elizabeth began to fear—not that Bingley was indifferent—but that his sisters would be
successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's
happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequently
occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted
by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London might be too much, she feared,
for the strength of his attachment.
As for Jane, HER anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more painful than Elizabeth's, but
whatever she felt she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore,
the subject was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom
passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival, or even
require Jane to confess that if he did not come back she would think herself very ill used. It
needed all Jane's steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.
95
Mr. Collins returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was
not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need
much attention; and luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a
great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he
sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the
family went to bed.
Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of anything concerning the
match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went she was sure of hearing it
talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she
regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them, she concluded her
to be anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins,
was convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself and
her daughters out of the house, as soon as Mr. Bennet were dead. She complained bitterly of all
this to her husband.
"Indeed, Mr. Bennet," said she, "it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be
mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for HER, and live to see her take her
place in it!"
"My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter
ourselves that I may be the survivor."
This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and therefore, instead of making any answer, she
went on as before.
"I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I should
not mind it."
"What should not you mind?"
"I should not mind anything at all."
"Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility."
"I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the
conscience to entail away an estate from one's own daughters, I cannot understand; and all for
the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should HE have it more than anybody else?"
96
"I leave it to yourself to determine," said Mr. Bennet.
Chapter 24
Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the
assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother's
regret at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the
country.
Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest of the letter, she found little,
except the professed affection of the writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy's praise
occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on, and Caroline boasted joyfully
of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had
been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother's being an
inmate of Mr. Darcy's house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to
new furniture.
Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent
indignation. Her heart was divided between concern for her sister, and resentment against all
others. To Caroline's assertion of her brother's being partial to Miss Darcy she paid no credit.
That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she had ever done; and much as she
had always been disposed to like him, she could not think without anger, hardly without
contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the
slave of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happiness to the caprice of
their inclination. Had his own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been
allowed to sport with it in whatever manner he thought best, but her sister's was involved in it, as
she thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be
long indulged, and must be unavailing. She could think of nothing else; and yet whether
Bingley's regard had really died away, or were suppressed by his friends' interference; whether
he had been aware of Jane's attachment, or whether it had escaped his observation; whatever