Chapter 29

This invitation gave Mr. Collins a perfect triumph. He wanted to show his astonished guests the grand way his patroness lived. He wanted them to see for themselves how politely Lady Catherine treated him and his wife. That was exactly what he had hoped for. That such a chance had come so soon showed a graciousness in Lady Catherine's kindness that could never be praised enough.

He said, "I confess I would not have been at all surprised if Lady Catherine had asked us to Rosings for tea and to spend the evening there on Sunday. I know her kindness so well that I rather expected as much. But who would have guessed she would be so thoughtful? To think that we were invited to dinner there as soon as we arrived! And the whole party too! Who could have imagined it?"

Sir William replied, "I am not very surprised at this, for my life in society has taught me what the manners of great people are really like. Near the court, such refined manners are not at all uncommon."

For the rest of that day and the next morning, they talked of hardly anything but the visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins carefully told them beforehand what the rooms were like, how many servants there were, and how splendid the dinner would be. He did not want his guests to be too overwhelmed by what they saw.

As the ladies scattered to their rooms to dress, he said to Elizabeth,

"My dear cousin, do not worry about your dress. Lady Catherine is not the kind of person to expect us to dress as elegantly as she and her daughter do. I would advise you to put on whatever is best among your clothes. Nothing more than that is needed at all. Lady Catherine does not think less of you for wearing plain clothes. She likes to see the difference in rank kept in its place."

While they were dressing, he came to each of their doors two or three times. This was to urge them to hurry. Lady Catherine, he said, hated to be kept waiting for dinner. Hearing such frightening things about her and her way of life, Maria Lucas, who was hardly used to society, grew completely frightened. She waited for her first introduction at Rosings with as much dread as her father had felt when he was presented at St. James's court.

The weather was fine, and they walked across the park for about half a mile, enjoying themselves. There was always some pretty spot or fine view to be found somewhere in the park. Elizabeth saw much that pleased her. But she could not feel as delighted as Mr. Collins wished. He counted out the windows on the front of the house one by one and told her how much Sir Lewis de Bourgh had originally spent on all the glass, but none of it moved her much.

As they climbed the steps to the entrance, Maria's fear grew greater and greater. Even Sir William did not look entirely calm. Elizabeth's courage did not waver. She had never heard that Lady Catherine had any remarkable talent or miraculous virtue that made her a person to fear. She thought she could face without fear whatever awe was owed to mere wealth and rank.

On entering the hall, Mr. Collins pointed out its fine proportions and its delicate ornaments with a look of delight. Then the party followed the servants through an antechamber into the room where Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Lady Catherine rose to receive them with great graciousness. Mrs. Collins had arranged beforehand with her husband that she would make the introductions herself. So everything was properly introduced without all the apologies and thanks he would have thought necessary.

Sir William, though he had once been presented at St. James's, was completely overwhelmed by the grandeur around him. He could manage only a deep bow, and had the courage to sit down without saying a single word. His daughter was frightened almost out of her senses. She sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing where to look. Elizabeth felt quite equal to the situation. She calmly studied the three ladies before her. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman. Her features were strongly marked, and she might once have been handsome. Her manner was not one that put people at ease. The way she received her guests did not let them forget that they were beneath her in rank. She was not the sort of person who overawed others with silence. But whatever she said was spoken in a commanding tone that showed her own importance. So Elizabeth was soon reminded of Mr. Wickham. Watching her all through that day, Elizabeth came to believe that Lady Catherine was exactly the person Wickham had described.

Elizabeth studied the mother first. She found some likeness to Mr. Darcy in her face and manner. Then, turning her eyes to the daughter, she nearly agreed with Maria's surprise at how thin and small she was. The two ladies were alike in neither figure nor face. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly. She was not ugly, but her features had nothing remarkable about them. She barely spoke, except to say something in a low voice to Mrs. Jenkinson, who had nothing striking about her at all. Mrs. Jenkinson listened to her and was wholly taken up with placing the screen just right to shield Miss de Bourgh's eyes.

After sitting a few minutes, they were all directed to one of the windows to admire the view. Mr. Collins went with them and pointed out its beauties. Lady Catherine kindly told them it was much better worth seeing in summer.

Dinner was very splendid. All the servants and all the silver plate that Mr. Collins had promised were there. Just as he had foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by Lady Catherine's wish. He seemed to feel that nothing greater could happen to him in life. He carved, and ate, and praised everything with delighted eagerness. Every dish was praised first by him, and then by Sir William. Sir William, now fully recovered, echoed whatever his son-in-law said. Elizabeth wondered how Lady Catherine could bear such behavior. But Lady Catherine seemed pleased by their excessive admiration. She even gave the most gracious smiles. This was especially true whenever some dish on the table turned out to be new to them. The party did not have much conversation. Elizabeth was ready to speak whenever a chance came. But she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh. Charlotte was busy listening to Lady Catherine, and Miss de Bourgh did not say a single word to her the whole evening. Mrs. Jenkinson was mostly occupied in watching how little Miss de Bourgh ate. She urged her to try other dishes and worried that she might be unwell. Maria thought it was unthinkable even to speak. The gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.

When the ladies returned to the drawing room, there was little to do but listen to Lady Catherine talk. She talked without a moment's pause until the coffee came. She gave her opinion on every subject so decidedly. This meant she was not used to having her judgment questioned. She questioned Charlotte about her household affairs in great and unashamed detail, and gave endless advice on how to manage everything. She told her how everything ought to be ordered in so small a household as Charlotte's. She also taught her how to care for cows and poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was too small for this great lady, so long as she had a chance to direct someone. Between her talks with Mrs. Collins, she also asked Maria and Elizabeth various questions. She asked Elizabeth the most, since she knew the least about her family. She told Mrs. Collins that Elizabeth seemed a very genteel, rather pretty girl. Lady Catherine asked how many sisters she had, whether they were older or younger, whether any of them were likely to marry, whether they were pretty, and where they had been educated. She asked, in turn, what kind of carriage her father kept and what her mother's maiden name had been. Elizabeth felt how impertinent these questions were. Still, she answered very calmly. Then Lady Catherine said,

"Your father's estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I believe? For your sake," — she turned to Charlotte — "I am glad of it. But otherwise I see no reason why estates should be entailed away from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh's family. Miss Bennet, do you play the piano and sing?"

"A little."

"Ah, then someday we shall be glad to hear you. Our instrument is a very fine one. It is probably superior to… well, you must try it sometime. Do your sisters play and sing too?"

"One of them does."

"Why did not all of you learn? You all ought to have learned. The Miss Webbs all play. Their father's income is not as good as your father's, either. Do you draw?"

"No, not at all."

"What, none of you?"

"Not one."

"That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for masters."

"My mother would not have objected, but my father hates London."

"Has your governess left you?"

"We never had a governess."

"No governess! How could that be? Five daughters brought up at home with no governess at all! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have worked like a slave to teach you."

Elizabeth could hardly keep from smiling as she said it was not so.

"Then who taught you? Who looked after you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected."

"I believe that was so, compared with some families. But those of us who wanted to learn were never without the means to do it. We were always encouraged to read. We could have any masters we needed. Anyone who chose to be idle, of course, could be."

"Yes, no doubt. But that is exactly what a governess would prevent. If I had known your mother, I would have advised her very strongly to engage one. I always say that nothing can be accomplished in education without steady, regular instruction. Only a governess can give that kind of instruction. It is astonishing how many families I have found governesses for in this way. I am always glad to help a young person into a good situation. Four of Mrs. Jenkinson's nieces are most delightfully placed, thanks to me. Only a few days ago, I recommended a young woman who happened to be mentioned to me. The family is extremely pleased with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you that Lady Metcalfe called yesterday to give her thanks? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. 'Lady Catherine,' the lady said, 'you have given me a treasure.' Miss Bennet, have any of your younger sisters come out into society?"

"Yes, all of them have."

"All! What, all five out at once? How very strange! You are only the second. The younger ones out before the elder are married! Your younger sisters must be very young?"

"Yes, my youngest is not yet sixteen. Perhaps she is too young to be out in company very often. But truly, I think it would be very hard on the younger ones if they could not have their share of society and amusement, just because the elder ones happen to have neither the means nor the wish to marry early. The youngest has as much right to the pleasures of youth as the eldest. To be kept back for such a reason! It does not seem likely to do much for sisterly affection or delicacy of mind, either."

"Upon my word," said Lady Catherine, "you give your opinion very decidedly for someone so young. Pray, what is your age?"

"With three grown-up younger sisters," Elizabeth answered, smiling, "your ladyship can hardly expect me to tell it."

Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer. Elizabeth guessed that she must be the first person who had ever dared to laugh off such dignified impertinence.

"You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, so there is no need to hide your age."

"I am not yet one-and-twenty."

When the gentlemen had joined them and tea was over, the card tables were set out. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat down to Quadrille. Miss de Bourgh chose to play cassino. So the two young ladies had the honor of joining Mrs. Jenkinson to make up the number of players. Their table was as dull as could be. Hardly a word was spoken that had nothing to do with the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson worried whether Miss de Bourgh was too warm or too cold, or whether the light was too strong or too dim. Much more was said at the other table. Lady Catherine did most of the talking. She pointed out the mistakes of the other three, or told stories about herself. Mr. Collins agreed with everything she said. He thanked her every time he won a point, and was busy apologizing whenever he thought he had won too many. Sir William did not say much. He was storing away anecdotes and the names of the nobility in his memory.

When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they wished, the tables were cleared. The offer of the carriage was made to Mrs. Collins. She accepted it gratefully, and orders were given at once to have it made ready. The party gathered round the fire to hear Lady Catherine settle what the weather would be like the next day. They were called away from this by the arrival of the carriage. With many thanks from Mr. Collins and as many bows from Sir William, they took their leave. As soon as the carriage had left the door, Mr. Collins asked Elizabeth for her opinion of all she had seen at Rosings. For Charlotte's sake, Elizabeth made her account more favorable than it really was. But though she took some trouble to praise it, she could not satisfy Mr. Collins. He soon had to take up the praise of Lady Catherine himself.