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Chapter 12

Mr. Collins wasted no time in relating his notion of being introduced to the neighbours. Lydia objected, declaring that they had already determined to walk into Meryton to visit the shops and their Aunt Phillips, but this was easily overcome as the Lucases lived along the way to Meryton. The young Bennets were in no hurry to inflict the pompous man upon their neighbours, but could not politely refuse. Whether from a wish to shield their acquaintances from his absurdities, or because they had already intended such a visit, each of the five Bennet daughters agreed to accompany their cousin.

The day was pleasant, cool but not yet requiring more than long sleeves for warmth, and the walk might have been a pleasant one, had Mr. Collins not spoken unceasingly of his patroness and the honour it would be for his future wife to know such a great lady. It was a great relief when they entered Meryton, as shops and acquaintances provided respite. The younger two Bennets paid him no more attention at all. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall them.

But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was none other than Mr. Denny, who had been Lydia and Kitty’s sole object in coming to Meryton, as he was only just returned from London. He bowed as they passed and said something to the stranger beside him. Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to meet the stranger, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot.

Mr. Denny addressed them and requested leave to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, whom he had met in town and, he was happy to add, had accepted a commission in their corps. This was as it ought to be. Mr. Wickham had all the best parts of beauty, countenance, and manners. He needed only regimentals to be completely charming. Mr. Wickham had a happy readiness of conversation, somehow making even Mr. Collins’s replies to his questions more bearable. The entire party was standing and talking together most agreeably for a good while until the sound of horses approaching drew their notice. Upon looking to see the identity of the riders, they found Darcy and Bingley riding down the street.

On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn, so he might inquire after her. Mr. Darcy bowed in agreement.

Determined not even to look towards Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy directed his eyes towards the gentlemen, only to find himself confronted with a most unpleasant sight. Mr. Wickham noticed Darcy at the same moment. Elizabeth was near enough to both to witness the exchange as Mr. Wickham turned white and Darcy red. They stared at each other in silence and shock, until finally Mr. Wickham touched his hat. Mr. Darcy hesitated. Elizabeth thought he was not going to return the gesture, but eventually he lifted his hand to mimic the motion, although not looking at the man as he did so.

Elizabeth longed to know the meaning of the exchange, for she was certain there was a history between the two men. It was impossible to imagine what it might be, and similarly impossible not to long to know. It made her most uneasy, especially given what she knew of Mr. Darcy’s good judgement, to find herself continuing in the company of Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham after Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy left them, as the gentlemen would walk them to their aunt’s home.

“You must come in and meet our Aunt Phillips!” Lydia said to them as they approached the residence.

“I thank you for your most generous invitation, Miss Lydia,” said Mr. Denny, “but we have only a half-day of leave and many tasks to accomplish.”

“Oh, but sirs!” came Mrs. Phillips’s voice from the window. “You can surely come in for a cup of tea. It will take but a moment!”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth said softly, “we must let the gentlemen attend to their duties. I am sure, having just arrived, Mr. Wickham has a great deal to see to.”

“Indeed, Miss Elizabeth. Were it any other day, I should be most happy to take tea and be introduced to your aunt.” Mr. Wickham bowed in her direction.

This response pleased Mrs. Phillips well enough, although Lydia did not refrain from repeating the invitation twice more before the gentlemen took leave of them and the rest entered the house. Mrs. Phillips was glad to see her nieces, especially the two eldest, given their recent absence. “I am ever so pleased to see colour in your cheeks, dear Jane. From what your mother says, you were quite severely ill.”

“I thank you, Aunt. I am very well recovered, in no small part thanks to Lizzy’s nursing.”

“It speaks well of your family that there is so much affection between sisters and such abilities that one might be of use. I do hope all of you have been thus trained in caregiving,” Mr. Collins interjected, despite having not yet been introduced to his hostess.

This was quickly remedied. Mrs. Phillips received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with an even greater display of it. He apologised for his intrusion, having no previous acquaintance with her, but flattered himself that his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him might serve as justification. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding, but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew: that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s commission in the militia. She had seen him often that day walking up and down the street with Mr. Denny or another officer, but unluckily, now the only officers who passed by were rather disagreeable-looking in comparison.

Mrs. Phillips was to host a card party the following evening, and it took only a hint from her youngest niece for her to promise to have her husband invite the officers as well. The promised delights of lottery tickets and a bit of hot supper did much to improve the mood, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. Collins repeated his apologies on quitting the room and was assured with unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless.

The half-mile walk to Lucas Lodge was filled with Mr. Collins’s effusive comments about Mrs. Phillips’s charming manners, as he compared her favourably to Lady Catherine and her daughter, though always emphasising that she did not surpass them, of course.

When they came near to Lucas Lodge, the first of the family they saw was also the youngest, Jonah, followed very shortly by Miss Lucas, who was calling after him. The child seemed quite pleased that he had escaped from the house, and was therefore disappointed to be caught up in the arms of his sister’s friend. He squirmed and made to run, but Mary placed herself in his path, holding him firmly by the hand until they came near enough to Charlotte that he could be returned to his sister. Unable to curtsy with her sibling in her arms, Charlotte smiled politely and greeted her visitors, then requested an introduction to the stranger with them.

“Miss Lucas, this is Mr. Collins,” said Jane. “Mr. Collins, Miss Lucas, and Master Jonah Lucas.”

Mr. Collins made a sweeping bow that might have seemed theatrical from another man. “Miss Lucas, it is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have heard much of you and your fine family.”

“Thank you, Mr. Collins,” Charlotte replied, directing a questioning look towards Elizabeth. “Jonah, say, ‘How do you do?’ to Mr. Collins.”

Jonah did not do as requested, so busy was he attempting to free himself once again.

“Miss Lucas, you allow the child to refuse to do as requested?” asked Mr. Collins.

“Mr. Collins,” Miss Lucas replied, as she directed the party towards the house, “he is but four years old, has missed his nap, and is quite out of temper. I find it better not to contend with a tired child over such matters. His humour will be much improved after he has rested.”

Mr. Collins, disliking this response, did not scruple to explain his own views on the subject of child-rearing, which he delivered with all the authority of a man with neither children nor experience. Only when they entered Lucas Lodge’s drawing-room did he discontinue his discourse.

Jonah was given into the care of a servant with instructions that he was to be put down for a nap, regardless of his protestations that he was not tired. Introductions between Mr. Collins and Sir William were then made, and pleasantries were exchanged with much civility. The former was pleased to discover in his new acquaintance a man of geniality and good taste, which was confirmed by his reverent response to Mr. Collins’s descriptions of Rosings Park and Lady Catherine’s generosity and condescension. This perception altered, however, once the conversation turned to more local matters.

“As we do not have a lady so grand in our area of the country,” said Sir William, “we also must do what we can for the poor. The Bennets, the Morgans, the Gouldings, and my family coordinate much of the work, but all contribute to the cause.”

“The poor?” asked Mr. Collins. “I assumed that when you spoke of Lady Catherine’s great generosity and condescension, you were speaking of her help towards your parish. After all, you would be best in a position to know how she serves her people.”