Chapter 5

The day after the Netherfield Ball found Mr. Collins solidly determined to come to the point of proposing after what he saw as a very successful evening, though he did feel some concern about Mrs. Bennet's indisposition, but considering that it had not kept her from attending the ball the previous evening felt that it should be no impediment to his cause. He felt it most fortunate to find Mr. Bennet along with Mary and Elizabeth together shortly after breakfast.

"May I hope, sir, for your interest with your fair daughter Mary, when I solicit for the honor of a private audience with her in the course of this morning?" Then thinking that that might not be the proper way to go about this added. "Or perhaps I should speak with you first, sir, in order to reassure you as to my honorable intentions and reasons for requesting such an interview."

Mr. Bennet quirked an eyebrow at the man. "I think I can safely infer the topic and reserve the option of a private interview only after you have obtained the consent of my daughter for both the privacy and the ensuing question which you seem eager to ask." He looked over at Mary. "What say you, daughter? Is this agreeable to you or no? I do not press you either way."

Mary did not seem to know where to look as her cheeks flushed, but finally she said, "I believe I am agreeable, father."

"Then there is nothing more to be said." Mr. Bennet rose from his seat. "Elizabeth, if you will be willing to sit outside the door, I will be in my book room pending the successful conclusion of your inquiry." He then left the room followed by Elizabeth who gave Mary an encouraging smile as she left to sit on the chair just to the right of the half opened door, too far to hear but close enough to provide the comfort of propriety.

Once they were alone, Mr. Collins seemed somewhat unsure of what to do with himself, looking around the room before suddenly coming to sit next to Mary on the sofa. He carefully took her hand in his before speaking.

"My dear Miss Mary, I find myself at a loss in the presence of such modest perfection..." He paused as he seemed to realize the words gave off another meaning than the one he wished. "... Such perfect modesty and amiability. If I stumble, it can only be because I find myself desiring only to please in this most important of addresses, though you can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, after the plain speaking of your father. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying —and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did."

"I do not believe that is necessary, sir," Mary interrupted. "A clergyman should marry and set the example of matrimony in his parish, and with the entail it is no great mystery why you might visit this house for such a purpose."

"Once again, you show me why of all my cousins it is you with whom I have had the most pleasant of conversations. You seem to understand so well what it is I seek to say, much like the very noble lady whom I have the honor of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject..." He paused again. "She said, 'Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. —Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your learning and piety, I think, will show that you to be a woman most suited to the role of clergyman's wife.

"And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married..." He stumbled again as if he had somehow missed an important part of his speech, then with a sudden rush continued. "For as it is written in Proverbs: 'Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.'" Mr. Collins then suddenly went down on one knee before Mary. "For all these reasons but most especially that I believe this will add greatly to the happiness of us both, I ask that you make me the happiest of men and accept this humble offer of matrimony."

Mary found herself strangely moved by this proposal, more romantic than she had expected, and was moreover profoundly struck by his using the same reference as she had the day before, though she had made it in reference to her sister rather than herself. It seemed a sign of the rightness of her decision to accept him, a promise of future felicity.

Thus it was with a light heart that Mary said, "I thank you for your proposal, and I would be most pleased to accept and become your wife."

Mr. Collins beamed at her. "You have made me the happiest of men," he said. "Now I must immediately go to your father and ask him to give his blessing for our most felicitous union, so that we may soon be joined in matrimony. Hopefully at the beginning of the new year."

"So soon, Mr. Collins?" Mary asked.

"But of course," he said. "For I wish to bring my bride to my parish as expeditiously as possible. As Lady Catherine has said, every vicar needs a wife." He looked at her for a moment and then seemed to realize something. "Of course, this all depends on your own wishes, my dear. After all, you are the bride and..." He floundered about for a moment.

"January is fine," Mary said. "I know you cannot be away from your parish too long, and I have no wish for any excessive delay."

"Excellent, excellent," he said. "Now I must speak to your father, so that all things can proceed as they ought." He practically bounced to his feet before heading out the door, leaving Mary sitting on the sofa a little stunned by all that had just happened.

She could hear him humming to himself as he hastened down the hall, and she couldn't help smiling at his happiness and her own. "Oh yes, a felicitous union indeed."

~o~O~o~

Two days after the Netherfield Ball, Darcy managed to chance across Miss Elizabeth while walking between Netherfield and Longbourn. The day after the ball, Bingley had gone to Town on some business, and Darcy found himself importuned by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst who desired to close the house and follow him in the hopes of discouraging him from Miss Bennet. Having spent most of his time at the ball focusing on Miss Elizabeth, he had formed no particular opinion on Miss Bennet; she was well bred and pleasant enough and far superior to most of the other women Bingley had been infatuated with, and as he had finally decided to pursue his Bennet sister (a fact he would not mention to two people so wholly unconnected to him), he could hardly act to dissuade his friend without feeling too much the hypocrite. As it was, all he could say was that he had no intention of leaving for Town at this moment and that Bingley was a man old enough to make his decisions, and while Miss Bennet was perhaps not the most prudent choice, she was hardly so objectionable as to make him change his plans. Having had enough of them, Darcy ended up spending most of the day ensconced in the library, taking care of his correspondence and reading.

The next day, he left on an early morning walk, taking the same path that had led to him meeting with Elizabeth before the ball. Not that he truly expected to come across her, but he hoped he might. Fortune was with him that morning as he encountered her as she was walking out, and he trusted that he did not mislead himself when she indicated that she was pleased to see him or accepted his offer to accompany her on her walk.

"What brings you out so early, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked.

"A need for fresh air. I was too closely confined yesterday," he said. "And you?"

"The same, sir," she said with a slight smile. "Also feeling an excess of jubilation." After a pause seeing the interrogation in his eyes, she added, "Mr. Collins proposed to my sister Mary, and she accepted. There was much rejoicing."

"Too much?" he asked.

"It rather depends on your point of view, sir, but I certainly missed my walk."

"So you make up for it today," he said. "In that case, I thank you for allowing me to intrude upon your time."

He was sure he did not mistake the slight blush on her face when she replied, "It is no intrusion, sir."

Their conversation had been mostly inconsequential. Her mother was improving and thrilled over the engagement of her middle daughter. Bingley was expected to return within the next day or two. She had made a subtle inquiry about how long he intended to stay, which pleased him greatly, though the answer that he would be returning to Town in a couple of weeks in order to see his sister was not one he was happy to give, and from her expression it was not one that pleased her either. But then she smiled and turned the subject to books, and from thence to Shakespeare was a small step wherein they ended up in a lively debate over Much Ado About Nothing and the irony that it was the romantic Claudio who believed a trumped up story, while the cynical Benedick suspected duplicity and whether Hero deserved to be married to such an easily deceived young man who publicly humiliated her.

Before they parted he had asked her if this walk were a particular favorite of hers, and with a charming smile and a blush, she had said it was indeed and the particular path was a favorite as well, especially at this time of year. He could not stop smiling all the way back to Netherfield park, though his smile was wiped away once he entered and was faced the renewal of complaining from the Bingley sisters, for which he had even less patience than before. Once again asserting that he had no intention of either leaving before he had planned or trying to convince their brother to remain away, he made his way to his room, emerging only as much as politeness dictated.

Bingley had returned the next day, and eager as he was to return to Longbourn, they were soon on their way there, though unfortunately not escaping the accompaniment of Bingley's sisters which made the visit a nearly useless one to Darcy, as Miss Bingley made sure he had no opportunity for any even remotely private discourse with Elizabeth during the whole of the visit. However, he was pleased to discover that Elizabeth could manage to convey her interest even while trapped in a conversation that seemed doomed to be directed by Miss Bingley regardless of the wishes of either of the other parties.

Poor weather and the demands of Bingley's sisters made it impossible for them to visit Longbourn for the next couple of days. Darcy particular regretted the weather as it meant he could not even contrive to come upon Elizabeth during her walk. He was able to see her at church, but he was unable to do more than greet her politely.

On Monday morning, the weather was improved and he set out on a walk hoping to meet up with Elizabeth. Luck was again with him, and he came across her at the midway point between Netherfield and Longbourn, only to his surprise she was not alone, a strangely familiar looking small, brown dog was with her, running after a small stick she was throwing for it.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," he said, just as the dog deposited the stick at her feet. "I see you have a friend with you. Is that the dog we saw..." he trailed off as the dog started looking at him suspiciously.

"Oh, yes, this is Galahad," she said with a smile. "He belongs to Miss Lane. I am not sure if you have seen her, but she has gone on a visit to her sister's house, and her brother in law does not get along with Galahad, so he is being looked out for by her friends near by, and for some reason whenever he stays with them, he almost always manages to join me on my walks." She looked up at Darcy. "Despite what you saw, he really is a friendly fellow, a bit protective perhaps, but I truly have never seen him attack someone unprovoked." She paused for a second, considering, "Well there was that one gentleman, who turned out to be a complete reprobate with designs on Miss Lane's fortune, small though it is."

"Galahad seems quite the perceptive canine," Darcy said, "with a talent for spotting reprobates."

"Was the gentleman we saw a reprobate?" Elizabeth asked, with a slight smile. "You seemed rather familiar with him."

Darcy was taken aback for a moment though he felt that he should not have been.

At his silence Elizabeth quickly spoke again. "Forgive me. I sometimes speak out of turn. I would not pry into your private business."

If there was any woman in the world that he would gladly let into at least a portion of his private business, it was Elizabeth Bennet, and thus though he did not like to speak of Wickham, he would not discourage her interest entirely.

"No, I can understand your curiosity," he said. "After all, I am the one who brought up the subject." He took a moment more to consider. "I cannot share all of our history as some of it would affect the reputations of others and some of it is unfit for a maiden's ears, and I truly regret the fact I am aware of it."

"I am hardly a shrinking violet, prone to fits of fainting," Elizabeth said, "but naturally I will not press for more than you wish to share."

"Thank you," he said, before beginning his tale. "The gentleman, little though he deserves the term, is named George Wickham, and he was the son of my father's steward, who was an excellent man, and my father was his godfather, so as you might presume we practically grew up together which makes me far more familiar with his vices than I would wish." He sighed. "He has always had a significant amount of charm and used it to blind his elders to his misdeeds, starting with the relatively harmless ones of youth and proceeding to more..."

"Dissipated ones," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, to put it mildly. While I disassociated myself as much as possible from him, unfortunately I never felt I could expose him to my father, who provided him an education and intended him for a family living; however, my father died before Wickham took orders and Wickham asked for three thousand pounds in addition to his thousand pound inheritance in lieu of the living so that he could study law instead."

"That is quite a sum of money," Elizabeth said.

"It is indeed," Darcy said. "And yet within three years, he had spent it and suddenly desired the living he had given up."

"Which you naturally refused."

"Naturally," he said. "Though that has not stopped him spreading tales that I with malice denied him the living or otherwise impugning my character. He is quite skilled at weaving plausible tales which paint himself the victim of a jealous son."

"Now I feel even less guilty for finding amusement in the sight, and I understand your reaction as well."

"Well, I know Wickham to be very fastidious of his person, and to see him thus overset by the... elements..." Darcy could not help the smile that returned to his face at the thought.

Elizabeth bent down to pet Galahad. "You really are an excellent judge of character, you perfect, not so gentle knight."

After that Elizabeth turned the topic of conversation to other more mundane things, yet still Darcy was enchanted and looking forward to their next meeting. While the two of them spoke, Galahad moved nearer to Darcy, looking up at him curiously with his head cocked to one side. Darcy glanced down at the dog, up to Elizabeth and back down. He extended a hand and patted the animal's head a few times. In response, Galahad spun excitedly in a circle a couple of times then sat, looking at Darcy, happily wagging his tail.

"An excellent judge of character, you say?" Darcy asked, half smiling.

Elizabeth returned the smile. "Indubitably."