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<h2> Chapter 15 </h2>
<p>Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been
but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of his life
having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father;
and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the
necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The
subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally
great humility of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by the
self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential
feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had
recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford
was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his
veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of
himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made
him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and
humility.</p>
<p>Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to
marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had a
wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found them
as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. This
was his plan of amends—of atonement—for inheriting their
father's estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility
and suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own
part.</p>
<p>His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet's lovely face confirmed
his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was due to
seniority; and for the first evening <i>she</i> was his settled choice.
The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an
hour's tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation
beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally to the avowal of
his hopes, that a mistress might be found for it at Longbourn, produced
from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a
caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. "As to her <i>younger</i>
daughters, she could not take upon her to say—she could not
positively answer—but she did not <i>know</i> of any prepossession;
her <i>eldest</i> daughter, she must just mention—she felt it
incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged."</p>
<p>Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth—and it was
soon done—done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth,
equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.</p>
<p>Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have
two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of the
day before was now high in her good graces.</p>
<p>Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister
except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, at
the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and
have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed him
after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one
of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet,
with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings
discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure
of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to
meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was used
to be free from them there; his civility, therefore, was most prompt in
inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk; and Mr. Collins,
being in fact much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely
pleased to close his large book, and go.</p>
<p>In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins,
their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of the younger
ones was then no longer to be gained by him. 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.</p>
<p>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 the very Mr.
Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he
bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger's air, all
wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to
find out, led the way across the street, under pretense 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 directly, and entreated permission to introduce
his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from
town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps.
This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only
regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in
his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good
figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his
side by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness at the same
time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still
standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses
drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen 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 on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy
corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his
eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the
stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they
looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting.
Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a
few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just
deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to
imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.</p>
<p>In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what
passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.</p>
<p>Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of Mr.
Phillip's house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia's
pressing entreaties that they should come in, and even in spite of Mrs.
Phillips's throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the
invitation.</p>
<p>Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from
their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was eagerly
expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own
carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if she
had not happened to see Mr. Jones's shop-boy in the street, who had told
her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because
the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed towards Mr.
Collins by Jane's introduction of him. She received him with her very best
politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologising for his
intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her, which he could not
help flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship
to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice. 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 ——shire. She had been
watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street,
and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have
continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed windows now except a
few of the officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become
"stupid, disagreeable fellows." Some of them were to dine with the
Phillipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call
on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from
Longbourn would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips
protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery
tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such
delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr.
Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured with
unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless.</p>
<p>As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass
between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or
both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, she could no more explain such
behaviour than her sister.</p>
<p>Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs.
Phillips's manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady
Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for
she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but even pointedly
included him in her invitation for the next evening, although utterly
unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be attributed to his
connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much attention in
the whole course of his life.</p>
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