Page 30 of Mr Collins in Love
“Yes.Your reasoning is quite sound.”
“Sound!I am a monster.An unfeeling monster.”
“You trouble yourself with what might have been, which I think is your true error.The past is not ours to rearrange and there can be no profit in doing so.But you are not a monster, Miss Polkington.You are quite right.Things would have been better for a great many people if Miss Patricia had died.It would have been a tragedy, certainly, but it would not have had such dire consequences.As it is, you and your family will suffer all your lives for your sister’s transgression, and I expect she is suffering too.If we weigh all that suffering with the suffering you would have had if she had died, well, I think it is likely that her death would have been preferable.”
She was staring at me, mouth ajar.She looked very silly, but of course I should not tell her so.
“If anything, you are to be commended, I think, Miss Polkington, for your clear-sighted view of the matter.It is not good to lie to oneself, is it?”
“I…no, sir?”
“No.So let us have no more of this ‘monster’ nonsense.You are just a young female who has had a disappointment, and a cruel one at that.But there is no need to drown yourself for wishing your sister dead.Indeed, I am sure that many in such a position might have wished the same.Instead, you must forgive yourself and resolve to make the best of things.Now, come, you do not really wish to carry all those stones all the way back to Hunsford, do you?”
She began to turn out her pockets.About half-way through the job, she began to weep again, with such ferocity I thought all my arguments had been in vain.I said ‘come, come’ and ‘there, there’ and presently she ceased weeping and finished emptying her pockets.I gave her my handkerchief and she washed and dried her face at the edge of the lake.Then we set off for Hunsford.
I had a terrible headache from the strain and did not think I could bear to make conversation.However, with Herculean effort, I began to point out landmarks and to discuss the recent hop harvest and other suitable topics.
She said very little until we came to the lane which led to her father’s house.Here she bade me farewell, and then, of a sudden, grabbed my hand and said, “Thank you, Mr Collins.God sent you to me today, I see that now.I will do as you have said, sir, and give thanks to Him my whole life and pray for my sister and do good works, sir.I promise it.”
“Oh yes, God.”I realised that I had omitted to mention him, which was surely a mistake.It was just so difficult to remember all the pertinent details when I was so exhausted and so heavy with the knowledge that Jem and I were no longer in such sympathy as we once had been.“Yes, yes.Excellent.God.Prayers.Good works.Very good, Miss Polkington.”
“And I will pray for Mr Barson too,” she added, in a low voice, “That he may make a good match soon and be happy.”
She curtseyed and went off down the lane.I paused long enough to make a note in my little book regarding the likelihood of certain family members wishing errant sisters dead in such circumstances, and the advisability of a clergyman acknowledging that fact so that worse did not follow.Then, duty done, I plodded home to Jem.
I found him at the bottom of the nuttery field where he had been digging out a rotting stump.It was a big job and he had nearly finished.He must have worked hard all afternoon to do so much.
He leant on his spade when he saw me, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow.The blackbird was at his feet, pert as ever, poking about for grubs.I had not known it was possible to be jealous of a bird.
“Are you still angry?”I asked.
He shook his head.
“It matters to you, though, doesn’t it?”I said, “What we do by the brook.”
“Don’t it to you?”
“Yes, but I should rather forego it and know you were safe and well.”
He sighed and leaned more heavily upon his spade.I had seldom seen him look so grave.
“I still don’t see why we should forego it, though, just because I am married,” I added.“I promise to do all in my power to ensure she is happy and comfortable.If she wishes to read novels or…collect ferns…or trim her bonnets, I shall not gainsay her such pleasures, so why should I gainsay myself?”
His eyebrows rose.“You’re comparing what we do down there with collecting ferns?”
“Yes.”
“Ain’t really the same though, are they?”
“Aren’t they?”I considered his point, but the more I thought about it, the more similar they seemed.Perhaps it was the detail that was confusing him.“I am not especially interested in ferns myself, it is true, but if I substitute ‘growing potatoes’ then I think the two are very similar.”
“Growing potatoes.”He was looking at me sideways, but I could see that somehow his mood had miraculously shifted.He was smiling, almost.
“Well, yes,” I said.“Because both take place out of doors and both in your company.And both make me happy, and I think I should never grow tired of either.So, yes, I think them very comparable.”
He gave a bark of laughter, after which he seemed unable to stop smiling and shaking his head.I smiled because he did.
He said, “You are a cure and no mistake.”
