Page 97 of Colour My World
“As we are family”—the last word edged with frost— “we shall forego separation. Girls?” She motioned sharply towards the door.
Elizabeth followed Jane. She sensed Mary behind her.
As they withdrew, skirts whispering across the floor, Elizabeth heard her father.
“Let us continue with brandy and pleasant company.”
Another Lady Catherine declaration delayed.
She stifled a cough behind her hand, recognising the signs. Mr Collins, now seated at the far side of the room, had become the evening’s entertainment.
At the sideboard, Mr Bennet poured two measures. He handed one to Mr Collins with ceremony. The man beamed.
“Now, Mr Collins,” he said, easing into his chair, “you must permit us the pleasure of your discourse. An evening such as thiswould be wasted without the wisdom of Rosings Park.”
“Indeed, sir. A most singular honour to be regarded. I flatter myself that Lady Catherine's guidance has equipped me with an understanding of many matters: spiritual, social, and otherwise.”
Mr Bennet inclined his head. “No doubt. I am most curious to hear more of Lady Catherine's views on the kingdom.”
“Her Ladyship holds a most decided view on the failings of the lower classes. Indeed, just before my departure, she was lamenting the laxity of discipline amongst tenant families.”
“Fascinating.” Mr Bennet sipped his libation. “Did she offer any solutions?”
“She believes moral instruction should be compulsory. A parish must not only lead but govern.”
Mr Bennet nodded. “And that duty, naturally, falls to men of sound judgement.”
“Precisely, sir!” Collins raised his glass.
Elizabeth coughed. Jane stared into her teacup. Mary pressed her lips together.
Mr Bennet swirled his glass. “I am intrigued by Lady Catherine’s unparalleled wisdom. Tell me, has she solved the matter of free thought? I find it most irksome.”
Mr Collins blinked. “Free thought, sir?”
“Yes, the plague of independent reasoning among the populace. It seems to me that if one allows the lower orders too much latitude, they begin to expect it. A dangerous precedent.”
“A most perilous state, indeed! And Her Ladyship warns against such laxity, for it leads only to dissent.”
Bennet sighed. “A troubling prospect. And what of the clergy? Are they to lead or merely follow?”
“A clergyman must be both a guide and an instrument of his betters.”
“An instrument, indeed. And tell me, Mr Collins, does LadyCatherine play you as a harpsichord or a fiddle?”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together.
Mr Collins, his glass nearly empty, nodded along, oblivious. “Her Ladyship plays only the grandest symphony of propriety and duty.”
“A symphony, you say? Such harmonious compositions must have an audience.”
“An audience?” He chewed on the word. “Indeed. Her daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive properties.”
“Then she is better off than many girls. Is she as handsome as my girls?” Mrs Bennet asked.
He smiled widely. “She is. She is. Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the most handsome of her sex because there is that in her features which marks the young lady of distinguished birth.”
“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court?”
