Every object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting
to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment; for she
had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her
health, and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant
source of delight.
When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye
was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to
bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary
on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she
had heard of its inhabitants.
At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to
the road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel
hedge, everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and
Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the
small gate which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst
the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were
all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs.
Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and
Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming when she
found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that
her cousin’s manner were not altered by his marriage; his formal
civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some
minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all
her family. They were then, with no other delay than his
pointing out the neatness of the entrance taken into the house;
and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a
second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode,
and punctually repeated all his wife’s offers of refreshment.
Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not
help in fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the
room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself
particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she had
lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat and
comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of
repentance, and rather looked with wonder at her friend that she
could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When
Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be
ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, she involuntarily
turned her eye on Charlotte. Once of twice she could discern a
faint blush; but in general Charlotte wisely did not hear. After
sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in the
room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account of
their journey, and of all that had happened in London, Mr.
Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was
large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he
attended himself. To work in this garden was one of his most
respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of
countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of
the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible.
Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and
scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked
for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left
beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every
direction, and could tell how many tress there were in the most
distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which
the country or kingdom could boast, none were to be compared
with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees
that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It
was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.
From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two
meadows; but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the
remains of a white frost, turned back; and while Sir William
accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over the
house, extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity
of showing it without her husband’s help. It was rather small,
but well built and convenient; and everything was fitted up and
arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth
gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be
forgotten, there was really an air of great comfort throughout,
and by Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed
he must be often forgotten.
She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the
country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when
Mr. Collins joining in, observed:
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady
Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I
need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability
and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured
with some portion of her notice when service is over.