March 7
My dear Bingley,
I knew of Mr Collins’s marriage, as you surmised. Hurst heard something of it as we left Netherfield and he happened to mention it to me. It seems that Mr Collins proposed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet at first but was refused and then found more favour with her friend. He is fortunate in his wife, I think—I remember Miss Lucas as being a sensible young woman.
I have given the living of Kympton to Grayson’s protégé, Mark Haydock. I heard him preach as part of his duties as the curate of Highwater, and my aunt invited him to Fitzwater Park so that I could see something more of him. He is young, intelligent, sensible and committed to the church, whilst understanding the foibles of human nature and being prepared to encounter them in all their forms. He is popular with the people hereabouts as he does not preach, unless it is from the pulpit, and yet he sets a good example in his daily life. He attracts a great deal of attention from the ladies, as he has a handsome face but he does not trade on it. I think he will do very well.
Darcy
Mr Mark Haydock to Mrs Haydock
Cumbria, March 7
Mama, I have had a piece of astonishing good fortune. The Fitzwilliams have guests and one of them is a cousin of theirs, a Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. He happened to need a rector for one of his livings and I was recommended to him. In short, he has given me the living! It is a great thing for me, a very great thing indeed, the kind of preferment I could only dream of. The living is a handsome one and, from all I hear, the rectory is a fine house in large gardens. Mr Darcy himself is an imposing gentleman. I was nervous of him at first, although he is not many years older than I am, for he has an air of pride about him, but once I began to know him, I found him to be intelligent and—I will not say agreeable, for he remained aloof throughout our meetings—but at least not disagreeable. I think I have been very lucky and I have given thanks for it, you may be sure.
I am to travel to Derbyshire at the end of March and take up my duties shortly thereafter. I will write to you when I have any more news.
Your loving son,
Matthew
Mrs Charlotte Collins to Miss Elizabeth Bennet
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,
March 10
Dear Eliza,
The daffodils are out and the banks outside the parsonage are covered in them. Mr Collins has spent the morning digging up some of the bulbs and moving them around the garden, a healthy recreation which I have encouraged, though I believe they looked prettier where they were.
He is a little out of sorts at the moment. When we went to Rosings Park for dinner last night, Lady Catherine happened to mention that her nephew, Mr Darcy, had been looking for a new vicar to fill the living of Kympton and I could tell that Mr Collins hoped he might be given it, for it would have meant an extra two hundred pounds a year. He began to say that he had been most impressed with Mr Darcy when he met him at Netherfield, and that it would be an honour to serve such a bountiful man, but hardly were the words out of his mouth than Lady Catherine finished by saying that Mr Darcy had already appointed a Mr Haydock. Mr Collins was disappointed, I could see, but he immediately remarked that he was sure a nephew of Lady Catherine’s could never appoint anyone unworthy to such an important position, and to console himself with the fact that Mr Darcy may have other livings to give.
I hope you have not forgotten your promise to visit me. I miss you, Eliza, and I look forward to seeing you and to showing you my new home. My father and sister are to set out on the twenty-third and you promised to be one of the party, you know. Indeed, I quite rely upon it. We are unlikely to leave Kent for some time, Mr Collins being unable to leave his duties, and I would like to remind myself of my Hertfordshire life and Hertfordshire friends.
Your friend,
Charlotte
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Charlotte Collins
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
March 15
My dear Charlotte,
How can I refuse you? Besides, I am looking forward to seeing you again. The arrangements have all been made, and even improved, for now we are all to stay with my aunt and uncle for a night on our way down to Kent. We will be leaving Longbourn on the twenty-third and as it is only twenty-four miles, there will be plenty of time for us to spend the morning shopping and the evening at the theatre before we leave again. We will be with you by the twenty-fourth.
I am longing to see Jane again. She writes to me often but although she takes great pains to make sure her letters are cheerful, and although I know she loves being with our aunt and uncle and our troop of little cousins, I know she still misses Mr Bingley. That odious Caroline! She has deliberately separated them, I am sure of it, and that odious Mr Darcy! He is as bad as Caroline, if not worse. Who are they to decide how Jane and Bingley shall be happy? What business is it of theirs? And now Jane is pining for him. I hear it in her letters, for try as she might she cannot make them as lighthearted as they once were. But I console myself that I will be with her again soon and then I will be able to better judge how far she is from recovery.
I must confess that, quite apart from the joy of seeing you and Jane again, I will not be sorry to get away from home. Mary practises the pianoforte, very loudly, for hours every day and my only escape is to go for a walk; which, as the weather is cold and wet, brings me no pleasure. Kitty and Lydia are worse than ever. Colonel Forster’s new wife is very young and just as silly as my sisters, and she is always having parties where they dress up and make a lot of noise, laughing with the officers. Officers are all very well, but I confess since the loss of the attentions of one, the others hold very little interest for me.
He is still friendly, still attentive, but in a different way. He makes it clear by small words and looks and gestures that he is not free to marry as he will, and I understand him perfectly. We are still very much of one mind on most things, however, and, whether married or single, he must always be my model of the amiable and pleasing. It is perhaps a good thing, then, that I am to go away, for it cannot be long before he marries Miss King and I would rather not be here when the wedding takes place.
Your friend,
Lizzy
Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
March 23
Most noble Friend,
My sister Jane is in London still and my sister Elizabeth has left for Kent, which means that I can practise on the pianoforte for hours together without any interruption. To be sure, Mama says my playing gives her a headache and Papa asks if I would not rather be outdoors, and Kitty cries whenever I approach the instrument, but these are no more than the ordinary obstacles which fall into the path of the Learned Woman.
Mr Shackleton agrees with me. I discussed the matter with him this evening, when we both dined with my aunt Philips, and he said that the lives of the great were always fraught with difficulty.
I was prevailed upon to play the pianoforte after dinner. I was just embarking on my second sonnata when I was alarmed to find Mr Shackleton’s arm around me. He was shocked when I reproved him and said that I had mistaken his motives entirely, explaining that he had merely been reaching round me to turn over the pages of my music.
Harmony was restored, as I remarked to him as I embarked on a third sonnata, and he laughed at my witticism and said that I should make a note of it in my book of extracts. I have duly done so. My only regret is that no one ever reads the book. I am sure my sisters would benefit from it, for it would be sure to impart learning and wisdom to anyone who opened its pages. I have tried to encourage Lydia and Kitty to read it, and to be sure Lydia started to do so, but she only laughed when she read that Mr Shackleton had had his hand on my knee, and Kitty was no better, saying that there should only be one n in sonnata.