Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 23

Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on

what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to

mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his

daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many

compliments to them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect

of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter--to

an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs.

Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he

must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and

often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:

"Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not

you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?"

Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have

borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William's good

breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave

to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened

to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.

Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so

unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his

account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte

herself; and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her

mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to

Sir William, in which she was readily joined by Jane, and by

making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be

expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins,

and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.

Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great

deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them

than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she

persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she

was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she

trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly,

that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however,

were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Elizabeth was

the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she herself had

been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points

she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could

console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear

out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see

Elizabeth without scolding her, a month passed away before she

could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude,