A Letter From Mr Collins

The Library

"Please, let us proceed next door." Mr Collins gestured with enthusiasm.

A chill of excitement ran through Mary's legs as she left her chair for the door.

"Dinner was exceptional, thank you." She nodded at Charlotte.

"I'm glad to hear it was to your liking," Mrs Collins smiled. "Oh, don't forget, we go for a walk in but an hour, dear." She added to Mr Collins, who replied in confirmation.

...

"...I am glad to have finished my most recent book of study this evening, for now I have a convenient space for your suggestions, which I have no doubt, will be of most beneficial value." Mary remarked with a glow, as they made their way into the library.

"Your schedule does you credit, cousin!" Mr Collins replied with vehemence.

"I do prefer to keep a clear path towards my educational objectives." She replied, with a brief flare of redness - just as her eyes met the bespoke rows of book-shelves layered upon the olive walls. Mary in fact smelled this room before she saw it, the deep scent of mahogany, and old pages was intoxicating. "Why... I had not foreseen a library so handsomely finished."

She wondered past lines and lines of books, running her fingers flirtatiously across the leathered spines of each as she subconsciously nodded at Mr Collins's profuse words of praise upon the historical influence towards the design of these Swedish shelvings and Danish frames.

"...Though the engineering in structure the Swedish provided was singular and unique in every quality -" He continued until he heard Mary interrupt with a low gasp. "I should like to hear, what have you found, Cousin?"

"You own a copy of To Own What Conceived? First edition - I hardly believe my eyes! For this novel is rare, rare indeed." She gushed uncharacteristically, admiring a large brown leather-back embellished with the most intricate copper motif.

"Ah! I see you have discovered one of my finest relics, verily - I am fortunate to be aqquainted with Lady Catherine De Bourgh's scribe - Mr Joseph Wilson, for he introduced me to a novelist friend commonly connected with The Jacob Painter himself!" Mr Collins rushed passionately, he was about to resume but Mary had clearly not finished either and apparently, had touched upon another rarity.

"...How had you not mentioned before? Oh - it cannot be. This... Cousin Collins, do you posses Wilted Conscience by Christopher Thatcher in the same library? I... I fail to fathom it." The rarer matter was Mary Bennet's inability to contain her feeling. While Mr Collins was also besides himself with pride, a glisten of ecstacy beaconed from his eye, and this Mary did not fail to notice even in her current state.

She stepped towards him.

"Truely, you have pruned such a haven of intellect and I can see, it may not be appreciated my everyone, but I, I Cousin, am truely blown away with what I witness from my eyes for academia; such restorement of the most enriching pieces of knowledge and collection of philosophy," she breathed. Then stretched a hand towards his arm, Mr Collins was glued to the ground where he stood, undecided jubilation apparent upon his expression. "William... do not dispai- "

There was a most abrupt knock at the door.