A Letter From Mr Collins

The Disruption

The ambience crashed into pieces; Mary froze in unprepared infuriation, And Mr Collins took this moment to jump away from her, leaping for the door, pain and relief evident in his countenance.

"Ah - Lady Lucas! Ye - yes come, come in!" He gestured vigorously, stumbling over his every word. It was plain he had just experienced the unexperienced, and had not yet quite recovered from the striking shock.

Lady Lucas entered upon them, a pleasant smile upon her features as she surveyed the ornate library.

"My, Mr Collins, what an enchanting room you have here!"

"I - indeed," he began, but Lady Lucas spoke again before he found the energy to continue.

"I had a good mind to join you two here, I find on our last brief visit I failed to review all I had been planning in this house, and what a shame indeed! For this library in which we stand is fine! I should like to have a look around before our evening walk, what do you suggest, Mr Collins?" She inquired warmly.

"Why, we were just pondering on the famous works of Christopher Thatcher, you remember my notification when I made possession of Wilted Conscience?" He rushed. Mary was silent in bitterness, and this last response from Mr Collins had no benefit towards her mood.

"And... when was this? I say, I of all should have been quite cheerful at that news." She chided, attempting polite disbelief.

"On the Lucas's last visit, Lady Lucas very unfortunately had never the chance to inspect it."

"Why, now I should desire nothing more!" She beamed and went over to the bookstand.

"And at this moment, I should like nothing more than to join Maria in the garden," Mary announced to Mr Collins which a sarcastic beam of her own.

She seized his copy of When Time Runs Out by Benedict. H. Mason and exited the library swiftly, at Mr Collins's startlement, "why so soon? We -"

She shut the door firmly, and with eagerness, made straight for her bedroom on the edge of tears.

...

Mrs Collins, refilling a vase of Geraniums with water from a china jug, looked up at the sound of frantic footsteps.

They had just rounded the hall in time for her to miss the owner.

She abandoned the flowers and made a quick skip to the beginning of the staircase, to find Mary Bennet halfway up them, missing a step and losing her balance momentarily, catching herself on the auburn banister.

"Mary, why do you hurry?"

Mary spun her head around at once. She turned back briefly, seemingly to wipe a hand past her cheeks. When she faced Charlotte once again, they were rather pink.

"Why-" a damp sniff escape her. "I... must fetch something from upstairs," she hurried.

"Are you sure there is no matter?" Charlotte asked, with every mark of concerned display.

"Quite, but I thank you for asking." And with that Mary pivoted on her heel and returned to her distressed clamber up the stairs.

Mrs Collins observed with solicitous eyes. Then noticed the voices of her mother and Mr Collins engaged in discussion, reverberating from up the hallway in the library.

Charlotte proceeded on a light foot until she was a step from the door, she reached out to turn the handle, doing her best to be inaudible.

She peered in and saw her husband enthusing over a large brown leather-back, clinging to her mother's attention.

"Ah," Charlotte muttered to herself. "I have a feeling I pereive correctly what took place just a moment ago."

But I must be sure. She added in thought as she returned to her Geraniums.

Upstairs, Mary locked the door to the guestroom absent-mindedly as she interpreted what had just happened.

She made her way over to the bed slowly, and sat down with an irked posture.

He jumped away from me. He was glad Lady Lucas came upon us. He prefers her intellectual company.

To even think, he made announcement of one of his most prised purchases, first to Lady Lucas made her throat tighten.

Did he ever notice my perspicacity!

Mary sighed in frustration and picked up When Time Runs Out, but even this failed to preoccupy her mind.

"We all live on the hands of the clock, perched on the very edge, revolving ominously, yet we bathe in our oblivion and seek-" she cut Mason off with a snapping of the book shut.

After twenty minutes it was still no use, she could not stop thinking about what she would have to do...