Chapter 28. Arrival at Hunsford Parsonage

Every object in the next day's journey was new and interesting to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state for 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.

A tiny travelling chaise approaches the lane to Hunsford beneath a pale March sky.

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 paling of Rosings Park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.

In the chaise, Elizabeth, Maria and Sir William search the Hunsford lane for the Parsonage

Elizabeth’s private smile catches the amused curiosity stirred by Rosings Park’s passing boundary.

At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, every thing 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 manners 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 enquiries 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.

Charlotte and Mr. Collins come down the walk as Elizabeth, Maria and Sir William arrive

Charlotte takes Elizabeth’s hands at the garden gate with an affectionate smile.

Mr. Collins prolongs Elizabeth’s arrival with ceremonious enquiries after her family.

Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help 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 every thing 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 any thing of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or 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 his 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 trees there were in the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which the country, or the 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.

Collins addresses Elizabeth with self-satisfied formality, displaying the comforts she declined.

Elizabeth glances at Charlotte to see her response to her husband's self-importance

Charlotte pours tea with steady hands while her husband displays the parlour beyond the frame.

Charlotte praises gardening as healthy while Elizabeth sees her practical wisdom

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 shewing it without her husband's help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and every thing 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 a great air of comfort throughout, and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten.

Mr. Collins points proudly toward Rosings as Sir William follows his gesture.

Charlotte quietly welcomes Elizabeth and Maria into her neatly arranged home.

Charlotte smooths a cushion in her orderly drawing-room while Elizabeth watches.

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,

Charlotte’s orderly dining-parlour gathers the five diners in warm candlelight.

"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. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has several."

Collins solemnly presents Lady Catherine’s notice as an honour awaiting Elizabeth.

Collins describes Lady Catherine's carriage as a distinction for himself and Charlotte

Collins punctuates his correction with a rigid forefinger above his dinner plate.

"Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed," added Charlotte, "and a most attentive neighbour."

Charlotte calmly moderates her husband's praise of Lady Catherine.

"Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference."

The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and telling again what had been already written; and when it closed, Elizabeth in the solitude of her chamber had to meditate upon Charlotte's degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, and composure in bearing with her husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.

Elizabeth reflects by candlelight on Charlotte’s skill in making her marriage comfortable.

Alone in her chamber at Hunsford, Elizabeth considers Charlotte’s marriage with reluctant respect.

A low-burning candle lights the basin and ewer in Elizabeth’s chamber.

About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in confusion; and after listening a moment, she heard somebody running up stairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door, and met Maria in the landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out,

Elizabeth pauses at her open chamber door, glove half on, listening to commotion below

"Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment."

Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more, and down they ran into the dining-room, which fronted the lane, in quest of this wonder; it was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden gate.

Maria’s breathless excitement draws Elizabeth to the dining-room window.

"And is this all?" cried Elizabeth. "I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter!"

Elizabeth’s amused exclamation punctures Maria’s excitement at the window.

Elizabeth laughs at Maria’s breathless excitement over the visitors at the gate.

"La! my dear," said Maria quite shocked at the mistake, "it is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!"

Maria turns from the window to correct Elizabeth, her earnest astonishment supplying a comic beat.

Anne de Bourgh sits bundled in the low phaeton as Mrs. Jenkinson tucks the rug beside her

"She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in?"

Elizabeth objects to Charlotte kept in the wind; Maria defers eagerly to Miss de Bourgh

"Oh! Charlotte says, she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours when Miss De Bourgh comes in."

"I like her appearance," said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. "She looks sickly and cross.—Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife."

At the parsonage window, Elizabeth appraises Miss de Bourgh and imagines her wed to Darcy

Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth's high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that way.

Sir William turns the modest doorway of Hunsford Parsonage into a stage for his repeated homage.

At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.

Anne’s phaeton recedes along the lane as Charlotte and Collins return toward the parsonage.

At the parsonage doorway, Mr. Collins beams as Charlotte explains tomorrow’s invitation to Rosings.

The visitors have gone in, leaving Hunsford Parsonage's closed gate and lane to the wind