Chapter IV

D espite a determination to put Philips, Collins, his inheritance, and other such subjects out of his mind, Bennet held to his intention to warn his daughters that evening. The girls were intelligent, as Bennet had taught them to think critically to the best of his ability. Elizabeth had taken to his instruction with more enthusiasm than her sisters, though Jane and Mary were not deficient by any means. Bennet knew they were aware of enough of their history to understand the significance of Philips's coming.

? "It is curious he came at all," said Elizabeth when Bennet explained the matter to them. "Had I considered Mr. Philips at all, I supposed he would possess more discretion than to present himself here when he has done our family such harm."

? "In all fairness," replied Bennet, "his father was Mr. Collins's conspirator, though Philips appears to be cut from the same cloth. While I, of course, never met the elder Philips, I heard enough from my father, and I have no notion he was anything other than truthful as he saw it."

? The girls nodded, and Mary asked: "What is the degree of relationship between the Philips and Collins families? I do not believe I ever heard you or Grandfather speak of it."

? Bennet nodded and sat back in his chair, considering those he had never met, but of whom he had heard so much. "The exact relationship is unknown to me," replied Bennet after a few moments of thought. "They are cousins to be certain, but how far removed I cannot say. Close enough to have intimate knowledge of each other."

? "And the connection to the Bennets?" asked Elizabeth.

? "You know something of that yourself," replied Bennet with a smile.

? Elizabeth nodded and waited for him to speak, which Bennet did at once.

? "The Collinses were a branch of the Bennet family. Or at least one part of the Collins family was. Some decades in the past, a young Bennet son married into the Collins family, assuming that family's name as part of the marriage articles. While the Collinses of Norfolk are no more, there are still Collinses living in Lincolnshire as I understand, though they are not a prominent family."

? The girls nodded and did not press the matter further. While they did not know the truth of the connections, they were familiar with the story of how the Bennets had lost Longbourn and did not need to repeat that tale. As such, Bennet turned the subject back to what he had wished to discuss.

? "It would be best," said he, again drawing their attention to him, "if you kept away from Philips and his wife. Given his audacity in coming to Longbourn to speak to me, I cannot imagine he would behave any better if he saw you on the streets of Meryton."

? "What can he do?" asked Elizabeth. "Meryton is near enough to walk should the inclination arise, but on a public street, I cannot imagine he would be so lost to good behavior as to attempt anything with one of us."

? "It would most likely damage his business," added Mary."

? "That is true," replied Bennet. "Yet I cannot forget his behavior when he braved my study. Please, girls, for my sake avoid him and do not speak to him should he address you. If he does, I wish to know about it, for I will inform him in no uncertain terms that I will not tolerate his stupidity."

? "Of course, Papa," said Jane, speaking for the first time. "We do not wish to endure Mr. Philips."

? The younger girls agreed with her, and they dropped the subject by tacit agreement.

? "Did anything else of interest come of your visits?" asked Elizabeth, as much to move beyond the objectionable subject as from any interest.

? "There is one other matter of note," replied Bennet, relieved to leave any talk of the loathsome Mr. Philips behind. "One of my callers, Sir William Lucas, has invited us to a soiree at his house Tuesday next."

? "That is curious," replied Mary. "Though I suppose it is understandable. As we are new to the neighborhood and as yet know no one, I suppose they will all wish to inspect us."

? "I dare say you are correct," said Mr. Bennet with a fond look at his youngest. "For Sir William's part, however, I suspect his motivations are more benign. Do you recall Mr. Tate in Woodborough?"

? "Who could forget Mr. Tate?" laughed Elizabeth, the others nodding. "No one who has ever visited Woodborough has ever escaped an acquaintance with that fine gentleman."

? Bennet grinned. "I suspect Sir William is of a similar character, though he also has a knighthood to prop up his words and swell his sense of importance. He is our nearest neighbor, inhabiting the estate to our southwest. We did not speak enough for me to know his history in detail, but I suspect he has not long been a gentleman."

? "So when we visit his house, we will likely witness a measure of grasping for gentlemanly behavior without attaining it."

? "Lizzy!" scolded Jane, though her grin belied her tone. "Perhaps we should make this Sir William's acquaintance before we brand him as improper."

? "I have no notion of what you speak, Jane," said Elizabeth, affecting astonishment. "I cannot imagine he and his family are anything other than amiable."

? "In fact," said Bennet, interrupting their banter, "I suspect Elizabeth's expectations are accurate, though I will note that I know no harm of Sir William."

? "But Papa," said Mary, a note of disingenuousness in her tone, "as we also recently rose to the landed class of late, I suspect others will look upon us in much the same way."

? "Ah, but I raised you all among gentlefolk. My father educated me as a gentleman to the best of his ability, and I taught you as well as I could."

? "I cannot imagine anyone will find anything amiss with our behavior," said Jane with a frown.

? Bennet nodded at his eldest. "No, I have no concerns on that score. Of particular interest regarding the Lucas family is Sir William's assertion that he has a daughter. He did not confide her age to me, but I expect she is of age with the three of you."

? "We shall be happy to make her acquaintance, Papa," replied Elizabeth. "Perhaps I may find a friend here to replace Theodora."

? "You would have lost her close association anyway, Lizzy," said Jane. "She is to be married next month and move to Derbyshire."

? "And I am keenly aware of how I will miss her wedding," sighed Elizabeth. "We shall correspond, of course, but it is not the same as having a friend nearby. I believe I shall miss Theodora as much or more than Mrs. Carrington will."

? "Well, I hope you are successful in finding that friend, Lizzy," said Bennet. "For my part, I hope you will forgive me if I do not anticipate our introduction to the neighborhood."

? Elizabeth fixed her gaze on him, amusement written upon her brow. "It is strange that a man so eager to avoid society at any costs spent two decades as a successful parson, to the point that he may even have qualified for a position in the seminary or even a bishopric."

? "If you thought those rumors were anything other than chinwagging, it would surprise me, Elizabeth," replied Bennet. "Be that as it may, the social aspect was one facet of being a parson I did not appreciate. Now that I am a gentleman, I may happily sequester myself on the estate when I do not wish to go out into society and choose only those functions I will not find it a trial to attend."

? Elizabeth shared a glance with her sisters, and they all burst into merry laughter, Bennet looking on with indulgence. This banter had not been unknown between them, and while Bennet knew they did not consider him a recluse, that he enjoyed little society was no secret to the neighborhood in which he had been a parson.

? "I hope, Papa," said Elizabeth, her eyes shining with mirth, "you do not mean to mimic the behavior of the late Mr. Collins and absent yourself from society altogether. It will not reflect on us at all well if you do."

? "No, my dear," said Bennet. "I shall offer these people my attention and hope to provoke their good opinion."

? "That is well, for I am interested to meet these people."

? Bennet nodded and they turned back to their dinner, the conversation thereafter comprising various observations of the house and their plans for the changes they meant to make. They were sensible girls, rational and intelligent, and while they spoke of various matters, soon their conversation became more animated and ideas outlandish. Had Bennet not had the benefit of his part in their upbringing, he might have wondered if they meant to pauper him through their extravagance. Then again, their glances at him from time to time spoke of their purpose to tease—not the first time since they had come to Longbourn, as Bennet recalled.

? "I wonder at this new portico you planned," said Bennet when their banter became too outrageous to ignore. "Would not such an addition look out of place on a home as modest at Longbourn? If you wish to live in an edifice as grand as Blenheim Palace, it seems to me it would be best to remove the structure and build anew."

? The girls laughed at his sally. "Perhaps you are correct, Papa," replied Elizabeth. "I hope you will be happy with what we planned, though I shall state that we do not mean to imitate that grand estate of which you spoke."

? "As long as you remember economy, my dear," replied Bennet, "I cannot imagine anything you design will be other than pleasing."

? "It will be a relief to welcome visitors into a sitting-room that is not hideous to behold," said Elizabeth, her sisters nodding along with her.

? "I should not say the sitting-room is that bad," replied Bennet.

? "That is because you are a man, Papa," said Jane. "Trust me—Mama would have been no less than embarrassed to welcome visitors into this room."

? "Yes, Jane," replied Bennet, thinking of his wife with fond remembrance. "I dare say that is a near likeness of your mother, indeed."

? "Even if he did not entertain," said Elizabeth, "it is shocking that Mr. Collins allowed the house to decay as much as he has. Most of the fashions in the house are dreadful. It is not a surprise he would not wish to spend the funds on refreshing all the unused bedrooms, still, I might expect he would take some thought for the public rooms."

? "Remember, Lizzy," said Mary. "He was quite elderly when he passed away. I cannot imagine he used those chambers much at all."

? "I do not wish to speak ill of the dead," said Bennet. "My father, when I could induce him to say anything, suggested that Collins was at heart a selfish man."

? "That is not a surprise," replied Elizabeth. "Given the lengths to which he descended to seize Longbourn. It is still something of a shock he saw fit to return it to you at all. By your testimony he has other Collins relations—should he not have left it to one of them?"

? "I have no answers, Lizzy," said Bennet, "and I considered the matter at length. How we came to reacquire the estate puzzles me, though I am grateful regardless of how it came about."

? Bennet paused, uncertain if he should reveal what Philips had told him. Seeing his daughters' interest, he decided there was little reason to keep it from them.

? "Philips spoke of the matter, though his explanation was as curt as everything else he said. After his son passed, it seems Collins had a change of heart and determined to leave the estate to me. Philips's father was still the solicitor, and he did not hesitate to argue the matter, but Collins remained adamant."

? "That is a surprise," said Mary. "Not that Mr. Philips would argue against it, of course. One would suspect that a man who conspired with Mr. Philips's father to steal the estate would do all in his power to keep it."

? "Why did he not inform grandfather when he decided?" asked Elizabeth. "If he resolved to return the estate to us thirty years ago, that would have been before Grandpapa's passing."

? "Perhaps he did not wish to excite his hopes," replied Bennet with a shrug, "He had no intention of ceding control of the estate while he lived, after all. In a similar vein, I cannot imagine why Collins ignored the house and the grounds, except to say that he only concerned himself with his comfort and the rooms he used."

? The girls nodded their agreement. "Then the study does not need updating," observed Elizabeth.

? "Not as such," replied Bennet. "I shall purchase a new chair, for the one Collins was using is unsound, and my chairs from the parsonage will replace those before the fire. The only other thing I wish to add is a few bookshelves, for what he has in the study is insufficient for my collection."

? "You do have a fine collection of books," said Elizabeth diplomatically.

? "That is rich for you to say, Lizzy," interjected Jane, her manner all affection for her sister. "By my account, you are a devotee of the written word yourself."

? "Do not forget me!" exclaimed Mary, much to their mutual amusement.

? "I own it without disguise," rejoined Elizabeth. "I, for one, have no issue with Papa adding shelves to his study, for it will make it that much easier for me to find a book I wish to read!"

? Thereafter, the family retired to the sitting-room for the rest of the evening, though Bennet knew he would excuse himself to return to his study before he retired. There were a few matters he still wished to look over, and the incomprehensible ledgers beckoned his continued investigation. The room was, as his daughters had averred, so outdated as to be hideous, whatever fineness it had once possessed was now faded and worn. Margaret, his dearly departed wife, would have deplored it, insisting they make the funds available to refresh the room. Bennet could not deny her, not that he would wish to do so.

? This, of course, led to a time reminiscing about his wife, lost to him two years earlier. Maggie had heard as much of the estate lost to the Bennets as his daughters, and while she had not been a grasping woman, she would have anticipated her residence in their new home as much as Bennet and his daughters did. Though time had blunted the immediacy of loss, Bennet reflected again on the great disappointment and misfortune of losing his wife when having her with them would have been such a comfort to them all.

? There was little enough reason to dwell on what he could not change, so Bennet pushed such thoughts to the side, though, as always, he kept the memory of his wife close to his heart. Thereafter, he concentrated more of his attention on his daughters, listening to their continued discussion of the coming days and what they meant to do in the sitting-room. While Bennet was not a man who could debate draperies and furniture, or even have much interest other than what he found pleasing to the eye, he thought their plans would result in a room it would be a pleasure to inhabit. He informed them of this himself.

? "I hope you will enjoy it, Papa," said Jane when he had made his sentiments known. "There is much more work to do in this house, but I dare say we will make it into a home in time."

? "I have every confidence in you," replied Bennet with a nod. "Your mother would be proud of you if she could see you now."

? "She is looking down on us, Papa," said Mary. "All she ever wanted was our happiness and protection. No doubt she considers that last accomplished since we now live at Longbourn."

? "You forget something, Mary," replied Elizabeth, her voice brimming with mirth. "She would not consider her work done until we were all disposed of in marriage!"

? The girls fell against each other in their merriment, Bennet indulging their mirth. Maggie had been a woman of decided opinions, and among them was the conviction that young ladies must be married to attain true contentment in life. What she might have thought upon coming to live at this estate Bennet could not say, but he suspected she would raise her sights to the gentlemen of the neighborhood at the very least, her expectations increasing accordingly.

? "Papa," said Elizabeth when their mirth had run its course, "when will Mr. Darcy join us at Longbourn?"

? Bennet shrugged, the thought of his younger friend recalling to his mind how useful Darcy's experience would be in decoding the blasted ledgers. Perhaps those infernal books would be beyond even his ability to understand.

? "Next week, as I recall. There were some matters to which he needed to attend, so he has not given me a firm commitment just yet."

? "It has been many years since we saw him," said Jane. "Has he much changed from the young man he was?"

? "From my perspective, he has altered little," said Bennet, "though I will note the last time I met him was when I had occasion to go into Derbyshire last year. He is still the same reticent, serious young man you knew when he and his father visited seven years ago."

? Bennet grinned at them and added: "I cannot say how much you younger girls remember him, considering how much time has passed."

? "I was thirteen, Papa," said Elizabeth. "I recall Mr. Darcy very well, thank you very much."

? "It is good of Mr. Darcy to lend his time to help you become accustomed to Longbourn," opined Mary.

? "It is, indeed," replied Bennet. "But he was happy to do it. Since his father passed away five years ago, he has come into the ownership of his property, and though I am not an expert in such matters, I can only suppose he has done well with it."

? "Pemberley is a beautiful place," said Elizabeth. "I do not recall it well, of course, as I was only seven when we visited. Yet I remember enough to apprehend that it is far grander than I remember."

? "At least you have some memories at all," said Mary. "I was but six and recall little of our stay."

? "It is a grand estate," said Bennet. "Longbourn is nothing at all by comparison. A man who can manage Pemberley may manage Longbourn at his leisure, and Darcy has several smaller properties as part of his portfolio."

? "Just the man you require to help you accustom yourself to your new position," observed Elizabeth.

? Bennet nodded. "Darcy speaks of his struggles after his father's passing and his uncertainty of what he should do. As his father trained him to manage such a property, I can only suppose that I would learn what I needed to know, but only with trial and error, and making more mistakes than I would wish."

? The girls nodded and soon they retired to their rooms. Bennet bid them a good night and then made his way to his study, intent upon seeing to the tasks he had considered earlier. Yet, when he entered the room, he found introspection overtook him, for the events of the day had recalled many matters to his mind, subjects that he had often pushed away, not wishing to dwell on them.

? Foremost in his thoughts was Philips's visit, and his concerns about what the man meant to do. Bennet did not fear him, for the solicitor had executed Collins's will according to the law. Longbourn was now his possession; should Philips make any attempt to wrest it from his grasp, he would discover his impotence. Bennet made a mental note to speak to the solicitor in Stevenage. He would not use Philips and Mr. Hanson had appeared a capable man, one worthy of his patronage.

? Perhaps it was unsurprising that Bennet accomplished little the rest of that night, so caught up in his thoughts was he. When, at length, he abandoned any hope of completing any of the work that lay before him, he rose from his chair and sought his bed. His daughters had the right of it. Tomorrow was another day—he could take up those tasks again when the sun shone.