Happy was the day that all the families in the neighbourhood received their invitation to a ball at Netherfield. Dances were requested and dresses considered, and we were all aflutter. On the morning of the ball, Mama accosted me as I returned to Longbourn after my morning walk. It was immediately apparent she had something to say that she meant me to heed but suspected I would not. “Elizabeth, come here.” She beckoned me conspiratorially although there was nobody else there to see. The air was chill, and the trees had lost their leaves. We walked together in the bare, bracken-littered garden. “Now Lizzy, you will be very attentive to Mr Collins this evening, for he is particular for your company, and you would do well not to put him off.”
“I have agreed to dance the first two dances with him, Mama. You know I cannot escape.”
“And why ever should you wish to escape, child? What a notion! You should be very particular to please Mr Collins as he has shown a preference for you. I hope he will ask you to dance the supper dance with him as well, for then you would secure him throughout the meal. Yes, that would be a great advantage. I shall find some way of suggesting it to him.”
“Mama, I beg you would not suggest anything more to him. I shall dance with him—of course, I shall—but two dances will be quite enough. I do not wish to spend the whole evening with him. And as for supper—surely, we all endure enough of his conversation at home!”
I recognized the ire rising in her and the mistaken belief that I misunderstood her meaning. “Lizzy, you do not know of what you speak. This is not merely a matter of supper and dancing. I have very good reason to believe it is more serious. Mr Collins has resolved to choose a bride from among our daughters, and he favours you, Lizzy. He will make you an offer—I am sure of it—and soon. You must be ready. You must not put him off.”
“Mama, please.” I could not let her go on. “Our cousin, he is…well, he is simply not a man whom I could ever imagine marrying. And I am very pleased to say that he has not asked me.”
“Pleased! Pleased!” she barked. “Pleased to be the ruin of your family when you could secure the future of your mother and your poor sisters; you say you will not. How can you think so? I am ashamed of you! I suppose you think there is some alternative! Who do you think will come for you? Do you expect a second Mr Bingley to come into the neighbourhood, or maybe you fancy a life as Mrs Wickham, eh? Well, you are a foolish girl. It will never come to be. You will never get a better offer than Mr Collins, and then when your father dies, we shall not be turned out of our home. You cannot refuse him.”
“I can refuse him, Mama, and I will.” I tried, not completely successfully, to keep my voice level whilst Mama’s climbed in volume and octave.
“You selfish creature. You selfish creature. How have I raised such a selfish girl? I do not know! Your father shall hear of this. You may not pick and choose, Elizabeth; you owe this to your family. I expect you to attend to Mr Collins this evening and attend him well.” The lace framing her face shook as she spoke, and she looked away from me in fury.
“You ask too much, Mama. I will not do it. My feelings forbid it in every respect.”
At that moment, my sister Mary appeared to say that Mama was wanted in the house. I do not suspect her of having listened to our exchange; my sisters and I were so used to Mama’s histrionics that they did not signify. However, I knew I had rattled my mother, and she was working her anger around and around in her mind. I saw her glance at my every move and tighten her lips, ruminating on the best manner to foist Mr Collins upon me.
It did not do to spoil such a merry day in pondering this discussion with Mama, so I did not do so. The house was alive with laughter and the hubbub of ribbon swapping and gown altering as my sisters and I prepared for the ball. Our poor father retreated to his library as our mother pronounced loudly and repeatedly who should look well in what. My sisters bickered over pieces of lace and ornamented one another’s hair with beads and flowers. It was dusk when our family carriage drew up outside Netherfield, and I felt the wonder of seeing that familiar house losing the daylight, bedecked with lanterns, humming with all the people of our acquaintance, and more.