Chapter 13

“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”

“I hope you've arranged a good dinner today, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said to his wife at breakfast the next morning. “Because I have reason to expect someone to join our family gathering.”

“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”

“Who do you mean, my dear? I’m sure I don’t know of anyone coming, unless Charlotte Lucas happens to stop by. And I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I don’t believe she often has dinners like mine at home.”

“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger.”

“The person I’m talking about is a gentleman and a stranger.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane—you never dropped a word of this—you sly thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But—good Lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this moment.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman we don’t know! I’m sure it’s Mr. Bingley. Why, Jane, you never said a word about his visit. You sly thing! Well, I’m sure I’ll be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But, good Lord! How unlucky! There’s no fish to be had today. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill right now.”

“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”

“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband. “It’s someone I’ve never seen in my entire life.”

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.

This astonished everyone. And he had the pleasure of his wife and five daughters eagerly questioning him all at once.

After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained:—“About a month ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”

After enjoying their curiosity for a while, he explained: “About a month ago I received this letter. I answered it about two weeks ago because I thought the matter was delicate and needed prompt attention. The letter is from my cousin, Mr. Collins. When I am dead, he may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”

“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”

“Oh, my dear,” his wife cried, “I can’t bear to hear that mentioned. Please don’t talk about that awful man. I really do think nothing in the world is more unfair than the legal restrictions on your estate. They prevent your own children from inheriting it. And I’m sure, if I were you, I would have tried to do something about those restrictions long ago.”

Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.

Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to Mrs. Bennet how an entail restricted who could inherit an estate. They had often tried before, but Mrs. Bennet would not listen to reason on the subject. She continued to complain bitterly about the cruelty of leaving an estate to a man nobody cared anything about, instead of a family of five daughters.

“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet; “and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”

“It certainly is a terribly unfair business,” said Mr. Bennet. “And nothing can excuse Mr. Collins for the crime of inheriting Longbourn. But if you listen to his letter, perhaps the way he expresses himself may soften you a little.”

“No, that I am sure I shall not: and I think it was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before him?”

“No, I’m sure I won’t. And I think it was very rude and very hypocritical of him to write to you at all. I hate such fake friends. Why couldn’t he keep arguing with you, as his father did before him?”

“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear.”

“Well, he does seem to have had some concerns about that because of his duty as a son, as you’ll hear.”

“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and, I doubt not, will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again.”

“So we can expect this peace-making gentleman at four o’clock,” said Mr. Bennet as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a very conscientious and polite young man, I must say. And I have no doubt he will be well worth knowing, especially if Lady Catherine kindly lets him visit us again.”

“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however; and, if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him.”

“Still, there is some sense in what he says about the girls. And if he wants to make things up to them, I won’t be the one to discourage him.”

“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit.”

“It’s hard to guess how he plans to make the amends he thinks he owes us,” said Jane. “But his wish to do so certainly speaks well of him.”

Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary deference for Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever it were required.

Elizabeth was struck most by his extraordinary respect for Lady Catherine. And by his kind intention to baptize, marry, and bury his parishioners whenever needed.

“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out. There is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would help it, if he could. Can he be a sensible man, sir?”

“He must be an odd character, I think,” she said. “I can’t figure him out. His writing sounds very pompous. And why does he apologize for being next in line to inherit the estate under the entail? We can’t suppose he would change that even if he could. Can he be a sensible man, sir?”

“No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”

“No, my dear, I don’t think so. I have high hopes of finding him quite the opposite. His letter mixes an eagerness to please with self-importance, which looks promising. I can’t wait to see him.”

“In point of composition,” said Mary, “his letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed.”

“As far as the writing goes,” said Mary, “his letter seems fine. Perhaps the olive branch idea is not entirely new, but I think he expresses it well.”

To Catherine and Lydia neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her husband and daughters.

Neither the letter nor its writer interested Catherine and Lydia at all. Their cousin was almost certain not to arrive in a scarlet coat. For some weeks now, they had enjoyed no man's company unless he wore that colour. As for their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had softened much of her resentment. She was preparing to meet him with a calmness that astonished her husband and daughters.

Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,—

Mr. Collins arrived exactly on time, and the whole family welcomed him very politely. Mr. Bennet said little, but the ladies were quite ready to talk. Mr. Collins seemed to need no encouragement and showed no desire to remain silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of twenty-five. He looked serious and dignified, and his manners were very formal. Soon after sitting down, he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having such a fine family of daughters. He said he had heard much about their beauty, but their reputation fell short of the truth. He added that he had no doubt she would see them all well married in time. These flattering remarks did not please some of his listeners. But Mrs. Bennet, who never objected to a compliment, readily replied:

“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.”

“You are very kind, sir, I’m sure. And I hope with all my heart that it turns out that way. Otherwise, they will be very poor indeed. Things have been arranged so strangely.”

“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”

“Perhaps you mean the legal restrictions on who can inherit this estate.”

“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things, I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.”

“Ah, sir, I certainly do. You must admit, it is a terrible situation for my poor girls. Not that I mean to blame you. I know such things are all a matter of chance in this world. Once estates are entailed, there is no knowing who will inherit them.”

“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted——”

“I am well aware, madam, of the hardship my lovely cousins face. I could say much on the subject, but I am careful not to seem too forward or hasty. But I can assure the young ladies that I have come prepared to admire them. For now, I will say no more, but perhaps when we know each other better...”

He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. The dinner, too, in its turn, was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologize for about a quarter of an hour.

He was interrupted by the call to dinner, and the girls smiled at each other. They were not the only things Mr. Collins admired. He examined and praised the hall, the dining room, and all the furniture. His praise of everything would have warmed Mrs. Bennet’s heart, but for one humiliating thought. She suspected he was looking at it all as his future property. The dinner, too, received high praise when its turn came. He asked which of his lovely cousins deserved credit for the excellent cooking. But Mrs. Bennet corrected him rather sharply. She assured him they could well afford a good cook, and her daughters did no work in the kitchen. He apologized for displeasing her. In a gentler tone, she said she was not at all offended. But he continued apologizing for about fifteen minutes.