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“Well, the long-awaited day has arrived,” Mr. Bennet cheerfully announced at breakfast. “At four o’clock we shall be able to discover what sort of a man Mr. Collins is.

I am hoping that he will provide a vast amount of diversion.

A man who proposes to make a lengthy stay should come prepared to thoroughly entertain his hosts with quirks of character and oddities of behaviour. ”

Mrs. Bennet smiled. No other gentleman in the neighbourhood had such a way with words as her husband. His capriciousness was really quite endearing once one became accustomed to it. She hoped that Mr. Collins would provide him with a great deal of entertainment.

But she was also hoping that he would not be so odd as to make him unappealing.

Although she had no intention of interfering or even encouraging her daughters to view Mr. Collins favourably, it would be a great relief to see one of them take a liking to him.

While she was trying to accept that marriage was a matter of choice, Mrs. Bennet had not forgotten the importance of security.

And the marriage of just one daughter to the future master of Longbourn would be the means of providing all of them with a more secure future.

This concern had again been very much in her thoughts over the last few days, during which they had not seen anything of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.

Although Mrs. Bennet had expected this, she was greatly feeling the loss of valued friends and regret for having destroyed Jane’s happiness.

In that frame of mind, she had not been able to keep herself from contemplating the possibility of Mr. Collins being very interesting to one of her daughters.

Perhaps Kitty, who had lately become so mature that she need not be thinking herself too young for marriage.

Or maybe Lizzy if he turned out to be witty against Mr. Bennet’s prediction.

Or perhaps Mary, who had lately been more cheerful, had in fact changed her mind about second attachments.

Perhaps Mr. Collins might even be so handsome that Lydia could overlook his profession.

But Lydia really was too young. And it was no use thinking of Jane, who was too much in love with Mr. Bingley to think of anyone else even if he had deserted her.

Indeed, Mary had been so strongly of the same opinion that she wasn’t likely to have changed her mind.

Her sentiments should be respected, along with Kitty’s assessment of her own readiness for marriage.

And Mrs. Bennet could not rate very highly the chances of Mr. Collins being witty.

She was lately inclined to think Mr. Bennet’s judgement exceptionally reliable.

It was extremely unlikely that any of her daughters would choose Mr. Collins. By the time that Mrs. Bennet went to meet him at 4 o’clock, she had decided it was irrelevant whether he turned out to be handsome, good humoured, bookish, or witty.

However she appreciated his promptness, and also his gratitude for their hospitality. Until it had been repeated four times. One liked to be appreciated, but Mr. Collins was so excessively grateful as to border on being tedious.

Then there was some nonsense about their generosity in accepting him into the bosom of their family. This was followed by praise of her daughters’ beauty—also done to excess.

Mrs. Bennet realized that she would have once basked in such compliments, but now she had no use for them.

Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Madison did not speak like this.

Not even the officers. Although they often indulged in gallantries, they did so in an easy-going manner which made everything amusing.

The seriousness of Mr. Collins’s gallantries only made them ridiculous.

She was beginning to think that he could not in any way be a sensible man.

And that she might actually have acquired some sense of her own in recent days, for she would have liked nothing more than to take refuge behind a book as Mr. Bennet had done.

Poor man. He had no patience for nonsense.

And now his wife was regretting all that he might have suffered through her doing.

The absurdity continued during dinner. Reminded of her own foolishness, Mrs. Bennet felt obliged to be patient with Mr. Collins.

But that wasn’t easy when he was so intent upon admiring the dining room, the furniture, and the plate.

Mrs. Bennet wasn’t certain if this was some ill-considered flattery, or if he was surveying his future property with delight, but neither one was calculated to please her.

And then he had the presumption to ask which of his cousins had cooked the meal.

It was only a fear of sounding like Miss Bingley which kept her from replying with asperity.

Besides, she reflected, cooking was a useful skill for young ladies with moderate expectations.

Perhaps she should have sent her daughters into the kitchen for lessons in cookery.

It had been arrogant of her to assume that they would never need to cook, but at any rate she was confident that none of them would need to cook for Mr. Collins.

They were certainly looking as though that did not fall into any of their plans.

It was obvious that they didn’t find him entertaining either, especially once he started talking about himself, his humble parsonage, and his noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

After ten minutes of this, Mrs. Bennet understood several things.

Firstly, Mr. Collins had some absurd ideas of pleasing people by means of flattery. Secondly, he considered himself to be well practised in the art of making compliments. Thirdly, he was in fact inept at that art.

Fourthly, she must resign herself to hearing a great many more compliments for the duration of his visit.

Fifthly, most of them had probably already been prepared in anticipation of this visit.

Sixthly, some which had originally been bestowed upon Lady Catherine would now be adapted for use at Longbourn.

Seventhly, Mrs. Bennet desired compliments which had already been offered up to her ladyship about as much as she wanted to get second-hand dresses from Mrs. Peacock.

Eighthly, by the end of his visit she would be biting her tongue not to quarrel with Mr. Collins. And ninthly, she completely understood why her husband resorted to sarcasm, as he was doing at that moment.

Their eyes met, he gave her a little smile, and she was filled with happiness. They were sharing one of those moments of amusement which she had sometimes observed between him and Lizzy.

After dinner, Mr. Collins insisted upon reading to them.

This seemed preferable to more of his conversation.

Until he began to recite in a monotonous voice.

Mrs. Bennet was relieved when Lydia interrupted to say that the book he had chosen was one which she had already read and did not wish to hear again.

Affronted, Mr. Collins put it down and would not take up another, which was for the best.

Instead, he suggested a game of backgammon to Mr. Bennet, who made this brave sacrifice. She threw her poor husband a look of sympathy, but fortunately he seemed to find sufficient amusement to pass the evening in a satisfactory manner.

After they had retired for the night, he came to her room, smiling widely.

“Oh, Mr. Bennet!” she cried. “Arranging compliments! Shelves in the closet!”

As they laughed themselves into stitches over some of the things Mr. Collins had said, Mrs. Bennet marvelled that the day had come when she was sharing in her husband’s wit instead of being the object of it.

Having known that situation well, however, she could not laugh too much at Mr. Collins’s foolishness.

Regaining her composure, she said, “I only hope that he may acquire better sense before taking on the duties of an estate owner. And long may it be before that day comes. I do not want to see such an unworthy man in your place.”

Upon hearing this declaration, Mr. Bennet bestowed upon her a kiss, which was followed by an unexpected moment of passion. Mrs. Bennet was afterwards exhausted, but well content. It was nice to feel wanted.