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Thursday morning began much the same as Wednesday had. Mr. Collins requested another private conversation, this time with Lydia, just as Mrs. Bennet had expected.

Wearily, she began to state that he could not properly have any private business with Lydia. However, her daughter expressed a willingness to hear him out.

This was maturity indeed. Proud of her youngest daughter for having the courage to bear this ordeal, she ushered the others out, pausing only to whisper to Lydia, “Be firm.”

Mrs. Bennet sent the rest of her daughters upstairs to wait in her dressing room.

But she remained in the hall, anticipating that Mr. Collins would need to be steered in the direction of Mr. Bennet, who could explain that Lydia was not being coquettish and would not be persuaded by further applications.

However, when Lydia emerged twenty minutes later, she gleefully announced her engagement.

Mrs. Bennet was lost for words, but after Mr. Collins had gone to speak to Mr. Bennet, she cried, “Have you lost your mind? What could you have been thinking?”

“That I might as well be mistress of Longbourn since I am never going to catch an officer,” Lydia replied.

“But first you will have to be mistress of Hunsford Parsonage. And the wife of a clergyman.”

“A clergyman who is frequently invited to dine at Rosings. I shall become Lady Catherine’s bosom friend and persuade her to give a ball every week. It will be even better than going to Brighton. And I shall be the first of my sisters to be married.”

“No, you won’t. Mr. Bennet has promised to deny Mr. Collins his consent.”

“It isn’t fair,” Lydia cried.

Mr. Collins shortly returned and confirmed that consent had indeed been denied. “However, I am hopeful of gaining your father’s permission on a second application,” he said to Lydia. “And I am very willing to make a third or as many applications as may be necessary.”

Of course he was.

A few minutes later Lydia was explaining to Mr. Bennet that she would never talk to him again if he did not give Mr. Collins permission to marry her. And Mrs. Bennet was declaring that if Lydia did marry Mr. Collins, she would never talk to her again.

“But you both said that we could choose our own husbands,” Lydia cried.

Mr. Bennet looked at his wife. “It seems a hopeless business. We did agree that the choice is theirs, and I fear that Lydia will never be content if we forbid this engagement.”

Mrs. Bennet sighed. It had not occurred to her that any of her daughters would choose so foolishly. But Mr. Bennet was right. They had as good as given their word. She had to concede.

“But I insist upon it being a very long engagement,” she said. “I will not allow you to go to the altar without ample time to consider whether you really want to be married to Mr. Collins.”

Lydia did not object to this, but only because she thought that being an engaged lady was even more exciting than being a married one. She had no notion of spending any amount of time thinking over the matter from a rational perspective.

Mrs. Bennet left the room feeling utterly defeated. Lydia was extremely unlikely to find happiness in an ill-considered match. She would rather have no daughters engaged than one who had chosen unwisely.

Lydia hurried away to Meryton, no doubt intent upon spreading the news of her engagement.

Feeling that this was no occasion for joy, Mrs. Bennet did not choose to go out and do the same.

One call had to be made, because Lady Lucas’s courtesy of the previous day warranted reciprocation.

Mrs. Bennet requested the carriage, but after sharing her news at Lucas Lodge, she immediately returned home.

Unsurprisingly, the rest of the morning was spent receiving many more callers. Some had evidently been late in learning that Netherfield had been vacated. Others had obviously been quick to learn of Lydia’s engagement.

Thursday evening kept Mrs. Bennet on her toes. Lady Lucas was wanting to talk about all three of her daughters’ engagements. Mrs. Bennet was happy to encourage any amount of conversation concerning two of them. The third was problematic.

Every time Lady Lucas began to say Mr. M—, Mrs. Bennet hastily interrupted with the first thing that came to mind.

The best places to purchase wedding clothes.

Where Maria might live. The benefits of having an apothecary in the family.

How much Emily would enjoy Brighton. Maybe she would even meet the Regent (this elicited a groan from Lydia).

Had Colonel Forster said anything about finding new officers?

The Lucas daughters inadvertently gave her their assistance.

Emily was very happy to speak of everything she expected to discover in Brighton, from the seaside views to the anticipated size of the encampment with its many rows of tents dominating the landscape (more groans from Lydia).

Maria had a great deal to say about a house which she and Mr. Palmer had viewed that morning.

Four rooms up and four rooms down was her idea of perfection, and she had an astounding amount to say about each one of them.

Charlotte was particularly helpful. There was some awkwardness with Mr. Collins thinking that she was the one engaged to Colonel Forster. Very odd of him indeed, but he was the sort of man to get his facts muddled. However, Charlotte corrected him without even mentioning the name of her betrothed.

And for the rest of the evening she seemed to have forgotten that she was even engaged.

The little bit of conversation which she contributed was as far from marriage as possible.

Mrs. Bennet was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong between her and Mr. Madison.

But when that name passed Lady Lucas’s lips, giving her a sudden fright, it was Charlotte who changed the subject before she could.

This caused Mrs. Bennet to suspect that Elizabeth had admitted the truth to her friend. Her suspicion was confirmed a little later, when Lady Lucas said, “Charlotte is very much looking forward to Mr. Madison’s return from London. He has gone to purchase—”

“A vast quantity of books,” Charlotte cried. “I cannot wait to read all of them. He has been extremely generous in sharing his books with us. And speaking of generosity, I heard that Colonel Forster…”

She began recounting a great many instances of the colonel’s generosity, most of which were mere trivialities, but with both Emily and her mother eager to join in praising his character, and Mr. Collins happy to supply them with some useful words and phrases from his personal vocabulary of flattery, Charlotte’s ruse was enormously successful.

It carried the conversation through until the ladies withdrew from the dining room. At that moment, Mrs. Bennet realized the flaw in her plan. Sir William was a great talker. There wasn’t a chance that he wouldn’t speak of his eldest daughter’s engagement.

While Charlotte and Elizabeth were encouraging Lady Lucas to say every single thing she could possibly say about Mr. Madison, presumably with the intention of exhausting the subject, Mrs. Bennet was contemplating how she could explain things to Mr. Collins.

Perhaps she could say that Mr. Madison’s proposal to Elizabeth had actually been him soliciting her assistance in the wording of a proposal he was writing for some committee.

Unfortunately Mr. Collins was very likely to insist that, since Elizabeth had been his first choice of wife, he would have her instead of Lydia, who would be very much affronted, and with justification.

Mr. Bennet would be placed in the unhappy position of having to remind Mr. Collins that he could not rightly put an end to his current engagement.

And poor Lizzy would end up suffering greater aggravation than her mother had tried to save her from in the first place.

All because she had wanted to be helpful to her daughters. But her interference hadn’t been necessary, and now she was going to be responsible for Longbourn being a house of discontent.

When the gentlemen entered the room, Mrs. Bennet was thankful that Mr. Collins didn’t bring up the subject immediately. Apparently he had some sense of what not to say in front of others. Which was more than she could say for herself unfortunately.

When he didn’t say anything in the carriage either, nor upon their return to Longbourn, she was wondering if Sir William had not quite been feeling himself.

With his wife and daughters saying so much, he had been doing more nodding than speaking over dinner.

That had seemed natural at the time, but now it suggested the possibility of illness.

Mrs. Bennet hoped it was nothing serious.

Fortunately he had Mr. Palmer to be particularly attentive to his health.

But Mrs. Bennet learned a great deal more when her husband came along for one of those bedtime chats.

“I understand that Mr. Collins has the impression Elizabeth is engaged to Mr. Madison,” he said, giving her a curious look.

She immediately confessed all that she had tried to do to spare Lizzy from discomfort, and then asked for her husband’s advice about the best way to handle the unfortunate situation which was certain to arise in the morning.

But Mr. Bennet informed her that there was nothing to worry about. “Sir William did start talking about Charlotte’s engagement,” he said. “And Mr. Collins did start to protest that Sir William must have his facts wrong. But I managed to shush him.”

“That was quite a feat,” she said with admiration.

“Afterwards, I was able to draw each of them aside separately, and I begged Sir William not to take offence at Mr. Collins’s rudeness. I said he couldn’t help it because his mind is addled.”

“I’m sure he won’t take offence because he is always wanting to think the best of everyone,” Mrs. Bennet said happily. “But how did you manage Mr. Collins?”

“I told him that Sir William has an unfortunate habit of confusing everyone’s name, and that Charlotte is actually engaged to a gentleman by the name of Addison, whom Mr. Collins has not yet met because he happens to be away at the moment.”

“You were absolutely brilliant,” Mrs. Bennet cried.

“I also asked him to refrain from using names altogether for the rest of the evening, because that made conversation so much easier for Sir William, who sometimes becomes quite distressed about his memory troubles.”

“That explains everything. I was wondering how Mr. Collins could say so much about Lady Catherine without ever speaking her name. Well, I feel very much relieved. I won’t have to make any excuses to him after all.

As long as he doesn’t think that your Mr. Addison is the man that Mary is supposed to marry. ”

“You made up an engagement for her as well, did you? I see you have been very industrious in your efforts to protect your daughters from his proposals.”

“Only an almost engagement,” she said with a smile. “And I know it was excessively interfering of me, but I didn’t want them to have to suffer him being such a nuisance. But even though I meant well, I am quite done with telling untruths. They complicate life dreadfully.”

“They generally do. But I believe I can advise you how to deal with this little problem, should it arise. Mr. Addison’s cousin, shall we say Mr. Morrison, went away with him.”

“I should have consulted you in the first place,” she said. “You give the best advice.”

Mr. Bennet smiled. “I shall keep myself at liberty in case you need to send him to me for an explanation of Kitty’s imaginary engagement.”

Mrs. Bennet’s laughed.

Bolstered by her husband’s advice, and the enjoyment of their chat, she slept quite well. In the morning she was happy to have his reassurances confirmed by Mr. Collins saying nothing about mistaken engagements or men who didn’t exist. Discord had been averted.

However, it was still much on Mrs. Bennet’s mind that Jane and Elizabeth were suffering. They were bearing disappointment well, and no requiems had been played, but the loss of the happiness they should have had would affect the rest of the lives. And it was all her fault.

If only there was something she could do to set things right.