have often observed, that resignation is never so perfect as when the

blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation.

You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your

family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your

daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the

compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf.

My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my

dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own; but we are all

liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair.

My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due

consideration for the advantage of all your family; and if my manner

has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize.{146}”

CHAPTER XXI.

THE discussion of Mr. Collins’s offer was now nearly at an end, and

Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily

attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusion of her mother.

As for the gentleman himself, his feelings were chiefly expressed, not

by embarrassment or dejection, or{147} by trying to avoid her, but by

stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to

her; and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of

himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose

civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and

especially to her friend.
The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill humour or ill

health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth

had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did

not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on

Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay.
After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton, to inquire if Mr. Wickham