engaged by Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins

instead!—her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no{112} help

for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own was perforce

delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as

good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his

gallantry, from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first

struck her, that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of

being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a

quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors.

The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing

civilities towards herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a

compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than

gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before

her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage

was exceedingly agreeable to her. Elizabeth, however, did not choose

to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the

consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and,

till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.
If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the

younger Miss Bennets would have been in a pitiable state at this time;

for, from the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was

such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No

aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after; the very shoe-roses

for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some

trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement

of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on

Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday

endurable to Kitty and Lydia.{113}

CHAPTER XVIII.