Page 7 of Mr Collins in Love
A pang that was sharper than disappointment shot through my heart.But after all, was I not likely the only person he could ask?He could not ask the new man at Marshing.The living there was very poor, as I knew well, my father having been the perpetual curate.
No, I was not disappointed.I was pleased.Of course, Jem should come to me.Yes, I was pleased and would be gratified to be able to help him.People expected charity from a clergyman.It was fitting.Though I must not get a reputation as too soft a touch.Already I had been warned by certain farmers of my acquaintance that other farmers were ever looking for ways to give the rector rather less than one in ten come tithing time.
Anyway, when it came to Jem, it would not really be charity.Others could call it that if they wished.To me, secretly, it would be upholding the bond of friendship.Not only would I give him whatever he needed, I would not quibble nor delay but give him it immediately so he should not be embarrassed.
My noble thoughts had distracted me, and I became suddenly aware that Mrs Fowke and Jem were standing at the stable gate, peering up at me.My heart leapt to see his familiar countenance once more.
As a boy, people had called him ugly.Mr Scatcherd, my father’s gardener, had called him a little old gargoyle.But to me, Jem’s countenance was pleasing above all others.His dark brows were glossy as chestnuts, his eyes were kind, and his lip was charming because it was his own.
“Is…er…now convenient, sir?”Mrs Fowke sounded uncertain.“You did say as how you wanted to speak with the lad.”
“Yes, yes.Thank you, Mrs Fowke.”I stepped down off the verge and across the ditch.“Now will do very well.No time like the present, eh?”
She nodded and bobbed, gave the place I had been standing a puzzled glance, and went off towards the house.
I had him all to myself at the gate.
“Well, Jem!”I said.“Have you eaten?Have you had enough?”
“Yes, sir.Thank you, sir.”
I did not want his thanks.As boys we had shared everything, half and half, and had taken it for granted that it should be so, or at least I had.And soon he would be going, with nothing but politeness between us.
“No, no.You are welcome.”I wanted to plead with him.Don’t you remember?What’s mine is yours.But ten years had passed so I mumbled something about duty, and added, “Mrs Fowke keeps a good kitchen.We are very fortunate here.”
“Yes.”He twisted his cap and added, shyly, staring at his boots, “I hope it ain’t getting above myself, sir, to offer my congratulations on your position here.”
“Thank you, Jem.That’s very kind.”
“Always knew as how you’d do well, Master Willie.You being so clever, sir, with your Latin and your Greek.”
In fact, I had never been much of a scholar and had got my degree by the skin of my teeth, but I was happy to hear him say the old familiar name he used to call me, and it was pleasing to be thought book-learned.
Compared to him, I suppose I was.He had never mastered his letters.I had tried to teach him myself once, but he never could seem to tell b from d and so we had not got very far.It was strange, for he was clever enough in all other respects.
“Thank you, Jem,” I said.“It was great good fortune that brought me here.My previous position as a curate was much less comfortable, but I thank God for it because through it I met my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.I owe her my position here, and my happiness.”
“Must be a fine lady, sir.”
“Indeed, she is.I have never met a lady so high who is so gracious in her manner.Why, only the other day—well, it was perhaps three weeks ago—she praised my sermon freely.”
“Yes, sir.”
He looked suitably awestruck and I refrained from adding that she terrified me.Jem was no gossip and knew nobody hereabouts, but an ill-chosen word may be passed about and where it might end up one never knew.
On my first day in the rectory, I had made a solemn vow that I should never, by word or deed, in private or in public, show one single ounce of ingratitude to Lady Catherine, so that if any were ever to carry report of me to her, she should hear only humble praise and admiration.It was a good vow.It made me feel safe.
“And, you, Jem?How has life treated you?”
“Well, sir, you know I went away to sea.But it’s a hard life aboard, that it is, sir.So, I came ashore last time we made port and I worked awhile in…in a tannery.Near Hastings.But I don’t know as how I was suited to the work.And I…I had a wish to pay my respects and offer my congratulations.Everyone in Marshing says as how you’ve done so well, sir, begging your pardon.”
“Thank you, Jem.”I have been told my voice can be monotonous which can cause people to believe me lacking in feeling, so I tried to put true sentiment into my tone.“I am glad you came.Truly glad, for I have often thought of you and wondered how you were faring.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We have both been out in the world these ten years,” I added.Obvious.Bad.
“Aye, sir, that’s true.Long time, ain’t it?”
