Mary was working in the library one morning, enjoying her solitary state. Then, just as she had decided he did not intend to join her there, Mr Collins appeared at the door, with a self-conscious air.
‘Miss Bennet, I understand from Mrs Collins that it will not inconvenience you if I work for a few hours at my desk. Please tell me if that is so – if not, I will depart at once.’
Mary assured him, as she had done before, that she would be very agreeable to their sharing the room and eventually he sat down and began to shuffle his papers. Mary applied herself to her books and was soon so thoroughly engaged with them that the next sound she heard was Charlotte calling them both to tea. As he readied himself to leave, Mr Collins beamed at Mary with relief.
‘I am most grateful to you, Miss Bennet. I was not at all disturbed. You were so quiet it was as though there was no person in the room but myself.’
‘I am glad to have been so … negligible a presence, sir.’
His face fell.
‘I did not mean to sound ungracious. But very few people understand the importance of silence as an aid to concentration. It is an essential requirement for anyone wishing to undertake serious study, but seldom found, I am afraid to say, especially amongst the fairer sex. You, however, do not seem much given to idle and unreflecting chatter.’
‘I am glad to hear it, sir. It is true I do not have much of a gift for polite conversation.’
Discomfited, Mr Collins gave a little laugh and hurried away. He was clearly satisfied with their arrangement, though, for the next day, and the days following, he arrived in the library every morning, saying little, working his way diligently through his correspondence. But on the fourth day, after an hour or two had passed, Mary was surprised to see him approach her little table.
‘I am afraid my curiosity has triumphed over my manners. May I ask, Miss Bennet, what you are reading with such assiduity?’
Mary looked up, surprised. She had never supposed it would be he who broke the silence.
‘Well, I am looking into works I enjoyed when I lived here. Books I found profitable and useful.’
‘You are reminding yourself of past pleasures, then? To a thinking mind, there is no better recreation.’
‘Partly, that is so. But I am also engaged in an exercise. An investigation, if you like.’
His incredulity registered plainly on his face.
‘Really? Is it of a scholarly nature? If so, perhaps I may be able to assist. I am always at the disposal of any seeker after knowledge, ready to guide the uncertain tastes of those as yet unacquainted with works of a serious complexion.’
Mary was not used to discussing her intellectual pursuits with anyone, and her first instinct was to retreat. But his condescension irked her. She held up her head and looked him in the eye with more boldness than was usual.
‘I am interested in human happiness, sir, in the better understanding of what it is and how it may be achieved. I wish to explore whether it is a state which arises from the chance convergence of circumstances, or whether it is a condition we may will ourselves to possess. I want to understand how we may recognise it when it is within our grasp and in what ways we can learn to live without it if we are not lucky enough to experience it.’
Mr Collins was clearly very much taken aback.
‘Well! That is an extraordinary occupation for a young lady! I never suspected your interests were so philosophical. I confess I imagined you were secretly reading novels, ashamed to be seen so frivolously engaged.’
‘I should not be afraid to acknowledge any book I thought worthy of my time and application, though it is true I am no great reader of fiction. I find works of fact more congenial to my mind.’
‘Do you, indeed?’
Mr Collins sat down and reached towards the little hoard of books piled on the table.
‘May I see in which direction your tastes incline?’
He picked them up one by one, examining their titles.
‘Locke, Paley, Rousseau – even Mr Hume! You venture into some unexpected places, Miss Bennet. Did your father know you were reading such works?’
‘He may have done, but I don’t think he was very interested in anyone’s studies other than his own.’
Mr Collins fingered his clerical collar.
‘I am surprised he had such books upon his shelves at all. They suggest a mind not wholly satisfied by Christian teaching. I should be sorry to think that was the case, but even more grieved to learn that you yourself had been influenced by them.’
‘Oh, no, my faith is too firmly grounded to be shaken in the way you describe. And I cannot agree that it was wrong in my father to possess such books or to allow anyone who wished to read them. Even Dr Fordyce says it is desirable for our minds to be challenged, for only thus can we learn to distinguish good arguments from bad.’
‘You put your case most forcefully, Miss Bennet. And this enquiry of yours, this study in human happiness. May I ask if it is a purely intellectual pursuit? Or does it have perhaps a more personal application?’
Mary had not expected such a penetrating question.
‘I suppose all enquiry is a mixture of the intellectual and the personal. How can we know where one begins and the other ends?’
This time it was Mr Collins who looked away.
‘An interesting question. I shall consider of it, Miss Bennet.’
He nodded, turned on his heel, and left her alone in the library. For a while, she stared out the window, reflecting on their conversation. Then she opened the largest and most challenging volume from the books before her, put on her glasses, and began to read.