It was the closest to open defiance of her ladyship she had yet shown, and it greatly distressed her husband, but even he had to agree with her point that he had no special influence with his cousin, and no evidence that she would not act wilfully against his counsel.

‘Very well,’ Lady Catherine snapped. ‘I see I am to have no aid from you. I am most disappointed in you. But your feebleness does not inspire confidence that you could indeed intervene effectively. I shall have all the inconvenience of travelling to Longbourn myself to attend to the matter. You are dismissed from my presence.’

Mr Collins was by now almost weeping with distress and, all the way home, his wife had to dissuade him from returning to Rosings to throw himself at Lady Catherine’s feet and promise any service he could offer. It was only by dint of impressing upon him the unlikelihood of such a match (she argued for this robustly while privately holding the opposite view) and the equal unlikelihood that his cousin would obey any instruction of his (this she had no trouble believing) that she got him home. She kept murmuring the words ‘headstrong’ and ‘wilful’, hoping Lizzy would forgive such calumny, but it took the entire evening to calm her husband. They eventually settled it that after Lady Catherine’s visit to Hertfordshire, he would write to Mr Bennet, giving an account of the rumour, and advising him to take all steps necessary to contradict it, explaining that even if such a match might be thought of, Lady Catherine would never consent to it.

Charlotte now decided the time was right to distract him with a piece of news she had been saving: she was certain she was with child, an infant, as far as she could calculate, who would be born at the end of the year. This had the desired effect: Mr Collins was overcome by joy, pride, and solicitude, and began to revolve around the room with feverish good spirits rather than anxiety, unable to decide whether to call out the news to the servants and invite them to take a celebratory glass of Madeira, or to tuck a quilt over his wife’s knees and make up the fire afresh. The rest of the evening was spent in speculation of a happier kind, and Charlotte privately enjoyed the sense of double anticipation: a child on the way, and perhaps a match between her friend and Mr Darcy.

Lady Catherine’s visit was paid, and Mr Collins’s letter written, but, within days, there came the following reply from Mr Bennet: ‘I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.’