“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections.  You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected mother’s permission for this address.  You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble:  my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken.  Almost as soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my future life.  But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying—­and moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”

The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further, and he continued:—­

“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly,—­which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier,—­that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honor of calling patroness.  Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked, too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford—­between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh’s footstool—­that she said, ’Mr. Collins, you must marry.  A clergyman like you must marry.  Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman, for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way.  This is my advice.  Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her!’ Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer.  You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite.  Thus much for my general intention in favor of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views are directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighborhood, where, I assure you, there are many amiable young women.  But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honored father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place,—­which,