Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, she said, very stiffly, to Elizabeth,--
“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your mother?”
Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.
“And _that_, I suppose, is one of your sisters?”
“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine. “She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, walking with a young man, who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.”
“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine, after a short silence.
“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my Lady, I dare say; but, I assure you, it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”
“This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for the evening in summer: the windows are full west.”
Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner; and then added,--
“May I take the liberty of asking your Ladyship whether you left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well?”
“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”
Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled.
Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her Ladyship to take some refreshment: but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,--