It was this sight that met Mrs Bennet and her daughters on their return to the top of the tower.
“Mr Collins!”
Even Mrs Bennet was shocked by the ardour of Lizzy’s suitor. She had not expected the clergyman to be so forward in his expression of love as to be already on top of her daughter. How times had changed.
“Madam!” said Mr Collins, getting up hastily. “It is not what it seems! Oh my! Oh my!” And he hurried to the staircase, made his way down as fast as he could, and was surprised as he walked out into the sunshine at the bottom to be hit on the head by a parachuting Malcolm.
“Malcolm had a lovely descent!” called Lydia, giggling from the top of the tower.
“I, er…” Mr Collins left, alone, confused, and unsure whether his proposal had been a success or not. He decided to go and sit on a bench and gaze out to sea until the beating in his breast had subsided and he could ask Malcolm for advice.
“Well, Lizzy?” asked Mrs Bennet as they descended the winding stairway.
“I will not marry him, Mother!”
“You certainly will.”
“I shall not.”
“Let’s see what your father has to say about this!”
As they left the churchyard they were fortunate enough to bump into Mr Bennet.
“Lizzy will not marry Mr Collins!” announced a furious Mrs Bennet.
“Is this true, Lizzy?”
“I certainly will not!”
“Make her marry him, Mr Bennet! Think of the inheritance.”
“I will not!”
“If you do not, I will never speak to you again!” cried Mrs Bennet.
“Lizzy, my dear,” said Mr Bennet seriously, “an unhappy situation lies before you. You are on the verge of losing one or other of your parents. If you do not marry Mr Collins, your mother will never speak to you again. If you do marry Mr Collins, I will never speak to you again.”
And with that, Mr Bennet walked on, leaving Mrs Bennet furious, the Bennet girls in peals of laughter, and Lizzy much relieved.