My fancy for Wickham, as you choose to call it, is simply my sympathy for a most ill-used man: also the relief of meeting with good manners and a good understanding after the insufferable pride of Mr. Darcy, and the stupid pomposity of that dreadful Mr. Collins! [Charlotte starts.] Oh, my dear Charlotte, I have never thanked you half enough for helping us to endure that man. It was so good-natured in you to sacrifice yourself by listening to those interminable speeches of his.—I am more obliged to you than I can express. But oh, what a relief it is to know that he is really gone!
Charlotte.
[Who has listened to all this tirade in increasing embarrassment.] Oh, don't! Don't, Eliza! You are making it so terribly hard for me. But,—but I must tell you.—I am engaged to Mr. Collins!
[Elizabeth is stupefied with surprise and looks at Charlotte for a moment in silent and incredulous amazement. Then with difficulty she speaks.]
Elizabeth.
Engaged! Engaged to—to Mr. Collins! Oh, my dear Charlotte—impossible! [Hopefully.] You are joking!
Charlotte.
[With spirit.] No, indeed, Eliza, I am in most serious earnest. Why should you be so surprised? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?
Elizabeth.
[Confused.] Oh, no—no—of course not. And,—and you must forgive all I have just said. I couldn't possibly have imagined——