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First published August 1, 2025

“You are a single man, are you not? And in possession, now, of a very tolerable living. Not exactly a fortune, perhaps, though it might be called so by some men in your position, Mr Collins, indeed it might. So, now you must be in want of a wife.”But this is not why I'm rating Mr Collins in Love quite so highly and why it will be, without any doubt, one of my top books of 2025.
His boyhood friend, Jem, is eating in the kitchen, and Mr Collins wants to talk to Jem before he leaves.What adds gravitas to this (faintly comical) side of Mr Collins is how he responds to the visual world around him. He sees and looks for beauty.
I went back to my study and sat at my desk… [But i]f Jem was brought in, he would have to stand and I did not want that expanse of desk between us.
I seated myself in the easy chair by the grate, but it was not the same without a fire, and of course it was too warm to want one. It was a shame Jem could not have arrived in April when I should have had a fire in here, and then it would have seemed most natural and fitting to talk before the fire.
I stood up.
I should stifle in the study. Fitting or not, I must have air.
Once in the garden, though, I realised that since I usually spent Sunday evenings in my study, that was where Mrs Fowke or Milly would look for me. What if they did not think to find me in the garden? What if they let Jem go without his seeing me again? But I had said ‘let’s talk when you have eaten’, which made it plain I expected to speak with Jem again. I was suddenly not sorry for having said it.
I looked at the beans without seeing them.
Perhaps, under the circumstances, it would not be wrong for me to stop by the kitchen door? I could say ‘Come, Jem, let us talk now, then I must get to my study’. Or I could invent a need for tea, or bread and butter, or some other excuse that would give me a reason to stop by the kitchen.
Then I hit upon it. The gate.
There were two front gates to the property: the main—or garden—gate and the stable gate, but both gave directly onto the lane. Jem must pass through one or the other to leave. It was more likely he would leave by the stable gate, because that would be more fitting for a man of his station, and because it lay closer to Hunsford which was likely the direction he would go when he departed.
There was a bench by the stable, and I sat upon it, but the sun dazzled me and sweat pricked out under my arms and down my back. I pulled out my handkerchief and mopped my brow... I could get inside [a] stall and be out of the sun, but then I might miss Jem.
I stood up and spied a long strip of shadow under the hedgerow on the other side of the lane. It would be cooler there. I opened the gate, crossed the lane, and edged into the shade.
The hedgerow was not quite high enough and my head and shoulders were still full in the sun. I could not sit in the dust of the road, but I stepped across the ditch and up onto the verge, which rose a little above the level of the lane at that point. I turned and stood in the long grass. Now I was in the shade of the hedge and, moreover, from my vantage point had an excellent view of the house and both gates. There was even a breeze coming through the hedgerow, pleasantly cool upon my back.
Now I could not miss him.
“A slender pool lay at our feet, four or five yards across at the widest point and perhaps half as deep. A huge old willow grew upstream and in narrowing to flow around this giant, the water had carved out this trough for itself before flowing on. All was in shade but for a dappling of gold and a single ray of sunlight which passed through the willow’s branches and pierced the water like a coppery sword.”
Or “There was a spiderweb, jewelled with dew. There, a hawthorn’s scarlet hips, miraculously missed by squirrels and birds. A russet carpet of leaves lay beneath the trees and everywhere there was a rich scent like Mrs Fowke’s good plum cake. I swung my stick and strode along, spirits rising. I might find some interesting new plant to tell Jem about. Perhaps I could collect an unfamiliar seedpod and we could sow it come spring and find out what it was.”
Or “Every time we reached the pool, I looked for the sticklebacks, and the ferns which grew in the cool place beneath the fallen tree, and for the sword of sunlight piercing the water. Then, once we were in the water, we would lounge at the head of the pool, where, above us, hung always a velvety brown spider in her place in the centre of her web. I do not much care for spiders usually, and had she lived anywhere in the rectory I should have instructed Milly to remove her forthwith. But down by the pool, I liked to see her because she was a part of it all and belonged there. I looked for her as one might look for a friend.”