fandomhigh | Practical Etiquette, Period 3, Class #7

Miss Bennet was a generous, kind soul who would never place her students in any real danger. But she was going to amuse herself at their expense. Somehow, teaching etiquette did not preclude her from misbehaving.

Oh, this would be fun.

"Good morning," Miss Bennet said, clapping her hands in front of herself. "As I warned you last week, you do, in fact, have a final exam today. That is why I have asked all of you to assemble here, in the Danger Shop. Your exam will be a test of many of the principles we have learned over our short weeks together -- how to be social and civil even in circumstances which may be considered less than ideal.

"In this next room," she said, gesturing through the doorway, "is a gentleman by the name of the Reverend William Collins. He wishes to propose marriage to you, for varying reasons, which he will list for you at the slightest provocation. I assure you, you do not wish to accept his proposal. However.

"You cannot simply stride into the next room and call him rude names. The laws of inheritance state that Mr. Collins is next in line for your estate; should your father fall ill this very evening, and pass away, then by dawn, your house and all your possessions will belong to Mr. Collins. Making an enemy of him will have very real and very dire consequences.

"Walk that particular balance as best you can. Persuade him that you do not wish to marry. Spare his feelings. Dissuade him from wishing to offer for you. This is your final exam: refusing Mr. Collins's proposal while not causing him to throw your family out onto the street." Her smile was nearly evil. "Good luck. I do believe you shall need it."

(OCD COMING!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mr. Collins was taken aback. He frowned at Triela.

"My situation in life, my connection to the noble family of de Bourgh -- all of these are circumstances highly in my favour. You cannot be serious, in your refusal." His face brightened again. "I will, of course, assume that you are hoping to increase my love through suspense, and turning down my advances that I might ask again."

Triela considered her options. Her first choice, hitting him, was right out. Same for her second choice which involved really heavy amounts of sarcasm.

Which left her with option three: uncomfortable truths. "I'm afraid it would end poorly because you'd make a terrible widower," she said trying (and generally failing) to sound sympathetic. At least that was true. He seemed to make a terrible man, after all. "You see, I have a disease that is sure to kill me before my twentieth birthday." Also true, if you were willing to stretch the definition of 'disease'.

"And I'd hate to think of you all alone without me." Okay, that part was a lie.

"A ... disease?" Mr. Collins asked, pulling his hands back to himself rather sharply, lest the girl be contagious in some manner. "Your excellent mother ... never mentioned that you were ill."

Had she been trying to pawn off a sickly, unmarriageable daughter on a poor, unsuspecting clergyman!? And he had trusted her.

"It is not contagious," Triela insisted as sudden inspiration struck her and she reached for his arm. "At least probably not. And I'm sure that the purity of your love will protect you."

"Of course," Mr. Collins said quickly, taking a small step away from Triela. And another one, just to be certain. "Our Lord watches over his flock, especially those who serve Him. I am, naturally, safe. Though I am ... quite sorry to hear of your affliction, my dearest. Is there nothing that can be done?"

He was trying to look sympathetic. Really, he was wondering if the girl had coughed on him. She hadn't, had she?

"Perhaps," Triela tried to look innocent and perhaps a bit desperate (she wasn't very good at it), "I spoke to soon. You might be a comfort to me in my last days."

"Would you really wish to be in Kent, so far from your family?" Mr. Collins said, heaving a sigh and trying not to appear panicked. "I should not wish to spirit you away from them, so soon before they are to lose an angel to Heaven itself. It would be unspeakably cruel, to your mother. I won't hear of it."

"It would be hard, but your eloquent words and obvious devotion have won me over," she insisted. Or, well, tried to insist. Because Triela and acting were only passing acquaintances and she didn't sound very convincing, even to herself.

Practical Etiquette, Period 3, Class #7 - Thursday, June 25th

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]

Re: Mr. Collins's Proposal [ET-7]