But now they were at the ball, and the box party was all attention. The Prince, dignified and a little stiff, reminded Elizabeth of Mr. Darcy. But guests so strange as Mutt and Jeff, she thought, would never be allowed to pollute the shades of Pemberley. Mr. Collins’s usually cold composure forsook him at the sight of the Baroness playing cards with the Baron on one of her _paniers_ as a table, and felt it his duty to apologize to Lady Catherine for the unseemly incident. “If your ladyship will warrant me,” he began, “I will point out to my cousin that neither a person of your high station nor a clergyman of the Church of England ought to be asked to witness this licentiousness of behaviour.” “And advise him,” said her ladyship, “on the authority of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, that _paniers_ were never used for this disgraceful purpose. There is no one in England who knows more about _paniers_ than myself, for my grandmother, Lady Anne, wore them, and some day Mrs. Jennings, the housekeeper, shall show them to Miss Bennet,” for Elizabeth could not forbear a smile, “at Rosings.” The party retired early, for Elizabeth had to be conveyed to her uncle’s as far as Gracechurch Street, and Lady Catherine desired the interval of a long night before choosing her new bonnet. It was not until Mr. Collins was once more in his parsonage that he sent his cousin an acknowledgment of the entertainment afforded at Drury Lane, as follows:— “HUNSFORD, _near_ WESTERHAM, KENT, “_January, 19—_.