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diff --git a/old/21839-8.txt b/old/21839-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 615bcbb..0000000 --- a/old/21839-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13655 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Sense and Sensibility - -Author: Jane Austen - -Commentator: Austin Dobson - -Illustrator: Hugh Thomson - -Release Date: June 15, 2007 [EBook #21839] -[Last updated: February 11, 2015] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE AND SENSIBILITY *** - - - - -Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall and Sankar Viswanathan (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Print project.) - - - - - - - - - - Transcriber's Note: - -The Table of Contents is not part of the original book. The illustration -on page 290 is missing from the book. The Introduction ends abruptly. -Seems incomplete. - - - [Illustration: _Mr. Dashwood introduced him._--P. 219.] - - - - SENSE & SENSIBILITY - - - - BY - - JANE AUSTEN - - - - WITH AN INTRODUCTION - - - BY - - AUSTIN DOBSON - - - - ILLUSTRATED - - - BY - - HUGH THOMSON - - - - - - - LONDON: MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - - NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - - 1902 - - - - _First Edition with Hugh Thomson's Illustrations_ 1896 - - * * * * * - - - - -CONTENTS - - -INTRODUCTION -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS -CHAPTER I -CHAPTER II -CHAPTER III -CHAPTER IV -CHAPTER V -CHAPTER VI -CHAPTER VII -CHAPTER VIII -CHAPTER IX -CHAPTER X -CHAPTER XI -CHAPTER XII -CHAPTER XIII -CHAPTER XIV -CHAPTER XV -CHAPTER XVI -CHAPTER XVII -CHAPTER XVIII -CHAPTER XIX -CHAPTER XX -CHAPTER XXI -CHAPTER XXII -CHAPTER XXIII -CHAPTER XXIV -CHAPTER XXV -CHAPTER XXVI -CHAPTER XXVII -CHAPTER XXVIII -CHAPTER XXIX -CHAPTER XXX -CHAPTER XXXI -CHAPTER XXXII -CHAPTER XXXIII -CHAPTER XXXIV -CHAPTER XXXV -CHAPTER XXXVI -CHAPTER XXXVII -CHAPTER XXXVIII -CHAPTER XXXIX -CHAPTER XL -CHAPTER XLI -CHAPTER XLII -CHAPTER XLIII -CHAPTER XLIV -CHAPTER XLV -CHAPTER XLVI -CHAPTER XLVII -CHAPTER XLVIII -CHAPTER XLIX -CHAPTER L - - * * * * * - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -With the title of _Sense and Sensibility_ is connected one of those minor -problems which delight the cummin-splitters of criticism. In the _Cecilia_ -of Madame D'Arblay--the forerunner, if not the model, of Miss Austen--is a -sentence which at first sight suggests some relationship to the name of -the book which, in the present series, inaugurated Miss Austen's novels. -'The whole of this unfortunate business'--says a certain didactic Dr. -Lyster, talking in capitals, towards the end of volume three of -_Cecilia_--'has been the result of PRIDE and PREJUDICE,' and looking to -the admitted familiarity of Miss Austen with Madame D'Arblay's work, it -has been concluded that Miss Austen borrowed from _Cecilia_, the title of -her second novel. But here comes in the little problem to which we have -referred. _Pride and Prejudice_ it is true, was written and finished -before _Sense and Sensibility_--its original title for several years being -_First Impressions_. Then, in 1797, the author fell to work upon an older -essay in letters _à la_ Richardson, called _Elinor and Marianne_, which -she re-christened _Sense and Sensibility._ This, as we know, was her first -published book; and whatever may be the connection between the title of -_Pride and Prejudice_ and the passage in _Cecilia_, there is an obvious -connection between the title of _Pride and Prejudice_ and the _title of -Sense and Sensibility_. If Miss Austen re-christened _Elinor and -Marianne_ before she changed the title of _First Impressions_, as she well -may have, it is extremely unlikely that the name of _Pride and Prejudice_ -has anything to do with _Cecilia_ (which, besides, had been published at -least twenty years before). Upon the whole, therefore, it is most likely -that the passage in Madame D'Arblay is a mere coincidence; and that in -_Sense and Sensibility_, as well as in the novel that succeeded it in -publication, Miss Austen, after the fashion of the old morality plays, -simply substituted the leading characteristics of her principal personages -for their names. Indeed, in _Sense and Sensibility_ the sense of Elinor, -and the sensibility (or rather _sensiblerie_) of Marianne, are markedly -emphasised in the opening pages of the book But Miss Austen subsequently, -and, as we think, wisely, discarded in her remaining efforts the cheap -attraction of an alliterative title. _Emma_ and _Persuasion, Northanger -Abbey_ and _Mansfield Park_, are names far more in consonance with the -quiet tone of her easy and unobtrusive art. - -_Elinor and Marianne_ was originally written about 1792. After the -completion--or partial completion, for it was again revised in -1811--of _First Impressions_ (subsequently _Pride and Prejudice_), -Miss Austen set about recasting _Elinor and Marianne_, then composed -in the form of letters; and she had no sooner accomplished this task, -than she began _Northanger Abbey_. It would be interesting to know to -what extent she remodelled _Sense and Sensibility_ in 1797-98, for we -are told that previous to its publication in 1811 she again devoted a -considerable time to its preparation for the press, and it is clear -that this does not mean the correction of proofs alone, but also a -preliminary revision of MS. Especially would it be interesting if we -could ascertain whether any of its more finished passages, _e.g._ the -admirable conversation between the Miss Dashwoods and Willoughby in -chapter x., were the result of those fallow and apparently barren -years at Bath and Southampton, or whether they were already part of -the second version of 1797-98. But upon this matter the records are -mute. A careful examination of the correspondence published by Lord -Brabourne in 1884 only reveals two definite references to _Sense and -Sensibility_ and these are absolutely unfruitful in suggestion. In -April 1811 she speaks of having corrected two sheets of 'S and S,' -which she has scarcely a hope of getting out in the following June; -and in September, an extract from the diary of another member of the -family indirectly discloses the fact that the book had by that time -been published. This extract is a brief reference to a letter which -had been received from Cassandra Austen, begging her correspondent not -to mention that Aunt Jane wrote _Sense and Sensibility._ Beyond these -minute items of information, and the statement--already referred to in -the Introduction to _Pride and Prejudice_--that she considered herself -overpaid for the labour she had bestowed upon it, absolutely nothing -seems to have been preserved by her descendants respecting her first -printed effort. In the absence of particulars some of her critics have -fallen to speculate upon the reason which made her select it, and not -_Pride and Prejudice_, for her début; and they have, perhaps -naturally, found in the fact a fresh confirmation of that traditional -blindness of authors to their own best work, which is one of the -commonplaces of literary history. But this is to premise that she -_did_ regard it as her masterpiece, a fact which, apart from this -accident of priority of issue, is, as far as we are aware, nowhere -asserted. A simpler solution is probably that, of the three novels she -had written or sketched by 1811, _Pride and Prejudice_ was languishing -under the stigma of having been refused by one bookseller without the -formality of inspection, while _Northanger Abbey_ was lying _perdu_ in -another bookseller's drawer at Bath. In these circumstances it is -intelligible that she should turn to _Sense and Sensibility_, when, at -length--upon the occasion of a visit to her brother in London in the -spring of 1811--Mr. T. Egerton of the 'Military Library,' Whitehall, -dawned upon the horizon as a practicable publisher. - -By the time _Sense and Sensibility_ left the press, Miss Austen was -again domiciled at Chawton Cottage. For those accustomed to the -swarming reviews of our day, with their Babel of notices, it may seem -strange that there should be no record of the effect produced, seeing -that, as already stated, the book sold well enough to enable its -putter-forth to hand over to its author what Mr. Gargery, in _Great -Expectations_, would have described as 'a cool £150.' Surely Mr. -Egerton, who had visited Miss Austen at Sloane Street, must have later -conveyed to her some intelligence of the way in which her work had -been welcomed by the public. But if he did, it is no longer -discoverable. Mr. Austen Leigh, her first and best biographer, could -find no account either of the publication or of the author's feelings -thereupon. As far as it is possible to judge, the critical verdicts -she obtained were mainly derived from her own relatives and intimate -friends, and some of these latter--if one may trust a little anthology -which she herself collected, and from which Mr. Austen Leigh prints -extracts--must have been more often exasperating than sympathetic. The -long chorus of intelligent approval by which she was afterwards -greeted did not begin to be really audible before her death, and her -'fit audience' during her lifetime must have been emphatically 'few,' -Of two criticisms which came out in the _Quarterly_ early in the -century, she could only have seen one, that of 1815; the other, by -Archbishop Whately, the first which treated her in earnest, did not -appear until she had been three years dead. Dr. Whately deals mainly -with _Mansfield Park_ and _Persuasion_; his predecessor professed to -review _Emma_, though he also gives brief summaries of _Sense and -Sensibility_ and _Pride and Prejudice_. Mr. Austen Leigh, we think, -speaks too contemptuously of this initial notice of 1815. If, at -certain points, it is half-hearted and inadequate, it is still fairly -accurate in its recognition of Miss Austen's supreme merit, as -contrasted with her contemporaries--to wit, her skill in investing the -fortunes of ordinary characters and the narrative of common -occurrences with all the sustained excitement of romance. The Reviewer -points out very justly that this kind of work, 'being deprived of all -that, according to Bayes, goes "to elevate and surprise," must make -amends by displaying depth of knowledge and dexterity of execution.' -And in these qualities, even with such living competitors of her own -sex as Miss Edgeworth and Miss Brunton (whose _Self-control_ came out -in the same year as _Sense and Sensibility_), he does not scruple to -declare that 'Miss Austen stands almost alone.' If he omits to lay -stress upon her judgment, her nice sense of fitness, her restraint, -her fine irony, and the delicacy of her artistic touch, something must -be allowed for the hesitations and reservations which invariably beset -the critical pioneer. - -To contend, however, for a moment that the present volume is Miss -Austen's greatest, as it was her first published, novel, would be a -mere exercise in paradox. There are, who swear by _Persuasion_; there -are, who prefer _Emma_ and _Mansfield Park_; there is a large -contingent for _Pride and Prejudice_; and there is even a section -which advocates the pre-eminence of _Northanger Abbey_. But no one, as -far as we can remember, has ever put _Sense and Sensibility_ first, -nor can we believe that its author did so herself. And yet it is she -herself who has furnished the standard by which we judge it, and it is -by comparison with _Pride and Prejudice_, in which the leading -characters are also two sisters, that we assess and depress its merit. -The Elinor and Marianne of _Sense and Sensibility_ are only inferior -when they are contrasted with the Elizabeth and Jane of _Pride and -Prejudice_; and even then, it is probably because we personally like -the handsome and amiable Jane Bennet rather better than the obsolete -survival of the sentimental novel represented by Marianne Dashwood. -Darcy and Bingley again are much more 'likeable' (to use Lady -Queensberry's word) than the colourless Edward Ferrars and the -stiff-jointed Colonel Brandon. Yet it might not unfairly be contended -that there is more fidelity to what Mr. Thomas Hardy has termed -'life's little ironies' in Miss Austen's disposal of the two Miss -Dashwoods than there is in her disposal of the heroines of _Pride and -Prejudice_. Every one does not get a Bingley, or a Darcy (with a -park); but a good many sensible girls like Elinor pair off contentedly -with poor creatures like Edward Ferrars, while not a few enthusiasts -like Marianne decline at last upon middle-aged colonels with flannel -waistcoats. George Eliot, we fancy, would have held that the fates of -Elinor and Marianne were more probable than the fortunes of Jane and -Eliza Bennet. That, of the remaining characters, there is certainly -none to rival Mr. Bennet, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, or the -ineffable Mr. Collins, of _Pride and Prejudice_, is true; but we -confess to a kindness for vulgar matchmaking Mrs. Jennings with her -still-room 'parmaceti for an inward bruise' in the shape of a glass of -old Constantia; and for the diluted Squire Western, Sir John -Middleton, whose horror of being alone carries him to the point of -rejoicing in the acquisition of _two_ to the population of London. -Excellent again are Mr. Palmer and his wife; excellent, in their -sordid veracity, the self-seeking figures of the Miss Steeles. But the -pearls of the book must be allowed to be that egregious amateur in -toothpick-cases, Mr. Robert Ferrars (with his excursus in chapter -xxxvi. on life in a cottage), and the admirably-matched Mr. and Mrs. -John Dashwood. Miss Austen herself has never done anything better than -the inimitable and oft-quoted chapter wherein is debated between the -last-named pair the momentous matter of the amount to be devoted to -Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters; while the suggestion in chapters -xxxiii. and xxxiv. that the owner of Norland was once within some -thousands of having to sell out at a loss, deserves to be remembered -with that other memorable escape of Sir Roger de Coverley's ancestor, -who was only not killed in the civil wars because 'he was sent out of -the field upon a private message, the day before the battle of -Worcester.' - -Of local colouring there is as little in _Sense and Sensibility_ as in -_Pride and Prejudice_. It is not unlikely that some memories of -Steventon may survive in Norland; and it may be noted that there is -actually a Barton Place to the north of Exeter, not far from Lord -Iddesleigh's well-known seat of Upton Pynes. It is scarcely possible, -also, not to believe that, in Mrs. Jennings's description of -Delaford--'a nice place, I can tell you; exactly what I call a nice -old-fashioned place, full of comforts and conveniences; quite shut in -with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in -the country; and such a mulberry tree in one corner!'--Miss Austen had -in mind some real Hampshire or Devonshire country house. In any case, -it comes nearer a picture than what we usually get from her pen. 'Then -there is a dovecote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a very pretty -canal; and everything, in short, that one could wish for; and, -moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile -from the turnpike-road, so 'tis never dull, for if you only go and sit -up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the -carriages that pass along.' The last lines suggest those quaint -'gazebos' and alcoves, which, in the coaching days, were so often to -be found perched at the roadside, where one might sit and watch the -Dover or Canterbury stage go whirling by. Of genteel accomplishments -there is a touch In the 'landscape in coloured silks' which Charlotte -Palmer had worked at school (chap, xxvi.); and of old remedies for the -lost art of swooning, in the 'lavender drops' of chapter xxix. The -mention of a dance as a 'little hop' in chapter ix. reads like a -premature instance of middle Victorian slang. But nothing is new--even -in a novel--and 'hop,' in this sense, is at least as old as _Joseph -Andrews_. - - * * * * * - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - -Mr. Dashwood introduced him _Frontispiece_ - -His son's son, a child of four years old - -"I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it" - -So shy before company - -They sang together - -He cut off a long lock of her hair - -"I have found you out in spite of all your tricks" - -Apparently In violent affliction - -Begging her to stop - -Came to take a survey of the guest - -"I declare they are quite charming" - -Mischievous tricks - -Drinking to her best affections - -Amiably bashful - -"I can answer for it," said Mrs. Jennings - -At that moment she first perceived him - -"How fond he was of it!" - -Offered him one of Folly's puppies - -A very smart beau - -Introduced to Mrs. Jennings - -Mrs. Jennings assured him directly that she should not stand -upon ceremony - -Mrs. Ferrars - -Drawing him a little aside - -In a whisper - -"You have heard, I suppose" - -Talking over the business - -"She put in the feather last night" - -Listening at the door - -Both gained considerable amusement - -"Of one thing I may assure you" - -Showing her child to the housekeeper - -The gardener's lamentations - -Opened a window-shutter - -"I entreat you to stay" - -"I was formally dismissed" - -"I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight" - -"And see how the children go on" - -"I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is married" - -It _was_ Edward - -"Everything in such respectable condition" - - * * * * * - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate -was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of -their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so -respectable a manner as to engage the general good opinion of their -surrounding acquaintance. The late owner of this estate was a single -man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for many years of his -life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister. But her -death, which happened ten years before his own, produced a great -alteration in his home; for to supply her loss, he invited and -received into his house the family of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, -the legal inheritor of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he -intended to bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, and -their children, the old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent. His -attachment to them all increased. The constant attention of Mr. and -Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from -interest, but from goodness of heart, gave him every degree of solid -comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the -children added a relish to his existence. - -By a former marriage, Mr. Henry Dashwood had one son: by his present -lady, three daughters. The son, a steady respectable young man, was -amply provided for by the fortune of his mother, which had been large, -and half of which devolved on him on his coming of age. By his own -marriage, likewise, which happened soon afterwards, he added to his -wealth. To him therefore the succession to the Norland estate was not -so really important as to his sisters; for their fortune, independent -of what might arise to them from their father's inheriting that -property, could be but small. Their mother had nothing, and their -father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal; for the -remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was also secured to her -child, and he had only a life-interest in it. - -The old gentleman died: his will was read, and like almost every -other will, gave as much disappointment as pleasure. He was neither so -unjust, nor so ungrateful, as to leave his estate from his nephew; but -he left it to him on such terms as destroyed half the value of the -bequest. Mr. Dashwood had wished for it more for the sake of his wife -and daughters than for himself or his son; but to his son, and his -son's son, a child of four years old, it was secured, in such a way, -as to leave to himself no power of providing for those who were most -dear to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge on the -estate, or by any sale of its valuable woods. The whole was tied up -for the benefit of this child, who, in occasional visits with his -father and mother at Norland, had so far gained on the affections of -his uncle, by such attractions as are by no means unusual in children -of two or three years old; an imperfect articulation, an earnest -desire of having his own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of -noise, as to outweigh all the value of all the attention which, for -years, he had received from his niece and her daughters. He meant not -to be unkind, however, and, as a mark of his affection for the three -girls, he left them a thousand pounds a-piece. - -Mr. Dashwood's disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper -was cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many -years, and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the -produce of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate -improvement. But the fortune, which had been so tardy in coming, was -his only one twelvemonth. He survived his uncle no longer; and ten -thousand pounds, including the late legacies, was all that remained -for his widow and daughters. - -His son was sent for as soon as his danger was known, and to him Mr. -Dashwood recommended, with all the strength and urgency which illness -could command, the interest of his mother-in-law and sisters. - -Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the rest of the -family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at -such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make -them comfortable. His father was rendered easy by such an assurance, -and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how much there -might prudently be in his power to do for them. - -[Illustration: _His son's son, a child of four years old._] - -He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold hearted -and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well -respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of -his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, he might -have been made still more respectable than he was: he might even have -been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and -very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature -of himself; more narrow-minded and selfish. - -When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to -increase the fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand -pounds a-piece. He then really thought himself equal to it. The -prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, -besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, warmed his -heart, and made him feel capable of generosity. "Yes, he would give -them three thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would -be enough to make them completely easy. Three thousand pounds! he -could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience." He -thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did -not repent. - -No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood, -without sending any notice of her intention to her mother-in-law, -arrived with her child and their attendants. No one could dispute her -right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his -father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the -greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only common -feelings, must have been highly unpleasing. But in _her_ mind there -was a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any -offence of the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a -source of immovable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a -favourite with any of her husband's family; but she had had no -opportunity, till the present, of showing them with how little -attention to the comfort of other people she could act when occasion -required it. - -So acutely did Mrs. Dashwood feel this ungracious behaviour, and so -earnestly did she despise her daughter-in-law for it, that, on the -arrival of the latter, she would have quitted the house for ever, had -not the entreaty of her eldest girl induced her first to reflect on -the propriety of going, and her own tender love for all her three -children determined her afterwards to stay, and for their sakes avoid -a breach with their brother. - -Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed -a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified -her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and -enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, -that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led -to imprudence. She had an excellent heart; her disposition was -affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern -them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which -one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught. - -Marianne's abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor's. -She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her -joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable, -interesting: she was everything but prudent. The resemblance between -her and her mother was strikingly great. - -Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but -by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued and cherished. They encouraged each -other now in the violence of their affliction. The agony of grief -which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought -for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to -their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection -that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation -in future. Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could -struggle, she could exert herself. She could consult with her brother, -could receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with -proper attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar -exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance. - -Margaret, the other sister, was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; -but as she had already imbibed a good deal of Marianne's romance, -without having much of her sense, she did not, at thirteen, bid fair -to equal her sisters at a more advanced period of life. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -Mrs. John Dashwood now installed herself mistress of Norland; and her -mother and sisters-in-law were degraded to the condition of visitors. -As such, however, they were treated by her with quiet civility; and by -her husband with as much kindness as he could feel towards anybody -beyond himself, his wife, and their child. He really pressed them, -with some earnestness, to consider Norland as their home; and, as no -plan appeared so eligible to Mrs. Dashwood as remaining there till she -could accommodate herself with a house in the neighbourhood, his -invitation was accepted. - -A continuance in a place where everything reminded her of former -delight, was exactly what suited her mind. In seasons of cheerfulness, -no temper could be more cheerful than hers, or possess, in a greater -degree, that sanguine expectation of happiness which is happiness -itself. But in sorrow she must be equally carried away by her fancy, -and as far beyond consolation as in pleasure she was beyond alloy. - -Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her husband intended -to do for his sisters. To take three thousand pounds from the fortune -of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him to the most -dreadful degree. She begged him to think again on the subject. How -could he answer it to himself to rob his child, and his only child -too, of so large a sum? And what possible claim could the Miss -Dashwoods, who were related to him only by half blood, which she -considered as no relationship at all, have on his generosity to so -large an amount. It was very well known that no affection was ever -supposed to exist between the children of any man by different -marriages; and why was he to ruin himself, and their poor little -Harry, by giving away all his money to his half sisters? - -"It was my father's last request to me," replied her husband, "that I -should assist his widow and daughters." - -"He did not know what he was talking of, I dare say; ten to one but he -was light-headed at the time. Had he been in his right senses, he -could not have thought of such a thing as begging you to give away -half your fortune from your own child." - -"He did not stipulate for any particular sum, my dear Fanny; he only -requested me, in general terms, to assist them, and make their -situation more comfortable than it was in his power to do. Perhaps it -would have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself. He could -hardly suppose I should neglect them. But as he required the promise, -I could not do less than give it; at least I thought so at the time. -The promise, therefore, was given, and must be performed. Something -must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and settle in a new -home." - -"Well, then, _let_ something be done for them; but _that_ something -need not be three thousand pounds. Consider," she added, "that when -the money is once parted with, it never can return. Your sisters will -marry, and it will be gone for ever. If, indeed, it could be restored -to our poor little boy--" - -"Why, to be sure," said her husband, very gravely, "that would make -great difference. The time may come when Harry will regret that so -large a sum was parted with. If he should have a numerous family, for -instance, it would be a very convenient addition." - -"To be sure it would." - -"Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, if the sum were -diminished one half. Five hundred pounds would be a prodigious -increase to their fortunes!" - -"Oh! beyond anything great! What brother on earth would do half so -much for his sisters, even if _really_ his sisters! And as it is--only -half blood! But you have such a generous spirit!" - -"I would not wish to do any thing mean," he replied. "One had rather, -on such occasions, do too much than too little. No one, at least, can -think I have not done enough for them: even themselves, they can -hardly expect more." - -"There is no knowing what _they_ may expect," said the lady, "but we -are not to think of their expectations: the question is, what you can -afford to do." - -"Certainly; and I think I may afford to give them five hundred pounds -a-piece. As it is, without any addition of mine, they will each have -about three thousand pounds on their mother's death--a very -comfortable fortune for any young woman." - -"To be sure it is; and, indeed, it strikes me that they can want no -addition at all. They will have ten thousand pounds divided amongst -them. If they marry, they will be sure of doing well, and if they do -not, they may all live very comfortably together on the interest of -ten thousand pounds." - -"That is very true, and, therefore, I do not know whether, upon the -whole, it would not be more advisable to do something for their mother -while she lives, rather than for them--something of the annuity kind I -mean. My sisters would feel the good effects of it as well as herself. -A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable." - -His wife hesitated a little, however, in giving her consent to this -plan. - -"To be sure," said she, "it is better than parting with fifteen -hundred pounds at once. But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood should live -fifteen years we shall be completely taken in." - -"Fifteen years! my dear Fanny; her life cannot be worth half that -purchase." - -"Certainly not; but if you observe, people always live for ever when -there is an annuity to be paid them; and she is very stout and -healthy, and hardly forty. An annuity is a very serious business; it -comes over and over every year, and there is no getting rid of it. You -are not aware of what you are doing. I have known a great deal of the -trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of -three to old superannuated servants by my father's will, and it is -amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these -annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting -it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards -it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her -income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; -and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money -would have been entirely at my mother's disposal, without any -restriction whatever. It has given me such an abhorrence of annuities, -that I am sure I would not pin myself down to the payment of one for -all the world." - -"It is certainly an unpleasant thing," replied Mr. Dashwood, "to have -those kind of yearly drains on one's income. One's fortune, as your -mother justly says, is _not_ one's own. To be tied down to the regular -payment of such a sum, on every rent day, is by no means desirable: it -takes away one's independence." - -"Undoubtedly; and after all you have no thanks for it. They think -themselves secure, you do no more than what is expected, and it raises -no gratitude at all. If I were you, whatever I did should be done at -my own discretion entirely. I would not bind myself to allow them any -thing yearly. It may be very inconvenient some years to spare a -hundred, or even fifty pounds from our own expenses." - -"I believe you are right, my love; it will be better that there should -be no annuity in the case; whatever I may give them occasionally will -be of far greater assistance than a yearly allowance, because they -would only enlarge their style of living if they felt sure of a larger -income, and would not be sixpence the richer for it at the end of the -year. It will certainly be much the best way. A present of fifty -pounds, now and then, will prevent their ever being distressed for -money, and will, I think, be amply discharging my promise to my -father." - -"To be sure it will. Indeed, to say the truth, I am convinced within -myself that your father had no idea of your giving them any money at -all. The assistance he thought of, I dare say, was only such as might -be reasonably expected of you; for instance, such as looking out for a -comfortable small house for them, helping them to move their things, -and sending them presents of fish and game, and so forth, whenever -they are in season. I'll lay my life that he meant nothing farther; -indeed, it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did. Do but -consider, my dear Mr. Dashwood, how excessively comfortable your -mother-in-law and her daughters may live on the interest of seven -thousand pounds, besides the thousand pounds belonging to each of the -girls, which brings them in fifty pounds a year a-piece, and, of -course, they will pay their mother for their board out of it. -Altogether, they will have five hundred a-year amongst them, and what -on earth can four women want for more than that?--They will live so -cheap! Their housekeeping will be nothing at all. They will have no -carriage, no horses, and hardly any servants; they will keep no -company, and can have no expenses of any kind! Only conceive how -comfortable they will be! Five hundred a year! I am sure I cannot -imagine how they will spend half of it; and as to your giving them -more, it is quite absurd to think of it. They will be much more able -to give _you_ something." - -"Upon my word," said Mr. Dashwood, "I believe you are perfectly right. -My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than -what you say. I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil -my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness to them as you -have described. When my mother removes into another house my services -shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can. Some little -present of furniture too may be acceptable then." - -"Certainly," returned Mrs. John Dashwood. "But, however, _one_ thing -must be considered. When your father and mother moved to Norland, -though the furniture of Stanhill was sold, all the china, plate, and -linen was saved, and is now left to your mother. Her house will -therefore be almost completely fitted up as soon as she takes it." - -"That is a material consideration undoubtedly. A valuable legacy -indeed! And yet some of the plate would have been a very pleasant -addition to our own stock here." - -"Yes; and the set of breakfast china is twice as handsome as what -belongs to this house. A great deal too handsome, in my opinion, for -any place _they_ can ever afford to live in. But, however, so it is. -Your father thought only of _them_ And I must say this: that you owe -no particular gratitude to him, nor attention to his wishes; for we -very well know that if he could, he would have left almost everything -in the world to _them._" - -This argument was irresistible. It gave to his intentions whatever of -decision was wanting before; and he finally resolved, that it would be -absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous, to do more for the -widow and children of his father, than such kind of neighbourly acts -as his own wife pointed out. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Mrs. Dashwood remained at Norland several months; not from any -disinclination to move when the sight of every well known spot ceased -to raise the violent emotion which it produced for a while; for when -her spirits began to revive, and her mind became capable of some other -exertion than that of heightening its affliction by melancholy -remembrances, she was impatient to be gone, and indefatigable in her -inquiries for a suitable dwelling in the neighbourhood of Norland; for -to remove far from that beloved spot was impossible. But she could -hear of no situation that at once answered her notions of comfort and -ease, and suited the prudence of her eldest daughter, whose steadier -judgment rejected several houses as too large for their income, which -her mother would have approved. - -[Illustration: "_I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it._"] - -Mrs. Dashwood had been informed by her husband of the solemn promise -on the part of his son in their favour, which gave comfort to his last -earthly reflections. She doubted the sincerity of this assurance no -more than he had doubted it himself, and she thought of it for her -daughters' sake with satisfaction, though as for herself she was -persuaded that a much smaller provision than 7000L would support her -in affluence. For their brother's sake, too, for the sake of his own -heart, she rejoiced; and she reproached herself for being unjust to -his merit before, in believing him incapable of generosity. His -attentive behaviour to herself and his sisters convinced her that -their welfare was dear to him, and, for a long time, she firmly relied -on the liberality of his intentions. - -The contempt which she had, very early in their acquaintance, felt for -her daughter-in-law, was very much increased by the farther knowledge -of her character, which half a year's residence in her family -afforded; and perhaps in spite of every consideration of politeness or -maternal affection on the side of the former, the two ladies might -have found it impossible to have lived together so long, had not a -particular circumstance occurred to give still greater eligibility, -according to the opinions of Mrs. Dashwood, to her daughters' -continuance at Norland. - -This circumstance was a growing attachment between her eldest girl and -the brother of Mrs. John Dashwood, a gentlemanlike and pleasing young -man, who was introduced to their acquaintance soon after his sister's -establishment at Norland, and who had since spent the greatest part of -his time there. - -Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of -interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died -very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence, -for, except a trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the -will of his mother. But Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either -consideration. It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable, -that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor returned the partiality. -It was contrary to every doctrine of her's that difference of fortune -should keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of -disposition; and that Elinor's merit should not be acknowledged by -every one who knew her, was to her comprehension impossible. - -Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good opinion by any -peculiar graces of person or address. He was not handsome, and his -manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. He was too diffident -to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome, -his behaviour gave every indication of an open, affectionate heart. -His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid -improvement. But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to -answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who longed to see him -distinguished as--they hardly knew what. They wanted him to make a -fine figure in the world in some manner or other. His mother wished to -interest him in political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to -see him connected with some of the great men of the day. Mrs. John -Dashwood wished it likewise; but in the mean while, till one of these -superior blessings could be attained, it would have quieted her -ambition to see him driving a barouche. But Edward had no turn for -great men or barouches. All his wishes centered in domestic comfort -and the quiet of private life. Fortunately he had a younger brother -who was more promising. - -Edward had been staying several weeks in the house before he engaged -much of Mrs. Dashwood's attention; for she was, at that time, in such -affliction as rendered her careless of surrounding objects. She saw -only that he was quiet and unobtrusive, and she liked him for it. He -did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed -conversation. She was first called to observe and approve him farther, -by a reflection which Elinor chanced one day to make on the -difference between him and his sister. It was a contrast which -recommended him most forcibly to her mother. - -"It is enough," said she; "to say that he is unlike Fanny is enough. -It implies everything amiable. I love him already." - -"I think you will like him," said Elinor, "when you know more of him." - -"Like him!" replied her mother with a smile. "I feel no sentiment of -approbation inferior to love." - -"You may esteem him." - -"I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love." - -Mrs. Dashwood now took pains to get acquainted with him. Her manners -were attaching, and soon banished his reserve. She speedily -comprehended all his merits; the persuasion of his regard for Elinor -perhaps assisted her penetration; but she really felt assured of his -worth: and even that quietness of manner, which militated against all -her established ideas of what a young man's address ought to be, was -no longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm and his -temper affectionate. - -No sooner did she perceive any symptom of love in his behaviour to -Elinor, than she considered their serious attachment as certain, and -looked forward to their marriage as rapidly approaching. - -"In a few months, my dear Marianne," said she, "Elinor will, in all -probability be settled for life. We shall miss her; but _she_ will be -happy." - -"Oh! Mamma, how shall we do without her?" - -"My love, it will be scarcely a separation. We shall live within a few -miles of each other, and shall meet every day of our lives. You will -gain a brother--a real, affectionate brother. I have the highest -opinion in the world of Edward's heart. But you look grave, Marianne; -do you disapprove your sister's choice?" - -"Perhaps," said Marianne, "I may consider it with some surprise. -Edward is very amiable, and I love him tenderly. But yet--he is not -the kind of young man; there is something wanting--his figure is not -striking; it has none of that grace which I should expect in the man -who could seriously attach my sister. His eyes want all that spirit, -that fire, which at once announce virtue and intelligence. And besides -all this, I am afraid, Mamma, he has no real taste. Music seems -scarcely to attract him, and though he admires Elinor's drawings very -much, it is not the admiration of a person who can understand their -worth. It is evident, in spite of his frequent attention to her while -she draws, that in fact he knows nothing of the matter. He admires as -a lover, not as a connoisseur. To satisfy me, those characters must be -united. I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every -point coincide with my own. He must enter into all my feelings; the -same books, the same music must charm us both. Oh! mama, how -spiritless, how tame was Edward's manner in reading to us last night! -I felt for my sister most severely. Yet she bore it with so much -composure, she seemed scarcely to notice it. I could hardly keep my -seat. To hear those beautiful lines which have frequently almost -driven me wild, pronounced with such impenetrable calmness, such -dreadful indifference!" - -"He would certainly have done more justice to simple and elegant -prose. I thought so at the time; but you _would_ give him Cowper." - -"Nay, Mamma, if he is not to be animated by Cowper!--but we must allow -for difference of taste. Elinor has not my feelings, and therefore she -may overlook it, and be happy with him. But it would have broke _my_ -heart, had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility. -Mama, the more I know of the world, the more am I convinced that I -shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much! He -must have all Edward's virtues, and his person and manners must -ornament his goodness with every possible charm." - -"Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen. It is yet too early in -life to despair of such a happiness. Why should you be less fortunate -than your mother? In one circumstance only, my Marianne, may your -destiny be different from her's!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -"What a pity it is, Elinor," said Marianne, "that Edward should have -no taste for drawing." - -"No taste for drawing!" replied Elinor, "why should you think so? He -does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the -performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means -deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of -improving it. Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he -would have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such -matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on -any picture; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste, -which in general direct him perfectly right." - -Marianne was afraid of offending, and said no more on the subject; but -the kind of approbation which Elinor described as excited in him by -the drawings of other people, was very far from that rapturous -delight, which, in her opinion, could alone be called taste. Yet, -though smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured her sister -for that blind partiality to Edward which produced it. - -"I hope, Marianne," continued Elinor, "you do not consider him as -deficient in general taste. Indeed, I think I may say that you cannot, -for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial, and if _that_ were -your opinion, I am sure you could never be civil to him." - -Marianne hardly knew what to say. She would not wound the feelings of -her sister on any account, and yet to say what she did not believe was -impossible. At length she replied: - -"Do not be offended, Elinor, if my praise of him is not in every thing -equal to your sense of his merits. I have not had so many -opportunities of estimating the minuter propensities of his mind, his -inclinations and tastes, as you have; but I have the highest opinion -in the world of his goodness and sense. I think him every thing that -is worthy and amiable." - -"I am sure," replied Elinor, with a smile, "that his dearest friends -could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that. I do not -perceive how you could express yourself more warmly." - -Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased. - -"Of his sense and his goodness," continued Elinor, "no one can, I -think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in -unreserved conversation. The excellence of his understanding and his -principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps -him silent. You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth. -But of his minuter propensities, as you call them you have from -peculiar circumstances been kept more ignorant than myself. He and I -have been at times thrown a good deal together, while you have been -wholly engrossed on the most affectionate principle by my mother. I -have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard -his opinion on subjects of literature and taste; and, upon the whole, -I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of -books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation just -and correct, and his taste delicate and pure. His abilities in every -respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person. -At first sight, his address is certainly not striking; and his person -can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which -are uncommonly good, and the general sweetness of his countenance, is -perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really -handsome; or at least, almost so. What say you, Marianne?" - -"I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor, if I do not now. When -you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection -in his face, than I now do in his heart." - -Elinor started at this declaration, and was sorry for the warmth she -had been betrayed into, in speaking of him. She felt that Edward stood -very high in her opinion. She believed the regard to be mutual; but -she required greater certainty of it to make Marianne's conviction of -their attachment agreeable to her. She knew that what Marianne and her -mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next--that with them, -to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect. She tried to explain -the real state of the case to her sister. - -"I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think very highly of -him--that I greatly esteem, that I like him." - -Marianne here burst forth with indignation-- - -"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than -cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I -will leave the room this moment." - -Elinor could not help laughing. "Excuse me," said she; "and be assured -that I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my -own feelings. Believe them to be stronger than I have declared; -believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the -suspicion--the hope--of his affection for me may warrant, without -imprudence or folly. But farther than this you must not believe. I am -by no means assured of his regard for me. There are moments when the -extent of it seems doubtful; and till his sentiments are fully known, -you cannot wonder at my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own -partiality, by believing or calling it more than it is. In my heart I -feel little--scarcely any doubt of his preference. But there are other -points to be considered besides his inclination. He is very far from -being independent. What his mother really is we cannot know; but, from -Fanny's occasional mention of her conduct and opinions, we have never -been disposed to think her amiable; and I am very much mistaken if -Edward is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in -his way, if he were to wish to marry a woman who had not either a -great fortune or high rank." - -Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother -and herself had outstripped the truth. - -"And you really are not engaged to him!" said she. "Yet it certainly -soon will happen. But two advantages will proceed from this delay. I -shall not lose you so soon, and Edward will have greater opportunity -of improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must -be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. Oh! if he -should be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to draw -himself, how delightful it would be!" - -Elinor had given her real opinion to her sister. She could not -consider her partiality for Edward in so prosperous a state as -Marianne had believed it. There was, at times, a want of spirits about -him which, if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something -almost as unpromising. A doubt of her regard, supposing him to feel -it, need not give him more than inquietude. It would not be likely to -produce that dejection of mind which frequently attended him. A more -reasonable cause might be found in the dependent situation which -forbade the indulgence of his affection. She knew that his mother -neither behaved to him so as to make his home comfortable at present, -nor to give him any assurance that he might form a home for himself, -without strictly attending to her views for his aggrandizement. With -such a knowledge as this, it was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on -the subject. She was far from depending on that result of his -preference of her, which her mother and sister still considered as -certain. Nay, the longer they were together the more doubtful seemed -the nature of his regard; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, -she believed it to be no more than friendship. - -But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, when -perceived by his sister, to make her uneasy, and at the same time, -(which was still more common,) to make her uncivil. She took the first -opportunity of affronting her mother-in-law on the occasion, talking -to her so expressively of her brother's great expectations, of Mrs. -Ferrars's resolution that both her sons should marry well, and of the -danger attending any young woman who attempted to _draw him in_, that -Mrs. Dashwood could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to -be calm. She gave her an answer which marked her contempt, and -instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might be the -inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, her beloved Elinor -should not be exposed another week to such insinuations. - -In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered to her from the -post, which contained a proposal particularly well timed. It was the -offer of a small house, on very easy terms, belonging to a relation of -her own, a gentleman of consequence and property in Devonshire. The -letter was from this gentleman himself, and written in the true spirit -of friendly accommodation. He understood that she was in need of a -dwelling; and though the house he now offered her was merely a -cottage, he assured her that everything should be done to it which she -might think necessary, if the situation pleased her. He earnestly -pressed her, after giving the particulars of the house and garden, to -come with her daughters to Barton Park, the place of his own -residence, from whence she might judge, herself, whether Barton -Cottage, for the houses were in the same parish, could, by any -alteration, be made comfortable to her. He seemed really anxious to -accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written in so -friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure to his cousin; -more especially at a moment when she was suffering under the cold and -unfeeling behaviour of her nearer connections. She needed no time for -deliberation or inquiry. Her resolution was formed as she read. The -situation of Barton, in a county so far distant from Sussex as -Devonshire, which, but a few hours before, would have been a -sufficient objection to outweigh every possible advantage belonging to -the place, was now its first recommendation. To quit the neighbourhood -of Norland was no longer an evil; it was an object of desire; it was a -blessing, in comparison of the misery of continuing her -daughter-in-law's guest; and to remove for ever from that beloved -place would be less painful than to inhabit or visit it while such a -woman was its mistress. She instantly wrote Sir John Middleton her -acknowledgment of his kindness, and her acceptance of his proposal; -and then hastened to show both letters to her daughters, that she -might be secure of their approbation before her answer were sent. - -Elinor had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle -at some distance from Norland, than immediately amongst their present -acquaintance. On _that_ head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose -her mother's intention of removing into Devonshire. The house, too, as -described by Sir John, was on so simple a scale, and the rent so -uncommonly moderate, as to leave her no right of objection on either -point; and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought any -charm to her fancy, though it was a removal from the vicinity of -Norland beyond her wishes, she made no attempt to dissuade her mother -from sending a letter of acquiescence. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -No sooner was her answer dispatched, than Mrs. Dashwood indulged -herself in the pleasure of announcing to her son-in-law and his wife -that she was provided with a house, and should incommode them no -longer than till every thing were ready for her inhabiting it. They -heard her with surprise. Mrs. John Dashwood said nothing; but her -husband civilly hoped that she would not be settled far from Norland. -She had great satisfaction in replying that she was going into -Devonshire. Edward turned hastily towards her, on hearing this, and, -in a voice of surprise and concern, which required no explanation to -her, repeated, "Devonshire! Are you, indeed, going there? So far from -hence! And to what part of it?" She explained the situation. It was -within four miles northward of Exeter. - -"It is but a cottage," she continued, "but I hope to see many of my -friends in it. A room or two can easily be added; and if my friends -find no difficulty in travelling so far to see me, I am sure I will -find none in accommodating them." - -She concluded with a very kind invitation to Mr. and Mrs. John -Dashwood to visit her at Barton; and to Edward she gave one with still -greater affection. Though her late conversation with her -daughter-in-law had made her resolve on remaining at Norland no longer -than was unavoidable, it had not produced the smallest effect on her -in that point to which it principally tended. To separate Edward and -Elinor was as far from being her object as ever; and she wished to -show Mrs. John Dashwood, by this pointed invitation to her brother, -how totally she disregarded her disapprobation of the match. - -Mr. John Dashwood told his mother again and again how exceedingly -sorry he was that she had taken a house at such a distance from -Norland as to prevent his being of any service to her in removing her -furniture. He really felt conscientiously vexed on the occasion; for -the very exertion to which he had limited the performance of his -promise to his father was by this arrangement rendered impracticable. -The furniture was all sent around by water. It chiefly consisted of -household linen, plate, china, and books, with a handsome pianoforte -of Marianne's. Mrs. John Dashwood saw the packages depart with a sigh: -she could not help feeling it hard that as Mrs. Dashwood's income -would be so trifling in comparison with their own, she should have any -handsome article of furniture. - -Mrs. Dashwood took the house for a twelvemonth; it was ready -furnished, and she might have immediate possession. No difficulty -arose on either side in the agreement; and she waited only for the -disposal of her effects at Norland, and to determine her future -household, before she set off for the west; and this, as she was -exceedingly rapid in the performance of everything that interested -her, was soon done. The horses which were left her by her husband had -been sold soon after his death, and an opportunity now offering of -disposing of her carriage, she agreed to sell that likewise at the -earnest advice of her eldest daughter. For the comfort of her -children, had she consulted only her own wishes, she would have kept -it; but the discretion of Elinor prevailed. _Her_ wisdom too limited -the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom -they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their -establishment at Norland. - -The man and one of the maids were sent off immediately into -Devonshire, to prepare the house for their mistress's arrival; for as -Lady Middleton was entirely unknown to Mrs. Dashwood, she preferred -going directly to the cottage to being a visitor at Barton Park; and -she relied so undoubtingly on Sir John's description of the house, as -to feel no curiosity to examine it herself till she entered it as her -own. Her eagerness to be gone from Norland was preserved from -diminution by the evident satisfaction of her daughter-in-law in the -prospect of her removal; a satisfaction which was but feebly attempted -to be concealed under a cold invitation to her to defer her departure. -Now was the time when her son-in-law's promise to his father might -with particular propriety be fulfilled. Since he had neglected to do -it on first coming to the estate, their quitting his house might be -looked on as the most suitable period for its accomplishment. But Mrs. -Dashwood began shortly to give over every hope of the kind, and to be -convinced, from the general drift of his discourse, that his -assistance extended no farther than their maintenance for six months -at Norland. He so frequently talked of the increasing expenses of -housekeeping, and of the perpetual demands upon his purse, which a man -of any consequence in the world was beyond calculation exposed to, -that he seemed rather to stand in need of more money himself than to -have any design of giving money away. - -In a very few weeks from the day which brought Sir John Middleton's -first letter to Norland, every thing was so far settled in their -future abode as to enable Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters to begin -their journey. - -Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so -much beloved. "Dear, dear Norland!" said Marianne, as she wandered -alone before the house, on the last evening of their being there; -"when shall I cease to regret you!--when learn to feel a home -elsewhere! Oh! happy house, could you know what I suffer in now -viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no -more! And you, ye well-known trees!--but you will continue the same. -No leaf will decay because we are removed, nor any branch become -motionless although we can observe you no longer! No; you will -continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you -occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your -shade! But who will remain to enjoy you?" - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -The first part of their journey was performed in too melancholy a -disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant. But as they -drew towards the end of it, their interest in the appearance of a -country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection, and a -view of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. It -was a pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich in pasture. After -winding along it for more than a mile, they reached their own house. A -small green court was the whole of its demesne in front; and a neat -wicket gate admitted them into it. - -As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact; -but as a cottage it was defective, for the building was regular, the -roof was tiled, the window shutters were not painted green, nor were -the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly -through the house into the garden behind. On each side of the entrance -was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square; and beyond them were -the offices and the stairs. Four bedrooms and two garrets formed the -rest of the house. It had not been built many years and was in good -repair. In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeed!--but -the tears which recollection called forth as they entered the house -were soon dried away. They were cheered by the joy of the servants on -their arrival, and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear -happy. It was very early in September; the season was fine, and from -first seeing the place under the advantage of good weather, they -received an impression in its favour which was of material service in -recommending it to their lasting approbation. - -The situation of the house was good. High hills rose immediately -behind, and at no great distance on each side; some of which were open -downs, the others cultivated and woody. The village of Barton was -chiefly on one of these hills, and formed a pleasant view from the -cottage windows. The prospect in front was more extensive; it -commanded the whole of the valley, and reached into the country -beyond. The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated the valley -in that direction; under another name, and in another course, it -branched out again between two of the steepest of them. - -With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. Dashwood was upon the -whole well satisfied; for though her former style of life rendered -many additions to the latter indispensable, yet to add and improve was -a delight to her; and she had at this time ready money enough to -supply all that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments. "As -for the house itself, to be sure," said she, "it is too small for our -family, but we will make ourselves tolerably comfortable for the -present, as it is too late in the year for improvements. Perhaps in -the spring, if I have plenty of money, as I dare say I shall, we may -think about building. These parlors are both too small for such -parties of our friends as I hope to see often collected here; and I -have some thoughts of throwing the passage into one of them with -perhaps a part of the other, and so leave the remainder of that other -for an entrance; this, with a new drawing room which may be easily -added, and a bed-chamber and garret above, will make it a very snug -little cottage. I could wish the stairs were handsome. But one must -not expect every thing; though I suppose it would be no difficult -matter to widen them. I shall see how much I am before-hand with the -world in the spring, and we will plan our improvements accordingly." - -In the mean time, till all these alterations could be made from the -savings of an income of five hundred a-year by a woman who never -saved in her life, they were wise enough to be contented with the -house as it was; and each of them was busy in arranging their -particular concerns, and endeavoring, by placing around them books and -other possessions, to form themselves a home. Marianne's pianoforte -was unpacked and properly disposed of; and Elinor's drawings were -affixed to the walls of their sitting room. - -In such employments as these they were interrupted soon after -breakfast the next day by the entrance of their landlord, who called -to welcome them to Barton, and to offer them every accommodation from -his own house and garden in which theirs might at present be -deficient. Sir John Middleton was a good looking man about forty. He -had formerly visited at Stanhill, but it was too long for his young -cousins to remember him. His countenance was thoroughly good-humoured; -and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter. Their -arrival seemed to afford him real satisfaction, and their comfort to -be an object of real solicitude to him. He said much of his earnest -desire of their living in the most sociable terms with his family, and -pressed them so cordially to dine at Barton Park every day till they -were better settled at home, that, though his entreaties were carried -to a point of perseverance beyond civility, they could not give -offence. His kindness was not confined to words; for within an hour -after he left them, a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit -arrived from the park, which was followed before the end of the day by -a present of game. He insisted, moreover, on conveying all their -letters to and from the post for them, and would not be denied the -satisfaction of sending them his newspaper every day. - -Lady Middleton had sent a very civil message by him, denoting her -intention of waiting on Mrs. Dashwood as soon as she could be assured -that her visit would be no inconvenience; and as this message was -answered by an invitation equally polite, her ladyship was introduced -to them the next day. - -[Illustration: _So shy before company._] - -They were, of course, very anxious to see a person on whom so much of -their comfort at Barton must depend; and the elegance of her -appearance was favourable to their wishes. Lady Middleton was not more -than six or seven and twenty; her face was handsome, her figure tall -and striking, and her address graceful. Her manners had all the -elegance which her husband's wanted. But they would have been improved -by some share of his frankness and warmth; and her visit was long -enough to detract something from their first admiration, by showing -that, though perfectly well-bred, she was reserved, cold, and had -nothing to say for herself beyond the most common-place inquiry or -remark. - -Conversation however was not wanted, for Sir John was very chatty, and -Lady Middleton had taken the wise precaution of bringing with her -their eldest child, a fine little boy about six years old, by which -means there was one subject always to be recurred to by the ladies in -case of extremity, for they had to enquire his name and age, admire -his beauty, and ask him questions which his mother answered for him, -while he hung about her and held down his head, to the great surprise -of her ladyship, who wondered at his being so shy before company, as -he could make noise enough at home. On every formal visit a child -ought to be of the party, by way of provision for discourse. In the -present case it took up ten minutes to determine whether the boy were -most like his father or mother, and in what particular he resembled -either, for of course every body differed, and every body was -astonished at the opinion of the others. - -An opportunity was soon to be given to the Dashwoods of debating on -the rest of the children, as Sir John would not leave the house -without securing their promise of dining at the park the next day. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. The ladies had -passed near it in their way along the valley, but it was screened from -their view at home by the projection of a hill. The house was large -and handsome; and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality -and elegance. The former was for Sir John's gratification, the latter -for that of his lady. They were scarcely ever without some friends -staying with them in the house, and they kept more company of every -kind than any other family in the neighbourhood. It was necessary to -the happiness of both; for however dissimilar in temper and outward -behaviour, they strongly resembled each other in that total want of -talent and taste which confined their employments, unconnected with -such as society produced, within a very narrow compass. Sir John was a -sportsman, Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she -humoured her children; and these were their only resources. Lady -Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all -the year round, while Sir John's independent employments were in -existence only half the time. Continual engagements at home and -abroad, however, supplied all the deficiencies of nature and -education; supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise -to the good breeding of his wife. - -Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance of her table, and of -all her domestic arrangements; and from this kind of vanity was her -greatest enjoyment in any of their parties. But Sir John's -satisfaction in society was much more real; he delighted in collecting -about him more young people than his house would hold, and the noisier -they were the better was he pleased. He was a blessing to all the -juvenile part of the neighbourhood, for in summer he was for ever -forming parties to eat cold ham and chicken out of doors, and in -winter his private balls were numerous enough for any young lady who -was not suffering under the insatiable appetite of fifteen. - -The arrival of a new family in the country was always a matter of joy -to him, and in every point of view he was charmed with the inhabitants -he had now procured for his cottage at Barton. The Miss Dashwoods were -young, pretty, and unaffected. It was enough to secure his good -opinion; for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could want to -make her mind as captivating as her person. The friendliness of his -disposition made him happy in accommodating those, whose situation -might be considered, in comparison with the past, as unfortunate. In -showing kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction -of a good heart; and in settling a family of females only in his -cottage, he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman; for a sportsman, -though he esteems only those of his sex who are sportsmen likewise, is -not often desirous of encouraging their taste by admitting them to a -residence within his own manor. - -Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door of the house by -Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton Park with unaffected sincerity; -and as he attended them to the drawing room repeated to the young -ladies the concern which the same subject had drawn from him the day -before, at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them. They -would see, he said, only one gentleman there besides himself; a -particular friend who was staying at the park, but who was neither -very young nor very gay. He hoped they would all excuse the smallness -of the party, and could assure them it should never happen so again. -He had been to several families that morning in hopes of procuring -some addition to their number, but it was moonlight and every body was -full of engagements. Luckily Lady Middleton's mother had arrived at -Barton within the last hour, and as she was a very cheerful agreeable -woman, he hoped the young ladies would not find it so very dull as -they might imagine. The young ladies, as well as their mother, were -perfectly satisfied with having two entire strangers of the party, and -wished for no more. - -Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's mother, was a good-humoured, merry, -fat, elderly woman, who talked a great deal, seemed very happy, and -rather vulgar. She was full of jokes and laughter, and before dinner -was over had said many witty things on the subject of lovers and -husbands; hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex, -and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not. Marianne was -vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned her eyes towards Elinor -to see how she bore these attacks, with an earnestness which gave -Elinor far more pain than could arise from such common-place raillery -as Mrs. Jennings's. - -Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no more adapted by -resemblance of manner to be his friend, than Lady Middleton was to be -his wife, or Mrs. Jennings to be Lady Middleton's mother. He was -silent and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite -of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old -bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty; but though -his face was not handsome, his countenance was sensible, and his -address was particularly gentlemanlike. - -There was nothing in any of the party which could recommend them as -companions to the Dashwoods; but the cold insipidity of Lady Middleton -was so particularly repulsive, that in comparison of it the gravity -of Colonel Brandon, and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his -mother-in-law was interesting. Lady Middleton seemed to be roused to -enjoyment only by the entrance of her four noisy children after -dinner, who pulled her about, tore her clothes, and put an end to -every kind of discourse except what related to themselves. - -In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, she was -invited to play. The instrument was unlocked, every body prepared to -be charmed, and Marianne, who sang very well, at their request went -through the chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into -the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had lain ever since in -the same position on the pianoforte, for her ladyship had celebrated -that event by giving up music, although by her mother's account, she -had played extremely well, and by her own was very fond of it. - -Marianne's performance was highly applauded. Sir John was loud in his -admiration at the end of every song, and as loud in his conversation -with the others while every song lasted. Lady Middleton frequently -called him to order, wondered how any one's attention could be -diverted from music for a moment, and asked Marianne to sing a -particular song which Marianne had just finished. Colonel Brandon -alone, of all the party, heard her without being in raptures. He paid -her only the compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him -on the occasion, which the others had reasonably forfeited by their -shameless want of taste. His pleasure in music, though it amounted not -to that ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, -was estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of -the others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five -and thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and every -exquisite power of enjoyment. She was perfectly disposed to make every -allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life which humanity -required. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Mrs. Jennings was a widow with an ample jointure. She had only two -daughters, both of whom she had lived to see respectably married, and -she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the -world. In the promotion of this object she was zealously active, as -far as her ability reached; and missed no opportunity of projecting -weddings among all the young people of her acquaintance. She was -remarkably quick in the discovery of attachments, and had enjoyed the -advantage of raising the blushes and the vanity of many a young lady -by insinuations of her power over such a young man; and this kind of -discernment enabled her soon after her arrival at Barton decisively to -pronounce that Colonel Brandon was very much in love with Marianne -Dashwood. She rather suspected it to be so, on the very first evening -of their being together, from his listening so attentively while she -sang to them; and when the visit was returned by the Middletons' -dining at the cottage, the fact was ascertained by his listening to -her again. It must be so. She was perfectly convinced of it. It would -be an excellent match, for _he_ was rich, and _she_ was handsome. Mrs. -Jennings had been anxious to see Colonel Brandon well married, ever -since her connection with Sir John first brought him to her knowledge; -and she was always anxious to get a good husband for every pretty -girl. - -The immediate advantage to herself was by no means inconsiderable, for -it supplied her with endless jokes against them both. At the park she -laughed at the colonel, and in the cottage at Marianne. To the former -her raillery was probably, as far as it regarded only himself, -perfectly indifferent; but to the latter it was at first -incomprehensible; and when its object was understood, she hardly knew -whether most to laugh at its absurdity, or censure its impertinence, -for she considered it as an unfeeling reflection on the colonel's -advanced years, and on his forlorn condition as an old bachelor. - -Mrs. Dashwood, who could not think a man five years younger than -herself, so exceedingly ancient as he appeared to the youthful fancy -of her daughter, ventured to clear Mrs. Jennings from the probability -of wishing to throw ridicule on his age. - -"But at least, Mamma, you cannot deny the absurdity of the accusation, -though you may not think it intentionally ill-natured. Colonel Brandon -is certainly younger than Mrs. Jennings, but he is old enough to be -_my_ father; and if he were ever animated enough to be in love, must -have long outlived every sensation of the kind. It is too ridiculous! -When is a man to be safe from such wit, if age and infirmity will not -protect him?" - -"Infirmity!" said Elinor, "do you call Colonel Brandon infirm? I can -easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my -mother; but you can hardly deceive yourself as to his having the use -of his limbs!" - -"Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism? and is not that the -commonest infirmity of declining life?" - -"My dearest child," said her mother, laughing, "at this rate you must -be in continual terror of _my_ decay; and it must seem to you a -miracle that my life has been extended to the advanced age of forty." - -"Mamma, you are not doing me justice. I know very well that Colonel -Brandon is not old enough to make his friends yet apprehensive of -losing him in the course of nature. He may live twenty years longer. -But thirty-five has nothing to do with matrimony." - -"Perhaps," said Elinor, "thirty-five and seventeen had better not have -any thing to do with matrimony together. But if there should by any -chance happen to be a woman who is single at seven and twenty, I -should not think Colonel Brandon's being thirty-five any objection to -his marrying _her_ ." - -"A woman of seven and twenty," said Marianne, after pausing a moment, -"can never hope to feel or inspire affection again, and if her home be -uncomfortable, or her fortune small, I can suppose that she might -bring herself to submit to the offices of a nurse, for the sake of the -provision and security of a wife. In his marrying such a woman -therefore there would be nothing unsuitable. It would be a compact of -convenience, and the world would be satisfied. In my eyes it would be -no marriage at all, but that would be nothing. To me it would seem -only a commercial exchange, in which each wished to be benefited at -the expense of the other." - -"It would be impossible, I know," replied Elinor, "to convince you -that a woman of seven and twenty could feel for a man of thirty-five -anything near enough to love, to make him a desirable companion to -her. But I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and his wife to -the constant confinement of a sick chamber, merely because he chanced -to complain yesterday (a very cold damp day) of a slight rheumatic -feel in one of his shoulders." - -"But he talked of flannel waistcoats," said Marianne; "and with me a -flannel waistcoat is invariably connected with aches, cramps, -rheumatisms, and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and -the feeble." - -"Had he been only in a violent fever, you would not have despised him -half so much. Confess, Marianne, is not there something interesting to -you in the flushed cheek, hollow eye, and quick pulse of a fever?" - -Soon after this, upon Elinor's leaving the room, "Mamma," said -Marianne, "I have an alarm on the subject of illness which I cannot -conceal from you. I am sure Edward Ferrars is not well. We have now -been here almost a fortnight, and yet he does not come. Nothing but -real indisposition could occasion this extraordinary delay. What else -can detain him at Norland?" - -"Had you any idea of his coming so soon?" said Mrs. Dashwood. "I had -none. On the contrary, if I have felt any anxiety at all on the -subject, it has been in recollecting that he sometimes showed a want -of pleasure and readiness in accepting my invitation, when I talked of -his coming to Barton. Does Elinor expect him already?" - -"I have never mentioned it to her, but of course she must." - -"I rather think you are mistaken, for when I was talking to her -yesterday of getting a new grate for the spare bed-chamber, she -observed that there was no immediate hurry for it, as it was not -likely that the room would be wanted for some time." - -"How strange this is! what can be the meaning of it! But the whole of -their behaviour to each other has been unaccountable! How cold, how -composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the -last evening of their being together! In Edward's farewell there was -no distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an -affectionate brother to both. Twice did I leave them purposely -together in the course of the last morning, and each time did he most -unaccountably follow me out of the room. And Elinor, in quitting -Norland and Edward, cried not as I did. Even now her self-command is -invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to -avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?" - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to -themselves. The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding -them, were now become familiar, and the ordinary pursuits which had -given to Norland half its charms were engaged in again with far -greater enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford, since the loss -of their father. Sir John Middleton, who called on them every day for -the first fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much -occupation at home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them -always employed. - -Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many; for, in -spite of Sir John's urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the -neighbourhood, and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at -their service, the independence of Mrs. Dashwood's spirit overcame the -wish of society for her children; and she was resolute in declining to -visit any family beyond the distance of a walk. There were but few who -could be so classed; and it was not all of them that were attainable. -About a mile and a half from the cottage, along the narrow winding -valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton, as formerly -described, the girls had, in one of their earliest walks, discovered -an ancient respectable looking mansion which, by reminding them a -little of Norland, interested their imagination and made them wish to -be better acquainted with it. But they learnt, on enquiry, that its -possessor, an elderly lady of very good character, was unfortunately -too infirm to mix with the world, and never stirred from home. - -The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks. The high -downs which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to -seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on their summits, were a happy -alternative when the dirt of the valleys beneath shut up their -superior beauties; and towards one of these hills did Marianne and -Margaret one memorable morning direct their steps, attracted by the -partial sunshine of a showery sky, and unable longer to bear the -confinement which the settled rain of the two preceding days had -occasioned. The weather was not tempting enough to draw the two others -from their pencil and their book, in spite of Marianne's declaration -that the day would be lastingly fair, and that every threatening cloud -would be drawn off from their hills; and the two girls set off -together. - -They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own penetration at -every glimpse of blue sky; and when they caught in their faces the -animating gales of a high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears -which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such -delightful sensations. - -"Is there a felicity in the world," said Marianne, "superior to -this?--Margaret, we will walk here at least two hours." - -Margaret agreed, and they pursued their way against the wind, -resisting it with laughing delight for about twenty minutes longer, -when suddenly the clouds united over their heads, and a driving rain -set full in their face. Chagrined and surprised, they were obliged, -though unwillingly, to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their -own house. One consolation however remained for them, to which the -exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety,--it was that of -running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which -led immediately to their garden gate. - -They set off. Marianne had at first the advantage, but a false step -brought her suddenly to the ground; and Margaret, unable to stop -herself to assist her, was involuntarily hurried along, and reached -the bottom in safety. - -A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was -passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne, when her -accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. She -had raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been twisted in -her fall, and she was scarcely able to stand. The gentleman offered -his services; and perceiving that her modesty declined what her -situation rendered necessary, took her up in his arms without farther -delay, and carried her down the hill. Then passing through the garden, -the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he bore her directly -into the house, whither Margaret was just arrived, and quitted not his -hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour. - -Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at their entrance, and -while the eyes of both were fixed on him with an evident wonder and a -secret admiration which equally sprung from his appearance, he -apologized for his intrusion by relating its cause, in a manner so -frank and so graceful that his person, which was uncommonly handsome, -received additional charms from his voice and expression. Had he been -even old, ugly, and vulgar, the gratitude and kindness of Mrs. -Dashwood would have been secured by any act of attention to her child; -but the influence of youth, beauty, and elegance, gave an interest to -the action which came home to her feelings. - -She thanked him again and again; and, with a sweetness of address -which always attended her, invited him to be seated. But this he -declined, as he was dirty and wet. Mrs. Dashwood then begged to know -to whom she was obliged. His name, he replied, was Willoughby, and his -present home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would allow him -the honour of calling tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood. The -honour was readily granted, and he then departed, to make himself -still more interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain. - -His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness were instantly the -theme of general admiration, and the laugh which his gallantry raised -against Marianne received particular spirit from his exterior -attractions. Marianne herself had seen less of his person than the -rest, for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his lifting -her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their -entering the house. But she had seen enough of him to join in all the -admiration of the others, and with an energy which always adorned her -praise. His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn -for the hero of a favourite story; and in his carrying her into the -house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of -thought which particularly recommended the action to her. Every -circumstance belonging to him was interesting. His name was good, his -residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that -of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming. Her -imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, and the pain of a -sprained ankle was disregarded. - -Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval of fair weather -that morning allowed him to get out of doors; and Marianne's accident -being related to him, he was eagerly asked whether he knew any -gentleman of the name of Willoughby at Allenham. - -"Willoughby!" cried Sir John; "what, is _he_ in the country? That is -good news however; I will ride over tomorrow, and ask him to dinner on -Thursday." - -"You know him then," said Mrs. Dashwood. - -"Know him! to be sure I do. Why, he is down here every year." - -"And what sort of a young man is he?" - -"As good a kind of fellow as ever lived, I assure you. A very decent -shot, and there is not a bolder rider in England." - -"And is that all you can say for him?" cried Marianne, indignantly. -"But what are his manners on more intimate acquaintance? What his -pursuits, his talents, and genius?" - -Sir John was rather puzzled. - -"Upon my soul," said he, "I do not know much about him as to all -_that._ But he is a pleasant, good humoured fellow, and has got the -nicest little black bitch of a pointer I ever saw. Was she out with -him today?" - -But Marianne could no more satisfy him as to the colour of Mr. -Willoughby's pointer, than he could describe to her the shades of his -mind. - -"But who is he?" said Elinor. "Where does he come from? Has he a house -at Allenham?" - -On this point Sir John could give more certain intelligence; and he -told them that Mr. Willoughby had no property of his own in the -country; that he resided there only while he was visiting the old lady -at Allenham Court, to whom he was related, and whose possessions he -was to inherit; adding, "Yes, yes, he is very well worth catching I -can tell you, Miss Dashwood; he has a pretty little estate of his own -in Somersetshire besides; and if I were you, I would not give him up -to my younger sister, in spite of all this tumbling down hills. Miss -Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself. Brandon will -be jealous, if she does not take care." - -"I do not believe," said Mrs. Dashwood, with a good humoured smile, -"that Mr. Willoughby will be incommoded by the attempts of either of -_my_ daughters towards what you call _catching him._ It is not an -employment to which they have been brought up. Men are very safe with -us, let them be ever so rich. I am glad to find, however, from what -you say, that he is a respectable young man, and one whose -acquaintance will not be ineligible." - -"He is as good a sort of fellow, I believe, as ever lived," repeated -Sir John. "I remember last Christmas at a little hop at the park, he -danced from eight o'clock till four, without once sitting down." - -"Did he indeed?" cried Marianne with sparkling eyes, "and with -elegance, with spirit?" - -"Yes; and he was up again at eight to ride to covert." - -"That is what I like; that is what a young man ought to be. Whatever -be his pursuits, his eagerness in them should know no moderation, and -leave him no sense of fatigue." - -"Aye, aye, I see how it will be," said Sir John, "I see how it will -be. You will be setting your cap at him now, and never think of poor -Brandon." - -"That is an expression, Sir John," said Marianne, warmly, "which I -particularly dislike. I abhor every common-place phrase by which wit -is intended; and 'setting one's cap at a man,' or 'making a conquest,' -are the most odious of all. Their tendency is gross and illiberal; and -if their construction could ever be deemed clever, time has long ago -destroyed all its ingenuity." - -Sir John did not much understand this reproof; but he laughed as -heartily as if he did, and then replied-- - -"Ay, you will make conquests enough, I dare say, one way or other. -Poor Brandon! he is quite smitten already, and he is very well worth -setting your cap at, I can tell you, in spite of all this tumbling -about and spraining of ankles." - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -Marianne's preserver, as Margaret, with more elegance than precision, -styled Willoughby, called at the cottage early the next morning to -make his personal enquiries. He was received by Mrs. Dashwood with -more than politeness; with a kindness which Sir John's account of him -and her own gratitude prompted; and every thing that passed during the -visit tended to assure him of the sense, elegance, mutual affection, -and domestic comfort of the family to whom accident had now introduced -him. Of their personal charms he had not required a second interview -to be convinced. - -Miss Dashwood had a delicate complexion, regular features, and a -remarkably pretty figure. Marianne was still handsomer. Her form, -though not so correct as her sister's, in having the advantage of -height, was more striking; and her face was so lovely, that when in -the common cant of praise, she was called a beautiful girl, truth was -less violently outraged than usually happens. Her skin was very brown, -but, from its transparency, her complexion was uncommonly brilliant; -her features were all good; her smile was sweet and attractive; and in -her eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, a spirit, an -eagerness, which could hardily be seen without delight. From -Willoughby their expression was at first held back, by the -embarrassment which the remembrance of his assistance created. But -when this passed away, when her spirits became collected, when she saw -that to the perfect good-breeding of the gentleman, he united -frankness and vivacity, and above all, when she heard him declare, -that of music and dancing he was passionately fond, she gave him such -a look of approbation as secured the largest share of his discourse to -herself for the rest of his stay. - -It was only necessary to mention any favourite amusement to engage her -to talk. She could not be silent when such points were introduced, and -she had neither shyness nor reserve in their discussion. They speedily -discovered that their enjoyment of dancing and music was mutual, and -that it arose from a general conformity of judgment in all that -related to either. Encouraged by this to a further examination of his -opinions, she proceeded to question him on the subject of books; her -favourite authors were brought forward and dwelt upon with so -rapturous a delight, that any young man of five and twenty must have -been insensible indeed, not to become an immediate convert to the -excellence of such works, however disregarded before. Their taste was -strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by -each; or if any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no -longer than till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her -eyes could be displayed. He acquiesced in all her decisions, caught -all her enthusiasm; and long before his visit concluded, they -conversed with the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance. - -"Well, Marianne," said Elinor, as soon as he had left them, "for _one_ -morning I think you have done pretty well. You have already -ascertained Mr. Willoughby's opinion in almost every matter of -importance. You know what he thinks of Cowper and Scott; you are -certain of his estimating their beauties as he ought, and you have -received every assurance of his admiring Pope no more than is proper. -But how is your acquaintance to be long supported, under such -extraordinary despatch of every subject for discourse? You will soon -have exhausted each favourite topic. Another meeting will suffice to -explain his sentiments on picturesque beauty, and second marriages, -and then you can have nothing farther to ask." - -"Elinor," cried Marianne, "is this fair? is this just? are my ideas so -scanty? But I see what you mean. I have been too much at my ease, too -happy, too frank. I have erred against every common-place notion of -decorum; I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been -reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful:--had I talked only of the -weather and the roads, and had I spoken only once in ten minutes, this -reproach would have been spared." - -"My love," said her mother, "you must not be offended with Elinor--she -was only in jest. I should scold her myself, if she were capable of -wishing to check the delight of your conversation with our new -friend." Marianne was softened in a moment. - -Willoughby, on his side, gave every proof of his pleasure in their -acquaintance, which an evident wish of improving it could offer. He -came to them every day. To enquire after Marianne was at first his -excuse; but the encouragement of his reception, to which every day -gave greater kindness, made such an excuse unnecessary before it had -ceased to be possible, by Marianne's perfect recovery. She was -confined for some days to the house; but never had any confinement -been less irksome. Willoughby was a young man of good abilities, quick -imagination, lively spirits, and open, affectionate manners. He was -exactly formed to engage Marianne's heart, for with all this, he -joined not only a captivating person, but a natural ardour of mind -which was now roused and increased by the example of her own, and -which recommended him to her affection beyond every thing else. - -His society became gradually her most exquisite enjoyment. They read, -they talked, they sang together; his musical talents were -considerable; and he read with all the sensibility and spirit which -Edward had unfortunately wanted. - -In Mrs. Dashwood's estimation he was as faultless as in Marianne's; -and Elinor saw nothing to censure in him but a propensity, in which he -strongly resembled and peculiarly delighted her sister, of saying too -much what he thought on every occasion, without attention to persons -or circumstances. In hastily forming and giving his opinion of other -people, in sacrificing general politeness to the enjoyment of -undivided attention where his heart was engaged, and in slighting too -easily the forms of worldly propriety, he displayed a want of caution -which Elinor could not approve, in spite of all that he and Marianne -could say in its support. - -Marianne began now to perceive that the desperation which had seized -her at sixteen and a half, of ever seeing a man who could satisfy her -ideas of perfection, had been rash and unjustifiable. Willoughby was -all that her fancy had delineated in that unhappy hour and in every -brighter period, as capable of attaching her; and his behaviour -declared his wishes to be in that respect as earnest, as his abilities -were strong. - -[Illustration: _They sang together._] - -Her mother too, in whose mind not one speculative thought of their -marriage had been raised, by his prospect of riches, was led before -the end of a week to hope and expect it; and secretly to congratulate -herself on having gained two such sons-in-law as Edward and -Willoughby. - -Colonel Brandon's partiality for Marianne, which had so -early been discovered by his friends, now first became perceptible to -Elinor, when it ceased to be noticed by them. Their attention and wit -were drawn off to his more fortunate rival; and the raillery which the -other had incurred before any partiality arose, was removed when his -feelings began really to call for the ridicule so justly annexed to -sensibility. Elinor was obliged, though unwillingly, to believe that -the sentiments which Mrs. Jennings had assigned him for her own -satisfaction, were now actually excited by her sister; and that -however a general resemblance of disposition between the parties might -forward the affection of Mr. Willoughby, an equally striking -opposition of character was no hindrance to the regard of Colonel -Brandon. She saw it with concern; for what could a silent man of five -and thirty hope, when opposed to a very lively one of five and twenty? -and as she could not even wish him successful, she heartily wished him -indifferent. She liked him--in spite of his gravity and reserve, she -beheld in him an object of interest. His manners, though serious, were -mild; and his reserve appeared rather the result of some oppression of -spirits than of any natural gloominess of temper. Sir John had dropped -hints of past injuries and disappointments, which justified her belief -of his being an unfortunate man, and she regarded him with respect and -compassion. - -Perhaps she pitied and esteemed him the more because he was slighted -by Willoughby and Marianne, who, prejudiced against him for being -neither lively nor young, seemed resolved to undervalue his merits. - -"Brandon is just the kind of man," said Willoughby one day, when they -were talking of him together, "whom every body speaks well of, and -nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody -remembers to talk to." - -"That is exactly what I think of him," cried Marianne. - -"Do not boast of it, however," said Elinor, "for it is injustice in -both of you. He is highly esteemed by all the family at the park, and -I never see him myself without taking pains to converse with him." - -"That he is patronised by _you_," replied Willoughby, "is certainly in -his favour; but as for the esteem of the others, it is a reproach in -itself. Who would submit to the indignity of being approved by such a -woman as Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, that could command the -indifference of any body else?" - -"But perhaps the abuse of such people as yourself and Marianne will -make amends for the regard of Lady Middleton and her mother. If their -praise is censure, your censure may be praise, for they are not more -undiscerning, than you are prejudiced and unjust." - -"In defence of your _protégé_ you can even be saucy." - -"My _protégé_, as you call him, is a sensible man; and sense will -always have attractions for me. Yes, Marianne, even in a man between -thirty and forty. He has seen a great deal of the world; has been -abroad, has read, and has a thinking mind. I have found him capable of -giving me much information on various subjects; and he has always -answered my inquiries with readiness of good-breeding and good -nature." - -"That is to say," cried Marianne contemptuously, "he has told you, -that in the East Indies the climate is hot, and the mosquitoes are -troublesome." - -"He _would_ have told me so, I doubt not, had I made any such -inquiries, but they happened to be points on which I had been -previously informed." - -"Perhaps," said Willoughby, "his observations may have extended to the -existence of nabobs, gold mohrs, and palanquins." - -"I may venture to say that _his_ observations have stretched much -further than _your_ candour. But why should you dislike him?" - -"I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very -respectable man, who has every body's good word, and nobody's notice; -who, has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to -employ, and two new coats every year." - -"Add to which," cried Marianne, "that he has neither genius, taste, -nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no -ardour, and his voice no expression." - -"You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass," replied Elinor, -"and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the -commendation I am able to give of him is comparatively cold and -insipid. I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred, -well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an -amiable heart." - -"Miss Dashwood," cried Willoughby, "you are now using me unkindly. You -are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, and to convince me against my -will. But it will not do. You shall find me as stubborn as you can be -artful. I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel -Brandon; he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he -has found fault with the hanging of my curricle, and I cannot persuade -him to buy my brown mare. If it will be any satisfaction to you, -however, to be told, that I believe his character to be in other -respects irreproachable, I am ready to confess it. And in return for -an acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, you cannot deny me -the privilege of disliking him as much as ever." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -Little had Mrs. Dashwood or her daughters imagined when they first -came into Devonshire, that so many engagements would arise to occupy -their time as shortly presented themselves, or that they should have -such frequent invitations and such constant visitors as to leave them -little leisure for serious employment. Yet such was the case. When -Marianne was recovered, the schemes of amusement at home and abroad, -which Sir John had been previously forming, were put into execution. -The private balls at the park then began; and parties on the water -were made and accomplished as often as a showery October would allow. -In every meeting of the kind Willoughby was included; and the ease and -familiarity which naturally attended these parties were exactly -calculated to give increasing intimacy to his acquaintance with the -Dashwoods, to afford him opportunity of witnessing the excellencies of -Marianne, of marking his animated admiration of her, and of receiving, -in her behaviour to himself, the most pointed assurance of her -affection. - -Elinor could not be surprised at their attachment. She only wished -that it were less openly shown; and once or twice did venture to -suggest the propriety of some self-command to Marianne. But Marianne -abhorred all concealment where no real disgrace could attend -unreserve; and to aim at the restraint of sentiments which were not in -themselves illaudable, appeared to her not merely an unnecessary -effort, but a disgraceful subjection of reason to common-place and -mistaken notions. Willoughby thought the same; and their behaviour at -all times, was an illustration of their opinions. - -When he was present she had no eyes for any one else. Every thing he -did, was right. Every thing he said, was clever. If their evenings at -the park were concluded with cards, he cheated himself and all the -rest of the party to get her a good hand. If dancing formed the -amusement of the night, they were partners for half the time; and when -obliged to separate for a couple of dances, were careful to stand -together and scarcely spoke a word to any body else. Such conduct made -them of course most exceedingly laughed at; but ridicule could not -shame, and seemed hardly to provoke them. - -Mrs. Dashwood entered into all their feelings with a warmth which left -her no inclination for checking this excessive display of them. To her -it was but the natural consequence of a strong affection in a young -and ardent mind. - -This was the season of happiness to Marianne. Her heart was devoted to -Willoughby, and the fond attachment to Norland, which she brought with -her from Sussex, was more likely to be softened than she had thought -it possible before, by the charms which his society bestowed on her -present home. - -Elinor's happiness was not so great. Her heart was not so much at -ease, nor her satisfaction in their amusements so pure. They afforded -her no companion that could make amends for what she had left behind, -nor that could teach her to think of Norland with less regret than -ever. Neither Lady Middleton nor Mrs. Jennings could supply to her the -conversation she missed; although the latter was an everlasting -talker, and from the first had regarded her with a kindness which -ensured her a large share of her discourse. She had already repeated -her own history to Elinor three or four times; and had Elinor's memory -been equal to her means of improvement, she might have known very -early in their acquaintance all the particulars of Mr. Jennings's last -illness, and what he said to his wife a few minutes before he died. -Lady Middleton was more agreeable than her mother only in being more -silent. Elinor needed little observation to perceive that her reserve -was a mere calmness of manner with which sense had nothing to do. -Towards her husband and mother she was the same as to them; and -intimacy was therefore neither to be looked for nor desired. She had -nothing to say one day that she had not said the day before. Her -insipidity was invariable, for even her spirits were always the same; -and though she did not oppose the parties arranged by her husband, -provided every thing were conducted in style and her two eldest -children attended her, she never appeared to receive more enjoyment -from them than she might have experienced in sitting at home; and so -little did her presence add to the pleasure of the others, by any -share in their conversation, that they were sometimes only reminded of -her being amongst them by her solicitude about her troublesome boys. - -In Colonel Brandon alone, of all her new acquaintance, did Elinor find -a person who could in any degree claim the respect of abilities, -excite the interest of friendship, or give pleasure as a companion. -Willoughby was out of the question. Her admiration and regard, even -her sisterly regard, was all his own; but he was a lover; his -attentions were wholly Marianne's, and a far less agreeable man might -have been more generally pleasing. Colonel Brandon, unfortunately for -himself, had no such encouragement to think only of Marianne, and in -conversing with Elinor he found the greatest consolation for the -indifference of her sister. - -Elinor's compassion for him increased, as she had reason to suspect -that the misery of disappointed love had already been known to him. -This suspicion was given by some words which accidentally dropped from -him one evening at the park, when they were sitting down together by -mutual consent, while the others were dancing. His eyes were fixed on -Marianne, and, after a silence of some minutes, he said, with a faint -smile, "Your sister, I understand, does not approve of second -attachments." - -"No," replied Elinor, "her opinions are all romantic." - -"Or rather, as I believe, she considers them impossible to exist." - -"I believe she does. But how she contrives it without reflecting on -the character of her own father, who had himself two wives, I know -not. A few years however will settle her opinions on the reasonable -basis of common sense and observation; and then they may be more easy -to define and to justify than they now are, by any body but herself." - -"This will probably be the case," he replied; "and yet there is -something so amiable in the prejudices of a young mind, that one is -sorry to see them give way to the reception of more general opinions." - -"I cannot agree with you there," said Elinor. "There are -inconveniences attending such feelings as Marianne's, which all the -charms of enthusiasm and ignorance of the world cannot atone for. Her -systems have all the unfortunate tendency of setting propriety at -nought; and a better acquaintance with the world is what I look -forward to as her greatest possible advantage." - -After a short pause he resumed the conversation by saying-- - -"Does your sister make no distinction in her objections against a -second attachment? or is it equally criminal in every body? Are those -who have been disappointed in their first choice, whether from the -inconstancy of its object, or the perverseness of circumstances, to be -equally indifferent during the rest of their lives?" - -"Upon my word, I am not acquainted with the minutiæ of her principles. -I only know that I never yet heard her admit any instance of a second -attachment's being pardonable." - -"This," said he, "cannot hold; but a change, a total change of -sentiments--No, no, do not desire it; for when the romantic -refinements of a young mind are obliged to give way, how frequently -are they succeeded by such opinions as are but too common, and too -dangerous! I speak from experience. I once knew a lady who in temper -and mind greatly resembled your sister, who thought and judged like -her, but who from an enforced change--from a series of unfortunate -circumstances--" Here he stopped suddenly; appeared to think that he -had said too much, and by his countenance gave rise to conjectures, -which might not otherwise have entered Elinor's head. The lady would -probably have passed without suspicion, had he not convinced Miss -Dashwood that what concerned her ought not to escape his lips. As it -was, it required but a slight effort of fancy to connect his emotion -with the tender recollection of past regard. Elinor attempted no more. -But Marianne, in her place, would not have done so little. The whole -story would have been speedily formed under her active imagination; -and every thing established in the most melancholy order of disastrous -love. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -As Elinor and Marianne were walking together the next morning the -latter communicated a piece of news to her sister, which in spite of -all that she knew before of Marianne's imprudence and want of thought, -surprised her by its extravagant testimony of both. Marianne told her, -with the greatest delight, that Willoughby had given her a horse, one -that he had bred himself on his estate in Somersetshire, and which was -exactly calculated to carry a woman. Without considering that it was -not in her mother's plan to keep any horse, that if she were to alter -her resolution in favour of this gift, she must buy another for the -servant, and keep a servant to ride it, and after all, build a stable -to receive them, she had accepted the present without hesitation, and -told her sister of it in raptures. - -"He intends to send his groom into Somersetshire immediately for it," -she added, "and when it arrives we will ride every day. You shall -share its use with me. Imagine to yourself, my dear Elinor, the -delight of a gallop on some of these downs." - -Most unwilling was she to awaken from such a dream of felicity to -comprehend all the unhappy truths which attended the affair; and for -some time she refused to submit to them. As to an additional servant, -the expense would be a trifle; Mamma she was sure would never object -to it; and any horse would do for _him_; he might always get one at -the park; as to a stable, the merest shed would be sufficient. Elinor -then ventured to doubt the propriety of her receiving such a present -from a man so little, or at least so lately known to her. This was too -much. - -"You are mistaken, Elinor," said she warmly, "in supposing I know very -little of Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed, but I am much -better acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature in the -world, except yourself and mama. It is not time or opportunity that is -to determine intimacy; it is disposition alone. Seven years would be -insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven -days are more than enough for others. I should hold myself guilty of -greater impropriety in accepting a horse from my brother, than from -Willoughby. Of John I know very little, though we have lived together -for years; but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed." - -Elinor thought it wisest to touch that point no more. She knew her -sister's temper. Opposition on so tender a subject would only attach -her the more to her own opinion. But by an appeal to her affection for -her mother, by representing the inconveniences which that indulgent -mother must draw on herself, if (as would probably be the case) she -consented to this increase of establishment, Marianne was shortly -subdued; and she promised not to tempt her mother to such imprudent -kindness by mentioning the offer, and to tell Willoughby when she saw -him next, that it must be declined. - -She was faithful to her word; and when Willoughby called at the -cottage, the same day, Elinor heard her express her disappointment to -him in a low voice, on being obliged to forego the acceptance of his -present. The reasons for this alteration were at the same time -related, and they were such as to make further entreaty on his side -impossible. His concern however was very apparent; and after -expressing it with earnestness, he added, in the same low voice, "But, -Marianne, the horse is still yours, though you cannot use it now. I -shall keep it only till you can claim it. When you leave Barton to -form your own establishment in a more lasting home, Queen Mab shall -receive you." - -This was all overheard by Miss Dashwood; and in the whole of the -sentence, in his manner of pronouncing it, and in his addressing her -sister by her Christian name alone, she instantly saw an intimacy so -decided, a meaning so direct, as marked a perfect agreement between -them. From that moment she doubted not of their being engaged to each -other; and the belief of it created no other surprise than that she, -or any of their friends, should be left by tempers so frank, to -discover it by accident. - -Margaret related something to her the next day, which placed this -matter in a still clearer light. Willoughby had spent the preceding -evening with them, and Margaret, by being left some time in the -parlour with only him and Marianne, had had opportunity for -observations, which, with a most important face, she communicated to -her eldest sister, when they were next by themselves. - -"Oh, Elinor!" she cried, "I have such a secret to tell you about -Marianne. I am sure she will be married to Mr. Willoughby very soon." - -"You have said so," replied Elinor, "almost every day since they first -met on High-church Down; and they had not known each other a week, I -believe, before you were certain that Marianne wore his picture round -her neck; but it turned out to be only the miniature of our great -uncle." - -"But indeed this is quite another thing. I am sure they will be -married very soon, for he has got a lock of her hair." - -"Take care, Margaret. It may be only the hair of some great uncle of -_his_." - -"But, indeed, Elinor, it is Marianne's. I am almost sure it is, for I -saw him cut it off. Last night after tea, when you and mama went out -of the room, they were whispering and talking together as fast as -could be, and he seemed to be begging something of her, and presently -he took up her scissors and cut off a long lock of her hair, for it -was all tumbled down her back; and he kissed it, and folded it up in a -piece of white paper; and put it into his pocket-book." - -For such particulars, stated on such authority, Elinor could not -withhold her credit; nor was she disposed to it, for the circumstance -was in perfect unison with what she had heard and seen herself. - -Margaret's sagacity was not always displayed in a way so satisfactory -to her sister. When Mrs. Jennings attacked her one evening at the -park, to give the name of the young man who was Elinor's particular -favourite, which had been long a matter of great curiosity to her, -Margaret answered by looking at her sister, and saying, "I must not -tell, may I, Elinor?" - -This of course made every body laugh; and Elinor tried to laugh too. -But the effort was painful. She was convinced that Margaret had fixed -on a person whose name she could not bear with composure to become a -standing joke with Mrs. Jennings. - -[Illustration: _He cut off a long lock of her hair._] - -Marianne felt for her most sincerely; but she did more harm than good -to the cause, by turning very red and saying in an angry manner to -Margaret-- - -"Remember that whatever your conjectures may be, you have no right to -repeat them." - -"I never had any conjectures about it," replied Margaret; "it was you -who told me of it yourself." - -This increased the mirth of the company, and Margaret was eagerly -pressed to say something more. - -"Oh! pray, Miss Margaret, let us know all about it," said Mrs. -Jennings. "What is the gentleman's name?" - -"I must not tell, ma'am. But I know very well what it is; and I know -where he is too." - -"Yes, yes, we can guess where he is; at his own house at Norland to be -sure. He is the curate of the parish I dare say." - -"No, _that_ he is not. He is of no profession at all." - -"Margaret," said Marianne with great warmth, "you know that all this -is an invention of your own, and that there is no such person in -existence." - -"Well, then, he is lately dead, Marianne, for I am sure there was such -a man once, and his name begins with an F." - -Most grateful did Elinor feel to Lady Middleton for observing, at this -moment, "that it rained very hard," though she believed the -interruption to proceed less from any attention to her, than from her -ladyship's great dislike of all such inelegant subjects of raillery as -delighted her husband and mother. The idea however started by her, was -immediately pursued by Colonel Brandon, who was on every occasion -mindful of the feelings of others; and much was said on the subject of -rain by both of them. Willoughby opened the piano-forte, and asked -Marianne to sit down to it; and thus amidst the various endeavours of -different people to quit the topic, it fell to the ground. But not so -easily did Elinor recover from the alarm into which it had thrown her. - -A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see -a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a -brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not -be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict -orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, -and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be -allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit -them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They -contained a noble piece of water--a sail on which was to a form a -great part of the morning's amusement; cold provisions were to be -taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted -in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure. - -To some few of the company it appeared rather a bold undertaking, -considering the time of year, and that it had rained every day for the -last fortnight; and Mrs. Dashwood, who had already a cold, was -persuaded by Elinor to stay at home. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -Their intended excursion to Whitwell turned out very different from -what Elinor had expected. She was prepared to be wet through, -fatigued, and frightened; but the event was still more unfortunate, -for they did not go at all. - -By ten o'clock the whole party was assembled at the park, where they -were to breakfast. The morning was rather favourable, though it had -rained all night, as the clouds were then dispersing across the sky, -and the sun frequently appeared. They were all in high spirits and -good humour, eager to be happy, and determined to submit to the -greatest inconveniences and hardships rather than be otherwise. - -While they were at breakfast the letters were brought in. Among the -rest there was one for Colonel Brandon:--he took it, looked at the -direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room. - -"What is the matter with Brandon?" said Sir John. - -Nobody could tell. - -"I hope he has had no bad news," said Lady Middleton. "It must be -something extraordinary that could make Colonel Brandon leave my -breakfast table so suddenly." - -In about five minutes he returned. - -"No bad news, Colonel, I hope;" said Mrs. Jennings, as soon as he -entered the room. - -"None at all, ma'am, I thank you." - -"Was it from Avignon? I hope it is not to say that your sister is -worse." - -"No, ma'am. It came from town, and is merely a letter of business." - -"But how came the hand to discompose you so much, if it was only a -letter of business? Come, come, this won't do, Colonel; so let us hear -the truth of it." - -"My dear madam," said Lady Middleton, "recollect what you are saying." - -"Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin Fanny is married?" said -Mrs. Jennings, without attending to her daughter's reproof. - -"No, indeed, it is not." - -"Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel. And I hope she is well." - -"Whom do you mean, ma'am?" said he, colouring a little. - -"Oh! you know who I mean." - -"I am particularly sorry, ma'am," said he, addressing Lady Middleton, -"that I should receive this letter today, for it is on business which -requires my immediate attendance in town." - -"In town!" cried Mrs. Jennings. "What can you have to do in town at -this time of year?" - -"My own loss is great," he continued, "in being obliged to leave so -agreeable a party; but I am the more concerned, as I fear my presence -is necessary to gain your admittance at Whitwell." - -What a blow upon them all was this! - -"But if you write a note to the housekeeper, Mr. Brandon," said -Marianne, eagerly, "will it not be sufficient?" - -He shook his head. - -"We must go," said Sir John. "It shall not be put off when we are so -near it. You cannot go to town till tomorrow, Brandon, that is all." - -"I wish it could be so easily settled. But it is not in my power to -delay my journey for one day!" - -"If you would but let us know what your business is," said Mrs. -Jennings, "we might see whether it could be put off or not." - -"You would not be six hours later," said Willoughby, "if you were to -defer your journey till our return." - -"I cannot afford to lose _one_ hour." - -Elinor then heard Willoughby say, in a low voice to Marianne, "There -are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of -them. He was afraid of catching cold I dare say, and invented this -trick for getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was -of his own writing." - -"I have no doubt of it," replied Marianne. - -"There is no persuading you to change your mind, Brandon, I know of -old," said Sir John, "when once you are determined on anything. But, -however, I hope you will think better of it. Consider, here are the -two Miss Careys come over from Newton, the three Miss Dashwoods walked -up from the cottage, and Mr. Willoughby got up two hours before his -usual time, on purpose to go to Whitwell." - -Colonel Brandon again repeated his sorrow at being the cause of -disappointing the party; but at the same time declared it to be -unavoidable. - -"Well, then, when will you come back again?" - -"I hope we shall see you at Barton," added her ladyship, "as soon as -you can conveniently leave town; and we must put off the party to -Whitwell till you return." - -"You are very obliging. But it is so uncertain, when I may have it in -my power to return, that I dare not engage for it at all." - -"Oh! he must and shall come back," cried Sir John. "If he is not here -by the end of the week, I shall go after him." - -"Ay, so do, Sir John," cried Mrs. Jennings, "and then perhaps you may -find out what his business is." - -"I do not want to pry into other men's concerns. I suppose it is -something he is ashamed of." - -Colonel Brandon's horses were announced. - -"You do not go to town on horseback, do you?" added Sir John. - -"No. Only to Honiton. I shall then go post." - -"Well, as you are resolved to go, I wish you a good journey. But you -had better change your mind." - -"I assure you it is not in my power." - -He then took leave of the whole party. - -"Is there no chance of my seeing you and your sisters in town this -winter, Miss Dashwood?" - -"I am afraid, none at all." - -"Then I must bid you farewell for a longer time than I should wish to -do." - -To Marianne, he merely bowed and said nothing. - -"Come Colonel," said Mrs. Jennings, "before you go, do let us know -what you are going about." - -He wished her a good morning, and, attended by Sir John, left the -room. - -The complaints and lamentations which politeness had hitherto -restrained, now burst forth universally; and they all agreed again and -again how provoking it was to be so disappointed. - -"I can guess what his business is, however," said Mrs. Jennings -exultingly. - -"Can you, ma'am?" said almost every body. - -"Yes; it is about Miss Williams, I am sure." - -"And who is Miss Williams?" asked Marianne. - -"What! do not you know who Miss Williams is? I am sure you must have -heard of her before. She is a relation of the Colonel's, my dear; a -very near relation. We will not say how near, for fear of shocking the -young ladies." Then, lowering her voice a little, she said to Elinor, -"She is his natural daughter." - -"Indeed!" - -"Oh, yes; and as like him as she can stare. I dare say the Colonel -will leave her all his fortune." - -When Sir John returned, he joined most heartily in the general regret -on so unfortunate an event; concluding however by observing, that as -they were all got together, they must do something by way of being -happy; and after some consultation it was agreed, that although -happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell, they might procure a -tolerable composure of mind by driving about the country. The -carriages were then ordered; Willoughby's was first, and Marianne -never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove through the -park very fast, and they were soon out of sight; and nothing more of -them was seen till their return, which did not happen till after the -return of all the rest. They both seemed delighted with their drive; -but said only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes, while -the others went on the downs. - -It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening, and that -every body should be extremely merry all day long. Some more of the -Careys came to dinner, and they had the pleasure of sitting down -nearly twenty to table, which Sir John observed with great -contentment. Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder -Miss Dashwoods. Mrs. Jennings sat on Elinor's right hand; and they had -not been long seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, and -said to Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, "I have found you -out in spite of all your tricks. I know where you spent the morning." - -Marianne coloured, and replied very hastily, "Where, pray?" - -"Did not you know," said Willoughby, "that we had been out in my -curricle?" - -"Yes, yes, Mr. Impudence, I know that very well, and I was determined -to find out _where_ you had been to. I hope you like your house, Miss -Marianne. It is a very large one, I know; and when I come to see you, -I hope you will have new-furnished it, for it wanted it very much when -I was there six years ago." - -Marianne turned away in great confusion. Mrs. Jennings laughed -heartily; and Elinor found that in her resolution to know where they -had been, she had actually made her own woman enquire of Mr. -Willoughby's groom; and that she had by that method been informed that -they had gone to Allenham, and spent a considerable time there in -walking about the garden and going all over the house. - -Elinor could hardly believe this to be true, as it seemed very -unlikely that Willoughby should propose, or Marianne consent, to enter -the house while Mrs. Smith was in it, with whom Marianne had not the -smallest acquaintance. - -As soon as they left the dining-room, Elinor enquired of her about it; -and great was her surprise when she found that every circumstance -related by Mrs. Jennings was perfectly true. Marianne was quite angry -with her for doubting it. - -"Why should you imagine, Elinor, that we did not go there, or that we -did not see the house? Is not it what you have often wished to do -yourself?" - -"Yes, Marianne, but I would not go while Mrs. Smith was there, and -with no other companion than Mr. Willoughby." - -[Illustration: "_I have found you out in spite of all your tricks._"] - -"Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to -show that house; and as he went in an open carriage, it was -impossible to have any other companion. I never spent a pleasanter -morning in my life." - -"I am afraid," replied Elinor, "that the pleasantness of an employment -does not always evince its propriety." - -"On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof of it, Elinor; for -if there had been any real impropriety in what I did, I should have -been sensible of it at the time, for we always know when we are acting -wrong, and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure." - -"But, my dear Marianne, as it has already exposed you to some very -impertinent remarks, do you not now begin to doubt the discretion of -your own conduct?" - -"If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. Jennings are to be the proof of -impropriety in conduct, we are all offending every moment of our -lives. I value not her censure any more than I should do her -commendation. I am not sensible of having done anything wrong in -walking over Mrs. Smith's grounds, or in seeing her house. They will -one day be Mr. Willoughby's, and--" - -"If they were one day to be your own, Marianne, you would not be -justified in what you have done." - -She blushed at this hint; but it was even visibly gratifying to her; -and after a ten minutes' interval of earnest thought, she came to her -sister again, and said with great good humour, "Perhaps, Elinor, it -_was_ rather ill-judged in me to go to Allenham; but Mr. Willoughby -wanted particularly to show me the place; and it is a charming house, -I assure you. There is one remarkably pretty sitting room up stairs; -of a nice comfortable size for constant use, and with modern furniture -it would be delightful. It is a corner room, and has windows on two -sides. On one side you look across the bowling-green, behind the -house, to a beautiful hanging wood, and on the other you have a view -of the church and village, and, beyond them, of those fine bold hills -that we have so often admired. I did not see it to advantage, for -nothing could be more forlorn than the furniture; but if it were newly -fitted up--a couple of hundred pounds, Willoughby says, would make it -one of the pleasantest summer-rooms in England." - -Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the -others, she would have described every room in the house with equal -delight. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon's visit at the park, with -his steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised -the wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great -wonderer, as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all -the comings and goings of all their acquaintance. She wondered, with -little intermission what could be the reason of it; was sure there -must be some bad news, and thought over every kind of distress that -could have befallen him, with a fixed determination that he should not -escape them all. - -"Something very melancholy must be the matter, I am sure," said she. -"I could see it in his face. Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances -may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two -thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do -think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else -can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know -the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I -dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. -May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I -have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is -about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed -in his circumstances _now_, for he is a very prudent man, and to be -sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can -be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. -His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him -out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the -bargain." - -So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings. Her opinion varying with every -fresh conjecture, and all seeming equally probable as they arose. -Elinor, though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel -Brandon, could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly -away, which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling; for besides -that the circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting -amazement or variety of speculation, her wonder was otherwise -disposed of. It was engrossed by the extraordinary silence of her -sister and Willoughby on the subject, which they must know to be -peculiarly interesting to them all. As this silence continued, every -day made it appear more strange and more incompatible with the -disposition of both. Why they should not openly acknowledge to her -mother and herself, what their constant behaviour to each other -declared to have taken place, Elinor could not imagine. - -She could easily conceive that marriage might not be immediately in -their power; for though Willoughby was independent, there was no -reason to believe him rich. His estate had been rated by Sir John at -about six or seven hundred a year; but he lived at an expense to which -that income could hardly be equal, and he had himself often complained -of his poverty. But for this strange kind of secrecy maintained by -them relative to their engagement, which in fact concealed nothing at -all, she could not account; and it was so wholly contradictory to -their general opinions and practice, that a doubt sometimes entered -her mind of their being really engaged, and this doubt was enough to -prevent her making any inquiry of Marianne. - -Nothing could be more expressive of attachment to them all, than -Willoughby's behaviour. To Marianne it had all the distinguishing -tenderness which a lover's heart could give, and to the rest of the -family it was the affectionate attention of a son and a brother. The -cottage seemed to be considered and loved by him as his home; many -more of his hours were spent there than at Allenham; and if no general -engagement collected them at the park, the exercise which called him -out in the morning was almost certain of ending there, where the rest -of the day was spent by himself at the side of Marianne, and by his -favourite pointer at her feet. - -One evening in particular, about a week after Colonel Brandon left the -country, his heart seemed more than usually open to every feeling of -attachment to the objects around him; and on Mrs. Dashwood's happening -to mention her design of improving the cottage in the spring, he -warmly opposed every alteration of a place which affection had -established as perfect with him. - -"What!" he exclaimed, "Improve this dear cottage! No. _That_ I will -never consent to. Not a stone must be added to its walls, not an inch -to its size, if my feelings are regarded." - -"Do not be alarmed," said Miss Dashwood, "nothing of the kind will be -done; for my mother will never have money enough to attempt it." - -"I am heartily glad of it," he cried. "May she always be poor, if she -can employ her riches no better." - -"Thank you, Willoughby. But you may be assured that I would not -sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment of yours, or of any one -whom I loved, for all the improvements in the world. Depend upon it -that whatever unemployed sum may remain, when I make up my accounts in -the spring, I would even rather lay it uselessly by than dispose of it -in a manner so painful to you. But are you really so attached to this -place as to see no defect in it?" - -"I am," said he. "To me it is faultless. Nay, more, I consider it as -the only form of building in which happiness is attainable, and were I -rich enough I would instantly pull Combe down, and build it up again -in the exact plan of this cottage." - -"With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes, I suppose," said -Elinor. - -"Yes," cried he in the same eager tone, "with all and every thing -belonging to it--in no one convenience or inconvenience about it, -should the least variation be perceptible. Then, and then only, under -such a roof, I might perhaps be as happy at Combe as I have been at -Barton." - -"I flatter myself," replied Elinor, "that even under the disadvantage -of better rooms and a broader staircase, you will hereafter find your -own house as faultless as you now do this." - -"There certainly are circumstances," said Willoughby, "which might -greatly endear it to me; but this place will always have one claim of -my affection, which no other can possibly share." - -Mrs. Dashwood looked with pleasure at Marianne, whose fine eyes were -fixed so expressively on Willoughby, as plainly denoted how well she -understood him. - -"How often did I wish," added he, "when I was at Allenham this time -twelvemonth, that Barton cottage were inhabited! I never passed within -view of it without admiring its situation, and grieving that no one -should live in it. How little did I then think that the very first -news I should hear from Mrs. Smith, when I next came into the country, -would be that Barton cottage was taken: and I felt an immediate -satisfaction and interest in the event, which nothing but a kind of -prescience of what happiness I should experience from it, can account -for. Must it not have been so, Marianne?" speaking to her in a lowered -voice. Then continuing his former tone, he said, "And yet this house -you would spoil, Mrs. Dashwood? You would rob it of its simplicity by -imaginary improvement! and this dear parlour in which our acquaintance -first began, and in which so many happy hours have been since spent by -us together, you would degrade to the condition of a common entrance, -and every body would be eager to pass through the room which has -hitherto contained within itself more real accommodation and comfort -than any other apartment of the handsomest dimensions in the world -could possibly afford." - -Mrs. Dashwood again assured him that no alteration of the kind should -be attempted. - -"You are a good woman," he warmly replied. "Your promise makes me -easy. Extend it a little farther, and it will make me happy. Tell me -that not only your house will remain the same, but that I shall ever -find you and yours as unchanged as your dwelling; and that you will -always consider me with the kindness which has made everything -belonging to you so dear to me." - -The promise was readily given, and Willoughby's behaviour during the -whole of the evening declared at once his affection and happiness. - -"Shall we see you tomorrow to dinner?" said Mrs. Dashwood, when he was -leaving them. "I do not ask you to come in the morning, for we must -walk to the park, to call on Lady Middleton." - -He engaged to be with them by four o'clock. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -Mrs. Dashwood's visit to Lady Middleton took place the next day, and -two of her daughters went with her; but Marianne excused herself from -being of the party, under some trifling pretext of employment; and her -mother, who concluded that a promise had been made by Willoughby the -night before of calling on her while they were absent, was perfectly -satisfied with her remaining at home. - -On their return from the park they found Willoughby's curricle and -servant in waiting at the cottage, and Mrs. Dashwood was convinced -that her conjecture had been just. So far it was all as she had -foreseen; but on entering the house she beheld what no foresight had -taught her to expect. They were no sooner in the passage than Marianne -came hastily out of the parlour apparently in violent affliction, with -her handkerchief at her eyes; and without noticing them ran up stairs. -Surprised and alarmed they proceeded directly into the room she had -just quitted, where they found only Willoughby, who was leaning -against the mantelpiece with his back towards them. He turned round -on their coming in, and his countenance showed that he strongly -partook of the emotion which overpowered Marianne. - -"Is anything the matter with her?" cried Mrs. Dashwood as she -entered:--"is she ill?" - -"I hope not," he replied, trying to look cheerful; and with a forced -smile presently added, "It is I who may rather expect to be ill--for I -am now suffering under a very heavy disappointment!" - -"Disappointment?" - -"Yes, for I am unable to keep my engagement with you. Mrs. Smith has -this morning exercised the privilege of riches upon a poor dependent -cousin, by sending me on business to London. I have just received my -dispatches, and taken my farewell of Allenham; and by way of -exhilaration I am now come to take my farewell of you." - -"To London!--and are you going this morning?" - -"Almost this moment." - -[Illustration: _Apparently in violent affliction._] - -"This is very unfortunate. But Mrs. Smith must be obliged, and her -business will not detain you from us long I hope." - -He coloured as he replied, "You are very kind, but I have no idea of -returning into Devonshire immediately. My visits to Mrs. Smith are -never repeated within the twelvemonth." - -"And is Mrs. Smith your only friend? Is Allenham the only house in the -neighbourhood to which you will be welcome? For shame, Willoughby, can -you wait for an invitation here?" - -His colour increased; and with his eyes fixed on the ground he only -replied, "You are too good." - -Mrs. Dashwood looked at Elinor with surprise. Elinor felt equal -amazement. For a few moments every one was silent. Mrs. Dashwood first -spoke. - -"I have only to add, my dear Willoughby, that at Barton cottage you -will always be welcome; for I will not press you to return here -immediately, because you only can judge how far _that_ might be -pleasing to Mrs. Smith; and on this head I shall be no more disposed -to question your judgment than to doubt your inclination." - -"My engagements at present," replied Willoughby, confusedly, "are of -such a nature--that--I dare not flatter myself--" - -He stopped. Mrs. Dashwood was too much astonished to speak, and -another pause succeeded. This was broken by Willoughby, who said with -a faint smile, "It is folly to linger in this manner. I will not -torment myself any longer by remaining among friends whose society it -is impossible for me now to enjoy." - -He then hastily took leave of them all and left the room. They saw him -step into his carriage, and in a minute it was out of sight. - -Mrs. Dashwood felt too much for speech, and instantly quitted the -parlour to give way in solitude to the concern and alarm which this -sudden departure occasioned. - -Elinor's uneasiness was at least equal to her mother's. She thought of -what had just passed with anxiety and distrust. Willoughby's behaviour -in taking leave of them, his embarrassment, and affectation of -cheerfulness, and, above all, his unwillingness to accept her mother's -invitation--a backwardness so unlike a lover, so unlike -himself--greatly disturbed her. One moment she feared that no serious -design had ever been formed on his side; and the next that some -unfortunate quarrel had taken place between him and her sister. The -distress in which Marianne had quitted the room was such as a serious -quarrel could most reasonably account for, though when she considered -what Marianne's love for him was, a quarrel seemed almost impossible. - -But whatever might be the particulars of their separation, her -sister's affliction was indubitable; and she thought with the -tenderest compassion of that violent sorrow which Marianne was in all -probability not merely giving way to as a relief, but feeding and -encouraging as a duty. - -In about half an hour her mother returned, and though her eyes were -red, her countenance was not uncheerful. - -"Our dear Willoughby is now some miles from Barton, Elinor," said she, -as she sat down to work, "and with how heavy a heart does he travel?" - -"It is all very strange. So suddenly to be gone! It seems but the work -of a moment. And last night he was with us so happy, so cheerful, so -affectionate? And now, after only ten minutes notice,--gone too -without intending to return! Something more than what he owned to us -must have happened. He did not speak, he did not behave like himself. -_You_ must have seen the difference as well as I. What can it be? Can -they have quarrelled? Why else should he have shown such unwillingness -to accept your invitation here?" - -"It was not inclination that he wanted, Elinor; I could plainly see -_that._ He had not the power of accepting it. I have thought it all -over I assure you, and I can perfectly account for every thing that at -first seemed strange to me as well as to you." - -"Can you, indeed!" - -"Yes. I have explained it to myself in the most satisfactory way; but -you, Elinor, who love to doubt where you can--it will not satisfy -_you_, I know; but you shall not talk _me_ out of my trust in it. I am -persuaded that Mrs. Smith suspects his regard for Marianne, -disapproves of it, (perhaps because she has other views for him,) and -on that account is eager to get him away; and that the business which -she sends him off to transact is invented as an excuse to dismiss -him. This is what I believe to have happened. He is, moreover, aware -that she _does_ disapprove the connection, he dares not therefore at -present confess to her his engagement with Marianne, and he feels -himself obliged, from his dependent situation, to give into her -schemes, and absent himself from Devonshire for a while. You will tell -me, I know, that this may or may _not_ have happened; but I will -listen to no cavil, unless you can point out any other method of -understanding the affair as satisfactory at this. And now, Elinor, -what have you to say?" - -"Nothing, for you have anticipated my answer." - -"Then you would have told me, that it might or might not have -happened. Oh, Elinor, how incomprehensible are your feelings! You had -rather take evil upon credit than good. You had rather look out for -misery for Marianne, and guilt for poor Willoughby, than an apology -for the latter. You are resolved to think him blamable, because he -took leave of us with less affection than his usual behaviour has -shown. And is no allowance to be made for inadvertence, or for spirits -depressed by recent disappointment? Are no probabilities to be -accepted, merely because they are not certainties? Is nothing due to -the man whom we have all such reason to love, and no reason in the -world to think ill of?--to the possibility of motives unanswerable in -themselves, though unavoidably secret for a while? And, after all, -what is it you suspect him of?" - -"I can hardly tell myself. But suspicion of something unpleasant is -the inevitable consequence of such an alteration as we just witnessed -in him. There is great truth, however, in what you have now urged of -the allowances which ought to be made for him, and it is my wish to be -candid in my judgment of every body. Willoughby may undoubtedly have -very sufficient reasons for his conduct, and I will hope that he has. -But it would have been more like Willoughby to acknowledge them at -once. Secrecy may be advisable; but still I cannot help wondering at -its being practiced by him." - -"Do not blame him, however, for departing from his character, where -the deviation is necessary. But you really do admit the justice of -what I have said in his defence?--I am happy--and he is acquitted." - -"Not entirely. It may be proper to conceal their engagement (if they -_are_ engaged) from Mrs. Smith; and if that is the case, it must be -highly expedient for Willoughby to be but little in Devonshire at -present. But this is no excuse for their concealing it from us." - -"Concealing it from us! my dear child, do you accuse Willoughby and -Marianne of concealment? This is strange indeed, when your eyes have -been reproaching them every day for incautiousness." - -"I want no proof of their affection," said Elinor; "but of their -engagement I do." - -"I am perfectly satisfied of both." - -"Yet not a syllable has been said to you on the subject, by either of -them." - -"I have not wanted syllables where actions have spoken so plainly. Has -not his behaviour to Marianne and to all of us, for at least the last -fortnight, declared that he loved and considered her as his future -wife, and that he felt for us the attachment of the nearest relation? -Have we not perfectly understood each other? Has not my consent been -daily asked by his looks, his manner, his attentive and affectionate -respect? My Elinor, is it possible to doubt their engagement? How -could such a thought occur to you? How is it to be supposed that -Willoughby, persuaded as he must be of your sister's love, should -leave her, and leave her perhaps for months, without telling her of -his affection,--that they should part without a mutual exchange of -confidence?" - -"I confess," replied Elinor, "that every circumstance except _one_ is -in favour of their engagement; but that _one_ is the total silence of -both on the subject, and with me it almost outweighs every other." - -"How strange this is! You must think wretchedly indeed of Willoughby, -if, after all that has openly passed between them, you can doubt the -nature of the terms on which they are together. Has he been acting a -part in his behaviour to your sister all this time? Do you suppose him -really indifferent to her?" - -"No, I cannot think that. He must and does love her I am sure." - -"But with a strange kind of tenderness, if he can leave her with such -indifference, such carelessness of the future, as you attribute to -him." - -"You must remember, my dear mother, that I have never considered this -matter as certain. I have had my doubts, I confess; but they are -fainter than they were, and they may soon be entirely done away. If we -find they correspond, every fear of mine will be removed." - -"A mighty concession indeed! If you were to see them at the altar, you -would suppose they were going to be married. Ungracious girl! But I -require no such proof. Nothing in my opinion has ever passed to -justify doubt; no secrecy has been attempted; all has been uniformly -open and unreserved. You cannot doubt your sister's wishes. It must be -Willoughby therefore whom you suspect. But why? Is he not a man of -honour and feeling? Has there been any inconsistency on his side to -create alarm? can he be deceitful?" - -"I hope not, I believe not," cried Elinor. "I love Willoughby, -sincerely love him; and suspicion of his integrity cannot be more -painful to yourself than to me. It has been involuntary, and I will -not encourage it. I was startled, I confess, by the alteration in his -manners this morning; he did not speak like himself, and did not -return your kindness with any cordiality. But all this may be -explained by such a situation of his affairs as you have supposed. He -had just parted from my sister, had seen her leave him in the greatest -affliction; and if he felt obliged, from a fear of offending Mrs. -Smith, to resist the temptation of returning here soon, and yet aware -that by declining your invitation, by saying that he was going away -for some time, he should seem to act an ungenerous, a suspicious part -by our family, he might well be embarrassed and disturbed. In such a -case, a plain and open avowal of his difficulties would have been more -to his honour I think, as well as more consistent with his general -character;--but I will not raise objections against any one's conduct -on so illiberal a foundation, as a difference in judgment from myself, -or a deviation from what I may think right and consistent." - -"You speak very properly. Willoughby certainly does not deserve to be -suspected. Though _we_ have not known him long, he is no stranger in -this part of the world; and who has ever spoken to his disadvantage? -Had he been in a situation to act independently and marry immediately, -it might have been odd that he should leave us without acknowledging -everything to me at once: but this is not the case. It is an -engagement in some respects not prosperously begun, for their marriage -must be at a very uncertain distance; and even secrecy, as far as it -can be observed, may now be very advisable." - -They were interrupted by the entrance of Margaret; and Elinor was then -at liberty to think over the representations of her mother, to -acknowledge the probability of many, and hope for the justice of all. - -They saw nothing of Marianne till dinner time, when she entered the -room and took her place at the table without saying a word. Her eyes -were red and swollen; and it seemed as if her tears were even then -restrained with difficulty. She avoided the looks of them all, could -neither eat nor speak, and after some time, on her mother's silently -pressing her hand with tender compassion, her small degree of -fortitude was quite overcome, she burst into tears and left the room. - -This violent oppression of spirits continued the whole evening. She -was without any power, because she was without any desire of command -over herself. The slightest mention of anything relative to Willoughby -overpowered her in an instant; and though her family were most -anxiously attentive to her comfort, it was impossible for them, if -they spoke at all, to keep clear of every subject which her feelings -connected with him. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able -to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. She -would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next -morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than -when she lay down in it. But the feelings which made such composure a -disgrace, left her in no danger of incurring it. She was awake the -whole night, and she wept the greatest part of it. She got up with a -headache, was unable to talk, and unwilling to take any nourishment; -giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters, and forbidding -all attempt at consolation from either. Her sensibility was potent -enough! - -When breakfast was over she walked out by herself, and wandered about -the village of Allenham, indulging the recollection of past enjoyment -and crying over the present reverse for the chief of the morning. - -The evening passed off in the equal indulgence of feeling. She played -over every favourite song that she had been used to play to -Willoughby, every air in which their voices had been oftenest joined, -and sat at the instrument gazing on every line of music that he had -written out for her, till her heart was so heavy that no farther -sadness could be gained; and this nourishment of grief was every day -applied. She spent whole hours at the pianoforte alternately singing -and crying; her voice often totally suspended by her tears. In books -too, as well as in music, she courted the misery which a contrast -between the past and present was certain of giving. She read nothing -but what they had been used to read together. - -Such violence of affliction indeed could not be supported for ever; it -sunk within a few days into a calmer melancholy; but these -employments, to which she daily recurred, her solitary walks and -silent meditations, still produced occasional effusions of sorrow as -lively as ever. - -No letter from Willoughby came; and none seemed expected by Marianne. -Her mother was surprised, and Elinor again became uneasy. But Mrs. -Dashwood could find explanations whenever she wanted them, which at -least satisfied herself. - -"Remember, Elinor," said she, "how very often Sir John fetches our -letters himself from the post, and carries them to it. We have already -agreed that secrecy may be necessary, and we must acknowledge that it -could not be maintained if their correspondence were to pass through -Sir John's hands." - -Elinor could not deny the truth of this, and she tried to find in it a -motive sufficient for their silence. But there was one method so -direct, so simple, and in her opinion so eligible of knowing the real -state of the affair, and of instantly removing all mystery, that she -could not help suggesting it to her mother. - -"Why do you not ask Marianne at once," said she, "whether she is or -she is not engaged to Willoughby? From you, her mother, and so kind, -so indulgent a mother, the question could not give offence. It would -be the natural result of your affection for her. She used to be all -unreserve, and to you more especially." - -"I would not ask such a question for the world. Supposing it possible -that they are not engaged, what distress would not such an enquiry -inflict! At any rate it would be most ungenerous. I should never -deserve her confidence again, after forcing from her a confession of -what is meant at present to be unacknowledged to any one. I know -Marianne's heart: I know that she dearly loves me, and that I shall -not be the last to whom the affair is made known, when circumstances -make the revealment of it eligible. I would not attempt to force the -confidence of any one; of a child much less; because a sense of duty -would prevent the denial which her wishes might direct." - -Elinor thought this generosity overstrained, considering her sister's -youth, and urged the matter farther, but in vain; common sense, common -care, common prudence, were all sunk in Mrs. Dashwood's romantic -delicacy. - -It was several days before Willoughby's name was mentioned before -Marianne by any of her family; Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, indeed, -were not so nice; their witticisms added pain to many a painful hour; -but one evening, Mrs. Dashwood, accidentally taking up a volume of -Shakespeare, exclaimed-- - -"We have never finished _Hamlet_, Marianne; our dear Willoughby went -away before we could get through it. We will put it by, that when he -comes again--; But it may be months, perhaps, before _that_ happens." - -"Months!" cried Marianne, with strong surprise. "No--nor many weeks." - -Mrs. Dashwood was sorry for what she had said; but it gave Elinor -pleasure, as it produced a reply from Marianne so expressive of -confidence in Willoughby and knowledge of his intentions. - -One morning, about a week after his leaving the country, Marianne was -prevailed on to join her sisters in their usual walk, instead of -wandering away by herself. Hitherto she had carefully avoided every -companion in her rambles. If her sisters intended to walk on the -downs, she directly stole away towards the lanes; if they talked of -the valley, she was as speedy in climbing the hills, and could never -be found when the others set off. But at length she was secured by the -exertions of Elinor, who greatly disapproved such continual seclusion. -They walked along the road through the valley, and chiefly in silence, -for Marianne's _mind_ could not be controlled, and Elinor, satisfied -with gaining one point, would not then attempt more. Beyond the -entrance of the valley, where the country, though still rich, was less -wild and more open, a long stretch of the road which they had -travelled on first coming to Barton, lay before them; and on reaching -that point, they stopped to look around them, and examine a prospect -which formed the distance of their view from the cottage, from a spot -which they had never happened to reach in any of their walks before. - -Amongst the objects in the scene, they soon discovered an animated -one; it was a man on horseback riding towards them. In a few minutes -they could distinguish him to be a gentleman; and in a moment -afterwards Marianne rapturously exclaimed-- - -"It is he; it is indeed--I know it is!" and was hastening to meet him, -when Elinor cried out-- - -"Indeed, Marianne, I think you are mistaken. It is not Willoughby. The -person is not tall enough for him, and has not his air." - -"He has, he has," cried Marianne, "I am sure he has. His air, his -coat, his horse. I knew how soon he would come." - -She walked eagerly on as she spoke; and Elinor, to screen Marianne -from particularity, as she felt almost certain of its not being -Willoughby, quickened her pace and kept up with her. They were soon -within thirty yards of the gentleman. Marianne looked again; her heart -sunk within her; and abruptly turning round, she was hurrying back, -when the voices of both her sisters were raised to detain her; a -third, almost as well known as Willoughby's, joined them in begging -her to stop, and she turned round with surprise to see and welcome -Edward Ferrars. - -[Illustration: _Begging her to stop._] - -He was the only person in the world who could at that moment be -forgiven for not being Willoughby; the only one who could have gained -a smile from her; but she dispersed her tears to smile on _him_, and -in her sister's happiness forgot for a time her own disappointment. - -He dismounted, and giving his horse to his servant, walked back with -them to Barton, whither he was purposely coming to visit them. - -He was welcomed by them all with great cordiality, but especially by -Marianne, who showed more warmth of regard in her reception of him -than even Elinor herself. To Marianne, indeed, the meeting between -Edward and her sister was but a continuation of that unaccountable -coldness which she had often observed at Norland in their mutual -behaviour. On Edward's side, more particularly, there was a deficiency -of all that a lover ought to look and say on such an occasion. He was -confused, seemed scarcely sensible of pleasure in seeing them, looked -neither rapturous nor gay, said little but what was forced from him by -questions, and distinguished Elinor by no mark of affection. Marianne -saw and listened with increasing surprise. She began almost to feel a -dislike of Edward; and it ended, as every feeling must end with her, -by carrying back her thoughts to Willoughby, whose manners formed a -contrast sufficiently striking to those of his brother elect. - -After a short silence which succeeded the first surprise and enquiries -of meeting, Marianne asked Edward if he came directly from London. No, -he had been in Devonshire a fortnight. - -"A fortnight!" she repeated, surprised at his being so long in the -same county with Elinor without seeing her before. - -He looked rather distressed as he added, that he had been staying with -some friends near Plymouth. - -"Have you been lately in Sussex?" said Elinor. - -"I was at Norland about a month ago." - -"And how does dear, dear Norland look?" cried Marianne. - -"Dear, dear Norland," said Elinor, "probably looks much as it always -does at this time of the year--the woods and walks thickly covered -with dead leaves." - -"Oh," cried Marianne, "with what transporting sensation have I -formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see -them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, -the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard -them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven -as much as possible from the sight." - -"It is not every one," said Elinor, "who has your passion for dead -leaves." - -"No; my feelings are not often shared, not often understood. But -_sometimes_ they are." As she said this, she sunk into a reverie for a -few moments; but rousing herself again, "Now, Edward," said she, -calling his attention to the prospect, "here is Barton valley. Look up -to it, and be tranquil if you can. Look at those hills! Did you ever -see their equals? To the left is Barton park, amongst those woods and -plantations. You may see the end of the house. And there, beneath that -farthest hill, which rises with such grandeur, is our cottage." - -"It is a beautiful country," he replied; "but these bottoms must be -dirty in winter." - -"How can you think of dirt, with such objects before you?" - -"Because," replied he, smiling, "among the rest of the objects before -me, I see a very dirty lane." - -"How strange!" said Marianne to herself as she walked on. - -"Have you an agreeable neighbourhood here? Are the Middletons pleasant -people?" - -"No, not all," answered Marianne; "we could not be more unfortunately -situated." - -"Marianne," cried her sister, "how can you say so? How can you be so -unjust? They are a very respectable family, Mr. Ferrars; and towards -us have behaved in the friendliest manner. Have you forgot, Marianne, -how many pleasant days we have owed to them?" - -"No," said Marianne, in a low voice, "nor how many painful moments." - -Elinor took no notice of this; and directing her attention to their -visitor, endeavoured to support something like discourse with him, by -talking of their present residence, its conveniences, &c. extorting -from him occasional questions and remarks. His coldness and reserve -mortified her severely; she was vexed and half angry; but resolving to -regulate her behaviour to him by the past rather than the present, -she avoided every appearance of resentment or displeasure, and treated -him as she thought he ought to be treated from the family connection. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Mrs. Dashwood was surprised only for a moment at seeing him; for his -coming to Barton was, in her opinion, of all things the most natural. -Her joy and expression of regard long outlived her wonder. He received -the kindest welcome from her; and shyness, coldness, reserve could not -stand against such a reception. They had begun to fail him before he -entered the house, and they were quite overcome by the captivating -manners of Mrs. Dashwood. Indeed a man could not very well be in love -with either of her daughters, without extending the passion to her; -and Elinor had the satisfaction of seeing him soon become more like -himself. His affections seemed to reanimate towards them all, and his -interest in their welfare again became perceptible. He was not in -spirits, however; he praised their house, admired its prospect, was -attentive, and kind; but still he was not in spirits. The whole family -perceived it, and Mrs. Dashwood, attributing it to some want of -liberality in his mother, sat down to table indignant against all -selfish parents. - -"What are Mrs. Ferrars's views for you at present, Edward?" said she, -when dinner was over and they had drawn round the fire; "are you still -to be a great orator in spite of yourself?" - -"No. I hope my mother is now convinced that I have no more talents -than inclination for a public life!" - -"But how is your fame to be established? for famous you must be to -satisfy all your family; and with no inclination for expense, no -affection for strangers, no profession, and no assurance, you may find -it a difficult matter." - -"I shall not attempt it. I have no wish to be distinguished; and have -every reason to hope I never shall. Thank Heaven! I cannot be forced -into genius and eloquence." - -"You have no ambition, I well know. Your wishes are all moderate." - -"As moderate as those of the rest of the world, I believe. I wish as -well as every body else to be perfectly happy; but, like every body -else it must be in my own way. Greatness will not make me so." - -"Strange that it would!" cried Marianne. "What have wealth or grandeur -to do with happiness?" - -"Grandeur has but little," said Elinor, "but wealth has much to do -with it." - -"Elinor, for shame!" said Marianne, "money can only give happiness -where there is nothing else to give it. Beyond a competence, it can -afford no real satisfaction, as far as mere self is concerned." - -"Perhaps," said Elinor, smiling, "we may come to the same point. -_Your_ competence and _my_ wealth are very much alike, I dare say; and -without them, as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every -kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas are only more -noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?" - -"About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year; not more than _that._" - -Elinor laughed. "_Two_ thousand a year! _One_ is my wealth! I guessed -how it would end." - -"And yet two thousand a-year is a very moderate income," said -Marianne. "A family cannot well be maintained on a smaller. I am sure -I am not extravagant in my demands. A proper establishment of -servants, a carriage, perhaps two, and hunters, cannot be supported on -less." - -Elinor smiled again, to hear her sister describing so accurately their -future expenses at Combe Magna. - -"Hunters!" repeated Edward; "but why must you have hunters? Every body -does not hunt." - -Marianne coloured as she replied, "But most people do." - -"I wish," said Margaret, striking out a novel thought, "that somebody -would give us all a large fortune a-piece!" - -"Oh that they would!" cried Marianne, her eyes sparkling with -animation, and her cheeks glowing with the delight of such imaginary -happiness. - -"We are all unanimous in that wish, I suppose," said Elinor, "in spite -of the insufficiency of wealth." - -"Oh dear!" cried Margaret, "how happy I should be! I wonder what I -should do with it!" - -Marianne looked as if she had no doubt on that point. - -"I should be puzzled to spend so large a fortune myself," said Mrs. -Dashwood, "if my children were all to be rich without my help." - -"You must begin your improvements on this house," observed Elinor, -"and your difficulties will soon vanish." - -"What magnificent orders would travel from this family to London," -said Edward, "in such an event! What a happy day for booksellers, -music-sellers, and print-shops! You, Miss Dashwood, would give a -general commission for every new print of merit to be sent you--and as -for Marianne, I know her greatness of soul, there would not be music -enough in London to content her. And books!--Thomson, Cowper, -Scott--she would buy them all over and over again: she would buy up -every copy, I believe, to prevent their falling into unworthy hands; -and she would have every book that tells her how to admire an old -twisted tree. Should not you, Marianne? Forgive me, if I am very -saucy. But I was willing to show you that I had not forgot our old -disputes." - -"I love to be reminded of the past, Edward--whether it be melancholy -or gay, I love to recall it--and you will never offend me by talking -of former times. You are very right in supposing how my money would be -spent; some of it, at least--my loose cash--would certainly be -employed in improving my collection of music and books." - -"And the bulk of your fortune would be laid out in annuities on the -authors or their heirs." - -"No, Edward, I should have something else to do with it." - -"Perhaps, then, you would bestow it as a reward on that person who -wrote the ablest defence of your favourite maxim, that no one can ever -be in love more than once in their life--for your opinion on that -point is unchanged, I presume?" - -"Undoubtedly. At my time of life opinions are tolerably fixed. It is -not likely that I should now see or hear any thing to change them." - -"Marianne is as steadfast as ever, you see," said Elinor, "she is not -at all altered." - -"She is only grown a little more grave than she was." - -"Nay, Edward," said Marianne, "you need not reproach me. You are not -very gay yourself." - -"Why should you think so!" replied he, with a sigh. "But gaiety never -was a part of _my_ character." - -"Nor do I think it a part of Marianne's," said Elinor; "I should -hardly call her a lively girl--she is very earnest, very eager in all -she does--sometimes talks a great deal and always with animation--but -she is not often really merry." - -"I believe you are right," he replied, "and yet I have always set her -down as a lively girl." - -"I have frequently detected myself in such kind of mistakes," said -Elinor, "in a total misapprehension of character in some point or -other: fancying people so much more gay or grave, or ingenious or -stupid than they really are, and I can hardly tell why or in what the -deception originated. Sometimes one is guided by what they say of -themselves, and very frequently by what other people say of them, -without giving oneself time to deliberate and judge." - -"But I thought it was right, Elinor," said Marianne, "to be guided -wholly by the opinion of other people. I thought our judgments were -given us merely to be subservient to those of neighbours. This has -always been your doctrine, I am sure." - -"No, Marianne, never. My doctrine has never aimed at the subjection of -the understanding. All I have ever attempted to influence has been the -behaviour. You must not confound my meaning. I am guilty, I confess, -of having often wished you to treat our acquaintance in general with -greater attention; but when have I advised you to adopt their -sentiments or to conform to their judgment in serious matters?" - -"You have not been able to bring your sister over to your plan of -general civility," said Edward to Elinor, "Do you gain no ground?" - -"Quite the contrary," replied Elinor, looking expressively at -Marianne. - -"My judgment," he returned, "is all on your side of the question; but -I am afraid my practice is much more on your sister's. I never wish to -offend, but I am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, when I -am only kept back by my natural awkwardness. I have frequently thought -that I must have been intended by nature to be fond of low company, I -am so little at my ease among strangers of gentility!" - -"Marianne has not shyness to excuse any inattention of hers," said -Elinor. - -"She knows her own worth too well for false shame," replied Edward. -"Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in some way or -other. If I could persuade myself that my manners were perfectly easy -and graceful, I should not be shy." - -"But you would still be reserved," said Marianne, "and that is worse." - -Edward started. "Reserved! Am I reserved, Marianne?" - -"Yes, very." - -"I do not understand you," replied he, colouring. "Reserved!--how, in -what manner? What am I to tell you? What can you suppose?" - -Elinor looked surprised at his emotion; but trying to laugh off the -subject, she said to him, "Do not you know my sister well enough to -understand what she means? Do not you know she calls every one -reserved who does not talk as fast, and admire what she admires as -rapturously as herself?" - -Edward made no answer. His gravity and thoughtfulness returned on him -in their fullest extent--and he sat for some time silent and dull. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Elinor saw, with great uneasiness the low spirits of her friend. His -visit afforded her but a very partial satisfaction, while his own -enjoyment in it appeared so imperfect. It was evident that he was -unhappy; she wished it were equally evident that he still -distinguished her by the same affection which once she had felt no -doubt of inspiring; but hitherto the continuance of his preference -seemed very uncertain; and the reservedness of his manner towards her -contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the -preceding one. - -He joined her and Marianne in the breakfast-room the next morning -before the others were down; and Marianne, who was always eager to -promote their happiness as far as she could, soon left them to -themselves. But before she was half way upstairs she heard the parlour -door open, and, turning round, was astonished to see Edward himself -come out. - -"I am going into the village to see my horses," said he, "as you are -not yet ready for breakfast; I shall be back again presently." - - * * * * * - -Edward returned to them with fresh admiration of the surrounding -country; in his walk to the village, he had seen many parts of the -valley to advantage; and the village itself, in a much higher -situation than the cottage, afforded a general view of the whole, -which had exceedingly pleased him. This was a subject which ensured -Marianne's attention, and she was beginning to describe her own -admiration of these scenes, and to question him more minutely on the -objects that had particularly struck him, when Edward interrupted her -by saying, "You must not enquire too far, Marianne: remember I have no -knowledge in the picturesque, and I shall offend you by my ignorance -and want of taste if we come to particulars. I shall call hills steep, -which ought to be bold; surfaces strange and uncouth, which ought to -be irregular and rugged; and distant objects out of sight, which ought -only to be indistinct through the soft medium of a hazy atmosphere. -You must be satisfied with such admiration as I can honestly give. I -call it a very fine country,--the hills are steep, the woods seem full -of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug,--with rich -meadows and several neat farm houses scattered here and there. It -exactly answers my idea of a fine country, because it unites beauty -with utility--and I dare say it is a picturesque one too, because you -admire it; I can easily believe it to be full of rocks and -promontories, grey moss and brush wood, but these are all lost on me. -I know nothing of the picturesque." - -"I am afraid it is but too true," said Marianne; "but why should you -boast of it?" - -"I suspect," said Elinor, "that to avoid one kind of affectation, -Edward here falls into another. Because he believes many people -pretend to more admiration of the beauties of nature than they really -feel, and is disgusted with such pretensions, he affects greater -indifference and less discrimination in viewing them himself than he -possesses. He is fastidious and will have an affectation of his own." - -"It is very true," said Marianne, "that admiration of landscape -scenery is become a mere jargon. Every body pretends to feel and tries -to describe with the taste and elegance of him who first defined what -picturesque beauty was. I detest jargon of every kind, and sometimes I -have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to -describe them in but what was worn and hackneyed out of all sense and -meaning." - -"I am convinced," said Edward, "that you really feel all the delight -in a fine prospect which you profess to feel. But, in return, your -sister must allow me to feel no more than I profess. I like a fine -prospect, but not on picturesque principles. I do not like crooked, -twisted, blasted trees. I admire them much more if they are tall, -straight, and flourishing. I do not like ruined, tattered cottages. I -am not fond of nettles or thistles, or heath blossoms. I have more -pleasure in a snug farm-house than a watch-tower,--and a troop of -tidy, happy villages please me better than the finest banditti in the -world." - -Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, with compassion at her -sister. Elinor only laughed. - -The subject was continued no farther; and Marianne remained -thoughtfully silent, till a new object suddenly engaged her attention. -She was sitting by Edward, and in taking his tea from Mrs. Dashwood, -his hand passed so directly before her, as to make a ring, with a -plait of hair in the centre, very conspicuous on one of his fingers. - -"I never saw you wear a ring before, Edward," she cried. "Is that -Fanny's hair? I remember her promising to give you some. But I should -have thought her hair had been darker." - -Marianne spoke inconsiderately what she really felt; but when she saw -how much she had pained Edward, her own vexation at her want of -thought could not be surpassed by his. He coloured very deeply, and -giving a momentary glance at Elinor, replied, "Yes; it is my sister's -hair. The setting always casts a different shade on it, you know." - -Elinor had met his eye, and looked conscious likewise. That the hair -was her own, she instantaneously felt as well satisfied as Marianne; -the only difference in their conclusions was, that what Marianne -considered as a free gift from her sister, Elinor was conscious must -have been procured by some theft or contrivance unknown to herself. -She was not in a humour, however, to regard it as an affront, and -affecting to take no notice of what passed, by instantly talking of -something else, she internally resolved henceforward to catch every -opportunity of eyeing the hair and of satisfying herself, beyond all -doubt, that it was exactly the shade of her own. - -Edward's embarrassment lasted some time, and it ended in an absence of -mind still more settled. He was particularly grave the whole morning. -Marianne severely censured herself for what she had said; but her own -forgiveness might have been more speedy, had she known how little -offence it had given her sister. - -Before the middle of the day, they were visited by Sir John and Mrs. -Jennings, who, having heard of the arrival of a gentleman at the -cottage, came to take a survey of the guest. With the assistance of -his mother-in-law, Sir John was not long in discovering that the name -of Ferrars began with an F. and this prepared a future mine of -raillery against the devoted Elinor, which nothing but the newness of -their acquaintance with Edward could have prevented from being -immediately sprung. But, as it was, she only learned, from some very -significant looks, how far their penetration, founded on Margaret's -instructions, extended. - -Sir John never came to the Dashwoods without either inviting them to -dine at the park the next day, or to drink tea with them that evening. -On the present occasion, for the better entertainment of their -visitor, towards whose amusement he felt himself bound to contribute, -he wished to engage them for both. - -"You _must_ drink tea with us to night," said he, "for we shall be -quite alone; and tomorrow you must absolutely dine with us, for we -shall be a large party." - -Mrs. Jennings enforced the necessity. "And who knows but you may raise -a dance," said she. "And that will tempt _you_, Miss Marianne." - -"A dance!" cried Marianne. "Impossible! Who is to dance?" - -[Illustration: _Came to take a survey of the guest._] - -"Who? why yourselves, and the Careys, and Whitakers to be sure. -What! you thought nobody could dance because a certain person that -shall be nameless is gone!" - -"I wish with all my soul," cried Sir John, "that Willoughby were among -us again." - -This, and Marianne's blushing, gave new suspicions to Edward. "And who -is Willoughby?" said he, in a low voice, to Miss Dashwood, by whom he -was sitting. - -She gave him a brief reply. Marianne's countenance was more -communicative. Edward saw enough to comprehend, not only the meaning -of others, but such of Marianne's expressions as had puzzled him -before; and when their visitors left them, he went immediately round -her, and said, in a whisper, "I have been guessing. Shall I tell you -my guess?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Shall I tell you." - -"Certainly." - -"Well then; I guess that Mr. Willoughby hunts." - -Marianne was surprised and confused, yet she could not help smiling at -the quiet archness of his manner, and after a moment's silence, said-- - -"Oh, Edward! How can you?--But the time will come I hope--I am sure -you will like him." - -"I do not doubt it," replied he, rather astonished at her earnestness -and warmth; for had he not imagined it to be a joke for the good of -her acquaintance in general, founded only on a something or a nothing -between Mr. Willoughby and herself, he would not have ventured to -mention it. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -Edward remained a week at the cottage; he was earnestly pressed by -Mrs. Dashwood to stay longer; but, as if he were bent only on -self-mortification, he seemed resolved to be gone when his enjoyment -among his friends was at the height. His spirits, during the last two -or three days, though still very unequal, were greatly improved--he -grew more and more partial to the house and environs--never spoke of -going away without a sigh--declared his time to be wholly -disengaged--even doubted to what place he should go when he left -them--but still, go he must. Never had any week passed so quickly--he -could hardly believe it to be gone. He said so repeatedly; other -things he said too, which marked the turn of his feelings and gave the -lie to his actions. He had no pleasure at Norland; he detested being -in town; but either to Norland or London, he must go. He valued their -kindness beyond any thing, and his greatest happiness was in being -with them. Yet, he must leave them at the end of a week, in spite of -their wishes and his own, and without any restraint on his time. - -Elinor placed all that was astonishing in this way of acting to his -mother's account; and it was happy for her that he had a mother whose -character was so imperfectly known to her, as to be the general excuse -for every thing strange on the part of her son. Disappointed, however, -and vexed as she was, and sometimes displeased with his uncertain -behaviour to herself, she was very well disposed on the whole to -regard his actions with all the candid allowances and generous -qualifications, which had been rather more painfully extorted from -her, for Willoughby's service, by her mother. His want of spirits, of -openness, and of consistency, were most usually attributed to his want -of independence, and his better knowledge of Mrs. Ferrars's -disposition and designs. The shortness of his visit, the steadiness of -his purpose in leaving them, originated in the same fettered -inclination, the same inevitable necessity of temporizing with his -mother. The old well-established grievance of duty against will, -parent against child, was the cause of all. She would have been glad -to know when these difficulties were to cease, this opposition was to -yield, when Mrs. Ferrars would be reformed, and her son be at liberty -to be happy. But from such vain wishes she was forced to turn for -comfort to the renewal of her confidence in Edward's affection, to the -remembrance of every mark of regard in look or word which fell from -him while at Barton, and above all to that flattering proof of it -which he constantly wore round his finger. - -"I think, Edward," said Mrs. Dashwood, as they were at breakfast the -last morning, "you would be a happier man if you had any profession to -engage your time and give an interest to your plans and actions. Some -inconvenience to your friends, indeed, might result from it--you would -not be able to give them so much of your time. But (with a smile) you -would be materially benefited in one particular at least--you would -know where to go when you left them." - -"I do assure you," he replied, "that I have long thought on this -point, as you think now. It has been, and is, and probably will always -be a heavy misfortune to me, that I have had no necessary business to -engage me, no profession to give me employment, or afford me any thing -like independence. But unfortunately my own nicety, and the nicety of -my friends, have made me what I am, an idle, helpless being. We never -could agree in our choice of a profession. I always preferred the -church, as I still do. But that was not smart enough for my family. -They recommended the army. That was a great deal too smart for me. The -law was allowed to be genteel enough; many young men, who had chambers -in the Temple, made a very good appearance in the first circles, and -drove about town in very knowing gigs. But I had no inclination for -the law, even in this less abstruse study of it, which my family -approved. As for the navy, it had fashion on its side, but I was too -old when the subject was first started to enter it; and, at length, as -there was no necessity for my having any profession at all, as I might -be as dashing and expensive without a red coat on my back as with one, -idleness was pronounced on the whole to be most advantageous and -honourable, and a young man of eighteen is not in general so earnestly -bent on being busy as to resist the solicitations of his friends to do -nothing. I was therefore entered at Oxford and have been properly idle -ever since." - -"The consequence of which, I suppose, will be," said Mrs. Dashwood, -"since leisure has not promoted your own happiness, that your sons -will be brought up to as many pursuits, employments, professions, and -trades as Columella's." - -"They will be brought up," said he, in a serious accent, "to be as -unlike myself as is possible. In feeling, in action, in condition, in -every thing." - -"Come, come; this is all an effusion of immediate want of spirits, -Edward. You are in a melancholy humour, and fancy that any one unlike -yourself must be happy. But remember that the pain of parting from -friends will be felt by every body at times, whatever be their -education or state. Know your own happiness. You want nothing but -patience--or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope. Your -mother will secure to you, in time, that independence you are so -anxious for; it is her duty, and it will, it must ere long become her -happiness to prevent your whole youth from being wasted in discontent. -How much may not a few months do?" - -"I think," replied Edward, "that I may defy many months to produce any -good to me." - -This desponding turn of mind, though it could not be communicated to -Mrs. Dashwood, gave additional pain to them all in the parting, which -shortly took place, and left an uncomfortable impression on Elinor's -feelings especially, which required some trouble and time to subdue. -But as it was her determination to subdue it, and to prevent herself -from appearing to suffer more than what all her family suffered on his -going away, she did not adopt the method so judiciously employed by -Marianne, on a similar occasion, to augment and fix her sorrow, by -seeking silence, solitude and idleness. Their means were as different -as their objects, and equally suited to the advancement of each. - -Elinor sat down to her drawing-table as soon as he was out of the -house, busily employed herself the whole day, neither sought nor -avoided the mention of his name, appeared to interest herself almost -as much as ever in the general concerns of the family, and if, by this -conduct, she did not lessen her own grief, it was at least prevented -from unnecessary increase, and her mother and sisters were spared much -solicitude on her account. - -Such behaviour as this, so exactly the reverse of her own, appeared no -more meritorious to Marianne, than her own had seemed faulty to her. -The business of self-command she settled very easily;--with strong -affections it was impossible, with calm ones it could have no merit. -That her sister's affections _were_ calm, she dared not deny, though -she blushed to acknowledge it; and of the strength of her own, she -gave a very striking proof, by still loving and respecting that -sister, in spite of this mortifying conviction. - -Without shutting herself up from her family, or leaving the house in -determined solitude to avoid them, or lying awake the whole night to -indulge meditation, Elinor found every day afforded her leisure enough -to think of Edward, and of Edward's behaviour, in every possible -variety which the different state of her spirits at different times -could produce,--with tenderness, pity, approbation, censure, and -doubt. There were moments in abundance, when, if not by the absence of -her mother and sisters, at least by the nature of their employments, -conversation was forbidden among them, and every effect of solitude -was produced. Her mind was inevitably at liberty; her thoughts could -not be chained elsewhere; and the past and the future, on a subject so -interesting, must be before her, must force her attention, and engross -her memory, her reflection, and her fancy. - -From a reverie of this kind, as she sat at her drawing-table, she was -roused one morning, soon after Edward's leaving them, by the arrival -of company. She happened to be quite alone. The closing of the little -gate, at the entrance of the green court in front of the house, drew -her eyes to the window, and she saw a large party walking up to the -door. Amongst them were Sir John and Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, -but there were two others, a gentleman and lady, who were quite -unknown to her. She was sitting near the window, and as soon as Sir -John perceived her, he left the rest of the party to the ceremony of -knocking at the door, and stepping across the turf, obliged her to -open the casement to speak to him, though the space was so short -between the door and the window, as to make it hardly possible to -speak at one without being heard at the other. - -"Well," said he, "we have brought you some strangers. How do you like -them?" - -"Hush! they will hear you." - -"Never mind if they do. It is only the Palmers. Charlotte is very -pretty, I can tell you. You may see her if you look this way." - -As Elinor was certain of seeing her in a couple of minutes, without -taking that liberty, she begged to be excused. - -"Where is Marianne? Has she run away because we are come? I see her -instrument is open." - -"She is walking, I believe." - -They were now joined by Mrs. Jennings, who had not patience enough to -wait till the door was opened before she told _her_ story. She came -hallooing to the window, "How do you do, my dear? How does Mrs. -Dashwood do? And where are your sisters? What! all alone! you will be -glad of a little company to sit with you. I have brought my other son -and daughter to see you. Only think of their coming so suddenly! I -thought I heard a carriage last night, while we were drinking our tea, -but it never entered my head that it could be them. I thought of -nothing but whether it might not be Colonel Brandon come back again; -so I said to Sir John, I do think I hear a carriage; perhaps it is -Colonel Brandon come back again--" - -Elinor was obliged to turn from her, in the middle of her story, to -receive the rest of the party; Lady Middleton introduced the two -strangers; Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret came down stairs at the same -time, and they all sat down to look at one another, while Mrs. -Jennings continued her story as she walked through the passage into -the parlour, attended by Sir John. - -Mrs. Palmer was several years younger than Lady Middleton, and totally -unlike her in every respect. She was short and plump, had a very -pretty face, and the finest expression of good humour in it that could -possibly be. Her manners were by no means so elegant as her sister's, -but they were much more prepossessing. She came in with a smile, -smiled all the time of her visit, except when she laughed, and smiled -when she went away. Her husband was a grave looking young man of five -or six and twenty, with an air of more fashion and sense than his -wife, but of less willingness to please or be pleased. He entered the -room with a look of self-consequence, slightly bowed to the ladies, -without speaking a word, and, after briefly surveying them and their -apartments, took up a newspaper from the table, and continued to read -it as long as he stayed. - -Mrs. Palmer, on the contrary, who was strongly endowed by nature with -a turn for being uniformly civil and happy, was hardly seated before -her admiration of the parlour and every thing in it burst forth. - -"Well! what a delightful room this is! I never saw anything so -charming! Only think, Mamma, how it is improved since I was here last! -I always thought it such a sweet place, ma'am! (turning to Mrs. -Dashwood) but you have made it so charming! Only look, sister, how -delightful every thing is! How I should like such a house for myself! -Should not you, Mr. Palmer?" - -Mr. Palmer made her no answer, and did not even raise his eyes from -the newspaper. - -"Mr. Palmer does not hear me," said she, laughing; "he never does -sometimes. It is so ridiculous!" - -This was quite a new idea to Mrs. Dashwood; she had never been used to -find wit in the inattention of any one, and could not help looking -with surprise at them both. - -Mrs. Jennings, in the meantime, talked on as loud as she could, and -continued her account of their surprise, the evening before, on seeing -their friends, without ceasing till every thing was told. Mrs. Palmer -laughed heartily at the recollection of their astonishment, and every -body agreed, two or three times over, that it had been quite an -agreeable surprise. - -"You may believe how glad we all were to see them," added Mrs. -Jennings, leaning forward towards Elinor, and speaking in a low voice -as if she meant to be heard by no one else, though they were seated on -different sides of the room; "but, however, I can't help wishing they -had not travelled quite so fast, nor made such a long journey of it, -for they came all round by London upon account of some business, for -you know (nodding significantly and pointing to her daughter) it was -wrong in her situation. I wanted her to stay at home and rest this -morning, but she would come with us; she longed so much to see you -all!" - -Mrs. Palmer laughed, and said it would not do her any harm. - -"She expects to be confined in February," continued Mrs. Jennings. - -Lady Middleton could no longer endure such a conversation, and -therefore exerted herself to ask Mr. Palmer if there was any news in -the paper. - -"No, none at all," he replied, and read on. - -"Here comes Marianne," cried Sir John. "Now, Palmer, you shall see a -monstrous pretty girl." - -He immediately went into the passage, opened the front door, and -ushered her in himself. Mrs. Jennings asked her, as soon as she -appeared, if she had not been to Allenham; and Mrs. Palmer laughed so -heartily at the question, as to show she understood it. Mr. Palmer -looked up on her entering the room, stared at her some minutes, and -then returned to his newspaper. Mrs. Palmer's eye was now caught by -the drawings which hung round the room. She got up to examine them. - -[Illustration: "_I declare they are quite charming_."] - -"Oh! dear, how beautiful these are! Well! how delightful! Do but look, -mama, how sweet! I declare they are quite charming; I could look at -them for ever." And then sitting down again, she very soon forgot that -there were any such things in the room. - -When Lady Middleton rose to go away, Mr. Palmer rose also, laid down -the newspaper, stretched himself and looked at them all around. - -"My love, have you been asleep?" said his wife, laughing. - -He made her no answer; and only observed, after again examining the -room, that it was very low pitched, and that the ceiling was crooked. -He then made his bow, and departed with the rest. - -Sir John had been very urgent with them all to spend the next day at -the park. Mrs. Dashwood, who did not choose to dine with them oftener -than they dined at the cottage, absolutely refused on her own account; -her daughters might do as they pleased. But they had no curiosity to -see how Mr. and Mrs. Palmer ate their dinner, and no expectation of -pleasure from them in any other way. They attempted, therefore, -likewise, to excuse themselves; the weather was uncertain, and not -likely to be good. But Sir John would not be satisfied--the carriage -should be sent for them and they must come. Lady Middleton too, though -she did not press their mother, pressed them. Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. -Palmer joined their entreaties, all seemed equally anxious to avoid a -family party; and the young ladies were obliged to yield. - -"Why should they ask us?" said Marianne, as soon as they were gone. -"The rent of this cottage is said to be low; but we have it on very -hard terms, if we are to dine at the park whenever any one is staying -either with them, or with us." - -"They mean no less to be civil and kind to us now," said Elinor, "by -these frequent invitations, than by those which we received from them -a few weeks ago. The alteration is not in them, if their parties are -grown tedious and dull. We must look for the change elsewhere." - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -As the Miss Dashwoods entered the drawing-room of the park the next -day, at one door, Mrs. Palmer came running in at the other, looking as -good humoured and merry as before. She took them all most -affectionately by the hand, and expressed great delight in seeing them -again. - -"I am so glad to see you!" said she, seating herself between Elinor -and Marianne, "for it is so bad a day I was afraid you might not come, -which would be a shocking thing, as we go away again tomorrow. We must -go, for the Westons come to us next week you know. It was quite a -sudden thing our coming at all, and I knew nothing of it till the -carriage was coming to the door, and then Mr. Palmer asked me if I -would go with him to Barton. He is so droll! He never tells me any -thing! I am so sorry we cannot stay longer; however we shall meet -again in town very soon, I hope." - -They were obliged to put an end to such an expectation. - -"Not go to town!" cried Mrs. Palmer, with a laugh, "I shall be quite -disappointed if you do not. I could get the nicest house in world for -you, next door to ours, in Hanover-square. You must come, indeed. I am -sure I shall be very happy to chaperon you at any time till I am -confined, if Mrs. Dashwood should not like to go into public." - -They thanked her; but were obliged to resist all her entreaties. - -"Oh, my love," cried Mrs. Palmer to her husband, who just then entered -the room--"you must help me to persuade the Miss Dashwoods to go to -town this winter." - -Her love made no answer; and after slightly bowing to the ladies, -began complaining of the weather. - -"How horrid all this is!" said he. "Such weather makes every thing and -every body disgusting. Dullness is as much produced within doors as -without, by rain. It makes one detest all one's acquaintance. What the -devil does Sir John mean by not having a billiard room in his house? -How few people know what comfort is! Sir John is as stupid as the -weather." - -The rest of the company soon dropt in. - -"I am afraid, Miss Marianne," said Sir John, "you have not been able -to take your usual walk to Allenham today." - -Marianne looked very grave and said nothing. - -"Oh, don't be so sly before us," said Mrs. Palmer; "for we know all -about it, I assure you; and I admire your taste very much, for I think -he is extremely handsome. We do not live a great way from him in the -country, you know. Not above ten miles, I dare say." - -"Much nearer thirty," said her husband. - -"Ah, well! there is not much difference. I never was at his house; but -they say it is a sweet pretty place." - -"As vile a spot as I ever saw in my life," said Mr. Palmer. - -Marianne remained perfectly silent, though her countenance betrayed -her interest in what was said. - -"Is it very ugly?" continued Mrs. Palmer--"then it must be some other -place that is so pretty I suppose." - -When they were seated in the dining room, Sir John observed with -regret that they were only eight all together. - -"My dear," said he to his lady, "it is very provoking that we should -be so few. Why did not you ask the Gilberts to come to us today?" - -"Did not I tell you, Sir John, when you spoke to me about it before, -that it could not be done? They dined with us last." - -"You and I, Sir John," said Mrs. Jennings, "should not stand upon such -ceremony." - -"Then you would be very ill-bred," cried Mr. Palmer. - -"My love you contradict every body," said his wife with her usual -laugh. "Do you know that you are quite rude?" - -"I did not know I contradicted any body in calling your mother -ill-bred." - -"Ay, you may abuse me as you please," said the good-natured old lady, -"you have taken Charlotte off my hands, and cannot give her back -again. So there I have the whip hand of you." - -Charlotte laughed heartily to think that her husband could not get rid -of her; and exultingly said, she did not care how cross he was to her, -as they must live together. It was impossible for any one to be more -thoroughly good-natured, or more determined to be happy than Mrs. -Palmer. The studied indifference, insolence, and discontent of her -husband gave her no pain; and when he scolded or abused her, she was -highly diverted. - -"Mr. Palmer is so droll!" said she, in a whisper, to Elinor. "He is -always out of humour." - -Elinor was not inclined, after a little observation, to give him -credit for being so genuinely and unaffectedly ill-natured or ill-bred -as he wished to appear. His temper might perhaps be a little soured by -finding, like many others of his sex, that through some unaccountable -bias in favour of beauty, he was the husband of a very silly -woman,--but she knew that this kind of blunder was too common for any -sensible man to be lastingly hurt by it. It was rather a wish of -distinction, she believed, which produced his contemptuous treatment -of every body, and his general abuse of every thing before him. It was -the desire of appearing superior to other people. The motive was too -common to be wondered at; but the means, however they might succeed by -establishing his superiority in ill-breeding, were not likely to -attach any one to him except his wife. - -"Oh, my dear Miss Dashwood," said Mrs. Palmer soon afterwards, "I have -got such a favour to ask of you and your sister. Will you come and -spend some time at Cleveland this Christmas? Now, pray do,--and come -while the Westons are with us. You cannot think how happy I shall be! -It will be quite delightful!--My love," applying to her husband, -"don't you long to have the Miss Dashwoods come to Cleveland?" - -"Certainly," he replied, with a sneer--"I came into Devonshire with no -other view." - -"There now,"--said his lady, "you see Mr. Palmer expects you; so you -cannot refuse to come." - -They both eagerly and resolutely declined her invitation. - -"But indeed you must and shall come. I am sure you will like it of all -things. The Westons will be with us, and it will be quite delightful. -You cannot think what a sweet place Cleveland is; and we are so gay -now, for Mr. Palmer is always going about the country canvassing -against the election; and so many people came to dine with us that I -never saw before, it is quite charming! But, poor fellow! it is very -fatiguing to him! for he is forced to make every body like him." - -Elinor could hardly keep her countenance as she assented to the -hardship of such an obligation. - -"How charming it will be," said Charlotte, "when he is in -Parliament!--won't it? How I shall laugh! It will be so ridiculous to -see all his letters directed to him with an M.P. But do you know, he -says, he will never frank for me? He declares he won't. Don't you, Mr. -Palmer?" - -Mr. Palmer took no notice of her. - -"He cannot bear writing, you know," she continued; "he says it is -quite shocking." - -"No," said he, "I never said any thing so irrational. Don't palm all -your abuses of languages upon me." - -"There now; you see how droll he is. This is always the way with him! -Sometimes he won't speak to me for half a day together, and then he -comes out with something so droll--all about any thing in the world." - -She surprised Elinor very much as they returned into the drawing-room, -by asking her whether she did not like Mr. Palmer excessively. - -"Certainly," said Elinor; "he seems very agreeable." - -"Well--I am so glad you do. I thought you would, he is so pleasant; -and Mr. Palmer is excessively pleased with you and your sisters I can -tell you, and you can't think how disappointed he will be if you don't -come to Cleveland. I can't imagine why you should object to it." - -Elinor was again obliged to decline her invitation; and by changing -the subject, put a stop to her entreaties. She thought it probable -that as they lived in the same county, Mrs. Palmer might be able to -give some more particular account of Willoughby's general character, -than could be gathered from the Middletons' partial acquaintance with -him; and she was eager to gain from any one, such a confirmation of -his merits as might remove the possibility of fear from Marianne. She -began by inquiring if they saw much of Mr. Willoughby at Cleveland, -and whether they were intimately acquainted with him. - -"Oh dear, yes; I know him extremely well," replied Mrs. Palmer;--"Not -that I ever spoke to him, indeed; but I have seen him for ever in -town. Somehow or other I never happened to be staying at Barton while -he was at Allenham. Mama saw him here once before, but I was with my -uncle at Weymouth. However, I dare say we should have seen a great -deal of him in Somersetshire, if it had not happened very unluckily -that we should never have been in the country together. He is very -little at Combe, I believe; but if he were ever so much there, I do -not think Mr. Palmer would visit him, for he is in the opposition, you -know, and besides it is such a way off. I know why you inquire about -him, very well; your sister is to marry him. I am monstrous glad of -it, for then I shall have her for a neighbour you know." - -"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "you know much more of the matter than -I do, if you have any reason to expect such a match." - -"Don't pretend to deny it, because you know it is what every body -talks of. I assure you I heard of it in my way through town." - -"My dear Mrs. Palmer!" - -"Upon my honour I did. I met Colonel Brandon Monday morning in -Bond-street, just before we left town, and he told me of it directly." - -"You surprise me very much. Colonel Brandon tell you of it! Surely you -must be mistaken. To give such intelligence to a person who could not -be interested in it, even if it were true, is not what I should expect -Colonel Brandon to do." - -"But I do assure you it was so, for all that, and I will tell you how -it happened. When we met him, he turned back and walked with us; and -so we began talking of my brother and sister, and one thing and -another, and I said to him, 'So, Colonel, there is a new family come -to Barton cottage, I hear, and mama sends me word they are very -pretty, and that one of them is going to be married to Mr. Willoughby -of Combe Magna. Is it true, pray? for of course you must know, as you -have been in Devonshire so lately.'" - -"And what did the Colonel say?" - -"Oh--he did not say much; but he looked as if he knew it to be true, -so from that moment I set it down as certain. It will be quite -delightful, I declare! When is it to take place?" - -"Mr. Brandon was very well I hope?" - -"Oh! yes, quite well; and so full of your praises, he did nothing but -say fine things of you." - -"I am flattered by his commendation. He seems an excellent man; and I -think him uncommonly pleasing." - -"So do I. He is such a charming man, that it is quite a pity he should -be so grave and so dull. Mamma says _he_ was in love with your sister -too. I assure you it was a great compliment if he was, for he hardly -ever falls in love with any body." - -"Is Mr. Willoughby much known in your part of Somersetshire?" said -Elinor. - -"Oh! yes, extremely well; that is, I do not believe many people are -acquainted with him, because Combe Magna is so far off; but they all -think him extremely agreeable I assure you. Nobody is more liked than -Mr. Willoughby wherever he goes, and so you may tell your sister. She -is a monstrous lucky girl to get him, upon my honour; not but that he -is much more lucky in getting her, because she is so very handsome and -agreeable, that nothing can be good enough for her. However, I don't -think her hardly at all handsomer than you, I assure you; for I think -you both excessively pretty, and so does Mr. Palmer too I am sure, -though we could not get him to own it last night." - -Mrs. Palmer's information respecting Willoughby was not very material; -but any testimony in his favour, however small, was pleasing to her. - -"I am so glad we are got acquainted at last," continued Charlotte. -"And now I hope we shall always be great friends. You can't think how -much I longed to see you! It is so delightful that you should live at -the cottage! Nothing can be like it, to be sure! And I am so glad your -sister is going to be well married! I hope you will be a great deal at -Combe Magna. It is a sweet place, by all accounts." - -"You have been long acquainted with Colonel Brandon, have not you?" - -"Yes, a great while; ever since my sister married. He was a particular -friend of Sir John's. I believe," she added in a low voice, "he would -have been very glad to have had me, if he could. Sir John and Lady -Middleton wished it very much. But mama did not think the match good -enough for me, otherwise Sir John would have mentioned it to the -Colonel, and we should have been married immediately." - -"Did not Colonel Brandon know of Sir John's proposal to your mother -before it was made? Had he never owned his affection to yourself?" - -"Oh, no; but if mama had not objected to it, I dare say he would have -liked it of all things. He had not seen me then above twice, for it -was before I left school. However, I am much happier as I am. Mr. -Palmer is the kind of man I like." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -The Palmers returned to Cleveland the next day, and the two families -at Barton were again left to entertain each other. But this did not -last long; Elinor had hardly got their last visitors out of her head, -had hardly done wondering at Charlotte's being so happy without a -cause, at Mr. Palmer's acting so simply, with good abilities, and at -the strange unsuitableness which often existed between husband and -wife, before Sir John's and Mrs. Jennings's active zeal in the cause -of society, procured her some other new acquaintance to see and -observe. - -In a morning's excursion to Exeter, they had met with two young -ladies, whom Mrs. Jennings had the satisfaction of discovering to be -her relations, and this was enough for Sir John to invite them -directly to the park, as soon as their present engagements at Exeter -were over. Their engagements at Exeter instantly gave way before such -an invitation, and Lady Middleton was thrown into no little alarm on -the return of Sir John, by hearing that she was very soon to receive a -visit from two girls whom she had never seen in her life, and of whose -elegance--whose tolerable gentility even--she could have no proof; for -the assurances of her husband and mother on that subject went for -nothing at all. Their being her relations too made it so much the -worse; and Mrs. Jennings's attempts at consolation were therefore -unfortunately founded, when she advised her daughter not to care about -their being so fashionable; because they were all cousins and must put -up with one another. As it was impossible, however, now to prevent -their coming, Lady Middleton resigned herself to the idea of it, with -all the philosophy of a well-bred woman, contenting herself with -merely giving her husband a gentle reprimand on the subject five or -six times every day. - -The young ladies arrived: their appearance was by no means ungenteel -or unfashionable. Their dress was very smart, their manners very -civil, they were delighted with the house, and in raptures with the -furniture, and they happened to be so doatingly fond of children that -Lady Middleton's good opinion was engaged in their favour before they -had been an hour at the Park. She declared them to be very agreeable -girls indeed, which for her ladyship was enthusiastic admiration. Sir -John's confidence in his own judgment rose with this animated praise, -and he set off directly for the cottage to tell the Miss Dashwoods of -the Miss Steeles' arrival, and to assure them of their being the -sweetest girls in the world. From such commendation as this, however, -there was not much to be learned; Elinor well knew that the sweetest -girls in the world were to be met with in every part of England, under -every possible variation of form, face, temper and understanding. Sir -John wanted the whole family to walk to the Park directly and look at -his guests. Benevolent, philanthropic man! It was painful to him even -to keep a third cousin to himself. - -"Do come now," said he--"pray come--you must come--I declare you shall -come--You can't think how you will like them. Lucy is monstrous -pretty, and so good humoured and agreeable! The children are all -hanging about her already, as if she was an old acquaintance. And they -both long to see you of all things, for they have heard at Exeter that -you are the most beautiful creatures in the world; and I have told -them it is all very true, and a great deal more. You will be delighted -with them I am sure. They have brought the whole coach full of -playthings for the children. How can you be so cross as not to come? -Why they are your cousins, you know, after a fashion. _You_ are my -cousins, and they are my wife's, so you must be related." - -But Sir John could not prevail. He could only obtain a promise of -their calling at the Park within a day or two, and then left them in -amazement at their indifference, to walk home and boast anew of their -attractions to the Miss Steeles, as he had been already boasting of -the Miss Steeles to them. - -When their promised visit to the Park and consequent introduction to -these young ladies took place, they found in the appearance of the -eldest, who was nearly thirty, with a very plain and not a sensible -face, nothing to admire; but in the other, who was not more than two -or three and twenty, they acknowledged considerable beauty; her -features were pretty, and she had a sharp quick eye, and a smartness -of air, which though it did not give actual elegance or grace, gave -distinction to her person. Their manners were particularly civil, and -Elinor soon allowed them credit for some kind of sense, when she saw -with what constant and judicious attention they were making themselves -agreeable to Lady Middleton. With her children they were in continual -raptures, extolling their beauty, courting their notice, and humouring -their whims; and such of their time as could be spared from the -importunate demands which this politeness made on it, was spent in -admiration of whatever her ladyship was doing, if she happened to be -doing any thing, or in taking patterns of some elegant new dress, in -which her appearance the day before had thrown them into unceasing -delight. Fortunately for those who pay their court through such -foibles, a fond mother, though, in pursuit of praise for her children, -the most rapacious of human beings, is likewise the most credulous; -her demands are exorbitant; but she will swallow any thing; and the -excessive affection and endurance of the Miss Steeles towards her -offspring were viewed therefore by Lady Middleton without the smallest -surprise or distrust. She saw with maternal complacency all the -impertinent encroachments and mischievous tricks to which her cousins -submitted. She saw their sashes untied, their hair pulled about their -ears, their work-bags searched, and their knives and scissors stolen -away, and felt no doubt of its being a reciprocal enjoyment. It -suggested no other surprise than that Elinor and Marianne should sit -so composedly by, without claiming a share in what was passing. - -"John is in such spirits today!" said she, on his taking Miss Steele's -pocket handkerchief, and throwing it out of window--"He is full of -monkey tricks." - -And soon afterwards, on the second boy's violently pinching one of the -same lady's fingers, she fondly observed, "How playful William is!" - -[Illustration: _Mischievous tricks._] - -"And here is my sweet little Annamaria," she added, tenderly caressing -a little girl of three years old, who had not made a noise for the -last two minutes; "And she is always so gentle and quiet--Never was -there such a quiet little thing!" - -But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces, a pin in her ladyship's -head dress slightly scratching the child's neck, produced from this -pattern of gentleness such violent screams, as could hardly be outdone -by any creature professedly noisy. The mother's consternation was -excessive; but it could not surpass the alarm of the Miss Steeles, and -every thing was done by all three, in so critical an emergency, which -affection could suggest as likely to assuage the agonies of the little -sufferer. She was seated in her mother's lap, covered with kisses, her -wound bathed with lavender-water, by one of the Miss Steeles, who was -on her knees to attend her, and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by -the other. With such a reward for her tears, the child was too wise to -cease crying. She still screamed and sobbed lustily, kicked her two -brothers for offering to touch her, and all their united soothings -were ineffectual till Lady Middleton luckily remembering that in a -scene of similar distress last week, some apricot marmalade had been -successfully applied for a bruised temple, the same remedy was eagerly -proposed for this unfortunate scratch, and a slight intermission of -screams in the young lady on hearing it, gave them reason to hope that -it would not be rejected. She was carried out of the room therefore in -her mother's arms, in quest of this medicine, and as the two boys -chose to follow, though earnestly entreated by their mother to stay -behind, the four young ladies were left in a quietness which the room -had not known for many hours. - -"Poor little creatures!" said Miss Steele, as soon as they were gone. -"It might have been a very sad accident." - -"Yet I hardly know how," cried Marianne, "unless it had been under -totally different circumstances. But this is the usual way of -heightening alarm, where there is nothing to be alarmed at in -reality." - -"What a sweet woman Lady Middleton is!" said Lucy Steele. - -Marianne was silent; it was impossible for her to say what she did not -feel, however trivial the occasion; and upon Elinor therefore the -whole task of telling lies when politeness required it, always fell. -She did her best when thus called on, by speaking of Lady Middleton -with more warmth than she felt, though with far less than Miss Lucy. - -"And Sir John too," cried the elder sister, "what a charming man he -is!" - -Here too, Miss Dashwood's commendation, being only simple and just, -came in without any éclat. She merely observed that he was perfectly -good humoured and friendly. - -"And what a charming little family they have! I never saw such fine -children in my life. I declare I quite doat upon them already, and -indeed I am always distractedly fond of children." - -"I should guess so," said Elinor, with a smile, "from what I have -witnessed this morning." - -"I have a notion," said Lucy, "you think the little Middletons rather -too much indulged; perhaps they may be the outside of enough; but it -is so natural in Lady Middleton; and for my part, I love to see -children full of life and spirits; I cannot bear them if they are tame -and quiet." - -"I confess," replied Elinor, "that while I am at Barton Park, I never -think of tame and quiet children with any abhorrence." - -A short pause succeeded this speech, which was first broken by Miss -Steele, who seemed very much disposed for conversation, and who now -said rather abruptly, "And how do you like Devonshire, Miss Dashwood? -I suppose you were very sorry to leave Sussex." - -In some surprise at the familiarity of this question, or at least of -the manner in which it was spoken, Elinor replied that she was. - -"Norland is a prodigious beautiful place, is not it?" added Miss -Steele. - -"We have heard Sir John admire it excessively," said Lucy, who seemed -to think some apology necessary for the freedom of her sister. - -"I think every one _must_ admire it," replied Elinor, "who ever saw -the place; though it is not to be supposed that any one can estimate -its beauties as we do." - -"And had you a great many smart beaux there? I suppose you have not so -many in this part of the world; for my part, I think they are a vast -addition always." - -"But why should you think," said Lucy, looking ashamed of her sister, -"that there are not as many genteel young men in Devonshire as -Sussex?" - -"Nay, my dear, I'm sure I don't pretend to say that there an't. I'm -sure there's a vast many smart beaux in Exeter; but you know, how -could I tell what smart beaux there might be about Norland; and I was -only afraid the Miss Dashwoods might find it dull at Barton, if they -had not so many as they used to have. But perhaps you young ladies may -not care about the beaux, and had as lief be without them as with -them. For my part, I think they are vastly agreeable, provided they -dress smart and behave civil. But I can't bear to see them dirty and -nasty. Now there's Mr. Rose at Exeter, a prodigious smart young man, -quite a beau, clerk to Mr. Simpson, you know, and yet if you do but -meet him of a morning, he is not fit to be seen. I suppose your -brother was quite a beau, Miss Dashwood, before he married, as he was -so rich?" - -"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "I cannot tell you, for I do not -perfectly comprehend the meaning of the word. But this I can say, that -if he ever was a beau before he married, he is one still for there is -not the smallest alteration in him." - -"Oh! dear! one never thinks of married men's being beaux--they have -something else to do." - -"Lord! Anne," cried her sister, "you can talk of nothing but -beaux;--you will make Miss Dashwood believe you think of nothing -else." And then to turn the discourse, she began admiring the house -and the furniture. - -This specimen of the Miss Steeles was enough. The vulgar freedom and -folly of the eldest left her no recommendation, and as Elinor was not -blinded by the beauty, or the shrewd look of the youngest, to her want -of real elegance and artlessness, she left the house without any wish -of knowing them better. - -Not so the Miss Steeles. They came from Exeter, well provided with -admiration for the use of Sir John Middleton, his family, and all his -relations, and no niggardly proportion was now dealt out to his fair -cousins, whom they declared to be the most beautiful, elegant, -accomplished, and agreeable girls they had ever beheld, and with whom -they were particularly anxious to be better acquainted. And to be -better acquainted therefore, Elinor soon found was their inevitable -lot, for as Sir John was entirely on the side of the Miss Steeles, -their party would be too strong for opposition, and that kind of -intimacy must be submitted to, which consists of sitting an hour or -two together in the same room almost every day. Sir John could do no -more; but he did not know that any more was required: to be together -was, in his opinion, to be intimate, and while his continual schemes -for their meeting were effectual, he had not a doubt of their being -established friends. - -To do him justice, he did every thing in his power to promote their -unreserve, by making the Miss Steeles acquainted with whatever he knew -or supposed of his cousins' situations in the most delicate -particulars,--and Elinor had not seen them more than twice, before the -eldest of them wished her joy on her sister's having been so lucky as -to make a conquest of a very smart beau since she came to Barton. - -"'Twill be a fine thing to have her married so young to be sure," said -she, "and I hear he is quite a beau, and prodigious handsome. And I -hope you may have as good luck yourself soon,--but perhaps you may -have a friend in the corner already." - -Elinor could not suppose that Sir John would be more nice in -proclaiming his suspicions of her regard for Edward, than he had been -with respect to Marianne; indeed it was rather his favourite joke of -the two, as being somewhat newer and more conjectural; and since -Edward's visit, they had never dined together without his drinking to -her best affections with so much significancy and so many nods and -winks, as to excite general attention. The letter F had been likewise -invariably brought forward, and found productive of such countless -jokes, that its character as the wittiest letter in the alphabet had -been long established with Elinor. - -The Miss Steeles, as she expected, had now all the benefit of these -jokes, and in the eldest of them they raised a curiosity to know the -name of the gentleman alluded to, which, though often impertinently -expressed, was perfectly of a piece with her general inquisitiveness -into the concerns of their family. But Sir John did not sport long -with the curiosity which he delighted to raise, for he had at least as -much pleasure in telling the name, as Miss Steele had in hearing it. - -"His name is Ferrars," said he, in a very audible whisper; "but pray -do not tell it, for it's a great secret." - -[Illustration: _Drinking to her best affections._] - -"Ferrars!" repeated Miss Steele; "Mr. Ferrars is the happy man, is he? -What! your sister-in-law's brother, Miss Dashwood? a very agreeable -young man to be sure; I know him very well." - -"How can you say so, Anne?" cried Lucy, who generally made an -amendment to all her sister's assertions. "Though we have seen him -once or twice at my uncle's, it is rather too much to pretend to know -him very well." - -Elinor heard all this with attention and surprise. "And who was this -uncle? Where did he live? How came they acquainted?" She wished very -much to have the subject continued, though she did not choose to join -in it herself; but nothing more of it was said, and for the first time -in her life, she thought Mrs. Jennings deficient either in curiosity -after petty information, or in a disposition to communicate it. The -manner in which Miss Steele had spoken of Edward, increased her -curiosity; for it struck her as being rather ill-natured, and -suggested the suspicion of that lady's knowing, or fancying herself to -know something to his disadvantage. But her curiosity was unavailing, -for no farther notice was taken of Mr. Ferrars's name by Miss Steele -when alluded to, or even openly mentioned by Sir John. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -Marianne, who had never much toleration for any thing like -impertinence, vulgarity, inferiority of parts, or even difference of -taste from herself, was at this time particularly ill-disposed, from -the state of her spirits, to be pleased with the Miss Steeles, or to -encourage their advances; and to the invariable coldness of her -behaviour towards them, which checked every endeavour at intimacy on -their side, Elinor principally attributed that preference of herself -which soon became evident in the manners of both, but especially of -Lucy, who missed no opportunity of engaging her in conversation, or of -striving to improve their acquaintance by an easy and frank -communication of her sentiments. - -Lucy was naturally clever; her remarks were often just and amusing; -and as a companion for half an hour Elinor frequently found her -agreeable; but her powers had received no aid from education: she was -ignorant and illiterate; and her deficiency of all mental improvement, -her want of information in the most common particulars, could not be -concealed from Miss Dashwood, in spite of her constant endeavour to -appear to advantage. Elinor saw, and pitied her for, the neglect of -abilities which education might have rendered so respectable; but she -saw, with less tenderness of feeling, the thorough want of delicacy, -of rectitude, and integrity of mind, which her attentions, her -assiduities, her flatteries at the Park betrayed; and she could have -no lasting satisfaction in the company of a person who joined -insincerity with ignorance; whose want of instruction prevented their -meeting in conversation on terms of equality, and whose conduct toward -others made every show of attention and deference towards herself -perfectly valueless. - -"You will think my question an odd one, I dare say," said Lucy to her -one day, as they were walking together from the park to the -cottage--"but pray, are you personally acquainted with your -sister-in-law's mother, Mrs. Ferrars?" - -Elinor _did_ think the question a very odd one, and her countenance -expressed it, as she answered that she had never seen Mrs. Ferrars. - -"Indeed!" replied Lucy; "I wonder at that, for I thought you must have -seen her at Norland sometimes. Then, perhaps, you cannot tell me what -sort of a woman she is?" - -"No," returned Elinor, cautious of giving her real opinion of Edward's -mother, and not very desirous of satisfying what seemed impertinent -curiosity; "I know nothing of her." - -"I am sure you think me very strange, for enquiring about her in such -a way," said Lucy, eyeing Elinor attentively as she spoke; "but -perhaps there may be reasons--I wish I might venture; but however I -hope you will do me the justice of believing that I do not mean to be -impertinent." - -Elinor made her a civil reply, and they walked on for a few minutes in -silence. It was broken by Lucy, who renewed the subject again by -saying, with some hesitation-- - -"I cannot bear to have you think me impertinently curious. I am sure I -would rather do any thing in the world than be thought so by a person -whose good opinion is so well worth having as yours. And I am sure I -should not have the smallest fear of trusting _you_; indeed, I should -be very glad of your advice how to manage in such and uncomfortable -situation as I am; but, however, there is no occasion to trouble -_you._ I am sorry you do not happen to know Mrs. Ferrars." - -"I am sorry I do _not_," said Elinor, in great astonishment, "if it -could be of any use to _you_ to know my opinion of her. But really I -never understood that you were at all connected with that family, and -therefore I am a little surprised, I confess, at so serious an inquiry -into her character." - -"I dare say you are, and I am sure I do not at all wonder at it. But -if I dared tell you all, you would not be so much surprised. Mrs. -Ferrars is certainly nothing to me at present--but the time _may_ -come--how soon it will come must depend upon herself--when we may be -very intimately connected." - -She looked down as she said this, amiably bashful, with only one side -glance at her companion to observe its effect on her. - -"Good heavens!" cried Elinor, "what do you mean? Are you acquainted -with Mr. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?" And she did not feel much -delighted with the idea of such a sister-in-law. - -"No," replied Lucy, "not to Mr. _Robert_ Ferrars--I never saw him in -my life; but," fixing her eyes upon Elinor, "to his eldest brother." - -What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment, that would have been as -painful as it was strong, had not an immediate disbelief of the -assertion attended it. She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement, -unable to divine the reason or object of such a declaration; and -though her complexion varied, she stood firm in incredulity, and felt -in no danger of an hysterical fit, or a swoon. - -"You may well be surprised," continued Lucy; "for to be sure you could -have had no idea of it before; for I dare say he never dropped the -smallest hint of it to you or any of your family; because it was -always meant to be a great secret, and I am sure has been faithfully -kept so by me to this hour. Not a soul of all my relations know of it -but Anne, and I never should have mentioned it to you, if I had not -felt the greatest dependence in the world upon your secrecy; and I -really thought my behaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. -Ferrars must seem so odd, that it ought to be explained. And I do not -think Mr. Ferrars can be displeased, when he knows I have trusted -you, because I know he has the highest opinion in the world of all -your family, and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods -quite as his own sisters."--She paused. - -[Illustration: _Amiably bashful._] - -Elinor for a few moments remained silent. Her astonishment at what she -heard was at first too great for words; but at length forcing herself -to speak, and to speak cautiously, she said, with calmness of manner, -which tolerably well concealed her surprise and solicitude--"May I ask -if your engagement is of long standing?" - -"We have been engaged these four years." - -"Four years!" - -"Yes." - -Elinor, though greatly shocked, still felt unable to believe it. - -"I did not know," said she, "that you were even acquainted till the -other day." - -"Our acquaintance, however, is of many years date. He was under my -uncle's care, you know, a considerable while." - -"Your uncle!" - -"Yes; Mr. Pratt. Did you never hear him talk of Mr. Pratt?" - -"I think I have," replied Elinor, with an exertion of spirits, which -increased with her increase of emotion. - -"He was four years with my uncle, who lives at Longstaple, near -Plymouth. It was there our acquaintance begun, for my sister and me -was often staying with my uncle, and it was there our engagement was -formed, though not till a year after he had quitted as a pupil; but he -was almost always with us afterwards. I was very unwilling to enter -into it, as you may imagine, without the knowledge and approbation of -his mother; but I was too young, and loved him too well, to be so -prudent as I ought to have been. Though you do not know him so well as -me, Miss Dashwood, you must have seen enough of him to be sensible he -is very capable of making a woman sincerely attached to him." - -"Certainly," answered Elinor, without knowing what she said; but after -a moment's reflection, she added, with revived security of Edward's -honour and love, and her companion's falsehood--"Engaged to Mr. Edward -Ferrars!--I confess myself so totally surprised at what you tell me, -that really--I beg your pardon; but surely there must be some mistake -of person or name. We cannot mean the same Mr. Ferrars." - -"We can mean no other," cried Lucy, smiling. "Mr. Edward Ferrars, the -eldest son of Mrs. Ferrars, of Park Street, and brother of your -sister-in-law, Mrs. John Dashwood, is the person I mean; you must -allow that I am not likely to be deceived as to the name of the man on -who all my happiness depends." - -"It is strange," replied Elinor, in a most painful perplexity, "that I -should never have heard him even mention your name." - -"No; considering our situation, it was not strange. Our first care has -been to keep the matter secret. You knew nothing of me, or my family, -and, therefore, there could be no _occasion_ for ever mentioning my -name to you; and, as he was always particularly afraid of his sister's -suspecting any thing, _that_ was reason enough for his not mentioning -it." - -She was silent. Elinor's security sunk; but her self-command did not -sink with it. - -"Four years you have been engaged," said she with a firm voice. - -"Yes; and heaven knows how much longer we may have to wait. Poor -Edward! It puts him quite out of heart." Then taking a small miniature -from her pocket, she added, "To prevent the possibility of mistake, be -so good as to look at this face. It does not do him justice, to be -sure, but yet I think you cannot be deceived as to the person it was -drew for. I have had it above these three years." - -She put it into her hands as she spoke; and when Elinor saw the -painting, whatever other doubts her fear of a too hasty decision, or -her wish of detecting falsehood might suffer to linger in her mind, -she could have none of its being Edward's face. She returned it almost -instantly, acknowledging the likeness. - -"I have never been able," continued Lucy, "to give him my picture in -return, which I am very much vexed at, for he has been always so -anxious to get it! But I am determined to set for it the very first -opportunity." - -"You are quite in the right," replied Elinor calmly. They then -proceeded a few paces in silence. Lucy spoke first. - -"I am sure," said she, "I have no doubt in the world of your -faithfully keeping this secret, because you must know of what -importance it is to us, not to have it reach his mother; for she -would never approve of it, I dare say. I shall have no fortune, and I -fancy she is an exceeding proud woman." - -"I certainly did not seek your confidence," said Elinor; "but you do -me no more than justice in imagining that I may be depended on. Your -secret is safe with me; but pardon me if I express some surprise at so -unnecessary a communication. You must at least have felt that my being -acquainted with it could not add to its safety." - -As she said this, she looked earnestly at Lucy, hoping to discover -something in her countenance; perhaps the falsehood of the greatest -part of what she had been saying; but Lucy's countenance suffered no -change. - -"I was afraid you would think I was taking a great liberty with you," -said she, "in telling you all this. I have not known you long to be -sure, personally at least, but I have known you and all your family by -description a great while; and as soon as I saw you, I felt almost as -if you was an old acquaintance. Besides in the present case, I really -thought some explanation was due to you after my making such -particular inquiries about Edward's mother; and I am so unfortunate, -that I have not a creature whose advice I can ask. Anne is the only -person that knows of it, and she has no judgment at all; indeed, she -does me a great deal more harm than good, for I am in constant fear of -her betraying me. She does not know how to hold her tongue, as you -must perceive, and I am sure I was in the greatest fright in the world -t'other day, when Edward's name was mentioned by Sir John, lest she -should out with it all. You can't think how much I go through in my -mind from it altogether. I only wonder that I am alive after what I -have suffered for Edward's sake these last four years. Every thing in -such suspense and uncertainty; and seeing him so seldom--we can hardly -meet above twice a-year. I am sure I wonder my heart is not quite -broke." - -Here she took out her handkerchief; but Elinor did not feel very -compassionate. - -"Sometimes," continued Lucy, after wiping her eyes, "I think whether -it would not be better for us both to break off the matter entirely." -As she said this, she looked directly at her companion. "But then at -other times I have not resolution enough for it. I cannot bear the -thoughts of making him so miserable, as I know the very mention of -such a thing would do. And on my own account too--so dear as he is to -me--I don't think I could be equal to it. What would you advise me to -do in such a case, Miss Dashwood? What would you do yourself?" - -"Pardon me," replied Elinor, startled by the question; "but I can give -you no advice under such circumstances. Your own judgment must direct -you." - -"To be sure," continued Lucy, after a few minutes silence on both -sides, "his mother must provide for him sometime or other; but poor -Edward is so cast down by it! Did you not think him dreadful -low-spirited when he was at Barton? He was so miserable when he left -us at Longstaple, to go to you, that I was afraid you would think him -quite ill." - -"Did he come from your uncle's, then, when he visited us?" - -"Oh, yes; he had been staying a fortnight with us. Did you think he -came directly from town?" - -"No," replied Elinor, most feelingly sensible of every fresh -circumstance in favour of Lucy's veracity; "I remember he told us, -that he had been staying a fortnight with some friends near Plymouth." -She remembered too, her own surprise at the time, at his mentioning -nothing farther of those friends, at his total silence with respect -even to their names. - -"Did not you think him sadly out of spirits?" repeated Lucy. - -"We did, indeed, particularly so when he first arrived." - -"I begged him to exert himself for fear you should suspect what was -the matter; but it made him so melancholy, not being able to stay more -than a fortnight with us, and seeing me so much affected. Poor -fellow!--I am afraid it is just the same with him now; for he writes -in wretched spirits. I heard from him just before I left Exeter;" -taking a letter from her pocket and carelessly showing the direction -to Elinor. "You know his hand, I dare say, a charming one it is; but -that is not written so well as usual. He was tired, I dare say, for he -had just filled the sheet to me as full as possible." - -Elinor saw that it _was_ his hand, and she could doubt no longer. This -picture, she had allowed herself to believe, might have been -accidentally obtained; it might not have been Edward's gift; but a -correspondence between them by letter, could subsist only under a -positive engagement, could be authorised by nothing else; for a few -moments, she was almost overcome--her heart sunk within her, and she -could hardly stand; but exertion was indispensably necessary; and she -struggled so resolutely against the oppression of her feelings, that -her success was speedy, and for the time complete. - -"Writing to each other," said Lucy, returning the letter into her -pocket, "is the only comfort we have in such long separations. Yes, I -have one other comfort in his picture, but poor Edward has not even -_that._ If he had but my picture, he says he should be easy. I gave -him a lock of my hair set in a ring when he was at Longstaple last, -and that was some comfort to him, he said, but not equal to a picture. -Perhaps you might notice the ring when you saw him?" - -"I did," said Elinor, with a composure of voice, under which was -concealed an emotion and distress beyond any thing she had ever felt -before. She was mortified, shocked, confounded. - -Fortunately for her, they had now reached the cottage, and the -conversation could be continued no farther. After sitting with them a -few minutes, the Miss Steeles returned to the Park, and Elinor was -then at liberty to think and be wretched. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -However small Elinor's general dependence on Lucy's veracity might be, -it was impossible for her on serious reflection to suspect it in the -present case, where no temptation could be answerable to the folly of -inventing a falsehood of such a description. What Lucy had asserted to -be true, therefore, Elinor could not, dared not longer doubt; -supported as it was too on every side by such probabilities and -proofs, and contradicted by nothing but her own wishes. Their -opportunity of acquaintance in the house of Mr. Pratt was a foundation -for the rest, at once indisputable and alarming; and Edward's visit -near Plymouth, his melancholy state of mind, his dissatisfaction at -his own prospects, his uncertain behaviour towards herself, the -intimate knowledge of the Miss Steeles as to Norland and their family -connections, which had often surprised her, the picture, the letter, -the ring, formed altogether such a body of evidence, as overcame -every fear of condemning him unfairly, and established as a fact, -which no partiality could set aside, his ill-treatment of herself. Her -resentment of such behaviour, her indignation at having been its dupe, -for a short time made her feel only for herself; but other ideas, -other considerations, soon arose. Had Edward been intentionally -deceiving her? Had he feigned a regard for her which he did not feel? -Was his engagement to Lucy an engagement of the heart? No; whatever it -might once have been, she could not believe it such at present. His -affection was all her own. She could not be deceived in that. Her -mother, sisters, Fanny, all had been conscious of his regard for her -at Norland; it was not an illusion of her own vanity. He certainly -loved her. What a softener of the heart was this persuasion! How much -could it not tempt her to forgive! He had been blamable, highly -blamable, in remaining at Norland after he first felt her influence -over him to be more than it ought to be. In that, he could not be -defended; but if he had injured her, how much more had he injured -himself; if her case were pitiable, his was hopeless. His imprudence -had made her miserable for a while; but it seemed to have deprived -himself of all chance of ever being otherwise. She might in time -regain tranquillity; but _he_, what had he to look forward to? Could -he ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele; could he, were his -affection for herself out of the question, with his integrity, his -delicacy, and well-informed mind, be satisfied with a wife like -her--illiterate, artful, and selfish? - -The youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally blind him to -every thing but her beauty and good nature; but the four succeeding -years--years, which if rationally spent, give such improvement to the -understanding, must have opened his eyes to her defects of education, -while the same period of time, spent on her side in inferior society -and more frivolous pursuits, had perhaps robbed her of that simplicity -which might once have given an interesting character to her beauty. - -If in the supposition of his seeking to marry herself, his -difficulties from his mother had seemed great, how much greater were -they now likely to be, when the object of his engagement was -undoubtedly inferior in connections, and probably inferior in fortune -to herself. These difficulties, indeed, with a heart so alienated -from Lucy, might not press very hard upon his patience; but melancholy -was the state of the person by whom the expectation of family -opposition and unkindness, could be felt as a relief! - -As these considerations occurred to her in painful succession, she -wept for him, more than for herself. Supported by the conviction of -having done nothing to merit her present unhappiness, and consoled by -the belief that Edward had done nothing to forfeit her esteem, she -thought she could even now, under the first smart of the heavy blow, -command herself enough to guard every suspicion of the truth from her -mother and sisters. And so well was she able to answer her own -expectations, that when she joined them at dinner only two hours after -she had first suffered the extinction of all her dearest hopes, no one -would have supposed from the appearance of the sisters, that Elinor -was mourning in secret over obstacles which must divide her for ever -from the object of her love, and that Marianne was internally dwelling -on the perfections of a man, of whose whole heart she felt thoroughly -possessed, and whom she expected to see in every carriage which drove -near their house. - -The necessity of concealing from her mother and Marianne, what had -been entrusted in confidence to herself, though it obliged her to -unceasing exertion, was no aggravation of Elinor's distress. On the -contrary it was a relief to her, to be spared the communication of -what would give such affliction to them, and to be saved likewise from -hearing that condemnation of Edward, which would probably flow from -the excess of their partial affection for herself, and which was more -than she felt equal to support. - -From their counsel, or their conversation, she knew she could receive -no assistance, their tenderness and sorrow must add to her distress, -while her self-command would neither receive encouragement from their -example nor from their praise. She was stronger alone, and her own -good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken, -her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as with regrets so -poignant and so fresh, it was possible for them to be. - -Much as she had suffered from her first conversation with Lucy on the -subject, she soon felt an earnest wish of renewing it; and this for -more reasons than one. She wanted to hear many particulars of their -engagement repeated again, she wanted more clearly to understand what -Lucy really felt for Edward, whether there were any sincerity in her -declaration of tender regard for him, and she particularly wanted to -convince Lucy, by her readiness to enter on the matter again, and her -calmness in conversing on it, that she was no otherwise interested in -it than as a friend, which she very much feared her involuntary -agitation, in their morning discourse, must have left at least -doubtful. That Lucy was disposed to be jealous of her appeared very -probable: it was plain that Edward had always spoken highly in her -praise, not merely from Lucy's assertion, but from her venturing to -trust her on so short a personal acquaintance, with a secret so -confessedly and evidently important. And even Sir John's joking -intelligence must have had some weight. But indeed, while Elinor -remained so well assured within herself of being really beloved by -Edward, it required no other consideration of probabilities to make it -natural that Lucy should be jealous; and that she was so, her very -confidence was a proof. What other reason for the disclosure of the -affair could there be, but that Elinor might be informed by it of -Lucy's superior claims on Edward, and be taught to avoid him in -future? She had little difficulty in understanding thus much of her -rival's intentions, and while she was firmly resolved to act by her as -every principle of honour and honesty directed, to combat her own -affection for Edward and to see him as little as possible; she could -not deny herself the comfort of endeavouring to convince Lucy that her -heart was unwounded. And as she could now have nothing more painful to -hear on the subject than had already been told, she did not mistrust -her own ability of going through a repetition of particulars with -composure. - -But it was not immediately that an opportunity of doing so could be -commanded, though Lucy was as well disposed as herself to take -advantage of any that occurred; for the weather was not often fine -enough to allow of their joining in a walk, where they might most -easily separate themselves from the others; and though they met at -least every other evening either at the park or cottage, and chiefly -at the former, they could not be supposed to meet for the sake of -conversation. Such a thought would never enter either Sir John or -Lady Middleton's head; and therefore very little leisure was ever -given for a general chat, and none at all for particular discourse. -They met for the sake of eating, drinking, and laughing together, -playing at cards, or consequences, or any other game that was -sufficiently noisy. - -One or two meetings of this kind had taken place, without affording -Elinor any chance of engaging Lucy in private, when Sir John called at -the cottage one morning, to beg, in the name of charity, that they -would all dine with Lady Middleton that day, as he was obliged to -attend the club at Exeter, and she would otherwise be quite alone, -except her mother and the two Miss Steeles. Elinor, who foresaw a -fairer opening for the point she had in view, in such a party as this -was likely to be, more at liberty among themselves under the tranquil -and well-bred direction of Lady Middleton than when her husband united -them together in one noisy purpose, immediately accepted the -invitation; Margaret, with her mother's permission, was equally -compliant, and Marianne, though always unwilling to join any of their -parties, was persuaded by her mother, who could not bear to have her -seclude herself from any chance of amusement, to go likewise. - -The young ladies went, and Lady Middleton was happily preserved from -the frightful solitude which had threatened her. The insipidity of the -meeting was exactly such as Elinor had expected; it produced not one -novelty of thought or expression, and nothing could be less -interesting than the whole of their discourse both in the dining -parlour and drawing room: to the latter, the children accompanied -them, and while they remained there, she was too well convinced of the -impossibility of engaging Lucy's attention to attempt it. They quitted -it only with the removal of the tea-things. The card-table was then -placed, and Elinor began to wonder at herself for having ever -entertained a hope of finding time for conversation at the park. They -all rose up in preparation for a round game. - -"I am glad," said Lady Middleton to Lucy, "you are not going to finish -poor little Annamaria's basket this evening; for I am sure it must -hurt your eyes to work filigree by candlelight. And we will make the -dear little love some amends for her disappointment to-morrow, and -then I hope she will not much mind it." - -This hint was enough, Lucy recollected herself instantly and replied, -"Indeed you are very much mistaken, Lady Middleton; I am only waiting -to know whether you can make your party without me, or I should have -been at my filigree already. I would not disappoint the little angel -for all the world: and if you want me at the card-table now, I am -resolved to finish the basket after supper." - -"You are very good, I hope it won't hurt your eyes:--will you ring the -bell for some working candles? My poor little girl would be sadly -disappointed, I know, if the basket was not finished tomorrow, for -though I told her it certainly would not, I am sure she depends upon -having it done." - -Lucy directly drew her work table near her and reseated herself with -an alacrity and cheerfulness which seemed to infer that she could -taste no greater delight than in making a filigree basket for a spoilt -child. - -Lady Middleton proposed a rubber of Casino to the others. No one made -any objection but Marianne, who with her usual inattention to the -forms of general civility, exclaimed, "Your Ladyship will have the -goodness to excuse _me_--you know I detest cards. I shall go to the -piano-forte; I have not touched it since it was tuned." And without -farther ceremony, she turned away and walked to the instrument. - -Lady Middleton looked as if she thanked heaven that _she_ had never -made so rude a speech. - -"Marianne can never keep long from that instrument you know, ma'am," -said Elinor, endeavouring to smooth away the offence; "and I do not -much wonder at it; for it is the very best toned piano-forte I ever -heard." - -The remaining five were now to draw their cards. - -"Perhaps," continued Elinor, "if I should happen to cut out, I may be -of some use to Miss Lucy Steele, in rolling her papers for her; and -there is so much still to be done to the basket, that it must be -impossible I think for her labour singly, to finish it this evening. I -should like the work exceedingly, if she would allow me a share in -it." - -"Indeed I shall be very much obliged to you for your help," cried -Lucy, "for I find there is more to be done to it than I thought there -was; and it would be a shocking thing to disappoint dear Annamaria -after all." - -"Oh! that would be terrible, indeed," said Miss Steele. "Dear little -soul, how I do love her!" - -"You are very kind," said Lady Middleton to Elinor; "and as you -really like the work, perhaps you will be as well pleased not to cut -in till another rubber, or will you take your chance now?" - -Elinor joyfully profited by the first of these proposals, and thus by -a little of that address which Marianne could never condescend to -practise, gained her own end, and pleased Lady Middleton at the same -time. Lucy made room for her with ready attention, and the two fair -rivals were thus seated side by side at the same table, and, with the -utmost harmony, engaged in forwarding the same work. The pianoforte at -which Marianne, wrapped up in her own music and her own thoughts, had -by this time forgotten that any body was in the room besides herself, -was luckily so near them that Miss Dashwood now judged she might -safely, under the shelter of its noise, introduce the interesting -subject, without any risk of being heard at the card-table. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -In a firm, though cautious tone, Elinor thus began. - -"I should be undeserving of the confidence you have honoured me with, -if I felt no desire for its continuance, or no farther curiosity on -its subject. I will not apologize therefore for bringing it forward -again." - -"Thank you," cried Lucy warmly, "for breaking the ice; you have set my -heart at ease by it; for I was somehow or other afraid I had offended -you by what I told you that Monday." - -"Offended me! How could you suppose so? Believe me," and Elinor spoke -it with the truest sincerity, "nothing could be farther from my -intention than to give you such an idea. Could you have a motive for -the trust, that was not honourable and flattering to me?" - -"And yet I do assure you," replied Lucy, her little sharp eyes full of -meaning, "there seemed to me to be a coldness and displeasure in your -manner that made me quite uncomfortable. I felt sure that you was -angry with me; and have been quarrelling with myself ever since, for -having took such a liberty as to trouble you with my affairs. But I am -very glad to find it was only my own fancy, and that you really do not -blame me. If you knew what a consolation it was to me to relieve my -heart speaking to you of what I am always thinking of every moment of -my life, your compassion would make you overlook every thing else I am -sure." - -"Indeed, I can easily believe that it was a very great relief to you, -to acknowledge your situation to me, and be assured that you shall -never have reason to repent it. Your case is a very unfortunate one; -you seem to me to be surrounded with difficulties, and you will have -need of all your mutual affection to support you under them. Mr. -Ferrars, I believe, is entirely dependent on his mother." - -"He has only two thousand pounds of his own; it would be madness to -marry upon that, though for my own part, I could give up every -prospect of more without a sigh. I have been always used to a very -small income, and could struggle with any poverty for him; but I love -him too well to be the selfish means of robbing him, perhaps, of all -that his mother might give him if he married to please her. We must -wait, it may be for many years. With almost every other man in the -world, it would be an alarming prospect; but Edward's affection and -constancy nothing can deprive me of I know." - -"That conviction must be every thing to you; and he is undoubtedly -supported by the same trust in your's. If the strength of your -reciprocal attachment had failed, as between many people, and under -many circumstances it naturally would during a four years' engagement, -your situation would have been pitiable, indeed." - -Lucy here looked up; but Elinor was careful in guarding her -countenance from every expression that could give her words a -suspicious tendency. - -"Edward's love for me," said Lucy, "has been pretty well put to the -test, by our long, very long absence since we were first engaged, and -it has stood the trial so well, that I should be unpardonable to doubt -it now. I can safely say that he has never gave me one moment's alarm -on that account from the first." - -Elinor hardly knew whether to smile or sigh at this assertion. - -Lucy went on. "I am rather of a jealous temper too by nature, and from -our different situations in life, from his being so much more in the -world than me, and our continual separation, I was enough inclined for -suspicion, to have found out the truth in an instant, if there had -been the slightest alteration in his behaviour to me when we met, or -any lowness of spirits that I could not account for, or if he had -talked more of one lady than another, or seemed in any respect less -happy at Longstaple than he used to be. I do not mean to say that I am -particularly observant or quick-sighted in general, but in such a case -I am sure I could not be deceived." - -"All this," thought Elinor, "is very pretty; but it can impose upon -neither of us." - -"But what," said she after a short silence, "are your views? or have -you none but that of waiting for Mrs. Ferrars's death, which is a -melancholy and shocking extremity?--Is her son determined to submit to -this, and to all the tediousness of the many years of suspense in -which it may involve you, rather than run the risk of her displeasure -for a while by owning the truth?" - -"If we could be certain that it would be only for a while! But Mrs. -Ferrars is a very headstrong proud woman, and in her first fit of -anger upon hearing it, would very likely secure every thing to Robert, -and the idea of that, for Edward's sake, frightens away all my -inclination for hasty measures." - -"And for your own sake too, or you are carrying your disinterestedness -beyond reason." - -Lucy looked at Elinor again, and was silent. - -"Do you know Mr. Robert Ferrars?" asked Elinor. - -"Not at all--I never saw him; but I fancy he is very unlike his -brother--silly and a great coxcomb." - -"A great coxcomb!" repeated Miss Steele, whose ear had caught those -words by a sudden pause in Marianne's music. "Oh, they are talking of -their favourite beaux, I dare say." - -"No sister," cried Lucy, "you are mistaken there, our favourite beaux -are _not_ great coxcombs." - -"I can answer for it that Miss Dashwood's is not," said Mrs. Jennings, -laughing heartily; "for he is one of the modestest, prettiest behaved -young men I ever saw; but as for Lucy, she is such a sly little -creature, there is no finding out who _she_ likes." - -[Illustration: "_I can answer for it," said Mrs. Jennings._] - -"Oh," cried Miss Steele, looking significantly round at them, "I dare -say Lucy's beau is quite as modest and pretty behaved as Miss -Dashwood's." - -Elinor blushed in spite of herself. Lucy bit her lip, and looked -angrily at her sister. A mutual silence took place for some time. Lucy -first put an end to it by saying in a lower tone, though Marianne was -then giving them the powerful protection of a very magnificent -concerto-- - -"I will honestly tell you of one scheme which has lately come into my -head, for bringing matters to bear; indeed I am bound to let you into -the secret, for you are a party concerned. I dare say you have seen -enough of Edward to know that he would prefer the church to every -other profession; now my plan is that he should take orders as soon as -he can, and then through your interest, which I am sure you would be -kind enough to use out of friendship for him, and I hope out of some -regard to me, your brother might be persuaded to give him Norland -living; which I understand is a very good one, and the present -incumbent not likely to live a great while. That would be enough for -us to marry upon, and we might trust to time and chance for the rest." - -"I should always be happy," replied Elinor, "to show any mark of my -esteem and friendship for Mr. Ferrars; but do you not perceive that my -interest on such an occasion would be perfectly unnecessary? He is -brother to Mrs. John Dashwood--_that_ must be recommendation enough to -her husband." - -"But Mrs. John Dashwood would not much approve of Edward's going into -orders." - -"Then I rather suspect that my interest would do very little." - -They were again silent for many minutes. At length Lucy exclaimed with -a deep sigh-- - -"I believe it would be the wisest way to put an end to the business at -once by dissolving the engagement. We seem so beset with difficulties -on every side, that though it would make us miserable for a time, we -should be happier perhaps in the end. But you will not give me your -advice, Miss Dashwood?" - -"No," answered Elinor, with a smile, which concealed very agitated -feelings, "on such a subject I certainly will not. You know very well -that my opinion would have no weight with you, unless it were on the -side of your wishes." - -"Indeed you wrong me," replied Lucy, with great solemnity; "I know -nobody of whose judgment I think so highly as I do of yours; and I do -really believe, that if you was to say to me, 'I advise you by all -means to put an end to your engagement with Edward Ferrars, it will be -more for the happiness of both of you,' I should resolve upon doing it -immediately." - -Elinor blushed for the insincerity of Edward's future wife, and -replied, "This compliment would effectually frighten me from giving -any opinion on the subject had I formed one. It raises my influence -much too high; the power of dividing two people so tenderly attached -is too much for an indifferent person." - -"'Tis because you are an indifferent person," said Lucy, with some -pique, and laying a particular stress on those words, "that your -judgment might justly have such weight with me. If you could be -supposed to be biased in any respect by your own feelings, your -opinion would not be worth having." - -Elinor thought it wisest to make no answer to this, lest they might -provoke each other to an unsuitable increase of ease and unreserve; -and was even partly determined never to mention the subject again. -Another pause therefore of many minutes' duration, succeeded this -speech, and Lucy was still the first to end it. - -"Shall you be in town this winter, Miss Dashwood?" said she with all -her accustomary complacency. - -"Certainly not." - -"I am sorry for that," returned the other, while her eyes brightened -at the information, "it would have gave me such pleasure to meet you -there! But I dare say you will go for all that. To be sure, your -brother and sister will ask you to come to them." - -"It will not be in my power to accept their invitation if they do." - -"How unlucky that is! I had quite depended upon meeting you there. -Anne and me are to go the latter end of January to some relations who -have been wanting us to visit them these several years! But I only go -for the sake of seeing Edward. He will be there in February, otherwise -London would have no charms for me; I have not spirits for it." - -Elinor was soon called to the card-table by the conclusion of the -first rubber, and the confidential discourse of the two ladies was -therefore at an end, to which both of them submitted without any -reluctance, for nothing had been said on either side to make them -dislike each other less than they had done before; and Elinor sat down -to the card table with the melancholy persuasion that Edward was not -only without affection for the person who was to be his wife; but that -he had not even the chance of being tolerably happy in marriage, which -sincere affection on _her_ side would have given, for self-interest -alone could induce a woman to keep a man to an engagement, of which -she seemed so thoroughly aware that he was weary. - -From this time the subject was never revived by Elinor, and when -entered on by Lucy, who seldom missed an opportunity of introducing -it, and was particularly careful to inform her confidante, of her -happiness whenever she received a letter from Edward, it was treated -by the former with calmness and caution, and dismissed as soon as -civility would allow; for she felt such conversations to be an -indulgence which Lucy did not deserve, and which were dangerous to -herself. - -The visit of the Miss Steeles at Barton Park was lengthened far beyond -what the first invitation implied. Their favour increased; they could -not be spared; Sir John would not hear of their going; and in spite of -their numerous and long arranged engagements in Exeter, in spite of -the absolute necessity of returning to fulfill them immediately, which -was in full force at the end of every week, they were prevailed on to -stay nearly two months at the park, and to assist in the due -celebration of that festival which requires a more than ordinary share -of private balls and large dinners to proclaim its importance. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -Though Mrs. Jennings was in the habit of spending a large portion of -the year at the houses of her children and friends, she was not -without a settled habitation of her own. Since the death of her -husband, who had traded with success in a less elegant part of the -town, she had resided every winter in a house in one of the streets -near Portman Square. Towards this home, she began on the approach of -January to turn her thoughts, and thither she one day abruptly, and -very unexpectedly by them, asked the elder Misses Dashwood to -accompany her. Elinor, without observing the varying complexion of her -sister, and the animated look which spoke no indifference to the plan, -immediately gave a grateful but absolute denial for both, in which she -believed herself to be speaking their united inclinations. The reason -alleged was their determined resolution of not leaving their mother at -that time of the year. Mrs. Jennings received the refusal with some -surprise, and repeated her invitation immediately. - -"Oh, Lord! I am sure your mother can spare you very well, and I _do_ -beg you will favour me with your company, for I've quite set my heart -upon it. Don't fancy that you will be any inconvenience to me, for I -shan't put myself at all out of my way for you. It will only be -sending Betty by the coach, and I hope I can afford _that._ We three -shall be able to go very well in my chaise; and when we are in town, -if you do not like to go wherever I do, well and good, you may always -go with one of my daughters. I am sure your mother will not object to -it; for I have had such good luck in getting my own children off my -hands that she will think me a very fit person to have the charge of -you; and if I don't get one of you at least well married before I have -done with you, it shall not be my fault. I shall speak a good word for -you to all the young men, you may depend upon it." - -"I have a notion," said Sir John, "that Miss Marianne would not object -to such a scheme, if her elder sister would come into it. It is very -hard indeed that she should not have a little pleasure, because Miss -Dashwood does not wish it. So I would advise you two, to set off for -town, when you are tired of Barton, without saying a word to Miss -Dashwood about it." - -"Nay," cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure I shall be monstrous glad of -Miss Marianne's company, whether Miss Dashwood will go or not, only -the more the merrier say I, and I thought it would be more comfortable -for them to be together; because, if they got tired of me, they might -talk to one another, and laugh at my old ways behind my back. But one -or the other, if not both of them, I must have. Lord bless me! how do -you think I can live poking by myself, I who have been always used -till this winter to have Charlotte with me. Come, Miss Marianne, let -us strike hands upon the bargain, and if Miss Dashwood will change her -mind by and bye, why so much the better." - -"I thank you, ma'am, sincerely thank you," said Marianne, with warmth: -"your invitation has insured my gratitude for ever, and it would give -me such happiness, yes, almost the greatest happiness I am capable of, -to be able to accept it. But my mother, my dearest, kindest mother,--I -feel the justice of what Elinor has urged, and if she were to be made -less happy, less comfortable by our absence--Oh! no, nothing should -tempt me to leave her. It should not, must not be a struggle." - -Mrs. Jennings repeated her assurance that Mrs. Dashwood could spare -them perfectly well; and Elinor, who now understood her sister, and -saw to what indifference to almost every thing else she was carried by -her eagerness to be with Willoughby again, made no farther direct -opposition to the plan, and merely referred it to her mother's -decision, from whom however she scarcely expected to receive any -support in her endeavour to prevent a visit, which she could not -approve of for Marianne, and which on her own account she had -particular reasons to avoid. Whatever Marianne was desirous of, her -mother would be eager to promote--she could not expect to influence -the latter to cautiousness of conduct in an affair respecting which -she had never been able to inspire her with distrust; and she dared -not explain the motive of her own disinclination for going to London. -That Marianne, fastidious as she was, thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. -Jennings' manners, and invariably disgusted by them, should overlook -every inconvenience of that kind, should disregard whatever must be -most wounding to her irritable feelings, in her pursuit of one object, -was such a proof, so strong, so full, of the importance of that object -to her, as Elinor, in spite of all that had passed, was not prepared -to witness. - -On being informed of the invitation, Mrs. Dashwood, persuaded that -such an excursion would be productive of much amusement to both her -daughters, and perceiving through all her affectionate attention to -herself, how much the heart of Marianne was in it, would not hear of -their declining the offer upon _her_ account; insisted on their both -accepting it directly; and then began to foresee, with her usual -cheerfulness, a variety of advantages that would accrue to them all, -from this separation. - -"I am delighted with the plan," she cried, "it is exactly what I could -wish. Margaret and I shall be as much benefited by it as yourselves. -When you and the Middletons are gone, we shall go on so quietly and -happily together with our books and our music! You will find Margaret -so improved when you come back again! I have a little plan of -alteration for your bedrooms too, which may now be performed without -any inconvenience to any one. It is very right that you _should_ go to -town; I would have every young woman of your condition in life -acquainted with the manners and amusements of London. You will be -under the care of a motherly good sort of woman, of whose kindness to -you I can have no doubt. And in all probability you will see your -brother, and whatever may be his faults, or the faults of his wife, -when I consider whose son he is, I cannot bear to have you so wholly -estranged from each other." - -"Though with your usual anxiety for our happiness," said Elinor, "you -have been obviating every impediment to the present scheme which -occurred to you, there is still one objection which, in my opinion, -cannot be so easily removed." - -Marianne's countenance sunk. - -"And what," said Mrs. Dashwood, "is my dear prudent Elinor going to -suggest? What formidable obstacle is she now to bring forward? Do let -me hear a word about the expense of it." - -"My objection is this; though I think very well of Mrs. Jennings's -heart, she is not a woman whose society can afford us pleasure, or -whose protection will give us consequence." - -"That is very true," replied her mother, "but of her society, -separately from that of other people, you will scarcely have any thing -at all, and you will almost always appear in public with Lady -Middleton." - -"If Elinor is frightened away by her dislike of Mrs. Jennings," said -Marianne, "at least it need not prevent _my_ accepting her invitation. -I have no such scruples, and I am sure I could put up with every -unpleasantness of that kind with very little effort." - -Elinor could not help smiling at this display of indifference towards -the manners of a person, to whom she had often had difficulty in -persuading Marianne to behave with tolerable politeness; and resolved -within herself, that if her sister persisted in going, she would go -likewise, as she did not think it proper that Marianne should be left -to the sole guidance of her own judgment, or that Mrs. Jennings should -be abandoned to the mercy of Marianne for all the comfort of her -domestic hours. To this determination she was the more easily -reconciled, by recollecting that Edward Ferrars, by Lucy's account, -was not to be in town before February; and that their visit, without -any unreasonable abridgement, might be previously finished. - -"I will have you _both_ go," said Mrs. Dashwood; "these objections are -nonsensical. You will have much pleasure in being in London, and -especially in being together; and if Elinor would ever condescend to -anticipate enjoyment, she would foresee it there from a variety of -sources; she would, perhaps, expect some from improving her -acquaintance with her sister-in-law's family." - -Elinor had often wished for an opportunity of attempting to weaken her -mother's dependence on the attachment of Edward and herself, that the -shock might be less when the whole truth were revealed, and now on -this attack, though almost hopeless of success, she forced herself to -begin her design by saying, as calmly as she could, "I like Edward -Ferrars very much, and shall always be glad to see him; but as to the -rest of the family, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me, -whether I am ever known to them or not." - -Mrs. Dashwood smiled, and said nothing. Marianne lifted up her eyes in -astonishment, and Elinor conjectured that she might as well have held -her tongue. - -After very little farther discourse, it was finally settled that the -invitation should be fully accepted. Mrs. Jennings received the -information with a great deal of joy, and many assurances of kindness -and care; nor was it a matter of pleasure merely to her. Sir John was -delighted; for to a man, whose prevailing anxiety was the dread of -being alone, the acquisition of two, to the number of inhabitants in -London, was something. Even Lady Middleton took the trouble of being -delighted, which was putting herself rather out of her way; and as -for the Miss Steeles, especially Lucy, they had never been so happy in -their lives as this intelligence made them. - -Elinor submitted to the arrangement which counteracted her wishes with -less reluctance than she had expected to feel. With regard to herself, -it was now a matter of unconcern whether she went to town or not, and -when she saw her mother so thoroughly pleased with the plan, and her -sister exhilarated by it in look, voice, and manner, restored to all -her usual animation, and elevated to more than her usual gaiety, she -could not be dissatisfied with the cause, and would hardly allow -herself to distrust the consequence. - -Marianne's joy was almost a degree beyond happiness, so great was the -perturbation of her spirits and her impatience to be gone. Her -unwillingness to quit her mother was her only restorative to calmness; -and at the moment of parting her grief on that score was excessive. -Her mother's affliction was hardly less, and Elinor was the only one -of the three, who seemed to consider the separation as any thing short -of eternal. - -Their departure took place in the first week in January. The -Middletons were to follow in about a week. The Miss Steeles kept their -station at the park, and were to quit it only with the rest of the -family. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -Elinor could not find herself in the carriage with Mrs. Jennings, and -beginning a journey to London under her protection, and as her guest, -without wondering at her own situation, so short had their -acquaintance with that lady been, so wholly unsuited were they in age -and disposition, and so many had been her objections against such a -measure only a few days before! But these objections had all, with -that happy ardour of youth which Marianne and her mother equally -shared, been overcome or overlooked; and Elinor, in spite of every -occasional doubt of Willoughby's constancy, could not witness the -rapture of delightful expectation which filled the whole soul and -beamed in the eyes of Marianne, without feeling how blank was her own -prospect, how cheerless her own state of mind in the comparison, and -how gladly she would engage in the solicitude of Marianne's situation -to have the same animating object in view, the same possibility of -hope. A short, a very short time however must now decide what -Willoughby's intentions were; in all probability he was already in -town. Marianne's eagerness to be gone declared her dependence on -finding him there; and Elinor was resolved not only upon gaining every -new light as to his character which her own observation or the -intelligence of others could give her, but likewise upon watching his -behaviour to her sister with such zealous attention, as to ascertain -what he was and what he meant, before many meetings had taken place. -Should the result of her observations be unfavourable, she was -determined at all events to open the eyes of her sister; should it be -otherwise, her exertions would be of a different nature--she must then -learn to avoid every selfish comparison, and banish every regret which -might lessen her satisfaction in the happiness of Marianne. - -They were three days on their journey, and Marianne's behaviour as -they travelled was a happy specimen of what future complaisance and -companionableness to Mrs. Jennings might be expected to be. She sat in -silence almost all the way, wrapt in her own meditations, and scarcely -ever voluntarily speaking, except when any object of picturesque -beauty within their view drew from her an exclamation of delight -exclusively addressed to her sister. To atone for this conduct -therefore, Elinor took immediate possession of the post of civility -which she had assigned herself, behaved with the greatest attention to -Mrs. Jennings, talked with her, laughed with her, and listened to her -whenever she could; and Mrs. Jennings on her side treated them both -with all possible kindness, was solicitous on every occasion for their -ease and enjoyment, and only disturbed that she could not make them -choose their own dinners at the inn, nor extort a confession of their -preferring salmon to cod, or boiled fowls to veal cutlets. They -reached town by three o'clock the third day, glad to be released, -after such a journey, from the confinement of a carriage, and ready to -enjoy all the luxury of a good fire. - -The house was handsome, and handsomely fitted up, and the young -ladies were immediately put in possession of a very comfortable -apartment. It had formerly been Charlotte's, and over the mantelpiece -still hung a landscape in coloured silks of her performance, in proof -of her having spent seven years at a great school in town to some -effect. - -As dinner was not to be ready in less than two hours from their -arrival, Elinor determined to employ the interval in writing to her -mother, and sat down for that purpose. In a few moments Marianne did -the same. "I am writing home, Marianne," said Elinor; "had not you -better defer your letter for a day or two?" - -"I am _not_ going to write to my mother," replied Marianne, hastily, -and as if wishing to avoid any farther inquiry. Elinor said no more; -it immediately struck her that she must then be writing to Willoughby; -and the conclusion which as instantly followed was, that, however -mysteriously they might wish to conduct the affair, they must be -engaged. This conviction, though not entirely satisfactory, gave her -pleasure, and she continued her letter with greater alacrity. -Marianne's was finished in a very few minutes; in length it could be -no more than a note; it was then folded up, sealed, and directed with -eager rapidity. Elinor thought she could distinguish a large W in the -direction; and no sooner was it complete than Marianne, ringing the -bell, requested the footman who answered it to get that letter -conveyed for her to the two-penny post. This decided the matter at -once. - -Her spirits still continued very high; but there was a flutter in them -which prevented their giving much pleasure to her sister, and this -agitation increased as the evening drew on. She could scarcely eat any -dinner, and when they afterwards returned to the drawing room, seemed -anxiously listening to the sound of every carriage. - -It was a great satisfaction to Elinor that Mrs. Jennings, by being -much engaged in her own room, could see little of what was passing. -The tea things were brought in, and already had Marianne been -disappointed more than once by a rap at a neighbouring door, when a -loud one was suddenly heard which could not be mistaken for one at any -other house, Elinor felt secure of its announcing Willoughby's -approach, and Marianne, starting up, moved towards the door. Every -thing was silent; this could not be borne many seconds; she opened -the door, advanced a few steps towards the stairs, and after listening -half a minute, returned into the room in all the agitation which a -conviction of having heard him would naturally produce; in the ecstasy -of her feelings at that instant she could not help exclaiming, "Oh, -Elinor, it is Willoughby, indeed it is!" and seemed almost ready to -throw herself into his arms, when Colonel Brandon appeared. - -It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness, and she -immediately left the room. Elinor was disappointed too; but at the -same time her regard for Colonel Brandon ensured his welcome with her; -and she felt particularly hurt that a man so partial to her sister -should perceive that she experienced nothing but grief and -disappointment in seeing him. She instantly saw that it was not -unnoticed by him, that he even observed Marianne as she quitted the -room, with such astonishment and concern, as hardly left him the -recollection of what civility demanded towards herself. - -"Is your sister ill?" said he. - -Elinor answered in some distress that she was, and then talked of -head-aches, low spirits, and over fatigues; and of every thing to -which she could decently attribute her sister's behaviour. - -He heard her with the most earnest attention, but seeming to recollect -himself, said no more on the subject, and began directly to speak of -his pleasure at seeing them in London, making the usual inquiries -about their journey, and the friends they had left behind. - -In this calm kind of way, with very little interest on either side, -they continued to talk, both of them out of spirits, and the thoughts -of both engaged elsewhere. Elinor wished very much to ask whether -Willoughby were then in town, but she was afraid of giving him pain by -any enquiry after his rival; and at length, by way of saying -something, she asked if he had been in London ever since she had seen -him last. "Yes," he replied, with some embarrassment, "almost ever -since; I have been once or twice at Delaford for a few days, but it -has never been in my power to return to Barton." - -This, and the manner in which it was said, immediately brought back to -her remembrance all the circumstances of his quitting that place, with -the uneasiness and suspicions they had caused to Mrs. Jennings, and -she was fearful that her question had implied much more curiosity on -the subject than she had ever felt. - -Mrs. Jennings soon came in. "Oh! Colonel," said she, with her usual -noisy cheerfulness, "I am monstrous glad to see you--sorry I could not -come before--beg your pardon, but I have been forced to look about me -a little, and settle my matters; for it is a long while since I have -been at home, and you know one has always a world of little odd things -to do after one has been away for any time; and then I have had -Cartwright to settle with. Lord, I have been as busy as a bee ever -since dinner! But pray, Colonel, how came you to conjure out that I -should be in town today?" - -"I had the pleasure of hearing it at Mr. Palmer's, where I have been -dining." - -"Oh, you did; well, and how do they all do at their house? How does -Charlotte do? I warrant you she is a fine size by this time." - -"Mrs. Palmer appeared quite well, and I am commissioned to tell you, -that you will certainly see her to-morrow." - -"Ay, to be sure, I thought as much. Well, Colonel, I have brought two -young ladies with me, you see--that is, you see but one of them now, -but there is another somewhere. Your friend, Miss Marianne, too--which -you will not be sorry to hear. I do not know what you and Mr. -Willoughby will do between you about her. Ay, it is a fine thing to be -young and handsome. Well! I was young once, but I never was very -handsome--worse luck for me. However, I got a very good husband, and I -don't know what the greatest beauty can do more. Ah! poor man! he has -been dead these eight years and better. But Colonel, where have you -been to since we parted? And how does your business go on? Come, come, -let's have no secrets among friends." - -He replied with his accustomary mildness to all her inquiries, but -without satisfying her in any. Elinor now began to make the tea, and -Marianne was obliged to appear again. - -After her entrance, Colonel Brandon became more thoughtful and silent -than he had been before, and Mrs. Jennings could not prevail on him to -stay long. No other visitor appeared that evening, and the ladies were -unanimous in agreeing to go early to bed. - -Marianne rose the next morning with recovered spirits and happy looks. -The disappointment of the evening before seemed forgotten in the -expectation of what was to happen that day. They had not long finished -their breakfast before Mrs. Palmer's barouche stopped at the door, and -in a few minutes she came laughing into the room: so delighted to see -them all, that it was hard to say whether she received most pleasure -from meeting her mother or the Miss Dashwoods again. So surprised at -their coming to town, though it was what she had rather expected all -along; so angry at their accepting her mother's invitation after -having declined her own, though at the same time she would never have -forgiven them if they had not come! - -"Mr. Palmer will be so happy to see you," said she; "What do you think -he said when he heard of your coming with Mamma? I forget what it was -now, but it was something so droll!" - -After an hour or two spent in what her mother called comfortable chat, -or in other words, in every variety of inquiry concerning all their -acquaintance on Mrs. Jennings's side, and in laughter without cause on -Mrs. Palmer's, it was proposed by the latter that they should all -accompany her to some shops where she had business that morning, to -which Mrs. Jennings and Elinor readily consented, as having likewise -some purchases to make themselves; and Marianne, though declining it -at first was induced to go likewise. - -Wherever they went, she was evidently always on the watch. In Bond -Street especially, where much of their business lay, her eyes were in -constant inquiry; and in whatever shop the party were engaged, her -mind was equally abstracted from every thing actually before them, -from all that interested and occupied the others. Restless and -dissatisfied every where, her sister could never obtain her opinion of -any article of purchase, however it might equally concern them both: -she received no pleasure from anything; was only impatient to be at -home again, and could with difficulty govern her vexation at the -tediousness of Mrs. Palmer, whose eye was caught by every thing -pretty, expensive, or new; who was wild to buy all, could determine on -none, and dawdled away her time in rapture and indecision. - -It was late in the morning before they returned home; and no sooner -had they entered the house than Marianne flew eagerly up stairs, and -when Elinor followed, she found her turning from the table with a -sorrowful countenance, which declared that no Willoughby had been -there. - -"Has no letter been left here for me since we went out?" said she to -the footman who then entered with the parcels. She was answered in the -negative. "Are you quite sure of it?" she replied. "Are you certain -that no servant, no porter has left any letter or note?" - -The man replied that none had. - -"How very odd!" said she, in a low and disappointed voice, as she -turned away to the window. - -"How odd, indeed!" repeated Elinor within herself, regarding her -sister with uneasiness. "If she had not known him to be in town she -would not have written to him, as she did; she would have written to -Combe Magna; and if he is in town, how odd that he should neither come -nor write! Oh! my dear mother, you must be wrong in permitting an -engagement between a daughter so young, a man so little known, to be -carried on in so doubtful, so mysterious a manner! I long to inquire; -and how will _my_ interference be borne." - -She determined, after some consideration, that if appearances -continued many days longer as unpleasant as they now were, she would -represent in the strongest manner to her mother the necessity of some -serious enquiry into the affair. - -Mrs. Palmer and two elderly ladies of Mrs. Jennings's intimate -acquaintance, whom she had met and invited in the morning, dined with -them. The former left them soon after tea to fulfill her evening -engagements; and Elinor was obliged to assist in making a whist table -for the others. Marianne was of no use on these occasions, as she -would never learn the game; but though her time was therefore at her -own disposal, the evening was by no means more productive of pleasure -to her than to Elinor, for it was spent in all the anxiety of -expectation and the pain of disappointment. She sometimes endeavoured -for a few minutes to read; but the book was soon thrown aside, and she -returned to the more interesting employment of walking backwards and -forwards across the room, pausing for a moment whenever she came to -the window, in hopes of distinguishing the long-expected rap. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - - -"If this open weather holds much longer," said Mrs. Jennings, when -they met at breakfast the following morning, "Sir John will not like -leaving Barton next week; 'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a -day's pleasure. Poor souls! I always pity them when they do; they seem -to take it so much to heart." - -"That is true," cried Marianne, in a cheerful voice, and walking to -the window as she spoke, to examine the day. "I had not thought of -that. This weather will keep many sportsmen in the country." - -It was a lucky recollection, all her good spirits were restored by it. -"It is charming weather for _them_ indeed," she continued, as she sat -down to the breakfast table with a happy countenance. "How much they -must enjoy it! But" (with a little return of anxiety) "it cannot be -expected to last long. At this time of the year, and after such a -series of rain, we shall certainly have very little more of it. Frosts -will soon set in, and in all probability with severity. In another day -or two perhaps; this extreme mildness can hardly last longer--nay, -perhaps it may freeze tonight!" - -"At any rate," said Elinor, wishing to prevent Mrs. Jennings from -seeing her sister's thoughts as clearly as she did, "I dare say we -shall have Sir John and Lady Middleton in town by the end of next -week." - -"Ay, my dear, I'll warrant you we do. Mary always has her own way." - -"And now," silently conjectured Elinor, "she will write to Combe by -this day's post." - -But if she _did_, the letter was written and sent away with a privacy -which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertain the fact. Whatever the -truth of it might be, and far as Elinor was from feeling thorough -contentment about it, yet while she saw Marianne in spirits, she could -not be very uncomfortable herself. And Marianne was in spirits; happy -in the mildness of the weather, and still happier in her expectation -of a frost. - -The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards at the houses of Mrs. -Jennings's acquaintance to inform them of her being in town; and -Marianne was all the time busy in observing the direction of the wind, -watching the variations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the -air. - -"Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning, Elinor? There -seems to me a very decided difference. I can hardly keep my hands warm -even in my muff. It was not so yesterday, I think. The clouds seem -parting too, the sun will be out in a moment, and we shall have a -clear afternoon." - -Elinor was alternately diverted and pained; but Marianne persevered, -and saw every night in the brightness of the fire, and every morning -in the appearance of the atmosphere, the certain symptoms of -approaching frost. - -The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be dissatisfied with Mrs. -Jennings's style of living, and set of acquaintance, than with her -behaviour to themselves, which was invariably kind. Every thing in her -household arrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan, and -excepting a few old city friends, whom, to Lady Middleton's regret, -she had never dropped, she visited no one to whom an introduction -could at all discompose the feelings of her young companions. Pleased -to find herself more comfortably situated in that particular than she -had expected, Elinor was very willing to compound for the want of much -real enjoyment from any of their evening parties, which, whether at -home or abroad, formed only for cards, could have little to amuse her. - -Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitation to the house, was with -them almost every day; he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor, -who often derived more satisfaction from conversing with him than from -any other daily occurrence, but who saw at the same time with much -concern his continued regard for her sister. She feared it was a -strengthening regard. It grieved her to see the earnestness with which -he often watched Marianne, and his spirits were certainly worse than -when at Barton. - -About a week after their arrival, it became certain that Willoughby -was also arrived. His card was on the table when they came in from the -morning's drive. - -"Good God!" cried Marianne, "he has been here while we were out." -Elinor, rejoiced to be assured of his being in London, now ventured -to say, "Depend upon it, he will call again tomorrow." But Marianne -seemed hardly to hear her, and on Mrs. Jennings's entrance, escaped -with the precious card. - -This event, while it raised the spirits of Elinor, restored to those -of her sister all, and more than all, their former agitation. From -this moment her mind was never quiet; the expectation of seeing him -every hour of the day, made her unfit for any thing. She insisted on -being left behind, the next morning, when the others went out. - -Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passing in Berkeley -Street during their absence; but a moment's glance at her sister when -they returned was enough to inform her, that Willoughby had paid no -second visit there. A note was just then brought in, and laid on the -table. - -"For me!" cried Marianne, stepping hastily forward. - -"No, ma'am, for my mistress." - -But Marianne, not convinced, took it instantly up. - -"It is indeed for Mrs. Jennings; how provoking!" - -"You are expecting a letter, then?" said Elinor, unable to be longer -silent. - -"Yes, a little--not much." - -After a short pause. "You have no confidence in me, Marianne." - -"Nay, Elinor, this reproach from _you_--you who have confidence in no -one!" - -"Me!" returned Elinor in some confusion; "indeed, Marianne, I have -nothing to tell." - -"Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situations then are -alike. We have neither of us any thing to tell; you, because you do -not communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing." - -Elinor, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself, which she was -not at liberty to do away, knew not how, under such circumstances, to -press for greater openness in Marianne. - -Mrs. Jennings soon appeared, and the note being given her, she read it -aloud. It was from Lady Middleton, announcing their arrival in Conduit -Street the night before, and requesting the company of her mother and -cousins the following evening. Business on Sir John's part, and a -violent cold on her own, prevented their calling in Berkeley Street. -The invitation was accepted; but when the hour of appointment drew -near, necessary as it was in common civility to Mrs. Jennings, that -they should both attend her on such a visit, Elinor had some -difficulty in persuading her sister to go, for still she had seen -nothing of Willoughby; and therefore was not more indisposed for -amusement abroad, than unwilling to run the risk of his calling again -in her absence. - -Elinor found, when the evening was over, that disposition is not -materially altered by a change of abode, for although scarcely settled -in town, Sir John had contrived to collect around him, nearly twenty -young people, and to amuse them with a ball. This was an affair, -however, of which Lady Middleton did not approve. In the country, an -unpremeditated dance was very allowable; but in London, where the -reputation of elegance was more important and less easily attained, it -was risking too much for the gratification of a few girls, to have it -known that Lady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine -couple, with two violins, and a mere side-board collation. - -Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were of the party; from the former, whom they had -not seen before since their arrival in town, as he was careful to -avoid the appearance of any attention to his mother-in-law, and -therefore never came near her, they received no mark of recognition on -their entrance. He looked at them slightly, without seeming to know -who they were, and merely nodded to Mrs. Jennings from the other side -of the room. Marianne gave one glance round the apartment as she -entered: it was enough--_he_ was not there--and she sat down, equally -ill-disposed to receive or communicate pleasure. After they had been -assembled about an hour, Mr. Palmer sauntered towards the Miss -Dashwoods to express his surprise on seeing them in town, though -Colonel Brandon had been first informed of their arrival at his house, -and he had himself said something very droll on hearing that they were -to come. - -"I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he. - -"Did you?" replied Elinor. - -"When do you go back again?" - -"I do not know." And thus ended their discourse. - -Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance in her life, as she was -that evening, and never so much fatigued by the exercise. She -complained of it as they returned to Berkeley Street. - -"Aye, aye," said Mrs. Jennings, "we know the reason of all that very -well; if a certain person who shall be nameless, had been there, you -would not have been a bit tired: and to say the truth it was not very -pretty of him not to give you the meeting when he was invited." - -"Invited!" cried Marianne. - -"So my daughter Middleton told me, for it seems Sir John met him -somewhere in the street this morning." Marianne said no more, but -looked exceedingly hurt. Impatient in this situation to be doing -something that might lead to her sister's relief, Elinor resolved to -write the next morning to her mother, and hoped by awakening her fears -for the health of Marianne, to procure those inquiries which had been -so long delayed; and she was still more eagerly bent on this measure -by perceiving after breakfast on the morrow, that Marianne was again -writing to Willoughby, for she could not suppose it to be to any other -person. - -About the middle of the day, Mrs. Jennings went out by herself on -business, and Elinor began her letter directly, while Marianne, too -restless for employment, too anxious for conversation, walked from one -window to the other, or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation. -Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother, relating all -that had passed, her suspicions of Willoughby's inconstancy, urging -her by every plea of duty and affection to demand from Marianne an -account of her real situation with respect to him. - -Her letter was scarcely finished, when a rap foretold a visitor, and -Colonel Brandon was announced. Marianne, who had seen him from the -window, and who hated company of any kind, left the room before he -entered it. He looked more than usually grave, and though expressing -satisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone, as if he had somewhat in -particular to tell her, sat for some time without saying a word. -Elinor, persuaded that he had some communication to make in which her -sister was concerned, impatiently expected its opening. It was not the -first time of her feeling the same kind of conviction; for, more than -once before, beginning with the observation of "your sister looks -unwell to-day," or "your sister seems out of spirits," he had -appeared on the point, either of disclosing, or of inquiring, -something particular about her. After a pause of several minutes, -their silence was broken, by his asking her in a voice of some -agitation, when he was to congratulate her on the acquisition of a -brother? Elinor was not prepared for such a question, and having no -answer ready, was obliged to adopt the simple and common expedient, of -asking what he meant? He tried to smile as he replied, "your sister's -engagement to Mr. Willoughby is very generally known." - -"It cannot be generally known," returned Elinor, "for her own family -do not know it." - -He looked surprised and said, "I beg your pardon, I am afraid my -inquiry has been impertinent; but I had not supposed any secrecy -intended, as they openly correspond, and their marriage is universally -talked of." - -"How can that be? By whom can you have heard it mentioned?" - -"By many--by some of whom you know nothing, by others with whom you -are most intimate, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer, and the Middletons. But -still I might not have believed it, for where the mind is perhaps -rather unwilling to be convinced, it will always find something to -support its doubts, if I had not, when the servant let me in today, -accidentally seen a letter in his hand, directed to Mr. Willoughby in -your sister's writing. I came to inquire, but I was convinced before I -could ask the question. Is every thing finally settled? Is it -impossible to-? But I have no right, and I could have no chance of -succeeding. Excuse me, Miss Dashwood. I believe I have been wrong in -saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and on your prudence I -have the strongest dependence. Tell me that it is all absolutely -resolved on, that any attempt, that in short concealment, if -concealment be possible, is all that remains." - -These words, which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowal of his love for -her sister, affected her very much. She was not immediately able to -say anything, and even when her spirits were recovered, she debated -for a short time, on the answer it would be most proper to give. The -real state of things between Willoughby and her sister was so little -known to herself, that in endeavouring to explain it, she might be as -liable to say too much as too little. Yet as she was convinced that -Marianne's affection for Willoughby, could leave no hope of Colonel -Brandon's success, whatever the event of that affection might be, and -at the same time wished to shield her conduct from censure, she -thought it most prudent and kind, after some consideration, to say -more than she really knew or believed. She acknowledged, therefore, -that though she had never been informed by themselves of the terms on -which they stood with each other, of their mutual affection she had no -doubt, and of their correspondence she was not astonished to hear. - -He listened to her with silent attention, and on her ceasing to speak, -rose directly from his seat, and after saying in a voice of emotion, -"to your sister I wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that he -may endeavour to deserve her,"--took leave, and went away. - -Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from this conversation, to -lessen the uneasiness of her mind on other points; she was left, on -the contrary, with a melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's -unhappiness, and was prevented even from wishing it removed, by her -anxiety for the very event that must confirm it. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - - -Nothing occurred during the next three or four days, to make Elinor -regret what she had done, in applying to her mother; for Willoughby -neither came nor wrote. They were engaged about the end of that time -to attend Lady Middleton to a party, from which Mrs. Jennings was kept -away by the indisposition of her youngest daughter; and for this -party, Marianne, wholly dispirited, careless of her appearance, and -seeming equally indifferent whether she went or staid, prepared, -without one look of hope or one expression of pleasure. She sat by the -drawing-room fire after tea, till the moment of Lady Middleton's -arrival, without once stirring from her seat, or altering her -attitude, lost in her own thoughts, and insensible of her sister's -presence; and when at last they were told that Lady Middleton waited -for them at the door, she started as if she had forgotten that any one -was expected. - -They arrived in due time at the place of destination, and as soon as -the string of carriages before them would allow, alighted, ascended -the stairs, heard their names announced from one landing-place to -another in an audible voice, and entered a room splendidly lit up, -quite full of company, and insufferably hot. When they had paid their -tribute of politeness by curtsying to the lady of the house, they were -permitted to mingle in the crowd, and take their share of the heat and -inconvenience, to which their arrival must necessarily add. After some -time spent in saying little or doing less, Lady Middleton sat down to -Cassino, and as Marianne was not in spirits for moving about, she and -Elinor luckily succeeding to chairs, placed themselves at no great -distance from the table. - -They had not remained in this manner long, before Elinor perceived -Willoughby, standing within a few yards of them, in earnest -conversation with a very fashionable looking young woman. She soon -caught his eye, and he immediately bowed, but without attempting to -speak to her, or to approach Marianne, though he could not but see -her; and then continued his discourse with the same lady. Elinor -turned involuntarily to Marianne, to see whether it could be -unobserved by her. At that moment she first perceived him, and her -whole countenance glowing with sudden delight, she would have moved -towards him instantly, had not her sister caught hold of her. - -"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "he is there--he is there--Oh! why does -he not look at me? why cannot I speak to him?" - -"Pray, pray be composed," cried Elinor, "and do not betray what you -feel to every body present. Perhaps he has not observed you yet." - -This however was more than she could believe herself; and to be -composed at such a moment was not only beyond the reach of Marianne, -it was beyond her wish. She sat in an agony of impatience which -affected every feature. - -[Illustration: _At that moment she first perceived him._] - -At last he turned round again, and regarded them both; she started up, -and pronouncing his name in a tone of affection, held out her hand to -him. He approached, and addressing himself rather to Elinor than -Marianne, as if wishing to avoid her eye, and determined not to -observe her attitude, inquired in a hurried manner after Mrs. -Dashwood, and asked how long they had been in town. Elinor was robbed -of all presence of mind by such an address, and was unable to say a -word. But the feelings of her sister were instantly expressed. Her -face was crimsoned over, and she exclaimed, in a voice of the greatest -emotion, "Good God! Willoughby, what is the meaning of this? Have you -not received my letters? Will you not shake hands with me?" - -He could not then avoid it, but her touch seemed painful to him, and -he held her hand only for a moment. During all this time he was -evidently struggling for composure. Elinor watched his countenance and -saw its expression becoming more tranquil. After a moment's pause, he -spoke with calmness. - -"I did myself the honour of calling in Berkeley Street last Tuesday, -and very much regretted that I was not fortunate enough to find -yourselves and Mrs. Jennings at home. My card was not lost, I hope." - -"But have you not received my notes?" cried Marianne in the wildest -anxiety. "Here is some mistake I am sure--some dreadful mistake. What -can be the meaning of it? Tell me, Willoughby; for heaven's sake tell -me, what is the matter?" - -He made no reply; his complexion changed and all his embarrassment -returned; but as if, on catching the eye of the young lady with whom -he had been previously talking, he felt the necessity of instant -exertion, he recovered himself again, and after saying, "Yes, I had -the pleasure of receiving the information of your arrival in town, -which you were so good as to send me," turned hastily away with a -slight bow and joined his friend. - -Marianne, now looking dreadfully white, and unable to stand, sunk into -her chair, and Elinor, expecting every moment to see her faint, tried -to screen her from the observation of others, while reviving her with -lavender water. - -"Go to him, Elinor," she cried, as soon as she could speak, "and force -him to come to me. Tell him I must see him again--must speak to him -instantly. I cannot rest--I shall not have a moment's peace till this -is explained--some dreadful misapprehension or other. Oh, go to him -this moment." - -"How can that be done? No, my dearest Marianne, you must wait. This is -not the place for explanations. Wait only till tomorrow." - -With difficulty however could she prevent her from following him -herself; and to persuade her to check her agitation, to wait, at -least, with the appearance of composure, till she might speak to him -with more privacy and more effect, was impossible; for Marianne -continued incessantly to give way in a low voice to the misery of her -feelings, by exclamations of wretchedness. In a short time Elinor saw -Willoughby quit the room by the door towards the staircase, and -telling Marianne that he was gone, urged the impossibility of speaking -to him again that evening, as a fresh argument for her to be calm. She -instantly begged her sister would entreat Lady Middleton to take them -home, as she was too miserable to stay a minute longer. - -Lady Middleton, though in the middle of a rubber, on being informed -that Marianne was unwell, was too polite to object for a moment to her -wish of going away, and making over her cards to a friend, they -departed as soon as the carriage could be found. Scarcely a word was -spoken during their return to Berkeley Street. Marianne was in a -silent agony, too much oppressed even for tears; but as Mrs. Jennings -was luckily not come home, they could go directly to their own room, -where hartshorn restored her a little to herself. She was soon -undressed and in bed, and as she seemed desirous of being alone, her -sister then left her, and while she waited the return of Mrs. -Jennings, had leisure enough for thinking over the past. - -That some kind of engagement had subsisted between Willoughby and -Marianne she could not doubt, and that Willoughby was weary of it, -seemed equally clear; for however Marianne might still feed her own -wishes, _she_ could not attribute such behaviour to mistake or -misapprehension of any kind. Nothing but a thorough change of -sentiment could account for it. Her indignation would have been still -stronger than it was, had she not witnessed that embarrassment which -seemed to speak a consciousness of his own misconduct, and prevented -her from believing him so unprincipled as to have been sporting with -the affections of her sister from the first, without any design that -would bear investigation. Absence might have weakened his regard, and -convenience might have determined him to overcome it, but that such a -regard had formerly existed she could not bring herself to doubt. - -As for Marianne, on the pangs which so unhappy a meeting must already -have given her, and on those still more severe which might await her -in its probable consequence, she could not reflect without the deepest -concern. Her own situation gained in the comparison; for while she -could _esteem_ Edward as much as ever, however they might be divided -in future, her mind might be always supported. But every circumstance -that could embitter such an evil seemed uniting to heighten the misery -of Marianne in a final separation from Willoughby--in an immediate and -irreconcilable rupture with him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - - -Before the housemaid had lit their fire the next day, or the sun -gained any power over a cold, gloomy morning in January, Marianne, -only half dressed, was kneeling against one of the window-seats for -the sake of all the little light she could command from it, and -writing as fast as a continual flow of tears would permit her. In this -situation, Elinor, roused from sleep by her agitation and sobs, first -perceived her; and after observing her for a few moments with silent -anxiety, said, in a tone of the most considerate gentleness-- - -"Marianne, may I ask--" - -"No, Elinor," she replied, "ask nothing; you will soon know all." - -The sort of desperate calmness with which this was said, lasted no -longer than while she spoke, and was immediately followed by a return -of the same excessive affliction. It was some minutes before she could -go on with her letter, and the frequent bursts of grief which still -obliged her, at intervals, to withhold her pen, were proofs enough of -her feeling how more than probable it was that she was writing for the -last time to Willoughby. - -Elinor paid her every quiet and unobtrusive attention in her power; -and she would have tried to sooth and tranquilize her still more, had -not Marianne entreated her, with all the eagerness of the most nervous -irritability, not to speak to her for the world. In such -circumstances, it was better for both that they should not be long -together; and the restless state of Marianne's mind not only prevented -her from remaining in the room a moment after she was dressed, but -requiring at once solitude and continual change of place, made her -wander about the house till breakfast time, avoiding the sight of -every body. - -At breakfast she neither ate, nor attempted to eat any thing; and -Elinor's attention was then all employed, not in urging her, not in -pitying her, nor in appearing to regard her, but in endeavouring to -engage Mrs. Jennings's notice entirely to herself. - -As this was a favourite meal with Mrs. Jennings, it lasted a -considerable time, and they were just setting themselves, after it, -round the common working table, when a letter was delivered to -Marianne, which she eagerly caught from the servant, and, turning of a -death-like paleness, instantly ran out of the room. Elinor, who saw as -plainly by this, as if she had seen the direction, that it must come -from Willoughby, felt immediately such a sickness at heart as made her -hardly able to hold up her head, and sat in such a general tremor as -made her fear it impossible to escape Mrs. Jennings's notice. That -good lady, however, saw only that Marianne had received a letter from -Willoughby, which appeared to her a very good joke, and which she -treated accordingly, by hoping, with a laugh, that she would find it -to her liking. Of Elinor's distress, she was too busily employed in -measuring lengths of worsted for her rug, to see any thing at all; and -calmly continuing her talk, as soon as Marianne disappeared, she -said-- - -"Upon my word, I never saw a young woman so desperately in love in my -life! _My_ girls were nothing to her, and yet they used to be foolish -enough; but as for Miss Marianne, she is quite an altered creature. I -hope, from the bottom of my heart, he won't keep her waiting much -longer, for it is quite grievous to see her look so ill and forlorn. -Pray, when are they to be married?" - -Elinor, though never less disposed to speak than at that moment, -obliged herself to answer such an attack as this, and, therefore, -trying to smile, replied, "And have you really, Ma'am, talked yourself -into a persuasion of my sister's being engaged to Mr. Willoughby? I -thought it had been only a joke, but so serious a question seems to -imply more; and I must beg, therefore, that you will not deceive -yourself any longer. I do assure you that nothing would surprise me -more than to hear of their being going to be married." - -"For shame, for shame, Miss Dashwood! how can you talk so? Don't we -all know that it must be a match, that they were over head and ears in -love with each other from the first moment they met? Did not I see -them together in Devonshire every day, and all day long; and did not I -know that your sister came to town with me on purpose to buy wedding -clothes? Come, come, this won't do. Because you are so sly about it -yourself, you think nobody else has any senses; but it is no such -thing, I can tell you, for it has been known all over town this ever -so long. I tell every body of it and so does Charlotte." - -"Indeed, Ma'am," said Elinor, very seriously, "you are mistaken. -Indeed, you are doing a very unkind thing in spreading the report, and -you will find that you have though you will not believe me now." - -Mrs. Jennings laughed again, but Elinor had not spirits to say more, -and eager at all events to know what Willoughby had written, hurried -away to their room, where, on opening the door, she saw Marianne -stretched on the bed, almost choked by grief, one letter in her hand, -and two or three others laying by her. Elinor drew near, but without -saying a word; and seating herself on the bed, took her hand, kissed -her affectionately several times, and then gave way to a burst of -tears, which at first was scarcely less violent than Marianne's. The -latter, though unable to speak, seemed to feel all the tenderness of -this behaviour, and after some time thus spent in joint affliction, -she put all the letters into Elinor's hands; and then covering her -face with her handkerchief, almost screamed with agony. Elinor, who -knew that such grief, shocking as it was to witness it, must have its -course, watched by her till this excess of suffering had somewhat -spent itself, and then turning eagerly to Willoughby's letter, read as -follows:-- - -"Bond Street, January. - -"MY DEAR MADAM, - - "I have just had the honour of receiving your letter, for - which I beg to return my sincere acknowledgments. I am much - concerned to find there was anything in my behaviour last - night that did not meet your approbation; and though I am - quite at a loss to discover in what point I could be so - unfortunate as to offend you, I entreat your forgiveness of - what I can assure you to have been perfectly unintentional. - I shall never reflect on my former acquaintance with your - family in Devonshire without the most grateful pleasure, and - flatter myself it will not be broken by any mistake or - misapprehension of my actions. My esteem for your whole - family is very sincere; but if I have been so unfortunate as - to give rise to a belief of more than I felt, or meant to - express, I shall reproach myself for not having been more - guarded in my professions of that esteem. That I should ever - have meant more you will allow to be impossible, when you - understand that my affections have been long engaged - elsewhere, and it will not be many weeks, I believe, before - this engagement is fulfilled. It is with great regret that I - obey your commands in returning the letters with which I - have been honoured from you, and the lock of hair, which you - so obligingly bestowed on me. - -I am, dear Madam, - -Your most obedient humble servant, - -"JOHN WILLOUGHBY." - -With what indignation such a letter as this must be read by Miss -Dashwood, may be imagined. Though aware, before she began it, that it -must bring a confession of his inconstancy, and confirm their -separation for ever, she was not aware that such language could be -suffered to announce it; nor could she have supposed Willoughby -capable of departing so far from the appearance of every honourable -and delicate feeling--so far from the common decorum of a gentleman, -as to send a letter so impudently cruel: a letter which, instead of -bringing with his desire of a release any professions of regret, -acknowledged no breach of faith, denied all peculiar affection -whatever;--a letter of which every line was an insult, and which -proclaimed its writer to be deep in hardened villainy. - -She paused over it for some time with indignant astonishment; then -read it again and again; but every perusal only served to increase -her abhorrence of the man, and so bitter were her feelings against -him, that she dared not trust herself to speak, lest she might wound -Marianne still deeper by treating their disengagement, not as a loss -to her of any possible good but as an escape from the worst and most -irremediable of all evils,--a connection, for life, with an -unprincipled man, as a deliverance the most real, a blessing the most -important. - -In her earnest meditations on the contents of the letter, on the -depravity of that mind which could dictate it, and probably, on the -very different mind of a very different person, who had no other -connection whatever with the affair than what her heart gave him with -every thing that passed, Elinor forgot the immediate distress of her -sister, forgot that she had three letters on her lap yet unread, and -so entirely forgot how long she had been in the room, that when on -hearing a carriage drive up to the door, she went to the window to see -who could be coming so unreasonably early, she was all astonishment to -perceive Mrs. Jennings's chariot, which she knew had not been ordered -till one. Determined not to quit Marianne, though hopeless of -contributing, at present, to her ease, she hurried away to excuse -herself from attending Mrs. Jennings, on account of her sister being -indisposed. Mrs. Jennings, with a thoroughly good-humoured concern for -its cause, admitted the excuse most readily, and Elinor, after seeing -her safe off, returned to Marianne, whom she found attempting to rise -from the bed, and whom she reached just in time to prevent her from -falling on the floor, faint and giddy from a long want of proper rest -and food; for it was many days since she had any appetite, and many -nights since she had really slept; and now, when her mind was no -longer supported by the fever of suspense, the consequence of all this -was felt in an aching head, a weakened stomach, and a general nervous -faintness. A glass of wine, which Elinor procured for her directly, -made her more comfortable, and she was at last able to express some -sense of her kindness, by saying, "Poor Elinor! how unhappy I make -you!" - -"I only wish," replied her sister, "there were any thing I _could_ do, -which might be of comfort to you." - -This, as every thing else would have been, was too much for Marianne, -who could only exclaim, in the anguish of her heart, "Oh! Elinor, I -am miserable, indeed," before her voice was entirely lost in sobs. - -Elinor could no longer witness this torrent of unresisted grief in -silence. - -"Exert yourself, dear Marianne," she cried, "if you would not kill -yourself and all who love you. Think of your mother; think of her -misery while _you_ suffer: for her sake you must exert yourself." - -"I cannot, I cannot," cried Marianne; "leave me, leave me, if I -distress you; leave me, hate me, forget me! but do not torture me so. -Oh! how easy for those, who have no sorrow of their own to talk of -exertion! Happy, happy Elinor, _you_ cannot have an idea of what I -suffer." - -"Do you call _me_ happy, Marianne? Ah! if you knew! And can you -believe me to be so, while I see you so wretched!" - -"Forgive me, forgive me," throwing her arms round her sister's neck; -"I know you feel for me; I know what a heart you have; but yet you -are--you must be happy; Edward loves you--what, oh what, can do away -such happiness as that?" - -"Many, many circumstances," said Elinor, solemnly. - -"No, no, no," cried Marianne wildly, "he loves you, and only you. You -_can_ have no grief." - -"I can have no pleasure while I see you in this state." - -"And you will never see me otherwise. Mine is a misery which nothing -can do away." - -"You must not talk so, Marianne. Have you no comforts? no friends? Is -your loss such as leaves no opening for consolation? Much as you -suffer now, think of what you would have suffered if the discovery of -his character had been delayed to a later period;--if your engagement -had been carried on for months and months, as it might have been, -before he chose to put an end to it. Every additional day of unhappy -confidence, on your side, would have made the blow more dreadful." - -"Engagement!" cried Marianne, "there has been no engagement." - -"No engagement!" - -"No, he is not so unworthy as you believe him. He has broken no faith -with me." - -"But he told you that he loved you." - -"Yes--no--never absolutely. It was every day implied, but never -professedly declared. Sometimes I thought it had been--but it never -was." - -"Yet you wrote to him?" - -"Yes: could that be wrong after all that had passed? But I cannot -talk." - -Elinor said no more, and turning again to the three letters which now -raised a much stronger curiosity than before, directly ran over the -contents of all. The first, which was what her sister had sent him on -their arrival in town, was to this effect:-- - -"Berkeley Street, January. - - "How surprised you will be, Willoughby, on receiving this; - and I think you will feel something more than surprise, when - you know that I am in town. An opportunity of coming hither, - though with Mrs. Jennings, was a temptation we could not - resist. I wish you may receive this in time to come here - tonight, but I will not depend on it. At any rate I shall - expect you to-morrow. For the present, adieu. - -M.D." - -Her second note, which had been written on the morning after the dance -at the Middletons', was in these words:-- - - "I cannot express my disappointment in having missed you the - day before yesterday, nor my astonishment at not having - received any answer to a note which I sent you above a week - ago. I have been expecting to hear from you, and still more - to see you, every hour of the day. Pray call again as soon - as possible, and explain the reason of my having expected - this in vain. You had better come earlier another time, - because we are generally out by one. We were last night at - Lady Middleton's, where there was a dance. I have been told - that you were asked to be of the party. But could it be so? - You must be very much altered indeed since we parted, if - that could be the case, and you not there. But I will not - suppose this possible, and I hope very soon to receive your - personal assurance of its being otherwise. - -M.D." - -The contents of her last note to him were these:-- - - "What am I to imagine, Willoughby, by your behaviour last - night? Again I demand an explanation of it. I was prepared - to meet you with the pleasure which our separation naturally - produced,--with the familiarity which our intimacy at Barton - appeared to me to justify. I was repulsed indeed! I have - passed a wretched night in endeavouring to excuse a conduct - which can scarcely be called less than insulting; but though - I have not yet been able to form any reasonable apology for - your behaviour, I am perfectly ready to hear your - justification of it. You have perhaps been misinformed, or - purposely deceived, in something concerning me, which may - have lowered me in your opinion. Tell me what it is, explain - the grounds on which you acted, and I shall be satisfied, in - being able to satisfy you. It would grieve me indeed to be - obliged to think ill of you; but if I am to do it, if I am - to learn that you are not what we have hitherto believed - you, that your regard for us all was insincere, that your - behaviour to me was intended only to deceive, let it be told - as soon as possible. My feelings are at present in a state - of dreadful indecision; I wish to acquit you, but certainty - on either side will be ease to what I now suffer. If your - sentiments are no longer what they were, you will return my - notes, and the lock of my hair which is in your possession. - -M.D." - -That such letters, so full of affection and confidence, could have -been so answered, Elinor, for Willoughby's sake, would have been -unwilling to believe. But her condemnation of him did not blind her to -the impropriety of their having been written at all; and she was -silently grieving over the imprudence which had hazarded such -unsolicited proofs of tenderness, not warranted by anything preceding, -and most severely condemned by the event, when Marianne, perceiving -that she had finished the letters, observed to her that they contained -nothing but what any one would have written in the same situation. - -"I felt myself," she added, "to be as solemnly engaged to him, as if -the strictest legal covenant had bound us to each other." - -"I can believe it," said Elinor; "but unfortunately he did not feel -the same." - -"He _did_ feel the same, Elinor--for weeks and weeks he felt it. I -know he did. Whatever may have changed him now, (and nothing but the -blackest art employed against me can have done it), I was once as dear -to him as my own soul could wish. This lock of hair, which now he can -so readily give up, was begged of me with the most earnest -supplication. Had you seen his look, his manner, had you heard his -voice at that moment! Have you forgot the last evening of our being -together at Barton? The morning that we parted too! When he told me -that it might be many weeks before we met again--his distress--can I -ever forget his distress?" - -For a moment or two she could say no more; but when this emotion had -passed away, she added, in a firmer tone-- - -"Elinor, I have been cruelly used; but not by Willoughby." - -"Dearest Marianne, who but himself? By whom can he have been -instigated?" - -"By all the world, rather than by his own heart. I could rather -believe every creature of my acquaintance leagued together to ruin me -in his opinion, than believe his nature capable of such cruelty. This -woman of whom he writes--whoever she be--or any one, in short, but -your own dear self, mama, and Edward, may have been so barbarous to -bely me. Beyond you three, is there a creature in the world whom I -would not rather suspect of evil than Willoughby, whose heart I know -so well?" - -Elinor would not contend, and only replied, "Whoever may have been so -detestably your enemy, let them be cheated of their malignant triumph, -my dear sister, by seeing how nobly the consciousness of your own -innocence and good intentions supports your spirits. It is a -reasonable and laudable pride which resists such malevolence." - -"No, no," cried Marianne, "misery such as mine has no pride. I care -not who knows that I am wretched. The triumph of seeing me so may be -open to all the world. Elinor, Elinor, they who suffer little may be -proud and independent as they like--may resist insult, or return -mortification--but I cannot. I must feel--I must be wretched--and they -are welcome to enjoy the consciousness of it that can." - -"But for my mother's sake and mine--" - -"I would do more than for my own. But to appear happy when I am so -miserable--oh! who can require it?" - -Again they were both silent. Elinor was employed in walking -thoughtfully from the fire to the window, from the window to the fire, -without knowing that she received warmth from one, or discerning -objects through the other; and Marianne, seated at the foot of the -bed, with her head leaning against one of its posts, again took up -Willoughby's letter, and, after shuddering over every sentence, -exclaimed-- - -"It is too much! Oh, Willoughby, Willoughby, could this be yours! -Cruel, cruel--nothing can acquit you. Elinor, nothing can. Whatever he -might have heard against me, ought he not to have suspended his -belief? ought he not to have told me of it, to have given me the power -of clearing myself? 'The lock of hair, (repeating it from the letter,) -which you so obligingly bestowed on me'--that is unpardonable. -Willoughby, where was your heart when you wrote those words? Oh, -barbarously insolent!--Elinor, can he be justified?" - -"No, Marianne, in no possible way." - -"And yet this woman--who knows what her art may have been?--how long -it may have been premeditated, and how deeply contrived by her!--Who -is she?--Who can she be?--Whom did I ever hear him talk of as young -and attractive among his female acquaintance?--Oh! no one, no one:--he -talked to me only of myself." - -Another pause ensued; Marianne was greatly agitated, and it ended -thus:-- - -"Elinor, I must go home. I must go and comfort mama. Can not we be -gone to-morrow?" - -"To-morrow, Marianne!" - -"Yes, why should I stay here? I came only for Willoughby's sake--and -now who cares for me? Who regards me?" - -"It would be impossible to go to-morrow. We owe Mrs. Jennings much -more than civility; and civility of the commonest kind must prevent -such a hasty removal as that." - -"Well then, another day or two, perhaps; but I cannot stay here long, -I cannot stay to endure the questions and remarks of all these people. -The Middletons and Palmers--how am I to bear their pity? The pity of -such a woman as Lady Middleton! Oh, what would _he_ say to that!" - -Elinor advised her to lie down again, and for a moment she did so; but -no attitude could give her ease; and in restless pain of mind and body -she moved from one posture to another, till growing more and more -hysterical, her sister could with difficulty keep her on the bed at -all, and for some time was fearful of being constrained to call for -assistance. Some lavender drops, however, which she was at length -persuaded to take, were of use; and from that time till Mrs. Jennings -returned, she continued on the bed quiet and motionless. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - - -Mrs. Jennings came immediately to their room on her return, and -without waiting to have her request of admittance answered, opened the -door and walked in with a look of real concern. - -"How do you do my dear?" said she in a voice of great compassion to -Marianne, who turned away her face without attempting to answer. - -"How is she, Miss Dashwood? Poor thing! she looks very bad. No -wonder. Ay, it is but too true. He is to be married very soon--a -good-for-nothing fellow! I have no patience with him. Mrs. Taylor told -me of it half an hour ago, and she was told it by a particular friend -of Miss Grey herself, else I am sure I should not have believed it; -and I was almost ready to sink as it was. Well, said I, all I can say -is, that if this be true, he has used a young lady of my acquaintance -abominably ill, and I wish with all my soul his wife may plague his -heart out. And so I shall always say, my dear, you may depend on it. I -have no notion of men's going on in this way; and if ever I meet him -again, I will give him such a dressing as he has not had this many a -day. But there is one comfort, my dear Miss Marianne--he is not the -only young man in the world worth having; and with your pretty face -you will never want admirers. Well, poor thing! I won't disturb her -any longer, for she had better have her cry out at once and have done -with. The Parrys and Sandersons luckily are coming tonight you know, -and that will amuse her." - -She then went away, walking on tiptoe out of the room, as if she -supposed her young friend's affliction could be increased by noise. - -Marianne, to the surprise of her sister, determined on dining with -them. Elinor even advised her against it. But "no, she would go down; -she could bear it very well, and the bustle about her would be less." -Elinor, pleased to have her governed for a moment by such a motive, -though believing it hardly possible that she could sit out the dinner, -said no more; and adjusting her dress for her as well as she could, -while Marianne still remained on the bed, was ready to assist her into -the dining room as soon as they were summoned to it. - -When there, though looking most wretchedly, she ate more and was -calmer than her sister had expected. Had she tried to speak, or had -she been conscious of half Mrs. Jennings's well-meant but ill-judged -attentions to her, this calmness could not have been maintained; but -not a syllable escaped her lips; and the abstraction of her thoughts -preserved her in ignorance of every thing that was passing before her. - -Elinor, who did justice to Mrs. Jennings's kindness, though its -effusions were often distressing, and sometimes almost ridiculous, -made her those acknowledgments, and returned her those civilities, -which her sister could not make or return for herself. Their good -friend saw that Marianne was unhappy, and felt that every thing was -due to her which might make her at all less so. She treated her -therefore, with all the indulgent fondness of a parent towards a -favourite child on the last day of its holidays. Marianne was to have -the best place by the fire, was to be tempted to eat by every delicacy -in the house, and to be amused by the relation of all the news of the -day. Had not Elinor, in the sad countenance of her sister, seen a -check to all mirth, she could have been entertained by Mrs. Jennings's -endeavours to cure a disappointment in love, by a variety of -sweetmeats and olives, and a good fire. As soon, however, as the -consciousness of all this was forced by continual repetition on -Marianne, she could stay no longer. With a hasty exclamation of -Misery, and a sign to her sister not to follow her, she directly got -up and hurried out of the room. - -"Poor soul!" cried Mrs. Jennings, as soon as she was gone, "how it -grieves me to see her! And I declare if she is not gone away without -finishing her wine! And the dried cherries too! Lord! nothing seems to -do her any good. I am sure if I knew of any thing she would like, I -would send all over the town for it. Well, it is the oddest thing to -me, that a man should use such a pretty girl so ill! But when there -is plenty of money on one side, and next to none on the other, Lord -bless you! they care no more about such things!" - -"The lady then,--Miss Grey I think you called her,--is very rich?" - -"Fifty thousand pounds, my dear. Did you ever see her? a smart, -stylish girl they say, but not handsome. I remember her aunt very -well, Biddy Henshawe; she married a very wealthy man. But the family -are all rich together. Fifty thousand pounds! and by all accounts, it -won't come before it's wanted; for they say he is all to pieces. No -wonder! dashing about with his curricle and hunters! Well, it don't -signify talking; but when a young man, be who he will, comes and makes -love to a pretty girl, and promises marriage, he has no business to -fly off from his word only because he grows poor, and a richer girl is -ready to have him. Why don't he, in such a case, sell his horses, let -his house, turn off his servants, and make a thorough reform at once? -I warrant you, Miss Marianne would have been ready to wait till -matters came round. But that won't do nowadays; nothing in the way -of pleasure can ever be given up by the young men of this age." - -"Do you know what kind of a girl Miss Grey is? Is she said to be -amiable?" - -"I never heard any harm of her; indeed I hardly ever heard her -mentioned; except that Mrs. Taylor did say this morning, that one day -Miss Walker hinted to her, that she believed Mr. and Mrs. Ellison -would not be sorry to have Miss Grey married, for she and Mrs. Ellison -could never agree." - -"And who are the Ellisons?" - -"Her guardians, my dear. But now she is of age and may choose for -herself; and a pretty choice she has made!--What now," after pausing a -moment, "your poor sister is gone to her own room, I suppose, to moan -by herself. Is there nothing one can get to comfort her? Poor dear, it -seems quite cruel to let her be alone. Well, by and by we shall have a -few friends, and that will amuse her a little. What shall we play at? -She hates whist I know; but is there no round game she cares for?" - -"Dear ma'am, this kindness is quite unnecessary. Marianne, I dare say, -will not leave her room again this evening. I shall persuade her if I -can to go early to bed, for I am sure she wants rest." - -"Aye, I believe that will be best for her. Let her name her own -supper, and go to bed. Lord! no wonder she has been looking so bad and -so cast down this last week or two, for this matter I suppose has been -hanging over her head as long as that. And so the letter that came -today finished it! Poor soul! I am sure if I had had a notion of it, I -would not have joked her about it for all my money. But then you know, -how should I guess such a thing? I made sure of its being nothing but -a common love letter, and you know young people like to be laughed at -about them. Lord! how concerned Sir John and my daughters will be when -they hear it! If I had my senses about me I might have called in -Conduit Street in my way home, and told them of it. But I shall see -them to-morrow." - -"It would be unnecessary I am sure, for you to caution Mrs. Palmer and -Sir John against ever naming Mr. Willoughby, or making the slightest -allusion to what has passed, before my sister. Their own good-nature -must point out to them the real cruelty of appearing to know any thing -about it when she is present; and the less that may ever be said to -myself on the subject, the more my feelings will be spared, as you my -dear madam will easily believe." - -"Oh! Lord! yes, that I do indeed. It must be terrible for you to hear -it talked of; and as for your sister, I am sure I would not mention a -word about it to her for the world. You saw I did not all dinner time. -No more would Sir John, nor my daughters, for they are all very -thoughtful and considerate; especially if I give them a hint, as I -certainly will. For my part, I think the less that is said about such -things, the better, the sooner 'tis blown over and forgot. And what -does talking ever do you know?" - -"In this affair it can only do harm; more so perhaps than in many -cases of a similar kind, for it has been attended by circumstances -which, for the sake of every one concerned in it, make it unfit to -become the public conversation. I must do _this_ justice to Mr. -Willoughby--he has broken no positive engagement with my sister." - -"Law, my dear! Don't pretend to defend him. No positive engagement -indeed! after taking her all over Allenham House, and fixing on the -very rooms they were to live in hereafter!" - -Elinor, for her sister's sake, could not press the subject farther, -and she hoped it was not required of her for Willoughby's; since, -though Marianne might lose much, he could gain very little by the -enforcement of the real truth. After a short silence on both sides, -Mrs. Jennings, with all her natural hilarity, burst forth again. - -"Well, my dear, 'tis a true saying about an ill wind, for it will be -all the better for Colonel Brandon. He will have her at last; aye, -that he will. Mind me, now, if they an't married by Mid-summer. Lord! -how he'll chuckle over this news! I hope he will come tonight. It will -be all to one a better match for your sister. Two thousand a year -without debt or drawback--except the little love-child, indeed; aye, I -had forgot her; but she may be 'prenticed out at a small cost, and -then what does it signify? Delaford is a nice place, I can tell you; -exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place, full of comforts and -conveniences; quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered -with the best fruit-trees in the country; and such a mulberry tree in -one corner! Lord! how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we were -there! Then, there is a dovecote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a -very pretty canal; and every thing, in short, that one could wish for; -and, moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile -from the turnpike-road, so 'tis never dull, for if you only go and sit -up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the -carriages that pass along. Oh! 'tis a nice place! A butcher hard by in -the village, and the parsonage-house within a stone's throw. To my -fancy, a thousand times prettier than Barton Park, where they are -forced to send three miles for their meat, and have not a neighbour -nearer than your mother. Well, I shall spirit up the Colonel as soon -as I can. One shoulder of mutton, you know, drives another down. If we -_can_ but put Willoughby out of her head!" - -"Ay, if we can do that, Ma'am," said Elinor, "we shall do very well -with or without Colonel Brandon." And then rising, she went away to -join Marianne, whom she found, as she expected, in her own room, -leaning, in silent misery, over the small remains of a fire, which, -till Elinor's entrance, had been her only light. - -"You had better leave me," was all the notice that her sister received -from her. - -"I will leave you," said Elinor, "if you will go to bed." But this, -from the momentary perverseness of impatient suffering, she at first -refused to do. Her sister's earnest, though gentle persuasion, -however, soon softened her to compliance, and Elinor saw her lay her -aching head on the pillow, and as she hoped, in a way to get some -quiet rest before she left her. - -In the drawing-room, whither she then repaired, she was soon joined by -Mrs. Jennings, with a wine-glass, full of something, in her hand. - -"My dear," said she, entering, "I have just recollected that I have -some of the finest old Constantia wine in the house that ever was -tasted, so I have brought a glass of it for your sister. My poor -husband! how fond he was of it! Whenever he had a touch of his old -colicky gout, he said it did him more good than any thing else in the -world. Do take it to your sister." - -"Dear Ma'am," replied Elinor, smiling at the difference of the -complaints for which it was recommended, "how good you are! But I have -just left Marianne in bed, and, I hope, almost asleep; and as I think -nothing will be of so much service to her as rest, if you will give me -leave, I will drink the wine myself." - -Mrs. Jennings, though regretting that she had not been five minutes -earlier, was satisfied with the compromise; and Elinor, as she -swallowed the chief of it, reflected, that though its effects on a -colicky gout were, at present, of little importance to her, its -healing powers, on a disappointed heart might be as reasonably tried -on herself as on her sister. - -Colonel Brandon came in while the party were at tea, and by his manner -of looking round the room for Marianne, Elinor immediately fancied -that he neither expected nor wished to see her there, and, in short, -that he was already aware of what occasioned her absence. Mrs. -Jennings was not struck by the same thought; for soon after his -entrance, she walked across the room to the tea-table where Elinor -presided, and whispered, "The Colonel looks as grave as ever you see. -He knows nothing of it; do tell him, my dear." - -[Illustration: "_How fond he was of it!_"] - -He shortly afterwards drew a chair close to her's, and, with a look -which perfectly assured her of his good information, inquired after -her sister. - -"Marianne is not well," said she. "She has been indisposed all day, -and we have persuaded her to go to bed." - -"Perhaps, then," he hesitatingly replied, "what I heard this morning -may be--there may be more truth in it than I could believe possible at -first." - -"What did you hear?" - -"That a gentleman, whom I had reason to think--in short, that a man, -whom I _knew_ to be engaged--but how shall I tell you? If you know it -already, as surely you must, I may be spared." - -"You mean," answered Elinor, with forced calmness, "Mr. Willoughby's -marriage with Miss Grey. Yes, we _do_ know it all. This seems to have -been a day of general elucidation, for this very morning first -unfolded it to us. Mr. Willoughby is unfathomable! Where did you hear -it?" - -"In a stationer's shop in Pall Mall, where I had business. Two ladies -were waiting for their carriage, and one of them was giving the other -an account of the intended match, in a voice so little attempting -concealment, that it was impossible for me not to hear all. The name -of Willoughby, John Willoughby, frequently repeated, first caught my -attention; and what followed was a positive assertion that every thing -was now finally settled respecting his marriage with Miss Grey--it was -no longer to be a secret--it would take place even within a few weeks, -with many particulars of preparations and other matters. One thing, -especially, I remember, because it served to identify the man still -more:--as soon as the ceremony was over, they were to go to Combe -Magna, his seat in Somersetshire. My astonishment!--but it would be -impossible to describe what I felt. The communicative lady I learnt, -on inquiry,--for I stayed in the shop till they were gone,--was a Mrs. -Ellison, and that, as I have been since informed, is the name of Miss -Grey's guardian." - -"It is. But have you likewise heard that Miss Grey has fifty thousand -pounds? In that, if in any thing, we may find an explanation." - -"It may be so; but Willoughby is capable--at least I think--" He -stopped a moment; then added in a voice which seemed to distrust -itself, "And your sister,--how did she,--" - -"Her sufferings have been very severe. I have only to hope that they -may be proportionately short. It has been, it is a most cruel -affliction. Till yesterday, I believe, she never doubted his regard; -and even now, perhaps--but _I_ am almost convinced that he never was -really attached to her. He has been very deceitful! and, in some -points, there seems a hardness of heart about him." - -"Ah!" said Colonel Brandon, "there is, indeed! But your sister does -not--I think you said so--she does not consider quite as you do?" - -"You know her disposition, and may believe how eagerly she would still -justify him if she could." - -He made no answer; and soon afterwards, by the removal of the -tea-things, and the arrangement of the card parties, the subject was -necessarily dropped. Mrs. Jennings, who had watched them with pleasure -while they were talking, and who expected to see the effect of Miss -Dashwood's communication, in such an instantaneous gaiety on Colonel -Brandon's side, as might have become a man in the bloom of youth, of -hope and happiness, saw him, with amazement, remain the whole evening -more serious and thoughtful than usual. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - - -From a night of more sleep than she had expected, Marianne awoke the -next morning to the same consciousness of misery in which she had -closed her eyes. - -Elinor encouraged her as much as possible to talk of what she felt; -and before breakfast was ready, they had gone through the subject -again and again; and with the same steady conviction and affectionate -counsel on Elinor's side, the same impetuous feelings and varying -opinions on Marianne's, as before. Sometimes she could believe -Willoughby to be as unfortunate and as innocent as herself, and at -others, lost every consolation in the impossibility of acquitting him. -At one moment she was absolutely indifferent to the observation of all -the world, at another she would seclude herself from it for ever, and -at a third could resist it with energy. In one thing, however, she -was uniform, when it came to the point, in avoiding, where it was -possible, the presence of Mrs. Jennings, and in a determined silence -when obliged to endure it. Her heart was hardened against the belief -of Mrs. Jennings's entering into her sorrows with any compassion. - -"No, no, no, it cannot be," she cried; "she cannot feel. Her kindness -is not sympathy; her good-nature is not tenderness. All that she wants -is gossip, and she only likes me now because I supply it." - -Elinor had not needed this to be assured of the injustice to which her -sister was often led in her opinion of others, by the irritable -refinement of her own mind, and the too great importance placed by her -on the delicacies of a strong sensibility, and the graces of a -polished manner. Like half the rest of the world, if more than half -there be that are clever and good, Marianne, with excellent abilities -and an excellent disposition, was neither reasonable nor candid. She -expected from other people the same opinions and feelings as her own, -and she judged of their motives by the immediate effect of their -actions on herself. Thus a circumstance occurred, while the sisters -were together in their own room after breakfast, which sunk the heart -of Mrs. Jennings still lower in her estimation; because, through her -own weakness, it chanced to prove a source of fresh pain to herself, -though Mrs. Jennings was governed in it by an impulse of the utmost -good-will. - -With a letter in her outstretched hand, and countenance gaily smiling, -from the persuasion of bringing comfort, she entered their room, -saying-- - -"Now, my dear, I bring you something that I am sure will do you good." - -Marianne heard enough. In one moment her imagination placed before her -a letter from Willoughby, full of tenderness and contrition, -explanatory of all that had passed, satisfactory, convincing; and -instantly followed by Willoughby himself, rushing eagerly into the -room to enforce, at her feet, by the eloquence of his eyes, the -assurances of his letter. The work of one moment was destroyed by the -next. The hand writing of her mother, never till then unwelcome, was -before her; and, in the acuteness of the disappointment which followed -such an ecstasy of more than hope, she felt as if, till that instant, -she had never suffered. - -The cruelty of Mrs. Jennings, no language, within her reach in her -moments of happiest eloquence, could have expressed; and now she could -reproach her only by the tears which streamed from her eyes with -passionate violence;--a reproach, however, so entirely lost on its -object, that after many expressions of pity, she withdrew, still -referring her to the letter of comfort. But the letter, when she was -calm enough to read it, brought little comfort. Willoughby filled -every page. Her mother, still confident of their engagement, and -relying as warmly as ever on his constancy, had only been roused by -Elinor's application, to entreat from Marianne greater openness -towards them both; and this, with such tenderness towards her, such -affection for Willoughby, and such a conviction of their future -happiness in each other, that she wept with agony through the whole of -it. - -All her impatience to be at home again now returned; her mother was -dearer to her than ever; dearer through the very excess of her -mistaken confidence in Willoughby, and she was wildly urgent to be -gone. Elinor, unable herself to determine whether it were better for -Marianne to be in London or at Barton, offered no counsel of her own -except of patience till their mother's wishes could be known; and at -length she obtained her sister's consent to wait for that knowledge. - -Mrs. Jennings left them earlier than usual; for she could not be easy -till the Middletons and Palmers were able to grieve as much as -herself; and positively refusing Elinor's offered attendance, went out -alone for the rest of the morning. Elinor, with a very heavy heart, -aware of the pain she was going to communicate, and perceiving, by -Marianne's letter, how ill she had succeeded in laying any foundation -for it, then sat down to write her mother an account of what had -passed, and entreat her directions for the future; while Marianne, who -came into the drawing-room on Mrs. Jennings's going away, remained -fixed at the table where Elinor wrote, watching the advancement of her -pen, grieving over her for the hardship of such a task, and grieving -still more fondly over its effect on her mother. - -In this manner they had continued about a quarter of an hour, when -Marianne, whose nerves could not then bear any sudden noise, was -startled by a rap at the door. - -"Who can this be?" cried Elinor. "So early too! I thought we _had_ -been safe." - -Marianne moved to the window-- - -"It is Colonel Brandon!" said she, with vexation. "We are never safe -from _him._" - -"He will not come in, as Mrs. Jennings is from home." - -"I will not trust to _that_," retreating to her own room. "A man who -has nothing to do with his own time has no conscience in his intrusion -on that of others." - -The event proved her conjecture right, though it was founded on -injustice and error; for Colonel Brandon _did_ come in; and Elinor, -who was convinced that solicitude for Marianne brought him thither, -and who saw _that_ solicitude in his disturbed and melancholy look, -and in his anxious though brief inquiry after her, could not forgive -her sister for esteeming him so lightly. - -"I met Mrs. Jennings in Bond Street," said he, after the first -salutation, "and she encouraged me to come on; and I was the more -easily encouraged, because I thought it probable that I might find you -alone, which I was very desirous of doing. My object--my wish--my sole -wish in desiring it--I hope, I believe it is--is to be a means of -giving comfort;--no, I must not say comfort--not present comfort--but -conviction, lasting conviction to your sister's mind. My regard for -her, for yourself, for your mother--will you allow me to prove it, by -relating some circumstances which nothing but a _very_ sincere -regard--nothing but an earnest desire of being useful--I think I am -justified--though where so many hours have been spent in convincing -myself that I am right, is there not some reason to fear I may be -wrong?" He stopped. - -"I understand you," said Elinor. "You have something to tell me of Mr. -Willoughby, that will open his character farther. Your telling it will -be the greatest act of friendship that can be shown Marianne. _My_ -gratitude will be insured immediately by any information tending to -that end, and _hers_ must be gained by it in time. Pray, pray let me -hear it." - -"You shall; and, to be brief, when I quitted Barton last October,--but -this will give you no idea--I must go farther back. You will find me a -very awkward narrator, Miss Dashwood; I hardly know where to begin. A -short account of myself, I believe, will be necessary, and it _shall_ -be a short one. On such a subject," sighing heavily, "can I have -little temptation to be diffuse." - -He stopt a moment for recollection, and then, with another sigh, went -on. - -"You have probably entirely forgotten a conversation--(it is not to be -supposed that it could make any impression on you)--a conversation -between us one evening at Barton Park--it was the evening of a -dance--in which I alluded to a lady I had once known, as resembling, -in some measure, your sister Marianne." - -"Indeed," answered Elinor, "I have _not_ forgotten it." He looked -pleased by this remembrance, and added-- - -"If I am not deceived by the uncertainty, the partiality of tender -recollection, there is a very strong resemblance between them, as well -in mind as person. The same warmth of heart, the same eagerness of -fancy and spirits. This lady was one of my nearest relations, an -orphan from her infancy, and under the guardianship of my father. Our -ages were nearly the same, and from our earliest years we were -playfellows and friends. I cannot remember the time when I did not -love Eliza; and my affection for her, as we grew up, was such, as -perhaps, judging from my present forlorn and cheerless gravity, you -might think me incapable of having ever felt. Her's, for me, was, I -believe, fervent as the attachment of your sister to Mr. Willoughby -and it was, though from a different cause, no less unfortunate. At -seventeen she was lost to me for ever. She was married--married -against her inclination to my brother. Her fortune was large, and our -family estate much encumbered. And this, I fear, is all that can be -said for the conduct of one, who was at once her uncle and guardian. -My brother did not deserve her; he did not even love her. I had hoped -that her regard for me would support her under any difficulty, and for -some time it did; but at last the misery of her situation, for she -experienced great unkindness, overcame all her resolution, and though -she had promised me that nothing--but how blindly I relate! I have -never told you how this was brought on. We were within a few hours of -eloping together for Scotland. The treachery, or the folly, of my -cousin's maid betrayed us. I was banished to the house of a relation -far distant, and she was allowed no liberty, no society, no amusement, -till my father's point was gained. I had depended on her fortitude too -far, and the blow was a severe one, but had her marriage been happy, -so young as I then was, a few months must have reconciled me to it, -or at least I should not have now to lament it. This however was not -the case. My brother had no regard for her; his pleasures were not -what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her -unkindly. The consequence of this, upon a mind so young, so lively, so -inexperienced as Mrs. Brandon's, was but too natural. She resigned -herself at first to all the misery of her situation; and happy had it -been if she had not lived to overcome those regrets which the -remembrance of me occasioned. But can we wonder that, with such a -husband to provoke inconstancy, and without a friend to advise or -restrain her (for my father lived only a few months after their -marriage, and I was with my regiment in the East Indies) she should -fall? Had I remained in England, perhaps--but I meant to promote the -happiness of both by removing from her for years, and for that purpose -had procured my exchange. The shock which her marriage had given me," -he continued, in a voice of great agitation, "was of trifling -weight--was nothing to what I felt when I heard, about two years -afterwards, of her divorce. It was _that_ which threw this -gloom,--even now the recollection of what I suffered--" - -He could say no more, and rising hastily walked for a few minutes -about the room. Elinor, affected by his relation, and still more by -his distress, could not speak. He saw her concern, and coming to her, -took her hand, pressed it, and kissed it with grateful respect. A few -minutes more of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure. - -"It was nearly three years after this unhappy period before I returned -to England. My first care, when I _did_ arrive, was of course to seek -for her; but the search was as fruitless as it was melancholy. I could -not trace her beyond her first seducer, and there was every reason to -fear that she had removed from him only to sink deeper in a life of -sin. Her legal allowance was not adequate to her fortune, nor -sufficient for her comfortable maintenance, and I learnt from my -brother that the power of receiving it had been made over some months -before to another person. He imagined, and calmly could he imagine it, -that her extravagance, and consequent distress, had obliged her to -dispose of it for some immediate relief. At last, however, and after I -had been six months in England, I _did_ find her. Regard for a former -servant of my own, who had since fallen into misfortune, carried me -to visit him in a spunging-house, where he was confined for debt; and -there, in the same house, under a similar confinement, was my -unfortunate sister. So altered--so faded--worn down by acute suffering -of every kind! hardly could I believe the melancholy and sickly figure -before me, to be the remains of the lovely, blooming, healthful girl, -on whom I had once doted. What I endured in so beholding her--but I -have no right to wound your feelings by attempting to describe it--I -have pained you too much already. That she was, to all appearance, in -the last stage of a consumption, was--yes, in such a situation it was -my greatest comfort. Life could do nothing for her, beyond giving time -for a better preparation for death; and that was given. I saw her -placed in comfortable lodgings, and under proper attendants; I visited -her every day during the rest of her short life: I was with her in her -last moments." - -Again he stopped to recover himself; and Elinor spoke her feelings in -an exclamation of tender concern, at the fate of his unfortunate -friend. - -"Your sister, I hope, cannot be offended," said he, "by the -resemblance I have fancied between her and my poor disgraced relation. -Their fates, their fortunes, cannot be the same; and had the natural -sweet disposition of the one been guarded by a firmer mind, or a -happier marriage, she might have been all that you will live to see -the other be. But to what does all this lead? I seem to have been -distressing you for nothing. Ah! Miss Dashwood--a subject such as -this--untouched for fourteen years--it is dangerous to handle it at -all! I _will_ be more collected--more concise. She left to my care her -only child, a little girl, the offspring of her first guilty -connection, who was then about three years old. She loved the child, -and had always kept it with her. It was a valued, a precious trust to -me; and gladly would I have discharged it in the strictest sense, by -watching over her education myself, had the nature of our situations -allowed it; but I had no family, no home; and my little Eliza was -therefore placed at school. I saw her there whenever I could, and -after the death of my brother, (which happened about five years ago, -and which left to me the possession of the family property,) she -visited me at Delaford. I called her a distant relation; but I am -well aware that I have in general been suspected of a much nearer -connection with her. It is now three years ago (she had just reached -her fourteenth year,) that I removed her from school, to place her -under the care of a very respectable woman, residing in Dorsetshire, -who had the charge of four or five other girls of about the same time -of life; and for two years I had every reason to be pleased with her -situation. But last February, almost a twelvemonth back, she suddenly -disappeared. I had allowed her, (imprudently, as it has since turned -out,) at her earnest desire, to go to Bath with one of her young -friends, who was attending her father there for his health. I knew him -to be a very good sort of man, and I thought well of his -daughter--better than she deserved, for, with a most obstinate and -ill-judged secrecy, she would tell nothing, would give no clue, though -she certainly knew all. He, her father, a well-meaning, but not a -quick-sighted man, could really, I believe, give no information; for -he had been generally confined to the house, while the girls were -ranging over the town and making what acquaintance they chose; and he -tried to convince me, as thoroughly as he was convinced himself, of -his daughter's being entirely unconcerned in the business. In short, I -could learn nothing but that she was gone; all the rest, for eight -long months, was left to conjecture. What I thought, what I feared, -may be imagined; and what I suffered too." - -"Good heavens!" cried Elinor, "could it be--could Willoughby!"-- - -"The first news that reached me of her," he continued, "came in a -letter from herself, last October. It was forwarded to me from -Delaford, and I received it on the very morning of our intended party -to Whitwell; and this was the reason of my leaving Barton so suddenly, -which I am sure must at the time have appeared strange to every body, -and which I believe gave offence to some. Little did Mr. Willoughby -imagine, I suppose, when his looks censured me for incivility in -breaking up the party, that I was called away to the relief of one -whom he had made poor and miserable; but _had_ he known it, what would -it have availed? Would he have been less gay or less happy in the -smiles of your sister? No, he had already done that, which no man who -_can_ feel for another would do. He had left the girl whose youth and -innocence he had seduced, in a situation of the utmost distress, with -no creditable home, no help, no friends, ignorant of his address! He -had left her, promising to return; he neither returned, nor wrote, nor -relieved her." - -"This is beyond every thing!" exclaimed Elinor. - -"His character is now before you; expensive, dissipated, and worse -than both. Knowing all this, as I have now known it many weeks, guess -what I must have felt on seeing your sister as fond of him as ever, -and on being assured that she was to marry him: guess what I must have -felt for all your sakes. When I came to you last week and found you -alone, I came determined to know the truth; though irresolute what to -do when it _was_ known. My behaviour must have seemed strange to you -then; but now you will comprehend it. To suffer you all to be so -deceived; to see your sister--but what could I do? I had no hope of -interfering with success; and sometimes I thought your sister's -influence might yet reclaim him. But now, after such dishonorable -usage, who can tell what were his designs on her. Whatever they may -have been, however, she may now, and hereafter doubtless _will_, turn -with gratitude towards her own condition, when she compares it with -that of my poor Eliza, when she considers the wretched and hopeless -situation of this poor girl, and pictures her to herself, with an -affection for him so strong, still as strong as her own, and with a -mind tormented by self-reproach, which must attend her through life. -Surely this comparison must have its use with her. She will feel her -own sufferings to be nothing. They proceed from no misconduct, and can -bring no disgrace. On the contrary, every friend must be made still -more her friend by them. Concern for her unhappiness, and respect for -her fortitude under it, must strengthen every attachment. Use your own -discretion, however, in communicating to her what I have told you. You -must know best what will be its effect; but had I not seriously, and -from my heart believed it might be of service, might lessen her -regrets, I would not have suffered myself to trouble you with this -account of my family afflictions, with a recital which may seem to -have been intended to raise myself at the expense of others." - -Elinor's thanks followed this speech with grateful earnestness; -attended too with the assurance of her expecting material advantage -to Marianne, from the communication of what had passed. - -"I have been more pained," said she, "by her endeavors to acquit him -than by all the rest; for it irritates her mind more than the most -perfect conviction of his unworthiness can do. Now, though at first -she will suffer much, I am sure she will soon become easier. Have -you," she continued, after a short silence, "ever seen Mr. Willoughby -since you left him at Barton?" - -"Yes," he replied gravely, "once I have. One meeting was unavoidable." - -Elinor, startled by his manner, looked at him anxiously, saying-- - -"What? have you met him to--" - -"I could meet him no other way. Eliza had confessed to me, though most -reluctantly, the name of her lover; and when he returned to town, -which was within a fortnight after myself, we met by appointment, he -to defend, I to punish his conduct. We returned unwounded, and the -meeting, therefore, never got abroad." - -Elinor sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a -soldier she presumed not to censure it. - -"Such," said Colonel Brandon, after a pause, "has been the unhappy -resemblance between the fate of mother and daughter! and so -imperfectly have I discharged my trust!" - -"Is she still in town?" - -"No; as soon as she recovered from her lying-in, for I found her near -her delivery, I removed her and her child into the country, and there -she remains." - -Recollecting, soon afterwards, that he was probably dividing Elinor -from her sister, he put an end to his visit, receiving from her again -the same grateful acknowledgments, and leaving her full of compassion -and esteem for him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - - -When the particulars of this conversation were repeated by Miss -Dashwood to her sister, as they very soon were, the effect on her was -not entirely such as the former had hoped to see. Not that Marianne -appeared to distrust the truth of any part of it, for she listened to -it all with the most steady and submissive attention, made neither -objection nor remark, attempted no vindication of Willoughby, and -seemed to show by her tears that she felt it to be impossible. But -though this behaviour assured Elinor that the conviction of this guilt -_was_ carried home to her mind, though she saw with satisfaction the -effect of it, in her no longer avoiding Colonel Brandon when he -called, in her speaking to him, even voluntarily speaking, with a kind -of compassionate respect, and though she saw her spirits less -violently irritated than before, she did not see her less wretched. -Her mind did become settled, but it was settled in a gloomy dejection. -She felt the loss of Willoughby's character yet more heavily than she -had felt the loss of his heart; his seduction and desertion of Miss -Williams, the misery of that poor girl, and the doubt of what his -designs might _once_ have been on herself, preyed altogether so much -on her spirits, that she could not bring herself to speak of what she -felt even to Elinor; and, brooding over her sorrows in silence, gave -more pain to her sister than could have been communicated by the most -open and most frequent confession of them. - -To give the feelings or the language of Mrs. Dashwood on receiving and -answering Elinor's letter would be only to give a repetition of what -her daughters had already felt and said; of a disappointment hardly -less painful than Marianne's, and an indignation even greater than -Elinor's. Long letters from her, quickly succeeding each other, -arrived to tell all that she suffered and thought; to express her -anxious solicitude for Marianne, and entreat she would bear up with -fortitude under this misfortune. Bad indeed must the nature of -Marianne's affliction be, when her mother could talk of fortitude! -mortifying and humiliating must be the origin of those regrets, which -_she_ could wish her not to indulge! - -Against the interest of her own individual comfort, Mrs. Dashwood had -determined that it would be better for Marianne to be any where, at -that time, than at Barton, where every thing within her view would be -bringing back the past in the strongest and most afflicting manner, by -constantly placing Willoughby before her, such as she had always seen -him there. She recommended it to her daughters, therefore, by all -means not to shorten their visit to Mrs. Jennings; the length of -which, though never exactly fixed, had been expected by all to -comprise at least five or six weeks. A variety of occupations, of -objects, and of company, which could not be procured at Barton, would -be inevitable there, and might yet, she hoped, cheat Marianne, at -times, into some interest beyond herself, and even into some -amusement, much as the ideas of both might now be spurned by her. - -From all danger of seeing Willoughby again, her mother considered her -to be at least equally safe in town as in the country, since his -acquaintance must now be dropped by all who called themselves her -friends. Design could never bring them in each other's way: negligence -could never leave them exposed to a surprise; and chance had less in -its favour in the crowd of London than even in the retirement of -Barton, where it might force him before her while paying that visit at -Allenham on his marriage, which Mrs. Dashwood, from foreseeing at -first as a probable event, had brought herself to expect as a certain -one. - -She had yet another reason for wishing her children to remain where -they were; a letter from her son-in-law had told her that he and his -wife were to be in town before the middle of February, and she judged -it right that they should sometimes see their brother. - -Marianne had promised to be guided by her mother's opinion, and she -submitted to it therefore without opposition, though it proved -perfectly different from what she wished and expected, though she felt -it to be entirely wrong, formed on mistaken grounds, and that by -requiring her longer continuance in London it deprived her of the only -possible alleviation of her wretchedness, the personal sympathy of her -mother, and doomed her to such society and such scenes as must prevent -her ever knowing a moment's rest. - -But it was a matter of great consolation to her, that what brought -evil to herself would bring good to her sister; and Elinor, on the -other hand, suspecting that it would not be in her power to avoid -Edward entirely, comforted herself by thinking, that though their -longer stay would therefore militate against her own happiness, it -would be better for Marianne than an immediate return into Devonshire. - -Her carefulness in guarding her sister from ever hearing Willoughby's -name mentioned, was not thrown away. Marianne, though without knowing -it herself, reaped all its advantage; for neither Mrs. Jennings, nor -Sir John, nor even Mrs. Palmer herself, ever spoke of him before her. -Elinor wished that the same forbearance could have extended towards -herself, but that was impossible, and she was obliged to listen day -after day to the indignation of them all. - -Sir John, could not have thought it possible. "A man of whom he had -always had such reason to think well! Such a good-natured fellow! He -did not believe there was a bolder rider in England! It was an -unaccountable business. He wished him at the devil with all his heart. -He would not speak another word to him, meet him where he might, for -all the world! No, not if it were to be by the side of Barton covert, -and they were kept watching for two hours together. Such a scoundrel -of a fellow! such a deceitful dog! It was only the last time they met -that he had offered him one of Folly's puppies! and this was the end -of it!" - -Mrs. Palmer, in her way, was equally angry. "She was determined to -drop his acquaintance immediately, and she was very thankful that she -had never been acquainted with him at all. She wished with all her -heart Combe Magna was not so near Cleveland; but it did not signify, -for it was a great deal too far off to visit; she hated him so much -that she was resolved never to mention his name again, and she should -tell everybody she saw, how good-for-nothing he was." - -The rest of Mrs. Palmer's sympathy was shown in procuring all the -particulars in her power of the approaching marriage, and -communicating them to Elinor. She could soon tell at what coachmaker's -the new carriage was building, by what painter Mr. Willoughby's -portrait was drawn, and at what warehouse Miss Grey's clothes might be -seen. - -[Illustration: _Offered him one of Folly's puppies._] - -The calm and polite unconcern of Lady Middleton on the occasion was a -happy relief to Elinor's spirits, oppressed as they often were by -the clamorous kindness of the others. It was a great comfort to her to -be sure of exciting no interest in _one_ person at least among their -circle of friends: a great comfort to know that there was _one_ who -would meet her without feeling any curiosity after particulars, or any -anxiety for her sister's health. - -Every qualification is raised at times, by the circumstances of the -moment, to more than its real value; and she was sometimes worried -down by officious condolence to rate good-breeding as more -indispensable to comfort than good-nature. - -Lady Middleton expressed her sense of the affair about once every day, -or twice, if the subject occurred very often, by saying, "It is very -shocking, indeed!" and by the means of this continual though gentle -vent, was able not only to see the Miss Dashwoods from the first -without the smallest emotion, but very soon to see them without -recollecting a word of the matter; and having thus supported the -dignity of her own sex, and spoken her decided censure of what was -wrong in the other, she thought herself at liberty to attend to the -interest of her own assemblies, and therefore determined (though -rather against the opinion of Sir John) that as Mrs. Willoughby would -at once be a woman of elegance and fortune, to leave her card with her -as soon as she married. - -Colonel Brandon's delicate, unobtrusive enquiries were never unwelcome -to Miss Dashwood. He had abundantly earned the privilege of intimate -discussion of her sister's disappointment, by the friendly zeal with -which he had endeavoured to soften it, and they always conversed with -confidence. His chief reward for the painful exertion of disclosing -past sorrows and present humiliations, was given in the pitying eye -with which Marianne sometimes observed him, and the gentleness of her -voice whenever (though it did not often happen) she was obliged, or -could oblige herself to speak to him. _These_ assured him that his -exertion had produced an increase of good-will towards himself, and -_these_ gave Elinor hopes of its being farther augmented hereafter; -but Mrs. Jennings, who knew nothing of all this, who knew only that -the Colonel continued as grave as ever, and that she could neither -prevail on him to make the offer himself, nor commission her to make -it for him, began, at the end of two days, to think that, instead of -Mid-summer, they would not be married till Michaelmas, and by the end -of a week that it would not be a match at all. The good understanding -between the Colonel and Miss Dashwood seemed rather to declare that -the honours of the mulberry-tree, the canal, and the yew arbour, would -all be made over to _her_; and Mrs. Jennings had, for some time ceased -to think at all of Mrs. Ferrars. - -Early in February, within a fortnight from the receipt of Willoughby's -letter, Elinor had the painful office of informing her sister that he -was married. She had taken care to have the intelligence conveyed to -herself, as soon as it was known that the ceremony was over, as she -was desirous that Marianne should not receive the first notice of it -from the public papers, which she saw her eagerly examining every -morning. - -She received the news with resolute composure; made no observation on -it, and at first shed no tears; but after a short time they would -burst out, and for the rest of the day, she was in a state hardly less -pitiable than when she first learnt to expect the event. - -The Willoughbys left town as soon as they were married; and Elinor now -hoped, as there could be no danger of her seeing either of them, to -prevail on her sister, who had never yet left the house since the blow -first fell, to go out again by degrees as she had done before. - -About this time the two Miss Steeles, lately arrived at their cousin's -house in Bartlett's Buildings, Holborn, presented themselves again -before their more grand relations in Conduit and Berkeley Streets; and -were welcomed by them all with great cordiality. - -Elinor only was sorry to see them. Their presence always gave her -pain, and she hardly knew how to make a very gracious return to the -overpowering delight of Lucy in finding her _still_ in town. - -"I should have been quite disappointed if I had not found you here -_still_," said she repeatedly, with a strong emphasis on the word. -"But I always thought I _should_ I was almost sure you would not leave -London yet awhile; though you _told_ me, you know, at Barton, that you -should not stay above a _month._ But I thought, at the time, that you -would most likely change your mind when it came to the point. It would -have been such a great pity to have went away before your brother and -sister came. And now to be sure you will be in no _hurry_ to be gone. -I am amazingly glad you did not keep to _your word._" - -Elinor perfectly understood her, and was forced to use all her -self-command to make it appear that she did _not._ - -"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Jennings, "and how did you travel?" - -"Not in the stage, I assure you," replied Miss Steele, with quick -exultation; "we came post all the way, and had a very smart beau to -attend us. Dr. Davies was coming to town, and so we thought we'd join -him in a post-chaise; and he behaved very genteelly, and paid ten or -twelve shillings more than we did." - -"Oh, oh!" cried Mrs. Jennings; "very pretty, indeed! and the Doctor is -a single man, I warrant you." - -"There now," said Miss Steele, affectedly simpering, "everybody laughs -at me so about the Doctor, and I cannot think why. My cousins say they -are sure I have made a conquest; but for my part I declare I never -think about him from one hour's end to another. 'Lord! here comes your -beau, Nancy,' my cousin said t'other day, when she saw him crossing -the street to the house. My beau, indeed! said I--I cannot think who -you mean. The Doctor is no beau of mine." - -"Aye, aye, that is very pretty talking--but it won't do--the Doctor is -the man, I see." - -"No, indeed!" replied her cousin, with affected earnestness, "and I -beg you will contradict it, if you ever hear it talked of." - -Mrs. Jennings directly gave her the gratifying assurance that she -certainly would _not_, and Miss Steele was made completely happy. - -"I suppose you will go and stay with your brother and sister, Miss -Dashwood, when they come to town," said Lucy, returning, after a -cessation of hostile hints, to the charge. - -"No, I do not think we shall." - -"Oh, yes, I dare say you will." - -Elinor would not humour her by farther opposition. - -"What a charming thing it is that Mrs. Dashwood can spare you both for -so long a time together!" - -"Long a time, indeed!" interposed Mrs. Jennings. "Why, their visit is -but just begun!" - -[Illustration: _A very smart beau._] - -Lucy was silenced. - -"I am sorry we cannot see your sister, Miss Dashwood," said Miss -Steele. "I am sorry she is not well--" for Marianne had left the room -on their arrival. - -"You are very good. My sister will be equally sorry to miss the -pleasure of seeing you; but she has been very much plagued lately with -nervous head-aches, which make her unfit for company or conversation." - -"Oh, dear, that is a great pity! but such old friends as Lucy and -me!--I think she might see _us_; and I am sure we would not speak a -word." - -Elinor, with great civility, declined the proposal. Her sister was -perhaps laid down upon the bed, or in her dressing gown, and therefore -not able to come to them. - -"Oh, if that's all," cried Miss Steele, "we can just as well go and -see _her._" - -Elinor began to find this impertinence too much for her temper; but -she was saved the trouble of checking it, by Lucy's sharp reprimand, -which now, as on many occasions, though it did not give much sweetness -to the manners of one sister, was of advantage in governing those of -the other. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - - -After some opposition, Marianne yielded to her sister's entreaties, -and consented to go out with her and Mrs. Jennings one morning for -half an hour. She expressly conditioned, however, for paying no -visits, and would do no more than accompany them to Gray's in -Sackville Street, where Elinor was carrying on a negotiation for the -exchange of a few old-fashioned jewels of her mother. - -When they stopped at the door, Mrs. Jennings recollected that there -was a lady at the other end of the street on whom she ought to call; -and as she had no business at Gray's, it was resolved, that while her -young friends transacted their's, she should pay her visit and return -for them. - -On ascending the stairs, the Miss Dashwoods found so many people -before them in the room, that there was not a person at liberty to -tend to their orders; and they were obliged to wait. All that could be -done was, to sit down at that end of the counter which seemed to -promise the quickest succession; one gentleman only was standing -there, and it is probable that Elinor was not without hope of exciting -his politeness to a quicker despatch. But the correctness of his eye, -and the delicacy of his taste, proved to be beyond his politeness. He -was giving orders for a toothpick-case for himself, and till its size, -shape, and ornaments were determined, all of which, after examining -and debating for a quarter of an hour over every toothpick-case in the -shop, were finally arranged by his own inventive fancy, he had no -leisure to bestow any other attention on the two ladies, than what was -comprised in three or four very broad stares; a kind of notice which -served to imprint on Elinor the remembrance of a person and face, of -strong, natural, sterling insignificance, though adorned in the first -style of fashion. - -Marianne was spared from the troublesome feelings of contempt and -resentment, on this impertinent examination of their features, and on -the puppyism of his manner in deciding on all the different horrors of -the different toothpick-cases presented to his inspection, by -remaining unconscious of it all; for she was as well able to collect -her thoughts within herself, and be as ignorant of what was passing -around her, in Mr. Gray's shop, as in her own bedroom. - -At last the affair was decided. The ivory, the gold, and the pearls, -all received their appointment, and the gentleman having named the -last day on which his existence could be continued without the -possession of the toothpick-case, drew on his gloves with leisurely -care, and bestowing another glance on the Miss Dashwoods, but such a -one as seemed rather to demand than express admiration, walked off -with a happy air of real conceit and affected indifference. - -Elinor lost no time in bringing her business forward, was on the point -of concluding it, when another gentleman presented himself at her -side. She turned her eyes towards his face, and found him with some -surprise to be her brother. - -[Illustration: _Introduced to Mrs. Jennings._] - -Their affection and pleasure in meeting was just enough to make a very -creditable appearance in Mr. Gray's shop. John Dashwood was really far -from being sorry to see his sisters again; it rather gave them -satisfaction; and his inquiries after their mother were respectful and -attentive. - -Elinor found that he and Fanny had been in town two days. - -"I wished very much to call upon you yesterday," said he, "but it was -impossible, for we were obliged to take Harry to see the wild beasts -at Exeter Exchange; and we spent the rest of the day with Mrs. -Ferrars. Harry was vastly pleased. _This_ morning I had fully intended -to call on you, if I could possibly find a spare half hour, but one -has always so much to do on first coming to town. I am come here to -bespeak Fanny a seal. But tomorrow I think I shall certainly be able -to call in Berkeley Street, and be introduced to your friend Mrs. -Jennings. I understand she is a woman of very good fortune. And the -Middletons too, you must introduce me to _them_. As my mother-in-law's -relations, I shall be happy to show them every respect. They are -excellent neighbours to you in the country, I understand." - -"Excellent indeed. Their attention to our comfort, their friendliness -in every particular, is more than I can express." - -"I am extremely glad to hear it, upon my word; extremely glad indeed. -But so it ought to be; they are people of large fortune, they are -related to you, and every civility and accommodation that can serve to -make your situation pleasant might be reasonably expected. And so you -are most comfortably settled in your little cottage and want for -nothing! Edward brought us a most charming account of the place: the -most complete thing of its kind, he said, that ever was, and you all -seemed to enjoy it beyond any thing. It was a great satisfaction to us -to hear it, I assure you." - -Elinor did feel a little ashamed of her brother; and was not sorry to -be spared the necessity of answering him, by the arrival of Mrs. -Jennings's servant, who came to tell her that his mistress waited for -them at the door. - -Mr. Dashwood attended them down stairs, was introduced to Mrs. -Jennings at the door of her carriage, and repeating his hope of being -able to call on them the next day, took leave. - -[Illustration: _Mrs. Jennings assured him directly that she should not -stand upon ceremony._] - -His visit was duly paid. He came with a pretence at an apology from -their sister-in-law, for not coming too; "but she was so much engaged -with her mother, that really she had no leisure for going any where." -Mrs. Jennings, however, assured him directly, that she should not -stand upon ceremony, for they were all cousins, or something like -it, and she should certainly wait on Mrs. John Dashwood very soon, and -bring her sisters to see her. His manners to _them_, though calm, were -perfectly kind; to Mrs. Jennings, most attentively civil; and on -Colonel Brandon's coming in soon after himself, he eyed him with a -curiosity which seemed to say, that he only wanted to know him to be -rich, to be equally civil to _him._ - -After staying with them half an hour, he asked Elinor to walk with him -to Conduit Street, and introduce him to Sir John and Lady Middleton. -The weather was remarkably fine, and she readily consented. As soon as -they were out of the house, his enquiries began. - -"Who is Colonel Brandon? Is he a man of fortune?" - -"Yes; he has very good property in Dorsetshire." - -"I am glad of it. He seems a most gentlemanlike man; and I think, -Elinor, I may congratulate you on the prospect of a very respectable -establishment in life." - -"Me, brother! what do you mean?" - -"He likes you. I observed him narrowly, and am convinced of it. What -is the amount of his fortune?" - -"I believe about two thousand a year." - -"Two thousand a-year;" and then working himself up to a pitch of -enthusiastic generosity, he added, "Elinor, I wish with all my heart -it were _twice_ as much, for your sake." - -"Indeed I believe you," replied Elinor; "but I am very sure that -Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish of marrying _me._ - -"You are mistaken, Elinor; you are very much mistaken. A very little -trouble on your side secures him. Perhaps just at present he may be -undecided; the smallness of your fortune may make him hang back; his -friends may all advise him against it. But some of those little -attentions and encouragements which ladies can so easily give will fix -him, in spite of himself. And there can be no reason why you should -not try for him. It is not to be supposed that any prior attachment on -your side--in short, you know as to an attachment of that kind, it is -quite out of the question, the objections are insurmountable--you have -too much sense not to see all that. Colonel Brandon must be the man; -and no civility shall be wanting on my part to make him pleased with -you and your family. It is a match that must give universal -satisfaction. In short, it is a kind of thing that," lowering his -voice to an important whisper, "will be exceedingly welcome to _all -parties._" Recollecting himself, however, he added, "That is, I mean -to say--your friends are all truly anxious to see you well settled; -Fanny particularly, for she has your interest very much at heart, I -assure you. And her mother too, Mrs. Ferrars, a very good-natured -woman, I am sure it would give her great pleasure; she said as much -the other day." - -Elinor would not vouchsafe any answer. - -"It would be something remarkable, now," he continued, "something -droll, if Fanny should have a brother and I a sister settling at the -same time. And yet it is not very unlikely." - -"Is Mr. Edward Ferrars," said Elinor, with resolution, "going to be -married?" - -"It is not actually settled, but there is such a thing in agitation. -He has a most excellent mother. Mrs. Ferrars, with the utmost -liberality, will come forward, and settle on him a thousand a year, if -the match takes place. The lady is the Hon. Miss Morton, only daughter -of the late Lord Morton, with thirty thousand pounds. A very desirable -connection on both sides, and I have not a doubt of its taking place -in time. A thousand a-year is a great deal for a mother to give away, -to make over for ever; but Mrs. Ferrars has a noble spirit. To give -you another instance of her liberality:--The other day, as soon as we -came to town, aware that money could not be very plenty with us just -now, she put bank-notes into Fanny's hands to the amount of two -hundred pounds. And extremely acceptable it is, for we must live at a -great expense while we are here." - -He paused for her assent and compassion; and she forced herself to -say-- - -"Your expenses both in town and country must certainly be -considerable; but your income is a large one." - -"Not so large, I dare say, as many people suppose. I do not mean to -complain, however; it is undoubtedly a comfortable one, and I hope -will in time be better. The enclosure of Norland Common, now carrying -on, is a most serious drain. And then I have made a little purchase -within this half year; East Kingham Farm, you must remember the place, -where old Gibson used to live. The land was so very desirable for me -in every respect, so immediately adjoining my own property, that I -felt it my duty to buy it. I could not have answered it to my -conscience to let it fall into any other hands. A man must pay for his -convenience; and it _has_ cost me a vast deal of money." - -"More than you think it really and intrinsically worth." - -"Why, I hope not that. I might have sold it again, the next day, for -more than I gave: but, with regard to the purchase-money, I might have -been very unfortunate indeed; for the stocks were at that time so low, -that if I had not happened to have the necessary sum in my banker's -hands, I must have sold out to very great loss." - -Elinor could only smile. - -"Other great and inevitable expenses too we have had on first coming -to Norland. Our respected father, as you well know, bequeathed all the -Stanhill effects that remained at Norland (and very valuable they -were) to your mother. Far be it from me to repine at his doing so; he -had an undoubted right to dispose of his own property as he chose, -but, in consequence of it, we have been obliged to make large -purchases of linen, china, &c. to supply the place of what was taken -away. You may guess, after all these expenses, how very far we must be -from being rich, and how acceptable Mrs. Ferrars's kindness is." - -"Certainly," said Elinor; "and assisted by her liberality, I hope you -may yet live to be in easy circumstances." - -"Another year or two may do much towards it," he gravely replied; "but -however there is still a great deal to be done. There is not a stone -laid of Fanny's green-house, and nothing but the plan of the -flower-garden marked out." - -"Where is the green-house to be?" - -"Upon the knoll behind the house. The old walnut trees are all come -down to make room for it. It will be a very fine object from many -parts of the park, and the flower-garden will slope down just before -it, and be exceedingly pretty. We have cleared away all the old thorns -that grew in patches over the brow." - -Elinor kept her concern and her censure to herself; and was very -thankful that Marianne was not present, to share the provocation. - -Having now said enough to make his poverty clear, and to do away the -necessity of buying a pair of ear-rings for each of his sisters, in -his next visit at Gray's his thoughts took a cheerfuller turn, and he -began to congratulate Elinor on having such a friend as Mrs. Jennings. - -"She seems a most valuable woman indeed--Her house, her style of -living, all bespeak an exceeding good income; and it is an -acquaintance that has not only been of great use to you hitherto, but -in the end may prove materially advantageous. Her inviting you to town -is certainly a vast thing in your favour; and indeed, it speaks -altogether so great a regard for you, that in all probability when she -dies you will not be forgotten. She must have a great deal to leave." - -"Nothing at all, I should rather suppose; for she has only her -jointure, which will descend to her children." - -"But it is not to be imagined that she lives up to her income. Few -people of common prudence will do _that_; and whatever she saves, she -will be able to dispose of." - -"And do you not think it more likely that she should leave it to her -daughters, than to us?" - -"Her daughters are both exceedingly well married, and therefore I -cannot perceive the necessity of her remembering them farther. -Whereas, in my opinion, by her taking so much notice of you, and -treating you in this kind of way, she has given you a sort of claim on -her future consideration, which a conscientious woman would not -disregard. Nothing can be kinder than her behaviour; and she can -hardly do all this, without being aware of the expectation it raises." - -"But she raises none in those most concerned. Indeed, brother, your -anxiety for our welfare and prosperity carries you too far." - -"Why, to be sure," said he, seeming to recollect himself, "people have -little, have very little in their power. But, my dear Elinor, what is -the matter with Marianne?--she looks very unwell, has lost her colour, -and is grown quite thin. Is she ill?" - -"She is not well, she has had a nervous complaint on her for several -weeks." - -"I am sorry for that. At her time of life, any thing of an illness -destroys the bloom for ever! Her's has been a very short one! She was -as handsome a girl last September, as I ever saw; and as likely to -attract the man. There was something in her style of beauty, to -please them particularly. I remember Fanny used to say that she would -marry sooner and better than you did; not but what she is exceedingly -fond of _you_, but so it happened to strike her. She will be mistaken, -however. I question whether Marianne _now_, will marry a man worth -more than five or six hundred a-year, at the utmost, and I am very -much deceived if _you_ do not do better. Dorsetshire! I know very -little of Dorsetshire; but, my dear Elinor, I shall be exceedingly -glad to know more of it; and I think I can answer for your having -Fanny and myself among the earliest and best pleased of your -visitors." - -Elinor tried very seriously to convince him that there was no -likelihood of her marrying Colonel Brandon; but it was an expectation -of too much pleasure to himself to be relinquished, and he was really -resolved on seeking an intimacy with that gentleman, and promoting the -marriage by every possible attention. He had just compunction enough -for having done nothing for his sisters himself, to be exceedingly -anxious that everybody else should do a great deal; and an offer from -Colonel Brandon, or a legacy from Mrs. Jennings, was the easiest means -of atoning for his own neglect. - -They were lucky enough to find Lady Middleton at home, and Sir John -came in before their visit ended. Abundance of civilities passed on -all sides. Sir John was ready to like anybody, and though Mr. Dashwood -did not seem to know much about horses, he soon set him down as a very -good-natured fellow: while Lady Middleton saw enough of fashion in his -appearance to think his acquaintance worth having; and Mr. Dashwood -went away delighted with both. - -"I shall have a charming account to carry to Fanny," said he, as he -walked back with his sister. "Lady Middleton is really a most elegant -woman! Such a woman as I am sure Fanny will be glad to know. And Mrs. -Jennings too, an exceedingly well-behaved woman, though not so elegant -as her daughter. Your sister need not have any scruple even of -visiting _her_, which, to say the truth, has been a little the case, -and very naturally; for we only knew that Mrs. Jennings was the widow -of a man who had got all his money in a low way; and Fanny and Mrs. -Ferrars were both strongly prepossessed, that neither she nor her -daughters were such kind of women as Fanny would like to associate -with. But now I can carry her a most satisfactory account of both." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - - -Mrs. John Dashwood had so much confidence in her husband's judgment, -that she waited the very next day both on Mrs. Jennings and her -daughter; and her confidence was rewarded by finding even the former, -even the woman with whom her sisters were staying, by no means -unworthy her notice; and as for Lady Middleton, she found her one of -the most charming women in the world! - -Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. Dashwood. There was a -kind of cold hearted selfishness on both sides, which mutually -attracted them; and they sympathised with each other in an insipid -propriety of demeanor, and a general want of understanding. - -The same manners, however, which recommended Mrs. John Dashwood to the -good opinion of Lady Middleton did not suit the fancy of Mrs. -Jennings, and to _her_ she appeared nothing more than a little -proud-looking woman of uncordial address, who met her husband's -sisters without any affection, and almost without having anything to -say to them; for of the quarter of an hour bestowed on Berkeley -Street, she sat at least seven minutes and a half in silence. - -Elinor wanted very much to know, though she did not choose to ask, -whether Edward was then in town; but nothing would have induced Fanny -voluntarily to mention his name before her, till able to tell her that -his marriage with Miss Morton was resolved on, or till her husband's -expectations on Colonel Brandon were answered; because she believed -them still so very much attached to each other, that they could not be -too sedulously divided in word and deed on every occasion. The -intelligence however, which _she_ would not give, soon flowed from -another quarter. Lucy came very shortly to claim Elinor's compassion -on being unable to see Edward, though he had arrived in town with Mr. -and Mrs. Dashwood. He dared not come to Bartlett's Buildings for fear -of detection, and though their mutual impatience to meet, was not to -be told, they could do nothing at present but write. - -Edward assured them himself of his being in town, within a very short -time, by twice calling in Berkeley Street. Twice was his card found on -the table, when they returned from their morning's engagements. Elinor -was pleased that he had called; and still more pleased that she had -missed him. - -The Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted with the Middletons, -that, though not much in the habit of giving anything, they determined -to give them--a dinner; and soon after their acquaintance began, -invited them to dine in Harley Street, where they had taken a very -good house for three months. Their sisters and Mrs. Jennings were -invited likewise, and John Dashwood was careful to secure Colonel -Brandon, who, always glad to be where the Miss Dashwoods were, -received his eager civilities with some surprise, but much more -pleasure. They were to meet Mrs. Ferrars; but Elinor could not learn -whether her sons were to be of the party. The expectation of seeing -_her_, however, was enough to make her interested in the engagement; -for though she could now meet Edward's mother without that strong -anxiety which had once promised to attend such an introduction, though -she could now see her with perfect indifference as to her opinion of -herself, her desire of being in company with Mrs. Ferrars, her -curiosity to know what she was like, was as lively as ever. - -The interest with which she thus anticipated the party, was soon -afterwards increased, more powerfully than pleasantly, by her hearing -that the Miss Steeles were also to be at it. - -So well had they recommended themselves to Lady Middleton, so -agreeable had their assiduities made them to her, that though Lucy was -certainly not so elegant, and her sister not even genteel, she was as -ready as Sir John to ask them to spend a week or two in Conduit -Street; and it happened to be particularly convenient to the Miss -Steeles, as soon as the Dashwoods' invitation was known, that their -visit should begin a few days before the party took place. - -Their claims to the notice of Mrs. John Dashwood, as the nieces of -the gentleman who for many years had had the care of her brother, -might not have done much, however, towards procuring them seats at her -table; but as Lady Middleton's guests they must be welcome; and Lucy, -who had long wanted to be personally known to the family, to have a -nearer view of their characters and her own difficulties, and to have -an opportunity of endeavouring to please them, had seldom been happier -in her life, than she was on receiving Mrs. John Dashwood's card. - -On Elinor its effect was very different. She began immediately to -determine, that Edward who lived with his mother, must be asked as his -mother was, to a party given by his sister; and to see him for the -first time, after all that passed, in the company of Lucy!--she hardly -knew how she could bear it! - -These apprehensions, perhaps, were not founded entirely on reason, and -certainly not at all on truth. They were relieved however, not by her -own recollection, but by the good will of Lucy, who believed herself -to be inflicting a severe disappointment when she told her that Edward -certainly would not be in Harley Street on Tuesday, and even hoped to -be carrying the pain still farther by persuading her that he was kept -away by the extreme affection for herself, which he could not conceal -when they were together. - -The important Tuesday came that was to introduce the two young ladies -to this formidable mother-in-law. - -"Pity me, dear Miss Dashwood!" said Lucy, as they walked up the stairs -together--for the Middletons arrived so directly after Mrs. Jennings, -that they all followed the servant at the same time--"There is nobody -here but you, that can feel for me. I declare I can hardly stand. Good -gracious!--In a moment I shall see the person that all my happiness -depends on--that is to be my mother!"-- - -Elinor could have given her immediate relief by suggesting the -possibility of its being Miss Morton's mother, rather than her own, -whom they were about to behold; but instead of doing that, she assured -her, and with great sincerity, that she did pity her--to the utter -amazement of Lucy, who, though really uncomfortable herself, hoped at -least to be an object of irrepressible envy to Elinor. - -Mrs. Ferrars was a little, thin woman, upright, even to formality, in -her figure, and serious, even to sourness, in her aspect. Her -complexion was sallow; and her features small, without beauty, and -naturally without expression; but a lucky contraction of the brow had -rescued her countenance from the disgrace of insipidity, by giving it -the strong characters of pride and ill nature. She was not a woman of -many words; for, unlike people in general, she proportioned them to -the number of her ideas; and of the few syllables that did escape her, -not one fell to the share of Miss Dashwood, whom she eyed with the -spirited determination of disliking her at all events. - -Elinor could not _now_ be made unhappy by this behaviour. A few months -ago it would have hurt her exceedingly; but it was not in Mrs. -Ferrars' power to distress her by it now; and the difference of her -manners to the Miss Steeles, a difference which seemed purposely made -to humble her more, only amused her. She could not but smile to see -the graciousness of both mother and daughter towards the very -person--for Lucy was particularly distinguished--whom of all others, -had they known as much as she did, they would have been most anxious -to mortify; while she herself, who had comparatively no power to wound -them, sat pointedly slighted by both. But while she smiled at a -graciousness so misapplied, she could not reflect on the mean-spirited -folly from which it sprung, nor observe the studied attentions with -which the Miss Steeles courted its continuance, without thoroughly -despising them all four. - -Lucy was all exultation on being so honorably distinguished; and Miss -Steele wanted only to be teased about Dr. Davies to be perfectly -happy. - -The dinner was a grand one, the servants were numerous, and every -thing bespoke the Mistress's inclination for show, and the Master's -ability to support it. In spite of the improvements and additions -which were making to the Norland estate, and in spite of its owner -having once been within some thousand pounds of being obliged to sell -out at a loss, nothing gave any symptom of that indigence which he had -tried to infer from it; no poverty of any kind, except of -conversation, appeared; but there, the deficiency was considerable. -John Dashwood had not much to say for himself that was worth hearing, -and his wife had still less. But there was no peculiar disgrace in -this; for it was very much the case with the chief of their visitors, -who almost all laboured under one or other of these disqualifications -for being agreeable--Want of sense, either natural or improved--want -of elegance--want of spirits--or want of temper. - -When the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room after dinner, this -poverty was particularly evident, for the gentlemen _had_ supplied the -discourse with some variety--the variety of politics, inclosing land, -and breaking horses--but then it was all over; and one subject only -engaged the ladies till coffee came in, which was the comparative -heights of Harry Dashwood, and Lady Middleton's second son William, -who were nearly of the same age. - -Had both the children been there, the affair might have been -determined too easily by measuring them at once; but as Harry only was -present, it was all conjectural assertion on both sides; and every -body had a right to be equally positive in their opinion, and to -repeat it over and over again as often as they liked. - -The parties stood thus:-- - -The two mothers, though each really convinced that her own son was the -tallest, politely decided in favour of the other. The two -grandmothers, with not less partiality, but more sincerity, were -equally earnest in support of their own descendant. - -Lucy, who was hardly less anxious to please one parent than the other, -thought the boys were both remarkably tall for their age, and could -not conceive that there could be the smallest difference in the world -between them; and Miss Steele, with yet greater address gave it, as -fast as she could, in favour of each. - -Elinor, having once delivered her opinion on William's side, by which -she offended Mrs. Ferrars and Fanny still more, did not see the -necessity of enforcing it by any farther assertion; and Marianne, when -called on for her's, offended them all, by declaring that she had no -opinion to give, as she had never thought about it. - -Before her removing from Norland, Elinor had painted a very pretty -pair of screens for her sister-in-law, which being now just mounted -and brought home, ornamented her present drawing room; and these -screens, catching the eye of John Dashwood on his following the other -gentlemen into the room, were officiously handed by him to Colonel -Brandon for his admiration. - -"These are done by my eldest sister," said he; "and you, as a man of -taste, will, I dare say, be pleased with them. I do not know whether -you have ever happened to see any of her performances before, but she -is in general reckoned to draw extremely well." - -The Colonel, though disclaiming all pretensions to connoisseurship, -warmly admired the screens, as he would have done any thing painted by -Miss Dashwood; and on the curiosity of the others being of course -excited, they were handed round for general inspection. Mrs. Ferrars, -not aware of their being Elinor's work, particularly requested to look -at them; and after they had received gratifying testimony of Lady -Middleton's approbation, Fanny presented them to her mother, -considerately informing her, at the same time, that they were done by -Miss Dashwood. - -"Hum"--said Mrs. Ferrars--"very pretty,"--and without regarding them -at all, returned them to her daughter. - -Perhaps Fanny thought for a moment that her mother had been quite rude -enough,--for, colouring a little, she immediately said-- - -"They are very pretty, ma'am--an't they?" But then again, the dread of -having been too civil, too encouraging herself, probably came over -her, for she presently added, "Do you not think they are something in -Miss Morton's style of painting, Ma'am?--She _does_ paint most -delightfully!--How beautifully her last landscape is done!" - -"Beautifully indeed! But _she_ does every thing well." - -Marianne could not bear this. She was already greatly displeased with -Mrs. Ferrars; and such ill-timed praise of another, at Elinor's -expense, though she had not any notion of what was principally meant -by it, provoked her immediately to say with warmth-- - -"This is admiration of a very particular kind! what is Miss Morton to -us? who knows, or who cares, for her?--it is Elinor of whom _we_ think -and speak." - -And so saying, she took the screens out of her sister-in-law's hands, -to admire them herself as they ought to be admired. - -[Illustration: _Mrs. Ferrars._] - -Mrs. Ferrars looked exceedingly angry, and drawing herself up more -stiffly than ever, pronounced in retort this bitter philippic, "Miss -Morton is Lord Morton's daughter." - -Fanny looked very angry too, and her husband was all in a fright at -his sister's audacity. Elinor was much more hurt by Marianne's warmth -than she had been by what produced it; but Colonel Brandon's eyes, as -they were fixed on Marianne, declared that he noticed only what was -amiable in it, the affectionate heart which could not bear to see a -sister slighted in the smallest point. - -Marianne's feelings did not stop here. The cold insolence of Mrs. -Ferrars's general behaviour to her sister, seemed, to her, to foretell -such difficulties and distresses to Elinor, as her own wounded heart -taught her to think of with horror; and urged by a strong impulse of -affectionate sensibility, she moved after a moment, to her sister's -chair, and putting one arm round her neck, and one cheek close to -hers, said in a low, but eager, voice-- - -"Dear, dear Elinor, don't mind them. Don't let them make _you_ -unhappy." - -She could say no more; her spirits were quite overcome, and hiding her -face on Elinor's shoulder, she burst into tears. Every body's -attention was called, and almost every body was concerned. Colonel -Brandon rose up and went to them without knowing what he did. Mrs. -Jennings, with a very intelligent "Ah! poor dear," immediately gave -her her salts; and Sir John felt so desperately enraged against the -author of this nervous distress, that he instantly changed his seat to -one close by Lucy Steele, and gave her, in a whisper, a brief account -of the whole shocking affair. - -In a few minutes, however, Marianne was recovered enough to put an end -to the bustle, and sit down among the rest; though her spirits -retained the impression of what had passed, the whole evening. - -"Poor Marianne!" said her brother to Colonel Brandon, in a low voice, -as soon as he could secure his attention: "She has not such good -health as her sister,--she is very nervous,--she has not Elinor's -constitution;--and one must allow that there is something very trying -to a young woman who _has been_ a beauty in the loss of her personal -attractions. You would not think it perhaps, but Marianne _was_ -remarkably handsome a few months ago; quite as handsome as Elinor. Now -you see it is all gone." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - - -Elinor's curiosity to see Mrs. Ferrars was satisfied. She had found in -her every thing that could tend to make a farther connection between -the families undesirable. She had seen enough of her pride, her -meanness, and her determined prejudice against herself, to comprehend -all the difficulties that must have perplexed the engagement, and -retarded the marriage, of Edward and herself, had he been otherwise -free;--and she had seen almost enough to be thankful for her _own_ -sake, that one greater obstacle preserved her from suffering under any -other of Mrs. Ferrars's creation, preserved her from all dependence -upon her caprice, or any solicitude for her good opinion. Or at least, -if she did not bring herself quite to rejoice in Edward's being -fettered to Lucy, she determined, that had Lucy been more amiable, she -_ought_ to have rejoiced. - -She wondered that Lucy's spirits could be so very much elevated by the -civility of Mrs. Ferrars;--that her interest and her vanity should so -very much blind her as to make the attention which seemed only paid -her because she was _not Elinor_ appear a compliment to herself--or to -allow her to derive encouragement from a preference only given her, -because her real situation was unknown. But that it was so, had not -only been declared by Lucy's eyes at the time, but was declared over -again the next morning more openly, for at her particular desire, Lady -Middleton set her down in Berkeley Street on the chance of seeing -Elinor alone, to tell her how happy she was. - -The chance proved a lucky one, for a message from Mrs. Palmer soon -after she arrived, carried Mrs. Jennings away. - -"My dear friend," cried Lucy, as soon as they were by themselves, "I -come to talk to you of my happiness. Could anything be so flattering -as Mrs. Ferrars's way of treating me yesterday? So exceeding affable -as she was! You know how I dreaded the thoughts of seeing her; but the -very moment I was introduced, there was such an affability in her -behaviour as really should seem to say, she had quite took a fancy to -me. Now was not it so? You saw it all; and was not you quite struck -with it?" - -"She was certainly very civil to you." - -"Civil!--Did you see nothing but only civility?--I saw a vast deal -more. Such kindness as fell to the share of nobody but me!--No pride, -no hauteur, and your sister just the same--all sweetness and -affability!" - -Elinor wished to talk of something else, but Lucy still pressed her to -own that she had reason for her happiness; and Elinor was obliged to -go on. - -"Undoubtedly, if they had known your engagement," said she, "nothing -could be more flattering than their treatment of you;--but as that was -not the case--" - -"I guessed you would say so," replied Lucy quickly--"but there was no -reason in the world why Mrs. Ferrars should seem to like me, if she -did not, and her liking me is every thing. You shan't talk me out of -my satisfaction. I am sure it will all end well, and there will be no -difficulties at all, to what I used to think. Mrs. Ferrars is a -charming woman, and so is your sister. They are both delightful women, -indeed!--I wonder I should never hear you say how agreeable Mrs. -Dashwood was!" - -To this Elinor had no answer to make, and did not attempt any. - -"Are you ill, Miss Dashwood?--you seem low--you don't speak;--sure you -an't well." - -"I never was in better health." - -"I am glad of it with all my heart; but really you did not look it. I -should be sorry to have _you_ ill; you, that have been the greatest -comfort to me in the world!--Heaven knows what I should have done -without your friendship."-- - -Elinor tried to make a civil answer, though doubting her own success. -But it seemed to satisfy Lucy, for she directly replied-- - -"Indeed I am perfectly convinced of your regard for me, and next to -Edward's love, it is the greatest comfort I have. Poor Edward!--But -now there is one good thing, we shall be able to meet, and meet pretty -often, for Lady Middleton's delighted with Mrs. Dashwood, so we shall -be a good deal in Harley Street, I dare say, and Edward spends half -his time with his sister--besides, Lady Middleton and Mrs. Ferrars -will visit now;--and Mrs. Ferrars and your sister were both so good -to say more than once, they should always be glad to see me. They are -such charming women!--I am sure if ever you tell your sister what I -think of her, you cannot speak too high." - -But Elinor would not give her any encouragement to hope that she -_should_ tell her sister. Lucy continued. - -"I am sure I should have seen it in a moment, if Mrs. Ferrars had took -a dislike to me. If she had only made me a formal courtesy, for -instance, without saying a word, and never after had took any notice -of me, and never looked at me in a pleasant way--you know what I -mean--if I had been treated in that forbidding sort of way, I should -have gave it all up in despair. I could not have stood it. For where -she _does_ dislike, I know it is most violent." - -Elinor was prevented from making any reply to this civil triumph, by -the door's being thrown open, the servant's announcing Mr. Ferrars, -and Edward's immediately walking in. - -It was a very awkward moment; and the countenance of each showed that -it was so. They all looked exceedingly foolish; and Edward seemed to -have as great an inclination to walk out of the room again, as to -advance farther into it. The very circumstance, in its unpleasantest -form, which they would each have been most anxious to avoid, had -fallen on them. They were not only all three together, but were -together without the relief of any other person. The ladies recovered -themselves first. It was not Lucy's business to put herself forward, -and the appearance of secrecy must still be kept up. She could -therefore only _look_ her tenderness, and after slightly addressing -him, said no more. - -But Elinor had more to do; and so anxious was she, for his sake and -her own, to do it well, that she forced herself, after a moment's -recollection, to welcome him, with a look and manner that were almost -easy, and almost open; and another struggle, another effort still -improved them. She would not allow the presence of Lucy, nor the -consciousness of some injustice towards herself, to deter her from -saying that she was happy to see him, and that she had very much -regretted being from home, when he called before in Berkeley Street. -She would not be frightened from paying him those attentions which, as -a friend and almost a relation, were his due, by the observant eyes -of Lucy, though she soon perceived them to be narrowly watching her. - -Her manners gave some re-assurance to Edward, and he had courage -enough to sit down; but his embarrassment still exceeded that of the -ladies in a proportion, which the case rendered reasonable, though his -sex might make it rare; for his heart had not the indifference of -Lucy's, nor could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor's. - -Lucy, with a demure and settled air, seemed determined to make no -contribution to the comfort of the others, and would not say a word; -and almost every thing that _was_ said, proceeded from Elinor, who was -obliged to volunteer all the information about her mother's health, -their coming to town, &c. which Edward ought to have inquired about, -but never did. - -Her exertions did not stop here; for she soon afterwards felt herself -so heroically disposed as to determine, under pretence of fetching -Marianne, to leave the others by themselves; and she really did it, -and _that_ in the handsomest manner, for she loitered away several -minutes on the landing-place, with the most high-minded fortitude, -before she went to her sister. When that was once done, however, it -was time for the raptures of Edward to cease; for Marianne's joy -hurried her into the drawing-room immediately. Her pleasure in seeing -him was like every other of her feelings, strong in itself, and -strongly spoken. She met him with a hand that would be taken, and a -voice that expressed the affection of a sister. - -"Dear Edward!" she cried, "this is a moment of great happiness!--This -would almost make amends for every thing!" - -Edward tried to return her kindness as it deserved, but before such -witnesses he dared not say half what he really felt. Again they all -sat down, and for a moment or two all were silent; while Marianne was -looking with the most speaking tenderness, sometimes at Edward and -sometimes at Elinor, regretting only that their delight in each other -should be checked by Lucy's unwelcome presence. Edward was the first -to speak, and it was to notice Marianne's altered looks, and express -his fear of her not finding London agree with her. - -"Oh, don't think of me!" she replied with spirited earnestness, though -her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke, "don't think of _my_ -health. Elinor is well, you see. That must be enough for us both." - -This remark was not calculated to make Edward or Elinor more easy, nor -to conciliate the good will of Lucy, who looked up at Marianne with no -very benignant expression. - -"Do you like London?" said Edward, willing to say any thing that might -introduce another subject. - -"Not at all. I expected much pleasure in it, but I have found none. -The sight of you, Edward, is the only comfort it has afforded; and -thank Heaven! you are what you always were!" - -She paused--no one spoke. - -"I think, Elinor," she presently added, "we must employ Edward to take -care of us in our return to Barton. In a week or two, I suppose, we -shall be going; and, I trust, Edward will not be very unwilling to -accept the charge." - -Poor Edward muttered something, but what it was, nobody knew, not even -himself. But Marianne, who saw his agitation, and could easily trace -it to whatever cause best pleased herself, was perfectly satisfied, -and soon talked of something else. - -"We spent such a day, Edward, in Harley Street yesterday! So dull, so -wretchedly dull!--But I have much to say to you on that head, which -cannot be said now." - -And with this admirable discretion did she defer the assurance of her -finding their mutual relatives more disagreeable than ever, and of her -being particularly disgusted with his mother, till they were more in -private. - -"But why were you not there, Edward?--Why did you not come?" - -"I was engaged elsewhere." - -"Engaged! But what was that, when such friends were to be met?" - -"Perhaps, Miss Marianne," cried Lucy, eager to take some revenge on -her, "you think young men never stand upon engagements, if they have -no mind to keep them, little as well as great." - -Elinor was very angry, but Marianne seemed entirely insensible of the -sting; for she calmly replied-- - -"Not so, indeed; for, seriously speaking, I am very sure that -conscience only kept Edward from Harley Street. And I really believe -he _has_ the most delicate conscience in the world; the most -scrupulous in performing every engagement, however minute, and however -it may make against his interest or pleasure. He is the most fearful -of giving pain, of wounding expectation, and the most incapable of -being selfish, of any body I ever saw. Edward, it is so, and I will -say it. What! are you never to hear yourself praised!--Then you must -be no friend of mine; for those who will accept of my love and esteem, -must submit to my open commendation." - -The nature of her commendation, in the present case, however, happened -to be particularly ill-suited to the feelings of two thirds of her -auditors, and was so very unexhilarating to Edward, that he very soon -got up to go away. - -"Going so soon!" said Marianne; "my dear Edward, this must not be." - -And drawing him a little aside, she whispered her persuasion that Lucy -could not stay much longer. But even this encouragement failed, for he -would go; and Lucy, who would have outstayed him, had his visit lasted -two hours, soon afterwards went away. - -"What can bring her here so often?" said Marianne, on her leaving -them. "Could not she see that we wanted her gone!--how teasing to -Edward!" - -"Why so?--we were all his friends, and Lucy has been the longest known -to him of any. It is but natural that he should like to see her as -well as ourselves." - -Marianne looked at her steadily, and said, "You know, Elinor, that -this is a kind of talking which I cannot bear. If you only hope to -have your assertion contradicted, as I must suppose to be the case, -you ought to recollect that I am the last person in the world to do -it. I cannot descend to be tricked out of assurances, that are not -really wanted." - -She then left the room; and Elinor dared not follow her to say more, -for bound as she was by her promise of secrecy to Lucy, she could give -no information that would convince Marianne; and painful as the -consequences of her still continuing in an error might be, she was -obliged to submit to it. All that she could hope, was that Edward -would not often expose her or himself to the distress of hearing -Marianne's mistaken warmth, nor to the repetition of any other part of -the pain that had attended their recent meeting--and this she had -every reason to expect. - -[Illustration: _Drawing him a little aside._] - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - - -Within a few days after this meeting, the newspapers announced to the -world, that the lady of Thomas Palmer, Esq. was safely delivered of a -son and heir; a very interesting and satisfactory paragraph, at least -to all those intimate connections who knew it before. - -This event, highly important to Mrs. Jennings's happiness, produced a -temporary alteration in the disposal of her time, and influenced, in a -like degree, the engagements of her young friends; for as she wished -to be as much as possible with Charlotte, she went thither every -morning as soon as she was dressed, and did not return till late in -the evening; and the Miss Dashwoods, at the particular request of the -Middletons, spent the whole of every day, in Conduit Street. For their -own comfort they would much rather have remained, at least all the -morning, in Mrs. Jennings's house; but it was not a thing to be urged -against the wishes of everybody. Their hours were therefore made over -to Lady Middleton and the two Miss Steeles, by whom their company, in -fact was as little valued, as it was professedly sought. - -They had too much sense to be desirable companions to the former; and -by the latter they were considered with a jealous eye, as intruding on -_their_ ground, and sharing the kindness which they wanted to -monopolize. Though nothing could be more polite than Lady Middleton's -behaviour to Elinor and Marianne, she did not really like them at all. -Because they neither flattered herself nor her children, she could not -believe them good-natured; and because they were fond of reading, she -fancied them satirical: perhaps without exactly knowing what it was to -be satirical; but _that_ did not signify. It was censure in common -use, and easily given. - -Their presence was a restraint both on her and on Lucy. It checked the -idleness of one, and the business of the other. Lady Middleton was -ashamed of doing nothing before them, and the flattery which Lucy was -proud to think of and administer at other times, she feared they would -despise her for offering. Miss Steele was the least discomposed of the -three, by their presence; and it was in their power to reconcile her -to it entirely. Would either of them only have given her a full and -minute account of the whole affair between Marianne and Mr. -Willoughby, she would have thought herself amply rewarded for the -sacrifice of the best place by the fire after dinner, which their -arrival occasioned. But this conciliation was not granted; for though -she often threw out expressions of pity for her sister to Elinor, and -more than once dropt a reflection on the inconstancy of beaux before -Marianne, no effect was produced, but a look of indifference from the -former, or of disgust in the latter. An effort even yet lighter might -have made her their friend. Would they only have laughed at her about -the Doctor! But so little were they, anymore than the others, inclined -to oblige her, that if Sir John dined from home, she might spend a -whole day without hearing any other raillery on the subject, than what -she was kind enough to bestow on herself. - -All these jealousies and discontents, however, were so totally -unsuspected by Mrs. Jennings, that she thought it a delightful thing -for the girls to be together; and generally congratulated her young -friends every night, on having escaped the company of a stupid old -woman so long. She joined them sometimes at Sir John's, sometimes at -her own house; but wherever it was, she always came in excellent -spirits, full of delight and importance, attributing Charlotte's well -doing to her own care, and ready to give so exact, so minute a detail -of her situation, as only Miss Steele had curiosity enough to desire. -One thing _did_ disturb her; and of that she made her daily complaint. -Mr. Palmer maintained the common, but unfatherly opinion among his -sex, of all infants being alike; and though she could plainly -perceive, at different times, the most striking resemblance between -this baby and every one of his relations on both sides, there was no -convincing his father of it; no persuading him to believe that it was -not exactly like every other baby of the same age; nor could he even -be brought to acknowledge the simple proposition of its being the -finest child in the world. - -I come now to the relation of a misfortune, which about this time -befell Mrs. John Dashwood. It so happened that while her two sisters -with Mrs. Jennings were first calling on her in Harley Street, another -of her acquaintance had dropt in--a circumstance in itself not -apparently likely to produce evil to her. But while the imaginations -of other people will carry them away to form wrong judgments of our -conduct, and to decide on it by slight appearances, one's happiness -must in some measure be always at the mercy of chance. In the present -instance, this last-arrived lady allowed her fancy to so far outrun -truth and probability, that on merely hearing the name of the Miss -Dashwoods, and understanding them to be Mr. Dashwood's sisters, she -immediately concluded them to be staying in Harley Street; and this -misconstruction produced within a day or two afterwards, cards of -invitation for them as well as for their brother and sister, to a -small musical party at her house. The consequence of which was, that -Mrs. John Dashwood was obliged to submit not only to the exceedingly -great inconvenience of sending her carriage for the Miss Dashwoods, -but, what was still worse, must be subject to all the unpleasantness -of appearing to treat them with attention: and who could tell that -they might not expect to go out with her a second time? The power of -disappointing them, it was true, must always be her's. But that was -not enough; for when people are determined on a mode of conduct which -they know to be wrong, they feel injured by the expectation of any -thing better from them. - -Marianne had now been brought by degrees, so much into the habit of -going out every day, that it was become a matter of indifference to -her, whether she went or not: and she prepared quietly and -mechanically for every evening's engagement, though without expecting -the smallest amusement from any, and very often without knowing, till -the last moment, where it was to take her. - -To her dress and appearance she was grown so perfectly indifferent, as -not to bestow half the consideration on it, during the whole of her -toilet, which it received from Miss Steele in the first five minutes -of their being together, when it was finished. Nothing escaped _her_ -minute observation and general curiosity; she saw every thing, and -asked every thing; was never easy till she knew the price of every -part of Marianne's dress; could have guessed the number of her gowns -altogether with better judgment than Marianne herself, and was not -without hopes of finding out before they parted, how much her washing -cost per week, and how much she had every year to spend upon herself. -The impertinence of these kind of scrutinies, moreover, was generally -concluded with a compliment, which though meant as its douceur, was -considered by Marianne as the greatest impertinence of all; for after -undergoing an examination into the value and make of her gown, the -colour of her shoes, and the arrangement of her hair, she was almost -sure of being told that upon "her word she looked vastly smart, and -she dared to say she would make a great many conquests." - -With such encouragement as this, was she dismissed on the present -occasion, to her brother's carriage; which they were ready to enter -five minutes after it stopped at the door, a punctuality not very -agreeable to their sister-in-law, who had preceded them to the house -of her acquaintance, and was there hoping for some delay on their part -that might inconvenience either herself or her coachman. - -The events of this evening were not very remarkable. The party, like -other musical parties, comprehended a great many people who had real -taste for the performance, and a great many more who had none at all; -and the performers themselves were, as usual, in their own estimation, -and that of their immediate friends, the first private performers in -England. - -As Elinor was neither musical, nor affecting to be so, she made no -scruple of turning her eyes from the grand pianoforte, whenever it -suited her, and unrestrained even by the presence of a harp, and -violoncello, would fix them at pleasure on any other object in the -room. In one of these excursive glances she perceived among a group of -young men, the very he, who had given them a lecture on -toothpick-cases at Gray's. She perceived him soon afterwards looking -at herself, and speaking familiarly to her brother; and had just -determined to find out his name from the latter, when they both came -towards her, and Mr. Dashwood introduced him to her as Mr. Robert -Ferrars. - -He addressed her with easy civility, and twisted his head into a bow -which assured her as plainly as words could have done, that he was -exactly the coxcomb she had heard him described to be by Lucy. Happy -had it been for her, if her regard for Edward had depended less on his -own merit, than on the merit of his nearest relations! For then his -brother's bow must have given the finishing stroke to what the -ill-humour of his mother and sister would have begun. But while she -wondered at the difference of the two young men, she did not find that -the emptiness of conceit of the one, put her out of all charity with -the modesty and worth of the other. Why they _were_ different, Robert -exclaimed to her himself in the course of a quarter of an hour's -conversation; for, talking of his brother, and lamenting the extreme -_gaucherie_ which he really believed kept him from mixing in proper -society, he candidly and generously attributed it much less to any -natural deficiency, than to the misfortune of a private education; -while he himself, though probably without any particular, any material -superiority by nature, merely from the advantage of a public school, -was as well fitted to mix in the world as any other man. - -"Upon my soul," he added, "I believe it is nothing more; and so I -often tell my mother, when she is grieving about it. 'My dear Madam,' -I always say to her, 'you must make yourself easy. The evil is now -irremediable, and it has been entirely your own doing. Why would you -be persuaded by my uncle, Sir Robert, against your own judgment, to -place Edward under private tuition, at the most critical time of his -life? If you had only sent him to Westminster as well as myself, -instead of sending him to Mr. Pratt's, all this would have been -prevented.' This is the way in which I always consider the matter, and -my mother is perfectly convinced of her error." - -Elinor would not oppose his opinion, because, whatever might be her -general estimation of the advantage of a public school, she could not -think of Edward's abode in Mr. Pratt's family, with any satisfaction. - -"You reside in Devonshire, I think,"--was his next observation, "in a -cottage near Dawlish." - -Elinor set him right as to its situation; and it seemed rather -surprising to him that anybody could live in Devonshire, without -living near Dawlish. He bestowed his hearty approbation however on -their species of house. - -"For my own part," said he, "I am excessively fond of a cottage; there -is always so much comfort, so much elegance about them. And I protest, -if I had any money to spare, I should buy a little land and build one -myself, within a short distance of London, where I might drive myself -down at any time, and collect a few friends about me, and be happy. I -advise every body who is going to build, to build a cottage. My friend -Lord Courtland came to me the other day on purpose to ask my advice, -and laid before me three different plans of Bonomi's. I was to decide -on the best of them. 'My dear Courtland,' said I, immediately throwing -them all into the fire, 'do not adopt either of them, but by all means -build a cottage.' And that I fancy, will be the end of it. - -"Some people imagine that there can be no accommodations, no space in -a cottage; but this is all a mistake. I was last month at my friend -Elliott's, near Dartford. Lady Elliott wished to give a dance. 'But -how can it be done?' said she; 'my dear Ferrars, do tell me how it is -to be managed. There is not a room in this cottage that will hold ten -couple, and where can the supper be?' I immediately saw that there -could be no difficulty in it, so I said, 'My dear Lady Elliott, do not -be uneasy. The dining parlour will admit eighteen couple with ease; -card-tables may be placed in the drawing-room; the library may be open -for tea and other refreshments; and let the supper be set out in the -saloon.' Lady Elliott was delighted with the thought. We measured the -dining-room, and found it would hold exactly eighteen couple, and the -affair was arranged precisely after my plan. So that, in fact, you -see, if people do but know how to set about it, every comfort may be -as well enjoyed in a cottage as in the most spacious dwelling." - -Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the -compliment of rational opposition. - -As John Dashwood had no more pleasure in music than his eldest sister, -his mind was equally at liberty to fix on any thing else; and a -thought struck him during the evening, which he communicated to his -wife, for her approbation, when they got home. The consideration of -Mrs. Dennison's mistake, in supposing his sisters their guests, had -suggested the propriety of their being really invited to become such, -while Mrs. Jennings's engagements kept her from home. The expense -would be nothing, the inconvenience not more; and it was altogether an -attention which the delicacy of his conscience pointed out to be -requisite to its complete enfranchisement from his promise to his -father. Fanny was startled at the proposal. - -"I do not see how it can be done," said she, "without affronting Lady -Middleton, for they spend every day with her; otherwise I should be -exceedingly glad to do it. You know I am always ready to pay them any -attention in my power, as my taking them out this evening shows. But -they are Lady Middleton's visitors. How can I ask them away from her?" - -Her husband, but with great humility, did not see the force of her -objection. "They had already spent a week in this manner in Conduit -Street, and Lady Middleton could not be displeased at their giving the -same number of days to such near relations." - -Fanny paused a moment, and then, with fresh vigor, said-- - -"My love I would ask them with all my heart, if it was in my power. -But I had just settled within myself to ask the Miss Steeles to spend -a few days with us. They are very well behaved, good kind of girls; -and I think the attention is due to them, as their uncle did so very -well by Edward. We can ask your sisters some other year, you know; but -the Miss Steeles may not be in town any more. I am sure you will like -them; indeed, you _do_ like them, you know, very much already, and so -does my mother; and they are such favourites with Harry!" - -Mr. Dashwood was convinced. He saw the necessity of inviting the Miss -Steeles immediately, and his conscience was pacified by the resolution -of inviting his sisters another year; at the same time, however, slyly -suspecting that another year would make the invitation needless, by -bringing Elinor to town as Colonel Brandon's wife, and Marianne as -_their_ visitor. - -Fanny, rejoicing in her escape, and proud of the ready wit that had -procured it, wrote the next morning to Lucy, to request her company -and her sister's, for some days, in Harley Street, as soon as Lady -Middleton could spare them. This was enough to make Lucy really and -reasonably happy. Mrs. Dashwood seemed actually working for her, -herself; cherishing all her hopes, and promoting all her views! Such -an opportunity of being with Edward and his family was, above all -things, the most material to her interest, and such an invitation the -most gratifying to her feelings! It was an advantage that could not -be too gratefully acknowledged, nor too speedily made use of; and the -visit to Lady Middleton, which had not before had any precise limits, -was instantly discovered to have been always meant to end in two days' -time. - -When the note was shown to Elinor, as it was within ten minutes after -its arrival, it gave her, for the first time, some share in the -expectations of Lucy; for such a mark of uncommon kindness, vouchsafed -on so short an acquaintance, seemed to declare that the good-will -towards her arose from something more than merely malice against -herself; and might be brought, by time and address, to do every thing -that Lucy wished. Her flattery had already subdued the pride of Lady -Middleton, and made an entry into the close heart of Mrs. John -Dashwood; and these were effects that laid open the probability of -greater. - -The Miss Steeles removed to Harley Street, and all that reached Elinor -of their influence there, strengthened her expectation of the event. -Sir John, who called on them more than once, brought home such -accounts of the favour they were in, as must be universally striking. -Mrs. Dashwood had never been so much pleased with any young women in -her life, as she was with them; had given each of them a needle book -made by some emigrant; called Lucy by her Christian name; and did not -know whether she should ever be able to part with them. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - - -Mrs. Palmer was so well at the end of a fortnight, that her mother -felt it no longer necessary to give up the whole of her time to her; -and, contenting herself with visiting her once or twice a day, -returned from that period to her own home, and her own habits, in -which she found the Miss Dashwoods very ready to resume their former -share. - -About the third or fourth morning after their being thus resettled in -Berkeley Street, Mrs. Jennings, on returning from her ordinary visit -to Mrs. Palmer, entered the drawing-room, where Elinor was sitting by -herself, with an air of such hurrying importance as prepared her to -hear something wonderful; and giving her time only to form that idea, -began directly to justify it, by saying-- - -"Lord! my dear Miss Dashwood! have you heard the news?" - -"No, ma'am. What is it?" - -"Something so strange! But you shall hear it all. When I got to Mr. -Palmer's, I found Charlotte quite in a fuss about the child. She was -sure it was very ill--it cried, and fretted, and was all over pimples. -So I looked at it directly, and, 'Lord! my dear,' says I, 'it is -nothing in the world, but the red gum--' and nurse said just the same. -But Charlotte, she would not be satisfied, so Mr. Donavan was sent -for; and luckily he happened to just come in from Harley Street, so he -stepped over directly, and as soon as ever he saw the child, he said -just as we did, that it was nothing in the world but the red gum, and -then Charlotte was easy. And so, just as he was going away again, it -came into my head, I am sure I do not know how I happened to think of -it, but it came into my head to ask him if there was any news. So upon -that, he smirked, and simpered, and looked grave, and seemed to know -something or other, and at last he said in a whisper, 'For fear any -unpleasant report should reach the young ladies under your care as to -their sister's indisposition, I think it advisable to say, that I -believe there is no great reason for alarm; I hope Mrs. Dashwood will -do very well.'" - -"What! is Fanny ill?" - -[Illustration: _In a whisper._] - -"That is exactly what I said, my dear. 'Lord!' says I, 'is Mrs. -Dashwood ill?' So then it all came out; and the long and the short of -the matter, by all I can learn, seems to be this. Mr. Edward Ferrars, -the very young man I used to joke with you about (but however, as it -turns out, I am monstrous glad there was never any thing in it), Mr. -Edward Ferrars, it seems, has been engaged above this twelvemonth to -my cousin Lucy! There's for you, my dear! And not a creature knowing a -syllable of the matter, except Nancy! Could you have believed such a -thing possible? There is no great wonder in their liking one another; -but that matters should be brought so forward between them, and nobody -suspect it! _That_ is strange! I never happened to see them together, -or I am sure I should have found it out directly. Well, and so this -was kept a great secret, for fear of Mrs. Ferrars, and neither she nor -your brother or sister suspected a word of the matter: till this very -morning, poor Nancy, who, you know, is a well-meaning creature, but no -conjurer, popt it all out. 'Lord!' thinks she to herself, 'they are -all so fond of Lucy, to be sure they will make no difficulty about -it;' and so, away she went to your sister, who was sitting all alone -at her carpet-work, little suspecting what was to come--for she had -just been saying to your brother, only five minutes before, that she -thought to make a match between Edward and some Lord's daughter or -other, I forget who. So you may think what a blow it was to all her -vanity and pride. She fell into violent hysterics immediately, with -such screams as reached your brother's ears, as he was sitting in his -own dressing-room down stairs, thinking about writing a letter to his -steward in the country. So up he flew directly, and a terrible scene -took place, for Lucy was come to them by that time, little dreaming -what was going on. Poor soul! I pity _her._ And I must say, I think -she was used very hardly; for your sister scolded like any fury, and -soon drove her into a fainting fit. Nancy, she fell upon her knees, -and cried bitterly; and your brother, he walked about the room, and -said he did not know what to do. Mrs. Dashwood declared they should -not stay a minute longer in the house, and your brother was forced to -go down upon _his_ knees too, to persuade her to let them stay till -they had packed up their clothes. _Then_ she fell into hysterics -again, and he was so frightened that he would send for Mr. Donavan, -and Mr. Donavan found the house in all this uproar. The carriage was -at the door ready to take my poor cousins away, and they were just -stepping in as he came off; poor Lucy in such a condition, he says, -she could hardly walk; and Nancy, she was almost as bad. I declare, I -have no patience with your sister; and I hope, with all my heart, it -will be a match in spite of her. Lord! what a taking poor Mr. Edward -will be in when he hears of it! To have his love used so scornfully! -for they say he is monstrous fond of her, as well he may. I should not -wonder, if he was to be in the greatest passion!--and Mr. Donavan -thinks just the same. He and I had a great deal of talk about it; and -the best of all is, that he is gone back again to Harley Street, that -he may be within call when Mrs. Ferrars is told of it, for she was -sent for as soon as ever my cousins left the house, for your sister -was sure _she_ would be in hysterics too; and so she may, for what I -care. I have no pity for either of them. I have no notion of people's -making such a to-do about money and greatness. There is no reason on -earth why Mr. Edward and Lucy should not marry; for I am sure Mrs. -Ferrars may afford to do very well by her son, and though Lucy has -next to nothing herself, she knows better than any body how to make -the most of every thing; I dare say, if Mrs. Ferrars would only allow -him five hundred a-year, she would make as good an appearance with it -as any body else would with eight. Lord! how snug they might live in -such another cottage as yours--or a little bigger--with two maids, and -two men; and I believe I could help them to a housemaid, for my Betty -has a sister out of place, that would fit them exactly." - -Here Mrs. Jennings ceased, and as Elinor had had time enough to -collect her thoughts, she was able to give such an answer, and make -such observations, as the subject might naturally be supposed to -produce. Happy to find that she was not suspected of any extraordinary -interest in it; that Mrs. Jennings (as she had of late often hoped -might be the case) had ceased to imagine her at all attached to -Edward; and happy above all the rest, in the absence of Marianne, she -felt very well able to speak of the affair without embarrassment, and -to give her judgment, as she believed, with impartiality on the -conduct of every one concerned in it. - -She could hardly determine what her own expectation of its event -really was; though she earnestly tried to drive away the notion of its -being possible to end otherwise at last, than in the marriage of -Edward and Lucy. What Mrs. Ferrars would say and do, though there -could not be a doubt of its nature, she was anxious to hear; and still -more anxious to know how Edward would conduct himself. For _him_ she -felt much compassion;--for Lucy very little--and it cost her some -pains to procure that little;--for the rest of the party none at all. - -As Mrs. Jennings could talk on no other subject, Elinor soon saw the -necessity of preparing Marianne for its discussion. No time was to be -lost in undeceiving her, in making her acquainted with the real truth, -and in endeavouring to bring her to hear it talked of by others, -without betraying that she felt any uneasiness for her sister, or any -resentment against Edward. - -Elinor's office was a painful one. She was going to remove what she -really believed to be her sister's chief consolation,--to give such -particulars of Edward as she feared would ruin him for ever in her -good opinion,-and to make Marianne, by a resemblance in their -situations, which to _her_ fancy would seem strong, feel all her own -disappointment over again. But unwelcome as such a task must be, it -was necessary to be done, and Elinor therefore hastened to perform it. - -She was very far from wishing to dwell on her own feelings, or to -represent herself as suffering much, any otherwise than as the -self-command she had practised since her first knowledge of Edward's -engagement, might suggest a hint of what was practicable to Marianne. -Her narration was clear and simple; and though it could not be given -without emotion, it was not accompanied by violent agitation, nor -impetuous grief. _That_ belonged rather to the hearer, for Marianne -listened with horror, and cried excessively. Elinor was to be the -comforter of others in her own distresses, no less than in theirs; and -all the comfort that could be given by assurances of her own composure -of mind, and a very earnest vindication of Edward from every charge -but of imprudence, was readily offered. - -But Marianne for some time would give credit to neither. Edward seemed -a second Willoughby; and acknowledging as Elinor did, that she _had_ -loved him most sincerely, could she feel less than herself! As for -Lucy Steele, she considered her so totally unamiable, so absolutely -incapable of attaching a sensible man, that she could not be persuaded -at first to believe, and afterwards to pardon, any former affection of -Edward for her. She would not even admit it to have been natural; and -Elinor left her to be convinced that it was so, by that which only -could convince her, a better knowledge of mankind. - -Her first communication had reached no farther than to state the fact -of the engagement, and the length of time it had existed. Marianne's -feelings had then broken in, and put an end to all regularity of -detail; and for some time all that could be done was to soothe her -distress, lessen her alarms, and combat her resentment. The first -question on her side, which led to farther particulars, was-- - -"How long has this been known to you, Elinor? has he written to you?" - -"I have known it these four months. When Lucy first came to Barton -Park last November, she told me in confidence of her engagement." - -At these words, Marianne's eyes expressed the astonishment which her -lips could not utter. After a pause of wonder, she exclaimed-- - -"Four months!--Have you known of this four months?" - -Elinor confirmed it. - -"What!--while attending me in all my misery, has this been on your -heart?--And I have reproached you for being happy!"-- - -"It was not fit that you should then know how much I was the reverse!" - -"Four months!" cried Marianne again. "So calm! so cheerful! how have -you been supported?" - -"By feeling that I was doing my duty. My promise to Lucy, obliged me -to be secret. I owed it to her, therefore, to avoid giving any hint of -the truth; and I owed it to my family and friends, not to create in -them a solicitude about me, which it could not be in my power to -satisfy." - -Marianne seemed much struck. - -"I have very often wished to undeceive yourself and my mother," added -Elinor; "and once or twice I have attempted it; but without betraying -my trust, I never could have convinced you." - -"Four months! and yet you loved him!" - -"Yes. But I did not love only him;--and while the comfort of others -was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt. -Now, I can think and speak of it with little emotion. I would not have -you suffer on my account; for I assure you I no longer suffer -materially myself. I have many things to support me. I am not -conscious of having provoked the disappointment by any imprudence of -my own, I have borne it as much as possible without spreading it -farther. I acquit Edward of essential misconduct. I wish him very -happy; and I am so sure of his always doing his duty, that though now -he may harbour some regret, in the end he must become so. Lucy does -not want sense, and that is the foundation on which every thing good -may be built. And after all, Marianne, after all that is bewitching in -the idea of a single and constant attachment, and all that can be said -of one's happiness depending entirely on any particular person, it is -not meant--it is not fit--it is not possible that it should be so. -Edward will marry Lucy; he will marry a woman superior in person and -understanding to half her sex; and time and habit will teach him to -forget that he ever thought another superior to _her._" - -"If such is your way of thinking," said Marianne, "if the loss of what -is most valued is so easily to be made up by something else, your -resolution, your self-command, are, perhaps, a little less to be -wondered at. They are brought more within my comprehension." - -"I understand you. You do not suppose that I have ever felt much. For -four months, Marianne, I have had all this hanging on my mind, without -being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature; knowing that it -would make you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained -to you, yet unable to prepare you for it in the least. It was told -me,--it was in a manner forced on me by the very person herself, whose -prior engagement ruined all my prospects; and told me, as I thought, -with triumph. This person's suspicions, therefore, I have had to -oppose, by endeavouring to appear indifferent where I have been most -deeply interested;--and it has not been only once;--I have had her -hopes and exultation to listen to again and again. I have known myself -to be divided from Edward for ever, without hearing one circumstance -that could make me less desire the connection. Nothing has proved him -unworthy; nor has anything declared him indifferent to me. I have had -to contend against the unkindness of his sister, and the insolence of -his mother; and have suffered the punishment of an attachment, without -enjoying its advantages. And all this has been going on at a time, -when, as you know too well, it has not been my only unhappiness. If -you can think me capable of ever feeling, surely you may suppose that -I have suffered _now._ The composure of mind with which I have brought -myself at present to consider the matter, the consolation that I have -been willing to admit, have been the effect of constant and painful -exertion; they did not spring up of themselves; they did not occur to -relieve my spirits at first. No, Marianne. _Then_, if I had not been -bound to silence, perhaps nothing could have kept me entirely--not -even what I owed to my dearest friends--from openly showing that I was -_very_ unhappy."-- - -Marianne was quite subdued. - -"Oh! Elinor," she cried, "you have made me hate myself for ever. How -barbarous have I been to you!--you, who have been my only comfort, who -have borne with me in all my misery, who have seemed to be only -suffering for me! Is this my gratitude? Is this the only return I can -make you? Because your merit cries out upon myself, I have been trying -to do it away." - -The tenderest caresses followed this confession. In such a frame of -mind as she was now in, Elinor had no difficulty in obtaining from her -whatever promise she required; and at her request, Marianne engaged -never to speak of the affair to any one with the least appearance of -bitterness;--to meet Lucy without betraying the smallest increase of -dislike to her;--and even to see Edward himself, if chance should -bring them together, without any diminution of her usual cordiality. -These were great concessions;--but where Marianne felt that she had -injured, no reparation could be too much for her to make. - -She performed her promise of being discreet, to admiration. She -attended to all that Mrs. Jennings had to say upon the subject, with -an unchanging complexion, dissented from her in nothing, and was heard -three times to say, "Yes, ma'am."--She listened to her praise of Lucy -with only moving from one chair to another, and when Mrs. Jennings -talked of Edward's affection, it cost her only a spasm in her throat. -Such advances towards heroism in her sister, made Elinor feel equal to -any thing herself. - -The next morning brought a farther trial of it, in a visit from their -brother, who came with a most serious aspect to talk over the dreadful -affair, and bring them news of his wife. - -"You have heard, I suppose," said he with great solemnity, as soon as -he was seated, "of the very shocking discovery that took place under -our roof yesterday." - -They all looked their assent; it seemed too awful a moment for speech. - -[Illustration: "_You have heard, I suppose._"] - -"Your sister," he continued, "has suffered dreadfully. Mrs. Ferrars -too--in short it has been a scene of such complicated distress--but -I will hope that the storm may be weathered without our being any of -us quite overcome. Poor Fanny! she was in hysterics all yesterday. But -I would not alarm you too much. Donavan says there is nothing -materially to be apprehended; her constitution is a good one, and her -resolution equal to any thing. She has borne it all, with the -fortitude of an angel! She says she never shall think well of anybody -again; and one cannot wonder at it, after being so deceived!--meeting -with such ingratitude, where so much kindness had been shown, so much -confidence had been placed! It was quite out of the benevolence of her -heart, that she had asked these young women to her house; merely -because she thought they deserved some attention, were harmless, -well-behaved girls, and would be pleasant companions; for otherwise we -both wished very much to have invited you and Marianne to be with us, -while your kind friend there, was attending her daughter. And now to -be so rewarded! 'I wish, with all my heart,' says poor Fanny in her -affectionate way, 'that we had asked your sisters instead of them.'" - -Here he stopped to be thanked; which being done, he went on. - -"What poor Mrs. Ferrars suffered, when first Fanny broke it to her, is -not to be described. While she with the truest affection had been -planning a most eligible connection for him, was it to be supposed -that he could be all the time secretly engaged to another -person!--such a suspicion could never have entered her head! If she -suspected _any_ prepossession elsewhere, it could not be in _that_ -quarter. '_There_ to be sure,' said she, 'I might have thought myself -safe.' She was quite in an agony. We consulted together, however, as -to what should be done, and at last she determined to send for Edward. -He came. But I am sorry to relate what ensued. All that Mrs. Ferrars -could say to make him put an end to the engagement, assisted too as -you may well suppose by my arguments, and Fanny's entreaties, was of -no avail. Duty, affection, every thing was disregarded. I never -thought Edward so stubborn, so unfeeling before. His mother explained -to him her liberal designs, in case of his marrying Miss Morton; told -him she would settle on him the Norfolk estate, which, clear of -land-tax, brings in a good thousand a-year; offered even, when matters -grew desperate, to make it twelve hundred; and in opposition to this, -if he still persisted in this low connection, represented to him the -certain penury that must attend the match. His own two thousand pounds -she protested should be his all; she would never see him again; and so -far would she be from affording him the smallest assistance, that if -he were to enter into any profession with a view of better support, -she would do all in her power to prevent him advancing in it." - -Here Marianne, in an ecstasy of indignation, clapped her hands -together, and cried, "Gracious God! can this be possible!" - -"Well may you wonder, Marianne," replied her brother, "at the -obstinacy which could resist such arguments as these. Your exclamation -is very natural." - -Marianne was going to retort, but she remembered her promises, and -forbore. - -"All this, however," he continued, "was urged in vain. Edward said -very little; but what he did say, was in the most determined manner. -Nothing should prevail on him to give up his engagement. He would -stand to it, cost him what it might." - -"Then," cried Mrs. Jennings with blunt sincerity, no longer able to be -silent, "he has acted like an honest man! I beg your pardon, Mr. -Dashwood, but if he had done otherwise, I should have thought him a -rascal. I have some little concern in the business, as well as -yourself, for Lucy Steele is my cousin, and I believe there is not a -better kind of girl in the world, nor one who more deserves a good -husband." - -John Dashwood was greatly astonished; but his nature was calm, not -open to provocation, and he never wished to offend anybody, especially -anybody of good fortune. He therefore replied, without any -resentment-- - -"I would by no means speak disrespectfully of any relation of yours, -madam. Miss Lucy Steele is, I dare say, a very deserving young woman, -but in the present case you know, the connection must be impossible. -And to have entered into a secret engagement with a young man under -her uncle's care, the son of a woman especially of such very large -fortune as Mrs. Ferrars, is perhaps, altogether a little -extraordinary. In short, I do not mean to reflect upon the behaviour -of any person whom you have a regard for, Mrs. Jennings. We all wish -her extremely happy; and Mrs. Ferrars's conduct throughout the whole, -has been such as every conscientious, good mother, in like -circumstances, would adopt. It has been dignified and liberal. Edward -has drawn his own lot, and I fear it will be a bad one." - -Marianne sighed out her similar apprehension; and Elinor's heart wrung -for the feelings of Edward, while braving his mother's threats, for a -woman who could not reward him. - -"Well, sir," said Mrs. Jennings, "and how did it end?" - -"I am sorry to say, ma'am, in a most unhappy rupture:--Edward is -dismissed for ever from his mother's notice. He left her house -yesterday, but where he is gone, or whether he is still in town, I do -not know; for _we_ of course can make no inquiry." - -"Poor young man!--and what is to become of him?" - -"What, indeed, ma'am! It is a melancholy consideration. Born to the -prospect of such affluence! I cannot conceive a situation more -deplorable. The interest of two thousand pounds--how can a man live on -it?--and when to that is added the recollection, that he might, but -for his own folly, within three months have been in the receipt of two -thousand, five hundred a-year (for Miss Morton has thirty thousand -pounds,) I cannot picture to myself a more wretched condition. We must -all feel for him; and the more so, because it is totally out of our -power to assist him." - -"Poor young man!" cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure he should be very -welcome to bed and board at my house; and so I would tell him if I -could see him. It is not fit that he should be living about at his own -charge now, at lodgings and taverns." - -Elinor's heart thanked her for such kindness towards Edward, though -she could not forbear smiling at the form of it. - -"If he would only have done as well by himself," said John Dashwood, -"as all his friends were disposed to do by him, he might now have been -in his proper situation, and would have wanted for nothing. But as it -is, it must be out of anybody's power to assist him. And there is one -thing more preparing against him, which must be worse than all--his -mother has determined, with a very natural kind of spirit, to settle -_that_ estate upon Robert immediately, which might have been Edward's, -on proper conditions. I left her this morning with her lawyer, -talking over the business." - -[Illustration: _Talking over the business._] - -"Well!" said Mrs. Jennings, "that is _her_ revenge. Everybody has a -way of their own. But I don't think mine would be, to make one son -independent, because another had plagued me." - -Marianne got up and walked about the room. - -"Can anything be more galling to the spirit of a man," continued John, -"than to see his younger brother in possession of an estate which -might have been his own? Poor Edward! I feel for him sincerely." - -A few minutes more spent in the same kind of effusion, concluded his -visit; and with repeated assurances to his sisters that he really -believed there was no material danger in Fanny's indisposition, and -that they need not therefore be very uneasy about it, he went away; -leaving the three ladies unanimous in their sentiments on the present -occasion, as far at least as it regarded Mrs. Ferrars's conduct, the -Dashwoods', and Edward's. - -Marianne's indignation burst forth as soon as he quitted the room; and -as her vehemence made reserve impossible in Elinor, and unnecessary in -Mrs. Jennings, they all joined in a very spirited critique upon the -party. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - - -Mrs. Jennings was very warm in her praise of Edward's conduct, but -only Elinor and Marianne understood its true merit. _They_ only knew -how little he had had to tempt him to be disobedient, and how small -was the consolation, beyond the consciousness of doing right, that -could remain to him in the loss of friends and fortune. Elinor gloried -in his integrity; and Marianne forgave all his offences in compassion -for his punishment. But though confidence between them was, by this -public discovery, restored to its proper state, it was not a subject -on which either of them were fond of dwelling when alone. Elinor -avoided it upon principle, as tending to fix still more upon her -thoughts, by the too warm, too positive assurances of Marianne, that -belief of Edward's continued affection for herself which she rather -wished to do away; and Marianne's courage soon failed her, in trying -to converse upon a topic which always left her more dissatisfied with -herself than ever, by the comparison it necessarily produced between -Elinor's conduct and her own. - -She felt all the force of that comparison; but not as her sister had -hoped, to urge her to exertion now; she felt it with all the pain of -continual self-reproach, regretted most bitterly that she had never -exerted herself before; but it brought only the torture of penitence, -without the hope of amendment. Her mind was so much weakened that she -still fancied present exertion impossible, and therefore it only -dispirited her more. - -Nothing new was heard by them, for a day or two afterwards, of affairs -in Harley Street, or Bartlett's Buildings. But though so much of the -matter was known to them already, that Mrs. Jennings might have had -enough to do in spreading that knowledge farther, without seeking -after more, she had resolved from the first to pay a visit of comfort -and inquiry to her cousins as soon as she could; and nothing but the -hindrance of more visitors than usual, had prevented her going to them -within that time. - -The third day succeeding their knowledge of the particulars, was so -fine, so beautiful a Sunday as to draw many to Kensington Gardens, -though it was only the second week in March. Mrs. Jennings and Elinor -were of the number; but Marianne, who knew that the Willoughbys were -again in town, and had a constant dread of meeting them, chose rather -to stay at home, than venture into so public a place. - -An intimate acquaintance of Mrs. Jennings joined them soon after they -entered the Gardens, and Elinor was not sorry that by her continuing -with them, and engaging all Mrs. Jennings's conversation, she was -herself left to quiet reflection. She saw nothing of the Willoughbys, -nothing of Edward, and for some time nothing of anybody who could by -any chance whether grave or gay, be interesting to her. But at last -she found herself with some surprise, accosted by Miss Steele, who, -though looking rather shy, expressed great satisfaction in meeting -them, and on receiving encouragement from the particular kindness of -Mrs. Jennings, left her own party for a short time, to join their's. -Mrs. Jennings immediately whispered to Elinor-- - -"Get it all out of her, my dear. She will tell you any thing if you -ask. You see I cannot leave Mrs. Clarke." - -It was lucky, however, for Mrs. Jennings's curiosity and Elinor's too, -that she would tell any thing _without_ being asked; for nothing would -otherwise have been learnt. - -"I am so glad to meet you;" said Miss Steele, taking her familiarly by -the arm--"for I wanted to see you of all things in the world." And -then lowering her voice, "I suppose Mrs. Jennings has heard all about -it. Is she angry?" - -"Not at all, I believe, with you." - -"That is a good thing. And Lady Middleton, is _she_ angry?" - -"I cannot suppose it possible that she should." - -"I am monstrous glad of it. Good gracious! I have had such a time of -it! I never saw Lucy in such a rage in my life. She vowed at first she -would never trim me up a new bonnet, nor do any thing else for me -again, so long as she lived; but now she is quite come to, and we are -as good friends as ever. Look, she made me this bow to my hat, and put -in the feather last night. There now, _you_ are going to laugh at me -too. But why should not I wear pink ribbons? I do not care if it _is_ -the Doctor's favourite colour. I am sure, for my part, I should never -have known he _did_ like it better than any other colour, if he had -not happened to say so. My cousins have been so plaguing me! I declare -sometimes I do not know which way to look before them." - -She had wandered away to a subject on which Elinor had nothing to say, -and therefore soon judged it expedient to find her way back again to -the first. - -"Well, but Miss Dashwood," speaking triumphantly, "people may say what -they choose about Mr. Ferrars's declaring he would not have Lucy, for -it is no such thing I can tell you; and it is quite a shame for such -ill-natured reports to be spread abroad. Whatever Lucy might think -about it herself, you know, it was no business of other people to set -it down for certain." - -"I never heard any thing of the kind hinted at before, I assure you," -said Elinor. - -[Illustration: "_She put in the feather last night._"] - -"Oh, did not you? But it _was_ said, I know, very well, and by more -than one; for Miss Godby told Miss Sparks, that nobody in their senses -could expect Mr. Ferrars to give up a woman like Miss Morton, with -thirty thousand pounds to her fortune, for Lucy Steele that had -nothing at all; and I had it from Miss Sparks myself. And besides -that, my cousin Richard said himself, that when it came to the point -he was afraid Mr. Ferrars would be off; and when Edward did not come -near us for three days, I could not tell what to think myself; and I -believe in my heart Lucy gave it up all for lost; for we came away -from your brother's Wednesday, and we saw nothing of him not all -Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and did not know what was become of -him. Once Lucy thought to write to him, but then her spirits rose -against that. However this morning he came just as we came home from -church; and then it all came out, how he had been sent for Wednesday -to Harley Street, and been talked to by his mother and all of them, -and how he had declared before them all that he loved nobody but Lucy, -and nobody but Lucy would he have. And how he had been so worried by -what passed, that as soon as he had went away from his mother's house, -he had got upon his horse, and rid into the country, some where or -other; and how he had stayed about at an inn all Thursday and Friday, -on purpose to get the better of it. And after thinking it all over and -over again, he said, it seemed to him as if, now he had no fortune, -and no nothing at all, it would be quite unkind to keep her on to the -engagement, because it must be for her loss, for he had nothing but -two thousand pounds, and no hope of any thing else; and if he was to -go into orders, as he had some thoughts, he could get nothing but a -curacy, and how was they to live upon that?--He could not bear to -think of her doing no better, and so he begged, if she had the least -mind for it, to put an end to the matter directly, and leave him shift -for himself. I heard him say all this as plain as could possibly be. -And it was entirely for _her_ sake, and upon _her_ account, that he -said a word about being off, and not upon his own. I will take my oath -he never dropt a syllable of being tired of her, or of wishing to -marry Miss Morton, or any thing like it. But, to be sure, Lucy would -not give ear to such kind of talking; so she told him directly (with a -great deal about sweet and love, you know, and all that--Oh, la! one -can't repeat such kind of things you know)--she told him directly, she -had not the least mind in the world to be off, for she could live with -him upon a trifle, and how little so ever he might have, she should be -very glad to have it all, you know, or something of the kind. So then -he was monstrous happy, and talked on some time about what they should -do, and they agreed he should take orders directly, and they must wait -to be married till he got a living. And just then I could not hear any -more, for my cousin called from below to tell me Mrs. Richardson was -come in her coach, and would take one of us to Kensington Gardens; so -I was forced to go into the room and interrupt them, to ask Lucy if -she would like to go, but she did not care to leave Edward; so I just -run up stairs and put on a pair of silk stockings and came off with -the Richardsons." - -"I do not understand what you mean by interrupting them," said Elinor; -"you were all in the same room together, were not you?" - -"No, indeed, not us. La! Miss Dashwood, do you think people make love -when any body else is by? Oh, for shame!--To be sure you must know -better than that. (Laughing affectedly.)--No, no; they were shut up in -the drawing-room together, and all I heard was only by listening at -the door." - -"How!" cried Elinor; "have you been repeating to me what you only -learnt yourself by listening at the door? I am sorry I did not know it -before; for I certainly would not have suffered you to give me -particulars of a conversation which you ought not to have known -yourself. How could you behave so unfairly by your sister?" - -"Oh, la! there is nothing in _that._ I only stood at the door, and -heard what I could. And I am sure Lucy would have done just the same -by me; for a year or two back, when Martha Sharpe and I had so many -secrets together, she never made any bones of hiding in a closet, or -behind a chimney-board, on purpose to hear what we said." - -Elinor tried to talk of something else; but Miss Steele could not be -kept beyond a couple of minutes, from what was uppermost in her mind. - -[Illustration: _Listening at the door._] - -"Edward talks of going to Oxford soon," said she; "but now he is -lodging at No. --, Pall Mall. What an ill-natured woman his mother is, -an't she? And your brother and sister were not very kind! However, I -shan't say anything against them to _you_; and to be sure they did -send us home in their own chariot, which was more than I looked for. -And for my part, I was all in a fright for fear your sister should ask -us for the huswifes she had gave us a day or two before; but, however, -nothing was said about them, and I took care to keep mine out of -sight. Edward have got some business at Oxford, he says; so he must go -there for a time; and after _that_, as soon as he can light upon a -Bishop, he will be ordained. I wonder what curacy he will get! Good -gracious! (giggling as she spoke) I'd lay my life I know what my -cousins will say, when they hear of it. They will tell me I should -write to the Doctor, to get Edward the curacy of his new living. I -know they will; but I am sure I would not do such a thing for all the -world. 'La!' I shall say directly, 'I wonder how you could think of -such a thing? I write to the Doctor, indeed!'" - -"Well," said Elinor, "it is a comfort to be prepared against the -worst. You have got your answer ready." - -Miss Steele was going to reply on the same subject, but the approach -of her own party made another more necessary. - -"Oh, la! here come the Richardsons. I had a vast deal more to say to -you, but I must not stay away from them not any longer. I assure you -they are very genteel people. He makes a monstrous deal of money, and -they keep their own coach. I have not time to speak to Mrs. Jennings -about it myself, but pray tell her I am quite happy to hear she is not -in anger against us, and Lady Middleton the same; and if anything -should happen to take you and your sister away, and Mrs. Jennings -should want company, I am sure we should be very glad to come and stay -with her for as long a time as she likes. I suppose Lady Middleton -won't ask us any more this bout. Good-bye; I am sorry Miss Marianne was -not here. Remember me kindly to her. La! if you have not got your -spotted muslin on!--I wonder you was not afraid of its being torn." - -Such was her parting concern; for after this, she had time only to pay -her farewell compliments to Mrs. Jennings, before her company was -claimed by Mrs. Richardson; and Elinor was left in possession of -knowledge which might feed her powers of reflection some time, though -she had learnt very little more than what had been already foreseen -and foreplanned in her own mind. Edward's marriage with Lucy was as -firmly determined on, and the time of its taking place remained as -absolutely uncertain, as she had concluded it would be;--every thing -depended, exactly after her expectation, on his getting that -preferment, of which, at present, there seemed not the smallest -chance. - -As soon as they returned to the carriage, Mrs. Jennings was eager for -information; but as Elinor wished to spread as little as possible -intelligence that had in the first place been so unfairly obtained, -she confined herself to the brief repetition of such simple -particulars, as she felt assured that Lucy, for the sake of her own -consequence, would choose to have known. The continuance of their -engagement, and the means that were able to be taken for promoting its -end, was all her communication; and this produced from Mrs. Jennings -the following natural remark:-- - -"Wait for his having a living!--ay, we all know how _that_ will -end:--they will wait a twelvemonth, and finding no good comes of it, -will set down upon a curacy of fifty pounds a-year, with the interest -of his two thousand pounds, and what little matter Mr. Steele and Mr. -Pratt can give her. Then they will have a child every year! and Lord -help 'em! how poor they will be!--I must see what I can give them -towards furnishing their house. Two maids and two men, indeed!--as I -talked of t'other day. No, no, they must get a stout girl of all -works. Betty's sister would never do for them _now._" - -The next morning brought Elinor a letter by the two-penny post from -Lucy herself. It was as follows: - -"Bartlett's Building, March. - - "I hope my dear Miss Dashwood will excuse the liberty I take - of writing to her; but I know your friendship for me will - make you pleased to hear such a good account of myself and - my dear Edward, after all the troubles we have went through - lately, therefore will make no more apologies, but proceed - to say that, thank God! though we have suffered dreadfully, - we are both quite well now, and as happy as we must always - be in one another's love. We have had great trials, and - great persecutions, but however, at the same time, - gratefully acknowledge many friends, yourself not the least - among them, whose great kindness I shall always thankfully - remember, as will Edward too, who I have told of it. I am - sure you will be glad to hear, as likewise dear Mrs. - Jennings, I spent two happy hours with him yesterday - afternoon, he would not hear of our parting, though - earnestly did I, as I thought my duty required, urge him to - it for prudence sake, and would have parted for ever on the - spot, would he consent to it; but he said it should never - be, he did not regard his mother's anger, while he could - have my affections; our prospects are not very bright, to be - sure, but we must wait, and hope for the best; he will be - ordained shortly; and should it ever be in your power to - recommend him to any body that has a living to bestow, am - very sure you will not forget us, and dear Mrs. Jennings - too, trust she will speak a good word for us to Sir John, or - Mr. Palmer, or any friend that may be able to assist us. - Poor Anne was much to blame for what she did, but she did it - for the best, so I say nothing; hope Mrs. Jennings won't - think it too much trouble to give us a call, should she come - this way any morning, 'twould be a great kindness, and my - cousins would be proud to know her. My paper reminds me to - conclude; and begging to be most gratefully and respectfully - remembered to her, and to Sir John, and Lady Middleton, and - the dear children, when you chance to see them, and love to - Miss Marianne, - -"I am, etc., etc." - -As soon as Elinor had finished it, she performed what she concluded to -be its writer's real design, by placing it in the hands of Mrs. -Jennings, who read it aloud with many comments of satisfaction and -praise. - -"Very well indeed!--how prettily she writes!--aye, that was quite -proper to let him be off if he would. That was just like Lucy. Poor -soul! I wish I _could_ get him a living, with all my heart. She calls -me dear Mrs. Jennings, you see. She is a good-hearted girl as ever -lived. Very well upon my word. That sentence is very prettily turned. -Yes, yes, I will go and see her, sure enough. How attentive she is, to -think of every body!--Thank you, my dear, for showing it me. It is as -pretty a letter as ever I saw, and does Lucy's head and heart great -credit." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - - -The Miss Dashwoods had now been rather more than two months in town, -and Marianne's impatience to be gone increased every day. She sighed -for the air, the liberty, the quiet of the country; and fancied that -if any place could give her ease, Barton must do it. Elinor was hardly -less anxious than herself for their removal, and only so much less -bent on its being effected immediately, as that she was conscious of -the difficulties of so long a journey, which Marianne could not be -brought to acknowledge. She began, however, seriously to turn her -thoughts towards its accomplishment, and had already mentioned their -wishes to their kind hostess, who resisted them with all the eloquence -of her good-will, when a plan was suggested, which, though detaining -them from home yet a few weeks longer, appeared to Elinor altogether -much more eligible than any other. The Palmers were to remove to -Cleveland about the end of March, for the Easter holidays; and Mrs. -Jennings, with both her friends, received a very warm invitation from -Charlotte to go with them. This would not, in itself, have been -sufficient for the delicacy of Miss Dashwood;--but it was enforced -with so much real politeness by Mr. Palmer himself, as, joined to the -very great amendment of his manners towards them since her sister had -been known to be unhappy, induced her to accept it with pleasure. - -When she told Marianne what she had done, however, her first reply was -not very auspicious. - -"Cleveland!"--she cried, with great agitation. "No, I cannot go to -Cleveland."-- - -"You forget," said Elinor gently, "that its situation is not--that it -is not in the neighbourhood of--" - -"But it is in Somersetshire. I cannot go into Somersetshire. There, -where I looked forward to going;--no, Elinor, you cannot expect me to -go there." - -Elinor would not argue upon the propriety of overcoming such -feelings;--she only endeavoured to counteract them by working on -others;--represented it, therefore, as a measure which would fix the -time of her returning to that dear mother, whom she so much wished to -see, in a more eligible, more comfortable manner, than any other plan -could do, and perhaps without any greater delay. From Cleveland, which -was within a few miles of Bristol, the distance to Barton was not -beyond one day, though a long day's journey; and their mother's -servant might easily come there to attend them down; and as there -could be no occasion of their staying above a week at Cleveland, they -might now be at home in little more than three weeks' time. As -Marianne's affection for her mother was sincere, it must triumph with -little difficulty, over the imaginary evils she had started. - -Mrs. Jennings was so far from being weary of her guest, that she -pressed them very earnestly to return with her again from Cleveland. -Elinor was grateful for the attention, but it could not alter her -design; and their mother's concurrence being readily gained, every -thing relative to their return was arranged as far as it could -be;--and Marianne found some relief in drawing up a statement of the -hours that were yet to divide her from Barton. - -"Ah! Colonel, I do not know what you and I shall do without the Miss -Dashwoods;"--was Mrs. Jennings's address to him when he first called -on her, after their leaving her was settled--"for they are quite -resolved upon going home from the Palmers;--and how forlorn we shall -be, when I come back!--Lord! we shall sit and gape at one another as -dull as two cats." - -Perhaps Mrs. Jennings was in hopes, by this vigorous sketch of their -future ennui, to provoke him to make that offer, which might give -himself an escape from it; and if so, she had soon afterwards good -reason to think her object gained; for, on Elinor's moving to the -window to take more expeditiously the dimensions of a print, which she -was going to copy for her friend, he followed her to it with a look of -particular meaning, and conversed with her there for several minutes. -The effect of his discourse on the lady too, could not escape her -observation, for though she was too honorable to listen, and had even -changed her seat, on purpose that she might _not_ hear, to one close -by the piano forte on which Marianne was playing, she could not keep -herself from seeing that Elinor changed colour, attended with -agitation, and was too intent on what he said to pursue her -employment. Still farther in confirmation of her hopes, in the -interval of Marianne's turning from one lesson to another, some words -of the Colonel's inevitably reached her ear, in which he seemed to be -apologising for the badness of his house. This set the matter beyond a -doubt. She wondered, indeed, at his thinking it necessary to do so; -but supposed it to be the proper etiquette. What Elinor said in reply -she could not distinguish, but judged from the motion of her lips, -that she did not think _that_ any material objection;--and Mrs. -Jennings commended her in her heart for being so honest. They then -talked on for a few minutes longer without her catching a syllable, -when another lucky stop in Marianne's performance brought her these -words in the Colonel's calm voice,-- - -"I am afraid it cannot take place very soon." - -Astonished and shocked at so unlover-like a speech, she was almost -ready to cry out, "Lord! what should hinder it?"--but checking her -desire, confined herself to this silent ejaculation. - -"This is very strange!--sure he need not wait to be older." - -This delay on the Colonel's side, however, did not seem to offend or -mortify his fair companion in the least, for on their breaking up the -conference soon afterwards, and moving different ways, Mrs. Jennings -very plainly heard Elinor say, and with a voice which showed her to -feel what she said-- - -"I shall always think myself very much obliged to you." - -Mrs. Jennings was delighted with her gratitude, and only wondered that -after hearing such a sentence, the Colonel should be able to take -leave of them, as he immediately did, with the utmost sang-froid, and -go away without making her any reply!--She had not thought her old -friend could have made so indifferent a suitor. - -What had really passed between them was to this effect. - -"I have heard," said he, with great compassion, "of the injustice your -friend Mr. Ferrars has suffered from his family; for if I understand -the matter right, he has been entirely cast off by them for -persevering in his engagement with a very deserving young woman. Have -I been rightly informed?--Is it so?--" - -Elinor told him that it was. - -"The cruelty, the impolitic cruelty,"--he replied, with great -feeling,--"of dividing, or attempting to divide, two young people -long attached to each other, is terrible. Mrs. Ferrars does not know -what she may be doing--what she may drive her son to. I have seen Mr. -Ferrars two or three times in Harley Street, and am much pleased with -him. He is not a young man with whom one can be intimately acquainted -in a short time, but I have seen enough of him to wish him well for -his own sake, and as a friend of yours, I wish it still more. I -understand that he intends to take orders. Will you be so good as to -tell him that the living of Delaford, now just vacant, as I am -informed by this day's post, is his, if he think it worth his -acceptance--but _that_, perhaps, so unfortunately circumstanced as he -is now, it may be nonsense to appear to doubt; I only wish it were -more valuable. It is a rectory, but a small one; the late incumbent, I -believe, did not make more than 200 L per annum, and though it is -certainly capable of improvement, I fear, not to such an amount as to -afford him a very comfortable income. Such as it is, however, my -pleasure in presenting him to it, will be very great. Pray assure him -of it." - -Elinor's astonishment at this commission could hardly have been -greater, had the Colonel been really making her an offer of his hand. -The preferment, which only two days before she had considered as -hopeless for Edward, was already provided to enable him to marry;--and -_she_, of all people in the world, was fixed on to bestow it!--Her -emotion was such as Mrs. Jennings had attributed to a very different -cause;--but whatever minor feelings less pure, less pleasing, might -have a share in that emotion, her esteem for the general benevolence, -and her gratitude for the particular friendship, which together -prompted Colonel Brandon to this act, were strongly felt, and warmly -expressed. She thanked him for it with all her heart, spoke of -Edward's principles and disposition with that praise which she knew -them to deserve; and promised to undertake the commission with -pleasure, if it were really his wish to put off so agreeable an office -to another. But at the same time, she could not help thinking that no -one could so well perform it as himself. It was an office in short, -from which, unwilling to give Edward the pain of receiving an -obligation from _her_, she would have been very glad to be spared -herself; but Colonel Brandon, on motives of equal delicacy, declining -it likewise, still seemed so desirous of its being given through her -means, that she would not on any account make farther opposition. -Edward, she believed, was still in town, and fortunately she had heard -his address from Miss Steele. She could undertake therefore to inform -him of it, in the course of the day. After this had been settled, -Colonel Brandon began to talk of his own advantage in securing so -respectable and agreeable a neighbour, and _then_ it was that he -mentioned with regret, that the house was small and indifferent; an -evil which Elinor, as Mrs. Jennings had supposed her to do, made very -light of, at least as far as regarded its size. - -"The smallness of the house," said she, "I cannot imagine any -inconvenience to them, for it will be in proportion to their family -and income." - -By which the Colonel was surprised to find that _she_ was considering -Mr. Ferrars's marriage as the certain consequence of the presentation; -for he did not suppose it possible that Delaford living could supply -such an income, as anybody in his style of life would venture to -settle on, and he said so. - -"This little rectory _can_ do no more than make Mr. Ferrars -comfortable as a bachelor; it cannot enable him to marry. I am sorry -to say that my patronage ends with this; and my interest is hardly -more extensive. If, however, by an unforeseen chance it should be in -my power to serve him farther, I must think very differently of him -from what I now do, if I am not as ready to be useful to him then as I -sincerely wish I could be at present. What I am now doing indeed, -seems nothing at all, since it can advance him so little towards what -must be his principal, his only object of happiness. His marriage must -still be a distant good;--at least, I am afraid it cannot take place -very soon." - -Such was the sentence which, when misunderstood, so justly offended -the delicate feelings of Mrs. Jennings; but after this narration of -what really passed between Colonel Brandon and Elinor, while they -stood at the window, the gratitude expressed by the latter on their -parting, may perhaps appear in general, not less reasonably excited, -nor less properly worded than if it had arisen from an offer of -marriage. - - - - -CHAPTER XL - - -"Well, Miss Dashwood," said Mrs. Jennings, sagaciously smiling, as -soon as the gentleman had withdrawn, "I do not ask you what the -Colonel has been saying to you; for though, upon my honour, I _tried_ -to keep out of hearing, I could not help catching enough to understand -his business. And I assure you I never was better pleased in my life, -and I wish you joy of it with all my heart." - -"Thank you, ma'am," said Elinor. "It is a matter of great joy to me; -and I feel the goodness of Colonel Brandon most sensibly. There are -not many men who would act as he has done. Few people who have so -compassionate a heart! I never was more astonished in my life." - -"Lord! my dear, you are very modest. I an't the least astonished at it -in the world, for I have often thought of late, there was nothing more -likely to happen." - -"You judged from your knowledge of the Colonel's general benevolence; -but at least you could not foresee that the opportunity would so very -soon occur." - -"Opportunity!" repeated Mrs. Jennings--"Oh! as to that, when a man has -once made up his mind to such a thing, somehow or other he will soon -find an opportunity. Well, my dear, I wish you joy of it again and -again; and if ever there was a happy couple in the world, I think I -shall soon know where to look for them." - -"You mean to go to Delaford after them I suppose," said Elinor, with a -faint smile. - -"Aye, my dear, that I do, indeed. And as to the house being a bad one, -I do not know what the Colonel would be at, for it is as good a one as -ever I saw." - -"He spoke of its being out of repair." - -"Well, and whose fault is that? why don't he repair it? who should do -it but himself?" - -They were interrupted by the servant's coming in to announce the -carriage being at the door; and Mrs. Jennings immediately preparing to -go, said-- - -"Well, my dear, I must be gone before I have had half my talk out. -But, however, we may have it all over in the evening; for we shall be -quite alone. I do not ask you to go with me, for I dare say your mind -is too full of the matter to care for company; and besides, you must -long to tell your sister all about it." - -Marianne had left the room before the conversation began. - -"Certainly, ma'am, I shall tell Marianne of it; but I shall not -mention it at present to any body else." - -"Oh! very well," said Mrs. Jennings rather disappointed. "Then you -would not have me tell it to Lucy, for I think of going as far as -Holborn to-day." - -"No, ma'am, not even Lucy if you please. One day's delay will not be -very material; and till I have written to Mr. Ferrars, I think it -ought not to be mentioned to any body else. I shall do _that_ -directly. It is of importance that no time should be lost with him, -for he will of course have much to do relative to his ordination." - -This speech at first puzzled Mrs. Jennings exceedingly. Why Mr. -Ferrars was to have been written to about it in such a hurry, she -could not immediately comprehend. A few moments' reflection, however, -produced a very happy idea, and she exclaimed-- - -"Oh, ho! I understand you. Mr. Ferrars is to be the man. Well, so much -the better for him. Ay, to be sure, he must be ordained in readiness; -and I am very glad to find things are so forward between you. But, my -dear, is not this rather out of character? Should not the Colonel -write himself? Sure, he is the proper person." - -Elinor did not quite understand the beginning of Mrs. Jennings's -speech, neither did she think it worth inquiring into; and therefore -only replied to its conclusion. - -"Colonel Brandon is so delicate a man, that he rather wished any one -to announce his intentions to Mr. Ferrars than himself." - -"And so _you_ are forced to do it. Well _that_ is an odd kind of -delicacy! However, I will not disturb you (seeing her preparing to -write.) You know your own concerns best. So good-bye, my dear. I have -not heard of any thing to please me so well since Charlotte was -brought to bed." - -And away she went; but returning again in a moment-- - -"I have just been thinking of Betty's sister, my dear. I should be -very glad to get her so good a mistress. But whether she would do for -a lady's maid, I am sure I can't tell. She is an excellent housemaid, -and works very well at her needle. However, you will think of all that -at your leisure." - -"Certainly, ma'am," replied Elinor, not hearing much of what she said, -and more anxious to be alone, than to be mistress of the subject. - -How she should begin--how she should express herself in her note to -Edward, was now all her concern. The particular circumstances between -them made a difficulty of that which to any other person would have -been the easiest thing in the world; but she equally feared to say too -much or too little, and sat deliberating over her paper, with the pen -in her hand, till broken in on by the entrance of Edward himself. - -He had met Mrs. Jennings at the door in her way to the carriage, as he -came to leave his farewell card; and she, after apologising for not -returning herself, had obliged him to enter, by saying that Miss -Dashwood was above, and wanted to speak with him on very particular -business. - -Elinor had just been congratulating herself, in the midst of her -perplexity, that however difficult it might be to express herself -properly by letter, it was at least preferable to giving the -information by word of mouth, when her visitor entered, to force her -upon this greatest exertion of all. Her astonishment and confusion -were very great on his so sudden appearance. She had not seen him -before since his engagement became public, and therefore not since his -knowing her to be acquainted with it; which, with the consciousness of -what she had been thinking of, and what she had to tell him, made her -feel particularly uncomfortable for some minutes. He too was much -distressed; and they sat down together in a most promising state of -embarrassment. Whether he had asked her pardon for his intrusion on -first coming into the room, he could not recollect; but determining to -be on the safe side, he made his apology in form as soon as he could -say any thing, after taking a chair. - -"Mrs. Jennings told me," said he, "that you wished to speak with me, -at least I understood her so--or I certainly should not have intruded -on you in such a manner; though at the same time, I should have been -extremely sorry to leave London without seeing you and your sister; -especially as it will most likely be some time--it is not probable -that I should soon have the pleasure of meeting you again. I go to -Oxford tomorrow." - -"You would not have gone, however," said Elinor, recovering herself, -and determined to get over what she so much dreaded as soon as -possible, "without receiving our good wishes, even if we had not been -able to give them in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she -said. I have something of consequence to inform you of, which I was on -the point of communicating by paper. I am charged with a most -agreeable office (breathing rather faster than usual as she spoke.) -Colonel Brandon, who was here only ten minutes ago, has desired me to -say, that understanding you mean to take orders, he has great pleasure -in offering you the living of Delaford now just vacant, and only -wishes it were more valuable. Allow me to congratulate you on having -so respectable and well-judging a friend, and to join in his wish that -the living--it is about two hundred a-year--were much more -considerable, and such as might better enable you to--as might be more -than a temporary accommodation to yourself--such, in short, as might -establish all your views of happiness." - -What Edward felt, as he could not say it himself, it cannot be -expected that any one else should say for him. He _looked_ all the -astonishment which such unexpected, such unthought-of information -could not fail of exciting; but he said only these two words-- - -"Colonel Brandon!" - -"Yes," continued Elinor, gathering more resolution, as some of the -worst was over, "Colonel Brandon means it as a testimony of his -concern for what has lately passed--for the cruel situation in which -the unjustifiable conduct of your family has placed you--a concern -which I am sure Marianne, myself, and all your friends, must share; -and likewise as a proof of his high esteem for your general character, -and his particular approbation of your behaviour on the present -occasion." - -"Colonel Brandon give _me_ a living!--Can it be possible?" - -"The unkindness of your own relations has made you astonished to find -friendship any where." - -"No," replied be, with sudden consciousness, "not to find it in _you_; -for I cannot be ignorant that to you, to your goodness, I owe it all. -I feel it--I would express it if I could--but, as you well know, I am -no orator." - -"You are very much mistaken. I do assure you that you owe it entirely, -at least almost entirely, to your own merit, and Colonel Brandon's -discernment of it. I have had no hand in it. I did not even know, till -I understood his design, that the living was vacant; nor had it ever -occurred to me that he might have had such a living in his gift. As a -friend of mine, of my family, he may, perhaps--indeed I know he _has_, -still greater pleasure in bestowing it; but, upon my word, you owe -nothing to my solicitation." - -Truth obliged her to acknowledge some small share in the action, but -she was at the same time so unwilling to appear as the benefactress of -Edward, that she acknowledged it with hesitation; which probably -contributed to fix that suspicion in his mind which had recently -entered it. For a short time he sat deep in thought, after Elinor had -ceased to speak;--at last, and as if it were rather an effort, he -said-- - -"Colonel Brandon seems a man of great worth and respectability. I have -always heard him spoken of as such, and your brother I know esteems -him highly. He is undoubtedly a sensible man, and in his manners -perfectly the gentleman." - -"Indeed," replied Elinor, "I believe that you will find him, on -farther acquaintance, all that you have heard him to be, and as you -will be such very near neighbours (for I understand the parsonage is -almost close to the mansion-house,) it is particularly important that -he _should_ be all this." - -Edward made no answer; but when she had turned away her head, gave her -a look so serious, so earnest, so uncheerful, as seemed to say, that -he might hereafter wish the distance between the parsonage and the -mansion-house much greater. - -"Colonel Brandon, I think, lodges in St. James Street," said he, soon -afterwards, rising from his chair. - -Elinor told him the number of the house. - -"I must hurry away then, to give him those thanks which you will not -allow me to give _you_; to assure him that he has made me a very--an -exceedingly happy man." - -Elinor did not offer to detain him; and they parted, with a very -earnest assurance on _her_ side of her unceasing good wishes for his -happiness in every change of situation that might befall him; on -_his_, with rather an attempt to return the same good will, than the -power of expressing it. - -"When I see him again," said Elinor to herself, as the door shut him -out, "I shall see him the husband of Lucy." - -And with this pleasing anticipation, she sat down to reconsider the -past, recall the words and endeavour to comprehend all the feelings of -Edward; and, of course, to reflect on her own with discontent. - -When Mrs. Jennings came home, though she returned from seeing people -whom she had never seen before, and of whom therefore she must have a -great deal to say, her mind was so much more occupied by the important -secret in her possession, than by anything else, that she reverted to -it again as soon as Elinor appeared. - -"Well, my dear," she cried, "I sent you up the young man. Did not I do -right?--And I suppose you had no great difficulty--You did not find -him very unwilling to accept your proposal?" - -"No, ma'am; _that_ was not very likely." - -"Well, and how soon will he be ready?--For it seems all to depend upon -that." - -"Really," said Elinor, "I know so little of these kind of forms, that -I can hardly even conjecture as to the time, or the preparation -necessary; but I suppose two or three months will complete his -ordination." - -"Two or three months!" cried Mrs. Jennings; "Lord! my dear, how calmly -you talk of it; and can the Colonel wait two or three months! Lord -bless me!--I am sure it would put _me_ quite out of patience!--And -though one would be very glad to do a kindness by poor Mr. Ferrars, I -do think it is not worth while to wait two or three months for him. -Sure somebody else might be found that would do as well; somebody that -is in orders already." - -"My dear ma'am," said Elinor, "what can you be thinking of? Why, -Colonel Brandon's only object is to be of use to Mr. Ferrars." - -"Lord bless you, my dear! Sure you do not mean to persuade me that the -Colonel only marries you for the sake of giving ten guineas to Mr. -Ferrars!" - -[Illustration: _Both gained considerable amusement_] - -The deception could not continue after this; and an explanation -immediately took place, by which both gained considerable amusement -for the moment, without any material loss of happiness to either, for -Mrs. Jennings only exchanged one form of delight for another, and -still without forfeiting her expectation of the first. - -"Aye, aye, the parsonage is but a small one," said she, after the -first ebullition of surprise and satisfaction was over, "and very -likely _may_ be out of repair; but to hear a man apologising, as I -thought, for a house that to my knowledge has five sitting rooms on -the ground-floor, and I think the housekeeper told me could make up -fifteen beds! and to you too, that had been used to live in Barton -cottage! It seems quite ridiculous. But, my dear, we must touch up the -Colonel to do some thing to the parsonage, and make it comfortable for -them, before Lucy goes to it." - -"But Colonel Brandon does not seem to have any idea of the living's -being enough to allow them to marry." - -"The Colonel is a ninny, my dear; because he has two thousand a-year -himself, he thinks that nobody else can marry on less. Take my word -for it, that, if I am alive, I shall be paying a visit at Delaford -Parsonage before Michaelmas; and I am sure I shan't go if Lucy an't -there." - -Elinor was quite of her opinion, as to the probability of their not -waiting for any thing more. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI - - -Edward, having carried his thanks to Colonel Brandon, proceeded with -his happiness to Lucy; and such was the excess of it by the time he -reached Bartlett's Buildings, that she was able to assure Mrs. -Jennings, who called on her again the next day with her -congratulations, that she had never seen him in such spirits before in -her life. - -Her own happiness, and her own spirits, were at least very certain; -and she joined Mrs. Jennings most heartily in her expectation of their -being all comfortably together in Delaford Parsonage before -Michaelmas. So far was she, at the same time, from any backwardness to -give Elinor that credit which Edward _would_ give her, that she spoke -of her friendship for them both with the most grateful warmth, was -ready to own all their obligation to her, and openly declared that no -exertion for their good on Miss Dashwood's part, either present or -future, would ever surprise her, for she believed her capable of doing -any thing in the world for those she really valued. As for Colonel -Brandon, she was not only ready to worship him as a saint, but was -moreover truly anxious that he should be treated as one in all worldly -concerns; anxious that his tithes should be raised to the utmost; and -scarcely resolved to avail herself, at Delaford, as far as she -possibly could, of his servants, his carriage, his cows, and his -poultry. - -It was now above a week since John Dashwood had called in Berkeley -Street, and as since that time no notice had been taken by them of his -wife's indisposition, beyond one verbal enquiry, Elinor began to feel -it necessary to pay her a visit. This was an obligation, however, -which not only opposed her own inclination, but which had not the -assistance of any encouragement from her companions. Marianne, not -contented with absolutely refusing to go herself, was very urgent to -prevent her sister's going at all; and Mrs. Jennings, though her -carriage was always at Elinor's service, so very much disliked Mrs. -John Dashwood, that not even her curiosity to see how she looked after -the late discovery, nor her strong desire to affront her by taking -Edward's part, could overcome her unwillingness to be in her company -again. The consequence was, that Elinor set out by herself to pay a -visit, for which no one could really have less inclination, and to run -the risk of a tête-à-tête with a woman, whom neither of the others had -so much reason to dislike. - -Mrs. Dashwood was denied; but before the carriage could turn from the -house, her husband accidentally came out. He expressed great pleasure -in meeting Elinor, told her that he had been just going to call in -Berkeley Street, and, assuring her that Fanny would be very glad to -see her, invited her to come in. - -They walked up stairs in to the drawing-room. Nobody was there. - -"Fanny is in her own room, I suppose," said he:--"I will go to her -presently, for I am sure she will not have the least objection in the -world to seeing _you._ Very far from it, indeed. _Now_ especially -there cannot be--but however, you and Marianne were always great -favourites. Why would not Marianne come?"-- - -Elinor made what excuse she could for her. - -"I am not sorry to see you alone," he replied, "for I have a good deal -to say to you. This living of Colonel Brandon's--can it be true?--has -he really given it to Edward?--I heard it yesterday by chance, and was -coming to you on purpose to enquire farther about it." - -"It is perfectly true. Colonel Brandon has given the living of -Delaford to Edward." - -"Really!--Well, this is very astonishing!--no relationship!--no -connection between them!--and now that livings fetch such a -price!--what was the value of this?" - -"About two hundred a year." - -"Very well--and for the next presentation to a living of that -value--supposing the late incumbent to have been old and sickly, and -likely to vacate it soon--he might have got I dare say--fourteen -hundred pounds. And how came he not to have settled that matter before -this person's death? _Now_ indeed it would be too late to sell it, but -a man of Colonel Brandon's sense!--I wonder he should be so -improvident in a point of such common, such natural, concern!--Well, I -am convinced that there is a vast deal of inconsistency in almost -every human character. I suppose, however--on recollection--that the -case may probably be _this._ Edward is only to hold the living till -the person to whom the Colonel has really sold the presentation, is -old enough to take it. Aye, aye, that is the fact, depend upon it." - -Elinor contradicted it, however, very positively; and by relating that -she had herself been employed in conveying the offer from Colonel -Brandon to Edward, and, therefore, must understand the terms on which -it was given, obliged him to submit to her authority. - -"It is truly astonishing!"--he cried, after hearing what she -said--"what could be the Colonel's motive?" - -"A very simple one--to be of use to Mr. Ferrars." - -"Well, well; whatever Colonel Brandon may be, Edward is a very lucky -man. You will not mention the matter to Fanny, however, for though I -have broke it to her, and she bears it vastly well,--she will not like -to hear it much talked of." - -Elinor had some difficulty here to refrain from observing, that she -thought Fanny might have borne with composure, an acquisition of -wealth to her brother, by which neither she nor her child could be -possibly impoverished. - -"Mrs. Ferrars," added he, lowering his voice to the tone becoming so -important a subject, "knows nothing about it at present, and I believe -it will be best to keep it entirely concealed from her as long as may -be. When the marriage takes place, I fear she must hear of it all." - -"But why should such precaution be used? Though it is not to be -supposed that Mrs. Ferrars can have the smallest satisfaction in -knowing that her son has money enough to live upon,--for _that_ must -be quite out of the question; yet why, upon her late behaviour, is she -supposed to feel at all? She has done with her son, she cast him off -for ever, and has made all those over whom she had any influence, cast -him off likewise. Surely, after doing so, she cannot be imagined -liable to any impression of sorrow or of joy on his account--she -cannot be interested in any thing that befalls him. She would not be -so weak as to throw away the comfort of a child, and yet retain the -anxiety of a parent!" - -"Ah! Elinor," said John, "your reasoning is very good, but it is -founded on ignorance of human nature. When Edward's unhappy match -takes place, depend upon it his mother will feel as much as if she had -never discarded him; and, therefore every circumstance that may -accelerate that dreadful event, must be concealed from her as much as -possible. Mrs. Ferrars can never forget that Edward is her son." - -"You surprise me; I should think it must nearly have escaped her -memory by _this_ time." - -"You wrong her exceedingly. Mrs. Ferrars is one of the most -affectionate mothers in the world." - -Elinor was silent. - -"We think _now_,"--said Mr. Dashwood, after a short pause, "of -_Robert's_ marrying Miss Morton." - -Elinor, smiling at the grave and decisive importance of her brother's -tone, calmly replied-- - -"The lady, I suppose, has no choice in the affair." - -"Choice!--how do you mean?" - -"I only mean that I suppose, from your manner of speaking, it must be -the same to Miss Morton whether she marry Edward or Robert." - -"Certainly, there can be no difference; for Robert will now to all -intents and purposes be considered as the eldest son;--and as to any -thing else, they are both very agreeable young men: I do not know that -one is superior to the other." - -Elinor said no more, and John was also for a short time silent. His -reflections ended thus. - -"Of _one_ thing, my dear sister," kindly taking her hand, and speaking -in an awful whisper,--"I may assure you; and I _will_ do it, because I -know it must gratify you. I have good reason to think--indeed I have -it from the best authority, or I should not repeat it, for otherwise -it would be very wrong to say any thing about it,--but I have it from -the very best authority,--not that I ever precisely heard Mrs. Ferrars -say it herself--but her daughter _did_, and I have it from her,--that -in short, whatever objections there might be against a certain--a -certain connection, you understand me,--it would have been far -preferable to her, it would not have given her half the vexation that -_this_ does. I was exceedingly pleased to hear that Mrs. Ferrars -considered it in that light; a very gratifying circumstance you know -to us all. 'It would have been beyond comparison,' she said, 'the -least evil of the two, and she would be glad to compound _now_ for -nothing worse.' But however, all that is quite out of the -question,--not to be thought of or mentioned. As to any attachment you -know, it never could be; all that is gone by. But I thought I would -just tell you of this, because I knew how much it must please you. Not -that you have any reason to regret, my dear Elinor. There is no doubt -of your doing exceedingly well,--quite as well, or better, perhaps, -all things considered. Has Colonel Brandon been with you lately?" - -Elinor had heard enough, if not to gratify her vanity, and raise her -self-importance, to agitate her nerves and fill her mind;--and she was -therefore glad to be spared from the necessity of saying much in reply -herself, and from the danger of hearing any thing more from her -brother, by the entrance of Mr. Robert Ferrars. After a few moments' -chat, John Dashwood, recollecting that Fanny was yet uninformed of her -sister's being there, quitted the room in quest of her; and Elinor was -left to improve her acquaintance with Robert, who, by the gay -unconcern, the happy self-complacency of his manner while enjoying so -unfair a division of his mother's love and liberality, to the -prejudice of his banished brother, earned only by his own dissipated -course of life, and that brother's integrity, was confirming her most -unfavourable opinion of his head and heart. - -[Illustration: "_Of one thing I may assure you._"] - -They had scarcely been two minutes by themselves, before he began to -speak of Edward; for he, too, had heard of the living, and was very -inquisitive on the subject. Elinor repeated the particulars of it, as -she had given them to John; and their effect on Robert, though very -different, was not less striking than it had been on _him._ He laughed -most immoderately. The idea of Edward's being a clergyman, and living -in a small parsonage-house, diverted him beyond measure;--and when to -that was added the fanciful imagery of Edward reading prayers in a -white surplice, and publishing the banns of marriage between John -Smith and Mary Brown, he could conceive nothing more ridiculous. - -Elinor, while she waited in silence and immovable gravity, the -conclusion of such folly, could not restrain her eyes from being fixed -on him with a look that spoke all the contempt it excited. It was a -look, however, very well bestowed, for it relieved her own feelings, -and gave no intelligence to him. He was recalled from wit to wisdom, -not by any reproof of her's, but by his own sensibility. - -"We may treat it as a joke," said he, at last, recovering from the -affected laugh which had considerably lengthened out the genuine -gaiety of the moment; "but, upon my soul, it is a most serious -business. Poor Edward! he is ruined for ever. I am extremely sorry for -it; for I know him to be a very good-hearted creature,--as -well-meaning a fellow perhaps, as any in the world. You must not judge -of him, Miss Dashwood, from _your_ slight acquaintance. Poor Edward! -His manners are certainly not the happiest in nature. But we are not -all born, you know, with the same powers,--the same address. Poor -fellow! to see him in a circle of strangers! to be sure it was -pitiable enough; but upon my soul, I believe he has as good a heart as -any in the kingdom; and I declare and protest to you I never was so -shocked in my life, as when it all burst forth. I could not believe -it. My mother was the first person who told me of it; and I, feeling -myself called on to act with resolution, immediately said to her,--'My -dear madam, I do not know what you may intend to do on the occasion, -but as for myself, I must say, that if Edward does marry this young -woman, I never will see him again.' That was what I said immediately. -I was most uncommonly shocked, indeed! Poor Edward! he has done for -himself completely,--shut himself out for ever from all decent -society! but, as I directly said to my mother, I am not in the least -surprised at it; from his style of education, it was always to be -expected. My poor mother was half frantic." - -"Have you ever seen the lady?" - -"Yes; once, while she was staying in this house, I happened to drop in -for ten minutes; and I saw quite enough of her. The merest awkward -country girl, without style, or elegance, and almost without beauty. I -remember her perfectly. Just the kind of girl I should suppose likely -to captivate poor Edward. I offered immediately, as soon as my mother -related the affair to me, to talk to him myself, and dissuade him from -the match; but it was too late _then_, I found, to do any thing, for -unluckily, I was not in the way at first, and knew nothing of it till -after the breach had taken place, when it was not for me, you know, to -interfere. But had I been informed of it a few hours earlier, I think -it is most probable that something might have been hit on. I certainly -should have represented it to Edward in a very strong light. 'My dear -fellow,' I should have said, 'consider what you are doing. You are -making a most disgraceful connection, and such a one as your family -are unanimous in disapproving.' I cannot help thinking, in short, that -means might have been found. But now it is all too late. He must be -starved, you know, that is certain; absolutely starved." - -He had just settled this point with great composure, when the entrance -of Mrs. John Dashwood put an end to the subject. But though _she_ -never spoke of it out of her own family, Elinor could see its -influence on her mind, in the something like confusion of countenance -with which she entered, and an attempt at cordiality in her behaviour -to herself. She even proceeded so far as to be concerned to find that -Elinor and her sister were so soon to leave town, as she had hoped to -see more of them;--an exertion in which her husband, who attended her -into the room, and hung enamoured over her accents, seemed to -distinguish every thing that was most affectionate and graceful. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - - -One other short call in Harley Street, in which Elinor received her -brother's congratulations on their travelling so far towards Barton -without any expense, and on Colonel Brandon's being to follow them to -Cleveland in a day or two, completed the intercourse of the brother -and sisters in town;--and a faint invitation from Fanny, to come to -Norland whenever it should happen to be in their way, which of all -things was the most unlikely to occur, with a more warm, though less -public, assurance, from John to Elinor, of the promptitude with which -he should come to see her at Delaford, was all that foretold any -meeting in the country. - -It amused her to observe that all her friends seemed determined to -send her to Delaford;--a place, in which, of all others, she would now -least choose to visit, or wish to reside; for not only was it -considered as her future home by her brother and Mrs. Jennings, but -even Lucy, when they parted, gave her a pressing invitation to visit -her there. - -Very early in April, and tolerably early in the day, the two parties -from Hanover Square and Berkeley Street set out from their respective -homes, to meet, by appointment, on the road. For the convenience of -Charlotte and her child, they were to be more than two days on their -journey, and Mr. Palmer, travelling more expeditiously with Colonel -Brandon, was to join them at Cleveland soon after their arrival. - -Marianne, few as had been her hours of comfort in London, and eager as -she had long been to quit it, could not, when it came to the point, -bid adieu to the house in which she had for the last time enjoyed -those hopes, and that confidence, in Willoughby, which were now -extinguished for ever, without great pain. Nor could she leave the -place in which Willoughby remained, busy in new engagements, and new -schemes, in which _she_ could have no share, without shedding many -tears. - -Elinor's satisfaction, at the moment of removal, was more positive. -She had no such object for her lingering thoughts to fix on, she left -no creature behind, from whom it would give her a moment's regret to -be divided for ever, she was pleased to be free herself from the -persecution of Lucy's friendship, she was grateful for bringing her -sister away unseen by Willoughby since his marriage, and she looked -forward with hope to what a few months of tranquility at Barton might -do towards restoring Marianne's peace of mind, and confirming her own. - -Their journey was safely performed. The second day brought them into -the cherished, or the prohibited, county of Somerset, for as such was -it dwelt on by turns in Marianne's imagination; and in the forenoon of -the third they drove up to Cleveland. - -Cleveland was a spacious, modern-built house, situated on a sloping -lawn. It had no park, but the pleasure-grounds were tolerably -extensive; and like every other place of the same degree of -importance, it had its open shrubbery, and closer wood walk, a road of -smooth gravel winding round a plantation, led to the front, the lawn -was dotted over with timber, the house itself was under the -guardianship of the fir, the mountain-ash, and the acacia, and a thick -screen of them altogether, interspersed with tall Lombardy poplars, -shut out the offices. - -Marianne entered the house with a heart swelling with emotion from the -consciousness of being only eighty miles from Barton, and not thirty -from Combe Magna; and before she had been five minutes within its -walls, while the others were busily helping Charlotte to show her -child to the housekeeper, she quitted it again, stealing away through -the winding shrubberies, now just beginning to be in beauty, to gain a -distant eminence; where, from its Grecian temple, her eye, wandering -over a wide tract of country to the south-east, could fondly rest on -the farthest ridge of hills in the horizon, and fancy that from their -summits Combe Magna might be seen. - -In such moments of precious, invaluable misery, she rejoiced in tears -of agony to be at Cleveland; and as she returned by a different -circuit to the house, feeling all the happy privilege of country -liberty, of wandering from place to place in free and luxurious -solitude, she resolved to spend almost every hour of every day while -she remained with the Palmers, in the indulgence of such solitary -rambles. - -[Illustration: _Showing her child to the housekeeper._] - -She returned just in time to join the others as they quitted the -house, on an excursion through its more immediate premises; and the -rest of the morning was easily whiled away, in lounging round the -kitchen garden, examining the bloom upon its walls, and listening to -the gardener's lamentations upon blights, in dawdling through the -green-house, where the loss of her favourite plants, unwarily exposed, -and nipped by the lingering frost, raised the laughter of -Charlotte,--and in visiting her poultry-yard, where, in the -disappointed hopes of her dairy-maid, by hens forsaking their nests, -or being stolen by a fox, or in the rapid decrease of a promising -young brood, she found fresh sources of merriment. - -The morning was fine and dry, and Marianne, in her plan of employment -abroad, had not calculated for any change of weather during their stay -at Cleveland. With great surprise therefore, did she find herself -prevented by a settled rain from going out again after dinner. She had -depended on a twilight walk to the Grecian temple, and perhaps all -over the grounds, and an evening merely cold or damp would not have -deterred her from it; but a heavy and settled rain even _she_ could -not fancy dry or pleasant weather for walking. - -Their party was small, and the hours passed quietly away. Mrs. Palmer -had her child, and Mrs. Jennings her carpet-work; they talked of the -friends they had left behind, arranged Lady Middleton's engagements, -and wondered whether Mr. Palmer and Colonel Brandon would get farther -than Reading that night. Elinor, however little concerned in it, -joined in their discourse; and Marianne, who had the knack of finding -her way in every house to the library, however it might be avoided by -the family in general, soon procured herself a book. - -Nothing was wanting on Mrs. Palmer's side that constant and friendly -good humour could do, to make them feel themselves welcome. The -openness and heartiness of her manner more than atoned for that want -of recollection and elegance which made her often deficient in the -forms of politeness; her kindness, recommended by so pretty a face, -was engaging; her folly, though evident was not disgusting, because it -was not conceited; and Elinor could have forgiven every thing but her -laugh. - -[Illustration: _The gardener's lamentations._] - -The two gentlemen arrived the next day to a very late dinner, -affording a pleasant enlargement of the party, and a very welcome -variety to their conversation, which a long morning of the same -continued rain had reduced very low. - -Elinor had seen so little of Mr. Palmer, and in that little had seen -so much variety in his address to her sister and herself, that she -knew not what to expect to find him in his own family. She found him, -however, perfectly the gentleman in his behaviour to all his visitors, -and only occasionally rude to his wife and her mother; she found him -very capable of being a pleasant companion, and only prevented from -being so always, by too great an aptitude to fancy himself as much -superior to people in general, as he must feel himself to be to Mrs. -Jennings and Charlotte. For the rest of his character and habits, they -were marked, as far as Elinor could perceive, with no traits at all -unusual in his sex and time of life. He was nice in his eating, -uncertain in his hours; fond of his child, though affecting to slight -it; and idled away the mornings at billiards, which ought to have been -devoted to business. She liked him, however, upon the whole, much -better than she had expected, and in her heart was not sorry that she -could like him no more; not sorry to be driven by the observation of -his epicurism, his selfishness, and his conceit, to rest with -complacency on the remembrance of Edward's generous temper, simple -taste, and diffident feelings. - -Of Edward, or at least of some of his concerns, she now received -intelligence from Colonel Brandon, who had been into Dorsetshire -lately; and who, treating her at once as the disinterested friend of -Mr. Ferrars, and the kind confidante of himself, talked to her a -great deal of the parsonage at Delaford, described its deficiencies, -and told her what he meant to do himself towards removing them. His -behaviour to her in this, as well as in every other particular, his -open pleasure in meeting her after an absence of only ten days, his -readiness to converse with her, and his deference for her opinion, -might very well justify Mrs. Jennings's persuasion of his attachment, -and would have been enough, perhaps, had not Elinor still, as from the -first, believed Marianne his real favourite, to make her suspect it -herself. But as it was, such a notion had scarcely ever entered her -head, except by Mrs. Jennings's suggestion; and she could not help -believing herself the nicest observer of the two: she watched his -eyes, while Mrs. Jennings thought only of his behaviour; and while his -looks of anxious solicitude on Marianne's feeling, in her head and -throat, the beginning of a heavy cold, because unexpressed by words, -entirely escaped the latter lady's observation,--_she_ could discover -in them the quick feelings, and needless alarm of a lover. - -Two delightful twilight walks on the third and fourth evenings of her -being there, not merely on the dry gravel of the shrubbery, but all -over the grounds, and especially in the most distant parts of them, -where there was something more of wildness than in the rest, where the -trees were the oldest, and the grass was the longest and wettest, -had--assisted by the still greater imprudence of sitting in her wet -shoes and stockings--given Marianne a cold so violent as, though for a -day or two trifled with or denied, would force itself by increasing -ailments on the concern of every body, and the notice of herself. -Prescriptions poured in from all quarters, and as usual, were all -declined. Though heavy and feverish, with a pain in her limbs, and a -cough, and a sore throat, a good night's rest was to cure her -entirely; and it was with difficulty that Elinor prevailed on her, -when she went to bed, to try one or two of the simplest of the -remedies. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - - -Marianne got up the next morning at her usual time; to every inquiry -replied that she was better, and tried to prove herself so, by -engaging in her accustomary employments. But a day spent in sitting -shivering over the fire with a book in her hand, which she was unable -to read, or in lying, weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak much -in favour of her amendment; and when, at last, she went early to bed, -more and more indisposed, Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her -sister's composure, who, though attending and nursing her the whole -day, against Marianne's inclination, and forcing proper medicines on -her at night, trusted, like Marianne, to the certainty and efficacy of -sleep, and felt no real alarm. - -A very restless and feverish night, however, disappointed the -expectation of both; and when Marianne, after persisting in rising, -confessed herself unable to sit up, and returned voluntarily to her -bed, Elinor was very ready to adopt Mrs. Jennings's advice, of sending -for the Palmers' apothecary. - -He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging Miss Dashwood to -expect that a very few days would restore her sister to health, yet, -by pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid tendency, and allowing -the word "infection" to pass his lips, gave instant alarm to Mrs. -Palmer, on her baby's account. Mrs. Jennings, who had been inclined -from the first to think Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor, -now looked very grave on Mr. Harris's report, and confirming -Charlotte's fears and caution, urged the necessity of her immediate -removal with her infant; and Mr. Palmer, though treating their -apprehensions as idle, found the anxiety and importunity of his wife -too great to be withstood. Her departure, therefore, was fixed on; and -within an hour after Mr. Harris's arrival, she set off, with her -little boy and his nurse, for the house of a near relation of Mr. -Palmer's, who lived a few miles on the other side of Bath; whither her -husband promised, at her earnest entreaty, to join her in a day or -two; and whither she was almost equally urgent with her mother to -accompany her. Mrs. Jennings, however, with a kindness of heart which -made Elinor really love her, declared her resolution of not stirring -from Cleveland as long as Marianne remained ill, and of endeavouring, -by her own attentive care, to supply to her the place of the mother -she had taken her from; and Elinor found her on every occasion a most -willing and active helpmate, desirous to share in all her fatigues, -and often by her better experience in nursing, of material use. - -Poor Marianne, languid and low from the nature of her malady, and -feeling herself universally ill, could no longer hope that tomorrow -would find her recovered; and the idea of what tomorrow would have -produced, but for this unlucky illness, made every ailment severe; for -on that day they were to have begun their journey home; and, attended -the whole way by a servant of Mrs. Jennings, were to have taken their -mother by surprise on the following forenoon. The little she said was -all in lamentation of this inevitable delay; though Elinor tried to -raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she _then_ really believed -herself, that it would be a very short one. - -The next day produced little or no alteration in the state of the -patient; she certainly was not better, and, except that there was no -amendment, did not appear worse. Their party was now farther reduced; -for Mr. Palmer, though very unwilling to go as well from real humanity -and good-nature, as from a dislike of appearing to be frightened away -by his wife, was persuaded at last by Colonel Brandon to perform his -promise of following her; and while he was preparing to go, Colonel -Brandon himself, with a much greater exertion, began to talk of going -likewise. Here, however, the kindness of Mrs. Jennings interposed most -acceptably; for to send the Colonel away while his love was in so much -uneasiness on her sister's account, would be to deprive them both, she -thought, of every comfort; and therefore telling him at once that his -stay at Cleveland was necessary to herself, that she should want him -to play at piquet of an evening, while Miss Dashwood was above with -her sister, &c. she urged him so strongly to remain, that he, who was -gratifying the first wish of his own heart by a compliance, could not -long even affect to demur; especially as Mrs. Jennings's entreaty was -warmly seconded by Mr. Palmer, who seemed to feel a relief to himself, -in leaving behind him a person so well able to assist or advise Miss -Dashwood in any emergence. - -Marianne was, of course, kept in ignorance of all these arrangements. -She knew not that she had been the means of sending the owners of -Cleveland away, in about seven days from the time of their arrival. It -gave her no surprise that she saw nothing of Mrs. Palmer; and as it -gave her likewise no concern, she never mentioned her name. - -Two days passed away from the time of Mr. Palmer's departure, and her -situation continued, with little variation, the same. Mr. Harris, who -attended her every day, still talked boldly of a speedy recovery, and -Miss Dashwood was equally sanguine; but the expectation of the others -was by no means so cheerful. Mrs. Jennings had determined very early -in the seizure that Marianne would never get over it, and Colonel -Brandon, who was chiefly of use in listening to Mrs. Jennings's -forebodings, was not in a state of mind to resist their influence. He -tried to reason himself out of fears, which the different judgment of -the apothecary seemed to render absurd; but the many hours of each day -in which he was left entirely alone, were but too favourable for the -admission of every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from his -mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more. - -On the morning of the third day however, the gloomy anticipations of -both were almost done away; for when Mr. Harris arrived, he declared -his patient materially better. Her pulse was much stronger, and every -symptom more favourable than on the preceding visit. Elinor, confirmed -in every pleasant hope, was all cheerfulness; rejoicing that in her -letters to her mother, she had pursued her own judgment rather than -her friend's, in making very light of the indisposition which delayed -them at Cleveland; and almost fixing on the time when Marianne would -be able to travel. - -But the day did not close so auspiciously as it began. Towards the -evening Marianne became ill again, growing more heavy, restless, and -uncomfortable than before. Her sister, however, still sanguine, was -willing to attribute the change to nothing more than the fatigue of -having sat up to have her bed made; and carefully administering the -cordials prescribed, saw her, with satisfaction, sink at last into a -slumber, from which she expected the most beneficial effects. Her -sleep, though not so quiet as Elinor wished to see it, lasted a -considerable time; and anxious to observe the result of it herself, -she resolved to sit with her during the whole of it. Mrs. Jennings, -knowing nothing of any change in the patient, went unusually early to -bed; her maid, who was one of the principal nurses, was recreating -herself in the housekeeper's room, and Elinor remained alone with -Marianne. - -The repose of the latter became more and more disturbed; and her -sister, who watched, with unremitting attention her continual change -of posture, and heard the frequent but inarticulate sounds of -complaint which passed her lips, was almost wishing to rouse her from -so painful a slumber, when Marianne, suddenly awakened by some -accidental noise in the house, started hastily up, and, with feverish -wildness, cried out,-- - -"Is mama coming?--" - -"Not yet," cried the other, concealing her terror, and assisting -Marianne to lie down again, "but she will be here, I hope, before it -is long. It is a great way, you know, from hence to Barton." - -"But she must not go round by London," cried Marianne, in the same -hurried manner. "I shall never see her, if she goes by London." - -Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not quite herself, and, while -attempting to soothe her, eagerly felt her pulse. It was lower and -quicker than ever! and Marianne, still talking wildly of mama, her -alarm increased so rapidly, as to determine her on sending instantly -for Mr. Harris, and despatching a messenger to Barton for her mother. -To consult with Colonel Brandon on the best means of effecting the -latter, was a thought which immediately followed the resolution of its -performance; and as soon she had rung up the maid to take her place by -her sister, she hastened down to the drawing-room, where she knew he -was generally to be found at a much later hour than the present. - -It was no time for hesitation. Her fears and her difficulties were -immediately before him. Her fears, he had no courage, no confidence to -attempt the removal of; he listened to them in silent despondence; but -her difficulties were instantly obviated, for with a readiness that -seemed to speak the occasion, and the service pre-arranged in his -mind, he offered himself as the messenger who should fetch Mrs. -Dashwood. Elinor made no resistance that was not easily overcome. She -thanked him with brief, though fervent gratitude, and while he went to -hurry off his servant with a message to Mr. Harris, and an order for -post-horses directly, she wrote a few lines to her mother. - -The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel Brandon--or -such a companion for her mother,--how gratefully was it felt!--a -companion whose judgment would guide, whose attendance must relieve, -and whose friendship might soothe her!--as far as the shock of such a -summons _could_ be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his -assistance, would lessen it. - -_He_, meanwhile, whatever he might feel, acted with all the firmness -of a collected mind, made every necessary arrangement with the utmost -despatch, and calculated with exactness the time in which she might -look for his return. Not a moment was lost in delay of any kind. The -horses arrived, even before they were expected, and Colonel Brandon -only pressing her hand with a look of solemnity, and a few words -spoken too low to reach her ear, hurried into the carriage. It was -then about twelve o'clock, and she returned to her sister's apartment -to wait for the arrival of the apothecary, and to watch by her the -rest of the night. It was a night of almost equal suffering to both. -Hour after hour passed away in sleepless pain and delirium on -Marianne's side, and in the most cruel anxiety on Elinor's, before Mr. -Harris appeared. Her apprehensions once raised, paid by their excess -for all her former security; and the servant who sat up with her, for -she would not allow Mrs. Jennings to be called, only tortured her -more, by hints of what her mistress had always thought. - -Marianne's ideas were still, at intervals, fixed incoherently on her -mother, and whenever she mentioned her name, it gave a pang to the -heart of poor Elinor, who, reproaching herself for having trifled with -so many days of illness, and wretched for some immediate relief, -fancied that all relief might soon be in vain, that every thing had -been delayed too long, and pictured to herself her suffering mother -arriving too late to see this darling child, or to see her rational. - -She was on the point of sending again for Mr. Harris, or if _he_ could -not come, for some other advice, when the former--but not till after -five o'clock--arrived. His opinion, however, made some little amends -for his delay, for though acknowledging a very unexpected and -unpleasant alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger to -be material, and talked of the relief which a fresh mode of treatment -must procure, with a confidence which, in a lesser degree, was -communicated to Elinor. He promised to call again in the course of -three or four hours, and left both the patient and her anxious -attendant more composed than he had found them. - -With strong concern, and with many reproaches for not being called to -their aid, did Mrs. Jennings hear in the morning of what had passed. -Her former apprehensions, now with greater reason restored, left her -no doubt of the event; and though trying to speak comfort to Elinor, -her conviction of her sister's danger would not allow her to offer the -comfort of hope. Her heart was really grieved. The rapid decay, the -early death of a girl so young, so lovely as Marianne, must have -struck a less interested person with concern. On Mrs. Jennings's -compassion she had other claims. She had been for three months her -companion, was still under her care, and she was known to have been -greatly injured, and long unhappy. The distress of her sister too, -particularly a favourite, was before her;--and as for their mother, -when Mrs. Jennings considered that Marianne might probably be to _her_ -what Charlotte was to herself, her sympathy in _her_ sufferings was -very sincere. - -Mr. Harris was punctual in his second visit; but he came to be -disappointed in his hopes of what the last would produce. His -medicines had failed; the fever was unabated; and Marianne only more -quiet--not more herself--remained in a heavy stupor. Elinor, catching -all, and more than all, his fears in a moment, proposed to call in -further advice. But he judged it unnecessary: he had still something -more to try, some more fresh application, of whose success he was as -confident as the last, and his visit concluded with encouraging -assurances which reached the ear, but could not enter the heart of -Miss Dashwood. She was calm, except when she thought of her mother; -but she was almost hopeless; and in this state she continued till -noon, scarcely stirring from her sister's bed, her thoughts wandering -from one image of grief, one suffering friend to another, and her -spirits oppressed to the utmost by the conversation of Mrs. Jennings, -who scrupled not to attribute the severity and danger of this attack -to the many weeks of previous indisposition which Marianne's -disappointment had brought on. Elinor felt all the reasonableness of -the idea, and it gave fresh misery to her reflections. - -About noon, however, she began--but with a caution--a dread of -disappointment which for some time kept her silent, even to her -friend--to fancy, to hope she could perceive a slight amendment in her -sister's pulse; she waited, watched, and examined it again and again; -and at last, with an agitation more difficult to bury under exterior -calmness, than all her foregoing distress, ventured to communicate her -hopes. Mrs. Jennings, though forced, on examination, to acknowledge a -temporary revival, tried to keep her young friend from indulging a -thought of its continuance; and Elinor, conning over every injunction -of distrust, told herself likewise not to hope. But it was too late. -Hope had already entered; and feeling all its anxious flutter, she -bent over her sister to watch--she hardly knew for what. Half an hour -passed away, and the favourable symptom yet blessed her. Others even -arose to confirm it. Her breath, her skin, her lips, all flattered -Elinor with signs of amendment; and Marianne fixed her eyes on her -with a rational, though languid, gaze. Anxiety and hope now oppressed -her in equal degrees, and left her no moment of tranquillity till the -arrival of Mr. Harris at four o'clock; when his assurances, his -felicitations on a recovery in her sister even surpassing his -expectation, gave her confidence, comfort, and tears of joy. - -Marianne was in every respect materially better, and he declared her -entirely out of danger. Mrs. Jennings, perhaps satisfied with the -partial justification of her forebodings which had been found in their -late alarm, allowed herself to trust in his judgment, and admitted, -with unfeigned joy, and soon with unequivocal cheerfulness, the -probability of an entire recovery. - -Elinor could not be cheerful. Her joy was of a different kind, and led -to any thing rather than to gaiety. Marianne restored to life, health, -friends, and to her doting mother, was an idea to fill her heart with -sensations of exquisite comfort, and expand it in fervent -gratitude;--but it lead to no outward demonstrations of joy, no words, -no smiles. All within Elinor's breast was satisfaction, silent and -strong. - -She continued by the side of her sister, with little intermission the -whole afternoon, calming every fear, satisfying every inquiry of her -enfeebled spirits, supplying every succour, and watching almost every -look and every breath. The possibility of a relapse would of course, -in some moments, occur to remind her of what anxiety was; but when she -saw, on her frequent and minute examination, that every symptom of -recovery continued, and saw Marianne at six o'clock sink into a quiet, -steady, and to all appearance comfortable, sleep, she silenced every -doubt. - -The time was now drawing on, when Colonel Brandon might be expected -back. At ten o'clock, she trusted, or at least not much later her -mother would be relieved from the dreadful suspense in which she must -now be travelling towards them. The Colonel, too!--perhaps scarcely -less an object of pity! Oh! how slow was the progress of time which -yet kept them in ignorance! - -At seven o'clock, leaving Marianne still sweetly asleep, she joined -Mrs. Jennings in the drawing-room to tea. Of breakfast she had been -kept by her fears, and of dinner by their sudden reverse, from eating -much; and the present refreshment, therefore, with such feelings of -content as she brought to it, was particularly welcome. Mrs. Jennings -would have persuaded her, at its conclusion, to take some rest before -her mother's arrival, and allow _her_ to take her place by Marianne; -but Elinor had no sense of fatigue, no capability of sleep at that -moment about her, and she was not to be kept away from her sister an -unnecessary instant. Mrs. Jennings therefore attending her up stairs -into the sick chamber, to satisfy herself that all continued right, -left her there again to her charge and her thoughts, and retired to -her own room to write letters and sleep. - -The night was cold and stormy. The wind roared round the house, and -the rain beat against the windows; but Elinor, all happiness within, -regarded it not. Marianne slept through every blast; and the -travellers, they had a rich reward in store, for every present -inconvenience. - -The clock struck eight. Had it been ten, Elinor would have been -convinced that at that moment she heard a carriage driving up to the -house; and so strong was the persuasion that she _did_, in spite of -the _almost_ impossibility of their being already come, that she moved -into the adjoining dressing-closet and opened a window shutter, to be -satisfied of the truth. She instantly saw that her ears had not -deceived her. The flaring lamps of a carriage were immediately in -view. By their uncertain light she thought she could discern it to be -drawn by four horses; and this, while it told the excess of her poor -mother's alarm, gave some explanation to such unexpected rapidity. - -Never in her life had Elinor found it so difficult to be calm, as at -that moment. The knowledge of what her mother must be feeling as the -carriage stopped the door,--of her doubt--her dread,--perhaps her -despair!--and of what _she_ had to tell! with such knowledge it was -impossible to be calm. All that remained to be done was to be speedy; -and, therefore staying only till she could leave Mrs. Jennings's maid -with her sister, she hurried down stairs. - -The bustle in the vestibule, as she passed along an inner lobby, -assured her that they were already in the house. She rushed to the -drawing-room,--she entered it,--and saw only Willoughby. - -[Illustration: _Opened a window-shutter._] - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV - - -Elinor, starting back with a look of horror at the sight of him, -obeyed the first impulse of her heart in turning instantly to quit the -room, and her hand was already on the lock, when its action was -suspended by his hastily advancing, and saying, in a voice rather of -command than supplication-- - -"Miss Dashwood, for half an hour--for ten minutes--I entreat you to -stay." - -"No, sir," she replied with firmness, "I shall _not_ stay. Your -business cannot be with _me._ The servants, I suppose, forgot to tell -you that Mr. Palmer was not in the house." - -"Had they told me," he cried with vehemence, "that Mr. Palmer and all -his relations were at the devil, it would not have turned me from the -door. My business is with you, and only you." - -"With me!"--in the utmost amazement;--"well, sir--be quick--and if you -can--less violent." - -"Sit down, and I will be both." - -She hesitated; she knew not what to do. The possibility of Colonel -Brandon's arriving and finding her there, came across her. But she had -promised to hear him, and her curiosity no less than her honor was -engaged. After a moment's recollection, therefore, concluding that -prudence required dispatch, and that her acquiescence would best -promote it, she walked silently towards the table, and sat down. He -took the opposite chair, and for half a minute not a word was said by -either. - -"Pray be quick, sir," said Elinor, impatiently; "I have no time to -spare." - -He was sitting in an attitude of deep meditation, and seemed not to -hear her. - -"Your sister," said he, with abruptness, a moment afterwards--"is out -of danger. I heard it from the servant. God be praised!--But is it -true? is it really true?" - -Elinor would not speak. He repeated the inquiry with yet greater -eagerness. - -"For God's sake tell me, is she out of danger, or is she not?" - -[Illustration: "_I entreat you to stay._"] - -"We hope she is." - -He rose up, and walked across the room. - -"Had I known as much half an hour ago--But since I _am_ -here,"--speaking with a forced vivacity as he returned to his -seat,--"what does it signify?--For once, Miss Dashwood--it will be the -last time, perhaps--let us be cheerful together. I am in a fine mood -for gaiety. Tell me honestly,"--a deeper glow overspreading his -cheeks, "do you think me most a knave or a fool?" - -Elinor looked at him with greater astonishment than ever. She began to -think that he must be in liquor;--the strangeness of such a visit, and -of such manners, seemed no otherwise intelligible; and with this -impression she immediately rose, saying-- - -"Mr. Willoughby, I advise you at present to return to Combe--I am not -at leisure to remain with you longer. Whatever your business may be -with me, it will be better recollected and explained to-morrow." - -"I understand you," he replied, with an expressive smile, and a voice -perfectly calm; "yes, I am very drunk. A pint of porter with my cold -beef at Marlborough was enough to over-set me." - -"At Marlborough!"--cried Elinor, more and more at a loss to understand -what he would be at. - -"Yes,--I left London this morning at eight o'clock, and the only ten -minutes I have spent out of my chaise since that time procured me a -nuncheon at Marlborough." - -The steadiness of his manner, and the intelligence of his eye as he -spoke, convincing Elinor, that whatever other unpardonable folly might -bring him to Cleveland, he was not brought there by intoxication, she -said, after a moment's recollection-- - -"Mr. Willoughby, you _ought_ to feel, and I certainly _do_, that after -what has passed--your coming here in this manner, and forcing yourself -upon my notice, requires a very particular excuse. What is it, that -you mean by it?"-- - -"I mean,"--said he, with serious energy--"if I can, to make you hate -me one degree less than you do _now._ I mean to offer some kind of -explanation, some kind of apology, for the past; to open my whole -heart to you, and by convincing you, that though I have been always a -blockhead, I have not been always a rascal, to obtain something like -forgiveness from Ma----, from your sister." - -"Is this the real reason of your coming?" - -"Upon my soul it is," was his answer, with a warmth which brought all -the former Willoughby to her remembrance, and in spite of herself made -her think him sincere. - -"If that is all, you may be satisfied already; for Marianne _does_, -she has _long_ forgiven you." - -"Has she?" he cried, in the same eager tone. "Then she has forgiven me -before she ought to have done it. But she shall forgive me again, and -on more reasonable grounds. _Now_ will you listen to me?" - -Elinor bowed her assent. - -"I do not know," said he, after a pause of expectation on her side, -and thoughtfulness on his own, "how _you_ may have accounted for my -behaviour to your sister, or what diabolical motive you may have -imputed to me. Perhaps you will hardly think the better of me,--it is -worth the trial however, and you shall hear every thing. When I first -became intimate in your family, I had no other intention, no other -view in the acquaintance than to pass my time pleasantly while I was -obliged to remain in Devonshire, more pleasantly than I had ever done -before. Your sister's lovely person and interesting manners could not -but please me; and her behaviour to me almost from the first, was of a -kind--It is astonishing, when I reflect on what it was, and what _she_ -was, that my heart should have been so insensible! But at first I must -confess, my vanity only was elevated by it. Careless of her happiness, -thinking only of my own amusement, giving way to feelings which I had -always been too much in the habit of indulging, I endeavoured, by -every means in my power, to make myself pleasing to her, without any -design of returning her affection." - -Miss Dashwood, at this point, turning her eyes on him with the most -angry contempt, stopped him, by saying-- - -"It is hardly worth while, Mr. Willoughby, for you to relate, or for -me to listen any longer. Such a beginning as this cannot be followed -by any thing. Do not let me be pained by hearing any thing more on the -subject." - -"I insist on you hearing the whole of it," he replied, "My fortune was -never large, and I had always been expensive, always in the habit of -associating with people of better income than myself. Every year -since my coming of age, or even before, I believe, had added to my -debts; and though the death of my old cousin, Mrs. Smith, was to set -me free; yet that event being uncertain, and possibly far distant, it -had been for some time my intention to re-establish my circumstances -by marrying a woman of fortune. To attach myself to your sister, -therefore, was not a thing to be thought of; and with a meanness, -selfishness, cruelty, which no indignant, no contemptuous look, even -of yours, Miss Dashwood, can ever reprobate too much,--I was acting in -this manner, trying to engage her regard, without a thought of -returning it. But one thing may be said for me: even in that horrid -state of selfish vanity, I did not know the extent of the injury I -meditated, because I did not _then_ know what it was to love. But have -I ever known it? Well may it be doubted; for, had I really loved, -could I have sacrificed my feelings to vanity, to avarice? or, what is -more, could I have sacrificed hers? But I have done it. To avoid a -comparative poverty, which her affection and her society would have -deprived of all its horrors, I have, by raising myself to affluence, -lost every thing that could make it a blessing." - -"You did then," said Elinor, a little softened, "believe yourself at -one time attached to her?" - -"To have resisted such attractions, to have withstood such tenderness! -Is there a man on earth who could have done it? Yes, I found myself, -by insensible degrees, sincerely fond of her; and the happiest hours -of my life were what I spent with her when I felt my intentions were -strictly honourable, and my feelings blameless. Even _then_, however, -when fully determined on paying my addresses to her, I allowed myself -most improperly to put off, from day to day, the moment of doing it, -from an unwillingness to enter into an engagement while my -circumstances were so greatly embarrassed. I will not reason here--nor -will I stop for _you_ to expatiate on the absurdity, and the worse -than absurdity, of scrupling to engage my faith where my honour was -already bound. The event has proved, that I was a cunning fool, -providing with great circumspection for a possible opportunity of -making myself contemptible and wretched for ever. At last, however, my -resolution was taken, and I had determined, as soon as I could engage -her alone, to justify the attentions I had so invariably paid her, and -openly assure her of an affection which I had already taken such pains -to display. But in the interim--in the interim of the very few hours -that were to pass, before I could have an opportunity of speaking with -her in private--a circumstance occurred--an unlucky circumstance--to -ruin all my resolution, and with it all my comfort. A discovery took -place,"--here he hesitated and looked down. "Mrs. Smith had somehow or -other been informed, I imagine by some distant relation, whose -interest it was to deprive me of her favour, of an affair, a -connection--but I need not explain myself farther," he added, looking -at her with an heightened colour and an enquiring eye,--"your -particular intimacy--you have probably heard the whole story long -ago." - -"I have," returned Elinor, colouring likewise, and hardening her heart -anew against any compassion for him, "I have heard it all. And how you -will explain away any part of your guilt in that dreadful business, I -confess is beyond my comprehension." - -"Remember," cried Willoughby, "from whom you received the account. -Could it be an impartial one? I acknowledge that her situation and her -character ought to have been respected by me. I do not mean to justify -myself, but at the same time cannot leave you to suppose that I have -nothing to urge--that because she was injured she was irreproachable, -and because _I_ was a libertine, _she_ must be a saint. If the -violence of her passions, the weakness of her understanding--I do not -mean, however, to defend myself. Her affection for me deserved better -treatment, and I often, with great self-reproach, recall the -tenderness which, for a very short time, had the power of creating any -return. I wish--I heartily wish it had never been. But I have injured -more than herself; and I have injured one, whose affection for -me--(may I say it?) was scarcely less warm than hers; and whose -mind--Oh! how infinitely superior!" - -"Your indifference, however, towards that unfortunate girl--I must say -it, unpleasant to me as the discussion of such a subject may well -be--your indifference is no apology for your cruel neglect of her. Do -not think yourself excused by any weakness, any natural defect of -understanding on her side, in the wanton cruelty so evident on yours. -You must have known, that while you were enjoying yourself in -Devonshire pursuing fresh schemes, always gay, always happy, she was -reduced to the extremest indigence." - -"But, upon my soul, I did _not_ know it," he warmly replied; "I did -not recollect that I had omitted to give her my direction; and common -sense might have told her how to find it out." - -"Well, sir, and what said Mrs. Smith?" - -"She taxed me with the offence at once, and my confusion may be -guessed. The purity of her life, the formality of her notions, her -ignorance of the world,--every thing was against me. The matter itself -I could not deny, and vain was every endeavour to soften it. She was -previously disposed, I believe, to doubt the morality of my conduct in -general, and was moreover discontented with the very little attention, -the very little portion of my time that I had bestowed on her, in my -present visit. In short, it ended in a total breach. By one measure I -might have saved myself. In the height of her morality, good woman! -she offered to forgive the past, if I would marry Eliza. That could -not be; and I was formally dismissed from her favour and her house. -The night following this affair--I was to go the next morning--was -spent by me in deliberating on what my future conduct should be. The -struggle was great, but it ended too soon. My affection for Marianne, -my thorough conviction of her attachment to me--it was all -insufficient to outweigh that dread of poverty, or get the better of -those false ideas of the necessity of riches, which I was naturally -inclined to feel, and expensive society had increased. I had reason to -believe myself secure of my present wife, if I chose to address her, -and I persuaded myself to think that nothing else in common prudence -remained for me to do. A heavy scene however awaited me, before I -could leave Devonshire: I was engaged to dine with you on that very -day; some apology was therefore necessary for my breaking this -engagement. But whether I should write this apology, or deliver it in -person, was a point of long debate. To see Marianne, I felt, would be -dreadful, and I even doubted whether I could see her again, and keep -to my resolution. In that point, however, I undervalued my own -magnanimity, as the event declared; for I went, I saw her, and saw her -miserable, and left her miserable;--and left her hoping never to see -her again." - -"Why did you call, Mr. Willoughby?" said Elinor, reproachfully; "a -note would have answered every purpose. Why was it necessary to -call?" - -[Illustration: "_I was formally dismissed._"] - -"It was necessary to my own pride. I could not bear to leave the -country in a manner that might lead you, or the rest of the -neighbourhood, to suspect any part of what had really passed between -Mrs. Smith and myself, and I resolved therefore on calling at the -cottage, in my way to Honiton. The sight of your dear sister, however, -was really dreadful; and, to heighten the matter, I found her alone. -You were all gone I do not know where. I had left her only the evening -before, so fully, so firmly resolved within my self on doing right! A -few hours were to have engaged her to me for ever; and I remember how -happy, how gay were my spirits, as I walked from the cottage to -Allenham, satisfied with myself, delighted with every body! But in -this, our last interview of friendship, I approached her with a sense -of guilt that almost took from me the power of dissembling. Her -sorrow, her disappointment, her deep regret, when I told her that I -was obliged to leave Devonshire so immediately--I never shall forget -it--united too with such reliance, such confidence in me! Oh, God! -what a hard-hearted rascal I was!" - -They were both silent for a few moments. Elinor first spoke. - -"Did you tell her that you should soon return?" - -"I do not know what I told her," he replied, impatiently; "less than -was due to the past, beyond a doubt, and in all likelihood much more -than was justified by the future. I cannot think of it. It won't do. -Then came your dear mother to torture me farther, with all her -kindness and confidence. Thank Heaven! it _did_ torture me. I was -miserable. Miss Dashwood, you cannot have an idea of the comfort it -gives me to look back on my own misery. I owe such a grudge to myself -for the stupid, rascally folly of my own heart, that all my past -sufferings under it are only triumph and exultation to me now. Well, I -went, left all that I loved, and went to those to whom, at best, I was -only indifferent. My journey to town--travelling with my own horses, -and therefore so tediously--no creature to speak to--my own -reflections so cheerful--when I looked forward every thing so -inviting!--when I looked back at Barton, the picture so soothing!--oh, -it was a blessed journey!" - -He stopped. - -"Well, sir," said Elinor, who, though pitying him, grew impatient for -his departure, "and this is all?" - -"Ah!--no,--have you forgot what passed in town? That infamous letter? -Did she show it you?" - -"Yes, I saw every note that passed." - -"When the first of hers reached me (as it immediately did, for I was -in town the whole time,) what I felt is, in the common phrase, not to -be expressed; in a more simple one--perhaps too simple to raise any -emotion, my feelings were very, very painful. Every line, every word -was--in the hackneyed metaphor which their dear writer, were she here, -would forbid--a dagger to my heart. To know that Marianne was in town -was, in the same language, a thunderbolt. Thunderbolts and daggers! -what a reproof would she have given me! her taste, her opinions--I -believe they are better known to me than my own, and I am sure they -are dearer." - -Elinor's heart, which had undergone many changes in the course of this -extraordinary conversation, was now softened again;--yet she felt it -her duty to check such ideas in her companion as the last. - -"This is not right, Mr. Willoughby. Remember that you are married. -Relate only what in your conscience you think necessary for me to -hear." - -"Marianne's note, by assuring me that I was still as dear to her as in -former days, that in spite of the many, many weeks we had been -separated, she was as constant in her own feelings, and as full of -faith in the constancy of mine as ever, awakened all my remorse. I say -awakened, because time and London, business and dissipation, had in -some measure quieted it, and I had been growing a fine hardened -villain, fancying myself indifferent to her, and choosing to fancy -that she too must have become indifferent to me; talking to myself of -our past attachment as a mere idle, trifling business, shrugging up my -shoulders in proof of its being so, and silencing every reproach, -overcoming every scruple, by secretly saying now and then, 'I shall be -heartily glad to hear she is well married.' But this note made me know -myself better. I felt that she was infinitely dearer to me than any -other woman in the world, and that I was using her infamously. But -every thing was then just settled between Miss Grey and me. To retreat -was impossible. All that I had to do, was to avoid you both. I sent no -answer to Marianne, intending by that to preserve myself from her -farther notice; and for some time I was even determined not to call -in Berkeley Street; but at last, judging it wiser to affect the air of -a cool, common acquaintance than anything else, I watched you all -safely out of the house one morning, and left my name." - -"Watched us out of the house!" - -"Even so. You would be surprised to hear how often I watched you, how -often I was on the point of falling in with you. I have entered many a -shop to avoid your sight, as the carriage drove by. Lodging as I did -in Bond Street, there was hardly a day in which I did not catch a -glimpse of one or other of you; and nothing but the most constant -watchfulness on my side, a most invariably prevailing desire to keep -out of your sight, could have separated us so long. I avoided the -Middletons as much as possible, as well as everybody else who was -likely to prove an acquaintance in common. Not aware of their being in -town, however, I blundered on Sir John, I believe, the first day of -his coming, and the day after I had called at Mrs. Jennings's. He -asked me to a party, a dance at his house in the evening. Had he _not_ -told me as an inducement that you and your sister were to be there, I -should have felt it too certain a thing, to trust myself near him. The -next morning brought another short note from Marianne--still -affectionate, open, artless, confiding--everything that could make -_my_ conduct most hateful. I could not answer it. I tried--but could -not frame a sentence. But I thought of her, I believe, every moment of -the day. If you _can_ pity me, Miss Dashwood, pity my situation as it -was _then._ With my head and heart full of your sister, I was forced -to play the happy lover to another woman! Those three or four weeks -were worse than all. Well, at last, as I need not tell you, you were -forced on me; and what a sweet figure I cut! what an evening of agony -it was! Marianne, beautiful as an angel on one side, calling me -Willoughby in such a tone! Oh, God! holding out her hand to me, asking -me for an explanation, with those bewitching eyes fixed in such -speaking solicitude on my face! and Sophia, jealous as the devil on -the other hand, looking all that was--Well, it does not signify; it is -over now. Such an evening! I ran away from you all as soon as I could; -but not before I had seen Marianne's sweet face as white as death. -_That_ was the last, last look I ever had of her; the last manner in -which she appeared to me. It was a horrid sight! yet when I thought -of her to-day as really dying, it was a kind of comfort to me to -imagine that I knew exactly how she would appear to those, who saw her -last in this world. She was before me, constantly before me, as I -travelled, in the same look and hue." - -[Illustration: "_I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight._"] - -A short pause of mutual thoughtfulness succeeded. Willoughby first -rousing himself, broke it thus: - -"Well, let me make haste and be gone. Your sister is certainly better, -certainly out of danger?" - -"We are assured of it." - -"Your poor mother, too!--doting on Marianne." - -"But the letter, Mr. Willoughby, your own letter; have you any thing -to say about that?" - -"Yes, yes, _that_ in particular. Your sister wrote to me again, you -know, the very next morning. You saw what she said. I was breakfasting -at the Ellisons,--and her letter, with some others, was brought to me -there from my lodgings. It happened to catch Sophia's eye before it -caught mine;--and its size, the elegance of the paper, the hand-writing -altogether, immediately gave her a suspicion. Some vague report had -reached her before of my attachment to some young lady in Devonshire, -and what had passed within her observation the preceding evening had -marked who the young lady was, and made her more jealous than ever. -Affecting that air of playfulness, therefore, which is delightful in a -woman one loves, she opened the letter directly, and read its contents. -She was well paid for her impudence. She read what made her wretched. -Her wretchedness I could have borne, but her passion--her malice--at all -events it must be appeased. And, in short, what do you think of my -wife's style of letter-writing?--delicate--tender--truly feminine--was -it not?" - -"Your wife! The letter was in your own hand-writing." - -"Yes, but I had only the credit of servilely copying such sentences as -I was ashamed to put my name to. The original was all her own--her own -happy thoughts and gentle diction. But what could I do! we were -engaged, every thing in preparation, the day almost fixed--but I am -talking like a fool. Preparation! Day! In honest words, her money was -necessary to me, and in a situation like mine, any thing was to be -done to prevent a rupture. And after all, what did it signify to my -character in the opinion of Marianne and her friends, in what -language my answer was couched? It must have been only to one end. My -business was to declare myself a scoundrel, and whether I did it with -a bow or a bluster was of little importance. 'I am ruined for ever in -their opinion,' said I to myself; 'I am shut out for ever from their -society, they already think me an unprincipled fellow, this letter -will only make them think me a blackguard one.' Such were my -reasonings, as, in a sort of desperate carelessness, I copied my -wife's words, and parted with the last relics of Marianne. Her three -notes--unluckily they were all in my pocket-book, or I should have -denied their existence, and hoarded them for ever--I was forced to put -them up, and could not even kiss them. And the lock of hair--that too -I had always carried about me in the same pocket-book, which was now -searched by Madam with the most ingratiating virulence,--the dear -lock--all, every memento was torn from me." - -"You are very wrong, Mr. Willoughby, very blamable," said Elinor, -while her voice, in spite of herself, betrayed her compassionate -emotion; "you ought not to speak in this way, either of Mrs. -Willoughby or my sister. You had made your own choice. It was not -forced on you. Your wife has a claim to your politeness, to your -respect, at least. She must be attached to you, or she would not have -married you. To treat her with unkindness, to speak of her slightingly -is no atonement to Marianne--nor can I suppose it a relief to your own -conscience." - -"Do not talk to me of my wife," said he with a heavy sigh. "She does -not deserve your compassion. She knew I had no regard for her when we -married. Well, married we were, and came down to Combe Magna to be -happy, and afterwards returned to town to be gay. And now do you pity -me, Miss Dashwood? or have I said all this to no purpose? Am I,--be -it only one degree,--am I less guilty in your opinion than I was -before? My intentions were not always wrong. Have I explained away any -part of my guilt?" - -"Yes, you have certainly removed something--a little. You have proved -yourself, on the whole, less faulty than I had believed you. You have -proved your heart less wicked, much less wicked. But I hardly -know--the misery that you have inflicted--I hardly know what could -have made it worse." - -"Will you repeat to your sister when she is recovered, what I have -been telling you?--Let me be a little lightened too in her opinion as -well as in yours. You tell me that she has forgiven me already. Let me -be able to fancy that a better knowledge of my heart, and of my -present feelings, will draw from her a more spontaneous, more natural, -more gentle, less dignified, forgiveness. Tell her of my misery and my -penitence--tell her that my heart was never inconstant to her, and if -you will, that at this moment she is dearer to me than ever." - -"I will tell her all that is necessary to what may comparatively be -called, your justification. But you have not explained to me the -particular reason of your coming now, nor how you heard of her -illness." - -"Last night, in Drury Lane lobby, I ran against Sir John Middleton, -and when he saw who I was, for the first time these two months--he -spoke to me. That he had cut me ever since my marriage, I had seen -without surprise or resentment. Now, however, his good-natured, -honest, stupid soul, full of indignation against me, and concern for -your sister, could not resist the temptation of telling me what he -knew ought to, though probably he did not think it _would_, vex me -horridly. As bluntly as he could speak it, therefore, he told me that -Marianne Dashwood was dying of a putrid fever at Cleveland--a letter -that morning received from Mrs. Jennings declared her danger most -imminent--the Palmers are all gone off in a fright, &c. I was too much -shocked to be able to pass myself off as insensible even to the -undiscerning Sir John. His heart was softened in seeing mine suffer; -and so much of his ill-will was done away, that when we parted, he -almost shook me by the hand while he reminded me of an old promise -about a pointer puppy. What I felt on hearing that your sister was -dying, and dying too, believing me the greatest villain upon earth, -scorning, hating me in her latest moments--for how could I tell what -horrid projects might not have been imputed? _One_ person I was sure -would represent me as capable of any thing. What I felt was dreadful! -My resolution was soon made, and at eight o'clock this morning I was -in my carriage. Now you know all." - -Elinor made no answer. Her thoughts were silently fixed on the -irreparable injury which too early an independence and its consequent -habits of idleness, dissipation, and luxury, had made in the mind, the -character, the happiness, of a man who, to every advantage of person -and talents, united a disposition naturally open and honest, and a -feeling, affectionate temper. The world had made him extravagant and -vain--Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish. -Vanity, while seeking its own guilty triumph at the expense of -another, had involved him in a real attachment, which extravagance, or -at least its offspring, necessity, had required to be sacrificed. Each -faulty propensity in leading him to evil, had led him likewise to -punishment. The attachment, from which against honour, against -feeling, against every better interest he had outwardly torn himself, -now, when no longer allowable, governed every thought; and the -connection, for the sake of which he had, with little scruple, left -her sister to misery, was likely to prove a source of unhappiness to -himself of a far more incurable nature. From a reverie of this kind -she was recalled at the end of some minutes by Willoughby, who, -rousing himself from a reverie at least equally painful, started up in -preparation for going, and said-- - -"There is no use in staying here; I must be off." - -"Are you going back to town?" - -"No--to Combe Magna. I have business there; from thence to town in a -day or two. Good bye." - -He held out his hand. She could not refuse to give him hers;--he -pressed it with affection. - -"And you _do_ think something better of me than you did?"--said he, -letting it fall, and leaning against the mantelpiece as if forgetting -he was to go. - -Elinor assured him that she did;--that she forgave, pitied, wished him -well--was even interested in his happiness--and added some gentle -counsel as to the behaviour most likely to promote it. His answer was -not very encouraging. - -"As to that," said he, "I must rub through the world as well as I can. -Domestic happiness is out of the question. If, however, I am allowed -to think that you and yours feel an interest in my fate and actions, -it may be the means--it may put me on my guard--at least, it may be -something to live for. Marianne to be sure is lost to me for ever. -Were I even by any blessed chance at liberty again--" - -Elinor stopped him with a reproof. - -"Well,"--he replied--"once more good bye. I shall now go away and live -in dread of one event." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Your sister's marriage." - -"You are very wrong. She can never be more lost to you than she is -now." - -"But she will be gained by some one else. And if that some one should -be the very he whom, of all others, I could least bear--but I will not -stay to rob myself of all your compassionate good-will, by showing that -where I have most injured I can least forgive. Good bye,--God bless -you!" - -And with these words, he almost ran out of the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV - - -Elinor, for some time after he left her, for some time even after the -sound of his carriage had died away, remained too much oppressed by a -crowd of ideas, widely differing in themselves, but of which sadness -was the general result, to think even of her sister. - -Willoughby, he, whom only half an hour ago she had abhorred as the -most worthless of men, Willoughby, in spite of all his faults, excited -a degree of commiseration for the sufferings produced by them, which -made her think of him as now separated for ever from her family, with -a tenderness, a regret, rather in proportion, as she soon acknowledged -within herself--to his wishes than to his merits. She felt that his -influence over her mind was heightened by circumstances which ought -not in reason to have weight; by that person of uncommon attraction, -that open, affectionate, and lively manner which it was no merit to -possess; and by that still ardent love for Marianne, which it was not -even innocent to indulge. But she felt that it was so, long, long -before she could feel his influence less. - -When at last she returned to the unconscious Marianne, she found her -just awaking, refreshed by so long and sweet a sleep to the extent of -her hopes. Elinor's heart was full. The past, the present, the future, -Willoughby's visit, Marianne's safety, and her mother's expected -arrival, threw her altogether into an agitation of spirits which kept -off every indication of fatigue, and made her only fearful of -betraying herself to her sister. Short was the time, however, in which -that fear could affect her, for within half an hour after Willoughby's -leaving the house, she was again called down stairs by the sound of -another carriage. Eager to save her mother from every unnecessary -moment's horrible suspense, she ran immediately into the hall, and -reached the outward door just in time to receive and support her as -she entered it. - -Mrs. Dashwood, whose terror as they drew near the house had produced -almost the conviction of Marianne's being no more, had no voice to -inquire after her, no voice even for Elinor; but _she_, waiting -neither for salutation nor inquiry, instantly gave the joyful relief; -and her mother, catching it with all her usual warmth, was in a moment -as much overcome by her happiness, as she had been before by her -fears. She was supported into the drawing-room between her daughter -and her friend; and there, shedding tears of joy, though still unable -to speak, embraced Elinor again and again, turning from her at -intervals to press Colonel Brandon's hand, with a look which spoke at -once her gratitude, and her conviction of his sharing with herself in -the bliss of the moment. He shared it, however, in a silence even -greater than her own. - -As soon as Mrs. Dashwood had recovered herself, to see Marianne was -her first desire; and in two minutes she was with her beloved child, -rendered dearer to her than ever by absence, unhappiness, and danger. -Elinor's delight, as she saw what each felt in the meeting, was only -checked by an apprehension of its robbing Marianne of farther -sleep;--but Mrs. Dashwood could be calm, could be even prudent, when -the life of a child was at stake, and Marianne, satisfied in knowing -her mother was near her, and conscious of being too weak for -conversation, submitted readily to the silence and quiet prescribed by -every nurse around her. Mrs. Dashwood _would_ sit up with her all -night; and Elinor, in compliance with her mother's entreaty, went to -bed. But the rest, which one night entirely sleepless, and many hours -of the most wearing anxiety seemed to make requisite, was kept off by -irritation of spirits. Willoughby, "poor Willoughby," as she now -allowed herself to call him, was constantly in her thoughts; she would -not but have heard his vindication for the world, and now blamed, now -acquitted herself for having judged him so harshly before. But her -promise of relating it to her sister was invariably painful. She -dreaded the performance of it, dreaded what its effect on Marianne -might be; doubted whether after such an explanation she could ever be -happy with another; and for a moment wished Willoughby a widower. -Then, remembering Colonel Brandon, reproved herself, felt that to -_his_ sufferings and _his_ constancy far more than to his rival's, the -reward of her sister was due, and wished any thing rather than Mrs. -Willoughby's death. - -The shock of Colonel Brandon's errand at Barton had been much softened -to Mrs. Dashwood by her own previous alarm; for so great was her -uneasiness about Marianne, that she had already determined to set out -for Cleveland on that very day, without waiting for any further -intelligence, and had so far settled her journey before his arrival, -that the Careys were then expected every moment to fetch Margaret -away, as her mother was unwilling to take her where there might be -infection. - -Marianne continued to mend every day, and the brilliant cheerfulness -of Mrs. Dashwood's looks and spirits proved her to be, as she -repeatedly declared herself, one of the happiest women in the world. -Elinor could not hear the declaration, nor witness its proofs without -sometimes wondering whether her mother ever recollected Edward. But -Mrs. Dashwood, trusting to the temperate account of her own -disappointment which Elinor had sent her, was led away by the -exuberance of her joy to think only of what would increase it. -Marianne was restored to her from a danger in which, as she now began -to feel, her own mistaken judgment in encouraging the unfortunate -attachment to Willoughby, had contributed to place her; and in her -recovery she had yet another source of joy unthought of by Elinor. It -was thus imparted to her, as soon as any opportunity of private -conference between them occurred. - -"At last we are alone. My Elinor, you do not yet know all my -happiness. Colonel Brandon loves Marianne. He has told me so himself." - -Her daughter, feeling by turns both pleased and pained, surprised and -not surprised, was all silent attention. - -"You are never like me, dear Elinor, or I should wonder at your -composure now. Had I sat down to wish for any possible good to my -family, I should have fixed on Colonel Brandon's marrying one of you -as the object most desirable. And I believe Marianne will be the most -happy with him of the two." - -Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, because -satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their -age, characters, or feelings, could be given;--but her mother must -always be carried away by her imagination on any interesting subject, -and therefore instead of an inquiry, she passed it off with a smile. - -"He opened his whole heart to me yesterday as we travelled. It came -out quite unawares, quite undesignedly. I, you may well believe, could -talk of nothing but my child;--he could not conceal his distress; I -saw that it equalled my own, and he perhaps, thinking that mere -friendship, as the world now goes, would not justify so warm a -sympathy--or rather, not thinking at all, I suppose--giving way to -irresistible feelings, made me acquainted with his earnest, tender, -constant, affection for Marianne. He has loved her, my Elinor, ever -since the first moment of seeing her." - -Here, however, Elinor perceived,--not the language, not the -professions of Colonel Brandon, but the natural embellishments of her -mother's active fancy, which fashioned every thing delightful to her -as it chose. - -"His regard for her, infinitely surpassing anything that Willoughby -ever felt or feigned, as much more warm, as more sincere or constant, -which ever we are to call it, has subsisted through all the knowledge -of dear Marianne's unhappy prepossession for that worthless young man! -and without selfishness, without encouraging a hope! could he have -seen her happy with another. Such a noble mind! such openness, such -sincerity! No one can be deceived in _him._" - -"Colonel Brandon's character," said Elinor, "as an excellent man, is -well established." - -"I know it is," replied her mother seriously, "or after such a -warning, I should be the last to encourage such affection, or even to -be pleased by it. But his coming for me as he did, with such active, -such ready friendship, is enough to prove him one of the worthiest of -men." - -"His character, however," answered Elinor, "does not rest on _one_ act -of kindness, to which his affection for Marianne, were humanity out of -the case, would have prompted him. To Mrs. Jennings, to the -Middletons, he has been long and intimately known; they equally love -and respect him; and even my own knowledge of him, though lately -acquired, is very considerable; and so highly do I value and esteem -him, that if Marianne can be happy with him, I shall be as ready as -yourself to think our connection the greatest blessing to us in the -world. What answer did you give him? Did you allow him to hope?" - -"Oh! my love, I could not then talk of hope to him or to myself. -Marianne might at that moment be dying. But he did not ask for hope or -encouragement. His was an involuntary confidence, an irrepressible -effusion to a soothing friend, not an application to a parent. Yet -after a time I _did_ say, for at first I was quite overcome, that if -she lived, as I trusted she might, my greatest happiness would lie in -promoting their marriage; and since our arrival, since our delightful -security, I have repeated it to him more fully, have given him every -encouragement in my power. Time, a very little time, I tell him, will -do everything; Marianne's heart is not to be wasted for ever on such a -man as Willoughby. His own merits must soon secure it." - -"To judge from the Colonel's spirits, however, you have not yet made -him equally sanguine." - -"No. He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply rooted for any change -in it under a great length of time, and even supposing her heart again -free, is too diffident of himself to believe, that with such a -difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her. There, -however, he is quite mistaken. His age is only so much beyond hers as -to be an advantage, as to make his character and principles -fixed;--and his disposition, I am well convinced, is exactly the very -one to make your sister happy. And his person, his manners too, are -all in his favour. My partiality does not blind me; he certainly is -not so handsome as Willoughby--but at the same time, there is -something much more pleasing in his countenance. There was always a -something,--if you remember,--in Willoughby's eyes at times, which I -did not like." - -Elinor could _not_ remember it;--but her mother, without waiting for -her assent, continued-- - -"And his manners, the Colonel's manners are not only more pleasing to -me than Willoughby's ever were, but they are of a kind I well know to -be more solidly attaching to Marianne. Their gentleness, their -genuine attention to other people, and their manly unstudied -simplicity is much more accordant with her real disposition, than the -liveliness--often artificial, and often ill-timed of the other. I am -very sure myself, that had Willoughby turned out as really amiable, as -he has proved himself the contrary, Marianne would yet never have been -so happy with _him_ as she will be with Colonel Brandon." - -She paused. Her daughter could not quite agree with her, but her -dissent was not heard, and therefore gave no offence. - -"At Delaford, she will be within an easy distance of me," added Mrs. -Dashwood, "even if I remain at Barton; and in all probability,--for I -hear it is a large village,--indeed there certainly _must_ be some -small house or cottage close by, that would suit us quite as well as -our present situation." - -Poor Elinor!--here was a new scheme for getting her to Delaford!--but -her spirit was stubborn. - -"His fortune too!--for at my time of life you know, everybody cares -about _that_;--and though I neither know nor desire to know, what it -really is, I am sure it must be a good one." - -Here they were interrupted by the entrance of a third person, and -Elinor withdrew to think it all over in private, to wish success to -her friend, and yet in wishing it, to feel a pang for Willoughby. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI - - -Marianne's illness, though weakening in its kind, had not been long -enough to make her recovery slow; and with youth, natural strength, -and her mother's presence in aid, it proceeded so smoothly as to -enable her to remove, within four days after the arrival of the -latter, into Mrs. Palmer's dressing-room. When there, at her own -particular request, for she was impatient to pour forth her thanks to -him for fetching her mother, Colonel Brandon was invited to visit her. - -His emotion on entering the room, in seeing her altered looks, and in -receiving the pale hand which she immediately held out to him, was -such, as, in Elinor's conjecture, must arise from something more than -his affection for Marianne, or the consciousness of its being known to -others; and she soon discovered in his melancholy eye and varying -complexion as he looked at her sister, the probable recurrence of many -past scenes of misery to his mind, brought back by that resemblance -between Marianne and Eliza already acknowledged, and now strengthened -by the hollow eye, the sickly skin, the posture of reclining weakness, -and the warm acknowledgment of peculiar obligation. - -Mrs. Dashwood, not less watchful of what passed than her daughter, but -with a mind very differently influenced, and therefore watching to -very different effect, saw nothing in the Colonel's behaviour but what -arose from the most simple and self-evident sensations, while in the -actions and words of Marianne she persuaded herself to think that -something more than gratitude already dawned. - -At the end of another day or two, Marianne growing visibly stronger -every twelve hours, Mrs. Dashwood, urged equally by her own and her -daughter's wishes, began to talk of removing to Barton. On _her_ -measures depended those of her two friends; Mrs. Jennings could not -quit Cleveland during the Dashwoods' stay; and Colonel Brandon was -soon brought, by their united request, to consider his own abode there -as equally determinate, if not equally indispensable. At his and Mrs. -Jennings's united request in return, Mrs. Dashwood was prevailed on to -accept the use of his carriage on her journey back, for the better -accommodation of her sick child; and the Colonel, at the joint -invitation of Mrs. Dashwood and Mrs. Jennings, whose active -good-nature made her friendly and hospitable for other people as well -as herself, engaged with pleasure to redeem it by a visit at the -cottage, in the course of a few weeks. - -The day of separation and departure arrived; and Marianne, after -taking so particular and lengthened a leave of Mrs. Jennings, one so -earnestly grateful, so full of respect and kind wishes as seemed due -to her own heart from a secret acknowledgment of past inattention, and -bidding Colonel Brandon farewell with a cordiality of a friend, was -carefully assisted by him into the carriage, of which he seemed -anxious that she should engross at least half. Mrs. Dashwood and -Elinor then followed, and the others were left by themselves, to talk -of the travellers, and feel their own dullness, till Mrs. Jennings -was summoned to her chaise to take comfort in the gossip of her maid -for the loss of her two young companions; and Colonel Brandon -immediately afterwards took his solitary way to Delaford. - -The Dashwoods were two days on the road, and Marianne bore her journey -on both, without essential fatigue. Every thing that the most zealous -affection, the most solicitous care could do to render her -comfortable, was the office of each watchful companion, and each found -their reward in her bodily ease, and her calmness of spirits. To -Elinor, the observation of the latter was particularly grateful. She, -who had seen her week after week so constantly suffering, oppressed by -anguish of heart which she had neither courage to speak of, nor -fortitude to conceal, now saw with a joy, which no other could equally -share, an apparent composure of mind, which, in being the result as -she trusted of serious reflection, must eventually lead her to -contentment and cheerfulness. - -As they approached Barton, indeed, and entered on scenes of which -every field and every tree brought some peculiar, some painful -recollection, she grew silent and thoughtful, and turning away her -face from their notice, sat earnestly gazing through the window. But -here, Elinor could neither wonder nor blame; and when she saw, as she -assisted Marianne from the carriage, that she had been crying, she saw -only an emotion too natural in itself to raise any thing less tender -than pity, and in its unobtrusiveness entitled to praise. In the whole -of her subsequent manner, she traced the direction of a mind awakened -to reasonable exertion; for no sooner had they entered their common -sitting-room, than Marianne turned her eyes around it with a look of -resolute firmness, as if determined at once to accustom herself to the -sight of every object with which the remembrance of Willoughby could -be connected. She said little, but every sentence aimed at -cheerfulness, and though a sigh sometimes escaped her, it never passed -away without the atonement of a smile. After dinner she would try her -piano-forte. She went to it; but the music on which her eye first -rested was an opera, procured for her by Willoughby, containing some -of their favourite duets, and bearing on its outward leaf her own name -in his hand-writing. That would not do. She shook her head, put the -music aside, and after running over the keys for a minute, complained -of feebleness in her fingers, and closed the instrument again; -declaring however with firmness as she did so, that she should in -future practice much. - -The next morning produced no abatement in these happy symptoms. On the -contrary, with a mind and body alike strengthened by rest, she looked -and spoke with more genuine spirit, anticipating the pleasure of -Margaret's return, and talking of the dear family party which would -then be restored, of their mutual pursuits and cheerful society, as -the only happiness worth a wish. - -"When the weather is settled, and I have recovered my strength," said -she, "we will take long walks together every day. We will walk to the -farm at the edge of the down, and see how the children go on; we will -walk to Sir John's new plantations at Barton Cross, and the Abbeyland; -and we will often go the old ruins of the Priory, and try to trace its -foundations as far as we are told they once reached. I know we shall -be happy. I know the summer will pass happily away. I mean never to be -later in rising than six, and from that time till dinner I shall -divide every moment between music and reading. I have formed my plan, -and am determined to enter on a course of serious study. Our own -library is too well known to me, to be resorted to for any thing -beyond mere amusement. But there are many works well worth reading at -the Park; and there are others of more modern production which I know -I can borrow of Colonel Brandon. By reading only six hours a-day, I -shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth a great deal of instruction -which I now feel myself to want." - -Elinor honoured her for a plan which originated so nobly as this; -though smiling to see the same eager fancy which had been leading her -to the extreme of languid indolence and selfish repining, now at work -in introducing excess into a scheme of such rational employment and -virtuous self-control. Her smile however changed to a sigh when she -remembered that promise to Willoughby was yet unfulfilled, and feared -she had that to communicate which might again unsettle the mind of -Marianne, and ruin at least for a time this fair prospect of busy -tranquillity. Willing therefore to delay the evil hour, she resolved -to wait till her sister's health were more secure, before she -appointed it. But the resolution was made only to be broken. - -[Illustration: "_And see how the children go on._"] - -Marianne had been two or three days at home, before the weather was -fine enough for an invalid like herself to venture out. But at last a -soft, genial morning appeared; such as might tempt the daughter's -wishes and the mother's confidence; and Marianne, leaning on Elinor's -arm, was authorised to walk as long as she could without fatigue, in -the lane before the house. - -The sisters set out at a pace, slow as the feebleness of Marianne in -an exercise hitherto untried since her illness required;--and they had -advanced only so far beyond the house as to admit a full view of the -hill, the important hill behind, when pausing with her eyes turned -towards it, Marianne calmly said-- - -"There, exactly there,"--pointing with one hand, "on that projecting -mound,--there I fell; and there I first saw Willoughby." - -Her voice sunk with the word, but presently reviving she added, - -"I am thankful to find that I can look with so little pain on the -spot! shall we ever talk on that subject, Elinor?" hesitatingly it was -said. "Or will it be wrong? I can talk of it now, I hope, as I ought -to do." - -Elinor tenderly invited her to be open. - -"As for regret," said Marianne, "I have done with that, as far as _he_ -is concerned. I do not mean to talk to you of what my feelings have -been for him, but what they are _now._ At present, if I could be -satisfied on one point, if I could be allowed to think that he was not -_always_ acting a part, not _always_ deceiving me; but above all, if I -could be assured that he never was so _very_ wicked as my fears have -sometimes fancied him, since the story of that unfortunate girl--" - -She stopped. Elinor joyfully treasured her words as she answered-- - -"If you could be assured of that, you think you should be easy." - -"Yes. My peace of mind is doubly involved in it; for not only is it -horrible to suspect a person, who has been what _he_ has been to _me_, -of such designs, but what must it make me appear to myself? What in a -situation like mine, but a most shamefully unguarded affection could -expose me to--" - -"How then," asked her sister, "would you account for his behaviour?" - -"I would suppose him--Oh, how gladly would I suppose him!--only -fickle, very, very fickle." - -Elinor said no more. She was debating within herself on the -eligibility of beginning her story directly, or postponing it till -Marianne were in stronger health; and they crept on for a few minutes -in silence. - -"I am not wishing him too much good," said Marianne at last with a -sigh, "when I wish his secret reflections may be no more unpleasant -than my own. He will suffer enough in them." - -"Do you compare your conduct with his?" - -"No. I compare it with what it ought to have been; I compare it with -yours." - -"Our situations have borne little resemblance." - -"They have borne more than our conduct. Do not, my dearest Elinor, let -your kindness defend what I know your judgment must censure. My illness -has made me think. It has given me leisure and calmness for serious -recollection. Long before I was enough recovered to talk, I was -perfectly able to reflect. I considered the past: I saw in my own -behaviour, since the beginning of our acquaintance with him last autumn, -nothing but a series of imprudence towards myself, and want of kindness -to others. I saw that my own feelings had prepared my sufferings, and -that my want of fortitude under them had almost led me to the grave. My -illness, I well knew, had been entirely brought on by myself by such -negligence of my own health, as I had felt even at the time to be wrong. -Had I died, it would have been self-destruction. I did not know my -danger till the danger was removed; but with such feelings as these -reflections gave me, I wonder at my recovery,--wonder that the very -eagerness of my desire to live, to have time for atonement to my God, -and to you all, did not kill me at once. Had I died, in what peculiar -misery should I have left you, my nurse, my friend, my sister! You, who -had seen all the fretful selfishness of my latter days; who had known -all the murmurings of my heart! How should I have lived in _your_ -remembrance! My mother too! How could you have consoled her! I cannot -express my own abhorrence of myself. Whenever I looked towards the past, -I saw some duty neglected, or some failing indulged. Every body seemed -injured by me. The kindness, the unceasing kindness of Mrs. Jennings, I -had repaid with ungrateful contempt. To the Middletons, to the Palmers, -the Steeles, to every common acquaintance even, I had been insolent and -unjust; with a heart hardened against their merits, and a temper -irritated by their very attention. To John, to Fanny, yes, even to them, -little as they deserve, I had given less than their due. But you, you -above all, above my mother, had been wronged by me. I, and only I, knew -your heart and its sorrows; yet to what did it influence me?--not to any -compassion that could benefit you or myself. Your example was before me; -but to what avail? Was I more considerate of you and your comfort? Did I -imitate your forbearance, or lessen your restraints, by taking any part -in those offices of general complaisance or particular gratitude which -you had hitherto been left to discharge alone? No; not less when I knew -you to be unhappy, than when I had believed you at ease, did I turn away -from every exertion of duty or friendship; scarcely allowing sorrow to -exist but with me, regretting only _that_ heart which had deserted and -wronged me, and leaving you, for I professed an unbounded affection, to -be miserable for my sake." - -Here ceased the rapid flow of her self-reproving spirit; and Elinor, -impatient to soothe, though too honest to flatter, gave her instantly -that praise and support which her frankness and her contrition so well -deserved. Marianne pressed her hand and replied-- - -"You are very good. The future must be my proof. I have laid down my -plan, and if I am capable of adhering to it--my feelings shall be -governed and my temper improved. They shall no longer worry others, -nor torture myself. I shall now live solely for my family. You, my -mother, and Margaret, must henceforth be all the world to me; you will -share my affections entirely between you. From you, from my home, I -shall never again have the smallest incitement to move; and if I do -mix in other society, it will be only to show that my spirit is -humbled, my heart amended, and that I can practise the civilities, the -lesser duties of life, with gentleness and forbearance. As for -Willoughby--to say that I shall soon or that I shall ever forget him, -would be idle. His remembrance can be overcome by no change of -circumstances or opinions. But it shall be regulated, it shall be -checked by religion, by reason, by constant employment." - -She paused--and added in a low voice, "If I could but know _his_ -heart, everything would become easy." - -Elinor, who had now been for some time reflecting on the propriety or -impropriety of speedily hazarding her narration, without feeling at -all nearer decision than at first, heard this; and perceiving that as -reflection did nothing, resolution must do all, soon found herself -leading to the fact. - -She managed the recital, as she hoped, with address; prepared her -anxious listener with caution; related simply and honestly the chief -points on which Willoughby grounded his apology; did justice to his -repentance, and softened only his protestations of present regard. -Marianne said not a word. She trembled, her eyes were fixed on the -ground, and her lips became whiter than even sickness had left them. A -thousand inquiries sprung up from her heart, but she dared not urge -one. She caught every syllable with panting eagerness; her hand, -unknowingly to herself, closely pressed her sister's, and tears -covered her cheeks. - -Elinor, dreading her being tired, led her towards home; and till they -reached the door of the cottage, easily conjecturing what her -curiosity must be though no question was suffered to speak it, talked -of nothing but Willoughby, and their conversation together; and was -carefully minute in every particular of speech and look, where -minuteness could be safely indulged. As soon as they entered the -house, Marianne with a kiss of gratitude and these two words just -articulate through her tears, "Tell mama," withdrew from her sister -and walked slowly up stairs. Elinor would not attempt to disturb a -solitude so reasonable as what she now sought; and with a mind -anxiously pre-arranging its result, and a resolution of reviving the -subject again, should Marianne fail to do it, she turned into the -parlour to fulfill her parting injunction. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII - - -Mrs. Dashwood did not hear unmoved the vindication of her former -favourite. She rejoiced in his being cleared from some part of his -imputed guilt;--she was sorry for him;--she wished him happy. But the -feelings of the past could not be recalled. Nothing could restore him -with a faith unbroken--a character unblemished, to Marianne. Nothing -could do away the knowledge of what the latter had suffered through -his means, nor remove the guilt of his conduct towards Eliza. Nothing -could replace him, therefore, in her former esteem, nor injure the -interests of Colonel Brandon. - -Had Mrs. Dashwood, like her daughter, heard Willoughby's story from -himself,--had she witnessed his distress, and been under the influence -of his countenance and his manner, it is probable that her compassion -would have been greater. But it was neither in Elinor's power, nor in -her wish, to rouse such feelings in another, by her retailed -explanation, as had at first been called forth in herself. Reflection -had given calmness to her judgment, and sobered her own opinion of -Willoughby's deserts; she wished, therefore, to declare only the -simple truth, and lay open such facts as were really due to his -character, without any embellishment of tenderness to lead the fancy -astray. - -In the evening, when they were all three together, Marianne began -voluntarily to speak of him again; but that it was not without an -effort, the restless, unquiet thoughtfulness in which she had been for -some time previously sitting, her rising colour, as she spoke, and her -unsteady voice, plainly showed. - -"I wish to assure you both," said she, "that I see every thing--as you -can desire me to do." - -Mrs. Dashwood would have interrupted her instantly with soothing -tenderness, had not Elinor, who really wished to hear her sister's -unbiased opinion, by an eager sign, engaged her silence. Marianne -slowly continued-- - -"It is a great relief to me--what Elinor told me this morning--I have -now heard exactly what I wished to hear."--For some moments her voice -was lost; but recovering herself, she added, and with greater calmness -than before--"I am now perfectly satisfied, I wish for no change. I -never could have been happy with him, after knowing, as sooner or -later I must have known, all this. I should have had no confidence, no -esteem. Nothing could have done it away to my feelings." - -"I know it--I know it," cried her mother. "Happy with a man of -libertine practices!--With one who so injured the peace of the dearest -of our friends, and the best of men!--No--my Marianne has not a heart -to be made happy with such a man!--Her conscience, her sensitive -conscience, would have felt all that the conscience of her husband -ought to have felt." - -Marianne sighed, and repeated, "I wish for no change." - -"You consider the matter," said Elinor, "exactly as a good mind and a -sound understanding must consider it; and I dare say you perceive, as -well as myself, not only in this, but in many other circumstances, -reason enough to be convinced that your marriage must have involved -you in many certain troubles and disappointments, in which you would -have been poorly supported by an affection, on his side, much less -certain. Had you married, you must have been always poor. His -expensiveness is acknowledged even by himself, and his whole conduct -declares that self-denial is a word hardly understood by him. His -demands and your inexperience together, on a small, very small income, -must have brought on distresses which would not be the _less_ grievous -to you, from having been entirely unknown and unthought of before. -_Your_ sense of honour and honesty would have led you, I know, when -aware of your situation, to attempt all the economy that would appear -to you possible: and, perhaps, as long as your frugality retrenched -only on your own comfort, you might have been suffered to practice it, -but beyond that--and how little could the utmost of your single -management do to stop the ruin which had begun before your marriage? -beyond _that_, had you endeavoured, however reasonably, to abridge -_his_ enjoyments, is it not to be feared, that instead of prevailing -on feelings so selfish to consent to it, you would have lessened your -own influence on his heart, and made him regret the connection which -had involved him in such difficulties?" - -Marianne's lips quivered, and she repeated the word "Selfish?" in a -tone that implied, "do you really think him selfish?" - -"The whole of his behaviour," replied Elinor, "from the beginning to -the end of the affair, has been grounded on selfishness. It was -selfishness which first made him sport with your affections; which -afterwards, when his own were engaged, made him delay the confession -of it, and which finally carried him from Barton. His own enjoyment, -or his own ease, was, in every particular, his ruling principle." - -"It is very true. _My_ happiness never was his object." - -"At present," continued Elinor, "he regrets what he has done. And why -does he regret it?--Because he finds it has not answered towards -himself. It has not made him happy. His circumstances are now -unembarrassed--he suffers from no evil of that kind; and he thinks -only that he has married a woman of a less amiable temper than -yourself. But does it follow that had he married you, he would have -been happy?--The inconveniences would have been different. He would -then have suffered under the pecuniary distresses which, because they -are removed, he now reckons as nothing. He would have had a wife of -whose temper he could make no complaint, but he would have been always -necessitous--always poor; and probably would soon have learned to rank -the innumerable comforts of a clear estate and good income as of far -more importance, even to domestic happiness, than the mere temper of a -wife." - -"I have not a doubt of it," said Marianne; "and I have nothing to -regret--nothing but my own folly." - -"Rather say your mother's imprudence, my child," said Mrs. Dashwood; -"_she_ must be answerable." - -Marianne would not let her proceed;--and Elinor, satisfied that each -felt their own error, wished to avoid any survey of the past that -might weaken her sister's spirits; she, therefore, pursuing the first -subject, immediately continued-- - -"One observation may, I think, be fairly drawn from the whole of the -story--that all Willoughby's difficulties have arisen from the first -offence against virtue, in his behaviour to Eliza Williams. That crime -has been the origin of every lesser one, and of all his present -discontents." - -Marianne assented most feelingly to the remark; and her mother was led -by it to an enumeration of Colonel Brandon's injuries and merits, warm -as friendship and design could unitedly dictate. Her daughter did not -look, however, as if much of it were heard by her. - -Elinor, according to her expectation, saw on the two or three -following days, that Marianne did not continue to gain strength as she -had done; but while her resolution was unsubdued, and she still tried -to appear cheerful and easy, her sister could safely trust to the -effect of time upon her health. - -Margaret returned, and the family were again all restored to each -other, again quietly settled at the cottage; and if not pursuing their -usual studies with quite so much vigour as when they first came to -Barton, at least planning a vigorous prosecution of them in future. - -Elinor grew impatient for some tidings of Edward. She had heard -nothing of him since her leaving London, nothing new of his plans, -nothing certain even of his present abode. Some letters had passed -between her and her brother, in consequence of Marianne's illness; and -in the first of John's, there had been this sentence:--"We know -nothing of our unfortunate Edward, and can make no enquiries on so -prohibited a subject, but conclude him to be still at Oxford"; which -was all the intelligence of Edward afforded her by the correspondence, -for his name was not even mentioned in any of the succeeding letters. -She was not doomed, however, to be long in ignorance of his measures. - -Their man-servant had been sent one morning to Exeter on business; and -when, as he waited at table, he had satisfied the inquiries of his -mistress as to the event of his errand, this was his voluntary -communication-- - -"I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is married." - -Marianne gave a violent start, fixed her eyes upon Elinor, saw her -turning pale, and fell back in her chair in hysterics. Mrs. Dashwood, -whose eyes, as she answered the servant's inquiry, had intuitively -taken the same direction, was shocked to perceive by Elinor's -countenance how much she really suffered, and a moment afterwards, -alike distressed by Marianne's situation, knew not on which child to -bestow her principal attention. - -The servant, who saw only that Miss Marianne was taken ill, had sense -enough to call one of the maids, who, with Mrs. Dashwood's assistance, -supported her into the other room. By that time, Marianne was rather -better, and her mother leaving her to the care of Margaret and the -maid, returned to Elinor, who, though still much disordered, had so -far recovered the use of her reason and voice as to be just -beginning an inquiry of Thomas, as to the source of his intelligence. -Mrs. Dashwood immediately took all that trouble on herself; and Elinor -had the benefit of the information without the exertion of seeking it. - -[Illustration: "_I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is -married._"] - -"Who told you that Mr. Ferrars was married, Thomas?" - -"I see Mr. Ferrars myself, ma'am, this morning in Exeter, and his lady -too, Miss Steele as was. They was stopping in a chaise at the door of -the New London Inn, as I went there with a message from Sally at the -Park to her brother, who is one of the post-boys. I happened to look -up as I went by the chaise, and so I see directly it was the youngest -Miss Steele; so I took off my hat, and she knew me and called to me, -and inquired after you, ma'am, and the young ladies, especially Miss -Marianne, and bid me I should give her compliments and Mr. Ferrars's, -their best compliments and service, and how sorry they was they had -not time to come on and see you, but they was in a great hurry to go -forwards, for they was going further down for a little while, but -however, when they come back, they'd make sure to come and see you." - -"But did she tell you she was married, Thomas?" - -"Yes, ma'am. She smiled, and said how she had changed her name since -she was in these parts. She was always a very affable and free-spoken -young lady, and very civil behaved. So, I made free to wish her joy." - -"Was Mr. Ferrars in the carriage with her?" - -"Yes, ma'am, I just see him leaning back in it, but he did not look -up;--he never was a gentleman much for talking." - -Elinor's heart could easily account for his not putting himself -forward; and Mrs. Dashwood probably found the same explanation. - -"Was there no one else in the carriage?" - -"No, ma'am, only they two." - -"Do you know where they came from?" - -"They come straight from town, as Miss Lucy--Mrs. Ferrars told me." - -"And are they going farther westward?" - -"Yes, ma'am--but not to bide long. They will soon be back again, and -then they'd be sure and call here." - -Mrs. Dashwood now looked at her daughter; but Elinor knew better than -to expect them. She recognised the whole of Lucy in the message, and -was very confident that Edward would never come near them. She -observed in a low voice, to her mother, that they were probably going -down to Mr. Pratt's, near Plymouth. - -Thomas's intelligence seemed over. Elinor looked as if she wished to -hear more. - -"Did you see them off, before you came away?" - -"No, ma'am--the horses were just coming out, but I could not bide any -longer; I was afraid of being late." - -"Did Mrs. Ferrars look well?" - -"Yes, ma'am, she said how she was very well; and to my mind she was -always a very handsome young lady--and she seemed vastly contented." - -Mrs. Dashwood could think of no other question, and Thomas and the -tablecloth, now alike needless, were soon afterwards dismissed. -Marianne had already sent to say, that she should eat nothing more. -Mrs. Dashwood's and Elinor's appetites were equally lost, and Margaret -might think herself very well off, that with so much uneasiness as -both her sisters had lately experienced, so much reason as they had -often had to be careless of their meals, she had never been obliged to -go without her dinner before. - -When the dessert and the wine were arranged, and Mrs. Dashwood and -Elinor were left by themselves, they remained long together in a -similarity of thoughtfulness and silence. Mrs. Dashwood feared to -hazard any remark, and ventured not to offer consolation. She now -found that she had erred in relying on Elinor's representation of -herself; and justly concluded that every thing had been expressly -softened at the time, to spare her from an increase of unhappiness, -suffering as she then had suffered for Marianne. She found that she -had been misled by the careful, the considerate attention of her -daughter, to think the attachment, which once she had so well -understood, much slighter in reality, than she had been wont to -believe, or than it was now proved to be. She feared that under this -persuasion she had been unjust, inattentive, nay, almost unkind, to -her Elinor; that Marianne's affliction, because more acknowledged, -more immediately before her, had too much engrossed her tenderness, -and led her away to forget that in Elinor she might have a daughter -suffering almost as much, certainly with less self-provocation, and -greater fortitude. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII - - -Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an -unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, -and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had -always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something -would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy; that some resolution of his -own, some mediation of friends, or some more eligible opportunity of -establishment for the lady, would arise to assist the happiness of -all. But he was now married; and she condemned her heart for the -lurking flattery, which so much heightened the pain of the -intelligence. - -That he should be married soon, before (as she imagined) he could be -in orders, and consequently before he could be in possession of the -living, surprised her a little at first. But she soon saw how likely -it was that Lucy, in her self-provident care, in her haste to secure -him, should overlook every thing but the risk of delay. They were -married, married in town, and now hastening down to her uncle's. What -had Edward felt on being within four miles from Barton, on seeing her -mother's servant, on hearing Lucy's message! - -They would soon, she supposed, be settled at -Delaford;--Delaford,--that place in which so much conspired to give -her an interest; which she wished to be acquainted with, and yet -desired to avoid. She saw them in an instant in their parsonage-house; -saw in Lucy, the active, contriving manager, uniting at once a desire -of smart appearance with the utmost frugality, and ashamed to be -suspected of half her economical practices; pursuing her own interest -in every thought, courting the favour of Colonel Brandon, of Mrs. -Jennings, and of every wealthy friend. In Edward, she knew not what -she saw, nor what she wished to see. Happy or unhappy, nothing pleased -her; she turned away her head from every sketch of him. - -Elinor flattered herself that some one of their connections in London -would write to them to announce the event, and give farther -particulars,--but day after day passed off, and brought no letter, no -tidings. Though uncertain that any one were to blame, she found fault -with every absent friend. They were all thoughtless or indolent. - -"When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma'am?" was an inquiry which -sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on. - -"I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to -hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should -not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day." - -This was gaining something, something to look forward to. Colonel -Brandon must have some information to give. - -Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a man on -horseback drew her eyes to the window. He stopped at their gate. It -was a gentleman, it was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear -more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But--it was _not_ Colonel -Brandon--neither his air--nor his height. Were it possible, she must -say it must be Edward. She looked again. He had just dismounted;--she -could not be mistaken,--it _was_ Edward. She moved away and sat down. -"He comes from Mr. Pratt's purposely to see us. I _will_ be calm, I -_will_ be mistress of myself." - -In a moment she perceived that the others were likewise aware of the -mistake. She saw her mother and Marianne change colour; saw them look -at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have -given the world to be able to speak--and to make them understand that -she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to -him;--but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their -own discretion. - -Not a syllable passed aloud. They all waited in silence for the -appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel -path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before -them. - -His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for -Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if -fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. -Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of -that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be -guided in every thing, met with a look of forced complacency, gave him -her hand, and wished him joy. - -[Illustration: _It was Edward._] - -He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor's lips -had moved with her mother's, and, when the moment of action was over, -she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too -late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again -and talked of the weather. - -Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal -her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole -of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and -therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a -strict silence. - -When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very -awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who -felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a -hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative. - -Another pause. - -Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own -voice, now said-- - -"Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?" - -"At Longstaple!" he replied, with an air of surprise. "No, my mother -is in town." - -"I meant," said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, "to -inquire for Mrs. _Edward_ Ferrars." - -She dared not look up;--but her mother and Marianne both turned their -eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, -after some hesitation, said,-- - -"Perhaps you mean--my brother--you mean Mrs.--Mrs. _Robert_ Ferrars." - -"Mrs. Robert Ferrars!"--was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an -accent of the utmost amazement;--and though Elinor could not speak, -even _her_ eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He -rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not -knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and -while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to -pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice-- - -"Perhaps you do not know--you may not have heard that my brother is -lately married to--to the youngest--to Miss Lucy Steele." - -His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but -Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of -such agitation as made her hardly know where she was. - -"Yes," said he, "they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish." - -Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as -soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first -she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any -where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw, or -even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a -reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of -Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, -quitted the room, and walked out towards the village, leaving the -others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his -situation, so wonderful and so sudden,--a perplexity which they had no -means of lessening but by their own conjectures. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX - - -Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might -appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and -to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily -pre-determined by all;--for after experiencing the blessings of _one_ -imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother's consent, as he -had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be -expected of him in the failure of _that_, than the immediate -contraction of another. - -His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask -Elinor to marry him;--and considering that he was not altogether -inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should -feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in -need of encouragement and fresh air. - -How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, -how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he -expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly -told. This only need be said;--that when they all sat down to table at -four o'clock, about three hours after his arrival, he had secured his -lady, engaged her mother's consent, and was not only in the rapturous -profession of the lover, but, in the reality of reason and truth, one -of the happiest of men. His situation indeed was more than commonly -joyful. He had more than the ordinary triumph of accepted love to -swell his heart, and raise his spirits. He was released without any -reproach to himself, from an entanglement which had long formed his -misery, from a woman whom he had long ceased to love; and elevated at -once to that security with another, which he must have thought of -almost with despair, as soon as he had learnt to consider it with -desire. He was brought, not from doubt or suspense, but from misery to -happiness; and the change was openly spoken in such a genuine, -flowing, grateful cheerfulness, as his friends had never witnessed in -him before. - -His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors -confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all -the philosophic dignity of twenty-four. - -"It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side," said he, "the -consequence of ignorance of the world and want of employment. Had my -mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen -from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never -have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at -the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet had I -then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a -distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have outgrown -the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as -in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, -instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to -choose any myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the -first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, -which belonging to the university would have given me; for I was not -entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the -world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not -make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no -companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not -unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt -myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I -spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: -Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty -too--at least I thought so _then_; and I had seen so little of other -women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. -Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement -was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at -the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly." - -The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the -happiness of the Dashwoods, was such--so great--as promised them all, -the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be -comfortable, knew not how to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, -how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his -delicacy, nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained -conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, the sight and -society of both. - -Marianne could speak _her_ happiness only by tears. Comparisons would -occur--regrets would arise;--and her joy, though sincere as her love -for her sister, was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor -language. - -But Elinor--how are _her_ feelings to be described? From the moment of -learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to -the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly -followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the -second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude -removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,--saw -him honourably released from his former engagement,--saw him instantly -profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection -as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,--she was -oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed -as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the -better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, -or any degree of tranquillity to her heart. - -Edward was now fixed at the cottage at least for a week;--for whatever -other claims might be made on him, it was impossible that less than a -week should be given up to the enjoyment of Elinor's company, or -suffice to say half that was to be said of the past, the present, and -the future;--for though a very few hours spent in the hard labor of -incessant talking will despatch more subjects than can really be in -common between any two rational creatures, yet with lovers it is -different. Between _them_ no subject is finished, no communication is -even made, till it has been made at least twenty times over. - -Lucy's marriage, the unceasing and reasonable wonder among them all, -formed of course one of the earliest discussions of the lovers;--and -Elinor's particular knowledge of each party made it appear to her in -every view, as one of the most extraordinary and unaccountable -circumstances she had ever heard. How they could be thrown together, -and by what attraction Robert could be drawn on to marry a girl, of -whose beauty she had herself heard him speak without any -admiration,--a girl too already engaged to his brother, and on whose -account that brother had been thrown off by his family--it was beyond -her comprehension to make out. To her own heart it was a delightful -affair, to her imagination it was even a ridiculous one, but to her -reason, her judgment, it was completely a puzzle. - -Edward could only attempt an explanation by supposing, that, perhaps, -at first accidentally meeting, the vanity of the one had been so -worked on by the flattery of the other, as to lead by degrees to all -the rest. Elinor remembered what Robert had told her in Harley Street, -of his opinion of what his own mediation in his brother's affairs -might have done, if applied to in time. She repeated it to Edward. - -"_That_ was exactly like Robert," was his immediate observation. "And -_that_," he presently added, "might perhaps be in _his_ head when the -acquaintance between them first began. And Lucy perhaps at first might -think only of procuring his good offices in my favour. Other designs -might afterward arise." - -How long it had been carrying on between them, however, he was equally -at a loss with herself to make out; for at Oxford, where he had -remained for choice ever since his quitting London, he had had no -means of hearing of her but from herself, and her letters to the very -last were neither less frequent, nor less affectionate than usual. Not -the smallest suspicion, therefore, had ever occurred to prepare him -for what followed;--and when at last it burst on him in a letter from -Lucy herself, he had been for some time, he believed, half stupified -between the wonder, the horror, and the joy of such a deliverance. He -put the letter into Elinor's hands. - -"DEAR SIR, - - "Being very sure I have long lost your affections, I have - thought myself at liberty to bestow my own on another, and - have no doubt of being as happy with him as I once used to - think I might be with you; but I scorn to accept a hand - while the heart was another's. Sincerely wish you happy in - your choice, and it shall not be my fault if we are not - always good friends, as our near relationship now makes - proper. I can safely say I owe you no ill-will, and am sure - you will be too generous to do us any ill offices. Your - brother has gained my affections entirely, and as we could - not live without one another, we are just returned from the - altar, and are now on our way to Dawlish for a few weeks, - which place your dear brother has great curiosity to see, - but thought I would first trouble you with these few lines, - and shall always remain-- - - "Your sincere well-wisher, friend, and sister, - - "LUCY FERRARS." - - "I have burnt all your letters, and will return your picture - the first opportunity. Please to destroy my scrawls--but the - ring with my hair you are very welcome to keep." - -Elinor read and returned it without any comment. - -"I will not ask your opinion of it as a composition," said Edward. -"For worlds would not I have had a letter of hers seen by _you_ in -former days. In a sister it is bad enough, but in a wife! how I have -blushed over the pages of her writing! and I believe I may say that -since the first half year of our foolish business this is the only -letter I ever received from her, of which the substance made me any -amends for the defect of the style." - -"However it may have come about," said Elinor, after a pause,--"they -are certainly married. And your mother has brought on herself a most -appropriate punishment. The independence she settled on Robert, -through resentment against you, has put it in his power to make his -own choice; and she has actually been bribing one son with a thousand -a-year, to do the very deed which she disinherited the other for -intending to do. She will hardly be less hurt, I suppose, by Robert's -marrying Lucy, than she would have been by your marrying her." - -"She will be more hurt by it, for Robert always was her favourite. She -will be more hurt by it, and on the same principle will forgive him -much sooner." - -In what state the affair stood at present between them, Edward knew -not, for no communication with any of his family had yet been -attempted by him. He had quitted Oxford within four and twenty hours -after Lucy's letter arrived, and with only one object before him, the -nearest road to Barton, had had no leisure to form any scheme of -conduct, with which that road did not hold the most intimate -connection. He could do nothing till he were assured of his fate with -Miss Dashwood; and by his rapidity in seeking _that_ fate, it is to be -supposed, in spite of the jealousy with which he had once thought of -Colonel Brandon, in spite of the modesty with which he rated his own -deserts, and the politeness with which he talked of his doubts, he did -not, upon the whole, expect a very cruel reception. It was his -business, however, to say that he _did_, and he said it very prettily. -What he might say on the subject a twelvemonth after, must be referred -to the imagination of husbands and wives. - -That Lucy had certainly meant to deceive, to go off with a flourish of -malice against him in her message by Thomas, was perfectly clear to -Elinor; and Edward himself, now thoroughly enlightened on her -character, had no scruple in believing her capable of the utmost -meanness of wanton ill-nature. Though his eyes had been long opened, -even before his acquaintance with Elinor began, to her ignorance and a -want of liberality in some of her opinions, they had been equally -imputed, by him, to her want of education; and till her last letter -reached him, he had always believed her to be a well-disposed, -good-hearted girl, and thoroughly attached to himself. Nothing but -such a persuasion could have prevented his putting an end to an -engagement, which, long before the discovery of it laid him open to -his mother's anger, had been a continual source of disquiet and regret -to him. - -"I thought it my duty," said he, "independent of my feelings, to give -her the option of continuing the engagement or not, when I was -renounced by my mother, and stood to all appearance without a friend -in the world to assist me. In such a situation as that, where there -seemed nothing to tempt the avarice or the vanity of any living -creature, how could I suppose, when she so earnestly, so warmly -insisted on sharing my fate, whatever it might be, that any thing but -the most disinterested affection was her inducement? And even now, I -cannot comprehend on what motive she acted, or what fancied advantage -it could be to her, to be fettered to a man for whom she had not the -smallest regard, and who had only two thousand pounds in the world. -She could not foresee that Colonel Brandon would give me a living." - -"No; but she might suppose that something would occur in your favour; -that your own family might in time relent. And at any rate, she lost -nothing by continuing the engagement, for she has proved that it -fettered neither her inclination nor her actions. The connection was -certainly a respectable one, and probably gained her consideration -among her friends; and, if nothing more advantageous occurred, it -would be better for her to marry _you_ than be single." - -Edward was, of course, immediately convinced that nothing could have -been more natural than Lucy's conduct, nor more self-evident than the -motive of it. - -Elinor scolded him, harshly as ladies always scold the imprudence -which compliments themselves, for having spent so much time with them -at Norland, when he must have felt his own inconstancy. - -"Your behaviour was certainly very wrong," said she; "because--to say -nothing of my own conviction, our relations were all led away by it to -fancy and expect _what_, as you were _then_ situated, could never be." - -He could only plead an ignorance of his own heart, and a mistaken -confidence in the force of his engagement. - -"I was simple enough to think, that because my _faith_ was plighted to -another, there could be no danger in my being with you; and that the -consciousness of my engagement was to keep my heart as safe and sacred -as my honour. I felt that I admired you, but I told myself it was only -friendship; and till I began to make comparisons between yourself and -Lucy, I did not know how far I was got. After that, I suppose, I _was_ -wrong in remaining so much in Sussex, and the arguments with which I -reconciled myself to the expediency of it, were no better than -these:--The danger is my own; I am doing no injury to anybody but -myself." - -Elinor smiled, and shook her head. - -Edward heard with pleasure of Colonel Brandon's being expected at the -Cottage, as he really wished not only to be better acquainted with -him, but to have an opportunity of convincing him that he no longer -resented his giving him the living of Delaford--"Which, at present," -said he, "after thanks so ungraciously delivered as mine were on the -occasion, he must think I have never forgiven him for offering." - -_Now_ he felt astonished himself that he had never yet been to the -place. But so little interest had he taken in the matter, that he owed -all his knowledge of the house, garden, and glebe, extent of the -parish, condition of the land, and rate of the tithes, to Elinor -herself, who had heard so much of it from Colonel Brandon, and heard -it with so much attention, as to be entirely mistress of the subject. - -One question after this only remained undecided, between them, one -difficulty only was to be overcome. They were brought together by -mutual affection, with the warmest approbation of their real friends; -their intimate knowledge of each other seemed to make their happiness -certain--and they only wanted something to live upon. Edward had two -thousand pounds, and Elinor one, which, with Delaford living, was all -that they could call their own; for it was impossible that Mrs. -Dashwood should advance anything; and they were neither of them quite -enough in love to think that three hundred and fifty pounds a-year -would supply them with the comforts of life. - -Edward was not entirely without hopes of some favourable change in his -mother towards him; and on _that_ he rested for the residue of their -income. But Elinor had no such dependence; for since Edward would -still be unable to marry Miss Morton, and his choosing herself had -been spoken of in Mrs. Ferrars's flattering language as only a lesser -evil than his choosing Lucy Steele, she feared that Robert's offence -would serve no other purpose than to enrich Fanny. - -About four days after Edward's arrival Colonel Brandon appeared, to -complete Mrs. Dashwood's satisfaction, and to give her the dignity of -having, for the first time since her living at Barton, more company -with her than her house would hold. Edward was allowed to retain the -privilege of first comer, and Colonel Brandon therefore walked every -night to his old quarters at the Park; from whence he usually returned -in the morning, early enough to interrupt the lovers' first -tête-à-tête before breakfast. - -A three weeks' residence at Delaford, where, in his evening hours at -least, he had little to do but to calculate the disproportion between -thirty-six and seventeen, brought him to Barton in a temper of mind -which needed all the improvement in Marianne's looks, all the kindness -of her welcome, and all the encouragement of her mother's language, to -make it cheerful. Among such friends, however, and such flattery, he -did revive. No rumour of Lucy's marriage had yet reached him:--he knew -nothing of what had passed; and the first hours of his visit were -consequently spent in hearing and in wondering. Every thing was -explained to him by Mrs. Dashwood, and he found fresh reason to -rejoice in what he had done for Mr. Ferrars, since eventually it -promoted the interest of Elinor. - -It would be needless to say, that the gentlemen advanced in the good -opinion of each other, as they advanced in each other's acquaintance, -for it could not be otherwise. Their resemblance in good principles -and good sense, in disposition and manner of thinking, would probably -have been sufficient to unite them in friendship, without any other -attraction; but their being in love with two sisters, and two sisters -fond of each other, made that mutual regard inevitable and immediate, -which might otherwise have waited the effect of time and judgment. - -The letters from town, which a few days before would have made every -nerve in Elinor's body thrill with transport, now arrived to be read -with less emotion than mirth. Mrs. Jennings wrote to tell the -wonderful tale, to vent her honest indignation against the jilting -girl, and pour forth her compassion towards poor Mr. Edward, who, she -was sure, had quite doted upon the worthless hussy, and was now, by -all accounts, almost broken-hearted, at Oxford. "I do think," she -continued, "nothing was ever carried on so sly; for it was but two -days before Lucy called and sat a couple of hours with me. Not a soul -suspected anything of the matter, not even Nancy, who, poor soul! came -crying to me the day after, in a great fright for fear of Mrs. -Ferrars, as well as not knowing how to get to Plymouth; for Lucy it -seems borrowed all her money before she went off to be married, on -purpose we suppose to make a show with, and poor Nancy had not seven -shillings in the world;--so I was very glad to give her five guineas -to take her down to Exeter, where she thinks of staying three or four -weeks with Mrs. Burgess, in hopes, as I tell her, to fall in with the -Doctor again. And I must say that Lucy's crossness not to take them -along with them in the chaise is worse than all. Poor Mr. Edward! I -cannot get him out of my head, but you must send for him to Barton, -and Miss Marianne must try to comfort him." - -Mr. Dashwood's strains were more solemn. Mrs. Ferrars was the most -unfortunate of women--poor Fanny had suffered agonies of -sensibility--and he considered the existence of each, under such a -blow, with grateful wonder. Robert's offence was unpardonable, but -Lucy's was infinitely worse. Neither of them were ever again to be -mentioned to Mrs. Ferrars; and even, if she might hereafter be induced -to forgive her son, his wife should never be acknowledged as her -daughter, nor be permitted to appear in her presence. The secrecy with -which everything had been carried on between them, was rationally -treated as enormously heightening the crime, because, had any -suspicion of it occurred to the others, proper measures would have -been taken to prevent the marriage; and he called on Elinor to join -with him in regretting that Lucy's engagement with Edward had not -rather been fulfilled, than that she should thus be the means of -spreading misery farther in the family. He thus continued:-- - -"Mrs. Ferrars has never yet mentioned Edward's name, which does not -surprise us; but, to our great astonishment, not a line has been -received from him on the occasion. Perhaps, however, he is kept silent -by his fear of offending, and I shall, therefore, give him a hint, by -a line to Oxford, that his sister and I both think a letter of proper -submission from him, addressed perhaps to Fanny, and by her shown to -her mother, might not be taken amiss; for we all know the tenderness -of Mrs. Ferrars's heart, and that she wishes for nothing so much as to -be on good terms with her children." - -This paragraph was of some importance to the prospects and conduct of -Edward. It determined him to attempt a reconciliation, though not -exactly in the manner pointed out by their brother and sister. - -"A letter of proper submission!" repeated he; "would they have me beg -my mother's pardon for Robert's ingratitude to _her_, and breach of -honour to _me_? I can make no submission. I am grown neither humble -nor penitent by what has passed. I am grown very happy; but that would -not interest. I know of no submission that _is_ proper for me to -make." - -"You may certainly ask to be forgiven," said Elinor, "because you have -offended;--and I should think you might _now_ venture so far as to -profess some concern for having ever formed the engagement which drew -on you your mother's anger." - -He agreed that he might. - -"And when she has forgiven you, perhaps a little humility may be -convenient while acknowledging a second engagement, almost as -imprudent in _her_ eyes as the first." - -He had nothing to urge against it, but still resisted the idea of a -letter of proper submission; and therefore, to make it easier to him, -as he declared a much greater willingness to make mean concessions by -word of mouth than on paper, it was resolved that, instead of writing -to Fanny, he should go to London, and personally entreat her good -offices in his favour. "And if they really _do_ interest themselves," -said Marianne, in her new character of candour, "in bringing about a -reconciliation, I shall think that even John and Fanny are not -entirely without merit." - -After a visit on Colonel Brandon's side of only three or four days, -the two gentlemen quitted Barton together. They were to go immediately -to Delaford, that Edward might have some personal knowledge of his -future home, and assist his patron and friend in deciding on what -improvements were needed to it; and from thence, after staying there a -couple of nights, he was to proceed on his journey to town. - - - - -CHAPTER L - - -After a proper resistance on the part of Mrs. Ferrars, just so violent -and so steady as to preserve her from that reproach which she always -seemed fearful of incurring, the reproach of being too amiable, Edward -was admitted to her presence, and pronounced to be again her son. - -Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. For many years of -her life she had had two sons; but the crime and annihilation of -Edward a few weeks ago, had robbed her of one; the similar -annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any; and -now, by the resuscitation of Edward, she had one again. - -In spite of his being allowed once more to live, however, he did not -feel the continuance of his existence secure, till he had revealed his -present engagement; for the publication of that circumstance, he -feared, might give a sudden turn to his constitution, and carry him -off as rapidly as before. With apprehensive caution therefore it was -revealed, and he was listened to with unexpected calmness. Mrs. -Ferrars at first reasonably endeavoured to dissuade him from marrying -Miss Dashwood, by every argument in her power; told him, that in Miss -Morton he would have a woman of higher rank and larger fortune; and -enforced the assertion, by observing that Miss Morton was the daughter -of a nobleman with thirty thousand pounds, while Miss Dashwood was -only the daughter of a private gentleman with no more than _three_; -but when she found that, though perfectly admitting the truth of her -representation, he was by no means inclined to be guided by it, she -judged it wisest, from the experience of the past, to submit; and -therefore, after such an ungracious delay as she owed to her own -dignity, and as served to prevent every suspicion of good-will, she -issued her decree of consent to the marriage of Edward and Elinor. - -What she would engage to do towards augmenting their income was next -to be considered; and here it plainly appeared, that though Edward was -now her only son, he was by no means her eldest; for while Robert was -inevitably endowed with a thousand pounds a-year, not the smallest -objection was made against Edward's taking orders for the sake of two -hundred and fifty at the utmost; nor was anything promised either for -the present or in future, beyond the ten thousand pounds, which had -been given with Fanny. - -It was as much, however, as was desired, and more than was expected, -by Edward and Elinor; and Mrs. Ferrars herself, by her shuffling -excuses, seemed the only person surprised at her not giving more. - -With an income quite sufficient to their wants thus secured to them, -they had nothing to wait for after Edward was in possession of the -living, but the readiness of the house, to which Colonel Brandon, with -an eager desire for the accommodation of Elinor, was making -considerable improvements; and after waiting some time for their -completion, after experiencing, as usual, a thousand disappointments -and delays from the unaccountable dilatoriness of the workmen, Elinor, -as usual, broke through the first positive resolution of not marrying -till every thing was ready, and the ceremony took place in Barton -church early in the autumn. - -The first month after their marriage was spent with their friend at -the Mansion-house; from whence they could superintend the progress of -the Parsonage, and direct every thing as they liked on the -spot;--could choose papers, project shrubberies, and invent a sweep. -Mrs. Jennings's prophecies, though rather jumbled together, were -chiefly fulfilled; for she was able to visit Edward and his wife in -their Parsonage by Michaelmas, and she found in Elinor and her -husband, as she really believed, one of the happiest couples in the -world. They had in fact nothing to wish for, but the marriage of -Colonel Brandon and Marianne, and rather better pasturage for their -cows. - -They were visited on their first settling by almost all their -relations and friends. Mrs. Ferrars came to inspect the happiness -which she was almost ashamed of having authorised; and even the -Dashwoods were at the expense of a journey from Sussex to do them -honour. - -"I will not say that I am disappointed, my dear sister," said John, as -they were walking together one morning before the gates of Delaford -House, "_that_ would be saying too much, for certainly you have been -one of the most fortunate young women in the world, as it is. But, I -confess, it would give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon -brother. His property here, his place, his house,--every thing is in -such respectable and excellent condition! And his woods,--I have not -seen such timber any where in Dorsetshire, as there is now standing in -Delaford Hanger! And though, perhaps, Marianne may not seem exactly -the person to attract him, yet I think it would altogether be -advisable for you to have them now frequently staying with you, for as -Colonel Brandon seems a great deal at home, nobody can tell what may -happen; for, when people are much thrown together, and see little of -anybody else,--and it will always be in your power to set her off to -advantage, and so forth. In short, you may as well give her a chance; -You understand me." - -But though Mrs. Ferrars _did_ come to see them, and always treated -them with the make-believe of decent affection, they were never -insulted by her real favour and preference. _That_ was due to the -folly of Robert, and the cunning of his wife; and it was earned by -them before many months had passed away. The selfish sagacity of the -latter, which had at first drawn Robert into the scrape, was the -principal instrument of his deliverance from it; for her respectful -humility, assiduous attentions, and endless flatteries, as soon as the -smallest opening was given for their exercise, reconciled Mrs. Ferrars -to his choice, and re-established him completely in her favour. - -[Illustration: _Everything in such respectable condition_] - -The whole of Lucy's behaviour in the affair, and the prosperity which -crowned it, therefore, may be held forth as a most encouraging -instance of what an earnest, an unceasing attention to self-interest, -however its progress may be apparently obstructed, will do in securing -every advantage of fortune, with no other sacrifice than that of time -and conscience. When Robert first sought her acquaintance, and -privately visited her in Bartlett's Buildings, it was only with the -view imputed to him by his brother. He merely meant to persuade her to -give up the engagement; and as there could be nothing to overcome but -the affection of both, he naturally expected that one or two -interviews would settle the matter. In that point, however, and that -only, he erred; for though Lucy soon gave him hopes that his eloquence -would convince her in _time_, another visit, another conversation, was -always wanted to produce this conviction. Some doubts always lingered -in her mind when they parted, which could only be removed by another -half hour's discourse with himself. His attendance was by this means -secured, and the rest followed in course. Instead of talking of -Edward, they came gradually to talk only of Robert,--a subject on -which he had always more to say than on any other, and in which she -soon betrayed an interest even equal to his own; and in short, it -became speedily evident to both, that he had entirely supplanted his -brother. He was proud of his conquest, proud of tricking Edward, and -very proud of marrying privately without his mother's consent. What -immediately followed is known. They passed some months in great -happiness at Dawlish; for she had many relations and old acquaintances -to cut--and he drew several plans for magnificent cottages; and from -thence returning to town, procured the forgiveness of Mrs. Ferrars, by -the simple expedient of asking it, which, at Lucy's instigation, was -adopted. The forgiveness, at first, indeed, as was reasonable, -comprehended only Robert; and Lucy, who had owed his mother no duty -and therefore could have transgressed none, still remained some weeks -longer unpardoned. But perseverance in humility of conduct and -messages, in self-condemnation for Robert's offence, and gratitude for -the unkindness she was treated with, procured her in time the haughty -notice which overcame her by its graciousness, and led soon -afterwards, by rapid degrees, to the highest state of affection and -influence. Lucy became as necessary to Mrs. Ferrars, as either Robert -or Fanny; and while Edward was never cordially forgiven for having -once intended to marry her, and Elinor, though superior to her in -fortune and birth, was spoken of as an intruder, _she_ was in every -thing considered, and always openly acknowledged, to be a favourite -child. They settled in town, received very liberal assistance from -Mrs. Ferrars, were on the best terms imaginable with the Dashwoods; -and setting aside the jealousies and ill-will continually subsisting -between Fanny and Lucy, in which their husbands of course took a part, -as well as the frequent domestic disagreements between Robert and Lucy -themselves, nothing could exceed the harmony in which they all lived -together. - -What Edward had done to forfeit the right of eldest son, might have -puzzled many people to find out; and what Robert had done to succeed -to it, might have puzzled them still more. It was an arrangement, -however, justified in its effects, if not in its cause; for nothing -ever appeared in Robert's style of living or of talking to give a -suspicion of his regretting the extent of his income, as either -leaving his brother too little, or bringing himself too much;--and if -Edward might be judged from the ready discharge of his duties in every -particular, from an increasing attachment to his wife and his home, -and from the regular cheerfulness of his spirits, he might be supposed -no less contented with his lot, no less free from every wish of an -exchange. - -Elinor's marriage divided her as little from her family as could well -be contrived, without rendering the cottage at Barton entirely -useless, for her mother and sisters spent much more than half their -time with her. Mrs. Dashwood was acting on motives of policy as well -as pleasure in the frequency of her visits at Delaford; for her wish -of bringing Marianne and Colonel Brandon together was hardly less -earnest, though rather more liberal than what John had expressed. It -was now her darling object. Precious as was the company of her -daughter to her, she desired nothing so much as to give up its -constant enjoyment to her valued friend; and to see Marianne settled -at the mansion-house was equally the wish of Edward and Elinor. They -each felt his sorrows, and their own obligations, and Marianne, by -general consent, was to be the reward of all. - -With such a confederacy against her--with a knowledge so intimate of -his goodness--with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself, -which at last, though long after it was observable to everybody -else--burst on her--what could she do? - -Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to -discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her -conduct, her most favourite maxims. She was born to overcome an -affection formed so late in life as at seventeen, and with no -sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily -to give her hand to another!--and _that_ other, a man who had suffered -no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom, two -years before, she had considered too old to be married,--and who still -sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat! - -But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible -passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting, -instead of remaining even for ever with her mother, and finding her -only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm -and sober judgment she had determined on,--she found herself at -nineteen, submitting to new attachments, entering on new duties, -placed in a new home, a wife, the mistress of a family, and the -patroness of a village. - -Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, -believed he deserved to be;--in Marianne he was consoled for every -past affliction;--her regard and her society restored his mind to -animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found -her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and -delight of each observing friend. Marianne could never love by halves; -and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, -as it had once been to Willoughby. - -Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his -punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness -of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character, -as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had -he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been -happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought -its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;--nor that he -long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with -regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from -society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a -broken heart, must not be depended on--for he did neither. He lived to -exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of -humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses -and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable -degree of domestic felicity. - -For Marianne, however, in spite of his incivility in surviving her -loss, he always retained that decided regard which interested him in -every thing that befell her, and made her his secret standard of -perfection in woman; and many a rising beauty would be slighted by him -in after-days as bearing no comparison with Mrs. Brandon. - -Mrs. Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage, without -attempting a removal to Delaford; and fortunately for Sir John and -Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken from them, Margaret had -reached an age highly suitable for dancing, and not very ineligible -for being supposed to have a lover. - -Between Barton and Delaford, there was that constant communication -which strong family affection would naturally dictate;--and among the -merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked -as the least considerable, that though sisters, and living almost -within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement -between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands. - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE AND SENSIBILITY *** - -***** This file should be named 21839-8.txt or 21839-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/3/21839/ - -Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall and Sankar Viswanathan (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Print project.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/21839.txt b/old/21839.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6c343f0..0000000 --- a/old/21839.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13655 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Sense and Sensibility - -Author: Jane Austen - -Commentator: Austin Dobson - -Illustrator: Hugh Thomson - -Release Date: June 15, 2007 [EBook #21839] -[Last updated: February 11, 2015] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE AND SENSIBILITY *** - - - - -Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall and Sankar Viswanathan (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Print project.) - - - - - - - - - - Transcriber's Note: - -The Table of Contents is not part of the original book. The illustration -on page 290 is missing from the book. The Introduction ends abruptly. -Seems incomplete. - - - [Illustration: _Mr. Dashwood introduced him._--P. 219.] - - - - SENSE & SENSIBILITY - - - - BY - - JANE AUSTEN - - - - WITH AN INTRODUCTION - - - BY - - AUSTIN DOBSON - - - - ILLUSTRATED - - - BY - - HUGH THOMSON - - - - - - - LONDON: MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - - NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - - 1902 - - - - _First Edition with Hugh Thomson's Illustrations_ 1896 - - * * * * * - - - - -CONTENTS - - -INTRODUCTION -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS -CHAPTER I -CHAPTER II -CHAPTER III -CHAPTER IV -CHAPTER V -CHAPTER VI -CHAPTER VII -CHAPTER VIII -CHAPTER IX -CHAPTER X -CHAPTER XI -CHAPTER XII -CHAPTER XIII -CHAPTER XIV -CHAPTER XV -CHAPTER XVI -CHAPTER XVII -CHAPTER XVIII -CHAPTER XIX -CHAPTER XX -CHAPTER XXI -CHAPTER XXII -CHAPTER XXIII -CHAPTER XXIV -CHAPTER XXV -CHAPTER XXVI -CHAPTER XXVII -CHAPTER XXVIII -CHAPTER XXIX -CHAPTER XXX -CHAPTER XXXI -CHAPTER XXXII -CHAPTER XXXIII -CHAPTER XXXIV -CHAPTER XXXV -CHAPTER XXXVI -CHAPTER XXXVII -CHAPTER XXXVIII -CHAPTER XXXIX -CHAPTER XL -CHAPTER XLI -CHAPTER XLII -CHAPTER XLIII -CHAPTER XLIV -CHAPTER XLV -CHAPTER XLVI -CHAPTER XLVII -CHAPTER XLVIII -CHAPTER XLIX -CHAPTER L - - * * * * * - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -With the title of _Sense and Sensibility_ is connected one of those minor -problems which delight the cummin-splitters of criticism. In the _Cecilia_ -of Madame D'Arblay--the forerunner, if not the model, of Miss Austen--is a -sentence which at first sight suggests some relationship to the name of -the book which, in the present series, inaugurated Miss Austen's novels. -'The whole of this unfortunate business'--says a certain didactic Dr. -Lyster, talking in capitals, towards the end of volume three of -_Cecilia_--'has been the result of PRIDE and PREJUDICE,' and looking to -the admitted familiarity of Miss Austen with Madame D'Arblay's work, it -has been concluded that Miss Austen borrowed from _Cecilia_, the title of -her second novel. But here comes in the little problem to which we have -referred. _Pride and Prejudice_ it is true, was written and finished -before _Sense and Sensibility_--its original title for several years being -_First Impressions_. Then, in 1797, the author fell to work upon an older -essay in letters _a la_ Richardson, called _Elinor and Marianne_, which -she re-christened _Sense and Sensibility._ This, as we know, was her first -published book; and whatever may be the connection between the title of -_Pride and Prejudice_ and the passage in _Cecilia_, there is an obvious -connection between the title of _Pride and Prejudice_ and the _title of -Sense and Sensibility_. If Miss Austen re-christened _Elinor and -Marianne_ before she changed the title of _First Impressions_, as she well -may have, it is extremely unlikely that the name of _Pride and Prejudice_ -has anything to do with _Cecilia_ (which, besides, had been published at -least twenty years before). Upon the whole, therefore, it is most likely -that the passage in Madame D'Arblay is a mere coincidence; and that in -_Sense and Sensibility_, as well as in the novel that succeeded it in -publication, Miss Austen, after the fashion of the old morality plays, -simply substituted the leading characteristics of her principal personages -for their names. Indeed, in _Sense and Sensibility_ the sense of Elinor, -and the sensibility (or rather _sensiblerie_) of Marianne, are markedly -emphasised in the opening pages of the book But Miss Austen subsequently, -and, as we think, wisely, discarded in her remaining efforts the cheap -attraction of an alliterative title. _Emma_ and _Persuasion, Northanger -Abbey_ and _Mansfield Park_, are names far more in consonance with the -quiet tone of her easy and unobtrusive art. - -_Elinor and Marianne_ was originally written about 1792. After the -completion--or partial completion, for it was again revised in -1811--of _First Impressions_ (subsequently _Pride and Prejudice_), -Miss Austen set about recasting _Elinor and Marianne_, then composed -in the form of letters; and she had no sooner accomplished this task, -than she began _Northanger Abbey_. It would be interesting to know to -what extent she remodelled _Sense and Sensibility_ in 1797-98, for we -are told that previous to its publication in 1811 she again devoted a -considerable time to its preparation for the press, and it is clear -that this does not mean the correction of proofs alone, but also a -preliminary revision of MS. Especially would it be interesting if we -could ascertain whether any of its more finished passages, _e.g._ the -admirable conversation between the Miss Dashwoods and Willoughby in -chapter x., were the result of those fallow and apparently barren -years at Bath and Southampton, or whether they were already part of -the second version of 1797-98. But upon this matter the records are -mute. A careful examination of the correspondence published by Lord -Brabourne in 1884 only reveals two definite references to _Sense and -Sensibility_ and these are absolutely unfruitful in suggestion. In -April 1811 she speaks of having corrected two sheets of 'S and S,' -which she has scarcely a hope of getting out in the following June; -and in September, an extract from the diary of another member of the -family indirectly discloses the fact that the book had by that time -been published. This extract is a brief reference to a letter which -had been received from Cassandra Austen, begging her correspondent not -to mention that Aunt Jane wrote _Sense and Sensibility._ Beyond these -minute items of information, and the statement--already referred to in -the Introduction to _Pride and Prejudice_--that she considered herself -overpaid for the labour she had bestowed upon it, absolutely nothing -seems to have been preserved by her descendants respecting her first -printed effort. In the absence of particulars some of her critics have -fallen to speculate upon the reason which made her select it, and not -_Pride and Prejudice_, for her debut; and they have, perhaps -naturally, found in the fact a fresh confirmation of that traditional -blindness of authors to their own best work, which is one of the -commonplaces of literary history. But this is to premise that she -_did_ regard it as her masterpiece, a fact which, apart from this -accident of priority of issue, is, as far as we are aware, nowhere -asserted. A simpler solution is probably that, of the three novels she -had written or sketched by 1811, _Pride and Prejudice_ was languishing -under the stigma of having been refused by one bookseller without the -formality of inspection, while _Northanger Abbey_ was lying _perdu_ in -another bookseller's drawer at Bath. In these circumstances it is -intelligible that she should turn to _Sense and Sensibility_, when, at -length--upon the occasion of a visit to her brother in London in the -spring of 1811--Mr. T. Egerton of the 'Military Library,' Whitehall, -dawned upon the horizon as a practicable publisher. - -By the time _Sense and Sensibility_ left the press, Miss Austen was -again domiciled at Chawton Cottage. For those accustomed to the -swarming reviews of our day, with their Babel of notices, it may seem -strange that there should be no record of the effect produced, seeing -that, as already stated, the book sold well enough to enable its -putter-forth to hand over to its author what Mr. Gargery, in _Great -Expectations_, would have described as 'a cool L150.' Surely Mr. -Egerton, who had visited Miss Austen at Sloane Street, must have later -conveyed to her some intelligence of the way in which her work had -been welcomed by the public. But if he did, it is no longer -discoverable. Mr. Austen Leigh, her first and best biographer, could -find no account either of the publication or of the author's feelings -thereupon. As far as it is possible to judge, the critical verdicts -she obtained were mainly derived from her own relatives and intimate -friends, and some of these latter--if one may trust a little anthology -which she herself collected, and from which Mr. Austen Leigh prints -extracts--must have been more often exasperating than sympathetic. The -long chorus of intelligent approval by which she was afterwards -greeted did not begin to be really audible before her death, and her -'fit audience' during her lifetime must have been emphatically 'few,' -Of two criticisms which came out in the _Quarterly_ early in the -century, she could only have seen one, that of 1815; the other, by -Archbishop Whately, the first which treated her in earnest, did not -appear until she had been three years dead. Dr. Whately deals mainly -with _Mansfield Park_ and _Persuasion_; his predecessor professed to -review _Emma_, though he also gives brief summaries of _Sense and -Sensibility_ and _Pride and Prejudice_. Mr. Austen Leigh, we think, -speaks too contemptuously of this initial notice of 1815. If, at -certain points, it is half-hearted and inadequate, it is still fairly -accurate in its recognition of Miss Austen's supreme merit, as -contrasted with her contemporaries--to wit, her skill in investing the -fortunes of ordinary characters and the narrative of common -occurrences with all the sustained excitement of romance. The Reviewer -points out very justly that this kind of work, 'being deprived of all -that, according to Bayes, goes "to elevate and surprise," must make -amends by displaying depth of knowledge and dexterity of execution.' -And in these qualities, even with such living competitors of her own -sex as Miss Edgeworth and Miss Brunton (whose _Self-control_ came out -in the same year as _Sense and Sensibility_), he does not scruple to -declare that 'Miss Austen stands almost alone.' If he omits to lay -stress upon her judgment, her nice sense of fitness, her restraint, -her fine irony, and the delicacy of her artistic touch, something must -be allowed for the hesitations and reservations which invariably beset -the critical pioneer. - -To contend, however, for a moment that the present volume is Miss -Austen's greatest, as it was her first published, novel, would be a -mere exercise in paradox. There are, who swear by _Persuasion_; there -are, who prefer _Emma_ and _Mansfield Park_; there is a large -contingent for _Pride and Prejudice_; and there is even a section -which advocates the pre-eminence of _Northanger Abbey_. But no one, as -far as we can remember, has ever put _Sense and Sensibility_ first, -nor can we believe that its author did so herself. And yet it is she -herself who has furnished the standard by which we judge it, and it is -by comparison with _Pride and Prejudice_, in which the leading -characters are also two sisters, that we assess and depress its merit. -The Elinor and Marianne of _Sense and Sensibility_ are only inferior -when they are contrasted with the Elizabeth and Jane of _Pride and -Prejudice_; and even then, it is probably because we personally like -the handsome and amiable Jane Bennet rather better than the obsolete -survival of the sentimental novel represented by Marianne Dashwood. -Darcy and Bingley again are much more 'likeable' (to use Lady -Queensberry's word) than the colourless Edward Ferrars and the -stiff-jointed Colonel Brandon. Yet it might not unfairly be contended -that there is more fidelity to what Mr. Thomas Hardy has termed -'life's little ironies' in Miss Austen's disposal of the two Miss -Dashwoods than there is in her disposal of the heroines of _Pride and -Prejudice_. Every one does not get a Bingley, or a Darcy (with a -park); but a good many sensible girls like Elinor pair off contentedly -with poor creatures like Edward Ferrars, while not a few enthusiasts -like Marianne decline at last upon middle-aged colonels with flannel -waistcoats. George Eliot, we fancy, would have held that the fates of -Elinor and Marianne were more probable than the fortunes of Jane and -Eliza Bennet. That, of the remaining characters, there is certainly -none to rival Mr. Bennet, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, or the -ineffable Mr. Collins, of _Pride and Prejudice_, is true; but we -confess to a kindness for vulgar matchmaking Mrs. Jennings with her -still-room 'parmaceti for an inward bruise' in the shape of a glass of -old Constantia; and for the diluted Squire Western, Sir John -Middleton, whose horror of being alone carries him to the point of -rejoicing in the acquisition of _two_ to the population of London. -Excellent again are Mr. Palmer and his wife; excellent, in their -sordid veracity, the self-seeking figures of the Miss Steeles. But the -pearls of the book must be allowed to be that egregious amateur in -toothpick-cases, Mr. Robert Ferrars (with his excursus in chapter -xxxvi. on life in a cottage), and the admirably-matched Mr. and Mrs. -John Dashwood. Miss Austen herself has never done anything better than -the inimitable and oft-quoted chapter wherein is debated between the -last-named pair the momentous matter of the amount to be devoted to -Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters; while the suggestion in chapters -xxxiii. and xxxiv. that the owner of Norland was once within some -thousands of having to sell out at a loss, deserves to be remembered -with that other memorable escape of Sir Roger de Coverley's ancestor, -who was only not killed in the civil wars because 'he was sent out of -the field upon a private message, the day before the battle of -Worcester.' - -Of local colouring there is as little in _Sense and Sensibility_ as in -_Pride and Prejudice_. It is not unlikely that some memories of -Steventon may survive in Norland; and it may be noted that there is -actually a Barton Place to the north of Exeter, not far from Lord -Iddesleigh's well-known seat of Upton Pynes. It is scarcely possible, -also, not to believe that, in Mrs. Jennings's description of -Delaford--'a nice place, I can tell you; exactly what I call a nice -old-fashioned place, full of comforts and conveniences; quite shut in -with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in -the country; and such a mulberry tree in one corner!'--Miss Austen had -in mind some real Hampshire or Devonshire country house. In any case, -it comes nearer a picture than what we usually get from her pen. 'Then -there is a dovecote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a very pretty -canal; and everything, in short, that one could wish for; and, -moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile -from the turnpike-road, so 'tis never dull, for if you only go and sit -up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the -carriages that pass along.' The last lines suggest those quaint -'gazebos' and alcoves, which, in the coaching days, were so often to -be found perched at the roadside, where one might sit and watch the -Dover or Canterbury stage go whirling by. Of genteel accomplishments -there is a touch In the 'landscape in coloured silks' which Charlotte -Palmer had worked at school (chap, xxvi.); and of old remedies for the -lost art of swooning, in the 'lavender drops' of chapter xxix. The -mention of a dance as a 'little hop' in chapter ix. reads like a -premature instance of middle Victorian slang. But nothing is new--even -in a novel--and 'hop,' in this sense, is at least as old as _Joseph -Andrews_. - - * * * * * - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - -Mr. Dashwood introduced him _Frontispiece_ - -His son's son, a child of four years old - -"I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it" - -So shy before company - -They sang together - -He cut off a long lock of her hair - -"I have found you out in spite of all your tricks" - -Apparently In violent affliction - -Begging her to stop - -Came to take a survey of the guest - -"I declare they are quite charming" - -Mischievous tricks - -Drinking to her best affections - -Amiably bashful - -"I can answer for it," said Mrs. Jennings - -At that moment she first perceived him - -"How fond he was of it!" - -Offered him one of Folly's puppies - -A very smart beau - -Introduced to Mrs. Jennings - -Mrs. Jennings assured him directly that she should not stand -upon ceremony - -Mrs. Ferrars - -Drawing him a little aside - -In a whisper - -"You have heard, I suppose" - -Talking over the business - -"She put in the feather last night" - -Listening at the door - -Both gained considerable amusement - -"Of one thing I may assure you" - -Showing her child to the housekeeper - -The gardener's lamentations - -Opened a window-shutter - -"I entreat you to stay" - -"I was formally dismissed" - -"I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight" - -"And see how the children go on" - -"I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is married" - -It _was_ Edward - -"Everything in such respectable condition" - - * * * * * - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate -was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of -their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so -respectable a manner as to engage the general good opinion of their -surrounding acquaintance. The late owner of this estate was a single -man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for many years of his -life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister. But her -death, which happened ten years before his own, produced a great -alteration in his home; for to supply her loss, he invited and -received into his house the family of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, -the legal inheritor of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he -intended to bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, and -their children, the old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent. His -attachment to them all increased. The constant attention of Mr. and -Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from -interest, but from goodness of heart, gave him every degree of solid -comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the -children added a relish to his existence. - -By a former marriage, Mr. Henry Dashwood had one son: by his present -lady, three daughters. The son, a steady respectable young man, was -amply provided for by the fortune of his mother, which had been large, -and half of which devolved on him on his coming of age. By his own -marriage, likewise, which happened soon afterwards, he added to his -wealth. To him therefore the succession to the Norland estate was not -so really important as to his sisters; for their fortune, independent -of what might arise to them from their father's inheriting that -property, could be but small. Their mother had nothing, and their -father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal; for the -remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was also secured to her -child, and he had only a life-interest in it. - -The old gentleman died: his will was read, and like almost every -other will, gave as much disappointment as pleasure. He was neither so -unjust, nor so ungrateful, as to leave his estate from his nephew; but -he left it to him on such terms as destroyed half the value of the -bequest. Mr. Dashwood had wished for it more for the sake of his wife -and daughters than for himself or his son; but to his son, and his -son's son, a child of four years old, it was secured, in such a way, -as to leave to himself no power of providing for those who were most -dear to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge on the -estate, or by any sale of its valuable woods. The whole was tied up -for the benefit of this child, who, in occasional visits with his -father and mother at Norland, had so far gained on the affections of -his uncle, by such attractions as are by no means unusual in children -of two or three years old; an imperfect articulation, an earnest -desire of having his own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of -noise, as to outweigh all the value of all the attention which, for -years, he had received from his niece and her daughters. He meant not -to be unkind, however, and, as a mark of his affection for the three -girls, he left them a thousand pounds a-piece. - -Mr. Dashwood's disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper -was cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many -years, and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the -produce of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate -improvement. But the fortune, which had been so tardy in coming, was -his only one twelvemonth. He survived his uncle no longer; and ten -thousand pounds, including the late legacies, was all that remained -for his widow and daughters. - -His son was sent for as soon as his danger was known, and to him Mr. -Dashwood recommended, with all the strength and urgency which illness -could command, the interest of his mother-in-law and sisters. - -Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the rest of the -family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at -such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make -them comfortable. His father was rendered easy by such an assurance, -and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how much there -might prudently be in his power to do for them. - -[Illustration: _His son's son, a child of four years old._] - -He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold hearted -and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well -respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of -his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, he might -have been made still more respectable than he was: he might even have -been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and -very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature -of himself; more narrow-minded and selfish. - -When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to -increase the fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand -pounds a-piece. He then really thought himself equal to it. The -prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, -besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, warmed his -heart, and made him feel capable of generosity. "Yes, he would give -them three thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would -be enough to make them completely easy. Three thousand pounds! he -could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience." He -thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did -not repent. - -No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood, -without sending any notice of her intention to her mother-in-law, -arrived with her child and their attendants. No one could dispute her -right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his -father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the -greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only common -feelings, must have been highly unpleasing. But in _her_ mind there -was a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any -offence of the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a -source of immovable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a -favourite with any of her husband's family; but she had had no -opportunity, till the present, of showing them with how little -attention to the comfort of other people she could act when occasion -required it. - -So acutely did Mrs. Dashwood feel this ungracious behaviour, and so -earnestly did she despise her daughter-in-law for it, that, on the -arrival of the latter, she would have quitted the house for ever, had -not the entreaty of her eldest girl induced her first to reflect on -the propriety of going, and her own tender love for all her three -children determined her afterwards to stay, and for their sakes avoid -a breach with their brother. - -Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed -a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified -her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and -enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, -that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led -to imprudence. She had an excellent heart; her disposition was -affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern -them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which -one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught. - -Marianne's abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor's. -She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her -joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable, -interesting: she was everything but prudent. The resemblance between -her and her mother was strikingly great. - -Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but -by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued and cherished. They encouraged each -other now in the violence of their affliction. The agony of grief -which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought -for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to -their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection -that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation -in future. Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could -struggle, she could exert herself. She could consult with her brother, -could receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with -proper attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar -exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance. - -Margaret, the other sister, was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; -but as she had already imbibed a good deal of Marianne's romance, -without having much of her sense, she did not, at thirteen, bid fair -to equal her sisters at a more advanced period of life. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -Mrs. John Dashwood now installed herself mistress of Norland; and her -mother and sisters-in-law were degraded to the condition of visitors. -As such, however, they were treated by her with quiet civility; and by -her husband with as much kindness as he could feel towards anybody -beyond himself, his wife, and their child. He really pressed them, -with some earnestness, to consider Norland as their home; and, as no -plan appeared so eligible to Mrs. Dashwood as remaining there till she -could accommodate herself with a house in the neighbourhood, his -invitation was accepted. - -A continuance in a place where everything reminded her of former -delight, was exactly what suited her mind. In seasons of cheerfulness, -no temper could be more cheerful than hers, or possess, in a greater -degree, that sanguine expectation of happiness which is happiness -itself. But in sorrow she must be equally carried away by her fancy, -and as far beyond consolation as in pleasure she was beyond alloy. - -Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her husband intended -to do for his sisters. To take three thousand pounds from the fortune -of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him to the most -dreadful degree. She begged him to think again on the subject. How -could he answer it to himself to rob his child, and his only child -too, of so large a sum? And what possible claim could the Miss -Dashwoods, who were related to him only by half blood, which she -considered as no relationship at all, have on his generosity to so -large an amount. It was very well known that no affection was ever -supposed to exist between the children of any man by different -marriages; and why was he to ruin himself, and their poor little -Harry, by giving away all his money to his half sisters? - -"It was my father's last request to me," replied her husband, "that I -should assist his widow and daughters." - -"He did not know what he was talking of, I dare say; ten to one but he -was light-headed at the time. Had he been in his right senses, he -could not have thought of such a thing as begging you to give away -half your fortune from your own child." - -"He did not stipulate for any particular sum, my dear Fanny; he only -requested me, in general terms, to assist them, and make their -situation more comfortable than it was in his power to do. Perhaps it -would have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself. He could -hardly suppose I should neglect them. But as he required the promise, -I could not do less than give it; at least I thought so at the time. -The promise, therefore, was given, and must be performed. Something -must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and settle in a new -home." - -"Well, then, _let_ something be done for them; but _that_ something -need not be three thousand pounds. Consider," she added, "that when -the money is once parted with, it never can return. Your sisters will -marry, and it will be gone for ever. If, indeed, it could be restored -to our poor little boy--" - -"Why, to be sure," said her husband, very gravely, "that would make -great difference. The time may come when Harry will regret that so -large a sum was parted with. If he should have a numerous family, for -instance, it would be a very convenient addition." - -"To be sure it would." - -"Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, if the sum were -diminished one half. Five hundred pounds would be a prodigious -increase to their fortunes!" - -"Oh! beyond anything great! What brother on earth would do half so -much for his sisters, even if _really_ his sisters! And as it is--only -half blood! But you have such a generous spirit!" - -"I would not wish to do any thing mean," he replied. "One had rather, -on such occasions, do too much than too little. No one, at least, can -think I have not done enough for them: even themselves, they can -hardly expect more." - -"There is no knowing what _they_ may expect," said the lady, "but we -are not to think of their expectations: the question is, what you can -afford to do." - -"Certainly; and I think I may afford to give them five hundred pounds -a-piece. As it is, without any addition of mine, they will each have -about three thousand pounds on their mother's death--a very -comfortable fortune for any young woman." - -"To be sure it is; and, indeed, it strikes me that they can want no -addition at all. They will have ten thousand pounds divided amongst -them. If they marry, they will be sure of doing well, and if they do -not, they may all live very comfortably together on the interest of -ten thousand pounds." - -"That is very true, and, therefore, I do not know whether, upon the -whole, it would not be more advisable to do something for their mother -while she lives, rather than for them--something of the annuity kind I -mean. My sisters would feel the good effects of it as well as herself. -A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable." - -His wife hesitated a little, however, in giving her consent to this -plan. - -"To be sure," said she, "it is better than parting with fifteen -hundred pounds at once. But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood should live -fifteen years we shall be completely taken in." - -"Fifteen years! my dear Fanny; her life cannot be worth half that -purchase." - -"Certainly not; but if you observe, people always live for ever when -there is an annuity to be paid them; and she is very stout and -healthy, and hardly forty. An annuity is a very serious business; it -comes over and over every year, and there is no getting rid of it. You -are not aware of what you are doing. I have known a great deal of the -trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of -three to old superannuated servants by my father's will, and it is -amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these -annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting -it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards -it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her -income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; -and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money -would have been entirely at my mother's disposal, without any -restriction whatever. It has given me such an abhorrence of annuities, -that I am sure I would not pin myself down to the payment of one for -all the world." - -"It is certainly an unpleasant thing," replied Mr. Dashwood, "to have -those kind of yearly drains on one's income. One's fortune, as your -mother justly says, is _not_ one's own. To be tied down to the regular -payment of such a sum, on every rent day, is by no means desirable: it -takes away one's independence." - -"Undoubtedly; and after all you have no thanks for it. They think -themselves secure, you do no more than what is expected, and it raises -no gratitude at all. If I were you, whatever I did should be done at -my own discretion entirely. I would not bind myself to allow them any -thing yearly. It may be very inconvenient some years to spare a -hundred, or even fifty pounds from our own expenses." - -"I believe you are right, my love; it will be better that there should -be no annuity in the case; whatever I may give them occasionally will -be of far greater assistance than a yearly allowance, because they -would only enlarge their style of living if they felt sure of a larger -income, and would not be sixpence the richer for it at the end of the -year. It will certainly be much the best way. A present of fifty -pounds, now and then, will prevent their ever being distressed for -money, and will, I think, be amply discharging my promise to my -father." - -"To be sure it will. Indeed, to say the truth, I am convinced within -myself that your father had no idea of your giving them any money at -all. The assistance he thought of, I dare say, was only such as might -be reasonably expected of you; for instance, such as looking out for a -comfortable small house for them, helping them to move their things, -and sending them presents of fish and game, and so forth, whenever -they are in season. I'll lay my life that he meant nothing farther; -indeed, it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did. Do but -consider, my dear Mr. Dashwood, how excessively comfortable your -mother-in-law and her daughters may live on the interest of seven -thousand pounds, besides the thousand pounds belonging to each of the -girls, which brings them in fifty pounds a year a-piece, and, of -course, they will pay their mother for their board out of it. -Altogether, they will have five hundred a-year amongst them, and what -on earth can four women want for more than that?--They will live so -cheap! Their housekeeping will be nothing at all. They will have no -carriage, no horses, and hardly any servants; they will keep no -company, and can have no expenses of any kind! Only conceive how -comfortable they will be! Five hundred a year! I am sure I cannot -imagine how they will spend half of it; and as to your giving them -more, it is quite absurd to think of it. They will be much more able -to give _you_ something." - -"Upon my word," said Mr. Dashwood, "I believe you are perfectly right. -My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than -what you say. I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil -my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness to them as you -have described. When my mother removes into another house my services -shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can. Some little -present of furniture too may be acceptable then." - -"Certainly," returned Mrs. John Dashwood. "But, however, _one_ thing -must be considered. When your father and mother moved to Norland, -though the furniture of Stanhill was sold, all the china, plate, and -linen was saved, and is now left to your mother. Her house will -therefore be almost completely fitted up as soon as she takes it." - -"That is a material consideration undoubtedly. A valuable legacy -indeed! And yet some of the plate would have been a very pleasant -addition to our own stock here." - -"Yes; and the set of breakfast china is twice as handsome as what -belongs to this house. A great deal too handsome, in my opinion, for -any place _they_ can ever afford to live in. But, however, so it is. -Your father thought only of _them_ And I must say this: that you owe -no particular gratitude to him, nor attention to his wishes; for we -very well know that if he could, he would have left almost everything -in the world to _them._" - -This argument was irresistible. It gave to his intentions whatever of -decision was wanting before; and he finally resolved, that it would be -absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous, to do more for the -widow and children of his father, than such kind of neighbourly acts -as his own wife pointed out. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Mrs. Dashwood remained at Norland several months; not from any -disinclination to move when the sight of every well known spot ceased -to raise the violent emotion which it produced for a while; for when -her spirits began to revive, and her mind became capable of some other -exertion than that of heightening its affliction by melancholy -remembrances, she was impatient to be gone, and indefatigable in her -inquiries for a suitable dwelling in the neighbourhood of Norland; for -to remove far from that beloved spot was impossible. But she could -hear of no situation that at once answered her notions of comfort and -ease, and suited the prudence of her eldest daughter, whose steadier -judgment rejected several houses as too large for their income, which -her mother would have approved. - -[Illustration: "_I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it._"] - -Mrs. Dashwood had been informed by her husband of the solemn promise -on the part of his son in their favour, which gave comfort to his last -earthly reflections. She doubted the sincerity of this assurance no -more than he had doubted it himself, and she thought of it for her -daughters' sake with satisfaction, though as for herself she was -persuaded that a much smaller provision than 7000L would support her -in affluence. For their brother's sake, too, for the sake of his own -heart, she rejoiced; and she reproached herself for being unjust to -his merit before, in believing him incapable of generosity. His -attentive behaviour to herself and his sisters convinced her that -their welfare was dear to him, and, for a long time, she firmly relied -on the liberality of his intentions. - -The contempt which she had, very early in their acquaintance, felt for -her daughter-in-law, was very much increased by the farther knowledge -of her character, which half a year's residence in her family -afforded; and perhaps in spite of every consideration of politeness or -maternal affection on the side of the former, the two ladies might -have found it impossible to have lived together so long, had not a -particular circumstance occurred to give still greater eligibility, -according to the opinions of Mrs. Dashwood, to her daughters' -continuance at Norland. - -This circumstance was a growing attachment between her eldest girl and -the brother of Mrs. John Dashwood, a gentlemanlike and pleasing young -man, who was introduced to their acquaintance soon after his sister's -establishment at Norland, and who had since spent the greatest part of -his time there. - -Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of -interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died -very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence, -for, except a trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the -will of his mother. But Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either -consideration. It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable, -that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor returned the partiality. -It was contrary to every doctrine of her's that difference of fortune -should keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of -disposition; and that Elinor's merit should not be acknowledged by -every one who knew her, was to her comprehension impossible. - -Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good opinion by any -peculiar graces of person or address. He was not handsome, and his -manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. He was too diffident -to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome, -his behaviour gave every indication of an open, affectionate heart. -His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid -improvement. But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to -answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who longed to see him -distinguished as--they hardly knew what. They wanted him to make a -fine figure in the world in some manner or other. His mother wished to -interest him in political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to -see him connected with some of the great men of the day. Mrs. John -Dashwood wished it likewise; but in the mean while, till one of these -superior blessings could be attained, it would have quieted her -ambition to see him driving a barouche. But Edward had no turn for -great men or barouches. All his wishes centered in domestic comfort -and the quiet of private life. Fortunately he had a younger brother -who was more promising. - -Edward had been staying several weeks in the house before he engaged -much of Mrs. Dashwood's attention; for she was, at that time, in such -affliction as rendered her careless of surrounding objects. She saw -only that he was quiet and unobtrusive, and she liked him for it. He -did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed -conversation. She was first called to observe and approve him farther, -by a reflection which Elinor chanced one day to make on the -difference between him and his sister. It was a contrast which -recommended him most forcibly to her mother. - -"It is enough," said she; "to say that he is unlike Fanny is enough. -It implies everything amiable. I love him already." - -"I think you will like him," said Elinor, "when you know more of him." - -"Like him!" replied her mother with a smile. "I feel no sentiment of -approbation inferior to love." - -"You may esteem him." - -"I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love." - -Mrs. Dashwood now took pains to get acquainted with him. Her manners -were attaching, and soon banished his reserve. She speedily -comprehended all his merits; the persuasion of his regard for Elinor -perhaps assisted her penetration; but she really felt assured of his -worth: and even that quietness of manner, which militated against all -her established ideas of what a young man's address ought to be, was -no longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm and his -temper affectionate. - -No sooner did she perceive any symptom of love in his behaviour to -Elinor, than she considered their serious attachment as certain, and -looked forward to their marriage as rapidly approaching. - -"In a few months, my dear Marianne," said she, "Elinor will, in all -probability be settled for life. We shall miss her; but _she_ will be -happy." - -"Oh! Mamma, how shall we do without her?" - -"My love, it will be scarcely a separation. We shall live within a few -miles of each other, and shall meet every day of our lives. You will -gain a brother--a real, affectionate brother. I have the highest -opinion in the world of Edward's heart. But you look grave, Marianne; -do you disapprove your sister's choice?" - -"Perhaps," said Marianne, "I may consider it with some surprise. -Edward is very amiable, and I love him tenderly. But yet--he is not -the kind of young man; there is something wanting--his figure is not -striking; it has none of that grace which I should expect in the man -who could seriously attach my sister. His eyes want all that spirit, -that fire, which at once announce virtue and intelligence. And besides -all this, I am afraid, Mamma, he has no real taste. Music seems -scarcely to attract him, and though he admires Elinor's drawings very -much, it is not the admiration of a person who can understand their -worth. It is evident, in spite of his frequent attention to her while -she draws, that in fact he knows nothing of the matter. He admires as -a lover, not as a connoisseur. To satisfy me, those characters must be -united. I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every -point coincide with my own. He must enter into all my feelings; the -same books, the same music must charm us both. Oh! mama, how -spiritless, how tame was Edward's manner in reading to us last night! -I felt for my sister most severely. Yet she bore it with so much -composure, she seemed scarcely to notice it. I could hardly keep my -seat. To hear those beautiful lines which have frequently almost -driven me wild, pronounced with such impenetrable calmness, such -dreadful indifference!" - -"He would certainly have done more justice to simple and elegant -prose. I thought so at the time; but you _would_ give him Cowper." - -"Nay, Mamma, if he is not to be animated by Cowper!--but we must allow -for difference of taste. Elinor has not my feelings, and therefore she -may overlook it, and be happy with him. But it would have broke _my_ -heart, had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility. -Mama, the more I know of the world, the more am I convinced that I -shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much! He -must have all Edward's virtues, and his person and manners must -ornament his goodness with every possible charm." - -"Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen. It is yet too early in -life to despair of such a happiness. Why should you be less fortunate -than your mother? In one circumstance only, my Marianne, may your -destiny be different from her's!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -"What a pity it is, Elinor," said Marianne, "that Edward should have -no taste for drawing." - -"No taste for drawing!" replied Elinor, "why should you think so? He -does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the -performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means -deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of -improving it. Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he -would have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such -matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on -any picture; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste, -which in general direct him perfectly right." - -Marianne was afraid of offending, and said no more on the subject; but -the kind of approbation which Elinor described as excited in him by -the drawings of other people, was very far from that rapturous -delight, which, in her opinion, could alone be called taste. Yet, -though smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured her sister -for that blind partiality to Edward which produced it. - -"I hope, Marianne," continued Elinor, "you do not consider him as -deficient in general taste. Indeed, I think I may say that you cannot, -for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial, and if _that_ were -your opinion, I am sure you could never be civil to him." - -Marianne hardly knew what to say. She would not wound the feelings of -her sister on any account, and yet to say what she did not believe was -impossible. At length she replied: - -"Do not be offended, Elinor, if my praise of him is not in every thing -equal to your sense of his merits. I have not had so many -opportunities of estimating the minuter propensities of his mind, his -inclinations and tastes, as you have; but I have the highest opinion -in the world of his goodness and sense. I think him every thing that -is worthy and amiable." - -"I am sure," replied Elinor, with a smile, "that his dearest friends -could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that. I do not -perceive how you could express yourself more warmly." - -Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased. - -"Of his sense and his goodness," continued Elinor, "no one can, I -think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in -unreserved conversation. The excellence of his understanding and his -principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps -him silent. You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth. -But of his minuter propensities, as you call them you have from -peculiar circumstances been kept more ignorant than myself. He and I -have been at times thrown a good deal together, while you have been -wholly engrossed on the most affectionate principle by my mother. I -have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard -his opinion on subjects of literature and taste; and, upon the whole, -I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of -books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation just -and correct, and his taste delicate and pure. His abilities in every -respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person. -At first sight, his address is certainly not striking; and his person -can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which -are uncommonly good, and the general sweetness of his countenance, is -perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really -handsome; or at least, almost so. What say you, Marianne?" - -"I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor, if I do not now. When -you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection -in his face, than I now do in his heart." - -Elinor started at this declaration, and was sorry for the warmth she -had been betrayed into, in speaking of him. She felt that Edward stood -very high in her opinion. She believed the regard to be mutual; but -she required greater certainty of it to make Marianne's conviction of -their attachment agreeable to her. She knew that what Marianne and her -mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next--that with them, -to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect. She tried to explain -the real state of the case to her sister. - -"I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think very highly of -him--that I greatly esteem, that I like him." - -Marianne here burst forth with indignation-- - -"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than -cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I -will leave the room this moment." - -Elinor could not help laughing. "Excuse me," said she; "and be assured -that I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my -own feelings. Believe them to be stronger than I have declared; -believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the -suspicion--the hope--of his affection for me may warrant, without -imprudence or folly. But farther than this you must not believe. I am -by no means assured of his regard for me. There are moments when the -extent of it seems doubtful; and till his sentiments are fully known, -you cannot wonder at my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own -partiality, by believing or calling it more than it is. In my heart I -feel little--scarcely any doubt of his preference. But there are other -points to be considered besides his inclination. He is very far from -being independent. What his mother really is we cannot know; but, from -Fanny's occasional mention of her conduct and opinions, we have never -been disposed to think her amiable; and I am very much mistaken if -Edward is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in -his way, if he were to wish to marry a woman who had not either a -great fortune or high rank." - -Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother -and herself had outstripped the truth. - -"And you really are not engaged to him!" said she. "Yet it certainly -soon will happen. But two advantages will proceed from this delay. I -shall not lose you so soon, and Edward will have greater opportunity -of improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must -be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. Oh! if he -should be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to draw -himself, how delightful it would be!" - -Elinor had given her real opinion to her sister. She could not -consider her partiality for Edward in so prosperous a state as -Marianne had believed it. There was, at times, a want of spirits about -him which, if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something -almost as unpromising. A doubt of her regard, supposing him to feel -it, need not give him more than inquietude. It would not be likely to -produce that dejection of mind which frequently attended him. A more -reasonable cause might be found in the dependent situation which -forbade the indulgence of his affection. She knew that his mother -neither behaved to him so as to make his home comfortable at present, -nor to give him any assurance that he might form a home for himself, -without strictly attending to her views for his aggrandizement. With -such a knowledge as this, it was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on -the subject. She was far from depending on that result of his -preference of her, which her mother and sister still considered as -certain. Nay, the longer they were together the more doubtful seemed -the nature of his regard; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, -she believed it to be no more than friendship. - -But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, when -perceived by his sister, to make her uneasy, and at the same time, -(which was still more common,) to make her uncivil. She took the first -opportunity of affronting her mother-in-law on the occasion, talking -to her so expressively of her brother's great expectations, of Mrs. -Ferrars's resolution that both her sons should marry well, and of the -danger attending any young woman who attempted to _draw him in_, that -Mrs. Dashwood could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to -be calm. She gave her an answer which marked her contempt, and -instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might be the -inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, her beloved Elinor -should not be exposed another week to such insinuations. - -In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered to her from the -post, which contained a proposal particularly well timed. It was the -offer of a small house, on very easy terms, belonging to a relation of -her own, a gentleman of consequence and property in Devonshire. The -letter was from this gentleman himself, and written in the true spirit -of friendly accommodation. He understood that she was in need of a -dwelling; and though the house he now offered her was merely a -cottage, he assured her that everything should be done to it which she -might think necessary, if the situation pleased her. He earnestly -pressed her, after giving the particulars of the house and garden, to -come with her daughters to Barton Park, the place of his own -residence, from whence she might judge, herself, whether Barton -Cottage, for the houses were in the same parish, could, by any -alteration, be made comfortable to her. He seemed really anxious to -accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written in so -friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure to his cousin; -more especially at a moment when she was suffering under the cold and -unfeeling behaviour of her nearer connections. She needed no time for -deliberation or inquiry. Her resolution was formed as she read. The -situation of Barton, in a county so far distant from Sussex as -Devonshire, which, but a few hours before, would have been a -sufficient objection to outweigh every possible advantage belonging to -the place, was now its first recommendation. To quit the neighbourhood -of Norland was no longer an evil; it was an object of desire; it was a -blessing, in comparison of the misery of continuing her -daughter-in-law's guest; and to remove for ever from that beloved -place would be less painful than to inhabit or visit it while such a -woman was its mistress. She instantly wrote Sir John Middleton her -acknowledgment of his kindness, and her acceptance of his proposal; -and then hastened to show both letters to her daughters, that she -might be secure of their approbation before her answer were sent. - -Elinor had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle -at some distance from Norland, than immediately amongst their present -acquaintance. On _that_ head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose -her mother's intention of removing into Devonshire. The house, too, as -described by Sir John, was on so simple a scale, and the rent so -uncommonly moderate, as to leave her no right of objection on either -point; and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought any -charm to her fancy, though it was a removal from the vicinity of -Norland beyond her wishes, she made no attempt to dissuade her mother -from sending a letter of acquiescence. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -No sooner was her answer dispatched, than Mrs. Dashwood indulged -herself in the pleasure of announcing to her son-in-law and his wife -that she was provided with a house, and should incommode them no -longer than till every thing were ready for her inhabiting it. They -heard her with surprise. Mrs. John Dashwood said nothing; but her -husband civilly hoped that she would not be settled far from Norland. -She had great satisfaction in replying that she was going into -Devonshire. Edward turned hastily towards her, on hearing this, and, -in a voice of surprise and concern, which required no explanation to -her, repeated, "Devonshire! Are you, indeed, going there? So far from -hence! And to what part of it?" She explained the situation. It was -within four miles northward of Exeter. - -"It is but a cottage," she continued, "but I hope to see many of my -friends in it. A room or two can easily be added; and if my friends -find no difficulty in travelling so far to see me, I am sure I will -find none in accommodating them." - -She concluded with a very kind invitation to Mr. and Mrs. John -Dashwood to visit her at Barton; and to Edward she gave one with still -greater affection. Though her late conversation with her -daughter-in-law had made her resolve on remaining at Norland no longer -than was unavoidable, it had not produced the smallest effect on her -in that point to which it principally tended. To separate Edward and -Elinor was as far from being her object as ever; and she wished to -show Mrs. John Dashwood, by this pointed invitation to her brother, -how totally she disregarded her disapprobation of the match. - -Mr. John Dashwood told his mother again and again how exceedingly -sorry he was that she had taken a house at such a distance from -Norland as to prevent his being of any service to her in removing her -furniture. He really felt conscientiously vexed on the occasion; for -the very exertion to which he had limited the performance of his -promise to his father was by this arrangement rendered impracticable. -The furniture was all sent around by water. It chiefly consisted of -household linen, plate, china, and books, with a handsome pianoforte -of Marianne's. Mrs. John Dashwood saw the packages depart with a sigh: -she could not help feeling it hard that as Mrs. Dashwood's income -would be so trifling in comparison with their own, she should have any -handsome article of furniture. - -Mrs. Dashwood took the house for a twelvemonth; it was ready -furnished, and she might have immediate possession. No difficulty -arose on either side in the agreement; and she waited only for the -disposal of her effects at Norland, and to determine her future -household, before she set off for the west; and this, as she was -exceedingly rapid in the performance of everything that interested -her, was soon done. The horses which were left her by her husband had -been sold soon after his death, and an opportunity now offering of -disposing of her carriage, she agreed to sell that likewise at the -earnest advice of her eldest daughter. For the comfort of her -children, had she consulted only her own wishes, she would have kept -it; but the discretion of Elinor prevailed. _Her_ wisdom too limited -the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom -they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their -establishment at Norland. - -The man and one of the maids were sent off immediately into -Devonshire, to prepare the house for their mistress's arrival; for as -Lady Middleton was entirely unknown to Mrs. Dashwood, she preferred -going directly to the cottage to being a visitor at Barton Park; and -she relied so undoubtingly on Sir John's description of the house, as -to feel no curiosity to examine it herself till she entered it as her -own. Her eagerness to be gone from Norland was preserved from -diminution by the evident satisfaction of her daughter-in-law in the -prospect of her removal; a satisfaction which was but feebly attempted -to be concealed under a cold invitation to her to defer her departure. -Now was the time when her son-in-law's promise to his father might -with particular propriety be fulfilled. Since he had neglected to do -it on first coming to the estate, their quitting his house might be -looked on as the most suitable period for its accomplishment. But Mrs. -Dashwood began shortly to give over every hope of the kind, and to be -convinced, from the general drift of his discourse, that his -assistance extended no farther than their maintenance for six months -at Norland. He so frequently talked of the increasing expenses of -housekeeping, and of the perpetual demands upon his purse, which a man -of any consequence in the world was beyond calculation exposed to, -that he seemed rather to stand in need of more money himself than to -have any design of giving money away. - -In a very few weeks from the day which brought Sir John Middleton's -first letter to Norland, every thing was so far settled in their -future abode as to enable Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters to begin -their journey. - -Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so -much beloved. "Dear, dear Norland!" said Marianne, as she wandered -alone before the house, on the last evening of their being there; -"when shall I cease to regret you!--when learn to feel a home -elsewhere! Oh! happy house, could you know what I suffer in now -viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no -more! And you, ye well-known trees!--but you will continue the same. -No leaf will decay because we are removed, nor any branch become -motionless although we can observe you no longer! No; you will -continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you -occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your -shade! But who will remain to enjoy you?" - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -The first part of their journey was performed in too melancholy a -disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant. But as they -drew towards the end of it, their interest in the appearance of a -country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection, and a -view of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. It -was a pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich in pasture. After -winding along it for more than a mile, they reached their own house. A -small green court was the whole of its demesne in front; and a neat -wicket gate admitted them into it. - -As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact; -but as a cottage it was defective, for the building was regular, the -roof was tiled, the window shutters were not painted green, nor were -the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly -through the house into the garden behind. On each side of the entrance -was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square; and beyond them were -the offices and the stairs. Four bedrooms and two garrets formed the -rest of the house. It had not been built many years and was in good -repair. In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeed!--but -the tears which recollection called forth as they entered the house -were soon dried away. They were cheered by the joy of the servants on -their arrival, and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear -happy. It was very early in September; the season was fine, and from -first seeing the place under the advantage of good weather, they -received an impression in its favour which was of material service in -recommending it to their lasting approbation. - -The situation of the house was good. High hills rose immediately -behind, and at no great distance on each side; some of which were open -downs, the others cultivated and woody. The village of Barton was -chiefly on one of these hills, and formed a pleasant view from the -cottage windows. The prospect in front was more extensive; it -commanded the whole of the valley, and reached into the country -beyond. The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated the valley -in that direction; under another name, and in another course, it -branched out again between two of the steepest of them. - -With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. Dashwood was upon the -whole well satisfied; for though her former style of life rendered -many additions to the latter indispensable, yet to add and improve was -a delight to her; and she had at this time ready money enough to -supply all that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments. "As -for the house itself, to be sure," said she, "it is too small for our -family, but we will make ourselves tolerably comfortable for the -present, as it is too late in the year for improvements. Perhaps in -the spring, if I have plenty of money, as I dare say I shall, we may -think about building. These parlors are both too small for such -parties of our friends as I hope to see often collected here; and I -have some thoughts of throwing the passage into one of them with -perhaps a part of the other, and so leave the remainder of that other -for an entrance; this, with a new drawing room which may be easily -added, and a bed-chamber and garret above, will make it a very snug -little cottage. I could wish the stairs were handsome. But one must -not expect every thing; though I suppose it would be no difficult -matter to widen them. I shall see how much I am before-hand with the -world in the spring, and we will plan our improvements accordingly." - -In the mean time, till all these alterations could be made from the -savings of an income of five hundred a-year by a woman who never -saved in her life, they were wise enough to be contented with the -house as it was; and each of them was busy in arranging their -particular concerns, and endeavoring, by placing around them books and -other possessions, to form themselves a home. Marianne's pianoforte -was unpacked and properly disposed of; and Elinor's drawings were -affixed to the walls of their sitting room. - -In such employments as these they were interrupted soon after -breakfast the next day by the entrance of their landlord, who called -to welcome them to Barton, and to offer them every accommodation from -his own house and garden in which theirs might at present be -deficient. Sir John Middleton was a good looking man about forty. He -had formerly visited at Stanhill, but it was too long for his young -cousins to remember him. His countenance was thoroughly good-humoured; -and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter. Their -arrival seemed to afford him real satisfaction, and their comfort to -be an object of real solicitude to him. He said much of his earnest -desire of their living in the most sociable terms with his family, and -pressed them so cordially to dine at Barton Park every day till they -were better settled at home, that, though his entreaties were carried -to a point of perseverance beyond civility, they could not give -offence. His kindness was not confined to words; for within an hour -after he left them, a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit -arrived from the park, which was followed before the end of the day by -a present of game. He insisted, moreover, on conveying all their -letters to and from the post for them, and would not be denied the -satisfaction of sending them his newspaper every day. - -Lady Middleton had sent a very civil message by him, denoting her -intention of waiting on Mrs. Dashwood as soon as she could be assured -that her visit would be no inconvenience; and as this message was -answered by an invitation equally polite, her ladyship was introduced -to them the next day. - -[Illustration: _So shy before company._] - -They were, of course, very anxious to see a person on whom so much of -their comfort at Barton must depend; and the elegance of her -appearance was favourable to their wishes. Lady Middleton was not more -than six or seven and twenty; her face was handsome, her figure tall -and striking, and her address graceful. Her manners had all the -elegance which her husband's wanted. But they would have been improved -by some share of his frankness and warmth; and her visit was long -enough to detract something from their first admiration, by showing -that, though perfectly well-bred, she was reserved, cold, and had -nothing to say for herself beyond the most common-place inquiry or -remark. - -Conversation however was not wanted, for Sir John was very chatty, and -Lady Middleton had taken the wise precaution of bringing with her -their eldest child, a fine little boy about six years old, by which -means there was one subject always to be recurred to by the ladies in -case of extremity, for they had to enquire his name and age, admire -his beauty, and ask him questions which his mother answered for him, -while he hung about her and held down his head, to the great surprise -of her ladyship, who wondered at his being so shy before company, as -he could make noise enough at home. On every formal visit a child -ought to be of the party, by way of provision for discourse. In the -present case it took up ten minutes to determine whether the boy were -most like his father or mother, and in what particular he resembled -either, for of course every body differed, and every body was -astonished at the opinion of the others. - -An opportunity was soon to be given to the Dashwoods of debating on -the rest of the children, as Sir John would not leave the house -without securing their promise of dining at the park the next day. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. The ladies had -passed near it in their way along the valley, but it was screened from -their view at home by the projection of a hill. The house was large -and handsome; and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality -and elegance. The former was for Sir John's gratification, the latter -for that of his lady. They were scarcely ever without some friends -staying with them in the house, and they kept more company of every -kind than any other family in the neighbourhood. It was necessary to -the happiness of both; for however dissimilar in temper and outward -behaviour, they strongly resembled each other in that total want of -talent and taste which confined their employments, unconnected with -such as society produced, within a very narrow compass. Sir John was a -sportsman, Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she -humoured her children; and these were their only resources. Lady -Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all -the year round, while Sir John's independent employments were in -existence only half the time. Continual engagements at home and -abroad, however, supplied all the deficiencies of nature and -education; supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise -to the good breeding of his wife. - -Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance of her table, and of -all her domestic arrangements; and from this kind of vanity was her -greatest enjoyment in any of their parties. But Sir John's -satisfaction in society was much more real; he delighted in collecting -about him more young people than his house would hold, and the noisier -they were the better was he pleased. He was a blessing to all the -juvenile part of the neighbourhood, for in summer he was for ever -forming parties to eat cold ham and chicken out of doors, and in -winter his private balls were numerous enough for any young lady who -was not suffering under the insatiable appetite of fifteen. - -The arrival of a new family in the country was always a matter of joy -to him, and in every point of view he was charmed with the inhabitants -he had now procured for his cottage at Barton. The Miss Dashwoods were -young, pretty, and unaffected. It was enough to secure his good -opinion; for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could want to -make her mind as captivating as her person. The friendliness of his -disposition made him happy in accommodating those, whose situation -might be considered, in comparison with the past, as unfortunate. In -showing kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction -of a good heart; and in settling a family of females only in his -cottage, he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman; for a sportsman, -though he esteems only those of his sex who are sportsmen likewise, is -not often desirous of encouraging their taste by admitting them to a -residence within his own manor. - -Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door of the house by -Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton Park with unaffected sincerity; -and as he attended them to the drawing room repeated to the young -ladies the concern which the same subject had drawn from him the day -before, at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them. They -would see, he said, only one gentleman there besides himself; a -particular friend who was staying at the park, but who was neither -very young nor very gay. He hoped they would all excuse the smallness -of the party, and could assure them it should never happen so again. -He had been to several families that morning in hopes of procuring -some addition to their number, but it was moonlight and every body was -full of engagements. Luckily Lady Middleton's mother had arrived at -Barton within the last hour, and as she was a very cheerful agreeable -woman, he hoped the young ladies would not find it so very dull as -they might imagine. The young ladies, as well as their mother, were -perfectly satisfied with having two entire strangers of the party, and -wished for no more. - -Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's mother, was a good-humoured, merry, -fat, elderly woman, who talked a great deal, seemed very happy, and -rather vulgar. She was full of jokes and laughter, and before dinner -was over had said many witty things on the subject of lovers and -husbands; hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex, -and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not. Marianne was -vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned her eyes towards Elinor -to see how she bore these attacks, with an earnestness which gave -Elinor far more pain than could arise from such common-place raillery -as Mrs. Jennings's. - -Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no more adapted by -resemblance of manner to be his friend, than Lady Middleton was to be -his wife, or Mrs. Jennings to be Lady Middleton's mother. He was -silent and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite -of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old -bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty; but though -his face was not handsome, his countenance was sensible, and his -address was particularly gentlemanlike. - -There was nothing in any of the party which could recommend them as -companions to the Dashwoods; but the cold insipidity of Lady Middleton -was so particularly repulsive, that in comparison of it the gravity -of Colonel Brandon, and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his -mother-in-law was interesting. Lady Middleton seemed to be roused to -enjoyment only by the entrance of her four noisy children after -dinner, who pulled her about, tore her clothes, and put an end to -every kind of discourse except what related to themselves. - -In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, she was -invited to play. The instrument was unlocked, every body prepared to -be charmed, and Marianne, who sang very well, at their request went -through the chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into -the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had lain ever since in -the same position on the pianoforte, for her ladyship had celebrated -that event by giving up music, although by her mother's account, she -had played extremely well, and by her own was very fond of it. - -Marianne's performance was highly applauded. Sir John was loud in his -admiration at the end of every song, and as loud in his conversation -with the others while every song lasted. Lady Middleton frequently -called him to order, wondered how any one's attention could be -diverted from music for a moment, and asked Marianne to sing a -particular song which Marianne had just finished. Colonel Brandon -alone, of all the party, heard her without being in raptures. He paid -her only the compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him -on the occasion, which the others had reasonably forfeited by their -shameless want of taste. His pleasure in music, though it amounted not -to that ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, -was estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of -the others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five -and thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and every -exquisite power of enjoyment. She was perfectly disposed to make every -allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life which humanity -required. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Mrs. Jennings was a widow with an ample jointure. She had only two -daughters, both of whom she had lived to see respectably married, and -she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the -world. In the promotion of this object she was zealously active, as -far as her ability reached; and missed no opportunity of projecting -weddings among all the young people of her acquaintance. She was -remarkably quick in the discovery of attachments, and had enjoyed the -advantage of raising the blushes and the vanity of many a young lady -by insinuations of her power over such a young man; and this kind of -discernment enabled her soon after her arrival at Barton decisively to -pronounce that Colonel Brandon was very much in love with Marianne -Dashwood. She rather suspected it to be so, on the very first evening -of their being together, from his listening so attentively while she -sang to them; and when the visit was returned by the Middletons' -dining at the cottage, the fact was ascertained by his listening to -her again. It must be so. She was perfectly convinced of it. It would -be an excellent match, for _he_ was rich, and _she_ was handsome. Mrs. -Jennings had been anxious to see Colonel Brandon well married, ever -since her connection with Sir John first brought him to her knowledge; -and she was always anxious to get a good husband for every pretty -girl. - -The immediate advantage to herself was by no means inconsiderable, for -it supplied her with endless jokes against them both. At the park she -laughed at the colonel, and in the cottage at Marianne. To the former -her raillery was probably, as far as it regarded only himself, -perfectly indifferent; but to the latter it was at first -incomprehensible; and when its object was understood, she hardly knew -whether most to laugh at its absurdity, or censure its impertinence, -for she considered it as an unfeeling reflection on the colonel's -advanced years, and on his forlorn condition as an old bachelor. - -Mrs. Dashwood, who could not think a man five years younger than -herself, so exceedingly ancient as he appeared to the youthful fancy -of her daughter, ventured to clear Mrs. Jennings from the probability -of wishing to throw ridicule on his age. - -"But at least, Mamma, you cannot deny the absurdity of the accusation, -though you may not think it intentionally ill-natured. Colonel Brandon -is certainly younger than Mrs. Jennings, but he is old enough to be -_my_ father; and if he were ever animated enough to be in love, must -have long outlived every sensation of the kind. It is too ridiculous! -When is a man to be safe from such wit, if age and infirmity will not -protect him?" - -"Infirmity!" said Elinor, "do you call Colonel Brandon infirm? I can -easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my -mother; but you can hardly deceive yourself as to his having the use -of his limbs!" - -"Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism? and is not that the -commonest infirmity of declining life?" - -"My dearest child," said her mother, laughing, "at this rate you must -be in continual terror of _my_ decay; and it must seem to you a -miracle that my life has been extended to the advanced age of forty." - -"Mamma, you are not doing me justice. I know very well that Colonel -Brandon is not old enough to make his friends yet apprehensive of -losing him in the course of nature. He may live twenty years longer. -But thirty-five has nothing to do with matrimony." - -"Perhaps," said Elinor, "thirty-five and seventeen had better not have -any thing to do with matrimony together. But if there should by any -chance happen to be a woman who is single at seven and twenty, I -should not think Colonel Brandon's being thirty-five any objection to -his marrying _her_ ." - -"A woman of seven and twenty," said Marianne, after pausing a moment, -"can never hope to feel or inspire affection again, and if her home be -uncomfortable, or her fortune small, I can suppose that she might -bring herself to submit to the offices of a nurse, for the sake of the -provision and security of a wife. In his marrying such a woman -therefore there would be nothing unsuitable. It would be a compact of -convenience, and the world would be satisfied. In my eyes it would be -no marriage at all, but that would be nothing. To me it would seem -only a commercial exchange, in which each wished to be benefited at -the expense of the other." - -"It would be impossible, I know," replied Elinor, "to convince you -that a woman of seven and twenty could feel for a man of thirty-five -anything near enough to love, to make him a desirable companion to -her. But I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and his wife to -the constant confinement of a sick chamber, merely because he chanced -to complain yesterday (a very cold damp day) of a slight rheumatic -feel in one of his shoulders." - -"But he talked of flannel waistcoats," said Marianne; "and with me a -flannel waistcoat is invariably connected with aches, cramps, -rheumatisms, and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and -the feeble." - -"Had he been only in a violent fever, you would not have despised him -half so much. Confess, Marianne, is not there something interesting to -you in the flushed cheek, hollow eye, and quick pulse of a fever?" - -Soon after this, upon Elinor's leaving the room, "Mamma," said -Marianne, "I have an alarm on the subject of illness which I cannot -conceal from you. I am sure Edward Ferrars is not well. We have now -been here almost a fortnight, and yet he does not come. Nothing but -real indisposition could occasion this extraordinary delay. What else -can detain him at Norland?" - -"Had you any idea of his coming so soon?" said Mrs. Dashwood. "I had -none. On the contrary, if I have felt any anxiety at all on the -subject, it has been in recollecting that he sometimes showed a want -of pleasure and readiness in accepting my invitation, when I talked of -his coming to Barton. Does Elinor expect him already?" - -"I have never mentioned it to her, but of course she must." - -"I rather think you are mistaken, for when I was talking to her -yesterday of getting a new grate for the spare bed-chamber, she -observed that there was no immediate hurry for it, as it was not -likely that the room would be wanted for some time." - -"How strange this is! what can be the meaning of it! But the whole of -their behaviour to each other has been unaccountable! How cold, how -composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the -last evening of their being together! In Edward's farewell there was -no distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an -affectionate brother to both. Twice did I leave them purposely -together in the course of the last morning, and each time did he most -unaccountably follow me out of the room. And Elinor, in quitting -Norland and Edward, cried not as I did. Even now her self-command is -invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to -avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?" - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to -themselves. The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding -them, were now become familiar, and the ordinary pursuits which had -given to Norland half its charms were engaged in again with far -greater enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford, since the loss -of their father. Sir John Middleton, who called on them every day for -the first fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much -occupation at home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them -always employed. - -Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many; for, in -spite of Sir John's urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the -neighbourhood, and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at -their service, the independence of Mrs. Dashwood's spirit overcame the -wish of society for her children; and she was resolute in declining to -visit any family beyond the distance of a walk. There were but few who -could be so classed; and it was not all of them that were attainable. -About a mile and a half from the cottage, along the narrow winding -valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton, as formerly -described, the girls had, in one of their earliest walks, discovered -an ancient respectable looking mansion which, by reminding them a -little of Norland, interested their imagination and made them wish to -be better acquainted with it. But they learnt, on enquiry, that its -possessor, an elderly lady of very good character, was unfortunately -too infirm to mix with the world, and never stirred from home. - -The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks. The high -downs which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to -seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on their summits, were a happy -alternative when the dirt of the valleys beneath shut up their -superior beauties; and towards one of these hills did Marianne and -Margaret one memorable morning direct their steps, attracted by the -partial sunshine of a showery sky, and unable longer to bear the -confinement which the settled rain of the two preceding days had -occasioned. The weather was not tempting enough to draw the two others -from their pencil and their book, in spite of Marianne's declaration -that the day would be lastingly fair, and that every threatening cloud -would be drawn off from their hills; and the two girls set off -together. - -They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own penetration at -every glimpse of blue sky; and when they caught in their faces the -animating gales of a high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears -which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such -delightful sensations. - -"Is there a felicity in the world," said Marianne, "superior to -this?--Margaret, we will walk here at least two hours." - -Margaret agreed, and they pursued their way against the wind, -resisting it with laughing delight for about twenty minutes longer, -when suddenly the clouds united over their heads, and a driving rain -set full in their face. Chagrined and surprised, they were obliged, -though unwillingly, to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their -own house. One consolation however remained for them, to which the -exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety,--it was that of -running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which -led immediately to their garden gate. - -They set off. Marianne had at first the advantage, but a false step -brought her suddenly to the ground; and Margaret, unable to stop -herself to assist her, was involuntarily hurried along, and reached -the bottom in safety. - -A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was -passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne, when her -accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. She -had raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been twisted in -her fall, and she was scarcely able to stand. The gentleman offered -his services; and perceiving that her modesty declined what her -situation rendered necessary, took her up in his arms without farther -delay, and carried her down the hill. Then passing through the garden, -the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he bore her directly -into the house, whither Margaret was just arrived, and quitted not his -hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour. - -Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at their entrance, and -while the eyes of both were fixed on him with an evident wonder and a -secret admiration which equally sprung from his appearance, he -apologized for his intrusion by relating its cause, in a manner so -frank and so graceful that his person, which was uncommonly handsome, -received additional charms from his voice and expression. Had he been -even old, ugly, and vulgar, the gratitude and kindness of Mrs. -Dashwood would have been secured by any act of attention to her child; -but the influence of youth, beauty, and elegance, gave an interest to -the action which came home to her feelings. - -She thanked him again and again; and, with a sweetness of address -which always attended her, invited him to be seated. But this he -declined, as he was dirty and wet. Mrs. Dashwood then begged to know -to whom she was obliged. His name, he replied, was Willoughby, and his -present home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would allow him -the honour of calling tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood. The -honour was readily granted, and he then departed, to make himself -still more interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain. - -His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness were instantly the -theme of general admiration, and the laugh which his gallantry raised -against Marianne received particular spirit from his exterior -attractions. Marianne herself had seen less of his person than the -rest, for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his lifting -her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their -entering the house. But she had seen enough of him to join in all the -admiration of the others, and with an energy which always adorned her -praise. His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn -for the hero of a favourite story; and in his carrying her into the -house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of -thought which particularly recommended the action to her. Every -circumstance belonging to him was interesting. His name was good, his -residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that -of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming. Her -imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, and the pain of a -sprained ankle was disregarded. - -Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval of fair weather -that morning allowed him to get out of doors; and Marianne's accident -being related to him, he was eagerly asked whether he knew any -gentleman of the name of Willoughby at Allenham. - -"Willoughby!" cried Sir John; "what, is _he_ in the country? That is -good news however; I will ride over tomorrow, and ask him to dinner on -Thursday." - -"You know him then," said Mrs. Dashwood. - -"Know him! to be sure I do. Why, he is down here every year." - -"And what sort of a young man is he?" - -"As good a kind of fellow as ever lived, I assure you. A very decent -shot, and there is not a bolder rider in England." - -"And is that all you can say for him?" cried Marianne, indignantly. -"But what are his manners on more intimate acquaintance? What his -pursuits, his talents, and genius?" - -Sir John was rather puzzled. - -"Upon my soul," said he, "I do not know much about him as to all -_that._ But he is a pleasant, good humoured fellow, and has got the -nicest little black bitch of a pointer I ever saw. Was she out with -him today?" - -But Marianne could no more satisfy him as to the colour of Mr. -Willoughby's pointer, than he could describe to her the shades of his -mind. - -"But who is he?" said Elinor. "Where does he come from? Has he a house -at Allenham?" - -On this point Sir John could give more certain intelligence; and he -told them that Mr. Willoughby had no property of his own in the -country; that he resided there only while he was visiting the old lady -at Allenham Court, to whom he was related, and whose possessions he -was to inherit; adding, "Yes, yes, he is very well worth catching I -can tell you, Miss Dashwood; he has a pretty little estate of his own -in Somersetshire besides; and if I were you, I would not give him up -to my younger sister, in spite of all this tumbling down hills. Miss -Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself. Brandon will -be jealous, if she does not take care." - -"I do not believe," said Mrs. Dashwood, with a good humoured smile, -"that Mr. Willoughby will be incommoded by the attempts of either of -_my_ daughters towards what you call _catching him._ It is not an -employment to which they have been brought up. Men are very safe with -us, let them be ever so rich. I am glad to find, however, from what -you say, that he is a respectable young man, and one whose -acquaintance will not be ineligible." - -"He is as good a sort of fellow, I believe, as ever lived," repeated -Sir John. "I remember last Christmas at a little hop at the park, he -danced from eight o'clock till four, without once sitting down." - -"Did he indeed?" cried Marianne with sparkling eyes, "and with -elegance, with spirit?" - -"Yes; and he was up again at eight to ride to covert." - -"That is what I like; that is what a young man ought to be. Whatever -be his pursuits, his eagerness in them should know no moderation, and -leave him no sense of fatigue." - -"Aye, aye, I see how it will be," said Sir John, "I see how it will -be. You will be setting your cap at him now, and never think of poor -Brandon." - -"That is an expression, Sir John," said Marianne, warmly, "which I -particularly dislike. I abhor every common-place phrase by which wit -is intended; and 'setting one's cap at a man,' or 'making a conquest,' -are the most odious of all. Their tendency is gross and illiberal; and -if their construction could ever be deemed clever, time has long ago -destroyed all its ingenuity." - -Sir John did not much understand this reproof; but he laughed as -heartily as if he did, and then replied-- - -"Ay, you will make conquests enough, I dare say, one way or other. -Poor Brandon! he is quite smitten already, and he is very well worth -setting your cap at, I can tell you, in spite of all this tumbling -about and spraining of ankles." - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -Marianne's preserver, as Margaret, with more elegance than precision, -styled Willoughby, called at the cottage early the next morning to -make his personal enquiries. He was received by Mrs. Dashwood with -more than politeness; with a kindness which Sir John's account of him -and her own gratitude prompted; and every thing that passed during the -visit tended to assure him of the sense, elegance, mutual affection, -and domestic comfort of the family to whom accident had now introduced -him. Of their personal charms he had not required a second interview -to be convinced. - -Miss Dashwood had a delicate complexion, regular features, and a -remarkably pretty figure. Marianne was still handsomer. Her form, -though not so correct as her sister's, in having the advantage of -height, was more striking; and her face was so lovely, that when in -the common cant of praise, she was called a beautiful girl, truth was -less violently outraged than usually happens. Her skin was very brown, -but, from its transparency, her complexion was uncommonly brilliant; -her features were all good; her smile was sweet and attractive; and in -her eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, a spirit, an -eagerness, which could hardily be seen without delight. From -Willoughby their expression was at first held back, by the -embarrassment which the remembrance of his assistance created. But -when this passed away, when her spirits became collected, when she saw -that to the perfect good-breeding of the gentleman, he united -frankness and vivacity, and above all, when she heard him declare, -that of music and dancing he was passionately fond, she gave him such -a look of approbation as secured the largest share of his discourse to -herself for the rest of his stay. - -It was only necessary to mention any favourite amusement to engage her -to talk. She could not be silent when such points were introduced, and -she had neither shyness nor reserve in their discussion. They speedily -discovered that their enjoyment of dancing and music was mutual, and -that it arose from a general conformity of judgment in all that -related to either. Encouraged by this to a further examination of his -opinions, she proceeded to question him on the subject of books; her -favourite authors were brought forward and dwelt upon with so -rapturous a delight, that any young man of five and twenty must have -been insensible indeed, not to become an immediate convert to the -excellence of such works, however disregarded before. Their taste was -strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by -each; or if any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no -longer than till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her -eyes could be displayed. He acquiesced in all her decisions, caught -all her enthusiasm; and long before his visit concluded, they -conversed with the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance. - -"Well, Marianne," said Elinor, as soon as he had left them, "for _one_ -morning I think you have done pretty well. You have already -ascertained Mr. Willoughby's opinion in almost every matter of -importance. You know what he thinks of Cowper and Scott; you are -certain of his estimating their beauties as he ought, and you have -received every assurance of his admiring Pope no more than is proper. -But how is your acquaintance to be long supported, under such -extraordinary despatch of every subject for discourse? You will soon -have exhausted each favourite topic. Another meeting will suffice to -explain his sentiments on picturesque beauty, and second marriages, -and then you can have nothing farther to ask." - -"Elinor," cried Marianne, "is this fair? is this just? are my ideas so -scanty? But I see what you mean. I have been too much at my ease, too -happy, too frank. I have erred against every common-place notion of -decorum; I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been -reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful:--had I talked only of the -weather and the roads, and had I spoken only once in ten minutes, this -reproach would have been spared." - -"My love," said her mother, "you must not be offended with Elinor--she -was only in jest. I should scold her myself, if she were capable of -wishing to check the delight of your conversation with our new -friend." Marianne was softened in a moment. - -Willoughby, on his side, gave every proof of his pleasure in their -acquaintance, which an evident wish of improving it could offer. He -came to them every day. To enquire after Marianne was at first his -excuse; but the encouragement of his reception, to which every day -gave greater kindness, made such an excuse unnecessary before it had -ceased to be possible, by Marianne's perfect recovery. She was -confined for some days to the house; but never had any confinement -been less irksome. Willoughby was a young man of good abilities, quick -imagination, lively spirits, and open, affectionate manners. He was -exactly formed to engage Marianne's heart, for with all this, he -joined not only a captivating person, but a natural ardour of mind -which was now roused and increased by the example of her own, and -which recommended him to her affection beyond every thing else. - -His society became gradually her most exquisite enjoyment. They read, -they talked, they sang together; his musical talents were -considerable; and he read with all the sensibility and spirit which -Edward had unfortunately wanted. - -In Mrs. Dashwood's estimation he was as faultless as in Marianne's; -and Elinor saw nothing to censure in him but a propensity, in which he -strongly resembled and peculiarly delighted her sister, of saying too -much what he thought on every occasion, without attention to persons -or circumstances. In hastily forming and giving his opinion of other -people, in sacrificing general politeness to the enjoyment of -undivided attention where his heart was engaged, and in slighting too -easily the forms of worldly propriety, he displayed a want of caution -which Elinor could not approve, in spite of all that he and Marianne -could say in its support. - -Marianne began now to perceive that the desperation which had seized -her at sixteen and a half, of ever seeing a man who could satisfy her -ideas of perfection, had been rash and unjustifiable. Willoughby was -all that her fancy had delineated in that unhappy hour and in every -brighter period, as capable of attaching her; and his behaviour -declared his wishes to be in that respect as earnest, as his abilities -were strong. - -[Illustration: _They sang together._] - -Her mother too, in whose mind not one speculative thought of their -marriage had been raised, by his prospect of riches, was led before -the end of a week to hope and expect it; and secretly to congratulate -herself on having gained two such sons-in-law as Edward and -Willoughby. - -Colonel Brandon's partiality for Marianne, which had so -early been discovered by his friends, now first became perceptible to -Elinor, when it ceased to be noticed by them. Their attention and wit -were drawn off to his more fortunate rival; and the raillery which the -other had incurred before any partiality arose, was removed when his -feelings began really to call for the ridicule so justly annexed to -sensibility. Elinor was obliged, though unwillingly, to believe that -the sentiments which Mrs. Jennings had assigned him for her own -satisfaction, were now actually excited by her sister; and that -however a general resemblance of disposition between the parties might -forward the affection of Mr. Willoughby, an equally striking -opposition of character was no hindrance to the regard of Colonel -Brandon. She saw it with concern; for what could a silent man of five -and thirty hope, when opposed to a very lively one of five and twenty? -and as she could not even wish him successful, she heartily wished him -indifferent. She liked him--in spite of his gravity and reserve, she -beheld in him an object of interest. His manners, though serious, were -mild; and his reserve appeared rather the result of some oppression of -spirits than of any natural gloominess of temper. Sir John had dropped -hints of past injuries and disappointments, which justified her belief -of his being an unfortunate man, and she regarded him with respect and -compassion. - -Perhaps she pitied and esteemed him the more because he was slighted -by Willoughby and Marianne, who, prejudiced against him for being -neither lively nor young, seemed resolved to undervalue his merits. - -"Brandon is just the kind of man," said Willoughby one day, when they -were talking of him together, "whom every body speaks well of, and -nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody -remembers to talk to." - -"That is exactly what I think of him," cried Marianne. - -"Do not boast of it, however," said Elinor, "for it is injustice in -both of you. He is highly esteemed by all the family at the park, and -I never see him myself without taking pains to converse with him." - -"That he is patronised by _you_," replied Willoughby, "is certainly in -his favour; but as for the esteem of the others, it is a reproach in -itself. Who would submit to the indignity of being approved by such a -woman as Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, that could command the -indifference of any body else?" - -"But perhaps the abuse of such people as yourself and Marianne will -make amends for the regard of Lady Middleton and her mother. If their -praise is censure, your censure may be praise, for they are not more -undiscerning, than you are prejudiced and unjust." - -"In defence of your _protege_ you can even be saucy." - -"My _protege_, as you call him, is a sensible man; and sense will -always have attractions for me. Yes, Marianne, even in a man between -thirty and forty. He has seen a great deal of the world; has been -abroad, has read, and has a thinking mind. I have found him capable of -giving me much information on various subjects; and he has always -answered my inquiries with readiness of good-breeding and good -nature." - -"That is to say," cried Marianne contemptuously, "he has told you, -that in the East Indies the climate is hot, and the mosquitoes are -troublesome." - -"He _would_ have told me so, I doubt not, had I made any such -inquiries, but they happened to be points on which I had been -previously informed." - -"Perhaps," said Willoughby, "his observations may have extended to the -existence of nabobs, gold mohrs, and palanquins." - -"I may venture to say that _his_ observations have stretched much -further than _your_ candour. But why should you dislike him?" - -"I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very -respectable man, who has every body's good word, and nobody's notice; -who, has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to -employ, and two new coats every year." - -"Add to which," cried Marianne, "that he has neither genius, taste, -nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no -ardour, and his voice no expression." - -"You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass," replied Elinor, -"and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the -commendation I am able to give of him is comparatively cold and -insipid. I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred, -well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an -amiable heart." - -"Miss Dashwood," cried Willoughby, "you are now using me unkindly. You -are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, and to convince me against my -will. But it will not do. You shall find me as stubborn as you can be -artful. I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel -Brandon; he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he -has found fault with the hanging of my curricle, and I cannot persuade -him to buy my brown mare. If it will be any satisfaction to you, -however, to be told, that I believe his character to be in other -respects irreproachable, I am ready to confess it. And in return for -an acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, you cannot deny me -the privilege of disliking him as much as ever." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -Little had Mrs. Dashwood or her daughters imagined when they first -came into Devonshire, that so many engagements would arise to occupy -their time as shortly presented themselves, or that they should have -such frequent invitations and such constant visitors as to leave them -little leisure for serious employment. Yet such was the case. When -Marianne was recovered, the schemes of amusement at home and abroad, -which Sir John had been previously forming, were put into execution. -The private balls at the park then began; and parties on the water -were made and accomplished as often as a showery October would allow. -In every meeting of the kind Willoughby was included; and the ease and -familiarity which naturally attended these parties were exactly -calculated to give increasing intimacy to his acquaintance with the -Dashwoods, to afford him opportunity of witnessing the excellencies of -Marianne, of marking his animated admiration of her, and of receiving, -in her behaviour to himself, the most pointed assurance of her -affection. - -Elinor could not be surprised at their attachment. She only wished -that it were less openly shown; and once or twice did venture to -suggest the propriety of some self-command to Marianne. But Marianne -abhorred all concealment where no real disgrace could attend -unreserve; and to aim at the restraint of sentiments which were not in -themselves illaudable, appeared to her not merely an unnecessary -effort, but a disgraceful subjection of reason to common-place and -mistaken notions. Willoughby thought the same; and their behaviour at -all times, was an illustration of their opinions. - -When he was present she had no eyes for any one else. Every thing he -did, was right. Every thing he said, was clever. If their evenings at -the park were concluded with cards, he cheated himself and all the -rest of the party to get her a good hand. If dancing formed the -amusement of the night, they were partners for half the time; and when -obliged to separate for a couple of dances, were careful to stand -together and scarcely spoke a word to any body else. Such conduct made -them of course most exceedingly laughed at; but ridicule could not -shame, and seemed hardly to provoke them. - -Mrs. Dashwood entered into all their feelings with a warmth which left -her no inclination for checking this excessive display of them. To her -it was but the natural consequence of a strong affection in a young -and ardent mind. - -This was the season of happiness to Marianne. Her heart was devoted to -Willoughby, and the fond attachment to Norland, which she brought with -her from Sussex, was more likely to be softened than she had thought -it possible before, by the charms which his society bestowed on her -present home. - -Elinor's happiness was not so great. Her heart was not so much at -ease, nor her satisfaction in their amusements so pure. They afforded -her no companion that could make amends for what she had left behind, -nor that could teach her to think of Norland with less regret than -ever. Neither Lady Middleton nor Mrs. Jennings could supply to her the -conversation she missed; although the latter was an everlasting -talker, and from the first had regarded her with a kindness which -ensured her a large share of her discourse. She had already repeated -her own history to Elinor three or four times; and had Elinor's memory -been equal to her means of improvement, she might have known very -early in their acquaintance all the particulars of Mr. Jennings's last -illness, and what he said to his wife a few minutes before he died. -Lady Middleton was more agreeable than her mother only in being more -silent. Elinor needed little observation to perceive that her reserve -was a mere calmness of manner with which sense had nothing to do. -Towards her husband and mother she was the same as to them; and -intimacy was therefore neither to be looked for nor desired. She had -nothing to say one day that she had not said the day before. Her -insipidity was invariable, for even her spirits were always the same; -and though she did not oppose the parties arranged by her husband, -provided every thing were conducted in style and her two eldest -children attended her, she never appeared to receive more enjoyment -from them than she might have experienced in sitting at home; and so -little did her presence add to the pleasure of the others, by any -share in their conversation, that they were sometimes only reminded of -her being amongst them by her solicitude about her troublesome boys. - -In Colonel Brandon alone, of all her new acquaintance, did Elinor find -a person who could in any degree claim the respect of abilities, -excite the interest of friendship, or give pleasure as a companion. -Willoughby was out of the question. Her admiration and regard, even -her sisterly regard, was all his own; but he was a lover; his -attentions were wholly Marianne's, and a far less agreeable man might -have been more generally pleasing. Colonel Brandon, unfortunately for -himself, had no such encouragement to think only of Marianne, and in -conversing with Elinor he found the greatest consolation for the -indifference of her sister. - -Elinor's compassion for him increased, as she had reason to suspect -that the misery of disappointed love had already been known to him. -This suspicion was given by some words which accidentally dropped from -him one evening at the park, when they were sitting down together by -mutual consent, while the others were dancing. His eyes were fixed on -Marianne, and, after a silence of some minutes, he said, with a faint -smile, "Your sister, I understand, does not approve of second -attachments." - -"No," replied Elinor, "her opinions are all romantic." - -"Or rather, as I believe, she considers them impossible to exist." - -"I believe she does. But how she contrives it without reflecting on -the character of her own father, who had himself two wives, I know -not. A few years however will settle her opinions on the reasonable -basis of common sense and observation; and then they may be more easy -to define and to justify than they now are, by any body but herself." - -"This will probably be the case," he replied; "and yet there is -something so amiable in the prejudices of a young mind, that one is -sorry to see them give way to the reception of more general opinions." - -"I cannot agree with you there," said Elinor. "There are -inconveniences attending such feelings as Marianne's, which all the -charms of enthusiasm and ignorance of the world cannot atone for. Her -systems have all the unfortunate tendency of setting propriety at -nought; and a better acquaintance with the world is what I look -forward to as her greatest possible advantage." - -After a short pause he resumed the conversation by saying-- - -"Does your sister make no distinction in her objections against a -second attachment? or is it equally criminal in every body? Are those -who have been disappointed in their first choice, whether from the -inconstancy of its object, or the perverseness of circumstances, to be -equally indifferent during the rest of their lives?" - -"Upon my word, I am not acquainted with the minutiae of her principles. -I only know that I never yet heard her admit any instance of a second -attachment's being pardonable." - -"This," said he, "cannot hold; but a change, a total change of -sentiments--No, no, do not desire it; for when the romantic -refinements of a young mind are obliged to give way, how frequently -are they succeeded by such opinions as are but too common, and too -dangerous! I speak from experience. I once knew a lady who in temper -and mind greatly resembled your sister, who thought and judged like -her, but who from an enforced change--from a series of unfortunate -circumstances--" Here he stopped suddenly; appeared to think that he -had said too much, and by his countenance gave rise to conjectures, -which might not otherwise have entered Elinor's head. The lady would -probably have passed without suspicion, had he not convinced Miss -Dashwood that what concerned her ought not to escape his lips. As it -was, it required but a slight effort of fancy to connect his emotion -with the tender recollection of past regard. Elinor attempted no more. -But Marianne, in her place, would not have done so little. The whole -story would have been speedily formed under her active imagination; -and every thing established in the most melancholy order of disastrous -love. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -As Elinor and Marianne were walking together the next morning the -latter communicated a piece of news to her sister, which in spite of -all that she knew before of Marianne's imprudence and want of thought, -surprised her by its extravagant testimony of both. Marianne told her, -with the greatest delight, that Willoughby had given her a horse, one -that he had bred himself on his estate in Somersetshire, and which was -exactly calculated to carry a woman. Without considering that it was -not in her mother's plan to keep any horse, that if she were to alter -her resolution in favour of this gift, she must buy another for the -servant, and keep a servant to ride it, and after all, build a stable -to receive them, she had accepted the present without hesitation, and -told her sister of it in raptures. - -"He intends to send his groom into Somersetshire immediately for it," -she added, "and when it arrives we will ride every day. You shall -share its use with me. Imagine to yourself, my dear Elinor, the -delight of a gallop on some of these downs." - -Most unwilling was she to awaken from such a dream of felicity to -comprehend all the unhappy truths which attended the affair; and for -some time she refused to submit to them. As to an additional servant, -the expense would be a trifle; Mamma she was sure would never object -to it; and any horse would do for _him_; he might always get one at -the park; as to a stable, the merest shed would be sufficient. Elinor -then ventured to doubt the propriety of her receiving such a present -from a man so little, or at least so lately known to her. This was too -much. - -"You are mistaken, Elinor," said she warmly, "in supposing I know very -little of Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed, but I am much -better acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature in the -world, except yourself and mama. It is not time or opportunity that is -to determine intimacy; it is disposition alone. Seven years would be -insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven -days are more than enough for others. I should hold myself guilty of -greater impropriety in accepting a horse from my brother, than from -Willoughby. Of John I know very little, though we have lived together -for years; but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed." - -Elinor thought it wisest to touch that point no more. She knew her -sister's temper. Opposition on so tender a subject would only attach -her the more to her own opinion. But by an appeal to her affection for -her mother, by representing the inconveniences which that indulgent -mother must draw on herself, if (as would probably be the case) she -consented to this increase of establishment, Marianne was shortly -subdued; and she promised not to tempt her mother to such imprudent -kindness by mentioning the offer, and to tell Willoughby when she saw -him next, that it must be declined. - -She was faithful to her word; and when Willoughby called at the -cottage, the same day, Elinor heard her express her disappointment to -him in a low voice, on being obliged to forego the acceptance of his -present. The reasons for this alteration were at the same time -related, and they were such as to make further entreaty on his side -impossible. His concern however was very apparent; and after -expressing it with earnestness, he added, in the same low voice, "But, -Marianne, the horse is still yours, though you cannot use it now. I -shall keep it only till you can claim it. When you leave Barton to -form your own establishment in a more lasting home, Queen Mab shall -receive you." - -This was all overheard by Miss Dashwood; and in the whole of the -sentence, in his manner of pronouncing it, and in his addressing her -sister by her Christian name alone, she instantly saw an intimacy so -decided, a meaning so direct, as marked a perfect agreement between -them. From that moment she doubted not of their being engaged to each -other; and the belief of it created no other surprise than that she, -or any of their friends, should be left by tempers so frank, to -discover it by accident. - -Margaret related something to her the next day, which placed this -matter in a still clearer light. Willoughby had spent the preceding -evening with them, and Margaret, by being left some time in the -parlour with only him and Marianne, had had opportunity for -observations, which, with a most important face, she communicated to -her eldest sister, when they were next by themselves. - -"Oh, Elinor!" she cried, "I have such a secret to tell you about -Marianne. I am sure she will be married to Mr. Willoughby very soon." - -"You have said so," replied Elinor, "almost every day since they first -met on High-church Down; and they had not known each other a week, I -believe, before you were certain that Marianne wore his picture round -her neck; but it turned out to be only the miniature of our great -uncle." - -"But indeed this is quite another thing. I am sure they will be -married very soon, for he has got a lock of her hair." - -"Take care, Margaret. It may be only the hair of some great uncle of -_his_." - -"But, indeed, Elinor, it is Marianne's. I am almost sure it is, for I -saw him cut it off. Last night after tea, when you and mama went out -of the room, they were whispering and talking together as fast as -could be, and he seemed to be begging something of her, and presently -he took up her scissors and cut off a long lock of her hair, for it -was all tumbled down her back; and he kissed it, and folded it up in a -piece of white paper; and put it into his pocket-book." - -For such particulars, stated on such authority, Elinor could not -withhold her credit; nor was she disposed to it, for the circumstance -was in perfect unison with what she had heard and seen herself. - -Margaret's sagacity was not always displayed in a way so satisfactory -to her sister. When Mrs. Jennings attacked her one evening at the -park, to give the name of the young man who was Elinor's particular -favourite, which had been long a matter of great curiosity to her, -Margaret answered by looking at her sister, and saying, "I must not -tell, may I, Elinor?" - -This of course made every body laugh; and Elinor tried to laugh too. -But the effort was painful. She was convinced that Margaret had fixed -on a person whose name she could not bear with composure to become a -standing joke with Mrs. Jennings. - -[Illustration: _He cut off a long lock of her hair._] - -Marianne felt for her most sincerely; but she did more harm than good -to the cause, by turning very red and saying in an angry manner to -Margaret-- - -"Remember that whatever your conjectures may be, you have no right to -repeat them." - -"I never had any conjectures about it," replied Margaret; "it was you -who told me of it yourself." - -This increased the mirth of the company, and Margaret was eagerly -pressed to say something more. - -"Oh! pray, Miss Margaret, let us know all about it," said Mrs. -Jennings. "What is the gentleman's name?" - -"I must not tell, ma'am. But I know very well what it is; and I know -where he is too." - -"Yes, yes, we can guess where he is; at his own house at Norland to be -sure. He is the curate of the parish I dare say." - -"No, _that_ he is not. He is of no profession at all." - -"Margaret," said Marianne with great warmth, "you know that all this -is an invention of your own, and that there is no such person in -existence." - -"Well, then, he is lately dead, Marianne, for I am sure there was such -a man once, and his name begins with an F." - -Most grateful did Elinor feel to Lady Middleton for observing, at this -moment, "that it rained very hard," though she believed the -interruption to proceed less from any attention to her, than from her -ladyship's great dislike of all such inelegant subjects of raillery as -delighted her husband and mother. The idea however started by her, was -immediately pursued by Colonel Brandon, who was on every occasion -mindful of the feelings of others; and much was said on the subject of -rain by both of them. Willoughby opened the piano-forte, and asked -Marianne to sit down to it; and thus amidst the various endeavours of -different people to quit the topic, it fell to the ground. But not so -easily did Elinor recover from the alarm into which it had thrown her. - -A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see -a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a -brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not -be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict -orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, -and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be -allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit -them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They -contained a noble piece of water--a sail on which was to a form a -great part of the morning's amusement; cold provisions were to be -taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted -in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure. - -To some few of the company it appeared rather a bold undertaking, -considering the time of year, and that it had rained every day for the -last fortnight; and Mrs. Dashwood, who had already a cold, was -persuaded by Elinor to stay at home. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -Their intended excursion to Whitwell turned out very different from -what Elinor had expected. She was prepared to be wet through, -fatigued, and frightened; but the event was still more unfortunate, -for they did not go at all. - -By ten o'clock the whole party was assembled at the park, where they -were to breakfast. The morning was rather favourable, though it had -rained all night, as the clouds were then dispersing across the sky, -and the sun frequently appeared. They were all in high spirits and -good humour, eager to be happy, and determined to submit to the -greatest inconveniences and hardships rather than be otherwise. - -While they were at breakfast the letters were brought in. Among the -rest there was one for Colonel Brandon:--he took it, looked at the -direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room. - -"What is the matter with Brandon?" said Sir John. - -Nobody could tell. - -"I hope he has had no bad news," said Lady Middleton. "It must be -something extraordinary that could make Colonel Brandon leave my -breakfast table so suddenly." - -In about five minutes he returned. - -"No bad news, Colonel, I hope;" said Mrs. Jennings, as soon as he -entered the room. - -"None at all, ma'am, I thank you." - -"Was it from Avignon? I hope it is not to say that your sister is -worse." - -"No, ma'am. It came from town, and is merely a letter of business." - -"But how came the hand to discompose you so much, if it was only a -letter of business? Come, come, this won't do, Colonel; so let us hear -the truth of it." - -"My dear madam," said Lady Middleton, "recollect what you are saying." - -"Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin Fanny is married?" said -Mrs. Jennings, without attending to her daughter's reproof. - -"No, indeed, it is not." - -"Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel. And I hope she is well." - -"Whom do you mean, ma'am?" said he, colouring a little. - -"Oh! you know who I mean." - -"I am particularly sorry, ma'am," said he, addressing Lady Middleton, -"that I should receive this letter today, for it is on business which -requires my immediate attendance in town." - -"In town!" cried Mrs. Jennings. "What can you have to do in town at -this time of year?" - -"My own loss is great," he continued, "in being obliged to leave so -agreeable a party; but I am the more concerned, as I fear my presence -is necessary to gain your admittance at Whitwell." - -What a blow upon them all was this! - -"But if you write a note to the housekeeper, Mr. Brandon," said -Marianne, eagerly, "will it not be sufficient?" - -He shook his head. - -"We must go," said Sir John. "It shall not be put off when we are so -near it. You cannot go to town till tomorrow, Brandon, that is all." - -"I wish it could be so easily settled. But it is not in my power to -delay my journey for one day!" - -"If you would but let us know what your business is," said Mrs. -Jennings, "we might see whether it could be put off or not." - -"You would not be six hours later," said Willoughby, "if you were to -defer your journey till our return." - -"I cannot afford to lose _one_ hour." - -Elinor then heard Willoughby say, in a low voice to Marianne, "There -are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of -them. He was afraid of catching cold I dare say, and invented this -trick for getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was -of his own writing." - -"I have no doubt of it," replied Marianne. - -"There is no persuading you to change your mind, Brandon, I know of -old," said Sir John, "when once you are determined on anything. But, -however, I hope you will think better of it. Consider, here are the -two Miss Careys come over from Newton, the three Miss Dashwoods walked -up from the cottage, and Mr. Willoughby got up two hours before his -usual time, on purpose to go to Whitwell." - -Colonel Brandon again repeated his sorrow at being the cause of -disappointing the party; but at the same time declared it to be -unavoidable. - -"Well, then, when will you come back again?" - -"I hope we shall see you at Barton," added her ladyship, "as soon as -you can conveniently leave town; and we must put off the party to -Whitwell till you return." - -"You are very obliging. But it is so uncertain, when I may have it in -my power to return, that I dare not engage for it at all." - -"Oh! he must and shall come back," cried Sir John. "If he is not here -by the end of the week, I shall go after him." - -"Ay, so do, Sir John," cried Mrs. Jennings, "and then perhaps you may -find out what his business is." - -"I do not want to pry into other men's concerns. I suppose it is -something he is ashamed of." - -Colonel Brandon's horses were announced. - -"You do not go to town on horseback, do you?" added Sir John. - -"No. Only to Honiton. I shall then go post." - -"Well, as you are resolved to go, I wish you a good journey. But you -had better change your mind." - -"I assure you it is not in my power." - -He then took leave of the whole party. - -"Is there no chance of my seeing you and your sisters in town this -winter, Miss Dashwood?" - -"I am afraid, none at all." - -"Then I must bid you farewell for a longer time than I should wish to -do." - -To Marianne, he merely bowed and said nothing. - -"Come Colonel," said Mrs. Jennings, "before you go, do let us know -what you are going about." - -He wished her a good morning, and, attended by Sir John, left the -room. - -The complaints and lamentations which politeness had hitherto -restrained, now burst forth universally; and they all agreed again and -again how provoking it was to be so disappointed. - -"I can guess what his business is, however," said Mrs. Jennings -exultingly. - -"Can you, ma'am?" said almost every body. - -"Yes; it is about Miss Williams, I am sure." - -"And who is Miss Williams?" asked Marianne. - -"What! do not you know who Miss Williams is? I am sure you must have -heard of her before. She is a relation of the Colonel's, my dear; a -very near relation. We will not say how near, for fear of shocking the -young ladies." Then, lowering her voice a little, she said to Elinor, -"She is his natural daughter." - -"Indeed!" - -"Oh, yes; and as like him as she can stare. I dare say the Colonel -will leave her all his fortune." - -When Sir John returned, he joined most heartily in the general regret -on so unfortunate an event; concluding however by observing, that as -they were all got together, they must do something by way of being -happy; and after some consultation it was agreed, that although -happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell, they might procure a -tolerable composure of mind by driving about the country. The -carriages were then ordered; Willoughby's was first, and Marianne -never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove through the -park very fast, and they were soon out of sight; and nothing more of -them was seen till their return, which did not happen till after the -return of all the rest. They both seemed delighted with their drive; -but said only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes, while -the others went on the downs. - -It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening, and that -every body should be extremely merry all day long. Some more of the -Careys came to dinner, and they had the pleasure of sitting down -nearly twenty to table, which Sir John observed with great -contentment. Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder -Miss Dashwoods. Mrs. Jennings sat on Elinor's right hand; and they had -not been long seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, and -said to Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, "I have found you -out in spite of all your tricks. I know where you spent the morning." - -Marianne coloured, and replied very hastily, "Where, pray?" - -"Did not you know," said Willoughby, "that we had been out in my -curricle?" - -"Yes, yes, Mr. Impudence, I know that very well, and I was determined -to find out _where_ you had been to. I hope you like your house, Miss -Marianne. It is a very large one, I know; and when I come to see you, -I hope you will have new-furnished it, for it wanted it very much when -I was there six years ago." - -Marianne turned away in great confusion. Mrs. Jennings laughed -heartily; and Elinor found that in her resolution to know where they -had been, she had actually made her own woman enquire of Mr. -Willoughby's groom; and that she had by that method been informed that -they had gone to Allenham, and spent a considerable time there in -walking about the garden and going all over the house. - -Elinor could hardly believe this to be true, as it seemed very -unlikely that Willoughby should propose, or Marianne consent, to enter -the house while Mrs. Smith was in it, with whom Marianne had not the -smallest acquaintance. - -As soon as they left the dining-room, Elinor enquired of her about it; -and great was her surprise when she found that every circumstance -related by Mrs. Jennings was perfectly true. Marianne was quite angry -with her for doubting it. - -"Why should you imagine, Elinor, that we did not go there, or that we -did not see the house? Is not it what you have often wished to do -yourself?" - -"Yes, Marianne, but I would not go while Mrs. Smith was there, and -with no other companion than Mr. Willoughby." - -[Illustration: "_I have found you out in spite of all your tricks._"] - -"Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to -show that house; and as he went in an open carriage, it was -impossible to have any other companion. I never spent a pleasanter -morning in my life." - -"I am afraid," replied Elinor, "that the pleasantness of an employment -does not always evince its propriety." - -"On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof of it, Elinor; for -if there had been any real impropriety in what I did, I should have -been sensible of it at the time, for we always know when we are acting -wrong, and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure." - -"But, my dear Marianne, as it has already exposed you to some very -impertinent remarks, do you not now begin to doubt the discretion of -your own conduct?" - -"If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. Jennings are to be the proof of -impropriety in conduct, we are all offending every moment of our -lives. I value not her censure any more than I should do her -commendation. I am not sensible of having done anything wrong in -walking over Mrs. Smith's grounds, or in seeing her house. They will -one day be Mr. Willoughby's, and--" - -"If they were one day to be your own, Marianne, you would not be -justified in what you have done." - -She blushed at this hint; but it was even visibly gratifying to her; -and after a ten minutes' interval of earnest thought, she came to her -sister again, and said with great good humour, "Perhaps, Elinor, it -_was_ rather ill-judged in me to go to Allenham; but Mr. Willoughby -wanted particularly to show me the place; and it is a charming house, -I assure you. There is one remarkably pretty sitting room up stairs; -of a nice comfortable size for constant use, and with modern furniture -it would be delightful. It is a corner room, and has windows on two -sides. On one side you look across the bowling-green, behind the -house, to a beautiful hanging wood, and on the other you have a view -of the church and village, and, beyond them, of those fine bold hills -that we have so often admired. I did not see it to advantage, for -nothing could be more forlorn than the furniture; but if it were newly -fitted up--a couple of hundred pounds, Willoughby says, would make it -one of the pleasantest summer-rooms in England." - -Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the -others, she would have described every room in the house with equal -delight. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon's visit at the park, with -his steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised -the wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great -wonderer, as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all -the comings and goings of all their acquaintance. She wondered, with -little intermission what could be the reason of it; was sure there -must be some bad news, and thought over every kind of distress that -could have befallen him, with a fixed determination that he should not -escape them all. - -"Something very melancholy must be the matter, I am sure," said she. -"I could see it in his face. Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances -may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two -thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do -think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else -can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know -the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I -dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. -May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I -have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is -about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed -in his circumstances _now_, for he is a very prudent man, and to be -sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can -be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. -His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him -out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the -bargain." - -So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings. Her opinion varying with every -fresh conjecture, and all seeming equally probable as they arose. -Elinor, though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel -Brandon, could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly -away, which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling; for besides -that the circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting -amazement or variety of speculation, her wonder was otherwise -disposed of. It was engrossed by the extraordinary silence of her -sister and Willoughby on the subject, which they must know to be -peculiarly interesting to them all. As this silence continued, every -day made it appear more strange and more incompatible with the -disposition of both. Why they should not openly acknowledge to her -mother and herself, what their constant behaviour to each other -declared to have taken place, Elinor could not imagine. - -She could easily conceive that marriage might not be immediately in -their power; for though Willoughby was independent, there was no -reason to believe him rich. His estate had been rated by Sir John at -about six or seven hundred a year; but he lived at an expense to which -that income could hardly be equal, and he had himself often complained -of his poverty. But for this strange kind of secrecy maintained by -them relative to their engagement, which in fact concealed nothing at -all, she could not account; and it was so wholly contradictory to -their general opinions and practice, that a doubt sometimes entered -her mind of their being really engaged, and this doubt was enough to -prevent her making any inquiry of Marianne. - -Nothing could be more expressive of attachment to them all, than -Willoughby's behaviour. To Marianne it had all the distinguishing -tenderness which a lover's heart could give, and to the rest of the -family it was the affectionate attention of a son and a brother. The -cottage seemed to be considered and loved by him as his home; many -more of his hours were spent there than at Allenham; and if no general -engagement collected them at the park, the exercise which called him -out in the morning was almost certain of ending there, where the rest -of the day was spent by himself at the side of Marianne, and by his -favourite pointer at her feet. - -One evening in particular, about a week after Colonel Brandon left the -country, his heart seemed more than usually open to every feeling of -attachment to the objects around him; and on Mrs. Dashwood's happening -to mention her design of improving the cottage in the spring, he -warmly opposed every alteration of a place which affection had -established as perfect with him. - -"What!" he exclaimed, "Improve this dear cottage! No. _That_ I will -never consent to. Not a stone must be added to its walls, not an inch -to its size, if my feelings are regarded." - -"Do not be alarmed," said Miss Dashwood, "nothing of the kind will be -done; for my mother will never have money enough to attempt it." - -"I am heartily glad of it," he cried. "May she always be poor, if she -can employ her riches no better." - -"Thank you, Willoughby. But you may be assured that I would not -sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment of yours, or of any one -whom I loved, for all the improvements in the world. Depend upon it -that whatever unemployed sum may remain, when I make up my accounts in -the spring, I would even rather lay it uselessly by than dispose of it -in a manner so painful to you. But are you really so attached to this -place as to see no defect in it?" - -"I am," said he. "To me it is faultless. Nay, more, I consider it as -the only form of building in which happiness is attainable, and were I -rich enough I would instantly pull Combe down, and build it up again -in the exact plan of this cottage." - -"With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes, I suppose," said -Elinor. - -"Yes," cried he in the same eager tone, "with all and every thing -belonging to it--in no one convenience or inconvenience about it, -should the least variation be perceptible. Then, and then only, under -such a roof, I might perhaps be as happy at Combe as I have been at -Barton." - -"I flatter myself," replied Elinor, "that even under the disadvantage -of better rooms and a broader staircase, you will hereafter find your -own house as faultless as you now do this." - -"There certainly are circumstances," said Willoughby, "which might -greatly endear it to me; but this place will always have one claim of -my affection, which no other can possibly share." - -Mrs. Dashwood looked with pleasure at Marianne, whose fine eyes were -fixed so expressively on Willoughby, as plainly denoted how well she -understood him. - -"How often did I wish," added he, "when I was at Allenham this time -twelvemonth, that Barton cottage were inhabited! I never passed within -view of it without admiring its situation, and grieving that no one -should live in it. How little did I then think that the very first -news I should hear from Mrs. Smith, when I next came into the country, -would be that Barton cottage was taken: and I felt an immediate -satisfaction and interest in the event, which nothing but a kind of -prescience of what happiness I should experience from it, can account -for. Must it not have been so, Marianne?" speaking to her in a lowered -voice. Then continuing his former tone, he said, "And yet this house -you would spoil, Mrs. Dashwood? You would rob it of its simplicity by -imaginary improvement! and this dear parlour in which our acquaintance -first began, and in which so many happy hours have been since spent by -us together, you would degrade to the condition of a common entrance, -and every body would be eager to pass through the room which has -hitherto contained within itself more real accommodation and comfort -than any other apartment of the handsomest dimensions in the world -could possibly afford." - -Mrs. Dashwood again assured him that no alteration of the kind should -be attempted. - -"You are a good woman," he warmly replied. "Your promise makes me -easy. Extend it a little farther, and it will make me happy. Tell me -that not only your house will remain the same, but that I shall ever -find you and yours as unchanged as your dwelling; and that you will -always consider me with the kindness which has made everything -belonging to you so dear to me." - -The promise was readily given, and Willoughby's behaviour during the -whole of the evening declared at once his affection and happiness. - -"Shall we see you tomorrow to dinner?" said Mrs. Dashwood, when he was -leaving them. "I do not ask you to come in the morning, for we must -walk to the park, to call on Lady Middleton." - -He engaged to be with them by four o'clock. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -Mrs. Dashwood's visit to Lady Middleton took place the next day, and -two of her daughters went with her; but Marianne excused herself from -being of the party, under some trifling pretext of employment; and her -mother, who concluded that a promise had been made by Willoughby the -night before of calling on her while they were absent, was perfectly -satisfied with her remaining at home. - -On their return from the park they found Willoughby's curricle and -servant in waiting at the cottage, and Mrs. Dashwood was convinced -that her conjecture had been just. So far it was all as she had -foreseen; but on entering the house she beheld what no foresight had -taught her to expect. They were no sooner in the passage than Marianne -came hastily out of the parlour apparently in violent affliction, with -her handkerchief at her eyes; and without noticing them ran up stairs. -Surprised and alarmed they proceeded directly into the room she had -just quitted, where they found only Willoughby, who was leaning -against the mantelpiece with his back towards them. He turned round -on their coming in, and his countenance showed that he strongly -partook of the emotion which overpowered Marianne. - -"Is anything the matter with her?" cried Mrs. Dashwood as she -entered:--"is she ill?" - -"I hope not," he replied, trying to look cheerful; and with a forced -smile presently added, "It is I who may rather expect to be ill--for I -am now suffering under a very heavy disappointment!" - -"Disappointment?" - -"Yes, for I am unable to keep my engagement with you. Mrs. Smith has -this morning exercised the privilege of riches upon a poor dependent -cousin, by sending me on business to London. I have just received my -dispatches, and taken my farewell of Allenham; and by way of -exhilaration I am now come to take my farewell of you." - -"To London!--and are you going this morning?" - -"Almost this moment." - -[Illustration: _Apparently in violent affliction._] - -"This is very unfortunate. But Mrs. Smith must be obliged, and her -business will not detain you from us long I hope." - -He coloured as he replied, "You are very kind, but I have no idea of -returning into Devonshire immediately. My visits to Mrs. Smith are -never repeated within the twelvemonth." - -"And is Mrs. Smith your only friend? Is Allenham the only house in the -neighbourhood to which you will be welcome? For shame, Willoughby, can -you wait for an invitation here?" - -His colour increased; and with his eyes fixed on the ground he only -replied, "You are too good." - -Mrs. Dashwood looked at Elinor with surprise. Elinor felt equal -amazement. For a few moments every one was silent. Mrs. Dashwood first -spoke. - -"I have only to add, my dear Willoughby, that at Barton cottage you -will always be welcome; for I will not press you to return here -immediately, because you only can judge how far _that_ might be -pleasing to Mrs. Smith; and on this head I shall be no more disposed -to question your judgment than to doubt your inclination." - -"My engagements at present," replied Willoughby, confusedly, "are of -such a nature--that--I dare not flatter myself--" - -He stopped. Mrs. Dashwood was too much astonished to speak, and -another pause succeeded. This was broken by Willoughby, who said with -a faint smile, "It is folly to linger in this manner. I will not -torment myself any longer by remaining among friends whose society it -is impossible for me now to enjoy." - -He then hastily took leave of them all and left the room. They saw him -step into his carriage, and in a minute it was out of sight. - -Mrs. Dashwood felt too much for speech, and instantly quitted the -parlour to give way in solitude to the concern and alarm which this -sudden departure occasioned. - -Elinor's uneasiness was at least equal to her mother's. She thought of -what had just passed with anxiety and distrust. Willoughby's behaviour -in taking leave of them, his embarrassment, and affectation of -cheerfulness, and, above all, his unwillingness to accept her mother's -invitation--a backwardness so unlike a lover, so unlike -himself--greatly disturbed her. One moment she feared that no serious -design had ever been formed on his side; and the next that some -unfortunate quarrel had taken place between him and her sister. The -distress in which Marianne had quitted the room was such as a serious -quarrel could most reasonably account for, though when she considered -what Marianne's love for him was, a quarrel seemed almost impossible. - -But whatever might be the particulars of their separation, her -sister's affliction was indubitable; and she thought with the -tenderest compassion of that violent sorrow which Marianne was in all -probability not merely giving way to as a relief, but feeding and -encouraging as a duty. - -In about half an hour her mother returned, and though her eyes were -red, her countenance was not uncheerful. - -"Our dear Willoughby is now some miles from Barton, Elinor," said she, -as she sat down to work, "and with how heavy a heart does he travel?" - -"It is all very strange. So suddenly to be gone! It seems but the work -of a moment. And last night he was with us so happy, so cheerful, so -affectionate? And now, after only ten minutes notice,--gone too -without intending to return! Something more than what he owned to us -must have happened. He did not speak, he did not behave like himself. -_You_ must have seen the difference as well as I. What can it be? Can -they have quarrelled? Why else should he have shown such unwillingness -to accept your invitation here?" - -"It was not inclination that he wanted, Elinor; I could plainly see -_that._ He had not the power of accepting it. I have thought it all -over I assure you, and I can perfectly account for every thing that at -first seemed strange to me as well as to you." - -"Can you, indeed!" - -"Yes. I have explained it to myself in the most satisfactory way; but -you, Elinor, who love to doubt where you can--it will not satisfy -_you_, I know; but you shall not talk _me_ out of my trust in it. I am -persuaded that Mrs. Smith suspects his regard for Marianne, -disapproves of it, (perhaps because she has other views for him,) and -on that account is eager to get him away; and that the business which -she sends him off to transact is invented as an excuse to dismiss -him. This is what I believe to have happened. He is, moreover, aware -that she _does_ disapprove the connection, he dares not therefore at -present confess to her his engagement with Marianne, and he feels -himself obliged, from his dependent situation, to give into her -schemes, and absent himself from Devonshire for a while. You will tell -me, I know, that this may or may _not_ have happened; but I will -listen to no cavil, unless you can point out any other method of -understanding the affair as satisfactory at this. And now, Elinor, -what have you to say?" - -"Nothing, for you have anticipated my answer." - -"Then you would have told me, that it might or might not have -happened. Oh, Elinor, how incomprehensible are your feelings! You had -rather take evil upon credit than good. You had rather look out for -misery for Marianne, and guilt for poor Willoughby, than an apology -for the latter. You are resolved to think him blamable, because he -took leave of us with less affection than his usual behaviour has -shown. And is no allowance to be made for inadvertence, or for spirits -depressed by recent disappointment? Are no probabilities to be -accepted, merely because they are not certainties? Is nothing due to -the man whom we have all such reason to love, and no reason in the -world to think ill of?--to the possibility of motives unanswerable in -themselves, though unavoidably secret for a while? And, after all, -what is it you suspect him of?" - -"I can hardly tell myself. But suspicion of something unpleasant is -the inevitable consequence of such an alteration as we just witnessed -in him. There is great truth, however, in what you have now urged of -the allowances which ought to be made for him, and it is my wish to be -candid in my judgment of every body. Willoughby may undoubtedly have -very sufficient reasons for his conduct, and I will hope that he has. -But it would have been more like Willoughby to acknowledge them at -once. Secrecy may be advisable; but still I cannot help wondering at -its being practiced by him." - -"Do not blame him, however, for departing from his character, where -the deviation is necessary. But you really do admit the justice of -what I have said in his defence?--I am happy--and he is acquitted." - -"Not entirely. It may be proper to conceal their engagement (if they -_are_ engaged) from Mrs. Smith; and if that is the case, it must be -highly expedient for Willoughby to be but little in Devonshire at -present. But this is no excuse for their concealing it from us." - -"Concealing it from us! my dear child, do you accuse Willoughby and -Marianne of concealment? This is strange indeed, when your eyes have -been reproaching them every day for incautiousness." - -"I want no proof of their affection," said Elinor; "but of their -engagement I do." - -"I am perfectly satisfied of both." - -"Yet not a syllable has been said to you on the subject, by either of -them." - -"I have not wanted syllables where actions have spoken so plainly. Has -not his behaviour to Marianne and to all of us, for at least the last -fortnight, declared that he loved and considered her as his future -wife, and that he felt for us the attachment of the nearest relation? -Have we not perfectly understood each other? Has not my consent been -daily asked by his looks, his manner, his attentive and affectionate -respect? My Elinor, is it possible to doubt their engagement? How -could such a thought occur to you? How is it to be supposed that -Willoughby, persuaded as he must be of your sister's love, should -leave her, and leave her perhaps for months, without telling her of -his affection,--that they should part without a mutual exchange of -confidence?" - -"I confess," replied Elinor, "that every circumstance except _one_ is -in favour of their engagement; but that _one_ is the total silence of -both on the subject, and with me it almost outweighs every other." - -"How strange this is! You must think wretchedly indeed of Willoughby, -if, after all that has openly passed between them, you can doubt the -nature of the terms on which they are together. Has he been acting a -part in his behaviour to your sister all this time? Do you suppose him -really indifferent to her?" - -"No, I cannot think that. He must and does love her I am sure." - -"But with a strange kind of tenderness, if he can leave her with such -indifference, such carelessness of the future, as you attribute to -him." - -"You must remember, my dear mother, that I have never considered this -matter as certain. I have had my doubts, I confess; but they are -fainter than they were, and they may soon be entirely done away. If we -find they correspond, every fear of mine will be removed." - -"A mighty concession indeed! If you were to see them at the altar, you -would suppose they were going to be married. Ungracious girl! But I -require no such proof. Nothing in my opinion has ever passed to -justify doubt; no secrecy has been attempted; all has been uniformly -open and unreserved. You cannot doubt your sister's wishes. It must be -Willoughby therefore whom you suspect. But why? Is he not a man of -honour and feeling? Has there been any inconsistency on his side to -create alarm? can he be deceitful?" - -"I hope not, I believe not," cried Elinor. "I love Willoughby, -sincerely love him; and suspicion of his integrity cannot be more -painful to yourself than to me. It has been involuntary, and I will -not encourage it. I was startled, I confess, by the alteration in his -manners this morning; he did not speak like himself, and did not -return your kindness with any cordiality. But all this may be -explained by such a situation of his affairs as you have supposed. He -had just parted from my sister, had seen her leave him in the greatest -affliction; and if he felt obliged, from a fear of offending Mrs. -Smith, to resist the temptation of returning here soon, and yet aware -that by declining your invitation, by saying that he was going away -for some time, he should seem to act an ungenerous, a suspicious part -by our family, he might well be embarrassed and disturbed. In such a -case, a plain and open avowal of his difficulties would have been more -to his honour I think, as well as more consistent with his general -character;--but I will not raise objections against any one's conduct -on so illiberal a foundation, as a difference in judgment from myself, -or a deviation from what I may think right and consistent." - -"You speak very properly. Willoughby certainly does not deserve to be -suspected. Though _we_ have not known him long, he is no stranger in -this part of the world; and who has ever spoken to his disadvantage? -Had he been in a situation to act independently and marry immediately, -it might have been odd that he should leave us without acknowledging -everything to me at once: but this is not the case. It is an -engagement in some respects not prosperously begun, for their marriage -must be at a very uncertain distance; and even secrecy, as far as it -can be observed, may now be very advisable." - -They were interrupted by the entrance of Margaret; and Elinor was then -at liberty to think over the representations of her mother, to -acknowledge the probability of many, and hope for the justice of all. - -They saw nothing of Marianne till dinner time, when she entered the -room and took her place at the table without saying a word. Her eyes -were red and swollen; and it seemed as if her tears were even then -restrained with difficulty. She avoided the looks of them all, could -neither eat nor speak, and after some time, on her mother's silently -pressing her hand with tender compassion, her small degree of -fortitude was quite overcome, she burst into tears and left the room. - -This violent oppression of spirits continued the whole evening. She -was without any power, because she was without any desire of command -over herself. The slightest mention of anything relative to Willoughby -overpowered her in an instant; and though her family were most -anxiously attentive to her comfort, it was impossible for them, if -they spoke at all, to keep clear of every subject which her feelings -connected with him. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able -to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. She -would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next -morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than -when she lay down in it. But the feelings which made such composure a -disgrace, left her in no danger of incurring it. She was awake the -whole night, and she wept the greatest part of it. She got up with a -headache, was unable to talk, and unwilling to take any nourishment; -giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters, and forbidding -all attempt at consolation from either. Her sensibility was potent -enough! - -When breakfast was over she walked out by herself, and wandered about -the village of Allenham, indulging the recollection of past enjoyment -and crying over the present reverse for the chief of the morning. - -The evening passed off in the equal indulgence of feeling. She played -over every favourite song that she had been used to play to -Willoughby, every air in which their voices had been oftenest joined, -and sat at the instrument gazing on every line of music that he had -written out for her, till her heart was so heavy that no farther -sadness could be gained; and this nourishment of grief was every day -applied. She spent whole hours at the pianoforte alternately singing -and crying; her voice often totally suspended by her tears. In books -too, as well as in music, she courted the misery which a contrast -between the past and present was certain of giving. She read nothing -but what they had been used to read together. - -Such violence of affliction indeed could not be supported for ever; it -sunk within a few days into a calmer melancholy; but these -employments, to which she daily recurred, her solitary walks and -silent meditations, still produced occasional effusions of sorrow as -lively as ever. - -No letter from Willoughby came; and none seemed expected by Marianne. -Her mother was surprised, and Elinor again became uneasy. But Mrs. -Dashwood could find explanations whenever she wanted them, which at -least satisfied herself. - -"Remember, Elinor," said she, "how very often Sir John fetches our -letters himself from the post, and carries them to it. We have already -agreed that secrecy may be necessary, and we must acknowledge that it -could not be maintained if their correspondence were to pass through -Sir John's hands." - -Elinor could not deny the truth of this, and she tried to find in it a -motive sufficient for their silence. But there was one method so -direct, so simple, and in her opinion so eligible of knowing the real -state of the affair, and of instantly removing all mystery, that she -could not help suggesting it to her mother. - -"Why do you not ask Marianne at once," said she, "whether she is or -she is not engaged to Willoughby? From you, her mother, and so kind, -so indulgent a mother, the question could not give offence. It would -be the natural result of your affection for her. She used to be all -unreserve, and to you more especially." - -"I would not ask such a question for the world. Supposing it possible -that they are not engaged, what distress would not such an enquiry -inflict! At any rate it would be most ungenerous. I should never -deserve her confidence again, after forcing from her a confession of -what is meant at present to be unacknowledged to any one. I know -Marianne's heart: I know that she dearly loves me, and that I shall -not be the last to whom the affair is made known, when circumstances -make the revealment of it eligible. I would not attempt to force the -confidence of any one; of a child much less; because a sense of duty -would prevent the denial which her wishes might direct." - -Elinor thought this generosity overstrained, considering her sister's -youth, and urged the matter farther, but in vain; common sense, common -care, common prudence, were all sunk in Mrs. Dashwood's romantic -delicacy. - -It was several days before Willoughby's name was mentioned before -Marianne by any of her family; Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, indeed, -were not so nice; their witticisms added pain to many a painful hour; -but one evening, Mrs. Dashwood, accidentally taking up a volume of -Shakespeare, exclaimed-- - -"We have never finished _Hamlet_, Marianne; our dear Willoughby went -away before we could get through it. We will put it by, that when he -comes again--; But it may be months, perhaps, before _that_ happens." - -"Months!" cried Marianne, with strong surprise. "No--nor many weeks." - -Mrs. Dashwood was sorry for what she had said; but it gave Elinor -pleasure, as it produced a reply from Marianne so expressive of -confidence in Willoughby and knowledge of his intentions. - -One morning, about a week after his leaving the country, Marianne was -prevailed on to join her sisters in their usual walk, instead of -wandering away by herself. Hitherto she had carefully avoided every -companion in her rambles. If her sisters intended to walk on the -downs, she directly stole away towards the lanes; if they talked of -the valley, she was as speedy in climbing the hills, and could never -be found when the others set off. But at length she was secured by the -exertions of Elinor, who greatly disapproved such continual seclusion. -They walked along the road through the valley, and chiefly in silence, -for Marianne's _mind_ could not be controlled, and Elinor, satisfied -with gaining one point, would not then attempt more. Beyond the -entrance of the valley, where the country, though still rich, was less -wild and more open, a long stretch of the road which they had -travelled on first coming to Barton, lay before them; and on reaching -that point, they stopped to look around them, and examine a prospect -which formed the distance of their view from the cottage, from a spot -which they had never happened to reach in any of their walks before. - -Amongst the objects in the scene, they soon discovered an animated -one; it was a man on horseback riding towards them. In a few minutes -they could distinguish him to be a gentleman; and in a moment -afterwards Marianne rapturously exclaimed-- - -"It is he; it is indeed--I know it is!" and was hastening to meet him, -when Elinor cried out-- - -"Indeed, Marianne, I think you are mistaken. It is not Willoughby. The -person is not tall enough for him, and has not his air." - -"He has, he has," cried Marianne, "I am sure he has. His air, his -coat, his horse. I knew how soon he would come." - -She walked eagerly on as she spoke; and Elinor, to screen Marianne -from particularity, as she felt almost certain of its not being -Willoughby, quickened her pace and kept up with her. They were soon -within thirty yards of the gentleman. Marianne looked again; her heart -sunk within her; and abruptly turning round, she was hurrying back, -when the voices of both her sisters were raised to detain her; a -third, almost as well known as Willoughby's, joined them in begging -her to stop, and she turned round with surprise to see and welcome -Edward Ferrars. - -[Illustration: _Begging her to stop._] - -He was the only person in the world who could at that moment be -forgiven for not being Willoughby; the only one who could have gained -a smile from her; but she dispersed her tears to smile on _him_, and -in her sister's happiness forgot for a time her own disappointment. - -He dismounted, and giving his horse to his servant, walked back with -them to Barton, whither he was purposely coming to visit them. - -He was welcomed by them all with great cordiality, but especially by -Marianne, who showed more warmth of regard in her reception of him -than even Elinor herself. To Marianne, indeed, the meeting between -Edward and her sister was but a continuation of that unaccountable -coldness which she had often observed at Norland in their mutual -behaviour. On Edward's side, more particularly, there was a deficiency -of all that a lover ought to look and say on such an occasion. He was -confused, seemed scarcely sensible of pleasure in seeing them, looked -neither rapturous nor gay, said little but what was forced from him by -questions, and distinguished Elinor by no mark of affection. Marianne -saw and listened with increasing surprise. She began almost to feel a -dislike of Edward; and it ended, as every feeling must end with her, -by carrying back her thoughts to Willoughby, whose manners formed a -contrast sufficiently striking to those of his brother elect. - -After a short silence which succeeded the first surprise and enquiries -of meeting, Marianne asked Edward if he came directly from London. No, -he had been in Devonshire a fortnight. - -"A fortnight!" she repeated, surprised at his being so long in the -same county with Elinor without seeing her before. - -He looked rather distressed as he added, that he had been staying with -some friends near Plymouth. - -"Have you been lately in Sussex?" said Elinor. - -"I was at Norland about a month ago." - -"And how does dear, dear Norland look?" cried Marianne. - -"Dear, dear Norland," said Elinor, "probably looks much as it always -does at this time of the year--the woods and walks thickly covered -with dead leaves." - -"Oh," cried Marianne, "with what transporting sensation have I -formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see -them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, -the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard -them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven -as much as possible from the sight." - -"It is not every one," said Elinor, "who has your passion for dead -leaves." - -"No; my feelings are not often shared, not often understood. But -_sometimes_ they are." As she said this, she sunk into a reverie for a -few moments; but rousing herself again, "Now, Edward," said she, -calling his attention to the prospect, "here is Barton valley. Look up -to it, and be tranquil if you can. Look at those hills! Did you ever -see their equals? To the left is Barton park, amongst those woods and -plantations. You may see the end of the house. And there, beneath that -farthest hill, which rises with such grandeur, is our cottage." - -"It is a beautiful country," he replied; "but these bottoms must be -dirty in winter." - -"How can you think of dirt, with such objects before you?" - -"Because," replied he, smiling, "among the rest of the objects before -me, I see a very dirty lane." - -"How strange!" said Marianne to herself as she walked on. - -"Have you an agreeable neighbourhood here? Are the Middletons pleasant -people?" - -"No, not all," answered Marianne; "we could not be more unfortunately -situated." - -"Marianne," cried her sister, "how can you say so? How can you be so -unjust? They are a very respectable family, Mr. Ferrars; and towards -us have behaved in the friendliest manner. Have you forgot, Marianne, -how many pleasant days we have owed to them?" - -"No," said Marianne, in a low voice, "nor how many painful moments." - -Elinor took no notice of this; and directing her attention to their -visitor, endeavoured to support something like discourse with him, by -talking of their present residence, its conveniences, &c. extorting -from him occasional questions and remarks. His coldness and reserve -mortified her severely; she was vexed and half angry; but resolving to -regulate her behaviour to him by the past rather than the present, -she avoided every appearance of resentment or displeasure, and treated -him as she thought he ought to be treated from the family connection. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Mrs. Dashwood was surprised only for a moment at seeing him; for his -coming to Barton was, in her opinion, of all things the most natural. -Her joy and expression of regard long outlived her wonder. He received -the kindest welcome from her; and shyness, coldness, reserve could not -stand against such a reception. They had begun to fail him before he -entered the house, and they were quite overcome by the captivating -manners of Mrs. Dashwood. Indeed a man could not very well be in love -with either of her daughters, without extending the passion to her; -and Elinor had the satisfaction of seeing him soon become more like -himself. His affections seemed to reanimate towards them all, and his -interest in their welfare again became perceptible. He was not in -spirits, however; he praised their house, admired its prospect, was -attentive, and kind; but still he was not in spirits. The whole family -perceived it, and Mrs. Dashwood, attributing it to some want of -liberality in his mother, sat down to table indignant against all -selfish parents. - -"What are Mrs. Ferrars's views for you at present, Edward?" said she, -when dinner was over and they had drawn round the fire; "are you still -to be a great orator in spite of yourself?" - -"No. I hope my mother is now convinced that I have no more talents -than inclination for a public life!" - -"But how is your fame to be established? for famous you must be to -satisfy all your family; and with no inclination for expense, no -affection for strangers, no profession, and no assurance, you may find -it a difficult matter." - -"I shall not attempt it. I have no wish to be distinguished; and have -every reason to hope I never shall. Thank Heaven! I cannot be forced -into genius and eloquence." - -"You have no ambition, I well know. Your wishes are all moderate." - -"As moderate as those of the rest of the world, I believe. I wish as -well as every body else to be perfectly happy; but, like every body -else it must be in my own way. Greatness will not make me so." - -"Strange that it would!" cried Marianne. "What have wealth or grandeur -to do with happiness?" - -"Grandeur has but little," said Elinor, "but wealth has much to do -with it." - -"Elinor, for shame!" said Marianne, "money can only give happiness -where there is nothing else to give it. Beyond a competence, it can -afford no real satisfaction, as far as mere self is concerned." - -"Perhaps," said Elinor, smiling, "we may come to the same point. -_Your_ competence and _my_ wealth are very much alike, I dare say; and -without them, as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every -kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas are only more -noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?" - -"About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year; not more than _that._" - -Elinor laughed. "_Two_ thousand a year! _One_ is my wealth! I guessed -how it would end." - -"And yet two thousand a-year is a very moderate income," said -Marianne. "A family cannot well be maintained on a smaller. I am sure -I am not extravagant in my demands. A proper establishment of -servants, a carriage, perhaps two, and hunters, cannot be supported on -less." - -Elinor smiled again, to hear her sister describing so accurately their -future expenses at Combe Magna. - -"Hunters!" repeated Edward; "but why must you have hunters? Every body -does not hunt." - -Marianne coloured as she replied, "But most people do." - -"I wish," said Margaret, striking out a novel thought, "that somebody -would give us all a large fortune a-piece!" - -"Oh that they would!" cried Marianne, her eyes sparkling with -animation, and her cheeks glowing with the delight of such imaginary -happiness. - -"We are all unanimous in that wish, I suppose," said Elinor, "in spite -of the insufficiency of wealth." - -"Oh dear!" cried Margaret, "how happy I should be! I wonder what I -should do with it!" - -Marianne looked as if she had no doubt on that point. - -"I should be puzzled to spend so large a fortune myself," said Mrs. -Dashwood, "if my children were all to be rich without my help." - -"You must begin your improvements on this house," observed Elinor, -"and your difficulties will soon vanish." - -"What magnificent orders would travel from this family to London," -said Edward, "in such an event! What a happy day for booksellers, -music-sellers, and print-shops! You, Miss Dashwood, would give a -general commission for every new print of merit to be sent you--and as -for Marianne, I know her greatness of soul, there would not be music -enough in London to content her. And books!--Thomson, Cowper, -Scott--she would buy them all over and over again: she would buy up -every copy, I believe, to prevent their falling into unworthy hands; -and she would have every book that tells her how to admire an old -twisted tree. Should not you, Marianne? Forgive me, if I am very -saucy. But I was willing to show you that I had not forgot our old -disputes." - -"I love to be reminded of the past, Edward--whether it be melancholy -or gay, I love to recall it--and you will never offend me by talking -of former times. You are very right in supposing how my money would be -spent; some of it, at least--my loose cash--would certainly be -employed in improving my collection of music and books." - -"And the bulk of your fortune would be laid out in annuities on the -authors or their heirs." - -"No, Edward, I should have something else to do with it." - -"Perhaps, then, you would bestow it as a reward on that person who -wrote the ablest defence of your favourite maxim, that no one can ever -be in love more than once in their life--for your opinion on that -point is unchanged, I presume?" - -"Undoubtedly. At my time of life opinions are tolerably fixed. It is -not likely that I should now see or hear any thing to change them." - -"Marianne is as steadfast as ever, you see," said Elinor, "she is not -at all altered." - -"She is only grown a little more grave than she was." - -"Nay, Edward," said Marianne, "you need not reproach me. You are not -very gay yourself." - -"Why should you think so!" replied he, with a sigh. "But gaiety never -was a part of _my_ character." - -"Nor do I think it a part of Marianne's," said Elinor; "I should -hardly call her a lively girl--she is very earnest, very eager in all -she does--sometimes talks a great deal and always with animation--but -she is not often really merry." - -"I believe you are right," he replied, "and yet I have always set her -down as a lively girl." - -"I have frequently detected myself in such kind of mistakes," said -Elinor, "in a total misapprehension of character in some point or -other: fancying people so much more gay or grave, or ingenious or -stupid than they really are, and I can hardly tell why or in what the -deception originated. Sometimes one is guided by what they say of -themselves, and very frequently by what other people say of them, -without giving oneself time to deliberate and judge." - -"But I thought it was right, Elinor," said Marianne, "to be guided -wholly by the opinion of other people. I thought our judgments were -given us merely to be subservient to those of neighbours. This has -always been your doctrine, I am sure." - -"No, Marianne, never. My doctrine has never aimed at the subjection of -the understanding. All I have ever attempted to influence has been the -behaviour. You must not confound my meaning. I am guilty, I confess, -of having often wished you to treat our acquaintance in general with -greater attention; but when have I advised you to adopt their -sentiments or to conform to their judgment in serious matters?" - -"You have not been able to bring your sister over to your plan of -general civility," said Edward to Elinor, "Do you gain no ground?" - -"Quite the contrary," replied Elinor, looking expressively at -Marianne. - -"My judgment," he returned, "is all on your side of the question; but -I am afraid my practice is much more on your sister's. I never wish to -offend, but I am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, when I -am only kept back by my natural awkwardness. I have frequently thought -that I must have been intended by nature to be fond of low company, I -am so little at my ease among strangers of gentility!" - -"Marianne has not shyness to excuse any inattention of hers," said -Elinor. - -"She knows her own worth too well for false shame," replied Edward. -"Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in some way or -other. If I could persuade myself that my manners were perfectly easy -and graceful, I should not be shy." - -"But you would still be reserved," said Marianne, "and that is worse." - -Edward started. "Reserved! Am I reserved, Marianne?" - -"Yes, very." - -"I do not understand you," replied he, colouring. "Reserved!--how, in -what manner? What am I to tell you? What can you suppose?" - -Elinor looked surprised at his emotion; but trying to laugh off the -subject, she said to him, "Do not you know my sister well enough to -understand what she means? Do not you know she calls every one -reserved who does not talk as fast, and admire what she admires as -rapturously as herself?" - -Edward made no answer. His gravity and thoughtfulness returned on him -in their fullest extent--and he sat for some time silent and dull. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Elinor saw, with great uneasiness the low spirits of her friend. His -visit afforded her but a very partial satisfaction, while his own -enjoyment in it appeared so imperfect. It was evident that he was -unhappy; she wished it were equally evident that he still -distinguished her by the same affection which once she had felt no -doubt of inspiring; but hitherto the continuance of his preference -seemed very uncertain; and the reservedness of his manner towards her -contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the -preceding one. - -He joined her and Marianne in the breakfast-room the next morning -before the others were down; and Marianne, who was always eager to -promote their happiness as far as she could, soon left them to -themselves. But before she was half way upstairs she heard the parlour -door open, and, turning round, was astonished to see Edward himself -come out. - -"I am going into the village to see my horses," said he, "as you are -not yet ready for breakfast; I shall be back again presently." - - * * * * * - -Edward returned to them with fresh admiration of the surrounding -country; in his walk to the village, he had seen many parts of the -valley to advantage; and the village itself, in a much higher -situation than the cottage, afforded a general view of the whole, -which had exceedingly pleased him. This was a subject which ensured -Marianne's attention, and she was beginning to describe her own -admiration of these scenes, and to question him more minutely on the -objects that had particularly struck him, when Edward interrupted her -by saying, "You must not enquire too far, Marianne: remember I have no -knowledge in the picturesque, and I shall offend you by my ignorance -and want of taste if we come to particulars. I shall call hills steep, -which ought to be bold; surfaces strange and uncouth, which ought to -be irregular and rugged; and distant objects out of sight, which ought -only to be indistinct through the soft medium of a hazy atmosphere. -You must be satisfied with such admiration as I can honestly give. I -call it a very fine country,--the hills are steep, the woods seem full -of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug,--with rich -meadows and several neat farm houses scattered here and there. It -exactly answers my idea of a fine country, because it unites beauty -with utility--and I dare say it is a picturesque one too, because you -admire it; I can easily believe it to be full of rocks and -promontories, grey moss and brush wood, but these are all lost on me. -I know nothing of the picturesque." - -"I am afraid it is but too true," said Marianne; "but why should you -boast of it?" - -"I suspect," said Elinor, "that to avoid one kind of affectation, -Edward here falls into another. Because he believes many people -pretend to more admiration of the beauties of nature than they really -feel, and is disgusted with such pretensions, he affects greater -indifference and less discrimination in viewing them himself than he -possesses. He is fastidious and will have an affectation of his own." - -"It is very true," said Marianne, "that admiration of landscape -scenery is become a mere jargon. Every body pretends to feel and tries -to describe with the taste and elegance of him who first defined what -picturesque beauty was. I detest jargon of every kind, and sometimes I -have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to -describe them in but what was worn and hackneyed out of all sense and -meaning." - -"I am convinced," said Edward, "that you really feel all the delight -in a fine prospect which you profess to feel. But, in return, your -sister must allow me to feel no more than I profess. I like a fine -prospect, but not on picturesque principles. I do not like crooked, -twisted, blasted trees. I admire them much more if they are tall, -straight, and flourishing. I do not like ruined, tattered cottages. I -am not fond of nettles or thistles, or heath blossoms. I have more -pleasure in a snug farm-house than a watch-tower,--and a troop of -tidy, happy villages please me better than the finest banditti in the -world." - -Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, with compassion at her -sister. Elinor only laughed. - -The subject was continued no farther; and Marianne remained -thoughtfully silent, till a new object suddenly engaged her attention. -She was sitting by Edward, and in taking his tea from Mrs. Dashwood, -his hand passed so directly before her, as to make a ring, with a -plait of hair in the centre, very conspicuous on one of his fingers. - -"I never saw you wear a ring before, Edward," she cried. "Is that -Fanny's hair? I remember her promising to give you some. But I should -have thought her hair had been darker." - -Marianne spoke inconsiderately what she really felt; but when she saw -how much she had pained Edward, her own vexation at her want of -thought could not be surpassed by his. He coloured very deeply, and -giving a momentary glance at Elinor, replied, "Yes; it is my sister's -hair. The setting always casts a different shade on it, you know." - -Elinor had met his eye, and looked conscious likewise. That the hair -was her own, she instantaneously felt as well satisfied as Marianne; -the only difference in their conclusions was, that what Marianne -considered as a free gift from her sister, Elinor was conscious must -have been procured by some theft or contrivance unknown to herself. -She was not in a humour, however, to regard it as an affront, and -affecting to take no notice of what passed, by instantly talking of -something else, she internally resolved henceforward to catch every -opportunity of eyeing the hair and of satisfying herself, beyond all -doubt, that it was exactly the shade of her own. - -Edward's embarrassment lasted some time, and it ended in an absence of -mind still more settled. He was particularly grave the whole morning. -Marianne severely censured herself for what she had said; but her own -forgiveness might have been more speedy, had she known how little -offence it had given her sister. - -Before the middle of the day, they were visited by Sir John and Mrs. -Jennings, who, having heard of the arrival of a gentleman at the -cottage, came to take a survey of the guest. With the assistance of -his mother-in-law, Sir John was not long in discovering that the name -of Ferrars began with an F. and this prepared a future mine of -raillery against the devoted Elinor, which nothing but the newness of -their acquaintance with Edward could have prevented from being -immediately sprung. But, as it was, she only learned, from some very -significant looks, how far their penetration, founded on Margaret's -instructions, extended. - -Sir John never came to the Dashwoods without either inviting them to -dine at the park the next day, or to drink tea with them that evening. -On the present occasion, for the better entertainment of their -visitor, towards whose amusement he felt himself bound to contribute, -he wished to engage them for both. - -"You _must_ drink tea with us to night," said he, "for we shall be -quite alone; and tomorrow you must absolutely dine with us, for we -shall be a large party." - -Mrs. Jennings enforced the necessity. "And who knows but you may raise -a dance," said she. "And that will tempt _you_, Miss Marianne." - -"A dance!" cried Marianne. "Impossible! Who is to dance?" - -[Illustration: _Came to take a survey of the guest._] - -"Who? why yourselves, and the Careys, and Whitakers to be sure. -What! you thought nobody could dance because a certain person that -shall be nameless is gone!" - -"I wish with all my soul," cried Sir John, "that Willoughby were among -us again." - -This, and Marianne's blushing, gave new suspicions to Edward. "And who -is Willoughby?" said he, in a low voice, to Miss Dashwood, by whom he -was sitting. - -She gave him a brief reply. Marianne's countenance was more -communicative. Edward saw enough to comprehend, not only the meaning -of others, but such of Marianne's expressions as had puzzled him -before; and when their visitors left them, he went immediately round -her, and said, in a whisper, "I have been guessing. Shall I tell you -my guess?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Shall I tell you." - -"Certainly." - -"Well then; I guess that Mr. Willoughby hunts." - -Marianne was surprised and confused, yet she could not help smiling at -the quiet archness of his manner, and after a moment's silence, said-- - -"Oh, Edward! How can you?--But the time will come I hope--I am sure -you will like him." - -"I do not doubt it," replied he, rather astonished at her earnestness -and warmth; for had he not imagined it to be a joke for the good of -her acquaintance in general, founded only on a something or a nothing -between Mr. Willoughby and herself, he would not have ventured to -mention it. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -Edward remained a week at the cottage; he was earnestly pressed by -Mrs. Dashwood to stay longer; but, as if he were bent only on -self-mortification, he seemed resolved to be gone when his enjoyment -among his friends was at the height. His spirits, during the last two -or three days, though still very unequal, were greatly improved--he -grew more and more partial to the house and environs--never spoke of -going away without a sigh--declared his time to be wholly -disengaged--even doubted to what place he should go when he left -them--but still, go he must. Never had any week passed so quickly--he -could hardly believe it to be gone. He said so repeatedly; other -things he said too, which marked the turn of his feelings and gave the -lie to his actions. He had no pleasure at Norland; he detested being -in town; but either to Norland or London, he must go. He valued their -kindness beyond any thing, and his greatest happiness was in being -with them. Yet, he must leave them at the end of a week, in spite of -their wishes and his own, and without any restraint on his time. - -Elinor placed all that was astonishing in this way of acting to his -mother's account; and it was happy for her that he had a mother whose -character was so imperfectly known to her, as to be the general excuse -for every thing strange on the part of her son. Disappointed, however, -and vexed as she was, and sometimes displeased with his uncertain -behaviour to herself, she was very well disposed on the whole to -regard his actions with all the candid allowances and generous -qualifications, which had been rather more painfully extorted from -her, for Willoughby's service, by her mother. His want of spirits, of -openness, and of consistency, were most usually attributed to his want -of independence, and his better knowledge of Mrs. Ferrars's -disposition and designs. The shortness of his visit, the steadiness of -his purpose in leaving them, originated in the same fettered -inclination, the same inevitable necessity of temporizing with his -mother. The old well-established grievance of duty against will, -parent against child, was the cause of all. She would have been glad -to know when these difficulties were to cease, this opposition was to -yield, when Mrs. Ferrars would be reformed, and her son be at liberty -to be happy. But from such vain wishes she was forced to turn for -comfort to the renewal of her confidence in Edward's affection, to the -remembrance of every mark of regard in look or word which fell from -him while at Barton, and above all to that flattering proof of it -which he constantly wore round his finger. - -"I think, Edward," said Mrs. Dashwood, as they were at breakfast the -last morning, "you would be a happier man if you had any profession to -engage your time and give an interest to your plans and actions. Some -inconvenience to your friends, indeed, might result from it--you would -not be able to give them so much of your time. But (with a smile) you -would be materially benefited in one particular at least--you would -know where to go when you left them." - -"I do assure you," he replied, "that I have long thought on this -point, as you think now. It has been, and is, and probably will always -be a heavy misfortune to me, that I have had no necessary business to -engage me, no profession to give me employment, or afford me any thing -like independence. But unfortunately my own nicety, and the nicety of -my friends, have made me what I am, an idle, helpless being. We never -could agree in our choice of a profession. I always preferred the -church, as I still do. But that was not smart enough for my family. -They recommended the army. That was a great deal too smart for me. The -law was allowed to be genteel enough; many young men, who had chambers -in the Temple, made a very good appearance in the first circles, and -drove about town in very knowing gigs. But I had no inclination for -the law, even in this less abstruse study of it, which my family -approved. As for the navy, it had fashion on its side, but I was too -old when the subject was first started to enter it; and, at length, as -there was no necessity for my having any profession at all, as I might -be as dashing and expensive without a red coat on my back as with one, -idleness was pronounced on the whole to be most advantageous and -honourable, and a young man of eighteen is not in general so earnestly -bent on being busy as to resist the solicitations of his friends to do -nothing. I was therefore entered at Oxford and have been properly idle -ever since." - -"The consequence of which, I suppose, will be," said Mrs. Dashwood, -"since leisure has not promoted your own happiness, that your sons -will be brought up to as many pursuits, employments, professions, and -trades as Columella's." - -"They will be brought up," said he, in a serious accent, "to be as -unlike myself as is possible. In feeling, in action, in condition, in -every thing." - -"Come, come; this is all an effusion of immediate want of spirits, -Edward. You are in a melancholy humour, and fancy that any one unlike -yourself must be happy. But remember that the pain of parting from -friends will be felt by every body at times, whatever be their -education or state. Know your own happiness. You want nothing but -patience--or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope. Your -mother will secure to you, in time, that independence you are so -anxious for; it is her duty, and it will, it must ere long become her -happiness to prevent your whole youth from being wasted in discontent. -How much may not a few months do?" - -"I think," replied Edward, "that I may defy many months to produce any -good to me." - -This desponding turn of mind, though it could not be communicated to -Mrs. Dashwood, gave additional pain to them all in the parting, which -shortly took place, and left an uncomfortable impression on Elinor's -feelings especially, which required some trouble and time to subdue. -But as it was her determination to subdue it, and to prevent herself -from appearing to suffer more than what all her family suffered on his -going away, she did not adopt the method so judiciously employed by -Marianne, on a similar occasion, to augment and fix her sorrow, by -seeking silence, solitude and idleness. Their means were as different -as their objects, and equally suited to the advancement of each. - -Elinor sat down to her drawing-table as soon as he was out of the -house, busily employed herself the whole day, neither sought nor -avoided the mention of his name, appeared to interest herself almost -as much as ever in the general concerns of the family, and if, by this -conduct, she did not lessen her own grief, it was at least prevented -from unnecessary increase, and her mother and sisters were spared much -solicitude on her account. - -Such behaviour as this, so exactly the reverse of her own, appeared no -more meritorious to Marianne, than her own had seemed faulty to her. -The business of self-command she settled very easily;--with strong -affections it was impossible, with calm ones it could have no merit. -That her sister's affections _were_ calm, she dared not deny, though -she blushed to acknowledge it; and of the strength of her own, she -gave a very striking proof, by still loving and respecting that -sister, in spite of this mortifying conviction. - -Without shutting herself up from her family, or leaving the house in -determined solitude to avoid them, or lying awake the whole night to -indulge meditation, Elinor found every day afforded her leisure enough -to think of Edward, and of Edward's behaviour, in every possible -variety which the different state of her spirits at different times -could produce,--with tenderness, pity, approbation, censure, and -doubt. There were moments in abundance, when, if not by the absence of -her mother and sisters, at least by the nature of their employments, -conversation was forbidden among them, and every effect of solitude -was produced. Her mind was inevitably at liberty; her thoughts could -not be chained elsewhere; and the past and the future, on a subject so -interesting, must be before her, must force her attention, and engross -her memory, her reflection, and her fancy. - -From a reverie of this kind, as she sat at her drawing-table, she was -roused one morning, soon after Edward's leaving them, by the arrival -of company. She happened to be quite alone. The closing of the little -gate, at the entrance of the green court in front of the house, drew -her eyes to the window, and she saw a large party walking up to the -door. Amongst them were Sir John and Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, -but there were two others, a gentleman and lady, who were quite -unknown to her. She was sitting near the window, and as soon as Sir -John perceived her, he left the rest of the party to the ceremony of -knocking at the door, and stepping across the turf, obliged her to -open the casement to speak to him, though the space was so short -between the door and the window, as to make it hardly possible to -speak at one without being heard at the other. - -"Well," said he, "we have brought you some strangers. How do you like -them?" - -"Hush! they will hear you." - -"Never mind if they do. It is only the Palmers. Charlotte is very -pretty, I can tell you. You may see her if you look this way." - -As Elinor was certain of seeing her in a couple of minutes, without -taking that liberty, she begged to be excused. - -"Where is Marianne? Has she run away because we are come? I see her -instrument is open." - -"She is walking, I believe." - -They were now joined by Mrs. Jennings, who had not patience enough to -wait till the door was opened before she told _her_ story. She came -hallooing to the window, "How do you do, my dear? How does Mrs. -Dashwood do? And where are your sisters? What! all alone! you will be -glad of a little company to sit with you. I have brought my other son -and daughter to see you. Only think of their coming so suddenly! I -thought I heard a carriage last night, while we were drinking our tea, -but it never entered my head that it could be them. I thought of -nothing but whether it might not be Colonel Brandon come back again; -so I said to Sir John, I do think I hear a carriage; perhaps it is -Colonel Brandon come back again--" - -Elinor was obliged to turn from her, in the middle of her story, to -receive the rest of the party; Lady Middleton introduced the two -strangers; Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret came down stairs at the same -time, and they all sat down to look at one another, while Mrs. -Jennings continued her story as she walked through the passage into -the parlour, attended by Sir John. - -Mrs. Palmer was several years younger than Lady Middleton, and totally -unlike her in every respect. She was short and plump, had a very -pretty face, and the finest expression of good humour in it that could -possibly be. Her manners were by no means so elegant as her sister's, -but they were much more prepossessing. She came in with a smile, -smiled all the time of her visit, except when she laughed, and smiled -when she went away. Her husband was a grave looking young man of five -or six and twenty, with an air of more fashion and sense than his -wife, but of less willingness to please or be pleased. He entered the -room with a look of self-consequence, slightly bowed to the ladies, -without speaking a word, and, after briefly surveying them and their -apartments, took up a newspaper from the table, and continued to read -it as long as he stayed. - -Mrs. Palmer, on the contrary, who was strongly endowed by nature with -a turn for being uniformly civil and happy, was hardly seated before -her admiration of the parlour and every thing in it burst forth. - -"Well! what a delightful room this is! I never saw anything so -charming! Only think, Mamma, how it is improved since I was here last! -I always thought it such a sweet place, ma'am! (turning to Mrs. -Dashwood) but you have made it so charming! Only look, sister, how -delightful every thing is! How I should like such a house for myself! -Should not you, Mr. Palmer?" - -Mr. Palmer made her no answer, and did not even raise his eyes from -the newspaper. - -"Mr. Palmer does not hear me," said she, laughing; "he never does -sometimes. It is so ridiculous!" - -This was quite a new idea to Mrs. Dashwood; she had never been used to -find wit in the inattention of any one, and could not help looking -with surprise at them both. - -Mrs. Jennings, in the meantime, talked on as loud as she could, and -continued her account of their surprise, the evening before, on seeing -their friends, without ceasing till every thing was told. Mrs. Palmer -laughed heartily at the recollection of their astonishment, and every -body agreed, two or three times over, that it had been quite an -agreeable surprise. - -"You may believe how glad we all were to see them," added Mrs. -Jennings, leaning forward towards Elinor, and speaking in a low voice -as if she meant to be heard by no one else, though they were seated on -different sides of the room; "but, however, I can't help wishing they -had not travelled quite so fast, nor made such a long journey of it, -for they came all round by London upon account of some business, for -you know (nodding significantly and pointing to her daughter) it was -wrong in her situation. I wanted her to stay at home and rest this -morning, but she would come with us; she longed so much to see you -all!" - -Mrs. Palmer laughed, and said it would not do her any harm. - -"She expects to be confined in February," continued Mrs. Jennings. - -Lady Middleton could no longer endure such a conversation, and -therefore exerted herself to ask Mr. Palmer if there was any news in -the paper. - -"No, none at all," he replied, and read on. - -"Here comes Marianne," cried Sir John. "Now, Palmer, you shall see a -monstrous pretty girl." - -He immediately went into the passage, opened the front door, and -ushered her in himself. Mrs. Jennings asked her, as soon as she -appeared, if she had not been to Allenham; and Mrs. Palmer laughed so -heartily at the question, as to show she understood it. Mr. Palmer -looked up on her entering the room, stared at her some minutes, and -then returned to his newspaper. Mrs. Palmer's eye was now caught by -the drawings which hung round the room. She got up to examine them. - -[Illustration: "_I declare they are quite charming_."] - -"Oh! dear, how beautiful these are! Well! how delightful! Do but look, -mama, how sweet! I declare they are quite charming; I could look at -them for ever." And then sitting down again, she very soon forgot that -there were any such things in the room. - -When Lady Middleton rose to go away, Mr. Palmer rose also, laid down -the newspaper, stretched himself and looked at them all around. - -"My love, have you been asleep?" said his wife, laughing. - -He made her no answer; and only observed, after again examining the -room, that it was very low pitched, and that the ceiling was crooked. -He then made his bow, and departed with the rest. - -Sir John had been very urgent with them all to spend the next day at -the park. Mrs. Dashwood, who did not choose to dine with them oftener -than they dined at the cottage, absolutely refused on her own account; -her daughters might do as they pleased. But they had no curiosity to -see how Mr. and Mrs. Palmer ate their dinner, and no expectation of -pleasure from them in any other way. They attempted, therefore, -likewise, to excuse themselves; the weather was uncertain, and not -likely to be good. But Sir John would not be satisfied--the carriage -should be sent for them and they must come. Lady Middleton too, though -she did not press their mother, pressed them. Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. -Palmer joined their entreaties, all seemed equally anxious to avoid a -family party; and the young ladies were obliged to yield. - -"Why should they ask us?" said Marianne, as soon as they were gone. -"The rent of this cottage is said to be low; but we have it on very -hard terms, if we are to dine at the park whenever any one is staying -either with them, or with us." - -"They mean no less to be civil and kind to us now," said Elinor, "by -these frequent invitations, than by those which we received from them -a few weeks ago. The alteration is not in them, if their parties are -grown tedious and dull. We must look for the change elsewhere." - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -As the Miss Dashwoods entered the drawing-room of the park the next -day, at one door, Mrs. Palmer came running in at the other, looking as -good humoured and merry as before. She took them all most -affectionately by the hand, and expressed great delight in seeing them -again. - -"I am so glad to see you!" said she, seating herself between Elinor -and Marianne, "for it is so bad a day I was afraid you might not come, -which would be a shocking thing, as we go away again tomorrow. We must -go, for the Westons come to us next week you know. It was quite a -sudden thing our coming at all, and I knew nothing of it till the -carriage was coming to the door, and then Mr. Palmer asked me if I -would go with him to Barton. He is so droll! He never tells me any -thing! I am so sorry we cannot stay longer; however we shall meet -again in town very soon, I hope." - -They were obliged to put an end to such an expectation. - -"Not go to town!" cried Mrs. Palmer, with a laugh, "I shall be quite -disappointed if you do not. I could get the nicest house in world for -you, next door to ours, in Hanover-square. You must come, indeed. I am -sure I shall be very happy to chaperon you at any time till I am -confined, if Mrs. Dashwood should not like to go into public." - -They thanked her; but were obliged to resist all her entreaties. - -"Oh, my love," cried Mrs. Palmer to her husband, who just then entered -the room--"you must help me to persuade the Miss Dashwoods to go to -town this winter." - -Her love made no answer; and after slightly bowing to the ladies, -began complaining of the weather. - -"How horrid all this is!" said he. "Such weather makes every thing and -every body disgusting. Dullness is as much produced within doors as -without, by rain. It makes one detest all one's acquaintance. What the -devil does Sir John mean by not having a billiard room in his house? -How few people know what comfort is! Sir John is as stupid as the -weather." - -The rest of the company soon dropt in. - -"I am afraid, Miss Marianne," said Sir John, "you have not been able -to take your usual walk to Allenham today." - -Marianne looked very grave and said nothing. - -"Oh, don't be so sly before us," said Mrs. Palmer; "for we know all -about it, I assure you; and I admire your taste very much, for I think -he is extremely handsome. We do not live a great way from him in the -country, you know. Not above ten miles, I dare say." - -"Much nearer thirty," said her husband. - -"Ah, well! there is not much difference. I never was at his house; but -they say it is a sweet pretty place." - -"As vile a spot as I ever saw in my life," said Mr. Palmer. - -Marianne remained perfectly silent, though her countenance betrayed -her interest in what was said. - -"Is it very ugly?" continued Mrs. Palmer--"then it must be some other -place that is so pretty I suppose." - -When they were seated in the dining room, Sir John observed with -regret that they were only eight all together. - -"My dear," said he to his lady, "it is very provoking that we should -be so few. Why did not you ask the Gilberts to come to us today?" - -"Did not I tell you, Sir John, when you spoke to me about it before, -that it could not be done? They dined with us last." - -"You and I, Sir John," said Mrs. Jennings, "should not stand upon such -ceremony." - -"Then you would be very ill-bred," cried Mr. Palmer. - -"My love you contradict every body," said his wife with her usual -laugh. "Do you know that you are quite rude?" - -"I did not know I contradicted any body in calling your mother -ill-bred." - -"Ay, you may abuse me as you please," said the good-natured old lady, -"you have taken Charlotte off my hands, and cannot give her back -again. So there I have the whip hand of you." - -Charlotte laughed heartily to think that her husband could not get rid -of her; and exultingly said, she did not care how cross he was to her, -as they must live together. It was impossible for any one to be more -thoroughly good-natured, or more determined to be happy than Mrs. -Palmer. The studied indifference, insolence, and discontent of her -husband gave her no pain; and when he scolded or abused her, she was -highly diverted. - -"Mr. Palmer is so droll!" said she, in a whisper, to Elinor. "He is -always out of humour." - -Elinor was not inclined, after a little observation, to give him -credit for being so genuinely and unaffectedly ill-natured or ill-bred -as he wished to appear. His temper might perhaps be a little soured by -finding, like many others of his sex, that through some unaccountable -bias in favour of beauty, he was the husband of a very silly -woman,--but she knew that this kind of blunder was too common for any -sensible man to be lastingly hurt by it. It was rather a wish of -distinction, she believed, which produced his contemptuous treatment -of every body, and his general abuse of every thing before him. It was -the desire of appearing superior to other people. The motive was too -common to be wondered at; but the means, however they might succeed by -establishing his superiority in ill-breeding, were not likely to -attach any one to him except his wife. - -"Oh, my dear Miss Dashwood," said Mrs. Palmer soon afterwards, "I have -got such a favour to ask of you and your sister. Will you come and -spend some time at Cleveland this Christmas? Now, pray do,--and come -while the Westons are with us. You cannot think how happy I shall be! -It will be quite delightful!--My love," applying to her husband, -"don't you long to have the Miss Dashwoods come to Cleveland?" - -"Certainly," he replied, with a sneer--"I came into Devonshire with no -other view." - -"There now,"--said his lady, "you see Mr. Palmer expects you; so you -cannot refuse to come." - -They both eagerly and resolutely declined her invitation. - -"But indeed you must and shall come. I am sure you will like it of all -things. The Westons will be with us, and it will be quite delightful. -You cannot think what a sweet place Cleveland is; and we are so gay -now, for Mr. Palmer is always going about the country canvassing -against the election; and so many people came to dine with us that I -never saw before, it is quite charming! But, poor fellow! it is very -fatiguing to him! for he is forced to make every body like him." - -Elinor could hardly keep her countenance as she assented to the -hardship of such an obligation. - -"How charming it will be," said Charlotte, "when he is in -Parliament!--won't it? How I shall laugh! It will be so ridiculous to -see all his letters directed to him with an M.P. But do you know, he -says, he will never frank for me? He declares he won't. Don't you, Mr. -Palmer?" - -Mr. Palmer took no notice of her. - -"He cannot bear writing, you know," she continued; "he says it is -quite shocking." - -"No," said he, "I never said any thing so irrational. Don't palm all -your abuses of languages upon me." - -"There now; you see how droll he is. This is always the way with him! -Sometimes he won't speak to me for half a day together, and then he -comes out with something so droll--all about any thing in the world." - -She surprised Elinor very much as they returned into the drawing-room, -by asking her whether she did not like Mr. Palmer excessively. - -"Certainly," said Elinor; "he seems very agreeable." - -"Well--I am so glad you do. I thought you would, he is so pleasant; -and Mr. Palmer is excessively pleased with you and your sisters I can -tell you, and you can't think how disappointed he will be if you don't -come to Cleveland. I can't imagine why you should object to it." - -Elinor was again obliged to decline her invitation; and by changing -the subject, put a stop to her entreaties. She thought it probable -that as they lived in the same county, Mrs. Palmer might be able to -give some more particular account of Willoughby's general character, -than could be gathered from the Middletons' partial acquaintance with -him; and she was eager to gain from any one, such a confirmation of -his merits as might remove the possibility of fear from Marianne. She -began by inquiring if they saw much of Mr. Willoughby at Cleveland, -and whether they were intimately acquainted with him. - -"Oh dear, yes; I know him extremely well," replied Mrs. Palmer;--"Not -that I ever spoke to him, indeed; but I have seen him for ever in -town. Somehow or other I never happened to be staying at Barton while -he was at Allenham. Mama saw him here once before, but I was with my -uncle at Weymouth. However, I dare say we should have seen a great -deal of him in Somersetshire, if it had not happened very unluckily -that we should never have been in the country together. He is very -little at Combe, I believe; but if he were ever so much there, I do -not think Mr. Palmer would visit him, for he is in the opposition, you -know, and besides it is such a way off. I know why you inquire about -him, very well; your sister is to marry him. I am monstrous glad of -it, for then I shall have her for a neighbour you know." - -"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "you know much more of the matter than -I do, if you have any reason to expect such a match." - -"Don't pretend to deny it, because you know it is what every body -talks of. I assure you I heard of it in my way through town." - -"My dear Mrs. Palmer!" - -"Upon my honour I did. I met Colonel Brandon Monday morning in -Bond-street, just before we left town, and he told me of it directly." - -"You surprise me very much. Colonel Brandon tell you of it! Surely you -must be mistaken. To give such intelligence to a person who could not -be interested in it, even if it were true, is not what I should expect -Colonel Brandon to do." - -"But I do assure you it was so, for all that, and I will tell you how -it happened. When we met him, he turned back and walked with us; and -so we began talking of my brother and sister, and one thing and -another, and I said to him, 'So, Colonel, there is a new family come -to Barton cottage, I hear, and mama sends me word they are very -pretty, and that one of them is going to be married to Mr. Willoughby -of Combe Magna. Is it true, pray? for of course you must know, as you -have been in Devonshire so lately.'" - -"And what did the Colonel say?" - -"Oh--he did not say much; but he looked as if he knew it to be true, -so from that moment I set it down as certain. It will be quite -delightful, I declare! When is it to take place?" - -"Mr. Brandon was very well I hope?" - -"Oh! yes, quite well; and so full of your praises, he did nothing but -say fine things of you." - -"I am flattered by his commendation. He seems an excellent man; and I -think him uncommonly pleasing." - -"So do I. He is such a charming man, that it is quite a pity he should -be so grave and so dull. Mamma says _he_ was in love with your sister -too. I assure you it was a great compliment if he was, for he hardly -ever falls in love with any body." - -"Is Mr. Willoughby much known in your part of Somersetshire?" said -Elinor. - -"Oh! yes, extremely well; that is, I do not believe many people are -acquainted with him, because Combe Magna is so far off; but they all -think him extremely agreeable I assure you. Nobody is more liked than -Mr. Willoughby wherever he goes, and so you may tell your sister. She -is a monstrous lucky girl to get him, upon my honour; not but that he -is much more lucky in getting her, because she is so very handsome and -agreeable, that nothing can be good enough for her. However, I don't -think her hardly at all handsomer than you, I assure you; for I think -you both excessively pretty, and so does Mr. Palmer too I am sure, -though we could not get him to own it last night." - -Mrs. Palmer's information respecting Willoughby was not very material; -but any testimony in his favour, however small, was pleasing to her. - -"I am so glad we are got acquainted at last," continued Charlotte. -"And now I hope we shall always be great friends. You can't think how -much I longed to see you! It is so delightful that you should live at -the cottage! Nothing can be like it, to be sure! And I am so glad your -sister is going to be well married! I hope you will be a great deal at -Combe Magna. It is a sweet place, by all accounts." - -"You have been long acquainted with Colonel Brandon, have not you?" - -"Yes, a great while; ever since my sister married. He was a particular -friend of Sir John's. I believe," she added in a low voice, "he would -have been very glad to have had me, if he could. Sir John and Lady -Middleton wished it very much. But mama did not think the match good -enough for me, otherwise Sir John would have mentioned it to the -Colonel, and we should have been married immediately." - -"Did not Colonel Brandon know of Sir John's proposal to your mother -before it was made? Had he never owned his affection to yourself?" - -"Oh, no; but if mama had not objected to it, I dare say he would have -liked it of all things. He had not seen me then above twice, for it -was before I left school. However, I am much happier as I am. Mr. -Palmer is the kind of man I like." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -The Palmers returned to Cleveland the next day, and the two families -at Barton were again left to entertain each other. But this did not -last long; Elinor had hardly got their last visitors out of her head, -had hardly done wondering at Charlotte's being so happy without a -cause, at Mr. Palmer's acting so simply, with good abilities, and at -the strange unsuitableness which often existed between husband and -wife, before Sir John's and Mrs. Jennings's active zeal in the cause -of society, procured her some other new acquaintance to see and -observe. - -In a morning's excursion to Exeter, they had met with two young -ladies, whom Mrs. Jennings had the satisfaction of discovering to be -her relations, and this was enough for Sir John to invite them -directly to the park, as soon as their present engagements at Exeter -were over. Their engagements at Exeter instantly gave way before such -an invitation, and Lady Middleton was thrown into no little alarm on -the return of Sir John, by hearing that she was very soon to receive a -visit from two girls whom she had never seen in her life, and of whose -elegance--whose tolerable gentility even--she could have no proof; for -the assurances of her husband and mother on that subject went for -nothing at all. Their being her relations too made it so much the -worse; and Mrs. Jennings's attempts at consolation were therefore -unfortunately founded, when she advised her daughter not to care about -their being so fashionable; because they were all cousins and must put -up with one another. As it was impossible, however, now to prevent -their coming, Lady Middleton resigned herself to the idea of it, with -all the philosophy of a well-bred woman, contenting herself with -merely giving her husband a gentle reprimand on the subject five or -six times every day. - -The young ladies arrived: their appearance was by no means ungenteel -or unfashionable. Their dress was very smart, their manners very -civil, they were delighted with the house, and in raptures with the -furniture, and they happened to be so doatingly fond of children that -Lady Middleton's good opinion was engaged in their favour before they -had been an hour at the Park. She declared them to be very agreeable -girls indeed, which for her ladyship was enthusiastic admiration. Sir -John's confidence in his own judgment rose with this animated praise, -and he set off directly for the cottage to tell the Miss Dashwoods of -the Miss Steeles' arrival, and to assure them of their being the -sweetest girls in the world. From such commendation as this, however, -there was not much to be learned; Elinor well knew that the sweetest -girls in the world were to be met with in every part of England, under -every possible variation of form, face, temper and understanding. Sir -John wanted the whole family to walk to the Park directly and look at -his guests. Benevolent, philanthropic man! It was painful to him even -to keep a third cousin to himself. - -"Do come now," said he--"pray come--you must come--I declare you shall -come--You can't think how you will like them. Lucy is monstrous -pretty, and so good humoured and agreeable! The children are all -hanging about her already, as if she was an old acquaintance. And they -both long to see you of all things, for they have heard at Exeter that -you are the most beautiful creatures in the world; and I have told -them it is all very true, and a great deal more. You will be delighted -with them I am sure. They have brought the whole coach full of -playthings for the children. How can you be so cross as not to come? -Why they are your cousins, you know, after a fashion. _You_ are my -cousins, and they are my wife's, so you must be related." - -But Sir John could not prevail. He could only obtain a promise of -their calling at the Park within a day or two, and then left them in -amazement at their indifference, to walk home and boast anew of their -attractions to the Miss Steeles, as he had been already boasting of -the Miss Steeles to them. - -When their promised visit to the Park and consequent introduction to -these young ladies took place, they found in the appearance of the -eldest, who was nearly thirty, with a very plain and not a sensible -face, nothing to admire; but in the other, who was not more than two -or three and twenty, they acknowledged considerable beauty; her -features were pretty, and she had a sharp quick eye, and a smartness -of air, which though it did not give actual elegance or grace, gave -distinction to her person. Their manners were particularly civil, and -Elinor soon allowed them credit for some kind of sense, when she saw -with what constant and judicious attention they were making themselves -agreeable to Lady Middleton. With her children they were in continual -raptures, extolling their beauty, courting their notice, and humouring -their whims; and such of their time as could be spared from the -importunate demands which this politeness made on it, was spent in -admiration of whatever her ladyship was doing, if she happened to be -doing any thing, or in taking patterns of some elegant new dress, in -which her appearance the day before had thrown them into unceasing -delight. Fortunately for those who pay their court through such -foibles, a fond mother, though, in pursuit of praise for her children, -the most rapacious of human beings, is likewise the most credulous; -her demands are exorbitant; but she will swallow any thing; and the -excessive affection and endurance of the Miss Steeles towards her -offspring were viewed therefore by Lady Middleton without the smallest -surprise or distrust. She saw with maternal complacency all the -impertinent encroachments and mischievous tricks to which her cousins -submitted. She saw their sashes untied, their hair pulled about their -ears, their work-bags searched, and their knives and scissors stolen -away, and felt no doubt of its being a reciprocal enjoyment. It -suggested no other surprise than that Elinor and Marianne should sit -so composedly by, without claiming a share in what was passing. - -"John is in such spirits today!" said she, on his taking Miss Steele's -pocket handkerchief, and throwing it out of window--"He is full of -monkey tricks." - -And soon afterwards, on the second boy's violently pinching one of the -same lady's fingers, she fondly observed, "How playful William is!" - -[Illustration: _Mischievous tricks._] - -"And here is my sweet little Annamaria," she added, tenderly caressing -a little girl of three years old, who had not made a noise for the -last two minutes; "And she is always so gentle and quiet--Never was -there such a quiet little thing!" - -But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces, a pin in her ladyship's -head dress slightly scratching the child's neck, produced from this -pattern of gentleness such violent screams, as could hardly be outdone -by any creature professedly noisy. The mother's consternation was -excessive; but it could not surpass the alarm of the Miss Steeles, and -every thing was done by all three, in so critical an emergency, which -affection could suggest as likely to assuage the agonies of the little -sufferer. She was seated in her mother's lap, covered with kisses, her -wound bathed with lavender-water, by one of the Miss Steeles, who was -on her knees to attend her, and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by -the other. With such a reward for her tears, the child was too wise to -cease crying. She still screamed and sobbed lustily, kicked her two -brothers for offering to touch her, and all their united soothings -were ineffectual till Lady Middleton luckily remembering that in a -scene of similar distress last week, some apricot marmalade had been -successfully applied for a bruised temple, the same remedy was eagerly -proposed for this unfortunate scratch, and a slight intermission of -screams in the young lady on hearing it, gave them reason to hope that -it would not be rejected. She was carried out of the room therefore in -her mother's arms, in quest of this medicine, and as the two boys -chose to follow, though earnestly entreated by their mother to stay -behind, the four young ladies were left in a quietness which the room -had not known for many hours. - -"Poor little creatures!" said Miss Steele, as soon as they were gone. -"It might have been a very sad accident." - -"Yet I hardly know how," cried Marianne, "unless it had been under -totally different circumstances. But this is the usual way of -heightening alarm, where there is nothing to be alarmed at in -reality." - -"What a sweet woman Lady Middleton is!" said Lucy Steele. - -Marianne was silent; it was impossible for her to say what she did not -feel, however trivial the occasion; and upon Elinor therefore the -whole task of telling lies when politeness required it, always fell. -She did her best when thus called on, by speaking of Lady Middleton -with more warmth than she felt, though with far less than Miss Lucy. - -"And Sir John too," cried the elder sister, "what a charming man he -is!" - -Here too, Miss Dashwood's commendation, being only simple and just, -came in without any eclat. She merely observed that he was perfectly -good humoured and friendly. - -"And what a charming little family they have! I never saw such fine -children in my life. I declare I quite doat upon them already, and -indeed I am always distractedly fond of children." - -"I should guess so," said Elinor, with a smile, "from what I have -witnessed this morning." - -"I have a notion," said Lucy, "you think the little Middletons rather -too much indulged; perhaps they may be the outside of enough; but it -is so natural in Lady Middleton; and for my part, I love to see -children full of life and spirits; I cannot bear them if they are tame -and quiet." - -"I confess," replied Elinor, "that while I am at Barton Park, I never -think of tame and quiet children with any abhorrence." - -A short pause succeeded this speech, which was first broken by Miss -Steele, who seemed very much disposed for conversation, and who now -said rather abruptly, "And how do you like Devonshire, Miss Dashwood? -I suppose you were very sorry to leave Sussex." - -In some surprise at the familiarity of this question, or at least of -the manner in which it was spoken, Elinor replied that she was. - -"Norland is a prodigious beautiful place, is not it?" added Miss -Steele. - -"We have heard Sir John admire it excessively," said Lucy, who seemed -to think some apology necessary for the freedom of her sister. - -"I think every one _must_ admire it," replied Elinor, "who ever saw -the place; though it is not to be supposed that any one can estimate -its beauties as we do." - -"And had you a great many smart beaux there? I suppose you have not so -many in this part of the world; for my part, I think they are a vast -addition always." - -"But why should you think," said Lucy, looking ashamed of her sister, -"that there are not as many genteel young men in Devonshire as -Sussex?" - -"Nay, my dear, I'm sure I don't pretend to say that there an't. I'm -sure there's a vast many smart beaux in Exeter; but you know, how -could I tell what smart beaux there might be about Norland; and I was -only afraid the Miss Dashwoods might find it dull at Barton, if they -had not so many as they used to have. But perhaps you young ladies may -not care about the beaux, and had as lief be without them as with -them. For my part, I think they are vastly agreeable, provided they -dress smart and behave civil. But I can't bear to see them dirty and -nasty. Now there's Mr. Rose at Exeter, a prodigious smart young man, -quite a beau, clerk to Mr. Simpson, you know, and yet if you do but -meet him of a morning, he is not fit to be seen. I suppose your -brother was quite a beau, Miss Dashwood, before he married, as he was -so rich?" - -"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "I cannot tell you, for I do not -perfectly comprehend the meaning of the word. But this I can say, that -if he ever was a beau before he married, he is one still for there is -not the smallest alteration in him." - -"Oh! dear! one never thinks of married men's being beaux--they have -something else to do." - -"Lord! Anne," cried her sister, "you can talk of nothing but -beaux;--you will make Miss Dashwood believe you think of nothing -else." And then to turn the discourse, she began admiring the house -and the furniture. - -This specimen of the Miss Steeles was enough. The vulgar freedom and -folly of the eldest left her no recommendation, and as Elinor was not -blinded by the beauty, or the shrewd look of the youngest, to her want -of real elegance and artlessness, she left the house without any wish -of knowing them better. - -Not so the Miss Steeles. They came from Exeter, well provided with -admiration for the use of Sir John Middleton, his family, and all his -relations, and no niggardly proportion was now dealt out to his fair -cousins, whom they declared to be the most beautiful, elegant, -accomplished, and agreeable girls they had ever beheld, and with whom -they were particularly anxious to be better acquainted. And to be -better acquainted therefore, Elinor soon found was their inevitable -lot, for as Sir John was entirely on the side of the Miss Steeles, -their party would be too strong for opposition, and that kind of -intimacy must be submitted to, which consists of sitting an hour or -two together in the same room almost every day. Sir John could do no -more; but he did not know that any more was required: to be together -was, in his opinion, to be intimate, and while his continual schemes -for their meeting were effectual, he had not a doubt of their being -established friends. - -To do him justice, he did every thing in his power to promote their -unreserve, by making the Miss Steeles acquainted with whatever he knew -or supposed of his cousins' situations in the most delicate -particulars,--and Elinor had not seen them more than twice, before the -eldest of them wished her joy on her sister's having been so lucky as -to make a conquest of a very smart beau since she came to Barton. - -"'Twill be a fine thing to have her married so young to be sure," said -she, "and I hear he is quite a beau, and prodigious handsome. And I -hope you may have as good luck yourself soon,--but perhaps you may -have a friend in the corner already." - -Elinor could not suppose that Sir John would be more nice in -proclaiming his suspicions of her regard for Edward, than he had been -with respect to Marianne; indeed it was rather his favourite joke of -the two, as being somewhat newer and more conjectural; and since -Edward's visit, they had never dined together without his drinking to -her best affections with so much significancy and so many nods and -winks, as to excite general attention. The letter F had been likewise -invariably brought forward, and found productive of such countless -jokes, that its character as the wittiest letter in the alphabet had -been long established with Elinor. - -The Miss Steeles, as she expected, had now all the benefit of these -jokes, and in the eldest of them they raised a curiosity to know the -name of the gentleman alluded to, which, though often impertinently -expressed, was perfectly of a piece with her general inquisitiveness -into the concerns of their family. But Sir John did not sport long -with the curiosity which he delighted to raise, for he had at least as -much pleasure in telling the name, as Miss Steele had in hearing it. - -"His name is Ferrars," said he, in a very audible whisper; "but pray -do not tell it, for it's a great secret." - -[Illustration: _Drinking to her best affections._] - -"Ferrars!" repeated Miss Steele; "Mr. Ferrars is the happy man, is he? -What! your sister-in-law's brother, Miss Dashwood? a very agreeable -young man to be sure; I know him very well." - -"How can you say so, Anne?" cried Lucy, who generally made an -amendment to all her sister's assertions. "Though we have seen him -once or twice at my uncle's, it is rather too much to pretend to know -him very well." - -Elinor heard all this with attention and surprise. "And who was this -uncle? Where did he live? How came they acquainted?" She wished very -much to have the subject continued, though she did not choose to join -in it herself; but nothing more of it was said, and for the first time -in her life, she thought Mrs. Jennings deficient either in curiosity -after petty information, or in a disposition to communicate it. The -manner in which Miss Steele had spoken of Edward, increased her -curiosity; for it struck her as being rather ill-natured, and -suggested the suspicion of that lady's knowing, or fancying herself to -know something to his disadvantage. But her curiosity was unavailing, -for no farther notice was taken of Mr. Ferrars's name by Miss Steele -when alluded to, or even openly mentioned by Sir John. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -Marianne, who had never much toleration for any thing like -impertinence, vulgarity, inferiority of parts, or even difference of -taste from herself, was at this time particularly ill-disposed, from -the state of her spirits, to be pleased with the Miss Steeles, or to -encourage their advances; and to the invariable coldness of her -behaviour towards them, which checked every endeavour at intimacy on -their side, Elinor principally attributed that preference of herself -which soon became evident in the manners of both, but especially of -Lucy, who missed no opportunity of engaging her in conversation, or of -striving to improve their acquaintance by an easy and frank -communication of her sentiments. - -Lucy was naturally clever; her remarks were often just and amusing; -and as a companion for half an hour Elinor frequently found her -agreeable; but her powers had received no aid from education: she was -ignorant and illiterate; and her deficiency of all mental improvement, -her want of information in the most common particulars, could not be -concealed from Miss Dashwood, in spite of her constant endeavour to -appear to advantage. Elinor saw, and pitied her for, the neglect of -abilities which education might have rendered so respectable; but she -saw, with less tenderness of feeling, the thorough want of delicacy, -of rectitude, and integrity of mind, which her attentions, her -assiduities, her flatteries at the Park betrayed; and she could have -no lasting satisfaction in the company of a person who joined -insincerity with ignorance; whose want of instruction prevented their -meeting in conversation on terms of equality, and whose conduct toward -others made every show of attention and deference towards herself -perfectly valueless. - -"You will think my question an odd one, I dare say," said Lucy to her -one day, as they were walking together from the park to the -cottage--"but pray, are you personally acquainted with your -sister-in-law's mother, Mrs. Ferrars?" - -Elinor _did_ think the question a very odd one, and her countenance -expressed it, as she answered that she had never seen Mrs. Ferrars. - -"Indeed!" replied Lucy; "I wonder at that, for I thought you must have -seen her at Norland sometimes. Then, perhaps, you cannot tell me what -sort of a woman she is?" - -"No," returned Elinor, cautious of giving her real opinion of Edward's -mother, and not very desirous of satisfying what seemed impertinent -curiosity; "I know nothing of her." - -"I am sure you think me very strange, for enquiring about her in such -a way," said Lucy, eyeing Elinor attentively as she spoke; "but -perhaps there may be reasons--I wish I might venture; but however I -hope you will do me the justice of believing that I do not mean to be -impertinent." - -Elinor made her a civil reply, and they walked on for a few minutes in -silence. It was broken by Lucy, who renewed the subject again by -saying, with some hesitation-- - -"I cannot bear to have you think me impertinently curious. I am sure I -would rather do any thing in the world than be thought so by a person -whose good opinion is so well worth having as yours. And I am sure I -should not have the smallest fear of trusting _you_; indeed, I should -be very glad of your advice how to manage in such and uncomfortable -situation as I am; but, however, there is no occasion to trouble -_you._ I am sorry you do not happen to know Mrs. Ferrars." - -"I am sorry I do _not_," said Elinor, in great astonishment, "if it -could be of any use to _you_ to know my opinion of her. But really I -never understood that you were at all connected with that family, and -therefore I am a little surprised, I confess, at so serious an inquiry -into her character." - -"I dare say you are, and I am sure I do not at all wonder at it. But -if I dared tell you all, you would not be so much surprised. Mrs. -Ferrars is certainly nothing to me at present--but the time _may_ -come--how soon it will come must depend upon herself--when we may be -very intimately connected." - -She looked down as she said this, amiably bashful, with only one side -glance at her companion to observe its effect on her. - -"Good heavens!" cried Elinor, "what do you mean? Are you acquainted -with Mr. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?" And she did not feel much -delighted with the idea of such a sister-in-law. - -"No," replied Lucy, "not to Mr. _Robert_ Ferrars--I never saw him in -my life; but," fixing her eyes upon Elinor, "to his eldest brother." - -What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment, that would have been as -painful as it was strong, had not an immediate disbelief of the -assertion attended it. She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement, -unable to divine the reason or object of such a declaration; and -though her complexion varied, she stood firm in incredulity, and felt -in no danger of an hysterical fit, or a swoon. - -"You may well be surprised," continued Lucy; "for to be sure you could -have had no idea of it before; for I dare say he never dropped the -smallest hint of it to you or any of your family; because it was -always meant to be a great secret, and I am sure has been faithfully -kept so by me to this hour. Not a soul of all my relations know of it -but Anne, and I never should have mentioned it to you, if I had not -felt the greatest dependence in the world upon your secrecy; and I -really thought my behaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. -Ferrars must seem so odd, that it ought to be explained. And I do not -think Mr. Ferrars can be displeased, when he knows I have trusted -you, because I know he has the highest opinion in the world of all -your family, and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods -quite as his own sisters."--She paused. - -[Illustration: _Amiably bashful._] - -Elinor for a few moments remained silent. Her astonishment at what she -heard was at first too great for words; but at length forcing herself -to speak, and to speak cautiously, she said, with calmness of manner, -which tolerably well concealed her surprise and solicitude--"May I ask -if your engagement is of long standing?" - -"We have been engaged these four years." - -"Four years!" - -"Yes." - -Elinor, though greatly shocked, still felt unable to believe it. - -"I did not know," said she, "that you were even acquainted till the -other day." - -"Our acquaintance, however, is of many years date. He was under my -uncle's care, you know, a considerable while." - -"Your uncle!" - -"Yes; Mr. Pratt. Did you never hear him talk of Mr. Pratt?" - -"I think I have," replied Elinor, with an exertion of spirits, which -increased with her increase of emotion. - -"He was four years with my uncle, who lives at Longstaple, near -Plymouth. It was there our acquaintance begun, for my sister and me -was often staying with my uncle, and it was there our engagement was -formed, though not till a year after he had quitted as a pupil; but he -was almost always with us afterwards. I was very unwilling to enter -into it, as you may imagine, without the knowledge and approbation of -his mother; but I was too young, and loved him too well, to be so -prudent as I ought to have been. Though you do not know him so well as -me, Miss Dashwood, you must have seen enough of him to be sensible he -is very capable of making a woman sincerely attached to him." - -"Certainly," answered Elinor, without knowing what she said; but after -a moment's reflection, she added, with revived security of Edward's -honour and love, and her companion's falsehood--"Engaged to Mr. Edward -Ferrars!--I confess myself so totally surprised at what you tell me, -that really--I beg your pardon; but surely there must be some mistake -of person or name. We cannot mean the same Mr. Ferrars." - -"We can mean no other," cried Lucy, smiling. "Mr. Edward Ferrars, the -eldest son of Mrs. Ferrars, of Park Street, and brother of your -sister-in-law, Mrs. John Dashwood, is the person I mean; you must -allow that I am not likely to be deceived as to the name of the man on -who all my happiness depends." - -"It is strange," replied Elinor, in a most painful perplexity, "that I -should never have heard him even mention your name." - -"No; considering our situation, it was not strange. Our first care has -been to keep the matter secret. You knew nothing of me, or my family, -and, therefore, there could be no _occasion_ for ever mentioning my -name to you; and, as he was always particularly afraid of his sister's -suspecting any thing, _that_ was reason enough for his not mentioning -it." - -She was silent. Elinor's security sunk; but her self-command did not -sink with it. - -"Four years you have been engaged," said she with a firm voice. - -"Yes; and heaven knows how much longer we may have to wait. Poor -Edward! It puts him quite out of heart." Then taking a small miniature -from her pocket, she added, "To prevent the possibility of mistake, be -so good as to look at this face. It does not do him justice, to be -sure, but yet I think you cannot be deceived as to the person it was -drew for. I have had it above these three years." - -She put it into her hands as she spoke; and when Elinor saw the -painting, whatever other doubts her fear of a too hasty decision, or -her wish of detecting falsehood might suffer to linger in her mind, -she could have none of its being Edward's face. She returned it almost -instantly, acknowledging the likeness. - -"I have never been able," continued Lucy, "to give him my picture in -return, which I am very much vexed at, for he has been always so -anxious to get it! But I am determined to set for it the very first -opportunity." - -"You are quite in the right," replied Elinor calmly. They then -proceeded a few paces in silence. Lucy spoke first. - -"I am sure," said she, "I have no doubt in the world of your -faithfully keeping this secret, because you must know of what -importance it is to us, not to have it reach his mother; for she -would never approve of it, I dare say. I shall have no fortune, and I -fancy she is an exceeding proud woman." - -"I certainly did not seek your confidence," said Elinor; "but you do -me no more than justice in imagining that I may be depended on. Your -secret is safe with me; but pardon me if I express some surprise at so -unnecessary a communication. You must at least have felt that my being -acquainted with it could not add to its safety." - -As she said this, she looked earnestly at Lucy, hoping to discover -something in her countenance; perhaps the falsehood of the greatest -part of what she had been saying; but Lucy's countenance suffered no -change. - -"I was afraid you would think I was taking a great liberty with you," -said she, "in telling you all this. I have not known you long to be -sure, personally at least, but I have known you and all your family by -description a great while; and as soon as I saw you, I felt almost as -if you was an old acquaintance. Besides in the present case, I really -thought some explanation was due to you after my making such -particular inquiries about Edward's mother; and I am so unfortunate, -that I have not a creature whose advice I can ask. Anne is the only -person that knows of it, and she has no judgment at all; indeed, she -does me a great deal more harm than good, for I am in constant fear of -her betraying me. She does not know how to hold her tongue, as you -must perceive, and I am sure I was in the greatest fright in the world -t'other day, when Edward's name was mentioned by Sir John, lest she -should out with it all. You can't think how much I go through in my -mind from it altogether. I only wonder that I am alive after what I -have suffered for Edward's sake these last four years. Every thing in -such suspense and uncertainty; and seeing him so seldom--we can hardly -meet above twice a-year. I am sure I wonder my heart is not quite -broke." - -Here she took out her handkerchief; but Elinor did not feel very -compassionate. - -"Sometimes," continued Lucy, after wiping her eyes, "I think whether -it would not be better for us both to break off the matter entirely." -As she said this, she looked directly at her companion. "But then at -other times I have not resolution enough for it. I cannot bear the -thoughts of making him so miserable, as I know the very mention of -such a thing would do. And on my own account too--so dear as he is to -me--I don't think I could be equal to it. What would you advise me to -do in such a case, Miss Dashwood? What would you do yourself?" - -"Pardon me," replied Elinor, startled by the question; "but I can give -you no advice under such circumstances. Your own judgment must direct -you." - -"To be sure," continued Lucy, after a few minutes silence on both -sides, "his mother must provide for him sometime or other; but poor -Edward is so cast down by it! Did you not think him dreadful -low-spirited when he was at Barton? He was so miserable when he left -us at Longstaple, to go to you, that I was afraid you would think him -quite ill." - -"Did he come from your uncle's, then, when he visited us?" - -"Oh, yes; he had been staying a fortnight with us. Did you think he -came directly from town?" - -"No," replied Elinor, most feelingly sensible of every fresh -circumstance in favour of Lucy's veracity; "I remember he told us, -that he had been staying a fortnight with some friends near Plymouth." -She remembered too, her own surprise at the time, at his mentioning -nothing farther of those friends, at his total silence with respect -even to their names. - -"Did not you think him sadly out of spirits?" repeated Lucy. - -"We did, indeed, particularly so when he first arrived." - -"I begged him to exert himself for fear you should suspect what was -the matter; but it made him so melancholy, not being able to stay more -than a fortnight with us, and seeing me so much affected. Poor -fellow!--I am afraid it is just the same with him now; for he writes -in wretched spirits. I heard from him just before I left Exeter;" -taking a letter from her pocket and carelessly showing the direction -to Elinor. "You know his hand, I dare say, a charming one it is; but -that is not written so well as usual. He was tired, I dare say, for he -had just filled the sheet to me as full as possible." - -Elinor saw that it _was_ his hand, and she could doubt no longer. This -picture, she had allowed herself to believe, might have been -accidentally obtained; it might not have been Edward's gift; but a -correspondence between them by letter, could subsist only under a -positive engagement, could be authorised by nothing else; for a few -moments, she was almost overcome--her heart sunk within her, and she -could hardly stand; but exertion was indispensably necessary; and she -struggled so resolutely against the oppression of her feelings, that -her success was speedy, and for the time complete. - -"Writing to each other," said Lucy, returning the letter into her -pocket, "is the only comfort we have in such long separations. Yes, I -have one other comfort in his picture, but poor Edward has not even -_that._ If he had but my picture, he says he should be easy. I gave -him a lock of my hair set in a ring when he was at Longstaple last, -and that was some comfort to him, he said, but not equal to a picture. -Perhaps you might notice the ring when you saw him?" - -"I did," said Elinor, with a composure of voice, under which was -concealed an emotion and distress beyond any thing she had ever felt -before. She was mortified, shocked, confounded. - -Fortunately for her, they had now reached the cottage, and the -conversation could be continued no farther. After sitting with them a -few minutes, the Miss Steeles returned to the Park, and Elinor was -then at liberty to think and be wretched. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -However small Elinor's general dependence on Lucy's veracity might be, -it was impossible for her on serious reflection to suspect it in the -present case, where no temptation could be answerable to the folly of -inventing a falsehood of such a description. What Lucy had asserted to -be true, therefore, Elinor could not, dared not longer doubt; -supported as it was too on every side by such probabilities and -proofs, and contradicted by nothing but her own wishes. Their -opportunity of acquaintance in the house of Mr. Pratt was a foundation -for the rest, at once indisputable and alarming; and Edward's visit -near Plymouth, his melancholy state of mind, his dissatisfaction at -his own prospects, his uncertain behaviour towards herself, the -intimate knowledge of the Miss Steeles as to Norland and their family -connections, which had often surprised her, the picture, the letter, -the ring, formed altogether such a body of evidence, as overcame -every fear of condemning him unfairly, and established as a fact, -which no partiality could set aside, his ill-treatment of herself. Her -resentment of such behaviour, her indignation at having been its dupe, -for a short time made her feel only for herself; but other ideas, -other considerations, soon arose. Had Edward been intentionally -deceiving her? Had he feigned a regard for her which he did not feel? -Was his engagement to Lucy an engagement of the heart? No; whatever it -might once have been, she could not believe it such at present. His -affection was all her own. She could not be deceived in that. Her -mother, sisters, Fanny, all had been conscious of his regard for her -at Norland; it was not an illusion of her own vanity. He certainly -loved her. What a softener of the heart was this persuasion! How much -could it not tempt her to forgive! He had been blamable, highly -blamable, in remaining at Norland after he first felt her influence -over him to be more than it ought to be. In that, he could not be -defended; but if he had injured her, how much more had he injured -himself; if her case were pitiable, his was hopeless. His imprudence -had made her miserable for a while; but it seemed to have deprived -himself of all chance of ever being otherwise. She might in time -regain tranquillity; but _he_, what had he to look forward to? Could -he ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele; could he, were his -affection for herself out of the question, with his integrity, his -delicacy, and well-informed mind, be satisfied with a wife like -her--illiterate, artful, and selfish? - -The youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally blind him to -every thing but her beauty and good nature; but the four succeeding -years--years, which if rationally spent, give such improvement to the -understanding, must have opened his eyes to her defects of education, -while the same period of time, spent on her side in inferior society -and more frivolous pursuits, had perhaps robbed her of that simplicity -which might once have given an interesting character to her beauty. - -If in the supposition of his seeking to marry herself, his -difficulties from his mother had seemed great, how much greater were -they now likely to be, when the object of his engagement was -undoubtedly inferior in connections, and probably inferior in fortune -to herself. These difficulties, indeed, with a heart so alienated -from Lucy, might not press very hard upon his patience; but melancholy -was the state of the person by whom the expectation of family -opposition and unkindness, could be felt as a relief! - -As these considerations occurred to her in painful succession, she -wept for him, more than for herself. Supported by the conviction of -having done nothing to merit her present unhappiness, and consoled by -the belief that Edward had done nothing to forfeit her esteem, she -thought she could even now, under the first smart of the heavy blow, -command herself enough to guard every suspicion of the truth from her -mother and sisters. And so well was she able to answer her own -expectations, that when she joined them at dinner only two hours after -she had first suffered the extinction of all her dearest hopes, no one -would have supposed from the appearance of the sisters, that Elinor -was mourning in secret over obstacles which must divide her for ever -from the object of her love, and that Marianne was internally dwelling -on the perfections of a man, of whose whole heart she felt thoroughly -possessed, and whom she expected to see in every carriage which drove -near their house. - -The necessity of concealing from her mother and Marianne, what had -been entrusted in confidence to herself, though it obliged her to -unceasing exertion, was no aggravation of Elinor's distress. On the -contrary it was a relief to her, to be spared the communication of -what would give such affliction to them, and to be saved likewise from -hearing that condemnation of Edward, which would probably flow from -the excess of their partial affection for herself, and which was more -than she felt equal to support. - -From their counsel, or their conversation, she knew she could receive -no assistance, their tenderness and sorrow must add to her distress, -while her self-command would neither receive encouragement from their -example nor from their praise. She was stronger alone, and her own -good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken, -her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as with regrets so -poignant and so fresh, it was possible for them to be. - -Much as she had suffered from her first conversation with Lucy on the -subject, she soon felt an earnest wish of renewing it; and this for -more reasons than one. She wanted to hear many particulars of their -engagement repeated again, she wanted more clearly to understand what -Lucy really felt for Edward, whether there were any sincerity in her -declaration of tender regard for him, and she particularly wanted to -convince Lucy, by her readiness to enter on the matter again, and her -calmness in conversing on it, that she was no otherwise interested in -it than as a friend, which she very much feared her involuntary -agitation, in their morning discourse, must have left at least -doubtful. That Lucy was disposed to be jealous of her appeared very -probable: it was plain that Edward had always spoken highly in her -praise, not merely from Lucy's assertion, but from her venturing to -trust her on so short a personal acquaintance, with a secret so -confessedly and evidently important. And even Sir John's joking -intelligence must have had some weight. But indeed, while Elinor -remained so well assured within herself of being really beloved by -Edward, it required no other consideration of probabilities to make it -natural that Lucy should be jealous; and that she was so, her very -confidence was a proof. What other reason for the disclosure of the -affair could there be, but that Elinor might be informed by it of -Lucy's superior claims on Edward, and be taught to avoid him in -future? She had little difficulty in understanding thus much of her -rival's intentions, and while she was firmly resolved to act by her as -every principle of honour and honesty directed, to combat her own -affection for Edward and to see him as little as possible; she could -not deny herself the comfort of endeavouring to convince Lucy that her -heart was unwounded. And as she could now have nothing more painful to -hear on the subject than had already been told, she did not mistrust -her own ability of going through a repetition of particulars with -composure. - -But it was not immediately that an opportunity of doing so could be -commanded, though Lucy was as well disposed as herself to take -advantage of any that occurred; for the weather was not often fine -enough to allow of their joining in a walk, where they might most -easily separate themselves from the others; and though they met at -least every other evening either at the park or cottage, and chiefly -at the former, they could not be supposed to meet for the sake of -conversation. Such a thought would never enter either Sir John or -Lady Middleton's head; and therefore very little leisure was ever -given for a general chat, and none at all for particular discourse. -They met for the sake of eating, drinking, and laughing together, -playing at cards, or consequences, or any other game that was -sufficiently noisy. - -One or two meetings of this kind had taken place, without affording -Elinor any chance of engaging Lucy in private, when Sir John called at -the cottage one morning, to beg, in the name of charity, that they -would all dine with Lady Middleton that day, as he was obliged to -attend the club at Exeter, and she would otherwise be quite alone, -except her mother and the two Miss Steeles. Elinor, who foresaw a -fairer opening for the point she had in view, in such a party as this -was likely to be, more at liberty among themselves under the tranquil -and well-bred direction of Lady Middleton than when her husband united -them together in one noisy purpose, immediately accepted the -invitation; Margaret, with her mother's permission, was equally -compliant, and Marianne, though always unwilling to join any of their -parties, was persuaded by her mother, who could not bear to have her -seclude herself from any chance of amusement, to go likewise. - -The young ladies went, and Lady Middleton was happily preserved from -the frightful solitude which had threatened her. The insipidity of the -meeting was exactly such as Elinor had expected; it produced not one -novelty of thought or expression, and nothing could be less -interesting than the whole of their discourse both in the dining -parlour and drawing room: to the latter, the children accompanied -them, and while they remained there, she was too well convinced of the -impossibility of engaging Lucy's attention to attempt it. They quitted -it only with the removal of the tea-things. The card-table was then -placed, and Elinor began to wonder at herself for having ever -entertained a hope of finding time for conversation at the park. They -all rose up in preparation for a round game. - -"I am glad," said Lady Middleton to Lucy, "you are not going to finish -poor little Annamaria's basket this evening; for I am sure it must -hurt your eyes to work filigree by candlelight. And we will make the -dear little love some amends for her disappointment to-morrow, and -then I hope she will not much mind it." - -This hint was enough, Lucy recollected herself instantly and replied, -"Indeed you are very much mistaken, Lady Middleton; I am only waiting -to know whether you can make your party without me, or I should have -been at my filigree already. I would not disappoint the little angel -for all the world: and if you want me at the card-table now, I am -resolved to finish the basket after supper." - -"You are very good, I hope it won't hurt your eyes:--will you ring the -bell for some working candles? My poor little girl would be sadly -disappointed, I know, if the basket was not finished tomorrow, for -though I told her it certainly would not, I am sure she depends upon -having it done." - -Lucy directly drew her work table near her and reseated herself with -an alacrity and cheerfulness which seemed to infer that she could -taste no greater delight than in making a filigree basket for a spoilt -child. - -Lady Middleton proposed a rubber of Casino to the others. No one made -any objection but Marianne, who with her usual inattention to the -forms of general civility, exclaimed, "Your Ladyship will have the -goodness to excuse _me_--you know I detest cards. I shall go to the -piano-forte; I have not touched it since it was tuned." And without -farther ceremony, she turned away and walked to the instrument. - -Lady Middleton looked as if she thanked heaven that _she_ had never -made so rude a speech. - -"Marianne can never keep long from that instrument you know, ma'am," -said Elinor, endeavouring to smooth away the offence; "and I do not -much wonder at it; for it is the very best toned piano-forte I ever -heard." - -The remaining five were now to draw their cards. - -"Perhaps," continued Elinor, "if I should happen to cut out, I may be -of some use to Miss Lucy Steele, in rolling her papers for her; and -there is so much still to be done to the basket, that it must be -impossible I think for her labour singly, to finish it this evening. I -should like the work exceedingly, if she would allow me a share in -it." - -"Indeed I shall be very much obliged to you for your help," cried -Lucy, "for I find there is more to be done to it than I thought there -was; and it would be a shocking thing to disappoint dear Annamaria -after all." - -"Oh! that would be terrible, indeed," said Miss Steele. "Dear little -soul, how I do love her!" - -"You are very kind," said Lady Middleton to Elinor; "and as you -really like the work, perhaps you will be as well pleased not to cut -in till another rubber, or will you take your chance now?" - -Elinor joyfully profited by the first of these proposals, and thus by -a little of that address which Marianne could never condescend to -practise, gained her own end, and pleased Lady Middleton at the same -time. Lucy made room for her with ready attention, and the two fair -rivals were thus seated side by side at the same table, and, with the -utmost harmony, engaged in forwarding the same work. The pianoforte at -which Marianne, wrapped up in her own music and her own thoughts, had -by this time forgotten that any body was in the room besides herself, -was luckily so near them that Miss Dashwood now judged she might -safely, under the shelter of its noise, introduce the interesting -subject, without any risk of being heard at the card-table. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -In a firm, though cautious tone, Elinor thus began. - -"I should be undeserving of the confidence you have honoured me with, -if I felt no desire for its continuance, or no farther curiosity on -its subject. I will not apologize therefore for bringing it forward -again." - -"Thank you," cried Lucy warmly, "for breaking the ice; you have set my -heart at ease by it; for I was somehow or other afraid I had offended -you by what I told you that Monday." - -"Offended me! How could you suppose so? Believe me," and Elinor spoke -it with the truest sincerity, "nothing could be farther from my -intention than to give you such an idea. Could you have a motive for -the trust, that was not honourable and flattering to me?" - -"And yet I do assure you," replied Lucy, her little sharp eyes full of -meaning, "there seemed to me to be a coldness and displeasure in your -manner that made me quite uncomfortable. I felt sure that you was -angry with me; and have been quarrelling with myself ever since, for -having took such a liberty as to trouble you with my affairs. But I am -very glad to find it was only my own fancy, and that you really do not -blame me. If you knew what a consolation it was to me to relieve my -heart speaking to you of what I am always thinking of every moment of -my life, your compassion would make you overlook every thing else I am -sure." - -"Indeed, I can easily believe that it was a very great relief to you, -to acknowledge your situation to me, and be assured that you shall -never have reason to repent it. Your case is a very unfortunate one; -you seem to me to be surrounded with difficulties, and you will have -need of all your mutual affection to support you under them. Mr. -Ferrars, I believe, is entirely dependent on his mother." - -"He has only two thousand pounds of his own; it would be madness to -marry upon that, though for my own part, I could give up every -prospect of more without a sigh. I have been always used to a very -small income, and could struggle with any poverty for him; but I love -him too well to be the selfish means of robbing him, perhaps, of all -that his mother might give him if he married to please her. We must -wait, it may be for many years. With almost every other man in the -world, it would be an alarming prospect; but Edward's affection and -constancy nothing can deprive me of I know." - -"That conviction must be every thing to you; and he is undoubtedly -supported by the same trust in your's. If the strength of your -reciprocal attachment had failed, as between many people, and under -many circumstances it naturally would during a four years' engagement, -your situation would have been pitiable, indeed." - -Lucy here looked up; but Elinor was careful in guarding her -countenance from every expression that could give her words a -suspicious tendency. - -"Edward's love for me," said Lucy, "has been pretty well put to the -test, by our long, very long absence since we were first engaged, and -it has stood the trial so well, that I should be unpardonable to doubt -it now. I can safely say that he has never gave me one moment's alarm -on that account from the first." - -Elinor hardly knew whether to smile or sigh at this assertion. - -Lucy went on. "I am rather of a jealous temper too by nature, and from -our different situations in life, from his being so much more in the -world than me, and our continual separation, I was enough inclined for -suspicion, to have found out the truth in an instant, if there had -been the slightest alteration in his behaviour to me when we met, or -any lowness of spirits that I could not account for, or if he had -talked more of one lady than another, or seemed in any respect less -happy at Longstaple than he used to be. I do not mean to say that I am -particularly observant or quick-sighted in general, but in such a case -I am sure I could not be deceived." - -"All this," thought Elinor, "is very pretty; but it can impose upon -neither of us." - -"But what," said she after a short silence, "are your views? or have -you none but that of waiting for Mrs. Ferrars's death, which is a -melancholy and shocking extremity?--Is her son determined to submit to -this, and to all the tediousness of the many years of suspense in -which it may involve you, rather than run the risk of her displeasure -for a while by owning the truth?" - -"If we could be certain that it would be only for a while! But Mrs. -Ferrars is a very headstrong proud woman, and in her first fit of -anger upon hearing it, would very likely secure every thing to Robert, -and the idea of that, for Edward's sake, frightens away all my -inclination for hasty measures." - -"And for your own sake too, or you are carrying your disinterestedness -beyond reason." - -Lucy looked at Elinor again, and was silent. - -"Do you know Mr. Robert Ferrars?" asked Elinor. - -"Not at all--I never saw him; but I fancy he is very unlike his -brother--silly and a great coxcomb." - -"A great coxcomb!" repeated Miss Steele, whose ear had caught those -words by a sudden pause in Marianne's music. "Oh, they are talking of -their favourite beaux, I dare say." - -"No sister," cried Lucy, "you are mistaken there, our favourite beaux -are _not_ great coxcombs." - -"I can answer for it that Miss Dashwood's is not," said Mrs. Jennings, -laughing heartily; "for he is one of the modestest, prettiest behaved -young men I ever saw; but as for Lucy, she is such a sly little -creature, there is no finding out who _she_ likes." - -[Illustration: "_I can answer for it," said Mrs. Jennings._] - -"Oh," cried Miss Steele, looking significantly round at them, "I dare -say Lucy's beau is quite as modest and pretty behaved as Miss -Dashwood's." - -Elinor blushed in spite of herself. Lucy bit her lip, and looked -angrily at her sister. A mutual silence took place for some time. Lucy -first put an end to it by saying in a lower tone, though Marianne was -then giving them the powerful protection of a very magnificent -concerto-- - -"I will honestly tell you of one scheme which has lately come into my -head, for bringing matters to bear; indeed I am bound to let you into -the secret, for you are a party concerned. I dare say you have seen -enough of Edward to know that he would prefer the church to every -other profession; now my plan is that he should take orders as soon as -he can, and then through your interest, which I am sure you would be -kind enough to use out of friendship for him, and I hope out of some -regard to me, your brother might be persuaded to give him Norland -living; which I understand is a very good one, and the present -incumbent not likely to live a great while. That would be enough for -us to marry upon, and we might trust to time and chance for the rest." - -"I should always be happy," replied Elinor, "to show any mark of my -esteem and friendship for Mr. Ferrars; but do you not perceive that my -interest on such an occasion would be perfectly unnecessary? He is -brother to Mrs. John Dashwood--_that_ must be recommendation enough to -her husband." - -"But Mrs. John Dashwood would not much approve of Edward's going into -orders." - -"Then I rather suspect that my interest would do very little." - -They were again silent for many minutes. At length Lucy exclaimed with -a deep sigh-- - -"I believe it would be the wisest way to put an end to the business at -once by dissolving the engagement. We seem so beset with difficulties -on every side, that though it would make us miserable for a time, we -should be happier perhaps in the end. But you will not give me your -advice, Miss Dashwood?" - -"No," answered Elinor, with a smile, which concealed very agitated -feelings, "on such a subject I certainly will not. You know very well -that my opinion would have no weight with you, unless it were on the -side of your wishes." - -"Indeed you wrong me," replied Lucy, with great solemnity; "I know -nobody of whose judgment I think so highly as I do of yours; and I do -really believe, that if you was to say to me, 'I advise you by all -means to put an end to your engagement with Edward Ferrars, it will be -more for the happiness of both of you,' I should resolve upon doing it -immediately." - -Elinor blushed for the insincerity of Edward's future wife, and -replied, "This compliment would effectually frighten me from giving -any opinion on the subject had I formed one. It raises my influence -much too high; the power of dividing two people so tenderly attached -is too much for an indifferent person." - -"'Tis because you are an indifferent person," said Lucy, with some -pique, and laying a particular stress on those words, "that your -judgment might justly have such weight with me. If you could be -supposed to be biased in any respect by your own feelings, your -opinion would not be worth having." - -Elinor thought it wisest to make no answer to this, lest they might -provoke each other to an unsuitable increase of ease and unreserve; -and was even partly determined never to mention the subject again. -Another pause therefore of many minutes' duration, succeeded this -speech, and Lucy was still the first to end it. - -"Shall you be in town this winter, Miss Dashwood?" said she with all -her accustomary complacency. - -"Certainly not." - -"I am sorry for that," returned the other, while her eyes brightened -at the information, "it would have gave me such pleasure to meet you -there! But I dare say you will go for all that. To be sure, your -brother and sister will ask you to come to them." - -"It will not be in my power to accept their invitation if they do." - -"How unlucky that is! I had quite depended upon meeting you there. -Anne and me are to go the latter end of January to some relations who -have been wanting us to visit them these several years! But I only go -for the sake of seeing Edward. He will be there in February, otherwise -London would have no charms for me; I have not spirits for it." - -Elinor was soon called to the card-table by the conclusion of the -first rubber, and the confidential discourse of the two ladies was -therefore at an end, to which both of them submitted without any -reluctance, for nothing had been said on either side to make them -dislike each other less than they had done before; and Elinor sat down -to the card table with the melancholy persuasion that Edward was not -only without affection for the person who was to be his wife; but that -he had not even the chance of being tolerably happy in marriage, which -sincere affection on _her_ side would have given, for self-interest -alone could induce a woman to keep a man to an engagement, of which -she seemed so thoroughly aware that he was weary. - -From this time the subject was never revived by Elinor, and when -entered on by Lucy, who seldom missed an opportunity of introducing -it, and was particularly careful to inform her confidante, of her -happiness whenever she received a letter from Edward, it was treated -by the former with calmness and caution, and dismissed as soon as -civility would allow; for she felt such conversations to be an -indulgence which Lucy did not deserve, and which were dangerous to -herself. - -The visit of the Miss Steeles at Barton Park was lengthened far beyond -what the first invitation implied. Their favour increased; they could -not be spared; Sir John would not hear of their going; and in spite of -their numerous and long arranged engagements in Exeter, in spite of -the absolute necessity of returning to fulfill them immediately, which -was in full force at the end of every week, they were prevailed on to -stay nearly two months at the park, and to assist in the due -celebration of that festival which requires a more than ordinary share -of private balls and large dinners to proclaim its importance. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -Though Mrs. Jennings was in the habit of spending a large portion of -the year at the houses of her children and friends, she was not -without a settled habitation of her own. Since the death of her -husband, who had traded with success in a less elegant part of the -town, she had resided every winter in a house in one of the streets -near Portman Square. Towards this home, she began on the approach of -January to turn her thoughts, and thither she one day abruptly, and -very unexpectedly by them, asked the elder Misses Dashwood to -accompany her. Elinor, without observing the varying complexion of her -sister, and the animated look which spoke no indifference to the plan, -immediately gave a grateful but absolute denial for both, in which she -believed herself to be speaking their united inclinations. The reason -alleged was their determined resolution of not leaving their mother at -that time of the year. Mrs. Jennings received the refusal with some -surprise, and repeated her invitation immediately. - -"Oh, Lord! I am sure your mother can spare you very well, and I _do_ -beg you will favour me with your company, for I've quite set my heart -upon it. Don't fancy that you will be any inconvenience to me, for I -shan't put myself at all out of my way for you. It will only be -sending Betty by the coach, and I hope I can afford _that._ We three -shall be able to go very well in my chaise; and when we are in town, -if you do not like to go wherever I do, well and good, you may always -go with one of my daughters. I am sure your mother will not object to -it; for I have had such good luck in getting my own children off my -hands that she will think me a very fit person to have the charge of -you; and if I don't get one of you at least well married before I have -done with you, it shall not be my fault. I shall speak a good word for -you to all the young men, you may depend upon it." - -"I have a notion," said Sir John, "that Miss Marianne would not object -to such a scheme, if her elder sister would come into it. It is very -hard indeed that she should not have a little pleasure, because Miss -Dashwood does not wish it. So I would advise you two, to set off for -town, when you are tired of Barton, without saying a word to Miss -Dashwood about it." - -"Nay," cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure I shall be monstrous glad of -Miss Marianne's company, whether Miss Dashwood will go or not, only -the more the merrier say I, and I thought it would be more comfortable -for them to be together; because, if they got tired of me, they might -talk to one another, and laugh at my old ways behind my back. But one -or the other, if not both of them, I must have. Lord bless me! how do -you think I can live poking by myself, I who have been always used -till this winter to have Charlotte with me. Come, Miss Marianne, let -us strike hands upon the bargain, and if Miss Dashwood will change her -mind by and bye, why so much the better." - -"I thank you, ma'am, sincerely thank you," said Marianne, with warmth: -"your invitation has insured my gratitude for ever, and it would give -me such happiness, yes, almost the greatest happiness I am capable of, -to be able to accept it. But my mother, my dearest, kindest mother,--I -feel the justice of what Elinor has urged, and if she were to be made -less happy, less comfortable by our absence--Oh! no, nothing should -tempt me to leave her. It should not, must not be a struggle." - -Mrs. Jennings repeated her assurance that Mrs. Dashwood could spare -them perfectly well; and Elinor, who now understood her sister, and -saw to what indifference to almost every thing else she was carried by -her eagerness to be with Willoughby again, made no farther direct -opposition to the plan, and merely referred it to her mother's -decision, from whom however she scarcely expected to receive any -support in her endeavour to prevent a visit, which she could not -approve of for Marianne, and which on her own account she had -particular reasons to avoid. Whatever Marianne was desirous of, her -mother would be eager to promote--she could not expect to influence -the latter to cautiousness of conduct in an affair respecting which -she had never been able to inspire her with distrust; and she dared -not explain the motive of her own disinclination for going to London. -That Marianne, fastidious as she was, thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. -Jennings' manners, and invariably disgusted by them, should overlook -every inconvenience of that kind, should disregard whatever must be -most wounding to her irritable feelings, in her pursuit of one object, -was such a proof, so strong, so full, of the importance of that object -to her, as Elinor, in spite of all that had passed, was not prepared -to witness. - -On being informed of the invitation, Mrs. Dashwood, persuaded that -such an excursion would be productive of much amusement to both her -daughters, and perceiving through all her affectionate attention to -herself, how much the heart of Marianne was in it, would not hear of -their declining the offer upon _her_ account; insisted on their both -accepting it directly; and then began to foresee, with her usual -cheerfulness, a variety of advantages that would accrue to them all, -from this separation. - -"I am delighted with the plan," she cried, "it is exactly what I could -wish. Margaret and I shall be as much benefited by it as yourselves. -When you and the Middletons are gone, we shall go on so quietly and -happily together with our books and our music! You will find Margaret -so improved when you come back again! I have a little plan of -alteration for your bedrooms too, which may now be performed without -any inconvenience to any one. It is very right that you _should_ go to -town; I would have every young woman of your condition in life -acquainted with the manners and amusements of London. You will be -under the care of a motherly good sort of woman, of whose kindness to -you I can have no doubt. And in all probability you will see your -brother, and whatever may be his faults, or the faults of his wife, -when I consider whose son he is, I cannot bear to have you so wholly -estranged from each other." - -"Though with your usual anxiety for our happiness," said Elinor, "you -have been obviating every impediment to the present scheme which -occurred to you, there is still one objection which, in my opinion, -cannot be so easily removed." - -Marianne's countenance sunk. - -"And what," said Mrs. Dashwood, "is my dear prudent Elinor going to -suggest? What formidable obstacle is she now to bring forward? Do let -me hear a word about the expense of it." - -"My objection is this; though I think very well of Mrs. Jennings's -heart, she is not a woman whose society can afford us pleasure, or -whose protection will give us consequence." - -"That is very true," replied her mother, "but of her society, -separately from that of other people, you will scarcely have any thing -at all, and you will almost always appear in public with Lady -Middleton." - -"If Elinor is frightened away by her dislike of Mrs. Jennings," said -Marianne, "at least it need not prevent _my_ accepting her invitation. -I have no such scruples, and I am sure I could put up with every -unpleasantness of that kind with very little effort." - -Elinor could not help smiling at this display of indifference towards -the manners of a person, to whom she had often had difficulty in -persuading Marianne to behave with tolerable politeness; and resolved -within herself, that if her sister persisted in going, she would go -likewise, as she did not think it proper that Marianne should be left -to the sole guidance of her own judgment, or that Mrs. Jennings should -be abandoned to the mercy of Marianne for all the comfort of her -domestic hours. To this determination she was the more easily -reconciled, by recollecting that Edward Ferrars, by Lucy's account, -was not to be in town before February; and that their visit, without -any unreasonable abridgement, might be previously finished. - -"I will have you _both_ go," said Mrs. Dashwood; "these objections are -nonsensical. You will have much pleasure in being in London, and -especially in being together; and if Elinor would ever condescend to -anticipate enjoyment, she would foresee it there from a variety of -sources; she would, perhaps, expect some from improving her -acquaintance with her sister-in-law's family." - -Elinor had often wished for an opportunity of attempting to weaken her -mother's dependence on the attachment of Edward and herself, that the -shock might be less when the whole truth were revealed, and now on -this attack, though almost hopeless of success, she forced herself to -begin her design by saying, as calmly as she could, "I like Edward -Ferrars very much, and shall always be glad to see him; but as to the -rest of the family, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me, -whether I am ever known to them or not." - -Mrs. Dashwood smiled, and said nothing. Marianne lifted up her eyes in -astonishment, and Elinor conjectured that she might as well have held -her tongue. - -After very little farther discourse, it was finally settled that the -invitation should be fully accepted. Mrs. Jennings received the -information with a great deal of joy, and many assurances of kindness -and care; nor was it a matter of pleasure merely to her. Sir John was -delighted; for to a man, whose prevailing anxiety was the dread of -being alone, the acquisition of two, to the number of inhabitants in -London, was something. Even Lady Middleton took the trouble of being -delighted, which was putting herself rather out of her way; and as -for the Miss Steeles, especially Lucy, they had never been so happy in -their lives as this intelligence made them. - -Elinor submitted to the arrangement which counteracted her wishes with -less reluctance than she had expected to feel. With regard to herself, -it was now a matter of unconcern whether she went to town or not, and -when she saw her mother so thoroughly pleased with the plan, and her -sister exhilarated by it in look, voice, and manner, restored to all -her usual animation, and elevated to more than her usual gaiety, she -could not be dissatisfied with the cause, and would hardly allow -herself to distrust the consequence. - -Marianne's joy was almost a degree beyond happiness, so great was the -perturbation of her spirits and her impatience to be gone. Her -unwillingness to quit her mother was her only restorative to calmness; -and at the moment of parting her grief on that score was excessive. -Her mother's affliction was hardly less, and Elinor was the only one -of the three, who seemed to consider the separation as any thing short -of eternal. - -Their departure took place in the first week in January. The -Middletons were to follow in about a week. The Miss Steeles kept their -station at the park, and were to quit it only with the rest of the -family. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -Elinor could not find herself in the carriage with Mrs. Jennings, and -beginning a journey to London under her protection, and as her guest, -without wondering at her own situation, so short had their -acquaintance with that lady been, so wholly unsuited were they in age -and disposition, and so many had been her objections against such a -measure only a few days before! But these objections had all, with -that happy ardour of youth which Marianne and her mother equally -shared, been overcome or overlooked; and Elinor, in spite of every -occasional doubt of Willoughby's constancy, could not witness the -rapture of delightful expectation which filled the whole soul and -beamed in the eyes of Marianne, without feeling how blank was her own -prospect, how cheerless her own state of mind in the comparison, and -how gladly she would engage in the solicitude of Marianne's situation -to have the same animating object in view, the same possibility of -hope. A short, a very short time however must now decide what -Willoughby's intentions were; in all probability he was already in -town. Marianne's eagerness to be gone declared her dependence on -finding him there; and Elinor was resolved not only upon gaining every -new light as to his character which her own observation or the -intelligence of others could give her, but likewise upon watching his -behaviour to her sister with such zealous attention, as to ascertain -what he was and what he meant, before many meetings had taken place. -Should the result of her observations be unfavourable, she was -determined at all events to open the eyes of her sister; should it be -otherwise, her exertions would be of a different nature--she must then -learn to avoid every selfish comparison, and banish every regret which -might lessen her satisfaction in the happiness of Marianne. - -They were three days on their journey, and Marianne's behaviour as -they travelled was a happy specimen of what future complaisance and -companionableness to Mrs. Jennings might be expected to be. She sat in -silence almost all the way, wrapt in her own meditations, and scarcely -ever voluntarily speaking, except when any object of picturesque -beauty within their view drew from her an exclamation of delight -exclusively addressed to her sister. To atone for this conduct -therefore, Elinor took immediate possession of the post of civility -which she had assigned herself, behaved with the greatest attention to -Mrs. Jennings, talked with her, laughed with her, and listened to her -whenever she could; and Mrs. Jennings on her side treated them both -with all possible kindness, was solicitous on every occasion for their -ease and enjoyment, and only disturbed that she could not make them -choose their own dinners at the inn, nor extort a confession of their -preferring salmon to cod, or boiled fowls to veal cutlets. They -reached town by three o'clock the third day, glad to be released, -after such a journey, from the confinement of a carriage, and ready to -enjoy all the luxury of a good fire. - -The house was handsome, and handsomely fitted up, and the young -ladies were immediately put in possession of a very comfortable -apartment. It had formerly been Charlotte's, and over the mantelpiece -still hung a landscape in coloured silks of her performance, in proof -of her having spent seven years at a great school in town to some -effect. - -As dinner was not to be ready in less than two hours from their -arrival, Elinor determined to employ the interval in writing to her -mother, and sat down for that purpose. In a few moments Marianne did -the same. "I am writing home, Marianne," said Elinor; "had not you -better defer your letter for a day or two?" - -"I am _not_ going to write to my mother," replied Marianne, hastily, -and as if wishing to avoid any farther inquiry. Elinor said no more; -it immediately struck her that she must then be writing to Willoughby; -and the conclusion which as instantly followed was, that, however -mysteriously they might wish to conduct the affair, they must be -engaged. This conviction, though not entirely satisfactory, gave her -pleasure, and she continued her letter with greater alacrity. -Marianne's was finished in a very few minutes; in length it could be -no more than a note; it was then folded up, sealed, and directed with -eager rapidity. Elinor thought she could distinguish a large W in the -direction; and no sooner was it complete than Marianne, ringing the -bell, requested the footman who answered it to get that letter -conveyed for her to the two-penny post. This decided the matter at -once. - -Her spirits still continued very high; but there was a flutter in them -which prevented their giving much pleasure to her sister, and this -agitation increased as the evening drew on. She could scarcely eat any -dinner, and when they afterwards returned to the drawing room, seemed -anxiously listening to the sound of every carriage. - -It was a great satisfaction to Elinor that Mrs. Jennings, by being -much engaged in her own room, could see little of what was passing. -The tea things were brought in, and already had Marianne been -disappointed more than once by a rap at a neighbouring door, when a -loud one was suddenly heard which could not be mistaken for one at any -other house, Elinor felt secure of its announcing Willoughby's -approach, and Marianne, starting up, moved towards the door. Every -thing was silent; this could not be borne many seconds; she opened -the door, advanced a few steps towards the stairs, and after listening -half a minute, returned into the room in all the agitation which a -conviction of having heard him would naturally produce; in the ecstasy -of her feelings at that instant she could not help exclaiming, "Oh, -Elinor, it is Willoughby, indeed it is!" and seemed almost ready to -throw herself into his arms, when Colonel Brandon appeared. - -It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness, and she -immediately left the room. Elinor was disappointed too; but at the -same time her regard for Colonel Brandon ensured his welcome with her; -and she felt particularly hurt that a man so partial to her sister -should perceive that she experienced nothing but grief and -disappointment in seeing him. She instantly saw that it was not -unnoticed by him, that he even observed Marianne as she quitted the -room, with such astonishment and concern, as hardly left him the -recollection of what civility demanded towards herself. - -"Is your sister ill?" said he. - -Elinor answered in some distress that she was, and then talked of -head-aches, low spirits, and over fatigues; and of every thing to -which she could decently attribute her sister's behaviour. - -He heard her with the most earnest attention, but seeming to recollect -himself, said no more on the subject, and began directly to speak of -his pleasure at seeing them in London, making the usual inquiries -about their journey, and the friends they had left behind. - -In this calm kind of way, with very little interest on either side, -they continued to talk, both of them out of spirits, and the thoughts -of both engaged elsewhere. Elinor wished very much to ask whether -Willoughby were then in town, but she was afraid of giving him pain by -any enquiry after his rival; and at length, by way of saying -something, she asked if he had been in London ever since she had seen -him last. "Yes," he replied, with some embarrassment, "almost ever -since; I have been once or twice at Delaford for a few days, but it -has never been in my power to return to Barton." - -This, and the manner in which it was said, immediately brought back to -her remembrance all the circumstances of his quitting that place, with -the uneasiness and suspicions they had caused to Mrs. Jennings, and -she was fearful that her question had implied much more curiosity on -the subject than she had ever felt. - -Mrs. Jennings soon came in. "Oh! Colonel," said she, with her usual -noisy cheerfulness, "I am monstrous glad to see you--sorry I could not -come before--beg your pardon, but I have been forced to look about me -a little, and settle my matters; for it is a long while since I have -been at home, and you know one has always a world of little odd things -to do after one has been away for any time; and then I have had -Cartwright to settle with. Lord, I have been as busy as a bee ever -since dinner! But pray, Colonel, how came you to conjure out that I -should be in town today?" - -"I had the pleasure of hearing it at Mr. Palmer's, where I have been -dining." - -"Oh, you did; well, and how do they all do at their house? How does -Charlotte do? I warrant you she is a fine size by this time." - -"Mrs. Palmer appeared quite well, and I am commissioned to tell you, -that you will certainly see her to-morrow." - -"Ay, to be sure, I thought as much. Well, Colonel, I have brought two -young ladies with me, you see--that is, you see but one of them now, -but there is another somewhere. Your friend, Miss Marianne, too--which -you will not be sorry to hear. I do not know what you and Mr. -Willoughby will do between you about her. Ay, it is a fine thing to be -young and handsome. Well! I was young once, but I never was very -handsome--worse luck for me. However, I got a very good husband, and I -don't know what the greatest beauty can do more. Ah! poor man! he has -been dead these eight years and better. But Colonel, where have you -been to since we parted? And how does your business go on? Come, come, -let's have no secrets among friends." - -He replied with his accustomary mildness to all her inquiries, but -without satisfying her in any. Elinor now began to make the tea, and -Marianne was obliged to appear again. - -After her entrance, Colonel Brandon became more thoughtful and silent -than he had been before, and Mrs. Jennings could not prevail on him to -stay long. No other visitor appeared that evening, and the ladies were -unanimous in agreeing to go early to bed. - -Marianne rose the next morning with recovered spirits and happy looks. -The disappointment of the evening before seemed forgotten in the -expectation of what was to happen that day. They had not long finished -their breakfast before Mrs. Palmer's barouche stopped at the door, and -in a few minutes she came laughing into the room: so delighted to see -them all, that it was hard to say whether she received most pleasure -from meeting her mother or the Miss Dashwoods again. So surprised at -their coming to town, though it was what she had rather expected all -along; so angry at their accepting her mother's invitation after -having declined her own, though at the same time she would never have -forgiven them if they had not come! - -"Mr. Palmer will be so happy to see you," said she; "What do you think -he said when he heard of your coming with Mamma? I forget what it was -now, but it was something so droll!" - -After an hour or two spent in what her mother called comfortable chat, -or in other words, in every variety of inquiry concerning all their -acquaintance on Mrs. Jennings's side, and in laughter without cause on -Mrs. Palmer's, it was proposed by the latter that they should all -accompany her to some shops where she had business that morning, to -which Mrs. Jennings and Elinor readily consented, as having likewise -some purchases to make themselves; and Marianne, though declining it -at first was induced to go likewise. - -Wherever they went, she was evidently always on the watch. In Bond -Street especially, where much of their business lay, her eyes were in -constant inquiry; and in whatever shop the party were engaged, her -mind was equally abstracted from every thing actually before them, -from all that interested and occupied the others. Restless and -dissatisfied every where, her sister could never obtain her opinion of -any article of purchase, however it might equally concern them both: -she received no pleasure from anything; was only impatient to be at -home again, and could with difficulty govern her vexation at the -tediousness of Mrs. Palmer, whose eye was caught by every thing -pretty, expensive, or new; who was wild to buy all, could determine on -none, and dawdled away her time in rapture and indecision. - -It was late in the morning before they returned home; and no sooner -had they entered the house than Marianne flew eagerly up stairs, and -when Elinor followed, she found her turning from the table with a -sorrowful countenance, which declared that no Willoughby had been -there. - -"Has no letter been left here for me since we went out?" said she to -the footman who then entered with the parcels. She was answered in the -negative. "Are you quite sure of it?" she replied. "Are you certain -that no servant, no porter has left any letter or note?" - -The man replied that none had. - -"How very odd!" said she, in a low and disappointed voice, as she -turned away to the window. - -"How odd, indeed!" repeated Elinor within herself, regarding her -sister with uneasiness. "If she had not known him to be in town she -would not have written to him, as she did; she would have written to -Combe Magna; and if he is in town, how odd that he should neither come -nor write! Oh! my dear mother, you must be wrong in permitting an -engagement between a daughter so young, a man so little known, to be -carried on in so doubtful, so mysterious a manner! I long to inquire; -and how will _my_ interference be borne." - -She determined, after some consideration, that if appearances -continued many days longer as unpleasant as they now were, she would -represent in the strongest manner to her mother the necessity of some -serious enquiry into the affair. - -Mrs. Palmer and two elderly ladies of Mrs. Jennings's intimate -acquaintance, whom she had met and invited in the morning, dined with -them. The former left them soon after tea to fulfill her evening -engagements; and Elinor was obliged to assist in making a whist table -for the others. Marianne was of no use on these occasions, as she -would never learn the game; but though her time was therefore at her -own disposal, the evening was by no means more productive of pleasure -to her than to Elinor, for it was spent in all the anxiety of -expectation and the pain of disappointment. She sometimes endeavoured -for a few minutes to read; but the book was soon thrown aside, and she -returned to the more interesting employment of walking backwards and -forwards across the room, pausing for a moment whenever she came to -the window, in hopes of distinguishing the long-expected rap. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - - -"If this open weather holds much longer," said Mrs. Jennings, when -they met at breakfast the following morning, "Sir John will not like -leaving Barton next week; 'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a -day's pleasure. Poor souls! I always pity them when they do; they seem -to take it so much to heart." - -"That is true," cried Marianne, in a cheerful voice, and walking to -the window as she spoke, to examine the day. "I had not thought of -that. This weather will keep many sportsmen in the country." - -It was a lucky recollection, all her good spirits were restored by it. -"It is charming weather for _them_ indeed," she continued, as she sat -down to the breakfast table with a happy countenance. "How much they -must enjoy it! But" (with a little return of anxiety) "it cannot be -expected to last long. At this time of the year, and after such a -series of rain, we shall certainly have very little more of it. Frosts -will soon set in, and in all probability with severity. In another day -or two perhaps; this extreme mildness can hardly last longer--nay, -perhaps it may freeze tonight!" - -"At any rate," said Elinor, wishing to prevent Mrs. Jennings from -seeing her sister's thoughts as clearly as she did, "I dare say we -shall have Sir John and Lady Middleton in town by the end of next -week." - -"Ay, my dear, I'll warrant you we do. Mary always has her own way." - -"And now," silently conjectured Elinor, "she will write to Combe by -this day's post." - -But if she _did_, the letter was written and sent away with a privacy -which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertain the fact. Whatever the -truth of it might be, and far as Elinor was from feeling thorough -contentment about it, yet while she saw Marianne in spirits, she could -not be very uncomfortable herself. And Marianne was in spirits; happy -in the mildness of the weather, and still happier in her expectation -of a frost. - -The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards at the houses of Mrs. -Jennings's acquaintance to inform them of her being in town; and -Marianne was all the time busy in observing the direction of the wind, -watching the variations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the -air. - -"Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning, Elinor? There -seems to me a very decided difference. I can hardly keep my hands warm -even in my muff. It was not so yesterday, I think. The clouds seem -parting too, the sun will be out in a moment, and we shall have a -clear afternoon." - -Elinor was alternately diverted and pained; but Marianne persevered, -and saw every night in the brightness of the fire, and every morning -in the appearance of the atmosphere, the certain symptoms of -approaching frost. - -The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be dissatisfied with Mrs. -Jennings's style of living, and set of acquaintance, than with her -behaviour to themselves, which was invariably kind. Every thing in her -household arrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan, and -excepting a few old city friends, whom, to Lady Middleton's regret, -she had never dropped, she visited no one to whom an introduction -could at all discompose the feelings of her young companions. Pleased -to find herself more comfortably situated in that particular than she -had expected, Elinor was very willing to compound for the want of much -real enjoyment from any of their evening parties, which, whether at -home or abroad, formed only for cards, could have little to amuse her. - -Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitation to the house, was with -them almost every day; he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor, -who often derived more satisfaction from conversing with him than from -any other daily occurrence, but who saw at the same time with much -concern his continued regard for her sister. She feared it was a -strengthening regard. It grieved her to see the earnestness with which -he often watched Marianne, and his spirits were certainly worse than -when at Barton. - -About a week after their arrival, it became certain that Willoughby -was also arrived. His card was on the table when they came in from the -morning's drive. - -"Good God!" cried Marianne, "he has been here while we were out." -Elinor, rejoiced to be assured of his being in London, now ventured -to say, "Depend upon it, he will call again tomorrow." But Marianne -seemed hardly to hear her, and on Mrs. Jennings's entrance, escaped -with the precious card. - -This event, while it raised the spirits of Elinor, restored to those -of her sister all, and more than all, their former agitation. From -this moment her mind was never quiet; the expectation of seeing him -every hour of the day, made her unfit for any thing. She insisted on -being left behind, the next morning, when the others went out. - -Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passing in Berkeley -Street during their absence; but a moment's glance at her sister when -they returned was enough to inform her, that Willoughby had paid no -second visit there. A note was just then brought in, and laid on the -table. - -"For me!" cried Marianne, stepping hastily forward. - -"No, ma'am, for my mistress." - -But Marianne, not convinced, took it instantly up. - -"It is indeed for Mrs. Jennings; how provoking!" - -"You are expecting a letter, then?" said Elinor, unable to be longer -silent. - -"Yes, a little--not much." - -After a short pause. "You have no confidence in me, Marianne." - -"Nay, Elinor, this reproach from _you_--you who have confidence in no -one!" - -"Me!" returned Elinor in some confusion; "indeed, Marianne, I have -nothing to tell." - -"Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situations then are -alike. We have neither of us any thing to tell; you, because you do -not communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing." - -Elinor, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself, which she was -not at liberty to do away, knew not how, under such circumstances, to -press for greater openness in Marianne. - -Mrs. Jennings soon appeared, and the note being given her, she read it -aloud. It was from Lady Middleton, announcing their arrival in Conduit -Street the night before, and requesting the company of her mother and -cousins the following evening. Business on Sir John's part, and a -violent cold on her own, prevented their calling in Berkeley Street. -The invitation was accepted; but when the hour of appointment drew -near, necessary as it was in common civility to Mrs. Jennings, that -they should both attend her on such a visit, Elinor had some -difficulty in persuading her sister to go, for still she had seen -nothing of Willoughby; and therefore was not more indisposed for -amusement abroad, than unwilling to run the risk of his calling again -in her absence. - -Elinor found, when the evening was over, that disposition is not -materially altered by a change of abode, for although scarcely settled -in town, Sir John had contrived to collect around him, nearly twenty -young people, and to amuse them with a ball. This was an affair, -however, of which Lady Middleton did not approve. In the country, an -unpremeditated dance was very allowable; but in London, where the -reputation of elegance was more important and less easily attained, it -was risking too much for the gratification of a few girls, to have it -known that Lady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine -couple, with two violins, and a mere side-board collation. - -Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were of the party; from the former, whom they had -not seen before since their arrival in town, as he was careful to -avoid the appearance of any attention to his mother-in-law, and -therefore never came near her, they received no mark of recognition on -their entrance. He looked at them slightly, without seeming to know -who they were, and merely nodded to Mrs. Jennings from the other side -of the room. Marianne gave one glance round the apartment as she -entered: it was enough--_he_ was not there--and she sat down, equally -ill-disposed to receive or communicate pleasure. After they had been -assembled about an hour, Mr. Palmer sauntered towards the Miss -Dashwoods to express his surprise on seeing them in town, though -Colonel Brandon had been first informed of their arrival at his house, -and he had himself said something very droll on hearing that they were -to come. - -"I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he. - -"Did you?" replied Elinor. - -"When do you go back again?" - -"I do not know." And thus ended their discourse. - -Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance in her life, as she was -that evening, and never so much fatigued by the exercise. She -complained of it as they returned to Berkeley Street. - -"Aye, aye," said Mrs. Jennings, "we know the reason of all that very -well; if a certain person who shall be nameless, had been there, you -would not have been a bit tired: and to say the truth it was not very -pretty of him not to give you the meeting when he was invited." - -"Invited!" cried Marianne. - -"So my daughter Middleton told me, for it seems Sir John met him -somewhere in the street this morning." Marianne said no more, but -looked exceedingly hurt. Impatient in this situation to be doing -something that might lead to her sister's relief, Elinor resolved to -write the next morning to her mother, and hoped by awakening her fears -for the health of Marianne, to procure those inquiries which had been -so long delayed; and she was still more eagerly bent on this measure -by perceiving after breakfast on the morrow, that Marianne was again -writing to Willoughby, for she could not suppose it to be to any other -person. - -About the middle of the day, Mrs. Jennings went out by herself on -business, and Elinor began her letter directly, while Marianne, too -restless for employment, too anxious for conversation, walked from one -window to the other, or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation. -Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother, relating all -that had passed, her suspicions of Willoughby's inconstancy, urging -her by every plea of duty and affection to demand from Marianne an -account of her real situation with respect to him. - -Her letter was scarcely finished, when a rap foretold a visitor, and -Colonel Brandon was announced. Marianne, who had seen him from the -window, and who hated company of any kind, left the room before he -entered it. He looked more than usually grave, and though expressing -satisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone, as if he had somewhat in -particular to tell her, sat for some time without saying a word. -Elinor, persuaded that he had some communication to make in which her -sister was concerned, impatiently expected its opening. It was not the -first time of her feeling the same kind of conviction; for, more than -once before, beginning with the observation of "your sister looks -unwell to-day," or "your sister seems out of spirits," he had -appeared on the point, either of disclosing, or of inquiring, -something particular about her. After a pause of several minutes, -their silence was broken, by his asking her in a voice of some -agitation, when he was to congratulate her on the acquisition of a -brother? Elinor was not prepared for such a question, and having no -answer ready, was obliged to adopt the simple and common expedient, of -asking what he meant? He tried to smile as he replied, "your sister's -engagement to Mr. Willoughby is very generally known." - -"It cannot be generally known," returned Elinor, "for her own family -do not know it." - -He looked surprised and said, "I beg your pardon, I am afraid my -inquiry has been impertinent; but I had not supposed any secrecy -intended, as they openly correspond, and their marriage is universally -talked of." - -"How can that be? By whom can you have heard it mentioned?" - -"By many--by some of whom you know nothing, by others with whom you -are most intimate, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer, and the Middletons. But -still I might not have believed it, for where the mind is perhaps -rather unwilling to be convinced, it will always find something to -support its doubts, if I had not, when the servant let me in today, -accidentally seen a letter in his hand, directed to Mr. Willoughby in -your sister's writing. I came to inquire, but I was convinced before I -could ask the question. Is every thing finally settled? Is it -impossible to-? But I have no right, and I could have no chance of -succeeding. Excuse me, Miss Dashwood. I believe I have been wrong in -saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and on your prudence I -have the strongest dependence. Tell me that it is all absolutely -resolved on, that any attempt, that in short concealment, if -concealment be possible, is all that remains." - -These words, which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowal of his love for -her sister, affected her very much. She was not immediately able to -say anything, and even when her spirits were recovered, she debated -for a short time, on the answer it would be most proper to give. The -real state of things between Willoughby and her sister was so little -known to herself, that in endeavouring to explain it, she might be as -liable to say too much as too little. Yet as she was convinced that -Marianne's affection for Willoughby, could leave no hope of Colonel -Brandon's success, whatever the event of that affection might be, and -at the same time wished to shield her conduct from censure, she -thought it most prudent and kind, after some consideration, to say -more than she really knew or believed. She acknowledged, therefore, -that though she had never been informed by themselves of the terms on -which they stood with each other, of their mutual affection she had no -doubt, and of their correspondence she was not astonished to hear. - -He listened to her with silent attention, and on her ceasing to speak, -rose directly from his seat, and after saying in a voice of emotion, -"to your sister I wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that he -may endeavour to deserve her,"--took leave, and went away. - -Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from this conversation, to -lessen the uneasiness of her mind on other points; she was left, on -the contrary, with a melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's -unhappiness, and was prevented even from wishing it removed, by her -anxiety for the very event that must confirm it. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - - -Nothing occurred during the next three or four days, to make Elinor -regret what she had done, in applying to her mother; for Willoughby -neither came nor wrote. They were engaged about the end of that time -to attend Lady Middleton to a party, from which Mrs. Jennings was kept -away by the indisposition of her youngest daughter; and for this -party, Marianne, wholly dispirited, careless of her appearance, and -seeming equally indifferent whether she went or staid, prepared, -without one look of hope or one expression of pleasure. She sat by the -drawing-room fire after tea, till the moment of Lady Middleton's -arrival, without once stirring from her seat, or altering her -attitude, lost in her own thoughts, and insensible of her sister's -presence; and when at last they were told that Lady Middleton waited -for them at the door, she started as if she had forgotten that any one -was expected. - -They arrived in due time at the place of destination, and as soon as -the string of carriages before them would allow, alighted, ascended -the stairs, heard their names announced from one landing-place to -another in an audible voice, and entered a room splendidly lit up, -quite full of company, and insufferably hot. When they had paid their -tribute of politeness by curtsying to the lady of the house, they were -permitted to mingle in the crowd, and take their share of the heat and -inconvenience, to which their arrival must necessarily add. After some -time spent in saying little or doing less, Lady Middleton sat down to -Cassino, and as Marianne was not in spirits for moving about, she and -Elinor luckily succeeding to chairs, placed themselves at no great -distance from the table. - -They had not remained in this manner long, before Elinor perceived -Willoughby, standing within a few yards of them, in earnest -conversation with a very fashionable looking young woman. She soon -caught his eye, and he immediately bowed, but without attempting to -speak to her, or to approach Marianne, though he could not but see -her; and then continued his discourse with the same lady. Elinor -turned involuntarily to Marianne, to see whether it could be -unobserved by her. At that moment she first perceived him, and her -whole countenance glowing with sudden delight, she would have moved -towards him instantly, had not her sister caught hold of her. - -"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "he is there--he is there--Oh! why does -he not look at me? why cannot I speak to him?" - -"Pray, pray be composed," cried Elinor, "and do not betray what you -feel to every body present. Perhaps he has not observed you yet." - -This however was more than she could believe herself; and to be -composed at such a moment was not only beyond the reach of Marianne, -it was beyond her wish. She sat in an agony of impatience which -affected every feature. - -[Illustration: _At that moment she first perceived him._] - -At last he turned round again, and regarded them both; she started up, -and pronouncing his name in a tone of affection, held out her hand to -him. He approached, and addressing himself rather to Elinor than -Marianne, as if wishing to avoid her eye, and determined not to -observe her attitude, inquired in a hurried manner after Mrs. -Dashwood, and asked how long they had been in town. Elinor was robbed -of all presence of mind by such an address, and was unable to say a -word. But the feelings of her sister were instantly expressed. Her -face was crimsoned over, and she exclaimed, in a voice of the greatest -emotion, "Good God! Willoughby, what is the meaning of this? Have you -not received my letters? Will you not shake hands with me?" - -He could not then avoid it, but her touch seemed painful to him, and -he held her hand only for a moment. During all this time he was -evidently struggling for composure. Elinor watched his countenance and -saw its expression becoming more tranquil. After a moment's pause, he -spoke with calmness. - -"I did myself the honour of calling in Berkeley Street last Tuesday, -and very much regretted that I was not fortunate enough to find -yourselves and Mrs. Jennings at home. My card was not lost, I hope." - -"But have you not received my notes?" cried Marianne in the wildest -anxiety. "Here is some mistake I am sure--some dreadful mistake. What -can be the meaning of it? Tell me, Willoughby; for heaven's sake tell -me, what is the matter?" - -He made no reply; his complexion changed and all his embarrassment -returned; but as if, on catching the eye of the young lady with whom -he had been previously talking, he felt the necessity of instant -exertion, he recovered himself again, and after saying, "Yes, I had -the pleasure of receiving the information of your arrival in town, -which you were so good as to send me," turned hastily away with a -slight bow and joined his friend. - -Marianne, now looking dreadfully white, and unable to stand, sunk into -her chair, and Elinor, expecting every moment to see her faint, tried -to screen her from the observation of others, while reviving her with -lavender water. - -"Go to him, Elinor," she cried, as soon as she could speak, "and force -him to come to me. Tell him I must see him again--must speak to him -instantly. I cannot rest--I shall not have a moment's peace till this -is explained--some dreadful misapprehension or other. Oh, go to him -this moment." - -"How can that be done? No, my dearest Marianne, you must wait. This is -not the place for explanations. Wait only till tomorrow." - -With difficulty however could she prevent her from following him -herself; and to persuade her to check her agitation, to wait, at -least, with the appearance of composure, till she might speak to him -with more privacy and more effect, was impossible; for Marianne -continued incessantly to give way in a low voice to the misery of her -feelings, by exclamations of wretchedness. In a short time Elinor saw -Willoughby quit the room by the door towards the staircase, and -telling Marianne that he was gone, urged the impossibility of speaking -to him again that evening, as a fresh argument for her to be calm. She -instantly begged her sister would entreat Lady Middleton to take them -home, as she was too miserable to stay a minute longer. - -Lady Middleton, though in the middle of a rubber, on being informed -that Marianne was unwell, was too polite to object for a moment to her -wish of going away, and making over her cards to a friend, they -departed as soon as the carriage could be found. Scarcely a word was -spoken during their return to Berkeley Street. Marianne was in a -silent agony, too much oppressed even for tears; but as Mrs. Jennings -was luckily not come home, they could go directly to their own room, -where hartshorn restored her a little to herself. She was soon -undressed and in bed, and as she seemed desirous of being alone, her -sister then left her, and while she waited the return of Mrs. -Jennings, had leisure enough for thinking over the past. - -That some kind of engagement had subsisted between Willoughby and -Marianne she could not doubt, and that Willoughby was weary of it, -seemed equally clear; for however Marianne might still feed her own -wishes, _she_ could not attribute such behaviour to mistake or -misapprehension of any kind. Nothing but a thorough change of -sentiment could account for it. Her indignation would have been still -stronger than it was, had she not witnessed that embarrassment which -seemed to speak a consciousness of his own misconduct, and prevented -her from believing him so unprincipled as to have been sporting with -the affections of her sister from the first, without any design that -would bear investigation. Absence might have weakened his regard, and -convenience might have determined him to overcome it, but that such a -regard had formerly existed she could not bring herself to doubt. - -As for Marianne, on the pangs which so unhappy a meeting must already -have given her, and on those still more severe which might await her -in its probable consequence, she could not reflect without the deepest -concern. Her own situation gained in the comparison; for while she -could _esteem_ Edward as much as ever, however they might be divided -in future, her mind might be always supported. But every circumstance -that could embitter such an evil seemed uniting to heighten the misery -of Marianne in a final separation from Willoughby--in an immediate and -irreconcilable rupture with him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - - -Before the housemaid had lit their fire the next day, or the sun -gained any power over a cold, gloomy morning in January, Marianne, -only half dressed, was kneeling against one of the window-seats for -the sake of all the little light she could command from it, and -writing as fast as a continual flow of tears would permit her. In this -situation, Elinor, roused from sleep by her agitation and sobs, first -perceived her; and after observing her for a few moments with silent -anxiety, said, in a tone of the most considerate gentleness-- - -"Marianne, may I ask--" - -"No, Elinor," she replied, "ask nothing; you will soon know all." - -The sort of desperate calmness with which this was said, lasted no -longer than while she spoke, and was immediately followed by a return -of the same excessive affliction. It was some minutes before she could -go on with her letter, and the frequent bursts of grief which still -obliged her, at intervals, to withhold her pen, were proofs enough of -her feeling how more than probable it was that she was writing for the -last time to Willoughby. - -Elinor paid her every quiet and unobtrusive attention in her power; -and she would have tried to sooth and tranquilize her still more, had -not Marianne entreated her, with all the eagerness of the most nervous -irritability, not to speak to her for the world. In such -circumstances, it was better for both that they should not be long -together; and the restless state of Marianne's mind not only prevented -her from remaining in the room a moment after she was dressed, but -requiring at once solitude and continual change of place, made her -wander about the house till breakfast time, avoiding the sight of -every body. - -At breakfast she neither ate, nor attempted to eat any thing; and -Elinor's attention was then all employed, not in urging her, not in -pitying her, nor in appearing to regard her, but in endeavouring to -engage Mrs. Jennings's notice entirely to herself. - -As this was a favourite meal with Mrs. Jennings, it lasted a -considerable time, and they were just setting themselves, after it, -round the common working table, when a letter was delivered to -Marianne, which she eagerly caught from the servant, and, turning of a -death-like paleness, instantly ran out of the room. Elinor, who saw as -plainly by this, as if she had seen the direction, that it must come -from Willoughby, felt immediately such a sickness at heart as made her -hardly able to hold up her head, and sat in such a general tremor as -made her fear it impossible to escape Mrs. Jennings's notice. That -good lady, however, saw only that Marianne had received a letter from -Willoughby, which appeared to her a very good joke, and which she -treated accordingly, by hoping, with a laugh, that she would find it -to her liking. Of Elinor's distress, she was too busily employed in -measuring lengths of worsted for her rug, to see any thing at all; and -calmly continuing her talk, as soon as Marianne disappeared, she -said-- - -"Upon my word, I never saw a young woman so desperately in love in my -life! _My_ girls were nothing to her, and yet they used to be foolish -enough; but as for Miss Marianne, she is quite an altered creature. I -hope, from the bottom of my heart, he won't keep her waiting much -longer, for it is quite grievous to see her look so ill and forlorn. -Pray, when are they to be married?" - -Elinor, though never less disposed to speak than at that moment, -obliged herself to answer such an attack as this, and, therefore, -trying to smile, replied, "And have you really, Ma'am, talked yourself -into a persuasion of my sister's being engaged to Mr. Willoughby? I -thought it had been only a joke, but so serious a question seems to -imply more; and I must beg, therefore, that you will not deceive -yourself any longer. I do assure you that nothing would surprise me -more than to hear of their being going to be married." - -"For shame, for shame, Miss Dashwood! how can you talk so? Don't we -all know that it must be a match, that they were over head and ears in -love with each other from the first moment they met? Did not I see -them together in Devonshire every day, and all day long; and did not I -know that your sister came to town with me on purpose to buy wedding -clothes? Come, come, this won't do. Because you are so sly about it -yourself, you think nobody else has any senses; but it is no such -thing, I can tell you, for it has been known all over town this ever -so long. I tell every body of it and so does Charlotte." - -"Indeed, Ma'am," said Elinor, very seriously, "you are mistaken. -Indeed, you are doing a very unkind thing in spreading the report, and -you will find that you have though you will not believe me now." - -Mrs. Jennings laughed again, but Elinor had not spirits to say more, -and eager at all events to know what Willoughby had written, hurried -away to their room, where, on opening the door, she saw Marianne -stretched on the bed, almost choked by grief, one letter in her hand, -and two or three others laying by her. Elinor drew near, but without -saying a word; and seating herself on the bed, took her hand, kissed -her affectionately several times, and then gave way to a burst of -tears, which at first was scarcely less violent than Marianne's. The -latter, though unable to speak, seemed to feel all the tenderness of -this behaviour, and after some time thus spent in joint affliction, -she put all the letters into Elinor's hands; and then covering her -face with her handkerchief, almost screamed with agony. Elinor, who -knew that such grief, shocking as it was to witness it, must have its -course, watched by her till this excess of suffering had somewhat -spent itself, and then turning eagerly to Willoughby's letter, read as -follows:-- - -"Bond Street, January. - -"MY DEAR MADAM, - - "I have just had the honour of receiving your letter, for - which I beg to return my sincere acknowledgments. I am much - concerned to find there was anything in my behaviour last - night that did not meet your approbation; and though I am - quite at a loss to discover in what point I could be so - unfortunate as to offend you, I entreat your forgiveness of - what I can assure you to have been perfectly unintentional. - I shall never reflect on my former acquaintance with your - family in Devonshire without the most grateful pleasure, and - flatter myself it will not be broken by any mistake or - misapprehension of my actions. My esteem for your whole - family is very sincere; but if I have been so unfortunate as - to give rise to a belief of more than I felt, or meant to - express, I shall reproach myself for not having been more - guarded in my professions of that esteem. That I should ever - have meant more you will allow to be impossible, when you - understand that my affections have been long engaged - elsewhere, and it will not be many weeks, I believe, before - this engagement is fulfilled. It is with great regret that I - obey your commands in returning the letters with which I - have been honoured from you, and the lock of hair, which you - so obligingly bestowed on me. - -I am, dear Madam, - -Your most obedient humble servant, - -"JOHN WILLOUGHBY." - -With what indignation such a letter as this must be read by Miss -Dashwood, may be imagined. Though aware, before she began it, that it -must bring a confession of his inconstancy, and confirm their -separation for ever, she was not aware that such language could be -suffered to announce it; nor could she have supposed Willoughby -capable of departing so far from the appearance of every honourable -and delicate feeling--so far from the common decorum of a gentleman, -as to send a letter so impudently cruel: a letter which, instead of -bringing with his desire of a release any professions of regret, -acknowledged no breach of faith, denied all peculiar affection -whatever;--a letter of which every line was an insult, and which -proclaimed its writer to be deep in hardened villainy. - -She paused over it for some time with indignant astonishment; then -read it again and again; but every perusal only served to increase -her abhorrence of the man, and so bitter were her feelings against -him, that she dared not trust herself to speak, lest she might wound -Marianne still deeper by treating their disengagement, not as a loss -to her of any possible good but as an escape from the worst and most -irremediable of all evils,--a connection, for life, with an -unprincipled man, as a deliverance the most real, a blessing the most -important. - -In her earnest meditations on the contents of the letter, on the -depravity of that mind which could dictate it, and probably, on the -very different mind of a very different person, who had no other -connection whatever with the affair than what her heart gave him with -every thing that passed, Elinor forgot the immediate distress of her -sister, forgot that she had three letters on her lap yet unread, and -so entirely forgot how long she had been in the room, that when on -hearing a carriage drive up to the door, she went to the window to see -who could be coming so unreasonably early, she was all astonishment to -perceive Mrs. Jennings's chariot, which she knew had not been ordered -till one. Determined not to quit Marianne, though hopeless of -contributing, at present, to her ease, she hurried away to excuse -herself from attending Mrs. Jennings, on account of her sister being -indisposed. Mrs. Jennings, with a thoroughly good-humoured concern for -its cause, admitted the excuse most readily, and Elinor, after seeing -her safe off, returned to Marianne, whom she found attempting to rise -from the bed, and whom she reached just in time to prevent her from -falling on the floor, faint and giddy from a long want of proper rest -and food; for it was many days since she had any appetite, and many -nights since she had really slept; and now, when her mind was no -longer supported by the fever of suspense, the consequence of all this -was felt in an aching head, a weakened stomach, and a general nervous -faintness. A glass of wine, which Elinor procured for her directly, -made her more comfortable, and she was at last able to express some -sense of her kindness, by saying, "Poor Elinor! how unhappy I make -you!" - -"I only wish," replied her sister, "there were any thing I _could_ do, -which might be of comfort to you." - -This, as every thing else would have been, was too much for Marianne, -who could only exclaim, in the anguish of her heart, "Oh! Elinor, I -am miserable, indeed," before her voice was entirely lost in sobs. - -Elinor could no longer witness this torrent of unresisted grief in -silence. - -"Exert yourself, dear Marianne," she cried, "if you would not kill -yourself and all who love you. Think of your mother; think of her -misery while _you_ suffer: for her sake you must exert yourself." - -"I cannot, I cannot," cried Marianne; "leave me, leave me, if I -distress you; leave me, hate me, forget me! but do not torture me so. -Oh! how easy for those, who have no sorrow of their own to talk of -exertion! Happy, happy Elinor, _you_ cannot have an idea of what I -suffer." - -"Do you call _me_ happy, Marianne? Ah! if you knew! And can you -believe me to be so, while I see you so wretched!" - -"Forgive me, forgive me," throwing her arms round her sister's neck; -"I know you feel for me; I know what a heart you have; but yet you -are--you must be happy; Edward loves you--what, oh what, can do away -such happiness as that?" - -"Many, many circumstances," said Elinor, solemnly. - -"No, no, no," cried Marianne wildly, "he loves you, and only you. You -_can_ have no grief." - -"I can have no pleasure while I see you in this state." - -"And you will never see me otherwise. Mine is a misery which nothing -can do away." - -"You must not talk so, Marianne. Have you no comforts? no friends? Is -your loss such as leaves no opening for consolation? Much as you -suffer now, think of what you would have suffered if the discovery of -his character had been delayed to a later period;--if your engagement -had been carried on for months and months, as it might have been, -before he chose to put an end to it. Every additional day of unhappy -confidence, on your side, would have made the blow more dreadful." - -"Engagement!" cried Marianne, "there has been no engagement." - -"No engagement!" - -"No, he is not so unworthy as you believe him. He has broken no faith -with me." - -"But he told you that he loved you." - -"Yes--no--never absolutely. It was every day implied, but never -professedly declared. Sometimes I thought it had been--but it never -was." - -"Yet you wrote to him?" - -"Yes: could that be wrong after all that had passed? But I cannot -talk." - -Elinor said no more, and turning again to the three letters which now -raised a much stronger curiosity than before, directly ran over the -contents of all. The first, which was what her sister had sent him on -their arrival in town, was to this effect:-- - -"Berkeley Street, January. - - "How surprised you will be, Willoughby, on receiving this; - and I think you will feel something more than surprise, when - you know that I am in town. An opportunity of coming hither, - though with Mrs. Jennings, was a temptation we could not - resist. I wish you may receive this in time to come here - tonight, but I will not depend on it. At any rate I shall - expect you to-morrow. For the present, adieu. - -M.D." - -Her second note, which had been written on the morning after the dance -at the Middletons', was in these words:-- - - "I cannot express my disappointment in having missed you the - day before yesterday, nor my astonishment at not having - received any answer to a note which I sent you above a week - ago. I have been expecting to hear from you, and still more - to see you, every hour of the day. Pray call again as soon - as possible, and explain the reason of my having expected - this in vain. You had better come earlier another time, - because we are generally out by one. We were last night at - Lady Middleton's, where there was a dance. I have been told - that you were asked to be of the party. But could it be so? - You must be very much altered indeed since we parted, if - that could be the case, and you not there. But I will not - suppose this possible, and I hope very soon to receive your - personal assurance of its being otherwise. - -M.D." - -The contents of her last note to him were these:-- - - "What am I to imagine, Willoughby, by your behaviour last - night? Again I demand an explanation of it. I was prepared - to meet you with the pleasure which our separation naturally - produced,--with the familiarity which our intimacy at Barton - appeared to me to justify. I was repulsed indeed! I have - passed a wretched night in endeavouring to excuse a conduct - which can scarcely be called less than insulting; but though - I have not yet been able to form any reasonable apology for - your behaviour, I am perfectly ready to hear your - justification of it. You have perhaps been misinformed, or - purposely deceived, in something concerning me, which may - have lowered me in your opinion. Tell me what it is, explain - the grounds on which you acted, and I shall be satisfied, in - being able to satisfy you. It would grieve me indeed to be - obliged to think ill of you; but if I am to do it, if I am - to learn that you are not what we have hitherto believed - you, that your regard for us all was insincere, that your - behaviour to me was intended only to deceive, let it be told - as soon as possible. My feelings are at present in a state - of dreadful indecision; I wish to acquit you, but certainty - on either side will be ease to what I now suffer. If your - sentiments are no longer what they were, you will return my - notes, and the lock of my hair which is in your possession. - -M.D." - -That such letters, so full of affection and confidence, could have -been so answered, Elinor, for Willoughby's sake, would have been -unwilling to believe. But her condemnation of him did not blind her to -the impropriety of their having been written at all; and she was -silently grieving over the imprudence which had hazarded such -unsolicited proofs of tenderness, not warranted by anything preceding, -and most severely condemned by the event, when Marianne, perceiving -that she had finished the letters, observed to her that they contained -nothing but what any one would have written in the same situation. - -"I felt myself," she added, "to be as solemnly engaged to him, as if -the strictest legal covenant had bound us to each other." - -"I can believe it," said Elinor; "but unfortunately he did not feel -the same." - -"He _did_ feel the same, Elinor--for weeks and weeks he felt it. I -know he did. Whatever may have changed him now, (and nothing but the -blackest art employed against me can have done it), I was once as dear -to him as my own soul could wish. This lock of hair, which now he can -so readily give up, was begged of me with the most earnest -supplication. Had you seen his look, his manner, had you heard his -voice at that moment! Have you forgot the last evening of our being -together at Barton? The morning that we parted too! When he told me -that it might be many weeks before we met again--his distress--can I -ever forget his distress?" - -For a moment or two she could say no more; but when this emotion had -passed away, she added, in a firmer tone-- - -"Elinor, I have been cruelly used; but not by Willoughby." - -"Dearest Marianne, who but himself? By whom can he have been -instigated?" - -"By all the world, rather than by his own heart. I could rather -believe every creature of my acquaintance leagued together to ruin me -in his opinion, than believe his nature capable of such cruelty. This -woman of whom he writes--whoever she be--or any one, in short, but -your own dear self, mama, and Edward, may have been so barbarous to -bely me. Beyond you three, is there a creature in the world whom I -would not rather suspect of evil than Willoughby, whose heart I know -so well?" - -Elinor would not contend, and only replied, "Whoever may have been so -detestably your enemy, let them be cheated of their malignant triumph, -my dear sister, by seeing how nobly the consciousness of your own -innocence and good intentions supports your spirits. It is a -reasonable and laudable pride which resists such malevolence." - -"No, no," cried Marianne, "misery such as mine has no pride. I care -not who knows that I am wretched. The triumph of seeing me so may be -open to all the world. Elinor, Elinor, they who suffer little may be -proud and independent as they like--may resist insult, or return -mortification--but I cannot. I must feel--I must be wretched--and they -are welcome to enjoy the consciousness of it that can." - -"But for my mother's sake and mine--" - -"I would do more than for my own. But to appear happy when I am so -miserable--oh! who can require it?" - -Again they were both silent. Elinor was employed in walking -thoughtfully from the fire to the window, from the window to the fire, -without knowing that she received warmth from one, or discerning -objects through the other; and Marianne, seated at the foot of the -bed, with her head leaning against one of its posts, again took up -Willoughby's letter, and, after shuddering over every sentence, -exclaimed-- - -"It is too much! Oh, Willoughby, Willoughby, could this be yours! -Cruel, cruel--nothing can acquit you. Elinor, nothing can. Whatever he -might have heard against me, ought he not to have suspended his -belief? ought he not to have told me of it, to have given me the power -of clearing myself? 'The lock of hair, (repeating it from the letter,) -which you so obligingly bestowed on me'--that is unpardonable. -Willoughby, where was your heart when you wrote those words? Oh, -barbarously insolent!--Elinor, can he be justified?" - -"No, Marianne, in no possible way." - -"And yet this woman--who knows what her art may have been?--how long -it may have been premeditated, and how deeply contrived by her!--Who -is she?--Who can she be?--Whom did I ever hear him talk of as young -and attractive among his female acquaintance?--Oh! no one, no one:--he -talked to me only of myself." - -Another pause ensued; Marianne was greatly agitated, and it ended -thus:-- - -"Elinor, I must go home. I must go and comfort mama. Can not we be -gone to-morrow?" - -"To-morrow, Marianne!" - -"Yes, why should I stay here? I came only for Willoughby's sake--and -now who cares for me? Who regards me?" - -"It would be impossible to go to-morrow. We owe Mrs. Jennings much -more than civility; and civility of the commonest kind must prevent -such a hasty removal as that." - -"Well then, another day or two, perhaps; but I cannot stay here long, -I cannot stay to endure the questions and remarks of all these people. -The Middletons and Palmers--how am I to bear their pity? The pity of -such a woman as Lady Middleton! Oh, what would _he_ say to that!" - -Elinor advised her to lie down again, and for a moment she did so; but -no attitude could give her ease; and in restless pain of mind and body -she moved from one posture to another, till growing more and more -hysterical, her sister could with difficulty keep her on the bed at -all, and for some time was fearful of being constrained to call for -assistance. Some lavender drops, however, which she was at length -persuaded to take, were of use; and from that time till Mrs. Jennings -returned, she continued on the bed quiet and motionless. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - - -Mrs. Jennings came immediately to their room on her return, and -without waiting to have her request of admittance answered, opened the -door and walked in with a look of real concern. - -"How do you do my dear?" said she in a voice of great compassion to -Marianne, who turned away her face without attempting to answer. - -"How is she, Miss Dashwood? Poor thing! she looks very bad. No -wonder. Ay, it is but too true. He is to be married very soon--a -good-for-nothing fellow! I have no patience with him. Mrs. Taylor told -me of it half an hour ago, and she was told it by a particular friend -of Miss Grey herself, else I am sure I should not have believed it; -and I was almost ready to sink as it was. Well, said I, all I can say -is, that if this be true, he has used a young lady of my acquaintance -abominably ill, and I wish with all my soul his wife may plague his -heart out. And so I shall always say, my dear, you may depend on it. I -have no notion of men's going on in this way; and if ever I meet him -again, I will give him such a dressing as he has not had this many a -day. But there is one comfort, my dear Miss Marianne--he is not the -only young man in the world worth having; and with your pretty face -you will never want admirers. Well, poor thing! I won't disturb her -any longer, for she had better have her cry out at once and have done -with. The Parrys and Sandersons luckily are coming tonight you know, -and that will amuse her." - -She then went away, walking on tiptoe out of the room, as if she -supposed her young friend's affliction could be increased by noise. - -Marianne, to the surprise of her sister, determined on dining with -them. Elinor even advised her against it. But "no, she would go down; -she could bear it very well, and the bustle about her would be less." -Elinor, pleased to have her governed for a moment by such a motive, -though believing it hardly possible that she could sit out the dinner, -said no more; and adjusting her dress for her as well as she could, -while Marianne still remained on the bed, was ready to assist her into -the dining room as soon as they were summoned to it. - -When there, though looking most wretchedly, she ate more and was -calmer than her sister had expected. Had she tried to speak, or had -she been conscious of half Mrs. Jennings's well-meant but ill-judged -attentions to her, this calmness could not have been maintained; but -not a syllable escaped her lips; and the abstraction of her thoughts -preserved her in ignorance of every thing that was passing before her. - -Elinor, who did justice to Mrs. Jennings's kindness, though its -effusions were often distressing, and sometimes almost ridiculous, -made her those acknowledgments, and returned her those civilities, -which her sister could not make or return for herself. Their good -friend saw that Marianne was unhappy, and felt that every thing was -due to her which might make her at all less so. She treated her -therefore, with all the indulgent fondness of a parent towards a -favourite child on the last day of its holidays. Marianne was to have -the best place by the fire, was to be tempted to eat by every delicacy -in the house, and to be amused by the relation of all the news of the -day. Had not Elinor, in the sad countenance of her sister, seen a -check to all mirth, she could have been entertained by Mrs. Jennings's -endeavours to cure a disappointment in love, by a variety of -sweetmeats and olives, and a good fire. As soon, however, as the -consciousness of all this was forced by continual repetition on -Marianne, she could stay no longer. With a hasty exclamation of -Misery, and a sign to her sister not to follow her, she directly got -up and hurried out of the room. - -"Poor soul!" cried Mrs. Jennings, as soon as she was gone, "how it -grieves me to see her! And I declare if she is not gone away without -finishing her wine! And the dried cherries too! Lord! nothing seems to -do her any good. I am sure if I knew of any thing she would like, I -would send all over the town for it. Well, it is the oddest thing to -me, that a man should use such a pretty girl so ill! But when there -is plenty of money on one side, and next to none on the other, Lord -bless you! they care no more about such things!" - -"The lady then,--Miss Grey I think you called her,--is very rich?" - -"Fifty thousand pounds, my dear. Did you ever see her? a smart, -stylish girl they say, but not handsome. I remember her aunt very -well, Biddy Henshawe; she married a very wealthy man. But the family -are all rich together. Fifty thousand pounds! and by all accounts, it -won't come before it's wanted; for they say he is all to pieces. No -wonder! dashing about with his curricle and hunters! Well, it don't -signify talking; but when a young man, be who he will, comes and makes -love to a pretty girl, and promises marriage, he has no business to -fly off from his word only because he grows poor, and a richer girl is -ready to have him. Why don't he, in such a case, sell his horses, let -his house, turn off his servants, and make a thorough reform at once? -I warrant you, Miss Marianne would have been ready to wait till -matters came round. But that won't do nowadays; nothing in the way -of pleasure can ever be given up by the young men of this age." - -"Do you know what kind of a girl Miss Grey is? Is she said to be -amiable?" - -"I never heard any harm of her; indeed I hardly ever heard her -mentioned; except that Mrs. Taylor did say this morning, that one day -Miss Walker hinted to her, that she believed Mr. and Mrs. Ellison -would not be sorry to have Miss Grey married, for she and Mrs. Ellison -could never agree." - -"And who are the Ellisons?" - -"Her guardians, my dear. But now she is of age and may choose for -herself; and a pretty choice she has made!--What now," after pausing a -moment, "your poor sister is gone to her own room, I suppose, to moan -by herself. Is there nothing one can get to comfort her? Poor dear, it -seems quite cruel to let her be alone. Well, by and by we shall have a -few friends, and that will amuse her a little. What shall we play at? -She hates whist I know; but is there no round game she cares for?" - -"Dear ma'am, this kindness is quite unnecessary. Marianne, I dare say, -will not leave her room again this evening. I shall persuade her if I -can to go early to bed, for I am sure she wants rest." - -"Aye, I believe that will be best for her. Let her name her own -supper, and go to bed. Lord! no wonder she has been looking so bad and -so cast down this last week or two, for this matter I suppose has been -hanging over her head as long as that. And so the letter that came -today finished it! Poor soul! I am sure if I had had a notion of it, I -would not have joked her about it for all my money. But then you know, -how should I guess such a thing? I made sure of its being nothing but -a common love letter, and you know young people like to be laughed at -about them. Lord! how concerned Sir John and my daughters will be when -they hear it! If I had my senses about me I might have called in -Conduit Street in my way home, and told them of it. But I shall see -them to-morrow." - -"It would be unnecessary I am sure, for you to caution Mrs. Palmer and -Sir John against ever naming Mr. Willoughby, or making the slightest -allusion to what has passed, before my sister. Their own good-nature -must point out to them the real cruelty of appearing to know any thing -about it when she is present; and the less that may ever be said to -myself on the subject, the more my feelings will be spared, as you my -dear madam will easily believe." - -"Oh! Lord! yes, that I do indeed. It must be terrible for you to hear -it talked of; and as for your sister, I am sure I would not mention a -word about it to her for the world. You saw I did not all dinner time. -No more would Sir John, nor my daughters, for they are all very -thoughtful and considerate; especially if I give them a hint, as I -certainly will. For my part, I think the less that is said about such -things, the better, the sooner 'tis blown over and forgot. And what -does talking ever do you know?" - -"In this affair it can only do harm; more so perhaps than in many -cases of a similar kind, for it has been attended by circumstances -which, for the sake of every one concerned in it, make it unfit to -become the public conversation. I must do _this_ justice to Mr. -Willoughby--he has broken no positive engagement with my sister." - -"Law, my dear! Don't pretend to defend him. No positive engagement -indeed! after taking her all over Allenham House, and fixing on the -very rooms they were to live in hereafter!" - -Elinor, for her sister's sake, could not press the subject farther, -and she hoped it was not required of her for Willoughby's; since, -though Marianne might lose much, he could gain very little by the -enforcement of the real truth. After a short silence on both sides, -Mrs. Jennings, with all her natural hilarity, burst forth again. - -"Well, my dear, 'tis a true saying about an ill wind, for it will be -all the better for Colonel Brandon. He will have her at last; aye, -that he will. Mind me, now, if they an't married by Mid-summer. Lord! -how he'll chuckle over this news! I hope he will come tonight. It will -be all to one a better match for your sister. Two thousand a year -without debt or drawback--except the little love-child, indeed; aye, I -had forgot her; but she may be 'prenticed out at a small cost, and -then what does it signify? Delaford is a nice place, I can tell you; -exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place, full of comforts and -conveniences; quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered -with the best fruit-trees in the country; and such a mulberry tree in -one corner! Lord! how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we were -there! Then, there is a dovecote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a -very pretty canal; and every thing, in short, that one could wish for; -and, moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile -from the turnpike-road, so 'tis never dull, for if you only go and sit -up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the -carriages that pass along. Oh! 'tis a nice place! A butcher hard by in -the village, and the parsonage-house within a stone's throw. To my -fancy, a thousand times prettier than Barton Park, where they are -forced to send three miles for their meat, and have not a neighbour -nearer than your mother. Well, I shall spirit up the Colonel as soon -as I can. One shoulder of mutton, you know, drives another down. If we -_can_ but put Willoughby out of her head!" - -"Ay, if we can do that, Ma'am," said Elinor, "we shall do very well -with or without Colonel Brandon." And then rising, she went away to -join Marianne, whom she found, as she expected, in her own room, -leaning, in silent misery, over the small remains of a fire, which, -till Elinor's entrance, had been her only light. - -"You had better leave me," was all the notice that her sister received -from her. - -"I will leave you," said Elinor, "if you will go to bed." But this, -from the momentary perverseness of impatient suffering, she at first -refused to do. Her sister's earnest, though gentle persuasion, -however, soon softened her to compliance, and Elinor saw her lay her -aching head on the pillow, and as she hoped, in a way to get some -quiet rest before she left her. - -In the drawing-room, whither she then repaired, she was soon joined by -Mrs. Jennings, with a wine-glass, full of something, in her hand. - -"My dear," said she, entering, "I have just recollected that I have -some of the finest old Constantia wine in the house that ever was -tasted, so I have brought a glass of it for your sister. My poor -husband! how fond he was of it! Whenever he had a touch of his old -colicky gout, he said it did him more good than any thing else in the -world. Do take it to your sister." - -"Dear Ma'am," replied Elinor, smiling at the difference of the -complaints for which it was recommended, "how good you are! But I have -just left Marianne in bed, and, I hope, almost asleep; and as I think -nothing will be of so much service to her as rest, if you will give me -leave, I will drink the wine myself." - -Mrs. Jennings, though regretting that she had not been five minutes -earlier, was satisfied with the compromise; and Elinor, as she -swallowed the chief of it, reflected, that though its effects on a -colicky gout were, at present, of little importance to her, its -healing powers, on a disappointed heart might be as reasonably tried -on herself as on her sister. - -Colonel Brandon came in while the party were at tea, and by his manner -of looking round the room for Marianne, Elinor immediately fancied -that he neither expected nor wished to see her there, and, in short, -that he was already aware of what occasioned her absence. Mrs. -Jennings was not struck by the same thought; for soon after his -entrance, she walked across the room to the tea-table where Elinor -presided, and whispered, "The Colonel looks as grave as ever you see. -He knows nothing of it; do tell him, my dear." - -[Illustration: "_How fond he was of it!_"] - -He shortly afterwards drew a chair close to her's, and, with a look -which perfectly assured her of his good information, inquired after -her sister. - -"Marianne is not well," said she. "She has been indisposed all day, -and we have persuaded her to go to bed." - -"Perhaps, then," he hesitatingly replied, "what I heard this morning -may be--there may be more truth in it than I could believe possible at -first." - -"What did you hear?" - -"That a gentleman, whom I had reason to think--in short, that a man, -whom I _knew_ to be engaged--but how shall I tell you? If you know it -already, as surely you must, I may be spared." - -"You mean," answered Elinor, with forced calmness, "Mr. Willoughby's -marriage with Miss Grey. Yes, we _do_ know it all. This seems to have -been a day of general elucidation, for this very morning first -unfolded it to us. Mr. Willoughby is unfathomable! Where did you hear -it?" - -"In a stationer's shop in Pall Mall, where I had business. Two ladies -were waiting for their carriage, and one of them was giving the other -an account of the intended match, in a voice so little attempting -concealment, that it was impossible for me not to hear all. The name -of Willoughby, John Willoughby, frequently repeated, first caught my -attention; and what followed was a positive assertion that every thing -was now finally settled respecting his marriage with Miss Grey--it was -no longer to be a secret--it would take place even within a few weeks, -with many particulars of preparations and other matters. One thing, -especially, I remember, because it served to identify the man still -more:--as soon as the ceremony was over, they were to go to Combe -Magna, his seat in Somersetshire. My astonishment!--but it would be -impossible to describe what I felt. The communicative lady I learnt, -on inquiry,--for I stayed in the shop till they were gone,--was a Mrs. -Ellison, and that, as I have been since informed, is the name of Miss -Grey's guardian." - -"It is. But have you likewise heard that Miss Grey has fifty thousand -pounds? In that, if in any thing, we may find an explanation." - -"It may be so; but Willoughby is capable--at least I think--" He -stopped a moment; then added in a voice which seemed to distrust -itself, "And your sister,--how did she,--" - -"Her sufferings have been very severe. I have only to hope that they -may be proportionately short. It has been, it is a most cruel -affliction. Till yesterday, I believe, she never doubted his regard; -and even now, perhaps--but _I_ am almost convinced that he never was -really attached to her. He has been very deceitful! and, in some -points, there seems a hardness of heart about him." - -"Ah!" said Colonel Brandon, "there is, indeed! But your sister does -not--I think you said so--she does not consider quite as you do?" - -"You know her disposition, and may believe how eagerly she would still -justify him if she could." - -He made no answer; and soon afterwards, by the removal of the -tea-things, and the arrangement of the card parties, the subject was -necessarily dropped. Mrs. Jennings, who had watched them with pleasure -while they were talking, and who expected to see the effect of Miss -Dashwood's communication, in such an instantaneous gaiety on Colonel -Brandon's side, as might have become a man in the bloom of youth, of -hope and happiness, saw him, with amazement, remain the whole evening -more serious and thoughtful than usual. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - - -From a night of more sleep than she had expected, Marianne awoke the -next morning to the same consciousness of misery in which she had -closed her eyes. - -Elinor encouraged her as much as possible to talk of what she felt; -and before breakfast was ready, they had gone through the subject -again and again; and with the same steady conviction and affectionate -counsel on Elinor's side, the same impetuous feelings and varying -opinions on Marianne's, as before. Sometimes she could believe -Willoughby to be as unfortunate and as innocent as herself, and at -others, lost every consolation in the impossibility of acquitting him. -At one moment she was absolutely indifferent to the observation of all -the world, at another she would seclude herself from it for ever, and -at a third could resist it with energy. In one thing, however, she -was uniform, when it came to the point, in avoiding, where it was -possible, the presence of Mrs. Jennings, and in a determined silence -when obliged to endure it. Her heart was hardened against the belief -of Mrs. Jennings's entering into her sorrows with any compassion. - -"No, no, no, it cannot be," she cried; "she cannot feel. Her kindness -is not sympathy; her good-nature is not tenderness. All that she wants -is gossip, and she only likes me now because I supply it." - -Elinor had not needed this to be assured of the injustice to which her -sister was often led in her opinion of others, by the irritable -refinement of her own mind, and the too great importance placed by her -on the delicacies of a strong sensibility, and the graces of a -polished manner. Like half the rest of the world, if more than half -there be that are clever and good, Marianne, with excellent abilities -and an excellent disposition, was neither reasonable nor candid. She -expected from other people the same opinions and feelings as her own, -and she judged of their motives by the immediate effect of their -actions on herself. Thus a circumstance occurred, while the sisters -were together in their own room after breakfast, which sunk the heart -of Mrs. Jennings still lower in her estimation; because, through her -own weakness, it chanced to prove a source of fresh pain to herself, -though Mrs. Jennings was governed in it by an impulse of the utmost -good-will. - -With a letter in her outstretched hand, and countenance gaily smiling, -from the persuasion of bringing comfort, she entered their room, -saying-- - -"Now, my dear, I bring you something that I am sure will do you good." - -Marianne heard enough. In one moment her imagination placed before her -a letter from Willoughby, full of tenderness and contrition, -explanatory of all that had passed, satisfactory, convincing; and -instantly followed by Willoughby himself, rushing eagerly into the -room to enforce, at her feet, by the eloquence of his eyes, the -assurances of his letter. The work of one moment was destroyed by the -next. The hand writing of her mother, never till then unwelcome, was -before her; and, in the acuteness of the disappointment which followed -such an ecstasy of more than hope, she felt as if, till that instant, -she had never suffered. - -The cruelty of Mrs. Jennings, no language, within her reach in her -moments of happiest eloquence, could have expressed; and now she could -reproach her only by the tears which streamed from her eyes with -passionate violence;--a reproach, however, so entirely lost on its -object, that after many expressions of pity, she withdrew, still -referring her to the letter of comfort. But the letter, when she was -calm enough to read it, brought little comfort. Willoughby filled -every page. Her mother, still confident of their engagement, and -relying as warmly as ever on his constancy, had only been roused by -Elinor's application, to entreat from Marianne greater openness -towards them both; and this, with such tenderness towards her, such -affection for Willoughby, and such a conviction of their future -happiness in each other, that she wept with agony through the whole of -it. - -All her impatience to be at home again now returned; her mother was -dearer to her than ever; dearer through the very excess of her -mistaken confidence in Willoughby, and she was wildly urgent to be -gone. Elinor, unable herself to determine whether it were better for -Marianne to be in London or at Barton, offered no counsel of her own -except of patience till their mother's wishes could be known; and at -length she obtained her sister's consent to wait for that knowledge. - -Mrs. Jennings left them earlier than usual; for she could not be easy -till the Middletons and Palmers were able to grieve as much as -herself; and positively refusing Elinor's offered attendance, went out -alone for the rest of the morning. Elinor, with a very heavy heart, -aware of the pain she was going to communicate, and perceiving, by -Marianne's letter, how ill she had succeeded in laying any foundation -for it, then sat down to write her mother an account of what had -passed, and entreat her directions for the future; while Marianne, who -came into the drawing-room on Mrs. Jennings's going away, remained -fixed at the table where Elinor wrote, watching the advancement of her -pen, grieving over her for the hardship of such a task, and grieving -still more fondly over its effect on her mother. - -In this manner they had continued about a quarter of an hour, when -Marianne, whose nerves could not then bear any sudden noise, was -startled by a rap at the door. - -"Who can this be?" cried Elinor. "So early too! I thought we _had_ -been safe." - -Marianne moved to the window-- - -"It is Colonel Brandon!" said she, with vexation. "We are never safe -from _him._" - -"He will not come in, as Mrs. Jennings is from home." - -"I will not trust to _that_," retreating to her own room. "A man who -has nothing to do with his own time has no conscience in his intrusion -on that of others." - -The event proved her conjecture right, though it was founded on -injustice and error; for Colonel Brandon _did_ come in; and Elinor, -who was convinced that solicitude for Marianne brought him thither, -and who saw _that_ solicitude in his disturbed and melancholy look, -and in his anxious though brief inquiry after her, could not forgive -her sister for esteeming him so lightly. - -"I met Mrs. Jennings in Bond Street," said he, after the first -salutation, "and she encouraged me to come on; and I was the more -easily encouraged, because I thought it probable that I might find you -alone, which I was very desirous of doing. My object--my wish--my sole -wish in desiring it--I hope, I believe it is--is to be a means of -giving comfort;--no, I must not say comfort--not present comfort--but -conviction, lasting conviction to your sister's mind. My regard for -her, for yourself, for your mother--will you allow me to prove it, by -relating some circumstances which nothing but a _very_ sincere -regard--nothing but an earnest desire of being useful--I think I am -justified--though where so many hours have been spent in convincing -myself that I am right, is there not some reason to fear I may be -wrong?" He stopped. - -"I understand you," said Elinor. "You have something to tell me of Mr. -Willoughby, that will open his character farther. Your telling it will -be the greatest act of friendship that can be shown Marianne. _My_ -gratitude will be insured immediately by any information tending to -that end, and _hers_ must be gained by it in time. Pray, pray let me -hear it." - -"You shall; and, to be brief, when I quitted Barton last October,--but -this will give you no idea--I must go farther back. You will find me a -very awkward narrator, Miss Dashwood; I hardly know where to begin. A -short account of myself, I believe, will be necessary, and it _shall_ -be a short one. On such a subject," sighing heavily, "can I have -little temptation to be diffuse." - -He stopt a moment for recollection, and then, with another sigh, went -on. - -"You have probably entirely forgotten a conversation--(it is not to be -supposed that it could make any impression on you)--a conversation -between us one evening at Barton Park--it was the evening of a -dance--in which I alluded to a lady I had once known, as resembling, -in some measure, your sister Marianne." - -"Indeed," answered Elinor, "I have _not_ forgotten it." He looked -pleased by this remembrance, and added-- - -"If I am not deceived by the uncertainty, the partiality of tender -recollection, there is a very strong resemblance between them, as well -in mind as person. The same warmth of heart, the same eagerness of -fancy and spirits. This lady was one of my nearest relations, an -orphan from her infancy, and under the guardianship of my father. Our -ages were nearly the same, and from our earliest years we were -playfellows and friends. I cannot remember the time when I did not -love Eliza; and my affection for her, as we grew up, was such, as -perhaps, judging from my present forlorn and cheerless gravity, you -might think me incapable of having ever felt. Her's, for me, was, I -believe, fervent as the attachment of your sister to Mr. Willoughby -and it was, though from a different cause, no less unfortunate. At -seventeen she was lost to me for ever. She was married--married -against her inclination to my brother. Her fortune was large, and our -family estate much encumbered. And this, I fear, is all that can be -said for the conduct of one, who was at once her uncle and guardian. -My brother did not deserve her; he did not even love her. I had hoped -that her regard for me would support her under any difficulty, and for -some time it did; but at last the misery of her situation, for she -experienced great unkindness, overcame all her resolution, and though -she had promised me that nothing--but how blindly I relate! I have -never told you how this was brought on. We were within a few hours of -eloping together for Scotland. The treachery, or the folly, of my -cousin's maid betrayed us. I was banished to the house of a relation -far distant, and she was allowed no liberty, no society, no amusement, -till my father's point was gained. I had depended on her fortitude too -far, and the blow was a severe one, but had her marriage been happy, -so young as I then was, a few months must have reconciled me to it, -or at least I should not have now to lament it. This however was not -the case. My brother had no regard for her; his pleasures were not -what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her -unkindly. The consequence of this, upon a mind so young, so lively, so -inexperienced as Mrs. Brandon's, was but too natural. She resigned -herself at first to all the misery of her situation; and happy had it -been if she had not lived to overcome those regrets which the -remembrance of me occasioned. But can we wonder that, with such a -husband to provoke inconstancy, and without a friend to advise or -restrain her (for my father lived only a few months after their -marriage, and I was with my regiment in the East Indies) she should -fall? Had I remained in England, perhaps--but I meant to promote the -happiness of both by removing from her for years, and for that purpose -had procured my exchange. The shock which her marriage had given me," -he continued, in a voice of great agitation, "was of trifling -weight--was nothing to what I felt when I heard, about two years -afterwards, of her divorce. It was _that_ which threw this -gloom,--even now the recollection of what I suffered--" - -He could say no more, and rising hastily walked for a few minutes -about the room. Elinor, affected by his relation, and still more by -his distress, could not speak. He saw her concern, and coming to her, -took her hand, pressed it, and kissed it with grateful respect. A few -minutes more of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure. - -"It was nearly three years after this unhappy period before I returned -to England. My first care, when I _did_ arrive, was of course to seek -for her; but the search was as fruitless as it was melancholy. I could -not trace her beyond her first seducer, and there was every reason to -fear that she had removed from him only to sink deeper in a life of -sin. Her legal allowance was not adequate to her fortune, nor -sufficient for her comfortable maintenance, and I learnt from my -brother that the power of receiving it had been made over some months -before to another person. He imagined, and calmly could he imagine it, -that her extravagance, and consequent distress, had obliged her to -dispose of it for some immediate relief. At last, however, and after I -had been six months in England, I _did_ find her. Regard for a former -servant of my own, who had since fallen into misfortune, carried me -to visit him in a spunging-house, where he was confined for debt; and -there, in the same house, under a similar confinement, was my -unfortunate sister. So altered--so faded--worn down by acute suffering -of every kind! hardly could I believe the melancholy and sickly figure -before me, to be the remains of the lovely, blooming, healthful girl, -on whom I had once doted. What I endured in so beholding her--but I -have no right to wound your feelings by attempting to describe it--I -have pained you too much already. That she was, to all appearance, in -the last stage of a consumption, was--yes, in such a situation it was -my greatest comfort. Life could do nothing for her, beyond giving time -for a better preparation for death; and that was given. I saw her -placed in comfortable lodgings, and under proper attendants; I visited -her every day during the rest of her short life: I was with her in her -last moments." - -Again he stopped to recover himself; and Elinor spoke her feelings in -an exclamation of tender concern, at the fate of his unfortunate -friend. - -"Your sister, I hope, cannot be offended," said he, "by the -resemblance I have fancied between her and my poor disgraced relation. -Their fates, their fortunes, cannot be the same; and had the natural -sweet disposition of the one been guarded by a firmer mind, or a -happier marriage, she might have been all that you will live to see -the other be. But to what does all this lead? I seem to have been -distressing you for nothing. Ah! Miss Dashwood--a subject such as -this--untouched for fourteen years--it is dangerous to handle it at -all! I _will_ be more collected--more concise. She left to my care her -only child, a little girl, the offspring of her first guilty -connection, who was then about three years old. She loved the child, -and had always kept it with her. It was a valued, a precious trust to -me; and gladly would I have discharged it in the strictest sense, by -watching over her education myself, had the nature of our situations -allowed it; but I had no family, no home; and my little Eliza was -therefore placed at school. I saw her there whenever I could, and -after the death of my brother, (which happened about five years ago, -and which left to me the possession of the family property,) she -visited me at Delaford. I called her a distant relation; but I am -well aware that I have in general been suspected of a much nearer -connection with her. It is now three years ago (she had just reached -her fourteenth year,) that I removed her from school, to place her -under the care of a very respectable woman, residing in Dorsetshire, -who had the charge of four or five other girls of about the same time -of life; and for two years I had every reason to be pleased with her -situation. But last February, almost a twelvemonth back, she suddenly -disappeared. I had allowed her, (imprudently, as it has since turned -out,) at her earnest desire, to go to Bath with one of her young -friends, who was attending her father there for his health. I knew him -to be a very good sort of man, and I thought well of his -daughter--better than she deserved, for, with a most obstinate and -ill-judged secrecy, she would tell nothing, would give no clue, though -she certainly knew all. He, her father, a well-meaning, but not a -quick-sighted man, could really, I believe, give no information; for -he had been generally confined to the house, while the girls were -ranging over the town and making what acquaintance they chose; and he -tried to convince me, as thoroughly as he was convinced himself, of -his daughter's being entirely unconcerned in the business. In short, I -could learn nothing but that she was gone; all the rest, for eight -long months, was left to conjecture. What I thought, what I feared, -may be imagined; and what I suffered too." - -"Good heavens!" cried Elinor, "could it be--could Willoughby!"-- - -"The first news that reached me of her," he continued, "came in a -letter from herself, last October. It was forwarded to me from -Delaford, and I received it on the very morning of our intended party -to Whitwell; and this was the reason of my leaving Barton so suddenly, -which I am sure must at the time have appeared strange to every body, -and which I believe gave offence to some. Little did Mr. Willoughby -imagine, I suppose, when his looks censured me for incivility in -breaking up the party, that I was called away to the relief of one -whom he had made poor and miserable; but _had_ he known it, what would -it have availed? Would he have been less gay or less happy in the -smiles of your sister? No, he had already done that, which no man who -_can_ feel for another would do. He had left the girl whose youth and -innocence he had seduced, in a situation of the utmost distress, with -no creditable home, no help, no friends, ignorant of his address! He -had left her, promising to return; he neither returned, nor wrote, nor -relieved her." - -"This is beyond every thing!" exclaimed Elinor. - -"His character is now before you; expensive, dissipated, and worse -than both. Knowing all this, as I have now known it many weeks, guess -what I must have felt on seeing your sister as fond of him as ever, -and on being assured that she was to marry him: guess what I must have -felt for all your sakes. When I came to you last week and found you -alone, I came determined to know the truth; though irresolute what to -do when it _was_ known. My behaviour must have seemed strange to you -then; but now you will comprehend it. To suffer you all to be so -deceived; to see your sister--but what could I do? I had no hope of -interfering with success; and sometimes I thought your sister's -influence might yet reclaim him. But now, after such dishonorable -usage, who can tell what were his designs on her. Whatever they may -have been, however, she may now, and hereafter doubtless _will_, turn -with gratitude towards her own condition, when she compares it with -that of my poor Eliza, when she considers the wretched and hopeless -situation of this poor girl, and pictures her to herself, with an -affection for him so strong, still as strong as her own, and with a -mind tormented by self-reproach, which must attend her through life. -Surely this comparison must have its use with her. She will feel her -own sufferings to be nothing. They proceed from no misconduct, and can -bring no disgrace. On the contrary, every friend must be made still -more her friend by them. Concern for her unhappiness, and respect for -her fortitude under it, must strengthen every attachment. Use your own -discretion, however, in communicating to her what I have told you. You -must know best what will be its effect; but had I not seriously, and -from my heart believed it might be of service, might lessen her -regrets, I would not have suffered myself to trouble you with this -account of my family afflictions, with a recital which may seem to -have been intended to raise myself at the expense of others." - -Elinor's thanks followed this speech with grateful earnestness; -attended too with the assurance of her expecting material advantage -to Marianne, from the communication of what had passed. - -"I have been more pained," said she, "by her endeavors to acquit him -than by all the rest; for it irritates her mind more than the most -perfect conviction of his unworthiness can do. Now, though at first -she will suffer much, I am sure she will soon become easier. Have -you," she continued, after a short silence, "ever seen Mr. Willoughby -since you left him at Barton?" - -"Yes," he replied gravely, "once I have. One meeting was unavoidable." - -Elinor, startled by his manner, looked at him anxiously, saying-- - -"What? have you met him to--" - -"I could meet him no other way. Eliza had confessed to me, though most -reluctantly, the name of her lover; and when he returned to town, -which was within a fortnight after myself, we met by appointment, he -to defend, I to punish his conduct. We returned unwounded, and the -meeting, therefore, never got abroad." - -Elinor sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a -soldier she presumed not to censure it. - -"Such," said Colonel Brandon, after a pause, "has been the unhappy -resemblance between the fate of mother and daughter! and so -imperfectly have I discharged my trust!" - -"Is she still in town?" - -"No; as soon as she recovered from her lying-in, for I found her near -her delivery, I removed her and her child into the country, and there -she remains." - -Recollecting, soon afterwards, that he was probably dividing Elinor -from her sister, he put an end to his visit, receiving from her again -the same grateful acknowledgments, and leaving her full of compassion -and esteem for him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - - -When the particulars of this conversation were repeated by Miss -Dashwood to her sister, as they very soon were, the effect on her was -not entirely such as the former had hoped to see. Not that Marianne -appeared to distrust the truth of any part of it, for she listened to -it all with the most steady and submissive attention, made neither -objection nor remark, attempted no vindication of Willoughby, and -seemed to show by her tears that she felt it to be impossible. But -though this behaviour assured Elinor that the conviction of this guilt -_was_ carried home to her mind, though she saw with satisfaction the -effect of it, in her no longer avoiding Colonel Brandon when he -called, in her speaking to him, even voluntarily speaking, with a kind -of compassionate respect, and though she saw her spirits less -violently irritated than before, she did not see her less wretched. -Her mind did become settled, but it was settled in a gloomy dejection. -She felt the loss of Willoughby's character yet more heavily than she -had felt the loss of his heart; his seduction and desertion of Miss -Williams, the misery of that poor girl, and the doubt of what his -designs might _once_ have been on herself, preyed altogether so much -on her spirits, that she could not bring herself to speak of what she -felt even to Elinor; and, brooding over her sorrows in silence, gave -more pain to her sister than could have been communicated by the most -open and most frequent confession of them. - -To give the feelings or the language of Mrs. Dashwood on receiving and -answering Elinor's letter would be only to give a repetition of what -her daughters had already felt and said; of a disappointment hardly -less painful than Marianne's, and an indignation even greater than -Elinor's. Long letters from her, quickly succeeding each other, -arrived to tell all that she suffered and thought; to express her -anxious solicitude for Marianne, and entreat she would bear up with -fortitude under this misfortune. Bad indeed must the nature of -Marianne's affliction be, when her mother could talk of fortitude! -mortifying and humiliating must be the origin of those regrets, which -_she_ could wish her not to indulge! - -Against the interest of her own individual comfort, Mrs. Dashwood had -determined that it would be better for Marianne to be any where, at -that time, than at Barton, where every thing within her view would be -bringing back the past in the strongest and most afflicting manner, by -constantly placing Willoughby before her, such as she had always seen -him there. She recommended it to her daughters, therefore, by all -means not to shorten their visit to Mrs. Jennings; the length of -which, though never exactly fixed, had been expected by all to -comprise at least five or six weeks. A variety of occupations, of -objects, and of company, which could not be procured at Barton, would -be inevitable there, and might yet, she hoped, cheat Marianne, at -times, into some interest beyond herself, and even into some -amusement, much as the ideas of both might now be spurned by her. - -From all danger of seeing Willoughby again, her mother considered her -to be at least equally safe in town as in the country, since his -acquaintance must now be dropped by all who called themselves her -friends. Design could never bring them in each other's way: negligence -could never leave them exposed to a surprise; and chance had less in -its favour in the crowd of London than even in the retirement of -Barton, where it might force him before her while paying that visit at -Allenham on his marriage, which Mrs. Dashwood, from foreseeing at -first as a probable event, had brought herself to expect as a certain -one. - -She had yet another reason for wishing her children to remain where -they were; a letter from her son-in-law had told her that he and his -wife were to be in town before the middle of February, and she judged -it right that they should sometimes see their brother. - -Marianne had promised to be guided by her mother's opinion, and she -submitted to it therefore without opposition, though it proved -perfectly different from what she wished and expected, though she felt -it to be entirely wrong, formed on mistaken grounds, and that by -requiring her longer continuance in London it deprived her of the only -possible alleviation of her wretchedness, the personal sympathy of her -mother, and doomed her to such society and such scenes as must prevent -her ever knowing a moment's rest. - -But it was a matter of great consolation to her, that what brought -evil to herself would bring good to her sister; and Elinor, on the -other hand, suspecting that it would not be in her power to avoid -Edward entirely, comforted herself by thinking, that though their -longer stay would therefore militate against her own happiness, it -would be better for Marianne than an immediate return into Devonshire. - -Her carefulness in guarding her sister from ever hearing Willoughby's -name mentioned, was not thrown away. Marianne, though without knowing -it herself, reaped all its advantage; for neither Mrs. Jennings, nor -Sir John, nor even Mrs. Palmer herself, ever spoke of him before her. -Elinor wished that the same forbearance could have extended towards -herself, but that was impossible, and she was obliged to listen day -after day to the indignation of them all. - -Sir John, could not have thought it possible. "A man of whom he had -always had such reason to think well! Such a good-natured fellow! He -did not believe there was a bolder rider in England! It was an -unaccountable business. He wished him at the devil with all his heart. -He would not speak another word to him, meet him where he might, for -all the world! No, not if it were to be by the side of Barton covert, -and they were kept watching for two hours together. Such a scoundrel -of a fellow! such a deceitful dog! It was only the last time they met -that he had offered him one of Folly's puppies! and this was the end -of it!" - -Mrs. Palmer, in her way, was equally angry. "She was determined to -drop his acquaintance immediately, and she was very thankful that she -had never been acquainted with him at all. She wished with all her -heart Combe Magna was not so near Cleveland; but it did not signify, -for it was a great deal too far off to visit; she hated him so much -that she was resolved never to mention his name again, and she should -tell everybody she saw, how good-for-nothing he was." - -The rest of Mrs. Palmer's sympathy was shown in procuring all the -particulars in her power of the approaching marriage, and -communicating them to Elinor. She could soon tell at what coachmaker's -the new carriage was building, by what painter Mr. Willoughby's -portrait was drawn, and at what warehouse Miss Grey's clothes might be -seen. - -[Illustration: _Offered him one of Folly's puppies._] - -The calm and polite unconcern of Lady Middleton on the occasion was a -happy relief to Elinor's spirits, oppressed as they often were by -the clamorous kindness of the others. It was a great comfort to her to -be sure of exciting no interest in _one_ person at least among their -circle of friends: a great comfort to know that there was _one_ who -would meet her without feeling any curiosity after particulars, or any -anxiety for her sister's health. - -Every qualification is raised at times, by the circumstances of the -moment, to more than its real value; and she was sometimes worried -down by officious condolence to rate good-breeding as more -indispensable to comfort than good-nature. - -Lady Middleton expressed her sense of the affair about once every day, -or twice, if the subject occurred very often, by saying, "It is very -shocking, indeed!" and by the means of this continual though gentle -vent, was able not only to see the Miss Dashwoods from the first -without the smallest emotion, but very soon to see them without -recollecting a word of the matter; and having thus supported the -dignity of her own sex, and spoken her decided censure of what was -wrong in the other, she thought herself at liberty to attend to the -interest of her own assemblies, and therefore determined (though -rather against the opinion of Sir John) that as Mrs. Willoughby would -at once be a woman of elegance and fortune, to leave her card with her -as soon as she married. - -Colonel Brandon's delicate, unobtrusive enquiries were never unwelcome -to Miss Dashwood. He had abundantly earned the privilege of intimate -discussion of her sister's disappointment, by the friendly zeal with -which he had endeavoured to soften it, and they always conversed with -confidence. His chief reward for the painful exertion of disclosing -past sorrows and present humiliations, was given in the pitying eye -with which Marianne sometimes observed him, and the gentleness of her -voice whenever (though it did not often happen) she was obliged, or -could oblige herself to speak to him. _These_ assured him that his -exertion had produced an increase of good-will towards himself, and -_these_ gave Elinor hopes of its being farther augmented hereafter; -but Mrs. Jennings, who knew nothing of all this, who knew only that -the Colonel continued as grave as ever, and that she could neither -prevail on him to make the offer himself, nor commission her to make -it for him, began, at the end of two days, to think that, instead of -Mid-summer, they would not be married till Michaelmas, and by the end -of a week that it would not be a match at all. The good understanding -between the Colonel and Miss Dashwood seemed rather to declare that -the honours of the mulberry-tree, the canal, and the yew arbour, would -all be made over to _her_; and Mrs. Jennings had, for some time ceased -to think at all of Mrs. Ferrars. - -Early in February, within a fortnight from the receipt of Willoughby's -letter, Elinor had the painful office of informing her sister that he -was married. She had taken care to have the intelligence conveyed to -herself, as soon as it was known that the ceremony was over, as she -was desirous that Marianne should not receive the first notice of it -from the public papers, which she saw her eagerly examining every -morning. - -She received the news with resolute composure; made no observation on -it, and at first shed no tears; but after a short time they would -burst out, and for the rest of the day, she was in a state hardly less -pitiable than when she first learnt to expect the event. - -The Willoughbys left town as soon as they were married; and Elinor now -hoped, as there could be no danger of her seeing either of them, to -prevail on her sister, who had never yet left the house since the blow -first fell, to go out again by degrees as she had done before. - -About this time the two Miss Steeles, lately arrived at their cousin's -house in Bartlett's Buildings, Holborn, presented themselves again -before their more grand relations in Conduit and Berkeley Streets; and -were welcomed by them all with great cordiality. - -Elinor only was sorry to see them. Their presence always gave her -pain, and she hardly knew how to make a very gracious return to the -overpowering delight of Lucy in finding her _still_ in town. - -"I should have been quite disappointed if I had not found you here -_still_," said she repeatedly, with a strong emphasis on the word. -"But I always thought I _should_ I was almost sure you would not leave -London yet awhile; though you _told_ me, you know, at Barton, that you -should not stay above a _month._ But I thought, at the time, that you -would most likely change your mind when it came to the point. It would -have been such a great pity to have went away before your brother and -sister came. And now to be sure you will be in no _hurry_ to be gone. -I am amazingly glad you did not keep to _your word._" - -Elinor perfectly understood her, and was forced to use all her -self-command to make it appear that she did _not._ - -"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Jennings, "and how did you travel?" - -"Not in the stage, I assure you," replied Miss Steele, with quick -exultation; "we came post all the way, and had a very smart beau to -attend us. Dr. Davies was coming to town, and so we thought we'd join -him in a post-chaise; and he behaved very genteelly, and paid ten or -twelve shillings more than we did." - -"Oh, oh!" cried Mrs. Jennings; "very pretty, indeed! and the Doctor is -a single man, I warrant you." - -"There now," said Miss Steele, affectedly simpering, "everybody laughs -at me so about the Doctor, and I cannot think why. My cousins say they -are sure I have made a conquest; but for my part I declare I never -think about him from one hour's end to another. 'Lord! here comes your -beau, Nancy,' my cousin said t'other day, when she saw him crossing -the street to the house. My beau, indeed! said I--I cannot think who -you mean. The Doctor is no beau of mine." - -"Aye, aye, that is very pretty talking--but it won't do--the Doctor is -the man, I see." - -"No, indeed!" replied her cousin, with affected earnestness, "and I -beg you will contradict it, if you ever hear it talked of." - -Mrs. Jennings directly gave her the gratifying assurance that she -certainly would _not_, and Miss Steele was made completely happy. - -"I suppose you will go and stay with your brother and sister, Miss -Dashwood, when they come to town," said Lucy, returning, after a -cessation of hostile hints, to the charge. - -"No, I do not think we shall." - -"Oh, yes, I dare say you will." - -Elinor would not humour her by farther opposition. - -"What a charming thing it is that Mrs. Dashwood can spare you both for -so long a time together!" - -"Long a time, indeed!" interposed Mrs. Jennings. "Why, their visit is -but just begun!" - -[Illustration: _A very smart beau._] - -Lucy was silenced. - -"I am sorry we cannot see your sister, Miss Dashwood," said Miss -Steele. "I am sorry she is not well--" for Marianne had left the room -on their arrival. - -"You are very good. My sister will be equally sorry to miss the -pleasure of seeing you; but she has been very much plagued lately with -nervous head-aches, which make her unfit for company or conversation." - -"Oh, dear, that is a great pity! but such old friends as Lucy and -me!--I think she might see _us_; and I am sure we would not speak a -word." - -Elinor, with great civility, declined the proposal. Her sister was -perhaps laid down upon the bed, or in her dressing gown, and therefore -not able to come to them. - -"Oh, if that's all," cried Miss Steele, "we can just as well go and -see _her._" - -Elinor began to find this impertinence too much for her temper; but -she was saved the trouble of checking it, by Lucy's sharp reprimand, -which now, as on many occasions, though it did not give much sweetness -to the manners of one sister, was of advantage in governing those of -the other. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - - -After some opposition, Marianne yielded to her sister's entreaties, -and consented to go out with her and Mrs. Jennings one morning for -half an hour. She expressly conditioned, however, for paying no -visits, and would do no more than accompany them to Gray's in -Sackville Street, where Elinor was carrying on a negotiation for the -exchange of a few old-fashioned jewels of her mother. - -When they stopped at the door, Mrs. Jennings recollected that there -was a lady at the other end of the street on whom she ought to call; -and as she had no business at Gray's, it was resolved, that while her -young friends transacted their's, she should pay her visit and return -for them. - -On ascending the stairs, the Miss Dashwoods found so many people -before them in the room, that there was not a person at liberty to -tend to their orders; and they were obliged to wait. All that could be -done was, to sit down at that end of the counter which seemed to -promise the quickest succession; one gentleman only was standing -there, and it is probable that Elinor was not without hope of exciting -his politeness to a quicker despatch. But the correctness of his eye, -and the delicacy of his taste, proved to be beyond his politeness. He -was giving orders for a toothpick-case for himself, and till its size, -shape, and ornaments were determined, all of which, after examining -and debating for a quarter of an hour over every toothpick-case in the -shop, were finally arranged by his own inventive fancy, he had no -leisure to bestow any other attention on the two ladies, than what was -comprised in three or four very broad stares; a kind of notice which -served to imprint on Elinor the remembrance of a person and face, of -strong, natural, sterling insignificance, though adorned in the first -style of fashion. - -Marianne was spared from the troublesome feelings of contempt and -resentment, on this impertinent examination of their features, and on -the puppyism of his manner in deciding on all the different horrors of -the different toothpick-cases presented to his inspection, by -remaining unconscious of it all; for she was as well able to collect -her thoughts within herself, and be as ignorant of what was passing -around her, in Mr. Gray's shop, as in her own bedroom. - -At last the affair was decided. The ivory, the gold, and the pearls, -all received their appointment, and the gentleman having named the -last day on which his existence could be continued without the -possession of the toothpick-case, drew on his gloves with leisurely -care, and bestowing another glance on the Miss Dashwoods, but such a -one as seemed rather to demand than express admiration, walked off -with a happy air of real conceit and affected indifference. - -Elinor lost no time in bringing her business forward, was on the point -of concluding it, when another gentleman presented himself at her -side. She turned her eyes towards his face, and found him with some -surprise to be her brother. - -[Illustration: _Introduced to Mrs. Jennings._] - -Their affection and pleasure in meeting was just enough to make a very -creditable appearance in Mr. Gray's shop. John Dashwood was really far -from being sorry to see his sisters again; it rather gave them -satisfaction; and his inquiries after their mother were respectful and -attentive. - -Elinor found that he and Fanny had been in town two days. - -"I wished very much to call upon you yesterday," said he, "but it was -impossible, for we were obliged to take Harry to see the wild beasts -at Exeter Exchange; and we spent the rest of the day with Mrs. -Ferrars. Harry was vastly pleased. _This_ morning I had fully intended -to call on you, if I could possibly find a spare half hour, but one -has always so much to do on first coming to town. I am come here to -bespeak Fanny a seal. But tomorrow I think I shall certainly be able -to call in Berkeley Street, and be introduced to your friend Mrs. -Jennings. I understand she is a woman of very good fortune. And the -Middletons too, you must introduce me to _them_. As my mother-in-law's -relations, I shall be happy to show them every respect. They are -excellent neighbours to you in the country, I understand." - -"Excellent indeed. Their attention to our comfort, their friendliness -in every particular, is more than I can express." - -"I am extremely glad to hear it, upon my word; extremely glad indeed. -But so it ought to be; they are people of large fortune, they are -related to you, and every civility and accommodation that can serve to -make your situation pleasant might be reasonably expected. And so you -are most comfortably settled in your little cottage and want for -nothing! Edward brought us a most charming account of the place: the -most complete thing of its kind, he said, that ever was, and you all -seemed to enjoy it beyond any thing. It was a great satisfaction to us -to hear it, I assure you." - -Elinor did feel a little ashamed of her brother; and was not sorry to -be spared the necessity of answering him, by the arrival of Mrs. -Jennings's servant, who came to tell her that his mistress waited for -them at the door. - -Mr. Dashwood attended them down stairs, was introduced to Mrs. -Jennings at the door of her carriage, and repeating his hope of being -able to call on them the next day, took leave. - -[Illustration: _Mrs. Jennings assured him directly that she should not -stand upon ceremony._] - -His visit was duly paid. He came with a pretence at an apology from -their sister-in-law, for not coming too; "but she was so much engaged -with her mother, that really she had no leisure for going any where." -Mrs. Jennings, however, assured him directly, that she should not -stand upon ceremony, for they were all cousins, or something like -it, and she should certainly wait on Mrs. John Dashwood very soon, and -bring her sisters to see her. His manners to _them_, though calm, were -perfectly kind; to Mrs. Jennings, most attentively civil; and on -Colonel Brandon's coming in soon after himself, he eyed him with a -curiosity which seemed to say, that he only wanted to know him to be -rich, to be equally civil to _him._ - -After staying with them half an hour, he asked Elinor to walk with him -to Conduit Street, and introduce him to Sir John and Lady Middleton. -The weather was remarkably fine, and she readily consented. As soon as -they were out of the house, his enquiries began. - -"Who is Colonel Brandon? Is he a man of fortune?" - -"Yes; he has very good property in Dorsetshire." - -"I am glad of it. He seems a most gentlemanlike man; and I think, -Elinor, I may congratulate you on the prospect of a very respectable -establishment in life." - -"Me, brother! what do you mean?" - -"He likes you. I observed him narrowly, and am convinced of it. What -is the amount of his fortune?" - -"I believe about two thousand a year." - -"Two thousand a-year;" and then working himself up to a pitch of -enthusiastic generosity, he added, "Elinor, I wish with all my heart -it were _twice_ as much, for your sake." - -"Indeed I believe you," replied Elinor; "but I am very sure that -Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish of marrying _me._ - -"You are mistaken, Elinor; you are very much mistaken. A very little -trouble on your side secures him. Perhaps just at present he may be -undecided; the smallness of your fortune may make him hang back; his -friends may all advise him against it. But some of those little -attentions and encouragements which ladies can so easily give will fix -him, in spite of himself. And there can be no reason why you should -not try for him. It is not to be supposed that any prior attachment on -your side--in short, you know as to an attachment of that kind, it is -quite out of the question, the objections are insurmountable--you have -too much sense not to see all that. Colonel Brandon must be the man; -and no civility shall be wanting on my part to make him pleased with -you and your family. It is a match that must give universal -satisfaction. In short, it is a kind of thing that," lowering his -voice to an important whisper, "will be exceedingly welcome to _all -parties._" Recollecting himself, however, he added, "That is, I mean -to say--your friends are all truly anxious to see you well settled; -Fanny particularly, for she has your interest very much at heart, I -assure you. And her mother too, Mrs. Ferrars, a very good-natured -woman, I am sure it would give her great pleasure; she said as much -the other day." - -Elinor would not vouchsafe any answer. - -"It would be something remarkable, now," he continued, "something -droll, if Fanny should have a brother and I a sister settling at the -same time. And yet it is not very unlikely." - -"Is Mr. Edward Ferrars," said Elinor, with resolution, "going to be -married?" - -"It is not actually settled, but there is such a thing in agitation. -He has a most excellent mother. Mrs. Ferrars, with the utmost -liberality, will come forward, and settle on him a thousand a year, if -the match takes place. The lady is the Hon. Miss Morton, only daughter -of the late Lord Morton, with thirty thousand pounds. A very desirable -connection on both sides, and I have not a doubt of its taking place -in time. A thousand a-year is a great deal for a mother to give away, -to make over for ever; but Mrs. Ferrars has a noble spirit. To give -you another instance of her liberality:--The other day, as soon as we -came to town, aware that money could not be very plenty with us just -now, she put bank-notes into Fanny's hands to the amount of two -hundred pounds. And extremely acceptable it is, for we must live at a -great expense while we are here." - -He paused for her assent and compassion; and she forced herself to -say-- - -"Your expenses both in town and country must certainly be -considerable; but your income is a large one." - -"Not so large, I dare say, as many people suppose. I do not mean to -complain, however; it is undoubtedly a comfortable one, and I hope -will in time be better. The enclosure of Norland Common, now carrying -on, is a most serious drain. And then I have made a little purchase -within this half year; East Kingham Farm, you must remember the place, -where old Gibson used to live. The land was so very desirable for me -in every respect, so immediately adjoining my own property, that I -felt it my duty to buy it. I could not have answered it to my -conscience to let it fall into any other hands. A man must pay for his -convenience; and it _has_ cost me a vast deal of money." - -"More than you think it really and intrinsically worth." - -"Why, I hope not that. I might have sold it again, the next day, for -more than I gave: but, with regard to the purchase-money, I might have -been very unfortunate indeed; for the stocks were at that time so low, -that if I had not happened to have the necessary sum in my banker's -hands, I must have sold out to very great loss." - -Elinor could only smile. - -"Other great and inevitable expenses too we have had on first coming -to Norland. Our respected father, as you well know, bequeathed all the -Stanhill effects that remained at Norland (and very valuable they -were) to your mother. Far be it from me to repine at his doing so; he -had an undoubted right to dispose of his own property as he chose, -but, in consequence of it, we have been obliged to make large -purchases of linen, china, &c. to supply the place of what was taken -away. You may guess, after all these expenses, how very far we must be -from being rich, and how acceptable Mrs. Ferrars's kindness is." - -"Certainly," said Elinor; "and assisted by her liberality, I hope you -may yet live to be in easy circumstances." - -"Another year or two may do much towards it," he gravely replied; "but -however there is still a great deal to be done. There is not a stone -laid of Fanny's green-house, and nothing but the plan of the -flower-garden marked out." - -"Where is the green-house to be?" - -"Upon the knoll behind the house. The old walnut trees are all come -down to make room for it. It will be a very fine object from many -parts of the park, and the flower-garden will slope down just before -it, and be exceedingly pretty. We have cleared away all the old thorns -that grew in patches over the brow." - -Elinor kept her concern and her censure to herself; and was very -thankful that Marianne was not present, to share the provocation. - -Having now said enough to make his poverty clear, and to do away the -necessity of buying a pair of ear-rings for each of his sisters, in -his next visit at Gray's his thoughts took a cheerfuller turn, and he -began to congratulate Elinor on having such a friend as Mrs. Jennings. - -"She seems a most valuable woman indeed--Her house, her style of -living, all bespeak an exceeding good income; and it is an -acquaintance that has not only been of great use to you hitherto, but -in the end may prove materially advantageous. Her inviting you to town -is certainly a vast thing in your favour; and indeed, it speaks -altogether so great a regard for you, that in all probability when she -dies you will not be forgotten. She must have a great deal to leave." - -"Nothing at all, I should rather suppose; for she has only her -jointure, which will descend to her children." - -"But it is not to be imagined that she lives up to her income. Few -people of common prudence will do _that_; and whatever she saves, she -will be able to dispose of." - -"And do you not think it more likely that she should leave it to her -daughters, than to us?" - -"Her daughters are both exceedingly well married, and therefore I -cannot perceive the necessity of her remembering them farther. -Whereas, in my opinion, by her taking so much notice of you, and -treating you in this kind of way, she has given you a sort of claim on -her future consideration, which a conscientious woman would not -disregard. Nothing can be kinder than her behaviour; and she can -hardly do all this, without being aware of the expectation it raises." - -"But she raises none in those most concerned. Indeed, brother, your -anxiety for our welfare and prosperity carries you too far." - -"Why, to be sure," said he, seeming to recollect himself, "people have -little, have very little in their power. But, my dear Elinor, what is -the matter with Marianne?--she looks very unwell, has lost her colour, -and is grown quite thin. Is she ill?" - -"She is not well, she has had a nervous complaint on her for several -weeks." - -"I am sorry for that. At her time of life, any thing of an illness -destroys the bloom for ever! Her's has been a very short one! She was -as handsome a girl last September, as I ever saw; and as likely to -attract the man. There was something in her style of beauty, to -please them particularly. I remember Fanny used to say that she would -marry sooner and better than you did; not but what she is exceedingly -fond of _you_, but so it happened to strike her. She will be mistaken, -however. I question whether Marianne _now_, will marry a man worth -more than five or six hundred a-year, at the utmost, and I am very -much deceived if _you_ do not do better. Dorsetshire! I know very -little of Dorsetshire; but, my dear Elinor, I shall be exceedingly -glad to know more of it; and I think I can answer for your having -Fanny and myself among the earliest and best pleased of your -visitors." - -Elinor tried very seriously to convince him that there was no -likelihood of her marrying Colonel Brandon; but it was an expectation -of too much pleasure to himself to be relinquished, and he was really -resolved on seeking an intimacy with that gentleman, and promoting the -marriage by every possible attention. He had just compunction enough -for having done nothing for his sisters himself, to be exceedingly -anxious that everybody else should do a great deal; and an offer from -Colonel Brandon, or a legacy from Mrs. Jennings, was the easiest means -of atoning for his own neglect. - -They were lucky enough to find Lady Middleton at home, and Sir John -came in before their visit ended. Abundance of civilities passed on -all sides. Sir John was ready to like anybody, and though Mr. Dashwood -did not seem to know much about horses, he soon set him down as a very -good-natured fellow: while Lady Middleton saw enough of fashion in his -appearance to think his acquaintance worth having; and Mr. Dashwood -went away delighted with both. - -"I shall have a charming account to carry to Fanny," said he, as he -walked back with his sister. "Lady Middleton is really a most elegant -woman! Such a woman as I am sure Fanny will be glad to know. And Mrs. -Jennings too, an exceedingly well-behaved woman, though not so elegant -as her daughter. Your sister need not have any scruple even of -visiting _her_, which, to say the truth, has been a little the case, -and very naturally; for we only knew that Mrs. Jennings was the widow -of a man who had got all his money in a low way; and Fanny and Mrs. -Ferrars were both strongly prepossessed, that neither she nor her -daughters were such kind of women as Fanny would like to associate -with. But now I can carry her a most satisfactory account of both." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - - -Mrs. John Dashwood had so much confidence in her husband's judgment, -that she waited the very next day both on Mrs. Jennings and her -daughter; and her confidence was rewarded by finding even the former, -even the woman with whom her sisters were staying, by no means -unworthy her notice; and as for Lady Middleton, she found her one of -the most charming women in the world! - -Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. Dashwood. There was a -kind of cold hearted selfishness on both sides, which mutually -attracted them; and they sympathised with each other in an insipid -propriety of demeanor, and a general want of understanding. - -The same manners, however, which recommended Mrs. John Dashwood to the -good opinion of Lady Middleton did not suit the fancy of Mrs. -Jennings, and to _her_ she appeared nothing more than a little -proud-looking woman of uncordial address, who met her husband's -sisters without any affection, and almost without having anything to -say to them; for of the quarter of an hour bestowed on Berkeley -Street, she sat at least seven minutes and a half in silence. - -Elinor wanted very much to know, though she did not choose to ask, -whether Edward was then in town; but nothing would have induced Fanny -voluntarily to mention his name before her, till able to tell her that -his marriage with Miss Morton was resolved on, or till her husband's -expectations on Colonel Brandon were answered; because she believed -them still so very much attached to each other, that they could not be -too sedulously divided in word and deed on every occasion. The -intelligence however, which _she_ would not give, soon flowed from -another quarter. Lucy came very shortly to claim Elinor's compassion -on being unable to see Edward, though he had arrived in town with Mr. -and Mrs. Dashwood. He dared not come to Bartlett's Buildings for fear -of detection, and though their mutual impatience to meet, was not to -be told, they could do nothing at present but write. - -Edward assured them himself of his being in town, within a very short -time, by twice calling in Berkeley Street. Twice was his card found on -the table, when they returned from their morning's engagements. Elinor -was pleased that he had called; and still more pleased that she had -missed him. - -The Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted with the Middletons, -that, though not much in the habit of giving anything, they determined -to give them--a dinner; and soon after their acquaintance began, -invited them to dine in Harley Street, where they had taken a very -good house for three months. Their sisters and Mrs. Jennings were -invited likewise, and John Dashwood was careful to secure Colonel -Brandon, who, always glad to be where the Miss Dashwoods were, -received his eager civilities with some surprise, but much more -pleasure. They were to meet Mrs. Ferrars; but Elinor could not learn -whether her sons were to be of the party. The expectation of seeing -_her_, however, was enough to make her interested in the engagement; -for though she could now meet Edward's mother without that strong -anxiety which had once promised to attend such an introduction, though -she could now see her with perfect indifference as to her opinion of -herself, her desire of being in company with Mrs. Ferrars, her -curiosity to know what she was like, was as lively as ever. - -The interest with which she thus anticipated the party, was soon -afterwards increased, more powerfully than pleasantly, by her hearing -that the Miss Steeles were also to be at it. - -So well had they recommended themselves to Lady Middleton, so -agreeable had their assiduities made them to her, that though Lucy was -certainly not so elegant, and her sister not even genteel, she was as -ready as Sir John to ask them to spend a week or two in Conduit -Street; and it happened to be particularly convenient to the Miss -Steeles, as soon as the Dashwoods' invitation was known, that their -visit should begin a few days before the party took place. - -Their claims to the notice of Mrs. John Dashwood, as the nieces of -the gentleman who for many years had had the care of her brother, -might not have done much, however, towards procuring them seats at her -table; but as Lady Middleton's guests they must be welcome; and Lucy, -who had long wanted to be personally known to the family, to have a -nearer view of their characters and her own difficulties, and to have -an opportunity of endeavouring to please them, had seldom been happier -in her life, than she was on receiving Mrs. John Dashwood's card. - -On Elinor its effect was very different. She began immediately to -determine, that Edward who lived with his mother, must be asked as his -mother was, to a party given by his sister; and to see him for the -first time, after all that passed, in the company of Lucy!--she hardly -knew how she could bear it! - -These apprehensions, perhaps, were not founded entirely on reason, and -certainly not at all on truth. They were relieved however, not by her -own recollection, but by the good will of Lucy, who believed herself -to be inflicting a severe disappointment when she told her that Edward -certainly would not be in Harley Street on Tuesday, and even hoped to -be carrying the pain still farther by persuading her that he was kept -away by the extreme affection for herself, which he could not conceal -when they were together. - -The important Tuesday came that was to introduce the two young ladies -to this formidable mother-in-law. - -"Pity me, dear Miss Dashwood!" said Lucy, as they walked up the stairs -together--for the Middletons arrived so directly after Mrs. Jennings, -that they all followed the servant at the same time--"There is nobody -here but you, that can feel for me. I declare I can hardly stand. Good -gracious!--In a moment I shall see the person that all my happiness -depends on--that is to be my mother!"-- - -Elinor could have given her immediate relief by suggesting the -possibility of its being Miss Morton's mother, rather than her own, -whom they were about to behold; but instead of doing that, she assured -her, and with great sincerity, that she did pity her--to the utter -amazement of Lucy, who, though really uncomfortable herself, hoped at -least to be an object of irrepressible envy to Elinor. - -Mrs. Ferrars was a little, thin woman, upright, even to formality, in -her figure, and serious, even to sourness, in her aspect. Her -complexion was sallow; and her features small, without beauty, and -naturally without expression; but a lucky contraction of the brow had -rescued her countenance from the disgrace of insipidity, by giving it -the strong characters of pride and ill nature. She was not a woman of -many words; for, unlike people in general, she proportioned them to -the number of her ideas; and of the few syllables that did escape her, -not one fell to the share of Miss Dashwood, whom she eyed with the -spirited determination of disliking her at all events. - -Elinor could not _now_ be made unhappy by this behaviour. A few months -ago it would have hurt her exceedingly; but it was not in Mrs. -Ferrars' power to distress her by it now; and the difference of her -manners to the Miss Steeles, a difference which seemed purposely made -to humble her more, only amused her. She could not but smile to see -the graciousness of both mother and daughter towards the very -person--for Lucy was particularly distinguished--whom of all others, -had they known as much as she did, they would have been most anxious -to mortify; while she herself, who had comparatively no power to wound -them, sat pointedly slighted by both. But while she smiled at a -graciousness so misapplied, she could not reflect on the mean-spirited -folly from which it sprung, nor observe the studied attentions with -which the Miss Steeles courted its continuance, without thoroughly -despising them all four. - -Lucy was all exultation on being so honorably distinguished; and Miss -Steele wanted only to be teased about Dr. Davies to be perfectly -happy. - -The dinner was a grand one, the servants were numerous, and every -thing bespoke the Mistress's inclination for show, and the Master's -ability to support it. In spite of the improvements and additions -which were making to the Norland estate, and in spite of its owner -having once been within some thousand pounds of being obliged to sell -out at a loss, nothing gave any symptom of that indigence which he had -tried to infer from it; no poverty of any kind, except of -conversation, appeared; but there, the deficiency was considerable. -John Dashwood had not much to say for himself that was worth hearing, -and his wife had still less. But there was no peculiar disgrace in -this; for it was very much the case with the chief of their visitors, -who almost all laboured under one or other of these disqualifications -for being agreeable--Want of sense, either natural or improved--want -of elegance--want of spirits--or want of temper. - -When the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room after dinner, this -poverty was particularly evident, for the gentlemen _had_ supplied the -discourse with some variety--the variety of politics, inclosing land, -and breaking horses--but then it was all over; and one subject only -engaged the ladies till coffee came in, which was the comparative -heights of Harry Dashwood, and Lady Middleton's second son William, -who were nearly of the same age. - -Had both the children been there, the affair might have been -determined too easily by measuring them at once; but as Harry only was -present, it was all conjectural assertion on both sides; and every -body had a right to be equally positive in their opinion, and to -repeat it over and over again as often as they liked. - -The parties stood thus:-- - -The two mothers, though each really convinced that her own son was the -tallest, politely decided in favour of the other. The two -grandmothers, with not less partiality, but more sincerity, were -equally earnest in support of their own descendant. - -Lucy, who was hardly less anxious to please one parent than the other, -thought the boys were both remarkably tall for their age, and could -not conceive that there could be the smallest difference in the world -between them; and Miss Steele, with yet greater address gave it, as -fast as she could, in favour of each. - -Elinor, having once delivered her opinion on William's side, by which -she offended Mrs. Ferrars and Fanny still more, did not see the -necessity of enforcing it by any farther assertion; and Marianne, when -called on for her's, offended them all, by declaring that she had no -opinion to give, as she had never thought about it. - -Before her removing from Norland, Elinor had painted a very pretty -pair of screens for her sister-in-law, which being now just mounted -and brought home, ornamented her present drawing room; and these -screens, catching the eye of John Dashwood on his following the other -gentlemen into the room, were officiously handed by him to Colonel -Brandon for his admiration. - -"These are done by my eldest sister," said he; "and you, as a man of -taste, will, I dare say, be pleased with them. I do not know whether -you have ever happened to see any of her performances before, but she -is in general reckoned to draw extremely well." - -The Colonel, though disclaiming all pretensions to connoisseurship, -warmly admired the screens, as he would have done any thing painted by -Miss Dashwood; and on the curiosity of the others being of course -excited, they were handed round for general inspection. Mrs. Ferrars, -not aware of their being Elinor's work, particularly requested to look -at them; and after they had received gratifying testimony of Lady -Middleton's approbation, Fanny presented them to her mother, -considerately informing her, at the same time, that they were done by -Miss Dashwood. - -"Hum"--said Mrs. Ferrars--"very pretty,"--and without regarding them -at all, returned them to her daughter. - -Perhaps Fanny thought for a moment that her mother had been quite rude -enough,--for, colouring a little, she immediately said-- - -"They are very pretty, ma'am--an't they?" But then again, the dread of -having been too civil, too encouraging herself, probably came over -her, for she presently added, "Do you not think they are something in -Miss Morton's style of painting, Ma'am?--She _does_ paint most -delightfully!--How beautifully her last landscape is done!" - -"Beautifully indeed! But _she_ does every thing well." - -Marianne could not bear this. She was already greatly displeased with -Mrs. Ferrars; and such ill-timed praise of another, at Elinor's -expense, though she had not any notion of what was principally meant -by it, provoked her immediately to say with warmth-- - -"This is admiration of a very particular kind! what is Miss Morton to -us? who knows, or who cares, for her?--it is Elinor of whom _we_ think -and speak." - -And so saying, she took the screens out of her sister-in-law's hands, -to admire them herself as they ought to be admired. - -[Illustration: _Mrs. Ferrars._] - -Mrs. Ferrars looked exceedingly angry, and drawing herself up more -stiffly than ever, pronounced in retort this bitter philippic, "Miss -Morton is Lord Morton's daughter." - -Fanny looked very angry too, and her husband was all in a fright at -his sister's audacity. Elinor was much more hurt by Marianne's warmth -than she had been by what produced it; but Colonel Brandon's eyes, as -they were fixed on Marianne, declared that he noticed only what was -amiable in it, the affectionate heart which could not bear to see a -sister slighted in the smallest point. - -Marianne's feelings did not stop here. The cold insolence of Mrs. -Ferrars's general behaviour to her sister, seemed, to her, to foretell -such difficulties and distresses to Elinor, as her own wounded heart -taught her to think of with horror; and urged by a strong impulse of -affectionate sensibility, she moved after a moment, to her sister's -chair, and putting one arm round her neck, and one cheek close to -hers, said in a low, but eager, voice-- - -"Dear, dear Elinor, don't mind them. Don't let them make _you_ -unhappy." - -She could say no more; her spirits were quite overcome, and hiding her -face on Elinor's shoulder, she burst into tears. Every body's -attention was called, and almost every body was concerned. Colonel -Brandon rose up and went to them without knowing what he did. Mrs. -Jennings, with a very intelligent "Ah! poor dear," immediately gave -her her salts; and Sir John felt so desperately enraged against the -author of this nervous distress, that he instantly changed his seat to -one close by Lucy Steele, and gave her, in a whisper, a brief account -of the whole shocking affair. - -In a few minutes, however, Marianne was recovered enough to put an end -to the bustle, and sit down among the rest; though her spirits -retained the impression of what had passed, the whole evening. - -"Poor Marianne!" said her brother to Colonel Brandon, in a low voice, -as soon as he could secure his attention: "She has not such good -health as her sister,--she is very nervous,--she has not Elinor's -constitution;--and one must allow that there is something very trying -to a young woman who _has been_ a beauty in the loss of her personal -attractions. You would not think it perhaps, but Marianne _was_ -remarkably handsome a few months ago; quite as handsome as Elinor. Now -you see it is all gone." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - - -Elinor's curiosity to see Mrs. Ferrars was satisfied. She had found in -her every thing that could tend to make a farther connection between -the families undesirable. She had seen enough of her pride, her -meanness, and her determined prejudice against herself, to comprehend -all the difficulties that must have perplexed the engagement, and -retarded the marriage, of Edward and herself, had he been otherwise -free;--and she had seen almost enough to be thankful for her _own_ -sake, that one greater obstacle preserved her from suffering under any -other of Mrs. Ferrars's creation, preserved her from all dependence -upon her caprice, or any solicitude for her good opinion. Or at least, -if she did not bring herself quite to rejoice in Edward's being -fettered to Lucy, she determined, that had Lucy been more amiable, she -_ought_ to have rejoiced. - -She wondered that Lucy's spirits could be so very much elevated by the -civility of Mrs. Ferrars;--that her interest and her vanity should so -very much blind her as to make the attention which seemed only paid -her because she was _not Elinor_ appear a compliment to herself--or to -allow her to derive encouragement from a preference only given her, -because her real situation was unknown. But that it was so, had not -only been declared by Lucy's eyes at the time, but was declared over -again the next morning more openly, for at her particular desire, Lady -Middleton set her down in Berkeley Street on the chance of seeing -Elinor alone, to tell her how happy she was. - -The chance proved a lucky one, for a message from Mrs. Palmer soon -after she arrived, carried Mrs. Jennings away. - -"My dear friend," cried Lucy, as soon as they were by themselves, "I -come to talk to you of my happiness. Could anything be so flattering -as Mrs. Ferrars's way of treating me yesterday? So exceeding affable -as she was! You know how I dreaded the thoughts of seeing her; but the -very moment I was introduced, there was such an affability in her -behaviour as really should seem to say, she had quite took a fancy to -me. Now was not it so? You saw it all; and was not you quite struck -with it?" - -"She was certainly very civil to you." - -"Civil!--Did you see nothing but only civility?--I saw a vast deal -more. Such kindness as fell to the share of nobody but me!--No pride, -no hauteur, and your sister just the same--all sweetness and -affability!" - -Elinor wished to talk of something else, but Lucy still pressed her to -own that she had reason for her happiness; and Elinor was obliged to -go on. - -"Undoubtedly, if they had known your engagement," said she, "nothing -could be more flattering than their treatment of you;--but as that was -not the case--" - -"I guessed you would say so," replied Lucy quickly--"but there was no -reason in the world why Mrs. Ferrars should seem to like me, if she -did not, and her liking me is every thing. You shan't talk me out of -my satisfaction. I am sure it will all end well, and there will be no -difficulties at all, to what I used to think. Mrs. Ferrars is a -charming woman, and so is your sister. They are both delightful women, -indeed!--I wonder I should never hear you say how agreeable Mrs. -Dashwood was!" - -To this Elinor had no answer to make, and did not attempt any. - -"Are you ill, Miss Dashwood?--you seem low--you don't speak;--sure you -an't well." - -"I never was in better health." - -"I am glad of it with all my heart; but really you did not look it. I -should be sorry to have _you_ ill; you, that have been the greatest -comfort to me in the world!--Heaven knows what I should have done -without your friendship."-- - -Elinor tried to make a civil answer, though doubting her own success. -But it seemed to satisfy Lucy, for she directly replied-- - -"Indeed I am perfectly convinced of your regard for me, and next to -Edward's love, it is the greatest comfort I have. Poor Edward!--But -now there is one good thing, we shall be able to meet, and meet pretty -often, for Lady Middleton's delighted with Mrs. Dashwood, so we shall -be a good deal in Harley Street, I dare say, and Edward spends half -his time with his sister--besides, Lady Middleton and Mrs. Ferrars -will visit now;--and Mrs. Ferrars and your sister were both so good -to say more than once, they should always be glad to see me. They are -such charming women!--I am sure if ever you tell your sister what I -think of her, you cannot speak too high." - -But Elinor would not give her any encouragement to hope that she -_should_ tell her sister. Lucy continued. - -"I am sure I should have seen it in a moment, if Mrs. Ferrars had took -a dislike to me. If she had only made me a formal courtesy, for -instance, without saying a word, and never after had took any notice -of me, and never looked at me in a pleasant way--you know what I -mean--if I had been treated in that forbidding sort of way, I should -have gave it all up in despair. I could not have stood it. For where -she _does_ dislike, I know it is most violent." - -Elinor was prevented from making any reply to this civil triumph, by -the door's being thrown open, the servant's announcing Mr. Ferrars, -and Edward's immediately walking in. - -It was a very awkward moment; and the countenance of each showed that -it was so. They all looked exceedingly foolish; and Edward seemed to -have as great an inclination to walk out of the room again, as to -advance farther into it. The very circumstance, in its unpleasantest -form, which they would each have been most anxious to avoid, had -fallen on them. They were not only all three together, but were -together without the relief of any other person. The ladies recovered -themselves first. It was not Lucy's business to put herself forward, -and the appearance of secrecy must still be kept up. She could -therefore only _look_ her tenderness, and after slightly addressing -him, said no more. - -But Elinor had more to do; and so anxious was she, for his sake and -her own, to do it well, that she forced herself, after a moment's -recollection, to welcome him, with a look and manner that were almost -easy, and almost open; and another struggle, another effort still -improved them. She would not allow the presence of Lucy, nor the -consciousness of some injustice towards herself, to deter her from -saying that she was happy to see him, and that she had very much -regretted being from home, when he called before in Berkeley Street. -She would not be frightened from paying him those attentions which, as -a friend and almost a relation, were his due, by the observant eyes -of Lucy, though she soon perceived them to be narrowly watching her. - -Her manners gave some re-assurance to Edward, and he had courage -enough to sit down; but his embarrassment still exceeded that of the -ladies in a proportion, which the case rendered reasonable, though his -sex might make it rare; for his heart had not the indifference of -Lucy's, nor could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor's. - -Lucy, with a demure and settled air, seemed determined to make no -contribution to the comfort of the others, and would not say a word; -and almost every thing that _was_ said, proceeded from Elinor, who was -obliged to volunteer all the information about her mother's health, -their coming to town, &c. which Edward ought to have inquired about, -but never did. - -Her exertions did not stop here; for she soon afterwards felt herself -so heroically disposed as to determine, under pretence of fetching -Marianne, to leave the others by themselves; and she really did it, -and _that_ in the handsomest manner, for she loitered away several -minutes on the landing-place, with the most high-minded fortitude, -before she went to her sister. When that was once done, however, it -was time for the raptures of Edward to cease; for Marianne's joy -hurried her into the drawing-room immediately. Her pleasure in seeing -him was like every other of her feelings, strong in itself, and -strongly spoken. She met him with a hand that would be taken, and a -voice that expressed the affection of a sister. - -"Dear Edward!" she cried, "this is a moment of great happiness!--This -would almost make amends for every thing!" - -Edward tried to return her kindness as it deserved, but before such -witnesses he dared not say half what he really felt. Again they all -sat down, and for a moment or two all were silent; while Marianne was -looking with the most speaking tenderness, sometimes at Edward and -sometimes at Elinor, regretting only that their delight in each other -should be checked by Lucy's unwelcome presence. Edward was the first -to speak, and it was to notice Marianne's altered looks, and express -his fear of her not finding London agree with her. - -"Oh, don't think of me!" she replied with spirited earnestness, though -her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke, "don't think of _my_ -health. Elinor is well, you see. That must be enough for us both." - -This remark was not calculated to make Edward or Elinor more easy, nor -to conciliate the good will of Lucy, who looked up at Marianne with no -very benignant expression. - -"Do you like London?" said Edward, willing to say any thing that might -introduce another subject. - -"Not at all. I expected much pleasure in it, but I have found none. -The sight of you, Edward, is the only comfort it has afforded; and -thank Heaven! you are what you always were!" - -She paused--no one spoke. - -"I think, Elinor," she presently added, "we must employ Edward to take -care of us in our return to Barton. In a week or two, I suppose, we -shall be going; and, I trust, Edward will not be very unwilling to -accept the charge." - -Poor Edward muttered something, but what it was, nobody knew, not even -himself. But Marianne, who saw his agitation, and could easily trace -it to whatever cause best pleased herself, was perfectly satisfied, -and soon talked of something else. - -"We spent such a day, Edward, in Harley Street yesterday! So dull, so -wretchedly dull!--But I have much to say to you on that head, which -cannot be said now." - -And with this admirable discretion did she defer the assurance of her -finding their mutual relatives more disagreeable than ever, and of her -being particularly disgusted with his mother, till they were more in -private. - -"But why were you not there, Edward?--Why did you not come?" - -"I was engaged elsewhere." - -"Engaged! But what was that, when such friends were to be met?" - -"Perhaps, Miss Marianne," cried Lucy, eager to take some revenge on -her, "you think young men never stand upon engagements, if they have -no mind to keep them, little as well as great." - -Elinor was very angry, but Marianne seemed entirely insensible of the -sting; for she calmly replied-- - -"Not so, indeed; for, seriously speaking, I am very sure that -conscience only kept Edward from Harley Street. And I really believe -he _has_ the most delicate conscience in the world; the most -scrupulous in performing every engagement, however minute, and however -it may make against his interest or pleasure. He is the most fearful -of giving pain, of wounding expectation, and the most incapable of -being selfish, of any body I ever saw. Edward, it is so, and I will -say it. What! are you never to hear yourself praised!--Then you must -be no friend of mine; for those who will accept of my love and esteem, -must submit to my open commendation." - -The nature of her commendation, in the present case, however, happened -to be particularly ill-suited to the feelings of two thirds of her -auditors, and was so very unexhilarating to Edward, that he very soon -got up to go away. - -"Going so soon!" said Marianne; "my dear Edward, this must not be." - -And drawing him a little aside, she whispered her persuasion that Lucy -could not stay much longer. But even this encouragement failed, for he -would go; and Lucy, who would have outstayed him, had his visit lasted -two hours, soon afterwards went away. - -"What can bring her here so often?" said Marianne, on her leaving -them. "Could not she see that we wanted her gone!--how teasing to -Edward!" - -"Why so?--we were all his friends, and Lucy has been the longest known -to him of any. It is but natural that he should like to see her as -well as ourselves." - -Marianne looked at her steadily, and said, "You know, Elinor, that -this is a kind of talking which I cannot bear. If you only hope to -have your assertion contradicted, as I must suppose to be the case, -you ought to recollect that I am the last person in the world to do -it. I cannot descend to be tricked out of assurances, that are not -really wanted." - -She then left the room; and Elinor dared not follow her to say more, -for bound as she was by her promise of secrecy to Lucy, she could give -no information that would convince Marianne; and painful as the -consequences of her still continuing in an error might be, she was -obliged to submit to it. All that she could hope, was that Edward -would not often expose her or himself to the distress of hearing -Marianne's mistaken warmth, nor to the repetition of any other part of -the pain that had attended their recent meeting--and this she had -every reason to expect. - -[Illustration: _Drawing him a little aside._] - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - - -Within a few days after this meeting, the newspapers announced to the -world, that the lady of Thomas Palmer, Esq. was safely delivered of a -son and heir; a very interesting and satisfactory paragraph, at least -to all those intimate connections who knew it before. - -This event, highly important to Mrs. Jennings's happiness, produced a -temporary alteration in the disposal of her time, and influenced, in a -like degree, the engagements of her young friends; for as she wished -to be as much as possible with Charlotte, she went thither every -morning as soon as she was dressed, and did not return till late in -the evening; and the Miss Dashwoods, at the particular request of the -Middletons, spent the whole of every day, in Conduit Street. For their -own comfort they would much rather have remained, at least all the -morning, in Mrs. Jennings's house; but it was not a thing to be urged -against the wishes of everybody. Their hours were therefore made over -to Lady Middleton and the two Miss Steeles, by whom their company, in -fact was as little valued, as it was professedly sought. - -They had too much sense to be desirable companions to the former; and -by the latter they were considered with a jealous eye, as intruding on -_their_ ground, and sharing the kindness which they wanted to -monopolize. Though nothing could be more polite than Lady Middleton's -behaviour to Elinor and Marianne, she did not really like them at all. -Because they neither flattered herself nor her children, she could not -believe them good-natured; and because they were fond of reading, she -fancied them satirical: perhaps without exactly knowing what it was to -be satirical; but _that_ did not signify. It was censure in common -use, and easily given. - -Their presence was a restraint both on her and on Lucy. It checked the -idleness of one, and the business of the other. Lady Middleton was -ashamed of doing nothing before them, and the flattery which Lucy was -proud to think of and administer at other times, she feared they would -despise her for offering. Miss Steele was the least discomposed of the -three, by their presence; and it was in their power to reconcile her -to it entirely. Would either of them only have given her a full and -minute account of the whole affair between Marianne and Mr. -Willoughby, she would have thought herself amply rewarded for the -sacrifice of the best place by the fire after dinner, which their -arrival occasioned. But this conciliation was not granted; for though -she often threw out expressions of pity for her sister to Elinor, and -more than once dropt a reflection on the inconstancy of beaux before -Marianne, no effect was produced, but a look of indifference from the -former, or of disgust in the latter. An effort even yet lighter might -have made her their friend. Would they only have laughed at her about -the Doctor! But so little were they, anymore than the others, inclined -to oblige her, that if Sir John dined from home, she might spend a -whole day without hearing any other raillery on the subject, than what -she was kind enough to bestow on herself. - -All these jealousies and discontents, however, were so totally -unsuspected by Mrs. Jennings, that she thought it a delightful thing -for the girls to be together; and generally congratulated her young -friends every night, on having escaped the company of a stupid old -woman so long. She joined them sometimes at Sir John's, sometimes at -her own house; but wherever it was, she always came in excellent -spirits, full of delight and importance, attributing Charlotte's well -doing to her own care, and ready to give so exact, so minute a detail -of her situation, as only Miss Steele had curiosity enough to desire. -One thing _did_ disturb her; and of that she made her daily complaint. -Mr. Palmer maintained the common, but unfatherly opinion among his -sex, of all infants being alike; and though she could plainly -perceive, at different times, the most striking resemblance between -this baby and every one of his relations on both sides, there was no -convincing his father of it; no persuading him to believe that it was -not exactly like every other baby of the same age; nor could he even -be brought to acknowledge the simple proposition of its being the -finest child in the world. - -I come now to the relation of a misfortune, which about this time -befell Mrs. John Dashwood. It so happened that while her two sisters -with Mrs. Jennings were first calling on her in Harley Street, another -of her acquaintance had dropt in--a circumstance in itself not -apparently likely to produce evil to her. But while the imaginations -of other people will carry them away to form wrong judgments of our -conduct, and to decide on it by slight appearances, one's happiness -must in some measure be always at the mercy of chance. In the present -instance, this last-arrived lady allowed her fancy to so far outrun -truth and probability, that on merely hearing the name of the Miss -Dashwoods, and understanding them to be Mr. Dashwood's sisters, she -immediately concluded them to be staying in Harley Street; and this -misconstruction produced within a day or two afterwards, cards of -invitation for them as well as for their brother and sister, to a -small musical party at her house. The consequence of which was, that -Mrs. John Dashwood was obliged to submit not only to the exceedingly -great inconvenience of sending her carriage for the Miss Dashwoods, -but, what was still worse, must be subject to all the unpleasantness -of appearing to treat them with attention: and who could tell that -they might not expect to go out with her a second time? The power of -disappointing them, it was true, must always be her's. But that was -not enough; for when people are determined on a mode of conduct which -they know to be wrong, they feel injured by the expectation of any -thing better from them. - -Marianne had now been brought by degrees, so much into the habit of -going out every day, that it was become a matter of indifference to -her, whether she went or not: and she prepared quietly and -mechanically for every evening's engagement, though without expecting -the smallest amusement from any, and very often without knowing, till -the last moment, where it was to take her. - -To her dress and appearance she was grown so perfectly indifferent, as -not to bestow half the consideration on it, during the whole of her -toilet, which it received from Miss Steele in the first five minutes -of their being together, when it was finished. Nothing escaped _her_ -minute observation and general curiosity; she saw every thing, and -asked every thing; was never easy till she knew the price of every -part of Marianne's dress; could have guessed the number of her gowns -altogether with better judgment than Marianne herself, and was not -without hopes of finding out before they parted, how much her washing -cost per week, and how much she had every year to spend upon herself. -The impertinence of these kind of scrutinies, moreover, was generally -concluded with a compliment, which though meant as its douceur, was -considered by Marianne as the greatest impertinence of all; for after -undergoing an examination into the value and make of her gown, the -colour of her shoes, and the arrangement of her hair, she was almost -sure of being told that upon "her word she looked vastly smart, and -she dared to say she would make a great many conquests." - -With such encouragement as this, was she dismissed on the present -occasion, to her brother's carriage; which they were ready to enter -five minutes after it stopped at the door, a punctuality not very -agreeable to their sister-in-law, who had preceded them to the house -of her acquaintance, and was there hoping for some delay on their part -that might inconvenience either herself or her coachman. - -The events of this evening were not very remarkable. The party, like -other musical parties, comprehended a great many people who had real -taste for the performance, and a great many more who had none at all; -and the performers themselves were, as usual, in their own estimation, -and that of their immediate friends, the first private performers in -England. - -As Elinor was neither musical, nor affecting to be so, she made no -scruple of turning her eyes from the grand pianoforte, whenever it -suited her, and unrestrained even by the presence of a harp, and -violoncello, would fix them at pleasure on any other object in the -room. In one of these excursive glances she perceived among a group of -young men, the very he, who had given them a lecture on -toothpick-cases at Gray's. She perceived him soon afterwards looking -at herself, and speaking familiarly to her brother; and had just -determined to find out his name from the latter, when they both came -towards her, and Mr. Dashwood introduced him to her as Mr. Robert -Ferrars. - -He addressed her with easy civility, and twisted his head into a bow -which assured her as plainly as words could have done, that he was -exactly the coxcomb she had heard him described to be by Lucy. Happy -had it been for her, if her regard for Edward had depended less on his -own merit, than on the merit of his nearest relations! For then his -brother's bow must have given the finishing stroke to what the -ill-humour of his mother and sister would have begun. But while she -wondered at the difference of the two young men, she did not find that -the emptiness of conceit of the one, put her out of all charity with -the modesty and worth of the other. Why they _were_ different, Robert -exclaimed to her himself in the course of a quarter of an hour's -conversation; for, talking of his brother, and lamenting the extreme -_gaucherie_ which he really believed kept him from mixing in proper -society, he candidly and generously attributed it much less to any -natural deficiency, than to the misfortune of a private education; -while he himself, though probably without any particular, any material -superiority by nature, merely from the advantage of a public school, -was as well fitted to mix in the world as any other man. - -"Upon my soul," he added, "I believe it is nothing more; and so I -often tell my mother, when she is grieving about it. 'My dear Madam,' -I always say to her, 'you must make yourself easy. The evil is now -irremediable, and it has been entirely your own doing. Why would you -be persuaded by my uncle, Sir Robert, against your own judgment, to -place Edward under private tuition, at the most critical time of his -life? If you had only sent him to Westminster as well as myself, -instead of sending him to Mr. Pratt's, all this would have been -prevented.' This is the way in which I always consider the matter, and -my mother is perfectly convinced of her error." - -Elinor would not oppose his opinion, because, whatever might be her -general estimation of the advantage of a public school, she could not -think of Edward's abode in Mr. Pratt's family, with any satisfaction. - -"You reside in Devonshire, I think,"--was his next observation, "in a -cottage near Dawlish." - -Elinor set him right as to its situation; and it seemed rather -surprising to him that anybody could live in Devonshire, without -living near Dawlish. He bestowed his hearty approbation however on -their species of house. - -"For my own part," said he, "I am excessively fond of a cottage; there -is always so much comfort, so much elegance about them. And I protest, -if I had any money to spare, I should buy a little land and build one -myself, within a short distance of London, where I might drive myself -down at any time, and collect a few friends about me, and be happy. I -advise every body who is going to build, to build a cottage. My friend -Lord Courtland came to me the other day on purpose to ask my advice, -and laid before me three different plans of Bonomi's. I was to decide -on the best of them. 'My dear Courtland,' said I, immediately throwing -them all into the fire, 'do not adopt either of them, but by all means -build a cottage.' And that I fancy, will be the end of it. - -"Some people imagine that there can be no accommodations, no space in -a cottage; but this is all a mistake. I was last month at my friend -Elliott's, near Dartford. Lady Elliott wished to give a dance. 'But -how can it be done?' said she; 'my dear Ferrars, do tell me how it is -to be managed. There is not a room in this cottage that will hold ten -couple, and where can the supper be?' I immediately saw that there -could be no difficulty in it, so I said, 'My dear Lady Elliott, do not -be uneasy. The dining parlour will admit eighteen couple with ease; -card-tables may be placed in the drawing-room; the library may be open -for tea and other refreshments; and let the supper be set out in the -saloon.' Lady Elliott was delighted with the thought. We measured the -dining-room, and found it would hold exactly eighteen couple, and the -affair was arranged precisely after my plan. So that, in fact, you -see, if people do but know how to set about it, every comfort may be -as well enjoyed in a cottage as in the most spacious dwelling." - -Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the -compliment of rational opposition. - -As John Dashwood had no more pleasure in music than his eldest sister, -his mind was equally at liberty to fix on any thing else; and a -thought struck him during the evening, which he communicated to his -wife, for her approbation, when they got home. The consideration of -Mrs. Dennison's mistake, in supposing his sisters their guests, had -suggested the propriety of their being really invited to become such, -while Mrs. Jennings's engagements kept her from home. The expense -would be nothing, the inconvenience not more; and it was altogether an -attention which the delicacy of his conscience pointed out to be -requisite to its complete enfranchisement from his promise to his -father. Fanny was startled at the proposal. - -"I do not see how it can be done," said she, "without affronting Lady -Middleton, for they spend every day with her; otherwise I should be -exceedingly glad to do it. You know I am always ready to pay them any -attention in my power, as my taking them out this evening shows. But -they are Lady Middleton's visitors. How can I ask them away from her?" - -Her husband, but with great humility, did not see the force of her -objection. "They had already spent a week in this manner in Conduit -Street, and Lady Middleton could not be displeased at their giving the -same number of days to such near relations." - -Fanny paused a moment, and then, with fresh vigor, said-- - -"My love I would ask them with all my heart, if it was in my power. -But I had just settled within myself to ask the Miss Steeles to spend -a few days with us. They are very well behaved, good kind of girls; -and I think the attention is due to them, as their uncle did so very -well by Edward. We can ask your sisters some other year, you know; but -the Miss Steeles may not be in town any more. I am sure you will like -them; indeed, you _do_ like them, you know, very much already, and so -does my mother; and they are such favourites with Harry!" - -Mr. Dashwood was convinced. He saw the necessity of inviting the Miss -Steeles immediately, and his conscience was pacified by the resolution -of inviting his sisters another year; at the same time, however, slyly -suspecting that another year would make the invitation needless, by -bringing Elinor to town as Colonel Brandon's wife, and Marianne as -_their_ visitor. - -Fanny, rejoicing in her escape, and proud of the ready wit that had -procured it, wrote the next morning to Lucy, to request her company -and her sister's, for some days, in Harley Street, as soon as Lady -Middleton could spare them. This was enough to make Lucy really and -reasonably happy. Mrs. Dashwood seemed actually working for her, -herself; cherishing all her hopes, and promoting all her views! Such -an opportunity of being with Edward and his family was, above all -things, the most material to her interest, and such an invitation the -most gratifying to her feelings! It was an advantage that could not -be too gratefully acknowledged, nor too speedily made use of; and the -visit to Lady Middleton, which had not before had any precise limits, -was instantly discovered to have been always meant to end in two days' -time. - -When the note was shown to Elinor, as it was within ten minutes after -its arrival, it gave her, for the first time, some share in the -expectations of Lucy; for such a mark of uncommon kindness, vouchsafed -on so short an acquaintance, seemed to declare that the good-will -towards her arose from something more than merely malice against -herself; and might be brought, by time and address, to do every thing -that Lucy wished. Her flattery had already subdued the pride of Lady -Middleton, and made an entry into the close heart of Mrs. John -Dashwood; and these were effects that laid open the probability of -greater. - -The Miss Steeles removed to Harley Street, and all that reached Elinor -of their influence there, strengthened her expectation of the event. -Sir John, who called on them more than once, brought home such -accounts of the favour they were in, as must be universally striking. -Mrs. Dashwood had never been so much pleased with any young women in -her life, as she was with them; had given each of them a needle book -made by some emigrant; called Lucy by her Christian name; and did not -know whether she should ever be able to part with them. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - - -Mrs. Palmer was so well at the end of a fortnight, that her mother -felt it no longer necessary to give up the whole of her time to her; -and, contenting herself with visiting her once or twice a day, -returned from that period to her own home, and her own habits, in -which she found the Miss Dashwoods very ready to resume their former -share. - -About the third or fourth morning after their being thus resettled in -Berkeley Street, Mrs. Jennings, on returning from her ordinary visit -to Mrs. Palmer, entered the drawing-room, where Elinor was sitting by -herself, with an air of such hurrying importance as prepared her to -hear something wonderful; and giving her time only to form that idea, -began directly to justify it, by saying-- - -"Lord! my dear Miss Dashwood! have you heard the news?" - -"No, ma'am. What is it?" - -"Something so strange! But you shall hear it all. When I got to Mr. -Palmer's, I found Charlotte quite in a fuss about the child. She was -sure it was very ill--it cried, and fretted, and was all over pimples. -So I looked at it directly, and, 'Lord! my dear,' says I, 'it is -nothing in the world, but the red gum--' and nurse said just the same. -But Charlotte, she would not be satisfied, so Mr. Donavan was sent -for; and luckily he happened to just come in from Harley Street, so he -stepped over directly, and as soon as ever he saw the child, he said -just as we did, that it was nothing in the world but the red gum, and -then Charlotte was easy. And so, just as he was going away again, it -came into my head, I am sure I do not know how I happened to think of -it, but it came into my head to ask him if there was any news. So upon -that, he smirked, and simpered, and looked grave, and seemed to know -something or other, and at last he said in a whisper, 'For fear any -unpleasant report should reach the young ladies under your care as to -their sister's indisposition, I think it advisable to say, that I -believe there is no great reason for alarm; I hope Mrs. Dashwood will -do very well.'" - -"What! is Fanny ill?" - -[Illustration: _In a whisper._] - -"That is exactly what I said, my dear. 'Lord!' says I, 'is Mrs. -Dashwood ill?' So then it all came out; and the long and the short of -the matter, by all I can learn, seems to be this. Mr. Edward Ferrars, -the very young man I used to joke with you about (but however, as it -turns out, I am monstrous glad there was never any thing in it), Mr. -Edward Ferrars, it seems, has been engaged above this twelvemonth to -my cousin Lucy! There's for you, my dear! And not a creature knowing a -syllable of the matter, except Nancy! Could you have believed such a -thing possible? There is no great wonder in their liking one another; -but that matters should be brought so forward between them, and nobody -suspect it! _That_ is strange! I never happened to see them together, -or I am sure I should have found it out directly. Well, and so this -was kept a great secret, for fear of Mrs. Ferrars, and neither she nor -your brother or sister suspected a word of the matter: till this very -morning, poor Nancy, who, you know, is a well-meaning creature, but no -conjurer, popt it all out. 'Lord!' thinks she to herself, 'they are -all so fond of Lucy, to be sure they will make no difficulty about -it;' and so, away she went to your sister, who was sitting all alone -at her carpet-work, little suspecting what was to come--for she had -just been saying to your brother, only five minutes before, that she -thought to make a match between Edward and some Lord's daughter or -other, I forget who. So you may think what a blow it was to all her -vanity and pride. She fell into violent hysterics immediately, with -such screams as reached your brother's ears, as he was sitting in his -own dressing-room down stairs, thinking about writing a letter to his -steward in the country. So up he flew directly, and a terrible scene -took place, for Lucy was come to them by that time, little dreaming -what was going on. Poor soul! I pity _her._ And I must say, I think -she was used very hardly; for your sister scolded like any fury, and -soon drove her into a fainting fit. Nancy, she fell upon her knees, -and cried bitterly; and your brother, he walked about the room, and -said he did not know what to do. Mrs. Dashwood declared they should -not stay a minute longer in the house, and your brother was forced to -go down upon _his_ knees too, to persuade her to let them stay till -they had packed up their clothes. _Then_ she fell into hysterics -again, and he was so frightened that he would send for Mr. Donavan, -and Mr. Donavan found the house in all this uproar. The carriage was -at the door ready to take my poor cousins away, and they were just -stepping in as he came off; poor Lucy in such a condition, he says, -she could hardly walk; and Nancy, she was almost as bad. I declare, I -have no patience with your sister; and I hope, with all my heart, it -will be a match in spite of her. Lord! what a taking poor Mr. Edward -will be in when he hears of it! To have his love used so scornfully! -for they say he is monstrous fond of her, as well he may. I should not -wonder, if he was to be in the greatest passion!--and Mr. Donavan -thinks just the same. He and I had a great deal of talk about it; and -the best of all is, that he is gone back again to Harley Street, that -he may be within call when Mrs. Ferrars is told of it, for she was -sent for as soon as ever my cousins left the house, for your sister -was sure _she_ would be in hysterics too; and so she may, for what I -care. I have no pity for either of them. I have no notion of people's -making such a to-do about money and greatness. There is no reason on -earth why Mr. Edward and Lucy should not marry; for I am sure Mrs. -Ferrars may afford to do very well by her son, and though Lucy has -next to nothing herself, she knows better than any body how to make -the most of every thing; I dare say, if Mrs. Ferrars would only allow -him five hundred a-year, she would make as good an appearance with it -as any body else would with eight. Lord! how snug they might live in -such another cottage as yours--or a little bigger--with two maids, and -two men; and I believe I could help them to a housemaid, for my Betty -has a sister out of place, that would fit them exactly." - -Here Mrs. Jennings ceased, and as Elinor had had time enough to -collect her thoughts, she was able to give such an answer, and make -such observations, as the subject might naturally be supposed to -produce. Happy to find that she was not suspected of any extraordinary -interest in it; that Mrs. Jennings (as she had of late often hoped -might be the case) had ceased to imagine her at all attached to -Edward; and happy above all the rest, in the absence of Marianne, she -felt very well able to speak of the affair without embarrassment, and -to give her judgment, as she believed, with impartiality on the -conduct of every one concerned in it. - -She could hardly determine what her own expectation of its event -really was; though she earnestly tried to drive away the notion of its -being possible to end otherwise at last, than in the marriage of -Edward and Lucy. What Mrs. Ferrars would say and do, though there -could not be a doubt of its nature, she was anxious to hear; and still -more anxious to know how Edward would conduct himself. For _him_ she -felt much compassion;--for Lucy very little--and it cost her some -pains to procure that little;--for the rest of the party none at all. - -As Mrs. Jennings could talk on no other subject, Elinor soon saw the -necessity of preparing Marianne for its discussion. No time was to be -lost in undeceiving her, in making her acquainted with the real truth, -and in endeavouring to bring her to hear it talked of by others, -without betraying that she felt any uneasiness for her sister, or any -resentment against Edward. - -Elinor's office was a painful one. She was going to remove what she -really believed to be her sister's chief consolation,--to give such -particulars of Edward as she feared would ruin him for ever in her -good opinion,-and to make Marianne, by a resemblance in their -situations, which to _her_ fancy would seem strong, feel all her own -disappointment over again. But unwelcome as such a task must be, it -was necessary to be done, and Elinor therefore hastened to perform it. - -She was very far from wishing to dwell on her own feelings, or to -represent herself as suffering much, any otherwise than as the -self-command she had practised since her first knowledge of Edward's -engagement, might suggest a hint of what was practicable to Marianne. -Her narration was clear and simple; and though it could not be given -without emotion, it was not accompanied by violent agitation, nor -impetuous grief. _That_ belonged rather to the hearer, for Marianne -listened with horror, and cried excessively. Elinor was to be the -comforter of others in her own distresses, no less than in theirs; and -all the comfort that could be given by assurances of her own composure -of mind, and a very earnest vindication of Edward from every charge -but of imprudence, was readily offered. - -But Marianne for some time would give credit to neither. Edward seemed -a second Willoughby; and acknowledging as Elinor did, that she _had_ -loved him most sincerely, could she feel less than herself! As for -Lucy Steele, she considered her so totally unamiable, so absolutely -incapable of attaching a sensible man, that she could not be persuaded -at first to believe, and afterwards to pardon, any former affection of -Edward for her. She would not even admit it to have been natural; and -Elinor left her to be convinced that it was so, by that which only -could convince her, a better knowledge of mankind. - -Her first communication had reached no farther than to state the fact -of the engagement, and the length of time it had existed. Marianne's -feelings had then broken in, and put an end to all regularity of -detail; and for some time all that could be done was to soothe her -distress, lessen her alarms, and combat her resentment. The first -question on her side, which led to farther particulars, was-- - -"How long has this been known to you, Elinor? has he written to you?" - -"I have known it these four months. When Lucy first came to Barton -Park last November, she told me in confidence of her engagement." - -At these words, Marianne's eyes expressed the astonishment which her -lips could not utter. After a pause of wonder, she exclaimed-- - -"Four months!--Have you known of this four months?" - -Elinor confirmed it. - -"What!--while attending me in all my misery, has this been on your -heart?--And I have reproached you for being happy!"-- - -"It was not fit that you should then know how much I was the reverse!" - -"Four months!" cried Marianne again. "So calm! so cheerful! how have -you been supported?" - -"By feeling that I was doing my duty. My promise to Lucy, obliged me -to be secret. I owed it to her, therefore, to avoid giving any hint of -the truth; and I owed it to my family and friends, not to create in -them a solicitude about me, which it could not be in my power to -satisfy." - -Marianne seemed much struck. - -"I have very often wished to undeceive yourself and my mother," added -Elinor; "and once or twice I have attempted it; but without betraying -my trust, I never could have convinced you." - -"Four months! and yet you loved him!" - -"Yes. But I did not love only him;--and while the comfort of others -was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt. -Now, I can think and speak of it with little emotion. I would not have -you suffer on my account; for I assure you I no longer suffer -materially myself. I have many things to support me. I am not -conscious of having provoked the disappointment by any imprudence of -my own, I have borne it as much as possible without spreading it -farther. I acquit Edward of essential misconduct. I wish him very -happy; and I am so sure of his always doing his duty, that though now -he may harbour some regret, in the end he must become so. Lucy does -not want sense, and that is the foundation on which every thing good -may be built. And after all, Marianne, after all that is bewitching in -the idea of a single and constant attachment, and all that can be said -of one's happiness depending entirely on any particular person, it is -not meant--it is not fit--it is not possible that it should be so. -Edward will marry Lucy; he will marry a woman superior in person and -understanding to half her sex; and time and habit will teach him to -forget that he ever thought another superior to _her._" - -"If such is your way of thinking," said Marianne, "if the loss of what -is most valued is so easily to be made up by something else, your -resolution, your self-command, are, perhaps, a little less to be -wondered at. They are brought more within my comprehension." - -"I understand you. You do not suppose that I have ever felt much. For -four months, Marianne, I have had all this hanging on my mind, without -being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature; knowing that it -would make you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained -to you, yet unable to prepare you for it in the least. It was told -me,--it was in a manner forced on me by the very person herself, whose -prior engagement ruined all my prospects; and told me, as I thought, -with triumph. This person's suspicions, therefore, I have had to -oppose, by endeavouring to appear indifferent where I have been most -deeply interested;--and it has not been only once;--I have had her -hopes and exultation to listen to again and again. I have known myself -to be divided from Edward for ever, without hearing one circumstance -that could make me less desire the connection. Nothing has proved him -unworthy; nor has anything declared him indifferent to me. I have had -to contend against the unkindness of his sister, and the insolence of -his mother; and have suffered the punishment of an attachment, without -enjoying its advantages. And all this has been going on at a time, -when, as you know too well, it has not been my only unhappiness. If -you can think me capable of ever feeling, surely you may suppose that -I have suffered _now._ The composure of mind with which I have brought -myself at present to consider the matter, the consolation that I have -been willing to admit, have been the effect of constant and painful -exertion; they did not spring up of themselves; they did not occur to -relieve my spirits at first. No, Marianne. _Then_, if I had not been -bound to silence, perhaps nothing could have kept me entirely--not -even what I owed to my dearest friends--from openly showing that I was -_very_ unhappy."-- - -Marianne was quite subdued. - -"Oh! Elinor," she cried, "you have made me hate myself for ever. How -barbarous have I been to you!--you, who have been my only comfort, who -have borne with me in all my misery, who have seemed to be only -suffering for me! Is this my gratitude? Is this the only return I can -make you? Because your merit cries out upon myself, I have been trying -to do it away." - -The tenderest caresses followed this confession. In such a frame of -mind as she was now in, Elinor had no difficulty in obtaining from her -whatever promise she required; and at her request, Marianne engaged -never to speak of the affair to any one with the least appearance of -bitterness;--to meet Lucy without betraying the smallest increase of -dislike to her;--and even to see Edward himself, if chance should -bring them together, without any diminution of her usual cordiality. -These were great concessions;--but where Marianne felt that she had -injured, no reparation could be too much for her to make. - -She performed her promise of being discreet, to admiration. She -attended to all that Mrs. Jennings had to say upon the subject, with -an unchanging complexion, dissented from her in nothing, and was heard -three times to say, "Yes, ma'am."--She listened to her praise of Lucy -with only moving from one chair to another, and when Mrs. Jennings -talked of Edward's affection, it cost her only a spasm in her throat. -Such advances towards heroism in her sister, made Elinor feel equal to -any thing herself. - -The next morning brought a farther trial of it, in a visit from their -brother, who came with a most serious aspect to talk over the dreadful -affair, and bring them news of his wife. - -"You have heard, I suppose," said he with great solemnity, as soon as -he was seated, "of the very shocking discovery that took place under -our roof yesterday." - -They all looked their assent; it seemed too awful a moment for speech. - -[Illustration: "_You have heard, I suppose._"] - -"Your sister," he continued, "has suffered dreadfully. Mrs. Ferrars -too--in short it has been a scene of such complicated distress--but -I will hope that the storm may be weathered without our being any of -us quite overcome. Poor Fanny! she was in hysterics all yesterday. But -I would not alarm you too much. Donavan says there is nothing -materially to be apprehended; her constitution is a good one, and her -resolution equal to any thing. She has borne it all, with the -fortitude of an angel! She says she never shall think well of anybody -again; and one cannot wonder at it, after being so deceived!--meeting -with such ingratitude, where so much kindness had been shown, so much -confidence had been placed! It was quite out of the benevolence of her -heart, that she had asked these young women to her house; merely -because she thought they deserved some attention, were harmless, -well-behaved girls, and would be pleasant companions; for otherwise we -both wished very much to have invited you and Marianne to be with us, -while your kind friend there, was attending her daughter. And now to -be so rewarded! 'I wish, with all my heart,' says poor Fanny in her -affectionate way, 'that we had asked your sisters instead of them.'" - -Here he stopped to be thanked; which being done, he went on. - -"What poor Mrs. Ferrars suffered, when first Fanny broke it to her, is -not to be described. While she with the truest affection had been -planning a most eligible connection for him, was it to be supposed -that he could be all the time secretly engaged to another -person!--such a suspicion could never have entered her head! If she -suspected _any_ prepossession elsewhere, it could not be in _that_ -quarter. '_There_ to be sure,' said she, 'I might have thought myself -safe.' She was quite in an agony. We consulted together, however, as -to what should be done, and at last she determined to send for Edward. -He came. But I am sorry to relate what ensued. All that Mrs. Ferrars -could say to make him put an end to the engagement, assisted too as -you may well suppose by my arguments, and Fanny's entreaties, was of -no avail. Duty, affection, every thing was disregarded. I never -thought Edward so stubborn, so unfeeling before. His mother explained -to him her liberal designs, in case of his marrying Miss Morton; told -him she would settle on him the Norfolk estate, which, clear of -land-tax, brings in a good thousand a-year; offered even, when matters -grew desperate, to make it twelve hundred; and in opposition to this, -if he still persisted in this low connection, represented to him the -certain penury that must attend the match. His own two thousand pounds -she protested should be his all; she would never see him again; and so -far would she be from affording him the smallest assistance, that if -he were to enter into any profession with a view of better support, -she would do all in her power to prevent him advancing in it." - -Here Marianne, in an ecstasy of indignation, clapped her hands -together, and cried, "Gracious God! can this be possible!" - -"Well may you wonder, Marianne," replied her brother, "at the -obstinacy which could resist such arguments as these. Your exclamation -is very natural." - -Marianne was going to retort, but she remembered her promises, and -forbore. - -"All this, however," he continued, "was urged in vain. Edward said -very little; but what he did say, was in the most determined manner. -Nothing should prevail on him to give up his engagement. He would -stand to it, cost him what it might." - -"Then," cried Mrs. Jennings with blunt sincerity, no longer able to be -silent, "he has acted like an honest man! I beg your pardon, Mr. -Dashwood, but if he had done otherwise, I should have thought him a -rascal. I have some little concern in the business, as well as -yourself, for Lucy Steele is my cousin, and I believe there is not a -better kind of girl in the world, nor one who more deserves a good -husband." - -John Dashwood was greatly astonished; but his nature was calm, not -open to provocation, and he never wished to offend anybody, especially -anybody of good fortune. He therefore replied, without any -resentment-- - -"I would by no means speak disrespectfully of any relation of yours, -madam. Miss Lucy Steele is, I dare say, a very deserving young woman, -but in the present case you know, the connection must be impossible. -And to have entered into a secret engagement with a young man under -her uncle's care, the son of a woman especially of such very large -fortune as Mrs. Ferrars, is perhaps, altogether a little -extraordinary. In short, I do not mean to reflect upon the behaviour -of any person whom you have a regard for, Mrs. Jennings. We all wish -her extremely happy; and Mrs. Ferrars's conduct throughout the whole, -has been such as every conscientious, good mother, in like -circumstances, would adopt. It has been dignified and liberal. Edward -has drawn his own lot, and I fear it will be a bad one." - -Marianne sighed out her similar apprehension; and Elinor's heart wrung -for the feelings of Edward, while braving his mother's threats, for a -woman who could not reward him. - -"Well, sir," said Mrs. Jennings, "and how did it end?" - -"I am sorry to say, ma'am, in a most unhappy rupture:--Edward is -dismissed for ever from his mother's notice. He left her house -yesterday, but where he is gone, or whether he is still in town, I do -not know; for _we_ of course can make no inquiry." - -"Poor young man!--and what is to become of him?" - -"What, indeed, ma'am! It is a melancholy consideration. Born to the -prospect of such affluence! I cannot conceive a situation more -deplorable. The interest of two thousand pounds--how can a man live on -it?--and when to that is added the recollection, that he might, but -for his own folly, within three months have been in the receipt of two -thousand, five hundred a-year (for Miss Morton has thirty thousand -pounds,) I cannot picture to myself a more wretched condition. We must -all feel for him; and the more so, because it is totally out of our -power to assist him." - -"Poor young man!" cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure he should be very -welcome to bed and board at my house; and so I would tell him if I -could see him. It is not fit that he should be living about at his own -charge now, at lodgings and taverns." - -Elinor's heart thanked her for such kindness towards Edward, though -she could not forbear smiling at the form of it. - -"If he would only have done as well by himself," said John Dashwood, -"as all his friends were disposed to do by him, he might now have been -in his proper situation, and would have wanted for nothing. But as it -is, it must be out of anybody's power to assist him. And there is one -thing more preparing against him, which must be worse than all--his -mother has determined, with a very natural kind of spirit, to settle -_that_ estate upon Robert immediately, which might have been Edward's, -on proper conditions. I left her this morning with her lawyer, -talking over the business." - -[Illustration: _Talking over the business._] - -"Well!" said Mrs. Jennings, "that is _her_ revenge. Everybody has a -way of their own. But I don't think mine would be, to make one son -independent, because another had plagued me." - -Marianne got up and walked about the room. - -"Can anything be more galling to the spirit of a man," continued John, -"than to see his younger brother in possession of an estate which -might have been his own? Poor Edward! I feel for him sincerely." - -A few minutes more spent in the same kind of effusion, concluded his -visit; and with repeated assurances to his sisters that he really -believed there was no material danger in Fanny's indisposition, and -that they need not therefore be very uneasy about it, he went away; -leaving the three ladies unanimous in their sentiments on the present -occasion, as far at least as it regarded Mrs. Ferrars's conduct, the -Dashwoods', and Edward's. - -Marianne's indignation burst forth as soon as he quitted the room; and -as her vehemence made reserve impossible in Elinor, and unnecessary in -Mrs. Jennings, they all joined in a very spirited critique upon the -party. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - - -Mrs. Jennings was very warm in her praise of Edward's conduct, but -only Elinor and Marianne understood its true merit. _They_ only knew -how little he had had to tempt him to be disobedient, and how small -was the consolation, beyond the consciousness of doing right, that -could remain to him in the loss of friends and fortune. Elinor gloried -in his integrity; and Marianne forgave all his offences in compassion -for his punishment. But though confidence between them was, by this -public discovery, restored to its proper state, it was not a subject -on which either of them were fond of dwelling when alone. Elinor -avoided it upon principle, as tending to fix still more upon her -thoughts, by the too warm, too positive assurances of Marianne, that -belief of Edward's continued affection for herself which she rather -wished to do away; and Marianne's courage soon failed her, in trying -to converse upon a topic which always left her more dissatisfied with -herself than ever, by the comparison it necessarily produced between -Elinor's conduct and her own. - -She felt all the force of that comparison; but not as her sister had -hoped, to urge her to exertion now; she felt it with all the pain of -continual self-reproach, regretted most bitterly that she had never -exerted herself before; but it brought only the torture of penitence, -without the hope of amendment. Her mind was so much weakened that she -still fancied present exertion impossible, and therefore it only -dispirited her more. - -Nothing new was heard by them, for a day or two afterwards, of affairs -in Harley Street, or Bartlett's Buildings. But though so much of the -matter was known to them already, that Mrs. Jennings might have had -enough to do in spreading that knowledge farther, without seeking -after more, she had resolved from the first to pay a visit of comfort -and inquiry to her cousins as soon as she could; and nothing but the -hindrance of more visitors than usual, had prevented her going to them -within that time. - -The third day succeeding their knowledge of the particulars, was so -fine, so beautiful a Sunday as to draw many to Kensington Gardens, -though it was only the second week in March. Mrs. Jennings and Elinor -were of the number; but Marianne, who knew that the Willoughbys were -again in town, and had a constant dread of meeting them, chose rather -to stay at home, than venture into so public a place. - -An intimate acquaintance of Mrs. Jennings joined them soon after they -entered the Gardens, and Elinor was not sorry that by her continuing -with them, and engaging all Mrs. Jennings's conversation, she was -herself left to quiet reflection. She saw nothing of the Willoughbys, -nothing of Edward, and for some time nothing of anybody who could by -any chance whether grave or gay, be interesting to her. But at last -she found herself with some surprise, accosted by Miss Steele, who, -though looking rather shy, expressed great satisfaction in meeting -them, and on receiving encouragement from the particular kindness of -Mrs. Jennings, left her own party for a short time, to join their's. -Mrs. Jennings immediately whispered to Elinor-- - -"Get it all out of her, my dear. She will tell you any thing if you -ask. You see I cannot leave Mrs. Clarke." - -It was lucky, however, for Mrs. Jennings's curiosity and Elinor's too, -that she would tell any thing _without_ being asked; for nothing would -otherwise have been learnt. - -"I am so glad to meet you;" said Miss Steele, taking her familiarly by -the arm--"for I wanted to see you of all things in the world." And -then lowering her voice, "I suppose Mrs. Jennings has heard all about -it. Is she angry?" - -"Not at all, I believe, with you." - -"That is a good thing. And Lady Middleton, is _she_ angry?" - -"I cannot suppose it possible that she should." - -"I am monstrous glad of it. Good gracious! I have had such a time of -it! I never saw Lucy in such a rage in my life. She vowed at first she -would never trim me up a new bonnet, nor do any thing else for me -again, so long as she lived; but now she is quite come to, and we are -as good friends as ever. Look, she made me this bow to my hat, and put -in the feather last night. There now, _you_ are going to laugh at me -too. But why should not I wear pink ribbons? I do not care if it _is_ -the Doctor's favourite colour. I am sure, for my part, I should never -have known he _did_ like it better than any other colour, if he had -not happened to say so. My cousins have been so plaguing me! I declare -sometimes I do not know which way to look before them." - -She had wandered away to a subject on which Elinor had nothing to say, -and therefore soon judged it expedient to find her way back again to -the first. - -"Well, but Miss Dashwood," speaking triumphantly, "people may say what -they choose about Mr. Ferrars's declaring he would not have Lucy, for -it is no such thing I can tell you; and it is quite a shame for such -ill-natured reports to be spread abroad. Whatever Lucy might think -about it herself, you know, it was no business of other people to set -it down for certain." - -"I never heard any thing of the kind hinted at before, I assure you," -said Elinor. - -[Illustration: "_She put in the feather last night._"] - -"Oh, did not you? But it _was_ said, I know, very well, and by more -than one; for Miss Godby told Miss Sparks, that nobody in their senses -could expect Mr. Ferrars to give up a woman like Miss Morton, with -thirty thousand pounds to her fortune, for Lucy Steele that had -nothing at all; and I had it from Miss Sparks myself. And besides -that, my cousin Richard said himself, that when it came to the point -he was afraid Mr. Ferrars would be off; and when Edward did not come -near us for three days, I could not tell what to think myself; and I -believe in my heart Lucy gave it up all for lost; for we came away -from your brother's Wednesday, and we saw nothing of him not all -Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and did not know what was become of -him. Once Lucy thought to write to him, but then her spirits rose -against that. However this morning he came just as we came home from -church; and then it all came out, how he had been sent for Wednesday -to Harley Street, and been talked to by his mother and all of them, -and how he had declared before them all that he loved nobody but Lucy, -and nobody but Lucy would he have. And how he had been so worried by -what passed, that as soon as he had went away from his mother's house, -he had got upon his horse, and rid into the country, some where or -other; and how he had stayed about at an inn all Thursday and Friday, -on purpose to get the better of it. And after thinking it all over and -over again, he said, it seemed to him as if, now he had no fortune, -and no nothing at all, it would be quite unkind to keep her on to the -engagement, because it must be for her loss, for he had nothing but -two thousand pounds, and no hope of any thing else; and if he was to -go into orders, as he had some thoughts, he could get nothing but a -curacy, and how was they to live upon that?--He could not bear to -think of her doing no better, and so he begged, if she had the least -mind for it, to put an end to the matter directly, and leave him shift -for himself. I heard him say all this as plain as could possibly be. -And it was entirely for _her_ sake, and upon _her_ account, that he -said a word about being off, and not upon his own. I will take my oath -he never dropt a syllable of being tired of her, or of wishing to -marry Miss Morton, or any thing like it. But, to be sure, Lucy would -not give ear to such kind of talking; so she told him directly (with a -great deal about sweet and love, you know, and all that--Oh, la! one -can't repeat such kind of things you know)--she told him directly, she -had not the least mind in the world to be off, for she could live with -him upon a trifle, and how little so ever he might have, she should be -very glad to have it all, you know, or something of the kind. So then -he was monstrous happy, and talked on some time about what they should -do, and they agreed he should take orders directly, and they must wait -to be married till he got a living. And just then I could not hear any -more, for my cousin called from below to tell me Mrs. Richardson was -come in her coach, and would take one of us to Kensington Gardens; so -I was forced to go into the room and interrupt them, to ask Lucy if -she would like to go, but she did not care to leave Edward; so I just -run up stairs and put on a pair of silk stockings and came off with -the Richardsons." - -"I do not understand what you mean by interrupting them," said Elinor; -"you were all in the same room together, were not you?" - -"No, indeed, not us. La! Miss Dashwood, do you think people make love -when any body else is by? Oh, for shame!--To be sure you must know -better than that. (Laughing affectedly.)--No, no; they were shut up in -the drawing-room together, and all I heard was only by listening at -the door." - -"How!" cried Elinor; "have you been repeating to me what you only -learnt yourself by listening at the door? I am sorry I did not know it -before; for I certainly would not have suffered you to give me -particulars of a conversation which you ought not to have known -yourself. How could you behave so unfairly by your sister?" - -"Oh, la! there is nothing in _that._ I only stood at the door, and -heard what I could. And I am sure Lucy would have done just the same -by me; for a year or two back, when Martha Sharpe and I had so many -secrets together, she never made any bones of hiding in a closet, or -behind a chimney-board, on purpose to hear what we said." - -Elinor tried to talk of something else; but Miss Steele could not be -kept beyond a couple of minutes, from what was uppermost in her mind. - -[Illustration: _Listening at the door._] - -"Edward talks of going to Oxford soon," said she; "but now he is -lodging at No. --, Pall Mall. What an ill-natured woman his mother is, -an't she? And your brother and sister were not very kind! However, I -shan't say anything against them to _you_; and to be sure they did -send us home in their own chariot, which was more than I looked for. -And for my part, I was all in a fright for fear your sister should ask -us for the huswifes she had gave us a day or two before; but, however, -nothing was said about them, and I took care to keep mine out of -sight. Edward have got some business at Oxford, he says; so he must go -there for a time; and after _that_, as soon as he can light upon a -Bishop, he will be ordained. I wonder what curacy he will get! Good -gracious! (giggling as she spoke) I'd lay my life I know what my -cousins will say, when they hear of it. They will tell me I should -write to the Doctor, to get Edward the curacy of his new living. I -know they will; but I am sure I would not do such a thing for all the -world. 'La!' I shall say directly, 'I wonder how you could think of -such a thing? I write to the Doctor, indeed!'" - -"Well," said Elinor, "it is a comfort to be prepared against the -worst. You have got your answer ready." - -Miss Steele was going to reply on the same subject, but the approach -of her own party made another more necessary. - -"Oh, la! here come the Richardsons. I had a vast deal more to say to -you, but I must not stay away from them not any longer. I assure you -they are very genteel people. He makes a monstrous deal of money, and -they keep their own coach. I have not time to speak to Mrs. Jennings -about it myself, but pray tell her I am quite happy to hear she is not -in anger against us, and Lady Middleton the same; and if anything -should happen to take you and your sister away, and Mrs. Jennings -should want company, I am sure we should be very glad to come and stay -with her for as long a time as she likes. I suppose Lady Middleton -won't ask us any more this bout. Good-bye; I am sorry Miss Marianne was -not here. Remember me kindly to her. La! if you have not got your -spotted muslin on!--I wonder you was not afraid of its being torn." - -Such was her parting concern; for after this, she had time only to pay -her farewell compliments to Mrs. Jennings, before her company was -claimed by Mrs. Richardson; and Elinor was left in possession of -knowledge which might feed her powers of reflection some time, though -she had learnt very little more than what had been already foreseen -and foreplanned in her own mind. Edward's marriage with Lucy was as -firmly determined on, and the time of its taking place remained as -absolutely uncertain, as she had concluded it would be;--every thing -depended, exactly after her expectation, on his getting that -preferment, of which, at present, there seemed not the smallest -chance. - -As soon as they returned to the carriage, Mrs. Jennings was eager for -information; but as Elinor wished to spread as little as possible -intelligence that had in the first place been so unfairly obtained, -she confined herself to the brief repetition of such simple -particulars, as she felt assured that Lucy, for the sake of her own -consequence, would choose to have known. The continuance of their -engagement, and the means that were able to be taken for promoting its -end, was all her communication; and this produced from Mrs. Jennings -the following natural remark:-- - -"Wait for his having a living!--ay, we all know how _that_ will -end:--they will wait a twelvemonth, and finding no good comes of it, -will set down upon a curacy of fifty pounds a-year, with the interest -of his two thousand pounds, and what little matter Mr. Steele and Mr. -Pratt can give her. Then they will have a child every year! and Lord -help 'em! how poor they will be!--I must see what I can give them -towards furnishing their house. Two maids and two men, indeed!--as I -talked of t'other day. No, no, they must get a stout girl of all -works. Betty's sister would never do for them _now._" - -The next morning brought Elinor a letter by the two-penny post from -Lucy herself. It was as follows: - -"Bartlett's Building, March. - - "I hope my dear Miss Dashwood will excuse the liberty I take - of writing to her; but I know your friendship for me will - make you pleased to hear such a good account of myself and - my dear Edward, after all the troubles we have went through - lately, therefore will make no more apologies, but proceed - to say that, thank God! though we have suffered dreadfully, - we are both quite well now, and as happy as we must always - be in one another's love. We have had great trials, and - great persecutions, but however, at the same time, - gratefully acknowledge many friends, yourself not the least - among them, whose great kindness I shall always thankfully - remember, as will Edward too, who I have told of it. I am - sure you will be glad to hear, as likewise dear Mrs. - Jennings, I spent two happy hours with him yesterday - afternoon, he would not hear of our parting, though - earnestly did I, as I thought my duty required, urge him to - it for prudence sake, and would have parted for ever on the - spot, would he consent to it; but he said it should never - be, he did not regard his mother's anger, while he could - have my affections; our prospects are not very bright, to be - sure, but we must wait, and hope for the best; he will be - ordained shortly; and should it ever be in your power to - recommend him to any body that has a living to bestow, am - very sure you will not forget us, and dear Mrs. Jennings - too, trust she will speak a good word for us to Sir John, or - Mr. Palmer, or any friend that may be able to assist us. - Poor Anne was much to blame for what she did, but she did it - for the best, so I say nothing; hope Mrs. Jennings won't - think it too much trouble to give us a call, should she come - this way any morning, 'twould be a great kindness, and my - cousins would be proud to know her. My paper reminds me to - conclude; and begging to be most gratefully and respectfully - remembered to her, and to Sir John, and Lady Middleton, and - the dear children, when you chance to see them, and love to - Miss Marianne, - -"I am, etc., etc." - -As soon as Elinor had finished it, she performed what she concluded to -be its writer's real design, by placing it in the hands of Mrs. -Jennings, who read it aloud with many comments of satisfaction and -praise. - -"Very well indeed!--how prettily she writes!--aye, that was quite -proper to let him be off if he would. That was just like Lucy. Poor -soul! I wish I _could_ get him a living, with all my heart. She calls -me dear Mrs. Jennings, you see. She is a good-hearted girl as ever -lived. Very well upon my word. That sentence is very prettily turned. -Yes, yes, I will go and see her, sure enough. How attentive she is, to -think of every body!--Thank you, my dear, for showing it me. It is as -pretty a letter as ever I saw, and does Lucy's head and heart great -credit." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - - -The Miss Dashwoods had now been rather more than two months in town, -and Marianne's impatience to be gone increased every day. She sighed -for the air, the liberty, the quiet of the country; and fancied that -if any place could give her ease, Barton must do it. Elinor was hardly -less anxious than herself for their removal, and only so much less -bent on its being effected immediately, as that she was conscious of -the difficulties of so long a journey, which Marianne could not be -brought to acknowledge. She began, however, seriously to turn her -thoughts towards its accomplishment, and had already mentioned their -wishes to their kind hostess, who resisted them with all the eloquence -of her good-will, when a plan was suggested, which, though detaining -them from home yet a few weeks longer, appeared to Elinor altogether -much more eligible than any other. The Palmers were to remove to -Cleveland about the end of March, for the Easter holidays; and Mrs. -Jennings, with both her friends, received a very warm invitation from -Charlotte to go with them. This would not, in itself, have been -sufficient for the delicacy of Miss Dashwood;--but it was enforced -with so much real politeness by Mr. Palmer himself, as, joined to the -very great amendment of his manners towards them since her sister had -been known to be unhappy, induced her to accept it with pleasure. - -When she told Marianne what she had done, however, her first reply was -not very auspicious. - -"Cleveland!"--she cried, with great agitation. "No, I cannot go to -Cleveland."-- - -"You forget," said Elinor gently, "that its situation is not--that it -is not in the neighbourhood of--" - -"But it is in Somersetshire. I cannot go into Somersetshire. There, -where I looked forward to going;--no, Elinor, you cannot expect me to -go there." - -Elinor would not argue upon the propriety of overcoming such -feelings;--she only endeavoured to counteract them by working on -others;--represented it, therefore, as a measure which would fix the -time of her returning to that dear mother, whom she so much wished to -see, in a more eligible, more comfortable manner, than any other plan -could do, and perhaps without any greater delay. From Cleveland, which -was within a few miles of Bristol, the distance to Barton was not -beyond one day, though a long day's journey; and their mother's -servant might easily come there to attend them down; and as there -could be no occasion of their staying above a week at Cleveland, they -might now be at home in little more than three weeks' time. As -Marianne's affection for her mother was sincere, it must triumph with -little difficulty, over the imaginary evils she had started. - -Mrs. Jennings was so far from being weary of her guest, that she -pressed them very earnestly to return with her again from Cleveland. -Elinor was grateful for the attention, but it could not alter her -design; and their mother's concurrence being readily gained, every -thing relative to their return was arranged as far as it could -be;--and Marianne found some relief in drawing up a statement of the -hours that were yet to divide her from Barton. - -"Ah! Colonel, I do not know what you and I shall do without the Miss -Dashwoods;"--was Mrs. Jennings's address to him when he first called -on her, after their leaving her was settled--"for they are quite -resolved upon going home from the Palmers;--and how forlorn we shall -be, when I come back!--Lord! we shall sit and gape at one another as -dull as two cats." - -Perhaps Mrs. Jennings was in hopes, by this vigorous sketch of their -future ennui, to provoke him to make that offer, which might give -himself an escape from it; and if so, she had soon afterwards good -reason to think her object gained; for, on Elinor's moving to the -window to take more expeditiously the dimensions of a print, which she -was going to copy for her friend, he followed her to it with a look of -particular meaning, and conversed with her there for several minutes. -The effect of his discourse on the lady too, could not escape her -observation, for though she was too honorable to listen, and had even -changed her seat, on purpose that she might _not_ hear, to one close -by the piano forte on which Marianne was playing, she could not keep -herself from seeing that Elinor changed colour, attended with -agitation, and was too intent on what he said to pursue her -employment. Still farther in confirmation of her hopes, in the -interval of Marianne's turning from one lesson to another, some words -of the Colonel's inevitably reached her ear, in which he seemed to be -apologising for the badness of his house. This set the matter beyond a -doubt. She wondered, indeed, at his thinking it necessary to do so; -but supposed it to be the proper etiquette. What Elinor said in reply -she could not distinguish, but judged from the motion of her lips, -that she did not think _that_ any material objection;--and Mrs. -Jennings commended her in her heart for being so honest. They then -talked on for a few minutes longer without her catching a syllable, -when another lucky stop in Marianne's performance brought her these -words in the Colonel's calm voice,-- - -"I am afraid it cannot take place very soon." - -Astonished and shocked at so unlover-like a speech, she was almost -ready to cry out, "Lord! what should hinder it?"--but checking her -desire, confined herself to this silent ejaculation. - -"This is very strange!--sure he need not wait to be older." - -This delay on the Colonel's side, however, did not seem to offend or -mortify his fair companion in the least, for on their breaking up the -conference soon afterwards, and moving different ways, Mrs. Jennings -very plainly heard Elinor say, and with a voice which showed her to -feel what she said-- - -"I shall always think myself very much obliged to you." - -Mrs. Jennings was delighted with her gratitude, and only wondered that -after hearing such a sentence, the Colonel should be able to take -leave of them, as he immediately did, with the utmost sang-froid, and -go away without making her any reply!--She had not thought her old -friend could have made so indifferent a suitor. - -What had really passed between them was to this effect. - -"I have heard," said he, with great compassion, "of the injustice your -friend Mr. Ferrars has suffered from his family; for if I understand -the matter right, he has been entirely cast off by them for -persevering in his engagement with a very deserving young woman. Have -I been rightly informed?--Is it so?--" - -Elinor told him that it was. - -"The cruelty, the impolitic cruelty,"--he replied, with great -feeling,--"of dividing, or attempting to divide, two young people -long attached to each other, is terrible. Mrs. Ferrars does not know -what she may be doing--what she may drive her son to. I have seen Mr. -Ferrars two or three times in Harley Street, and am much pleased with -him. He is not a young man with whom one can be intimately acquainted -in a short time, but I have seen enough of him to wish him well for -his own sake, and as a friend of yours, I wish it still more. I -understand that he intends to take orders. Will you be so good as to -tell him that the living of Delaford, now just vacant, as I am -informed by this day's post, is his, if he think it worth his -acceptance--but _that_, perhaps, so unfortunately circumstanced as he -is now, it may be nonsense to appear to doubt; I only wish it were -more valuable. It is a rectory, but a small one; the late incumbent, I -believe, did not make more than 200 L per annum, and though it is -certainly capable of improvement, I fear, not to such an amount as to -afford him a very comfortable income. Such as it is, however, my -pleasure in presenting him to it, will be very great. Pray assure him -of it." - -Elinor's astonishment at this commission could hardly have been -greater, had the Colonel been really making her an offer of his hand. -The preferment, which only two days before she had considered as -hopeless for Edward, was already provided to enable him to marry;--and -_she_, of all people in the world, was fixed on to bestow it!--Her -emotion was such as Mrs. Jennings had attributed to a very different -cause;--but whatever minor feelings less pure, less pleasing, might -have a share in that emotion, her esteem for the general benevolence, -and her gratitude for the particular friendship, which together -prompted Colonel Brandon to this act, were strongly felt, and warmly -expressed. She thanked him for it with all her heart, spoke of -Edward's principles and disposition with that praise which she knew -them to deserve; and promised to undertake the commission with -pleasure, if it were really his wish to put off so agreeable an office -to another. But at the same time, she could not help thinking that no -one could so well perform it as himself. It was an office in short, -from which, unwilling to give Edward the pain of receiving an -obligation from _her_, she would have been very glad to be spared -herself; but Colonel Brandon, on motives of equal delicacy, declining -it likewise, still seemed so desirous of its being given through her -means, that she would not on any account make farther opposition. -Edward, she believed, was still in town, and fortunately she had heard -his address from Miss Steele. She could undertake therefore to inform -him of it, in the course of the day. After this had been settled, -Colonel Brandon began to talk of his own advantage in securing so -respectable and agreeable a neighbour, and _then_ it was that he -mentioned with regret, that the house was small and indifferent; an -evil which Elinor, as Mrs. Jennings had supposed her to do, made very -light of, at least as far as regarded its size. - -"The smallness of the house," said she, "I cannot imagine any -inconvenience to them, for it will be in proportion to their family -and income." - -By which the Colonel was surprised to find that _she_ was considering -Mr. Ferrars's marriage as the certain consequence of the presentation; -for he did not suppose it possible that Delaford living could supply -such an income, as anybody in his style of life would venture to -settle on, and he said so. - -"This little rectory _can_ do no more than make Mr. Ferrars -comfortable as a bachelor; it cannot enable him to marry. I am sorry -to say that my patronage ends with this; and my interest is hardly -more extensive. If, however, by an unforeseen chance it should be in -my power to serve him farther, I must think very differently of him -from what I now do, if I am not as ready to be useful to him then as I -sincerely wish I could be at present. What I am now doing indeed, -seems nothing at all, since it can advance him so little towards what -must be his principal, his only object of happiness. His marriage must -still be a distant good;--at least, I am afraid it cannot take place -very soon." - -Such was the sentence which, when misunderstood, so justly offended -the delicate feelings of Mrs. Jennings; but after this narration of -what really passed between Colonel Brandon and Elinor, while they -stood at the window, the gratitude expressed by the latter on their -parting, may perhaps appear in general, not less reasonably excited, -nor less properly worded than if it had arisen from an offer of -marriage. - - - - -CHAPTER XL - - -"Well, Miss Dashwood," said Mrs. Jennings, sagaciously smiling, as -soon as the gentleman had withdrawn, "I do not ask you what the -Colonel has been saying to you; for though, upon my honour, I _tried_ -to keep out of hearing, I could not help catching enough to understand -his business. And I assure you I never was better pleased in my life, -and I wish you joy of it with all my heart." - -"Thank you, ma'am," said Elinor. "It is a matter of great joy to me; -and I feel the goodness of Colonel Brandon most sensibly. There are -not many men who would act as he has done. Few people who have so -compassionate a heart! I never was more astonished in my life." - -"Lord! my dear, you are very modest. I an't the least astonished at it -in the world, for I have often thought of late, there was nothing more -likely to happen." - -"You judged from your knowledge of the Colonel's general benevolence; -but at least you could not foresee that the opportunity would so very -soon occur." - -"Opportunity!" repeated Mrs. Jennings--"Oh! as to that, when a man has -once made up his mind to such a thing, somehow or other he will soon -find an opportunity. Well, my dear, I wish you joy of it again and -again; and if ever there was a happy couple in the world, I think I -shall soon know where to look for them." - -"You mean to go to Delaford after them I suppose," said Elinor, with a -faint smile. - -"Aye, my dear, that I do, indeed. And as to the house being a bad one, -I do not know what the Colonel would be at, for it is as good a one as -ever I saw." - -"He spoke of its being out of repair." - -"Well, and whose fault is that? why don't he repair it? who should do -it but himself?" - -They were interrupted by the servant's coming in to announce the -carriage being at the door; and Mrs. Jennings immediately preparing to -go, said-- - -"Well, my dear, I must be gone before I have had half my talk out. -But, however, we may have it all over in the evening; for we shall be -quite alone. I do not ask you to go with me, for I dare say your mind -is too full of the matter to care for company; and besides, you must -long to tell your sister all about it." - -Marianne had left the room before the conversation began. - -"Certainly, ma'am, I shall tell Marianne of it; but I shall not -mention it at present to any body else." - -"Oh! very well," said Mrs. Jennings rather disappointed. "Then you -would not have me tell it to Lucy, for I think of going as far as -Holborn to-day." - -"No, ma'am, not even Lucy if you please. One day's delay will not be -very material; and till I have written to Mr. Ferrars, I think it -ought not to be mentioned to any body else. I shall do _that_ -directly. It is of importance that no time should be lost with him, -for he will of course have much to do relative to his ordination." - -This speech at first puzzled Mrs. Jennings exceedingly. Why Mr. -Ferrars was to have been written to about it in such a hurry, she -could not immediately comprehend. A few moments' reflection, however, -produced a very happy idea, and she exclaimed-- - -"Oh, ho! I understand you. Mr. Ferrars is to be the man. Well, so much -the better for him. Ay, to be sure, he must be ordained in readiness; -and I am very glad to find things are so forward between you. But, my -dear, is not this rather out of character? Should not the Colonel -write himself? Sure, he is the proper person." - -Elinor did not quite understand the beginning of Mrs. Jennings's -speech, neither did she think it worth inquiring into; and therefore -only replied to its conclusion. - -"Colonel Brandon is so delicate a man, that he rather wished any one -to announce his intentions to Mr. Ferrars than himself." - -"And so _you_ are forced to do it. Well _that_ is an odd kind of -delicacy! However, I will not disturb you (seeing her preparing to -write.) You know your own concerns best. So good-bye, my dear. I have -not heard of any thing to please me so well since Charlotte was -brought to bed." - -And away she went; but returning again in a moment-- - -"I have just been thinking of Betty's sister, my dear. I should be -very glad to get her so good a mistress. But whether she would do for -a lady's maid, I am sure I can't tell. She is an excellent housemaid, -and works very well at her needle. However, you will think of all that -at your leisure." - -"Certainly, ma'am," replied Elinor, not hearing much of what she said, -and more anxious to be alone, than to be mistress of the subject. - -How she should begin--how she should express herself in her note to -Edward, was now all her concern. The particular circumstances between -them made a difficulty of that which to any other person would have -been the easiest thing in the world; but she equally feared to say too -much or too little, and sat deliberating over her paper, with the pen -in her hand, till broken in on by the entrance of Edward himself. - -He had met Mrs. Jennings at the door in her way to the carriage, as he -came to leave his farewell card; and she, after apologising for not -returning herself, had obliged him to enter, by saying that Miss -Dashwood was above, and wanted to speak with him on very particular -business. - -Elinor had just been congratulating herself, in the midst of her -perplexity, that however difficult it might be to express herself -properly by letter, it was at least preferable to giving the -information by word of mouth, when her visitor entered, to force her -upon this greatest exertion of all. Her astonishment and confusion -were very great on his so sudden appearance. She had not seen him -before since his engagement became public, and therefore not since his -knowing her to be acquainted with it; which, with the consciousness of -what she had been thinking of, and what she had to tell him, made her -feel particularly uncomfortable for some minutes. He too was much -distressed; and they sat down together in a most promising state of -embarrassment. Whether he had asked her pardon for his intrusion on -first coming into the room, he could not recollect; but determining to -be on the safe side, he made his apology in form as soon as he could -say any thing, after taking a chair. - -"Mrs. Jennings told me," said he, "that you wished to speak with me, -at least I understood her so--or I certainly should not have intruded -on you in such a manner; though at the same time, I should have been -extremely sorry to leave London without seeing you and your sister; -especially as it will most likely be some time--it is not probable -that I should soon have the pleasure of meeting you again. I go to -Oxford tomorrow." - -"You would not have gone, however," said Elinor, recovering herself, -and determined to get over what she so much dreaded as soon as -possible, "without receiving our good wishes, even if we had not been -able to give them in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she -said. I have something of consequence to inform you of, which I was on -the point of communicating by paper. I am charged with a most -agreeable office (breathing rather faster than usual as she spoke.) -Colonel Brandon, who was here only ten minutes ago, has desired me to -say, that understanding you mean to take orders, he has great pleasure -in offering you the living of Delaford now just vacant, and only -wishes it were more valuable. Allow me to congratulate you on having -so respectable and well-judging a friend, and to join in his wish that -the living--it is about two hundred a-year--were much more -considerable, and such as might better enable you to--as might be more -than a temporary accommodation to yourself--such, in short, as might -establish all your views of happiness." - -What Edward felt, as he could not say it himself, it cannot be -expected that any one else should say for him. He _looked_ all the -astonishment which such unexpected, such unthought-of information -could not fail of exciting; but he said only these two words-- - -"Colonel Brandon!" - -"Yes," continued Elinor, gathering more resolution, as some of the -worst was over, "Colonel Brandon means it as a testimony of his -concern for what has lately passed--for the cruel situation in which -the unjustifiable conduct of your family has placed you--a concern -which I am sure Marianne, myself, and all your friends, must share; -and likewise as a proof of his high esteem for your general character, -and his particular approbation of your behaviour on the present -occasion." - -"Colonel Brandon give _me_ a living!--Can it be possible?" - -"The unkindness of your own relations has made you astonished to find -friendship any where." - -"No," replied be, with sudden consciousness, "not to find it in _you_; -for I cannot be ignorant that to you, to your goodness, I owe it all. -I feel it--I would express it if I could--but, as you well know, I am -no orator." - -"You are very much mistaken. I do assure you that you owe it entirely, -at least almost entirely, to your own merit, and Colonel Brandon's -discernment of it. I have had no hand in it. I did not even know, till -I understood his design, that the living was vacant; nor had it ever -occurred to me that he might have had such a living in his gift. As a -friend of mine, of my family, he may, perhaps--indeed I know he _has_, -still greater pleasure in bestowing it; but, upon my word, you owe -nothing to my solicitation." - -Truth obliged her to acknowledge some small share in the action, but -she was at the same time so unwilling to appear as the benefactress of -Edward, that she acknowledged it with hesitation; which probably -contributed to fix that suspicion in his mind which had recently -entered it. For a short time he sat deep in thought, after Elinor had -ceased to speak;--at last, and as if it were rather an effort, he -said-- - -"Colonel Brandon seems a man of great worth and respectability. I have -always heard him spoken of as such, and your brother I know esteems -him highly. He is undoubtedly a sensible man, and in his manners -perfectly the gentleman." - -"Indeed," replied Elinor, "I believe that you will find him, on -farther acquaintance, all that you have heard him to be, and as you -will be such very near neighbours (for I understand the parsonage is -almost close to the mansion-house,) it is particularly important that -he _should_ be all this." - -Edward made no answer; but when she had turned away her head, gave her -a look so serious, so earnest, so uncheerful, as seemed to say, that -he might hereafter wish the distance between the parsonage and the -mansion-house much greater. - -"Colonel Brandon, I think, lodges in St. James Street," said he, soon -afterwards, rising from his chair. - -Elinor told him the number of the house. - -"I must hurry away then, to give him those thanks which you will not -allow me to give _you_; to assure him that he has made me a very--an -exceedingly happy man." - -Elinor did not offer to detain him; and they parted, with a very -earnest assurance on _her_ side of her unceasing good wishes for his -happiness in every change of situation that might befall him; on -_his_, with rather an attempt to return the same good will, than the -power of expressing it. - -"When I see him again," said Elinor to herself, as the door shut him -out, "I shall see him the husband of Lucy." - -And with this pleasing anticipation, she sat down to reconsider the -past, recall the words and endeavour to comprehend all the feelings of -Edward; and, of course, to reflect on her own with discontent. - -When Mrs. Jennings came home, though she returned from seeing people -whom she had never seen before, and of whom therefore she must have a -great deal to say, her mind was so much more occupied by the important -secret in her possession, than by anything else, that she reverted to -it again as soon as Elinor appeared. - -"Well, my dear," she cried, "I sent you up the young man. Did not I do -right?--And I suppose you had no great difficulty--You did not find -him very unwilling to accept your proposal?" - -"No, ma'am; _that_ was not very likely." - -"Well, and how soon will he be ready?--For it seems all to depend upon -that." - -"Really," said Elinor, "I know so little of these kind of forms, that -I can hardly even conjecture as to the time, or the preparation -necessary; but I suppose two or three months will complete his -ordination." - -"Two or three months!" cried Mrs. Jennings; "Lord! my dear, how calmly -you talk of it; and can the Colonel wait two or three months! Lord -bless me!--I am sure it would put _me_ quite out of patience!--And -though one would be very glad to do a kindness by poor Mr. Ferrars, I -do think it is not worth while to wait two or three months for him. -Sure somebody else might be found that would do as well; somebody that -is in orders already." - -"My dear ma'am," said Elinor, "what can you be thinking of? Why, -Colonel Brandon's only object is to be of use to Mr. Ferrars." - -"Lord bless you, my dear! Sure you do not mean to persuade me that the -Colonel only marries you for the sake of giving ten guineas to Mr. -Ferrars!" - -[Illustration: _Both gained considerable amusement_] - -The deception could not continue after this; and an explanation -immediately took place, by which both gained considerable amusement -for the moment, without any material loss of happiness to either, for -Mrs. Jennings only exchanged one form of delight for another, and -still without forfeiting her expectation of the first. - -"Aye, aye, the parsonage is but a small one," said she, after the -first ebullition of surprise and satisfaction was over, "and very -likely _may_ be out of repair; but to hear a man apologising, as I -thought, for a house that to my knowledge has five sitting rooms on -the ground-floor, and I think the housekeeper told me could make up -fifteen beds! and to you too, that had been used to live in Barton -cottage! It seems quite ridiculous. But, my dear, we must touch up the -Colonel to do some thing to the parsonage, and make it comfortable for -them, before Lucy goes to it." - -"But Colonel Brandon does not seem to have any idea of the living's -being enough to allow them to marry." - -"The Colonel is a ninny, my dear; because he has two thousand a-year -himself, he thinks that nobody else can marry on less. Take my word -for it, that, if I am alive, I shall be paying a visit at Delaford -Parsonage before Michaelmas; and I am sure I shan't go if Lucy an't -there." - -Elinor was quite of her opinion, as to the probability of their not -waiting for any thing more. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI - - -Edward, having carried his thanks to Colonel Brandon, proceeded with -his happiness to Lucy; and such was the excess of it by the time he -reached Bartlett's Buildings, that she was able to assure Mrs. -Jennings, who called on her again the next day with her -congratulations, that she had never seen him in such spirits before in -her life. - -Her own happiness, and her own spirits, were at least very certain; -and she joined Mrs. Jennings most heartily in her expectation of their -being all comfortably together in Delaford Parsonage before -Michaelmas. So far was she, at the same time, from any backwardness to -give Elinor that credit which Edward _would_ give her, that she spoke -of her friendship for them both with the most grateful warmth, was -ready to own all their obligation to her, and openly declared that no -exertion for their good on Miss Dashwood's part, either present or -future, would ever surprise her, for she believed her capable of doing -any thing in the world for those she really valued. As for Colonel -Brandon, she was not only ready to worship him as a saint, but was -moreover truly anxious that he should be treated as one in all worldly -concerns; anxious that his tithes should be raised to the utmost; and -scarcely resolved to avail herself, at Delaford, as far as she -possibly could, of his servants, his carriage, his cows, and his -poultry. - -It was now above a week since John Dashwood had called in Berkeley -Street, and as since that time no notice had been taken by them of his -wife's indisposition, beyond one verbal enquiry, Elinor began to feel -it necessary to pay her a visit. This was an obligation, however, -which not only opposed her own inclination, but which had not the -assistance of any encouragement from her companions. Marianne, not -contented with absolutely refusing to go herself, was very urgent to -prevent her sister's going at all; and Mrs. Jennings, though her -carriage was always at Elinor's service, so very much disliked Mrs. -John Dashwood, that not even her curiosity to see how she looked after -the late discovery, nor her strong desire to affront her by taking -Edward's part, could overcome her unwillingness to be in her company -again. The consequence was, that Elinor set out by herself to pay a -visit, for which no one could really have less inclination, and to run -the risk of a tete-a-tete with a woman, whom neither of the others had -so much reason to dislike. - -Mrs. Dashwood was denied; but before the carriage could turn from the -house, her husband accidentally came out. He expressed great pleasure -in meeting Elinor, told her that he had been just going to call in -Berkeley Street, and, assuring her that Fanny would be very glad to -see her, invited her to come in. - -They walked up stairs in to the drawing-room. Nobody was there. - -"Fanny is in her own room, I suppose," said he:--"I will go to her -presently, for I am sure she will not have the least objection in the -world to seeing _you._ Very far from it, indeed. _Now_ especially -there cannot be--but however, you and Marianne were always great -favourites. Why would not Marianne come?"-- - -Elinor made what excuse she could for her. - -"I am not sorry to see you alone," he replied, "for I have a good deal -to say to you. This living of Colonel Brandon's--can it be true?--has -he really given it to Edward?--I heard it yesterday by chance, and was -coming to you on purpose to enquire farther about it." - -"It is perfectly true. Colonel Brandon has given the living of -Delaford to Edward." - -"Really!--Well, this is very astonishing!--no relationship!--no -connection between them!--and now that livings fetch such a -price!--what was the value of this?" - -"About two hundred a year." - -"Very well--and for the next presentation to a living of that -value--supposing the late incumbent to have been old and sickly, and -likely to vacate it soon--he might have got I dare say--fourteen -hundred pounds. And how came he not to have settled that matter before -this person's death? _Now_ indeed it would be too late to sell it, but -a man of Colonel Brandon's sense!--I wonder he should be so -improvident in a point of such common, such natural, concern!--Well, I -am convinced that there is a vast deal of inconsistency in almost -every human character. I suppose, however--on recollection--that the -case may probably be _this._ Edward is only to hold the living till -the person to whom the Colonel has really sold the presentation, is -old enough to take it. Aye, aye, that is the fact, depend upon it." - -Elinor contradicted it, however, very positively; and by relating that -she had herself been employed in conveying the offer from Colonel -Brandon to Edward, and, therefore, must understand the terms on which -it was given, obliged him to submit to her authority. - -"It is truly astonishing!"--he cried, after hearing what she -said--"what could be the Colonel's motive?" - -"A very simple one--to be of use to Mr. Ferrars." - -"Well, well; whatever Colonel Brandon may be, Edward is a very lucky -man. You will not mention the matter to Fanny, however, for though I -have broke it to her, and she bears it vastly well,--she will not like -to hear it much talked of." - -Elinor had some difficulty here to refrain from observing, that she -thought Fanny might have borne with composure, an acquisition of -wealth to her brother, by which neither she nor her child could be -possibly impoverished. - -"Mrs. Ferrars," added he, lowering his voice to the tone becoming so -important a subject, "knows nothing about it at present, and I believe -it will be best to keep it entirely concealed from her as long as may -be. When the marriage takes place, I fear she must hear of it all." - -"But why should such precaution be used? Though it is not to be -supposed that Mrs. Ferrars can have the smallest satisfaction in -knowing that her son has money enough to live upon,--for _that_ must -be quite out of the question; yet why, upon her late behaviour, is she -supposed to feel at all? She has done with her son, she cast him off -for ever, and has made all those over whom she had any influence, cast -him off likewise. Surely, after doing so, she cannot be imagined -liable to any impression of sorrow or of joy on his account--she -cannot be interested in any thing that befalls him. She would not be -so weak as to throw away the comfort of a child, and yet retain the -anxiety of a parent!" - -"Ah! Elinor," said John, "your reasoning is very good, but it is -founded on ignorance of human nature. When Edward's unhappy match -takes place, depend upon it his mother will feel as much as if she had -never discarded him; and, therefore every circumstance that may -accelerate that dreadful event, must be concealed from her as much as -possible. Mrs. Ferrars can never forget that Edward is her son." - -"You surprise me; I should think it must nearly have escaped her -memory by _this_ time." - -"You wrong her exceedingly. Mrs. Ferrars is one of the most -affectionate mothers in the world." - -Elinor was silent. - -"We think _now_,"--said Mr. Dashwood, after a short pause, "of -_Robert's_ marrying Miss Morton." - -Elinor, smiling at the grave and decisive importance of her brother's -tone, calmly replied-- - -"The lady, I suppose, has no choice in the affair." - -"Choice!--how do you mean?" - -"I only mean that I suppose, from your manner of speaking, it must be -the same to Miss Morton whether she marry Edward or Robert." - -"Certainly, there can be no difference; for Robert will now to all -intents and purposes be considered as the eldest son;--and as to any -thing else, they are both very agreeable young men: I do not know that -one is superior to the other." - -Elinor said no more, and John was also for a short time silent. His -reflections ended thus. - -"Of _one_ thing, my dear sister," kindly taking her hand, and speaking -in an awful whisper,--"I may assure you; and I _will_ do it, because I -know it must gratify you. I have good reason to think--indeed I have -it from the best authority, or I should not repeat it, for otherwise -it would be very wrong to say any thing about it,--but I have it from -the very best authority,--not that I ever precisely heard Mrs. Ferrars -say it herself--but her daughter _did_, and I have it from her,--that -in short, whatever objections there might be against a certain--a -certain connection, you understand me,--it would have been far -preferable to her, it would not have given her half the vexation that -_this_ does. I was exceedingly pleased to hear that Mrs. Ferrars -considered it in that light; a very gratifying circumstance you know -to us all. 'It would have been beyond comparison,' she said, 'the -least evil of the two, and she would be glad to compound _now_ for -nothing worse.' But however, all that is quite out of the -question,--not to be thought of or mentioned. As to any attachment you -know, it never could be; all that is gone by. But I thought I would -just tell you of this, because I knew how much it must please you. Not -that you have any reason to regret, my dear Elinor. There is no doubt -of your doing exceedingly well,--quite as well, or better, perhaps, -all things considered. Has Colonel Brandon been with you lately?" - -Elinor had heard enough, if not to gratify her vanity, and raise her -self-importance, to agitate her nerves and fill her mind;--and she was -therefore glad to be spared from the necessity of saying much in reply -herself, and from the danger of hearing any thing more from her -brother, by the entrance of Mr. Robert Ferrars. After a few moments' -chat, John Dashwood, recollecting that Fanny was yet uninformed of her -sister's being there, quitted the room in quest of her; and Elinor was -left to improve her acquaintance with Robert, who, by the gay -unconcern, the happy self-complacency of his manner while enjoying so -unfair a division of his mother's love and liberality, to the -prejudice of his banished brother, earned only by his own dissipated -course of life, and that brother's integrity, was confirming her most -unfavourable opinion of his head and heart. - -[Illustration: "_Of one thing I may assure you._"] - -They had scarcely been two minutes by themselves, before he began to -speak of Edward; for he, too, had heard of the living, and was very -inquisitive on the subject. Elinor repeated the particulars of it, as -she had given them to John; and their effect on Robert, though very -different, was not less striking than it had been on _him._ He laughed -most immoderately. The idea of Edward's being a clergyman, and living -in a small parsonage-house, diverted him beyond measure;--and when to -that was added the fanciful imagery of Edward reading prayers in a -white surplice, and publishing the banns of marriage between John -Smith and Mary Brown, he could conceive nothing more ridiculous. - -Elinor, while she waited in silence and immovable gravity, the -conclusion of such folly, could not restrain her eyes from being fixed -on him with a look that spoke all the contempt it excited. It was a -look, however, very well bestowed, for it relieved her own feelings, -and gave no intelligence to him. He was recalled from wit to wisdom, -not by any reproof of her's, but by his own sensibility. - -"We may treat it as a joke," said he, at last, recovering from the -affected laugh which had considerably lengthened out the genuine -gaiety of the moment; "but, upon my soul, it is a most serious -business. Poor Edward! he is ruined for ever. I am extremely sorry for -it; for I know him to be a very good-hearted creature,--as -well-meaning a fellow perhaps, as any in the world. You must not judge -of him, Miss Dashwood, from _your_ slight acquaintance. Poor Edward! -His manners are certainly not the happiest in nature. But we are not -all born, you know, with the same powers,--the same address. Poor -fellow! to see him in a circle of strangers! to be sure it was -pitiable enough; but upon my soul, I believe he has as good a heart as -any in the kingdom; and I declare and protest to you I never was so -shocked in my life, as when it all burst forth. I could not believe -it. My mother was the first person who told me of it; and I, feeling -myself called on to act with resolution, immediately said to her,--'My -dear madam, I do not know what you may intend to do on the occasion, -but as for myself, I must say, that if Edward does marry this young -woman, I never will see him again.' That was what I said immediately. -I was most uncommonly shocked, indeed! Poor Edward! he has done for -himself completely,--shut himself out for ever from all decent -society! but, as I directly said to my mother, I am not in the least -surprised at it; from his style of education, it was always to be -expected. My poor mother was half frantic." - -"Have you ever seen the lady?" - -"Yes; once, while she was staying in this house, I happened to drop in -for ten minutes; and I saw quite enough of her. The merest awkward -country girl, without style, or elegance, and almost without beauty. I -remember her perfectly. Just the kind of girl I should suppose likely -to captivate poor Edward. I offered immediately, as soon as my mother -related the affair to me, to talk to him myself, and dissuade him from -the match; but it was too late _then_, I found, to do any thing, for -unluckily, I was not in the way at first, and knew nothing of it till -after the breach had taken place, when it was not for me, you know, to -interfere. But had I been informed of it a few hours earlier, I think -it is most probable that something might have been hit on. I certainly -should have represented it to Edward in a very strong light. 'My dear -fellow,' I should have said, 'consider what you are doing. You are -making a most disgraceful connection, and such a one as your family -are unanimous in disapproving.' I cannot help thinking, in short, that -means might have been found. But now it is all too late. He must be -starved, you know, that is certain; absolutely starved." - -He had just settled this point with great composure, when the entrance -of Mrs. John Dashwood put an end to the subject. But though _she_ -never spoke of it out of her own family, Elinor could see its -influence on her mind, in the something like confusion of countenance -with which she entered, and an attempt at cordiality in her behaviour -to herself. She even proceeded so far as to be concerned to find that -Elinor and her sister were so soon to leave town, as she had hoped to -see more of them;--an exertion in which her husband, who attended her -into the room, and hung enamoured over her accents, seemed to -distinguish every thing that was most affectionate and graceful. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - - -One other short call in Harley Street, in which Elinor received her -brother's congratulations on their travelling so far towards Barton -without any expense, and on Colonel Brandon's being to follow them to -Cleveland in a day or two, completed the intercourse of the brother -and sisters in town;--and a faint invitation from Fanny, to come to -Norland whenever it should happen to be in their way, which of all -things was the most unlikely to occur, with a more warm, though less -public, assurance, from John to Elinor, of the promptitude with which -he should come to see her at Delaford, was all that foretold any -meeting in the country. - -It amused her to observe that all her friends seemed determined to -send her to Delaford;--a place, in which, of all others, she would now -least choose to visit, or wish to reside; for not only was it -considered as her future home by her brother and Mrs. Jennings, but -even Lucy, when they parted, gave her a pressing invitation to visit -her there. - -Very early in April, and tolerably early in the day, the two parties -from Hanover Square and Berkeley Street set out from their respective -homes, to meet, by appointment, on the road. For the convenience of -Charlotte and her child, they were to be more than two days on their -journey, and Mr. Palmer, travelling more expeditiously with Colonel -Brandon, was to join them at Cleveland soon after their arrival. - -Marianne, few as had been her hours of comfort in London, and eager as -she had long been to quit it, could not, when it came to the point, -bid adieu to the house in which she had for the last time enjoyed -those hopes, and that confidence, in Willoughby, which were now -extinguished for ever, without great pain. Nor could she leave the -place in which Willoughby remained, busy in new engagements, and new -schemes, in which _she_ could have no share, without shedding many -tears. - -Elinor's satisfaction, at the moment of removal, was more positive. -She had no such object for her lingering thoughts to fix on, she left -no creature behind, from whom it would give her a moment's regret to -be divided for ever, she was pleased to be free herself from the -persecution of Lucy's friendship, she was grateful for bringing her -sister away unseen by Willoughby since his marriage, and she looked -forward with hope to what a few months of tranquility at Barton might -do towards restoring Marianne's peace of mind, and confirming her own. - -Their journey was safely performed. The second day brought them into -the cherished, or the prohibited, county of Somerset, for as such was -it dwelt on by turns in Marianne's imagination; and in the forenoon of -the third they drove up to Cleveland. - -Cleveland was a spacious, modern-built house, situated on a sloping -lawn. It had no park, but the pleasure-grounds were tolerably -extensive; and like every other place of the same degree of -importance, it had its open shrubbery, and closer wood walk, a road of -smooth gravel winding round a plantation, led to the front, the lawn -was dotted over with timber, the house itself was under the -guardianship of the fir, the mountain-ash, and the acacia, and a thick -screen of them altogether, interspersed with tall Lombardy poplars, -shut out the offices. - -Marianne entered the house with a heart swelling with emotion from the -consciousness of being only eighty miles from Barton, and not thirty -from Combe Magna; and before she had been five minutes within its -walls, while the others were busily helping Charlotte to show her -child to the housekeeper, she quitted it again, stealing away through -the winding shrubberies, now just beginning to be in beauty, to gain a -distant eminence; where, from its Grecian temple, her eye, wandering -over a wide tract of country to the south-east, could fondly rest on -the farthest ridge of hills in the horizon, and fancy that from their -summits Combe Magna might be seen. - -In such moments of precious, invaluable misery, she rejoiced in tears -of agony to be at Cleveland; and as she returned by a different -circuit to the house, feeling all the happy privilege of country -liberty, of wandering from place to place in free and luxurious -solitude, she resolved to spend almost every hour of every day while -she remained with the Palmers, in the indulgence of such solitary -rambles. - -[Illustration: _Showing her child to the housekeeper._] - -She returned just in time to join the others as they quitted the -house, on an excursion through its more immediate premises; and the -rest of the morning was easily whiled away, in lounging round the -kitchen garden, examining the bloom upon its walls, and listening to -the gardener's lamentations upon blights, in dawdling through the -green-house, where the loss of her favourite plants, unwarily exposed, -and nipped by the lingering frost, raised the laughter of -Charlotte,--and in visiting her poultry-yard, where, in the -disappointed hopes of her dairy-maid, by hens forsaking their nests, -or being stolen by a fox, or in the rapid decrease of a promising -young brood, she found fresh sources of merriment. - -The morning was fine and dry, and Marianne, in her plan of employment -abroad, had not calculated for any change of weather during their stay -at Cleveland. With great surprise therefore, did she find herself -prevented by a settled rain from going out again after dinner. She had -depended on a twilight walk to the Grecian temple, and perhaps all -over the grounds, and an evening merely cold or damp would not have -deterred her from it; but a heavy and settled rain even _she_ could -not fancy dry or pleasant weather for walking. - -Their party was small, and the hours passed quietly away. Mrs. Palmer -had her child, and Mrs. Jennings her carpet-work; they talked of the -friends they had left behind, arranged Lady Middleton's engagements, -and wondered whether Mr. Palmer and Colonel Brandon would get farther -than Reading that night. Elinor, however little concerned in it, -joined in their discourse; and Marianne, who had the knack of finding -her way in every house to the library, however it might be avoided by -the family in general, soon procured herself a book. - -Nothing was wanting on Mrs. Palmer's side that constant and friendly -good humour could do, to make them feel themselves welcome. The -openness and heartiness of her manner more than atoned for that want -of recollection and elegance which made her often deficient in the -forms of politeness; her kindness, recommended by so pretty a face, -was engaging; her folly, though evident was not disgusting, because it -was not conceited; and Elinor could have forgiven every thing but her -laugh. - -[Illustration: _The gardener's lamentations._] - -The two gentlemen arrived the next day to a very late dinner, -affording a pleasant enlargement of the party, and a very welcome -variety to their conversation, which a long morning of the same -continued rain had reduced very low. - -Elinor had seen so little of Mr. Palmer, and in that little had seen -so much variety in his address to her sister and herself, that she -knew not what to expect to find him in his own family. She found him, -however, perfectly the gentleman in his behaviour to all his visitors, -and only occasionally rude to his wife and her mother; she found him -very capable of being a pleasant companion, and only prevented from -being so always, by too great an aptitude to fancy himself as much -superior to people in general, as he must feel himself to be to Mrs. -Jennings and Charlotte. For the rest of his character and habits, they -were marked, as far as Elinor could perceive, with no traits at all -unusual in his sex and time of life. He was nice in his eating, -uncertain in his hours; fond of his child, though affecting to slight -it; and idled away the mornings at billiards, which ought to have been -devoted to business. She liked him, however, upon the whole, much -better than she had expected, and in her heart was not sorry that she -could like him no more; not sorry to be driven by the observation of -his epicurism, his selfishness, and his conceit, to rest with -complacency on the remembrance of Edward's generous temper, simple -taste, and diffident feelings. - -Of Edward, or at least of some of his concerns, she now received -intelligence from Colonel Brandon, who had been into Dorsetshire -lately; and who, treating her at once as the disinterested friend of -Mr. Ferrars, and the kind confidante of himself, talked to her a -great deal of the parsonage at Delaford, described its deficiencies, -and told her what he meant to do himself towards removing them. His -behaviour to her in this, as well as in every other particular, his -open pleasure in meeting her after an absence of only ten days, his -readiness to converse with her, and his deference for her opinion, -might very well justify Mrs. Jennings's persuasion of his attachment, -and would have been enough, perhaps, had not Elinor still, as from the -first, believed Marianne his real favourite, to make her suspect it -herself. But as it was, such a notion had scarcely ever entered her -head, except by Mrs. Jennings's suggestion; and she could not help -believing herself the nicest observer of the two: she watched his -eyes, while Mrs. Jennings thought only of his behaviour; and while his -looks of anxious solicitude on Marianne's feeling, in her head and -throat, the beginning of a heavy cold, because unexpressed by words, -entirely escaped the latter lady's observation,--_she_ could discover -in them the quick feelings, and needless alarm of a lover. - -Two delightful twilight walks on the third and fourth evenings of her -being there, not merely on the dry gravel of the shrubbery, but all -over the grounds, and especially in the most distant parts of them, -where there was something more of wildness than in the rest, where the -trees were the oldest, and the grass was the longest and wettest, -had--assisted by the still greater imprudence of sitting in her wet -shoes and stockings--given Marianne a cold so violent as, though for a -day or two trifled with or denied, would force itself by increasing -ailments on the concern of every body, and the notice of herself. -Prescriptions poured in from all quarters, and as usual, were all -declined. Though heavy and feverish, with a pain in her limbs, and a -cough, and a sore throat, a good night's rest was to cure her -entirely; and it was with difficulty that Elinor prevailed on her, -when she went to bed, to try one or two of the simplest of the -remedies. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - - -Marianne got up the next morning at her usual time; to every inquiry -replied that she was better, and tried to prove herself so, by -engaging in her accustomary employments. But a day spent in sitting -shivering over the fire with a book in her hand, which she was unable -to read, or in lying, weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak much -in favour of her amendment; and when, at last, she went early to bed, -more and more indisposed, Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her -sister's composure, who, though attending and nursing her the whole -day, against Marianne's inclination, and forcing proper medicines on -her at night, trusted, like Marianne, to the certainty and efficacy of -sleep, and felt no real alarm. - -A very restless and feverish night, however, disappointed the -expectation of both; and when Marianne, after persisting in rising, -confessed herself unable to sit up, and returned voluntarily to her -bed, Elinor was very ready to adopt Mrs. Jennings's advice, of sending -for the Palmers' apothecary. - -He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging Miss Dashwood to -expect that a very few days would restore her sister to health, yet, -by pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid tendency, and allowing -the word "infection" to pass his lips, gave instant alarm to Mrs. -Palmer, on her baby's account. Mrs. Jennings, who had been inclined -from the first to think Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor, -now looked very grave on Mr. Harris's report, and confirming -Charlotte's fears and caution, urged the necessity of her immediate -removal with her infant; and Mr. Palmer, though treating their -apprehensions as idle, found the anxiety and importunity of his wife -too great to be withstood. Her departure, therefore, was fixed on; and -within an hour after Mr. Harris's arrival, she set off, with her -little boy and his nurse, for the house of a near relation of Mr. -Palmer's, who lived a few miles on the other side of Bath; whither her -husband promised, at her earnest entreaty, to join her in a day or -two; and whither she was almost equally urgent with her mother to -accompany her. Mrs. Jennings, however, with a kindness of heart which -made Elinor really love her, declared her resolution of not stirring -from Cleveland as long as Marianne remained ill, and of endeavouring, -by her own attentive care, to supply to her the place of the mother -she had taken her from; and Elinor found her on every occasion a most -willing and active helpmate, desirous to share in all her fatigues, -and often by her better experience in nursing, of material use. - -Poor Marianne, languid and low from the nature of her malady, and -feeling herself universally ill, could no longer hope that tomorrow -would find her recovered; and the idea of what tomorrow would have -produced, but for this unlucky illness, made every ailment severe; for -on that day they were to have begun their journey home; and, attended -the whole way by a servant of Mrs. Jennings, were to have taken their -mother by surprise on the following forenoon. The little she said was -all in lamentation of this inevitable delay; though Elinor tried to -raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she _then_ really believed -herself, that it would be a very short one. - -The next day produced little or no alteration in the state of the -patient; she certainly was not better, and, except that there was no -amendment, did not appear worse. Their party was now farther reduced; -for Mr. Palmer, though very unwilling to go as well from real humanity -and good-nature, as from a dislike of appearing to be frightened away -by his wife, was persuaded at last by Colonel Brandon to perform his -promise of following her; and while he was preparing to go, Colonel -Brandon himself, with a much greater exertion, began to talk of going -likewise. Here, however, the kindness of Mrs. Jennings interposed most -acceptably; for to send the Colonel away while his love was in so much -uneasiness on her sister's account, would be to deprive them both, she -thought, of every comfort; and therefore telling him at once that his -stay at Cleveland was necessary to herself, that she should want him -to play at piquet of an evening, while Miss Dashwood was above with -her sister, &c. she urged him so strongly to remain, that he, who was -gratifying the first wish of his own heart by a compliance, could not -long even affect to demur; especially as Mrs. Jennings's entreaty was -warmly seconded by Mr. Palmer, who seemed to feel a relief to himself, -in leaving behind him a person so well able to assist or advise Miss -Dashwood in any emergence. - -Marianne was, of course, kept in ignorance of all these arrangements. -She knew not that she had been the means of sending the owners of -Cleveland away, in about seven days from the time of their arrival. It -gave her no surprise that she saw nothing of Mrs. Palmer; and as it -gave her likewise no concern, she never mentioned her name. - -Two days passed away from the time of Mr. Palmer's departure, and her -situation continued, with little variation, the same. Mr. Harris, who -attended her every day, still talked boldly of a speedy recovery, and -Miss Dashwood was equally sanguine; but the expectation of the others -was by no means so cheerful. Mrs. Jennings had determined very early -in the seizure that Marianne would never get over it, and Colonel -Brandon, who was chiefly of use in listening to Mrs. Jennings's -forebodings, was not in a state of mind to resist their influence. He -tried to reason himself out of fears, which the different judgment of -the apothecary seemed to render absurd; but the many hours of each day -in which he was left entirely alone, were but too favourable for the -admission of every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from his -mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more. - -On the morning of the third day however, the gloomy anticipations of -both were almost done away; for when Mr. Harris arrived, he declared -his patient materially better. Her pulse was much stronger, and every -symptom more favourable than on the preceding visit. Elinor, confirmed -in every pleasant hope, was all cheerfulness; rejoicing that in her -letters to her mother, she had pursued her own judgment rather than -her friend's, in making very light of the indisposition which delayed -them at Cleveland; and almost fixing on the time when Marianne would -be able to travel. - -But the day did not close so auspiciously as it began. Towards the -evening Marianne became ill again, growing more heavy, restless, and -uncomfortable than before. Her sister, however, still sanguine, was -willing to attribute the change to nothing more than the fatigue of -having sat up to have her bed made; and carefully administering the -cordials prescribed, saw her, with satisfaction, sink at last into a -slumber, from which she expected the most beneficial effects. Her -sleep, though not so quiet as Elinor wished to see it, lasted a -considerable time; and anxious to observe the result of it herself, -she resolved to sit with her during the whole of it. Mrs. Jennings, -knowing nothing of any change in the patient, went unusually early to -bed; her maid, who was one of the principal nurses, was recreating -herself in the housekeeper's room, and Elinor remained alone with -Marianne. - -The repose of the latter became more and more disturbed; and her -sister, who watched, with unremitting attention her continual change -of posture, and heard the frequent but inarticulate sounds of -complaint which passed her lips, was almost wishing to rouse her from -so painful a slumber, when Marianne, suddenly awakened by some -accidental noise in the house, started hastily up, and, with feverish -wildness, cried out,-- - -"Is mama coming?--" - -"Not yet," cried the other, concealing her terror, and assisting -Marianne to lie down again, "but she will be here, I hope, before it -is long. It is a great way, you know, from hence to Barton." - -"But she must not go round by London," cried Marianne, in the same -hurried manner. "I shall never see her, if she goes by London." - -Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not quite herself, and, while -attempting to soothe her, eagerly felt her pulse. It was lower and -quicker than ever! and Marianne, still talking wildly of mama, her -alarm increased so rapidly, as to determine her on sending instantly -for Mr. Harris, and despatching a messenger to Barton for her mother. -To consult with Colonel Brandon on the best means of effecting the -latter, was a thought which immediately followed the resolution of its -performance; and as soon she had rung up the maid to take her place by -her sister, she hastened down to the drawing-room, where she knew he -was generally to be found at a much later hour than the present. - -It was no time for hesitation. Her fears and her difficulties were -immediately before him. Her fears, he had no courage, no confidence to -attempt the removal of; he listened to them in silent despondence; but -her difficulties were instantly obviated, for with a readiness that -seemed to speak the occasion, and the service pre-arranged in his -mind, he offered himself as the messenger who should fetch Mrs. -Dashwood. Elinor made no resistance that was not easily overcome. She -thanked him with brief, though fervent gratitude, and while he went to -hurry off his servant with a message to Mr. Harris, and an order for -post-horses directly, she wrote a few lines to her mother. - -The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel Brandon--or -such a companion for her mother,--how gratefully was it felt!--a -companion whose judgment would guide, whose attendance must relieve, -and whose friendship might soothe her!--as far as the shock of such a -summons _could_ be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his -assistance, would lessen it. - -_He_, meanwhile, whatever he might feel, acted with all the firmness -of a collected mind, made every necessary arrangement with the utmost -despatch, and calculated with exactness the time in which she might -look for his return. Not a moment was lost in delay of any kind. The -horses arrived, even before they were expected, and Colonel Brandon -only pressing her hand with a look of solemnity, and a few words -spoken too low to reach her ear, hurried into the carriage. It was -then about twelve o'clock, and she returned to her sister's apartment -to wait for the arrival of the apothecary, and to watch by her the -rest of the night. It was a night of almost equal suffering to both. -Hour after hour passed away in sleepless pain and delirium on -Marianne's side, and in the most cruel anxiety on Elinor's, before Mr. -Harris appeared. Her apprehensions once raised, paid by their excess -for all her former security; and the servant who sat up with her, for -she would not allow Mrs. Jennings to be called, only tortured her -more, by hints of what her mistress had always thought. - -Marianne's ideas were still, at intervals, fixed incoherently on her -mother, and whenever she mentioned her name, it gave a pang to the -heart of poor Elinor, who, reproaching herself for having trifled with -so many days of illness, and wretched for some immediate relief, -fancied that all relief might soon be in vain, that every thing had -been delayed too long, and pictured to herself her suffering mother -arriving too late to see this darling child, or to see her rational. - -She was on the point of sending again for Mr. Harris, or if _he_ could -not come, for some other advice, when the former--but not till after -five o'clock--arrived. His opinion, however, made some little amends -for his delay, for though acknowledging a very unexpected and -unpleasant alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger to -be material, and talked of the relief which a fresh mode of treatment -must procure, with a confidence which, in a lesser degree, was -communicated to Elinor. He promised to call again in the course of -three or four hours, and left both the patient and her anxious -attendant more composed than he had found them. - -With strong concern, and with many reproaches for not being called to -their aid, did Mrs. Jennings hear in the morning of what had passed. -Her former apprehensions, now with greater reason restored, left her -no doubt of the event; and though trying to speak comfort to Elinor, -her conviction of her sister's danger would not allow her to offer the -comfort of hope. Her heart was really grieved. The rapid decay, the -early death of a girl so young, so lovely as Marianne, must have -struck a less interested person with concern. On Mrs. Jennings's -compassion she had other claims. She had been for three months her -companion, was still under her care, and she was known to have been -greatly injured, and long unhappy. The distress of her sister too, -particularly a favourite, was before her;--and as for their mother, -when Mrs. Jennings considered that Marianne might probably be to _her_ -what Charlotte was to herself, her sympathy in _her_ sufferings was -very sincere. - -Mr. Harris was punctual in his second visit; but he came to be -disappointed in his hopes of what the last would produce. His -medicines had failed; the fever was unabated; and Marianne only more -quiet--not more herself--remained in a heavy stupor. Elinor, catching -all, and more than all, his fears in a moment, proposed to call in -further advice. But he judged it unnecessary: he had still something -more to try, some more fresh application, of whose success he was as -confident as the last, and his visit concluded with encouraging -assurances which reached the ear, but could not enter the heart of -Miss Dashwood. She was calm, except when she thought of her mother; -but she was almost hopeless; and in this state she continued till -noon, scarcely stirring from her sister's bed, her thoughts wandering -from one image of grief, one suffering friend to another, and her -spirits oppressed to the utmost by the conversation of Mrs. Jennings, -who scrupled not to attribute the severity and danger of this attack -to the many weeks of previous indisposition which Marianne's -disappointment had brought on. Elinor felt all the reasonableness of -the idea, and it gave fresh misery to her reflections. - -About noon, however, she began--but with a caution--a dread of -disappointment which for some time kept her silent, even to her -friend--to fancy, to hope she could perceive a slight amendment in her -sister's pulse; she waited, watched, and examined it again and again; -and at last, with an agitation more difficult to bury under exterior -calmness, than all her foregoing distress, ventured to communicate her -hopes. Mrs. Jennings, though forced, on examination, to acknowledge a -temporary revival, tried to keep her young friend from indulging a -thought of its continuance; and Elinor, conning over every injunction -of distrust, told herself likewise not to hope. But it was too late. -Hope had already entered; and feeling all its anxious flutter, she -bent over her sister to watch--she hardly knew for what. Half an hour -passed away, and the favourable symptom yet blessed her. Others even -arose to confirm it. Her breath, her skin, her lips, all flattered -Elinor with signs of amendment; and Marianne fixed her eyes on her -with a rational, though languid, gaze. Anxiety and hope now oppressed -her in equal degrees, and left her no moment of tranquillity till the -arrival of Mr. Harris at four o'clock; when his assurances, his -felicitations on a recovery in her sister even surpassing his -expectation, gave her confidence, comfort, and tears of joy. - -Marianne was in every respect materially better, and he declared her -entirely out of danger. Mrs. Jennings, perhaps satisfied with the -partial justification of her forebodings which had been found in their -late alarm, allowed herself to trust in his judgment, and admitted, -with unfeigned joy, and soon with unequivocal cheerfulness, the -probability of an entire recovery. - -Elinor could not be cheerful. Her joy was of a different kind, and led -to any thing rather than to gaiety. Marianne restored to life, health, -friends, and to her doting mother, was an idea to fill her heart with -sensations of exquisite comfort, and expand it in fervent -gratitude;--but it lead to no outward demonstrations of joy, no words, -no smiles. All within Elinor's breast was satisfaction, silent and -strong. - -She continued by the side of her sister, with little intermission the -whole afternoon, calming every fear, satisfying every inquiry of her -enfeebled spirits, supplying every succour, and watching almost every -look and every breath. The possibility of a relapse would of course, -in some moments, occur to remind her of what anxiety was; but when she -saw, on her frequent and minute examination, that every symptom of -recovery continued, and saw Marianne at six o'clock sink into a quiet, -steady, and to all appearance comfortable, sleep, she silenced every -doubt. - -The time was now drawing on, when Colonel Brandon might be expected -back. At ten o'clock, she trusted, or at least not much later her -mother would be relieved from the dreadful suspense in which she must -now be travelling towards them. The Colonel, too!--perhaps scarcely -less an object of pity! Oh! how slow was the progress of time which -yet kept them in ignorance! - -At seven o'clock, leaving Marianne still sweetly asleep, she joined -Mrs. Jennings in the drawing-room to tea. Of breakfast she had been -kept by her fears, and of dinner by their sudden reverse, from eating -much; and the present refreshment, therefore, with such feelings of -content as she brought to it, was particularly welcome. Mrs. Jennings -would have persuaded her, at its conclusion, to take some rest before -her mother's arrival, and allow _her_ to take her place by Marianne; -but Elinor had no sense of fatigue, no capability of sleep at that -moment about her, and she was not to be kept away from her sister an -unnecessary instant. Mrs. Jennings therefore attending her up stairs -into the sick chamber, to satisfy herself that all continued right, -left her there again to her charge and her thoughts, and retired to -her own room to write letters and sleep. - -The night was cold and stormy. The wind roared round the house, and -the rain beat against the windows; but Elinor, all happiness within, -regarded it not. Marianne slept through every blast; and the -travellers, they had a rich reward in store, for every present -inconvenience. - -The clock struck eight. Had it been ten, Elinor would have been -convinced that at that moment she heard a carriage driving up to the -house; and so strong was the persuasion that she _did_, in spite of -the _almost_ impossibility of their being already come, that she moved -into the adjoining dressing-closet and opened a window shutter, to be -satisfied of the truth. She instantly saw that her ears had not -deceived her. The flaring lamps of a carriage were immediately in -view. By their uncertain light she thought she could discern it to be -drawn by four horses; and this, while it told the excess of her poor -mother's alarm, gave some explanation to such unexpected rapidity. - -Never in her life had Elinor found it so difficult to be calm, as at -that moment. The knowledge of what her mother must be feeling as the -carriage stopped the door,--of her doubt--her dread,--perhaps her -despair!--and of what _she_ had to tell! with such knowledge it was -impossible to be calm. All that remained to be done was to be speedy; -and, therefore staying only till she could leave Mrs. Jennings's maid -with her sister, she hurried down stairs. - -The bustle in the vestibule, as she passed along an inner lobby, -assured her that they were already in the house. She rushed to the -drawing-room,--she entered it,--and saw only Willoughby. - -[Illustration: _Opened a window-shutter._] - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV - - -Elinor, starting back with a look of horror at the sight of him, -obeyed the first impulse of her heart in turning instantly to quit the -room, and her hand was already on the lock, when its action was -suspended by his hastily advancing, and saying, in a voice rather of -command than supplication-- - -"Miss Dashwood, for half an hour--for ten minutes--I entreat you to -stay." - -"No, sir," she replied with firmness, "I shall _not_ stay. Your -business cannot be with _me._ The servants, I suppose, forgot to tell -you that Mr. Palmer was not in the house." - -"Had they told me," he cried with vehemence, "that Mr. Palmer and all -his relations were at the devil, it would not have turned me from the -door. My business is with you, and only you." - -"With me!"--in the utmost amazement;--"well, sir--be quick--and if you -can--less violent." - -"Sit down, and I will be both." - -She hesitated; she knew not what to do. The possibility of Colonel -Brandon's arriving and finding her there, came across her. But she had -promised to hear him, and her curiosity no less than her honor was -engaged. After a moment's recollection, therefore, concluding that -prudence required dispatch, and that her acquiescence would best -promote it, she walked silently towards the table, and sat down. He -took the opposite chair, and for half a minute not a word was said by -either. - -"Pray be quick, sir," said Elinor, impatiently; "I have no time to -spare." - -He was sitting in an attitude of deep meditation, and seemed not to -hear her. - -"Your sister," said he, with abruptness, a moment afterwards--"is out -of danger. I heard it from the servant. God be praised!--But is it -true? is it really true?" - -Elinor would not speak. He repeated the inquiry with yet greater -eagerness. - -"For God's sake tell me, is she out of danger, or is she not?" - -[Illustration: "_I entreat you to stay._"] - -"We hope she is." - -He rose up, and walked across the room. - -"Had I known as much half an hour ago--But since I _am_ -here,"--speaking with a forced vivacity as he returned to his -seat,--"what does it signify?--For once, Miss Dashwood--it will be the -last time, perhaps--let us be cheerful together. I am in a fine mood -for gaiety. Tell me honestly,"--a deeper glow overspreading his -cheeks, "do you think me most a knave or a fool?" - -Elinor looked at him with greater astonishment than ever. She began to -think that he must be in liquor;--the strangeness of such a visit, and -of such manners, seemed no otherwise intelligible; and with this -impression she immediately rose, saying-- - -"Mr. Willoughby, I advise you at present to return to Combe--I am not -at leisure to remain with you longer. Whatever your business may be -with me, it will be better recollected and explained to-morrow." - -"I understand you," he replied, with an expressive smile, and a voice -perfectly calm; "yes, I am very drunk. A pint of porter with my cold -beef at Marlborough was enough to over-set me." - -"At Marlborough!"--cried Elinor, more and more at a loss to understand -what he would be at. - -"Yes,--I left London this morning at eight o'clock, and the only ten -minutes I have spent out of my chaise since that time procured me a -nuncheon at Marlborough." - -The steadiness of his manner, and the intelligence of his eye as he -spoke, convincing Elinor, that whatever other unpardonable folly might -bring him to Cleveland, he was not brought there by intoxication, she -said, after a moment's recollection-- - -"Mr. Willoughby, you _ought_ to feel, and I certainly _do_, that after -what has passed--your coming here in this manner, and forcing yourself -upon my notice, requires a very particular excuse. What is it, that -you mean by it?"-- - -"I mean,"--said he, with serious energy--"if I can, to make you hate -me one degree less than you do _now._ I mean to offer some kind of -explanation, some kind of apology, for the past; to open my whole -heart to you, and by convincing you, that though I have been always a -blockhead, I have not been always a rascal, to obtain something like -forgiveness from Ma----, from your sister." - -"Is this the real reason of your coming?" - -"Upon my soul it is," was his answer, with a warmth which brought all -the former Willoughby to her remembrance, and in spite of herself made -her think him sincere. - -"If that is all, you may be satisfied already; for Marianne _does_, -she has _long_ forgiven you." - -"Has she?" he cried, in the same eager tone. "Then she has forgiven me -before she ought to have done it. But she shall forgive me again, and -on more reasonable grounds. _Now_ will you listen to me?" - -Elinor bowed her assent. - -"I do not know," said he, after a pause of expectation on her side, -and thoughtfulness on his own, "how _you_ may have accounted for my -behaviour to your sister, or what diabolical motive you may have -imputed to me. Perhaps you will hardly think the better of me,--it is -worth the trial however, and you shall hear every thing. When I first -became intimate in your family, I had no other intention, no other -view in the acquaintance than to pass my time pleasantly while I was -obliged to remain in Devonshire, more pleasantly than I had ever done -before. Your sister's lovely person and interesting manners could not -but please me; and her behaviour to me almost from the first, was of a -kind--It is astonishing, when I reflect on what it was, and what _she_ -was, that my heart should have been so insensible! But at first I must -confess, my vanity only was elevated by it. Careless of her happiness, -thinking only of my own amusement, giving way to feelings which I had -always been too much in the habit of indulging, I endeavoured, by -every means in my power, to make myself pleasing to her, without any -design of returning her affection." - -Miss Dashwood, at this point, turning her eyes on him with the most -angry contempt, stopped him, by saying-- - -"It is hardly worth while, Mr. Willoughby, for you to relate, or for -me to listen any longer. Such a beginning as this cannot be followed -by any thing. Do not let me be pained by hearing any thing more on the -subject." - -"I insist on you hearing the whole of it," he replied, "My fortune was -never large, and I had always been expensive, always in the habit of -associating with people of better income than myself. Every year -since my coming of age, or even before, I believe, had added to my -debts; and though the death of my old cousin, Mrs. Smith, was to set -me free; yet that event being uncertain, and possibly far distant, it -had been for some time my intention to re-establish my circumstances -by marrying a woman of fortune. To attach myself to your sister, -therefore, was not a thing to be thought of; and with a meanness, -selfishness, cruelty, which no indignant, no contemptuous look, even -of yours, Miss Dashwood, can ever reprobate too much,--I was acting in -this manner, trying to engage her regard, without a thought of -returning it. But one thing may be said for me: even in that horrid -state of selfish vanity, I did not know the extent of the injury I -meditated, because I did not _then_ know what it was to love. But have -I ever known it? Well may it be doubted; for, had I really loved, -could I have sacrificed my feelings to vanity, to avarice? or, what is -more, could I have sacrificed hers? But I have done it. To avoid a -comparative poverty, which her affection and her society would have -deprived of all its horrors, I have, by raising myself to affluence, -lost every thing that could make it a blessing." - -"You did then," said Elinor, a little softened, "believe yourself at -one time attached to her?" - -"To have resisted such attractions, to have withstood such tenderness! -Is there a man on earth who could have done it? Yes, I found myself, -by insensible degrees, sincerely fond of her; and the happiest hours -of my life were what I spent with her when I felt my intentions were -strictly honourable, and my feelings blameless. Even _then_, however, -when fully determined on paying my addresses to her, I allowed myself -most improperly to put off, from day to day, the moment of doing it, -from an unwillingness to enter into an engagement while my -circumstances were so greatly embarrassed. I will not reason here--nor -will I stop for _you_ to expatiate on the absurdity, and the worse -than absurdity, of scrupling to engage my faith where my honour was -already bound. The event has proved, that I was a cunning fool, -providing with great circumspection for a possible opportunity of -making myself contemptible and wretched for ever. At last, however, my -resolution was taken, and I had determined, as soon as I could engage -her alone, to justify the attentions I had so invariably paid her, and -openly assure her of an affection which I had already taken such pains -to display. But in the interim--in the interim of the very few hours -that were to pass, before I could have an opportunity of speaking with -her in private--a circumstance occurred--an unlucky circumstance--to -ruin all my resolution, and with it all my comfort. A discovery took -place,"--here he hesitated and looked down. "Mrs. Smith had somehow or -other been informed, I imagine by some distant relation, whose -interest it was to deprive me of her favour, of an affair, a -connection--but I need not explain myself farther," he added, looking -at her with an heightened colour and an enquiring eye,--"your -particular intimacy--you have probably heard the whole story long -ago." - -"I have," returned Elinor, colouring likewise, and hardening her heart -anew against any compassion for him, "I have heard it all. And how you -will explain away any part of your guilt in that dreadful business, I -confess is beyond my comprehension." - -"Remember," cried Willoughby, "from whom you received the account. -Could it be an impartial one? I acknowledge that her situation and her -character ought to have been respected by me. I do not mean to justify -myself, but at the same time cannot leave you to suppose that I have -nothing to urge--that because she was injured she was irreproachable, -and because _I_ was a libertine, _she_ must be a saint. If the -violence of her passions, the weakness of her understanding--I do not -mean, however, to defend myself. Her affection for me deserved better -treatment, and I often, with great self-reproach, recall the -tenderness which, for a very short time, had the power of creating any -return. I wish--I heartily wish it had never been. But I have injured -more than herself; and I have injured one, whose affection for -me--(may I say it?) was scarcely less warm than hers; and whose -mind--Oh! how infinitely superior!" - -"Your indifference, however, towards that unfortunate girl--I must say -it, unpleasant to me as the discussion of such a subject may well -be--your indifference is no apology for your cruel neglect of her. Do -not think yourself excused by any weakness, any natural defect of -understanding on her side, in the wanton cruelty so evident on yours. -You must have known, that while you were enjoying yourself in -Devonshire pursuing fresh schemes, always gay, always happy, she was -reduced to the extremest indigence." - -"But, upon my soul, I did _not_ know it," he warmly replied; "I did -not recollect that I had omitted to give her my direction; and common -sense might have told her how to find it out." - -"Well, sir, and what said Mrs. Smith?" - -"She taxed me with the offence at once, and my confusion may be -guessed. The purity of her life, the formality of her notions, her -ignorance of the world,--every thing was against me. The matter itself -I could not deny, and vain was every endeavour to soften it. She was -previously disposed, I believe, to doubt the morality of my conduct in -general, and was moreover discontented with the very little attention, -the very little portion of my time that I had bestowed on her, in my -present visit. In short, it ended in a total breach. By one measure I -might have saved myself. In the height of her morality, good woman! -she offered to forgive the past, if I would marry Eliza. That could -not be; and I was formally dismissed from her favour and her house. -The night following this affair--I was to go the next morning--was -spent by me in deliberating on what my future conduct should be. The -struggle was great, but it ended too soon. My affection for Marianne, -my thorough conviction of her attachment to me--it was all -insufficient to outweigh that dread of poverty, or get the better of -those false ideas of the necessity of riches, which I was naturally -inclined to feel, and expensive society had increased. I had reason to -believe myself secure of my present wife, if I chose to address her, -and I persuaded myself to think that nothing else in common prudence -remained for me to do. A heavy scene however awaited me, before I -could leave Devonshire: I was engaged to dine with you on that very -day; some apology was therefore necessary for my breaking this -engagement. But whether I should write this apology, or deliver it in -person, was a point of long debate. To see Marianne, I felt, would be -dreadful, and I even doubted whether I could see her again, and keep -to my resolution. In that point, however, I undervalued my own -magnanimity, as the event declared; for I went, I saw her, and saw her -miserable, and left her miserable;--and left her hoping never to see -her again." - -"Why did you call, Mr. Willoughby?" said Elinor, reproachfully; "a -note would have answered every purpose. Why was it necessary to -call?" - -[Illustration: "_I was formally dismissed._"] - -"It was necessary to my own pride. I could not bear to leave the -country in a manner that might lead you, or the rest of the -neighbourhood, to suspect any part of what had really passed between -Mrs. Smith and myself, and I resolved therefore on calling at the -cottage, in my way to Honiton. The sight of your dear sister, however, -was really dreadful; and, to heighten the matter, I found her alone. -You were all gone I do not know where. I had left her only the evening -before, so fully, so firmly resolved within my self on doing right! A -few hours were to have engaged her to me for ever; and I remember how -happy, how gay were my spirits, as I walked from the cottage to -Allenham, satisfied with myself, delighted with every body! But in -this, our last interview of friendship, I approached her with a sense -of guilt that almost took from me the power of dissembling. Her -sorrow, her disappointment, her deep regret, when I told her that I -was obliged to leave Devonshire so immediately--I never shall forget -it--united too with such reliance, such confidence in me! Oh, God! -what a hard-hearted rascal I was!" - -They were both silent for a few moments. Elinor first spoke. - -"Did you tell her that you should soon return?" - -"I do not know what I told her," he replied, impatiently; "less than -was due to the past, beyond a doubt, and in all likelihood much more -than was justified by the future. I cannot think of it. It won't do. -Then came your dear mother to torture me farther, with all her -kindness and confidence. Thank Heaven! it _did_ torture me. I was -miserable. Miss Dashwood, you cannot have an idea of the comfort it -gives me to look back on my own misery. I owe such a grudge to myself -for the stupid, rascally folly of my own heart, that all my past -sufferings under it are only triumph and exultation to me now. Well, I -went, left all that I loved, and went to those to whom, at best, I was -only indifferent. My journey to town--travelling with my own horses, -and therefore so tediously--no creature to speak to--my own -reflections so cheerful--when I looked forward every thing so -inviting!--when I looked back at Barton, the picture so soothing!--oh, -it was a blessed journey!" - -He stopped. - -"Well, sir," said Elinor, who, though pitying him, grew impatient for -his departure, "and this is all?" - -"Ah!--no,--have you forgot what passed in town? That infamous letter? -Did she show it you?" - -"Yes, I saw every note that passed." - -"When the first of hers reached me (as it immediately did, for I was -in town the whole time,) what I felt is, in the common phrase, not to -be expressed; in a more simple one--perhaps too simple to raise any -emotion, my feelings were very, very painful. Every line, every word -was--in the hackneyed metaphor which their dear writer, were she here, -would forbid--a dagger to my heart. To know that Marianne was in town -was, in the same language, a thunderbolt. Thunderbolts and daggers! -what a reproof would she have given me! her taste, her opinions--I -believe they are better known to me than my own, and I am sure they -are dearer." - -Elinor's heart, which had undergone many changes in the course of this -extraordinary conversation, was now softened again;--yet she felt it -her duty to check such ideas in her companion as the last. - -"This is not right, Mr. Willoughby. Remember that you are married. -Relate only what in your conscience you think necessary for me to -hear." - -"Marianne's note, by assuring me that I was still as dear to her as in -former days, that in spite of the many, many weeks we had been -separated, she was as constant in her own feelings, and as full of -faith in the constancy of mine as ever, awakened all my remorse. I say -awakened, because time and London, business and dissipation, had in -some measure quieted it, and I had been growing a fine hardened -villain, fancying myself indifferent to her, and choosing to fancy -that she too must have become indifferent to me; talking to myself of -our past attachment as a mere idle, trifling business, shrugging up my -shoulders in proof of its being so, and silencing every reproach, -overcoming every scruple, by secretly saying now and then, 'I shall be -heartily glad to hear she is well married.' But this note made me know -myself better. I felt that she was infinitely dearer to me than any -other woman in the world, and that I was using her infamously. But -every thing was then just settled between Miss Grey and me. To retreat -was impossible. All that I had to do, was to avoid you both. I sent no -answer to Marianne, intending by that to preserve myself from her -farther notice; and for some time I was even determined not to call -in Berkeley Street; but at last, judging it wiser to affect the air of -a cool, common acquaintance than anything else, I watched you all -safely out of the house one morning, and left my name." - -"Watched us out of the house!" - -"Even so. You would be surprised to hear how often I watched you, how -often I was on the point of falling in with you. I have entered many a -shop to avoid your sight, as the carriage drove by. Lodging as I did -in Bond Street, there was hardly a day in which I did not catch a -glimpse of one or other of you; and nothing but the most constant -watchfulness on my side, a most invariably prevailing desire to keep -out of your sight, could have separated us so long. I avoided the -Middletons as much as possible, as well as everybody else who was -likely to prove an acquaintance in common. Not aware of their being in -town, however, I blundered on Sir John, I believe, the first day of -his coming, and the day after I had called at Mrs. Jennings's. He -asked me to a party, a dance at his house in the evening. Had he _not_ -told me as an inducement that you and your sister were to be there, I -should have felt it too certain a thing, to trust myself near him. The -next morning brought another short note from Marianne--still -affectionate, open, artless, confiding--everything that could make -_my_ conduct most hateful. I could not answer it. I tried--but could -not frame a sentence. But I thought of her, I believe, every moment of -the day. If you _can_ pity me, Miss Dashwood, pity my situation as it -was _then._ With my head and heart full of your sister, I was forced -to play the happy lover to another woman! Those three or four weeks -were worse than all. Well, at last, as I need not tell you, you were -forced on me; and what a sweet figure I cut! what an evening of agony -it was! Marianne, beautiful as an angel on one side, calling me -Willoughby in such a tone! Oh, God! holding out her hand to me, asking -me for an explanation, with those bewitching eyes fixed in such -speaking solicitude on my face! and Sophia, jealous as the devil on -the other hand, looking all that was--Well, it does not signify; it is -over now. Such an evening! I ran away from you all as soon as I could; -but not before I had seen Marianne's sweet face as white as death. -_That_ was the last, last look I ever had of her; the last manner in -which she appeared to me. It was a horrid sight! yet when I thought -of her to-day as really dying, it was a kind of comfort to me to -imagine that I knew exactly how she would appear to those, who saw her -last in this world. She was before me, constantly before me, as I -travelled, in the same look and hue." - -[Illustration: "_I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight._"] - -A short pause of mutual thoughtfulness succeeded. Willoughby first -rousing himself, broke it thus: - -"Well, let me make haste and be gone. Your sister is certainly better, -certainly out of danger?" - -"We are assured of it." - -"Your poor mother, too!--doting on Marianne." - -"But the letter, Mr. Willoughby, your own letter; have you any thing -to say about that?" - -"Yes, yes, _that_ in particular. Your sister wrote to me again, you -know, the very next morning. You saw what she said. I was breakfasting -at the Ellisons,--and her letter, with some others, was brought to me -there from my lodgings. It happened to catch Sophia's eye before it -caught mine;--and its size, the elegance of the paper, the hand-writing -altogether, immediately gave her a suspicion. Some vague report had -reached her before of my attachment to some young lady in Devonshire, -and what had passed within her observation the preceding evening had -marked who the young lady was, and made her more jealous than ever. -Affecting that air of playfulness, therefore, which is delightful in a -woman one loves, she opened the letter directly, and read its contents. -She was well paid for her impudence. She read what made her wretched. -Her wretchedness I could have borne, but her passion--her malice--at all -events it must be appeased. And, in short, what do you think of my -wife's style of letter-writing?--delicate--tender--truly feminine--was -it not?" - -"Your wife! The letter was in your own hand-writing." - -"Yes, but I had only the credit of servilely copying such sentences as -I was ashamed to put my name to. The original was all her own--her own -happy thoughts and gentle diction. But what could I do! we were -engaged, every thing in preparation, the day almost fixed--but I am -talking like a fool. Preparation! Day! In honest words, her money was -necessary to me, and in a situation like mine, any thing was to be -done to prevent a rupture. And after all, what did it signify to my -character in the opinion of Marianne and her friends, in what -language my answer was couched? It must have been only to one end. My -business was to declare myself a scoundrel, and whether I did it with -a bow or a bluster was of little importance. 'I am ruined for ever in -their opinion,' said I to myself; 'I am shut out for ever from their -society, they already think me an unprincipled fellow, this letter -will only make them think me a blackguard one.' Such were my -reasonings, as, in a sort of desperate carelessness, I copied my -wife's words, and parted with the last relics of Marianne. Her three -notes--unluckily they were all in my pocket-book, or I should have -denied their existence, and hoarded them for ever--I was forced to put -them up, and could not even kiss them. And the lock of hair--that too -I had always carried about me in the same pocket-book, which was now -searched by Madam with the most ingratiating virulence,--the dear -lock--all, every memento was torn from me." - -"You are very wrong, Mr. Willoughby, very blamable," said Elinor, -while her voice, in spite of herself, betrayed her compassionate -emotion; "you ought not to speak in this way, either of Mrs. -Willoughby or my sister. You had made your own choice. It was not -forced on you. Your wife has a claim to your politeness, to your -respect, at least. She must be attached to you, or she would not have -married you. To treat her with unkindness, to speak of her slightingly -is no atonement to Marianne--nor can I suppose it a relief to your own -conscience." - -"Do not talk to me of my wife," said he with a heavy sigh. "She does -not deserve your compassion. She knew I had no regard for her when we -married. Well, married we were, and came down to Combe Magna to be -happy, and afterwards returned to town to be gay. And now do you pity -me, Miss Dashwood? or have I said all this to no purpose? Am I,--be -it only one degree,--am I less guilty in your opinion than I was -before? My intentions were not always wrong. Have I explained away any -part of my guilt?" - -"Yes, you have certainly removed something--a little. You have proved -yourself, on the whole, less faulty than I had believed you. You have -proved your heart less wicked, much less wicked. But I hardly -know--the misery that you have inflicted--I hardly know what could -have made it worse." - -"Will you repeat to your sister when she is recovered, what I have -been telling you?--Let me be a little lightened too in her opinion as -well as in yours. You tell me that she has forgiven me already. Let me -be able to fancy that a better knowledge of my heart, and of my -present feelings, will draw from her a more spontaneous, more natural, -more gentle, less dignified, forgiveness. Tell her of my misery and my -penitence--tell her that my heart was never inconstant to her, and if -you will, that at this moment she is dearer to me than ever." - -"I will tell her all that is necessary to what may comparatively be -called, your justification. But you have not explained to me the -particular reason of your coming now, nor how you heard of her -illness." - -"Last night, in Drury Lane lobby, I ran against Sir John Middleton, -and when he saw who I was, for the first time these two months--he -spoke to me. That he had cut me ever since my marriage, I had seen -without surprise or resentment. Now, however, his good-natured, -honest, stupid soul, full of indignation against me, and concern for -your sister, could not resist the temptation of telling me what he -knew ought to, though probably he did not think it _would_, vex me -horridly. As bluntly as he could speak it, therefore, he told me that -Marianne Dashwood was dying of a putrid fever at Cleveland--a letter -that morning received from Mrs. Jennings declared her danger most -imminent--the Palmers are all gone off in a fright, &c. I was too much -shocked to be able to pass myself off as insensible even to the -undiscerning Sir John. His heart was softened in seeing mine suffer; -and so much of his ill-will was done away, that when we parted, he -almost shook me by the hand while he reminded me of an old promise -about a pointer puppy. What I felt on hearing that your sister was -dying, and dying too, believing me the greatest villain upon earth, -scorning, hating me in her latest moments--for how could I tell what -horrid projects might not have been imputed? _One_ person I was sure -would represent me as capable of any thing. What I felt was dreadful! -My resolution was soon made, and at eight o'clock this morning I was -in my carriage. Now you know all." - -Elinor made no answer. Her thoughts were silently fixed on the -irreparable injury which too early an independence and its consequent -habits of idleness, dissipation, and luxury, had made in the mind, the -character, the happiness, of a man who, to every advantage of person -and talents, united a disposition naturally open and honest, and a -feeling, affectionate temper. The world had made him extravagant and -vain--Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish. -Vanity, while seeking its own guilty triumph at the expense of -another, had involved him in a real attachment, which extravagance, or -at least its offspring, necessity, had required to be sacrificed. Each -faulty propensity in leading him to evil, had led him likewise to -punishment. The attachment, from which against honour, against -feeling, against every better interest he had outwardly torn himself, -now, when no longer allowable, governed every thought; and the -connection, for the sake of which he had, with little scruple, left -her sister to misery, was likely to prove a source of unhappiness to -himself of a far more incurable nature. From a reverie of this kind -she was recalled at the end of some minutes by Willoughby, who, -rousing himself from a reverie at least equally painful, started up in -preparation for going, and said-- - -"There is no use in staying here; I must be off." - -"Are you going back to town?" - -"No--to Combe Magna. I have business there; from thence to town in a -day or two. Good bye." - -He held out his hand. She could not refuse to give him hers;--he -pressed it with affection. - -"And you _do_ think something better of me than you did?"--said he, -letting it fall, and leaning against the mantelpiece as if forgetting -he was to go. - -Elinor assured him that she did;--that she forgave, pitied, wished him -well--was even interested in his happiness--and added some gentle -counsel as to the behaviour most likely to promote it. His answer was -not very encouraging. - -"As to that," said he, "I must rub through the world as well as I can. -Domestic happiness is out of the question. If, however, I am allowed -to think that you and yours feel an interest in my fate and actions, -it may be the means--it may put me on my guard--at least, it may be -something to live for. Marianne to be sure is lost to me for ever. -Were I even by any blessed chance at liberty again--" - -Elinor stopped him with a reproof. - -"Well,"--he replied--"once more good bye. I shall now go away and live -in dread of one event." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Your sister's marriage." - -"You are very wrong. She can never be more lost to you than she is -now." - -"But she will be gained by some one else. And if that some one should -be the very he whom, of all others, I could least bear--but I will not -stay to rob myself of all your compassionate good-will, by showing that -where I have most injured I can least forgive. Good bye,--God bless -you!" - -And with these words, he almost ran out of the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV - - -Elinor, for some time after he left her, for some time even after the -sound of his carriage had died away, remained too much oppressed by a -crowd of ideas, widely differing in themselves, but of which sadness -was the general result, to think even of her sister. - -Willoughby, he, whom only half an hour ago she had abhorred as the -most worthless of men, Willoughby, in spite of all his faults, excited -a degree of commiseration for the sufferings produced by them, which -made her think of him as now separated for ever from her family, with -a tenderness, a regret, rather in proportion, as she soon acknowledged -within herself--to his wishes than to his merits. She felt that his -influence over her mind was heightened by circumstances which ought -not in reason to have weight; by that person of uncommon attraction, -that open, affectionate, and lively manner which it was no merit to -possess; and by that still ardent love for Marianne, which it was not -even innocent to indulge. But she felt that it was so, long, long -before she could feel his influence less. - -When at last she returned to the unconscious Marianne, she found her -just awaking, refreshed by so long and sweet a sleep to the extent of -her hopes. Elinor's heart was full. The past, the present, the future, -Willoughby's visit, Marianne's safety, and her mother's expected -arrival, threw her altogether into an agitation of spirits which kept -off every indication of fatigue, and made her only fearful of -betraying herself to her sister. Short was the time, however, in which -that fear could affect her, for within half an hour after Willoughby's -leaving the house, she was again called down stairs by the sound of -another carriage. Eager to save her mother from every unnecessary -moment's horrible suspense, she ran immediately into the hall, and -reached the outward door just in time to receive and support her as -she entered it. - -Mrs. Dashwood, whose terror as they drew near the house had produced -almost the conviction of Marianne's being no more, had no voice to -inquire after her, no voice even for Elinor; but _she_, waiting -neither for salutation nor inquiry, instantly gave the joyful relief; -and her mother, catching it with all her usual warmth, was in a moment -as much overcome by her happiness, as she had been before by her -fears. She was supported into the drawing-room between her daughter -and her friend; and there, shedding tears of joy, though still unable -to speak, embraced Elinor again and again, turning from her at -intervals to press Colonel Brandon's hand, with a look which spoke at -once her gratitude, and her conviction of his sharing with herself in -the bliss of the moment. He shared it, however, in a silence even -greater than her own. - -As soon as Mrs. Dashwood had recovered herself, to see Marianne was -her first desire; and in two minutes she was with her beloved child, -rendered dearer to her than ever by absence, unhappiness, and danger. -Elinor's delight, as she saw what each felt in the meeting, was only -checked by an apprehension of its robbing Marianne of farther -sleep;--but Mrs. Dashwood could be calm, could be even prudent, when -the life of a child was at stake, and Marianne, satisfied in knowing -her mother was near her, and conscious of being too weak for -conversation, submitted readily to the silence and quiet prescribed by -every nurse around her. Mrs. Dashwood _would_ sit up with her all -night; and Elinor, in compliance with her mother's entreaty, went to -bed. But the rest, which one night entirely sleepless, and many hours -of the most wearing anxiety seemed to make requisite, was kept off by -irritation of spirits. Willoughby, "poor Willoughby," as she now -allowed herself to call him, was constantly in her thoughts; she would -not but have heard his vindication for the world, and now blamed, now -acquitted herself for having judged him so harshly before. But her -promise of relating it to her sister was invariably painful. She -dreaded the performance of it, dreaded what its effect on Marianne -might be; doubted whether after such an explanation she could ever be -happy with another; and for a moment wished Willoughby a widower. -Then, remembering Colonel Brandon, reproved herself, felt that to -_his_ sufferings and _his_ constancy far more than to his rival's, the -reward of her sister was due, and wished any thing rather than Mrs. -Willoughby's death. - -The shock of Colonel Brandon's errand at Barton had been much softened -to Mrs. Dashwood by her own previous alarm; for so great was her -uneasiness about Marianne, that she had already determined to set out -for Cleveland on that very day, without waiting for any further -intelligence, and had so far settled her journey before his arrival, -that the Careys were then expected every moment to fetch Margaret -away, as her mother was unwilling to take her where there might be -infection. - -Marianne continued to mend every day, and the brilliant cheerfulness -of Mrs. Dashwood's looks and spirits proved her to be, as she -repeatedly declared herself, one of the happiest women in the world. -Elinor could not hear the declaration, nor witness its proofs without -sometimes wondering whether her mother ever recollected Edward. But -Mrs. Dashwood, trusting to the temperate account of her own -disappointment which Elinor had sent her, was led away by the -exuberance of her joy to think only of what would increase it. -Marianne was restored to her from a danger in which, as she now began -to feel, her own mistaken judgment in encouraging the unfortunate -attachment to Willoughby, had contributed to place her; and in her -recovery she had yet another source of joy unthought of by Elinor. It -was thus imparted to her, as soon as any opportunity of private -conference between them occurred. - -"At last we are alone. My Elinor, you do not yet know all my -happiness. Colonel Brandon loves Marianne. He has told me so himself." - -Her daughter, feeling by turns both pleased and pained, surprised and -not surprised, was all silent attention. - -"You are never like me, dear Elinor, or I should wonder at your -composure now. Had I sat down to wish for any possible good to my -family, I should have fixed on Colonel Brandon's marrying one of you -as the object most desirable. And I believe Marianne will be the most -happy with him of the two." - -Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, because -satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their -age, characters, or feelings, could be given;--but her mother must -always be carried away by her imagination on any interesting subject, -and therefore instead of an inquiry, she passed it off with a smile. - -"He opened his whole heart to me yesterday as we travelled. It came -out quite unawares, quite undesignedly. I, you may well believe, could -talk of nothing but my child;--he could not conceal his distress; I -saw that it equalled my own, and he perhaps, thinking that mere -friendship, as the world now goes, would not justify so warm a -sympathy--or rather, not thinking at all, I suppose--giving way to -irresistible feelings, made me acquainted with his earnest, tender, -constant, affection for Marianne. He has loved her, my Elinor, ever -since the first moment of seeing her." - -Here, however, Elinor perceived,--not the language, not the -professions of Colonel Brandon, but the natural embellishments of her -mother's active fancy, which fashioned every thing delightful to her -as it chose. - -"His regard for her, infinitely surpassing anything that Willoughby -ever felt or feigned, as much more warm, as more sincere or constant, -which ever we are to call it, has subsisted through all the knowledge -of dear Marianne's unhappy prepossession for that worthless young man! -and without selfishness, without encouraging a hope! could he have -seen her happy with another. Such a noble mind! such openness, such -sincerity! No one can be deceived in _him._" - -"Colonel Brandon's character," said Elinor, "as an excellent man, is -well established." - -"I know it is," replied her mother seriously, "or after such a -warning, I should be the last to encourage such affection, or even to -be pleased by it. But his coming for me as he did, with such active, -such ready friendship, is enough to prove him one of the worthiest of -men." - -"His character, however," answered Elinor, "does not rest on _one_ act -of kindness, to which his affection for Marianne, were humanity out of -the case, would have prompted him. To Mrs. Jennings, to the -Middletons, he has been long and intimately known; they equally love -and respect him; and even my own knowledge of him, though lately -acquired, is very considerable; and so highly do I value and esteem -him, that if Marianne can be happy with him, I shall be as ready as -yourself to think our connection the greatest blessing to us in the -world. What answer did you give him? Did you allow him to hope?" - -"Oh! my love, I could not then talk of hope to him or to myself. -Marianne might at that moment be dying. But he did not ask for hope or -encouragement. His was an involuntary confidence, an irrepressible -effusion to a soothing friend, not an application to a parent. Yet -after a time I _did_ say, for at first I was quite overcome, that if -she lived, as I trusted she might, my greatest happiness would lie in -promoting their marriage; and since our arrival, since our delightful -security, I have repeated it to him more fully, have given him every -encouragement in my power. Time, a very little time, I tell him, will -do everything; Marianne's heart is not to be wasted for ever on such a -man as Willoughby. His own merits must soon secure it." - -"To judge from the Colonel's spirits, however, you have not yet made -him equally sanguine." - -"No. He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply rooted for any change -in it under a great length of time, and even supposing her heart again -free, is too diffident of himself to believe, that with such a -difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her. There, -however, he is quite mistaken. His age is only so much beyond hers as -to be an advantage, as to make his character and principles -fixed;--and his disposition, I am well convinced, is exactly the very -one to make your sister happy. And his person, his manners too, are -all in his favour. My partiality does not blind me; he certainly is -not so handsome as Willoughby--but at the same time, there is -something much more pleasing in his countenance. There was always a -something,--if you remember,--in Willoughby's eyes at times, which I -did not like." - -Elinor could _not_ remember it;--but her mother, without waiting for -her assent, continued-- - -"And his manners, the Colonel's manners are not only more pleasing to -me than Willoughby's ever were, but they are of a kind I well know to -be more solidly attaching to Marianne. Their gentleness, their -genuine attention to other people, and their manly unstudied -simplicity is much more accordant with her real disposition, than the -liveliness--often artificial, and often ill-timed of the other. I am -very sure myself, that had Willoughby turned out as really amiable, as -he has proved himself the contrary, Marianne would yet never have been -so happy with _him_ as she will be with Colonel Brandon." - -She paused. Her daughter could not quite agree with her, but her -dissent was not heard, and therefore gave no offence. - -"At Delaford, she will be within an easy distance of me," added Mrs. -Dashwood, "even if I remain at Barton; and in all probability,--for I -hear it is a large village,--indeed there certainly _must_ be some -small house or cottage close by, that would suit us quite as well as -our present situation." - -Poor Elinor!--here was a new scheme for getting her to Delaford!--but -her spirit was stubborn. - -"His fortune too!--for at my time of life you know, everybody cares -about _that_;--and though I neither know nor desire to know, what it -really is, I am sure it must be a good one." - -Here they were interrupted by the entrance of a third person, and -Elinor withdrew to think it all over in private, to wish success to -her friend, and yet in wishing it, to feel a pang for Willoughby. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI - - -Marianne's illness, though weakening in its kind, had not been long -enough to make her recovery slow; and with youth, natural strength, -and her mother's presence in aid, it proceeded so smoothly as to -enable her to remove, within four days after the arrival of the -latter, into Mrs. Palmer's dressing-room. When there, at her own -particular request, for she was impatient to pour forth her thanks to -him for fetching her mother, Colonel Brandon was invited to visit her. - -His emotion on entering the room, in seeing her altered looks, and in -receiving the pale hand which she immediately held out to him, was -such, as, in Elinor's conjecture, must arise from something more than -his affection for Marianne, or the consciousness of its being known to -others; and she soon discovered in his melancholy eye and varying -complexion as he looked at her sister, the probable recurrence of many -past scenes of misery to his mind, brought back by that resemblance -between Marianne and Eliza already acknowledged, and now strengthened -by the hollow eye, the sickly skin, the posture of reclining weakness, -and the warm acknowledgment of peculiar obligation. - -Mrs. Dashwood, not less watchful of what passed than her daughter, but -with a mind very differently influenced, and therefore watching to -very different effect, saw nothing in the Colonel's behaviour but what -arose from the most simple and self-evident sensations, while in the -actions and words of Marianne she persuaded herself to think that -something more than gratitude already dawned. - -At the end of another day or two, Marianne growing visibly stronger -every twelve hours, Mrs. Dashwood, urged equally by her own and her -daughter's wishes, began to talk of removing to Barton. On _her_ -measures depended those of her two friends; Mrs. Jennings could not -quit Cleveland during the Dashwoods' stay; and Colonel Brandon was -soon brought, by their united request, to consider his own abode there -as equally determinate, if not equally indispensable. At his and Mrs. -Jennings's united request in return, Mrs. Dashwood was prevailed on to -accept the use of his carriage on her journey back, for the better -accommodation of her sick child; and the Colonel, at the joint -invitation of Mrs. Dashwood and Mrs. Jennings, whose active -good-nature made her friendly and hospitable for other people as well -as herself, engaged with pleasure to redeem it by a visit at the -cottage, in the course of a few weeks. - -The day of separation and departure arrived; and Marianne, after -taking so particular and lengthened a leave of Mrs. Jennings, one so -earnestly grateful, so full of respect and kind wishes as seemed due -to her own heart from a secret acknowledgment of past inattention, and -bidding Colonel Brandon farewell with a cordiality of a friend, was -carefully assisted by him into the carriage, of which he seemed -anxious that she should engross at least half. Mrs. Dashwood and -Elinor then followed, and the others were left by themselves, to talk -of the travellers, and feel their own dullness, till Mrs. Jennings -was summoned to her chaise to take comfort in the gossip of her maid -for the loss of her two young companions; and Colonel Brandon -immediately afterwards took his solitary way to Delaford. - -The Dashwoods were two days on the road, and Marianne bore her journey -on both, without essential fatigue. Every thing that the most zealous -affection, the most solicitous care could do to render her -comfortable, was the office of each watchful companion, and each found -their reward in her bodily ease, and her calmness of spirits. To -Elinor, the observation of the latter was particularly grateful. She, -who had seen her week after week so constantly suffering, oppressed by -anguish of heart which she had neither courage to speak of, nor -fortitude to conceal, now saw with a joy, which no other could equally -share, an apparent composure of mind, which, in being the result as -she trusted of serious reflection, must eventually lead her to -contentment and cheerfulness. - -As they approached Barton, indeed, and entered on scenes of which -every field and every tree brought some peculiar, some painful -recollection, she grew silent and thoughtful, and turning away her -face from their notice, sat earnestly gazing through the window. But -here, Elinor could neither wonder nor blame; and when she saw, as she -assisted Marianne from the carriage, that she had been crying, she saw -only an emotion too natural in itself to raise any thing less tender -than pity, and in its unobtrusiveness entitled to praise. In the whole -of her subsequent manner, she traced the direction of a mind awakened -to reasonable exertion; for no sooner had they entered their common -sitting-room, than Marianne turned her eyes around it with a look of -resolute firmness, as if determined at once to accustom herself to the -sight of every object with which the remembrance of Willoughby could -be connected. She said little, but every sentence aimed at -cheerfulness, and though a sigh sometimes escaped her, it never passed -away without the atonement of a smile. After dinner she would try her -piano-forte. She went to it; but the music on which her eye first -rested was an opera, procured for her by Willoughby, containing some -of their favourite duets, and bearing on its outward leaf her own name -in his hand-writing. That would not do. She shook her head, put the -music aside, and after running over the keys for a minute, complained -of feebleness in her fingers, and closed the instrument again; -declaring however with firmness as she did so, that she should in -future practice much. - -The next morning produced no abatement in these happy symptoms. On the -contrary, with a mind and body alike strengthened by rest, she looked -and spoke with more genuine spirit, anticipating the pleasure of -Margaret's return, and talking of the dear family party which would -then be restored, of their mutual pursuits and cheerful society, as -the only happiness worth a wish. - -"When the weather is settled, and I have recovered my strength," said -she, "we will take long walks together every day. We will walk to the -farm at the edge of the down, and see how the children go on; we will -walk to Sir John's new plantations at Barton Cross, and the Abbeyland; -and we will often go the old ruins of the Priory, and try to trace its -foundations as far as we are told they once reached. I know we shall -be happy. I know the summer will pass happily away. I mean never to be -later in rising than six, and from that time till dinner I shall -divide every moment between music and reading. I have formed my plan, -and am determined to enter on a course of serious study. Our own -library is too well known to me, to be resorted to for any thing -beyond mere amusement. But there are many works well worth reading at -the Park; and there are others of more modern production which I know -I can borrow of Colonel Brandon. By reading only six hours a-day, I -shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth a great deal of instruction -which I now feel myself to want." - -Elinor honoured her for a plan which originated so nobly as this; -though smiling to see the same eager fancy which had been leading her -to the extreme of languid indolence and selfish repining, now at work -in introducing excess into a scheme of such rational employment and -virtuous self-control. Her smile however changed to a sigh when she -remembered that promise to Willoughby was yet unfulfilled, and feared -she had that to communicate which might again unsettle the mind of -Marianne, and ruin at least for a time this fair prospect of busy -tranquillity. Willing therefore to delay the evil hour, she resolved -to wait till her sister's health were more secure, before she -appointed it. But the resolution was made only to be broken. - -[Illustration: "_And see how the children go on._"] - -Marianne had been two or three days at home, before the weather was -fine enough for an invalid like herself to venture out. But at last a -soft, genial morning appeared; such as might tempt the daughter's -wishes and the mother's confidence; and Marianne, leaning on Elinor's -arm, was authorised to walk as long as she could without fatigue, in -the lane before the house. - -The sisters set out at a pace, slow as the feebleness of Marianne in -an exercise hitherto untried since her illness required;--and they had -advanced only so far beyond the house as to admit a full view of the -hill, the important hill behind, when pausing with her eyes turned -towards it, Marianne calmly said-- - -"There, exactly there,"--pointing with one hand, "on that projecting -mound,--there I fell; and there I first saw Willoughby." - -Her voice sunk with the word, but presently reviving she added, - -"I am thankful to find that I can look with so little pain on the -spot! shall we ever talk on that subject, Elinor?" hesitatingly it was -said. "Or will it be wrong? I can talk of it now, I hope, as I ought -to do." - -Elinor tenderly invited her to be open. - -"As for regret," said Marianne, "I have done with that, as far as _he_ -is concerned. I do not mean to talk to you of what my feelings have -been for him, but what they are _now._ At present, if I could be -satisfied on one point, if I could be allowed to think that he was not -_always_ acting a part, not _always_ deceiving me; but above all, if I -could be assured that he never was so _very_ wicked as my fears have -sometimes fancied him, since the story of that unfortunate girl--" - -She stopped. Elinor joyfully treasured her words as she answered-- - -"If you could be assured of that, you think you should be easy." - -"Yes. My peace of mind is doubly involved in it; for not only is it -horrible to suspect a person, who has been what _he_ has been to _me_, -of such designs, but what must it make me appear to myself? What in a -situation like mine, but a most shamefully unguarded affection could -expose me to--" - -"How then," asked her sister, "would you account for his behaviour?" - -"I would suppose him--Oh, how gladly would I suppose him!--only -fickle, very, very fickle." - -Elinor said no more. She was debating within herself on the -eligibility of beginning her story directly, or postponing it till -Marianne were in stronger health; and they crept on for a few minutes -in silence. - -"I am not wishing him too much good," said Marianne at last with a -sigh, "when I wish his secret reflections may be no more unpleasant -than my own. He will suffer enough in them." - -"Do you compare your conduct with his?" - -"No. I compare it with what it ought to have been; I compare it with -yours." - -"Our situations have borne little resemblance." - -"They have borne more than our conduct. Do not, my dearest Elinor, let -your kindness defend what I know your judgment must censure. My illness -has made me think. It has given me leisure and calmness for serious -recollection. Long before I was enough recovered to talk, I was -perfectly able to reflect. I considered the past: I saw in my own -behaviour, since the beginning of our acquaintance with him last autumn, -nothing but a series of imprudence towards myself, and want of kindness -to others. I saw that my own feelings had prepared my sufferings, and -that my want of fortitude under them had almost led me to the grave. My -illness, I well knew, had been entirely brought on by myself by such -negligence of my own health, as I had felt even at the time to be wrong. -Had I died, it would have been self-destruction. I did not know my -danger till the danger was removed; but with such feelings as these -reflections gave me, I wonder at my recovery,--wonder that the very -eagerness of my desire to live, to have time for atonement to my God, -and to you all, did not kill me at once. Had I died, in what peculiar -misery should I have left you, my nurse, my friend, my sister! You, who -had seen all the fretful selfishness of my latter days; who had known -all the murmurings of my heart! How should I have lived in _your_ -remembrance! My mother too! How could you have consoled her! I cannot -express my own abhorrence of myself. Whenever I looked towards the past, -I saw some duty neglected, or some failing indulged. Every body seemed -injured by me. The kindness, the unceasing kindness of Mrs. Jennings, I -had repaid with ungrateful contempt. To the Middletons, to the Palmers, -the Steeles, to every common acquaintance even, I had been insolent and -unjust; with a heart hardened against their merits, and a temper -irritated by their very attention. To John, to Fanny, yes, even to them, -little as they deserve, I had given less than their due. But you, you -above all, above my mother, had been wronged by me. I, and only I, knew -your heart and its sorrows; yet to what did it influence me?--not to any -compassion that could benefit you or myself. Your example was before me; -but to what avail? Was I more considerate of you and your comfort? Did I -imitate your forbearance, or lessen your restraints, by taking any part -in those offices of general complaisance or particular gratitude which -you had hitherto been left to discharge alone? No; not less when I knew -you to be unhappy, than when I had believed you at ease, did I turn away -from every exertion of duty or friendship; scarcely allowing sorrow to -exist but with me, regretting only _that_ heart which had deserted and -wronged me, and leaving you, for I professed an unbounded affection, to -be miserable for my sake." - -Here ceased the rapid flow of her self-reproving spirit; and Elinor, -impatient to soothe, though too honest to flatter, gave her instantly -that praise and support which her frankness and her contrition so well -deserved. Marianne pressed her hand and replied-- - -"You are very good. The future must be my proof. I have laid down my -plan, and if I am capable of adhering to it--my feelings shall be -governed and my temper improved. They shall no longer worry others, -nor torture myself. I shall now live solely for my family. You, my -mother, and Margaret, must henceforth be all the world to me; you will -share my affections entirely between you. From you, from my home, I -shall never again have the smallest incitement to move; and if I do -mix in other society, it will be only to show that my spirit is -humbled, my heart amended, and that I can practise the civilities, the -lesser duties of life, with gentleness and forbearance. As for -Willoughby--to say that I shall soon or that I shall ever forget him, -would be idle. His remembrance can be overcome by no change of -circumstances or opinions. But it shall be regulated, it shall be -checked by religion, by reason, by constant employment." - -She paused--and added in a low voice, "If I could but know _his_ -heart, everything would become easy." - -Elinor, who had now been for some time reflecting on the propriety or -impropriety of speedily hazarding her narration, without feeling at -all nearer decision than at first, heard this; and perceiving that as -reflection did nothing, resolution must do all, soon found herself -leading to the fact. - -She managed the recital, as she hoped, with address; prepared her -anxious listener with caution; related simply and honestly the chief -points on which Willoughby grounded his apology; did justice to his -repentance, and softened only his protestations of present regard. -Marianne said not a word. She trembled, her eyes were fixed on the -ground, and her lips became whiter than even sickness had left them. A -thousand inquiries sprung up from her heart, but she dared not urge -one. She caught every syllable with panting eagerness; her hand, -unknowingly to herself, closely pressed her sister's, and tears -covered her cheeks. - -Elinor, dreading her being tired, led her towards home; and till they -reached the door of the cottage, easily conjecturing what her -curiosity must be though no question was suffered to speak it, talked -of nothing but Willoughby, and their conversation together; and was -carefully minute in every particular of speech and look, where -minuteness could be safely indulged. As soon as they entered the -house, Marianne with a kiss of gratitude and these two words just -articulate through her tears, "Tell mama," withdrew from her sister -and walked slowly up stairs. Elinor would not attempt to disturb a -solitude so reasonable as what she now sought; and with a mind -anxiously pre-arranging its result, and a resolution of reviving the -subject again, should Marianne fail to do it, she turned into the -parlour to fulfill her parting injunction. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII - - -Mrs. Dashwood did not hear unmoved the vindication of her former -favourite. She rejoiced in his being cleared from some part of his -imputed guilt;--she was sorry for him;--she wished him happy. But the -feelings of the past could not be recalled. Nothing could restore him -with a faith unbroken--a character unblemished, to Marianne. Nothing -could do away the knowledge of what the latter had suffered through -his means, nor remove the guilt of his conduct towards Eliza. Nothing -could replace him, therefore, in her former esteem, nor injure the -interests of Colonel Brandon. - -Had Mrs. Dashwood, like her daughter, heard Willoughby's story from -himself,--had she witnessed his distress, and been under the influence -of his countenance and his manner, it is probable that her compassion -would have been greater. But it was neither in Elinor's power, nor in -her wish, to rouse such feelings in another, by her retailed -explanation, as had at first been called forth in herself. Reflection -had given calmness to her judgment, and sobered her own opinion of -Willoughby's deserts; she wished, therefore, to declare only the -simple truth, and lay open such facts as were really due to his -character, without any embellishment of tenderness to lead the fancy -astray. - -In the evening, when they were all three together, Marianne began -voluntarily to speak of him again; but that it was not without an -effort, the restless, unquiet thoughtfulness in which she had been for -some time previously sitting, her rising colour, as she spoke, and her -unsteady voice, plainly showed. - -"I wish to assure you both," said she, "that I see every thing--as you -can desire me to do." - -Mrs. Dashwood would have interrupted her instantly with soothing -tenderness, had not Elinor, who really wished to hear her sister's -unbiased opinion, by an eager sign, engaged her silence. Marianne -slowly continued-- - -"It is a great relief to me--what Elinor told me this morning--I have -now heard exactly what I wished to hear."--For some moments her voice -was lost; but recovering herself, she added, and with greater calmness -than before--"I am now perfectly satisfied, I wish for no change. I -never could have been happy with him, after knowing, as sooner or -later I must have known, all this. I should have had no confidence, no -esteem. Nothing could have done it away to my feelings." - -"I know it--I know it," cried her mother. "Happy with a man of -libertine practices!--With one who so injured the peace of the dearest -of our friends, and the best of men!--No--my Marianne has not a heart -to be made happy with such a man!--Her conscience, her sensitive -conscience, would have felt all that the conscience of her husband -ought to have felt." - -Marianne sighed, and repeated, "I wish for no change." - -"You consider the matter," said Elinor, "exactly as a good mind and a -sound understanding must consider it; and I dare say you perceive, as -well as myself, not only in this, but in many other circumstances, -reason enough to be convinced that your marriage must have involved -you in many certain troubles and disappointments, in which you would -have been poorly supported by an affection, on his side, much less -certain. Had you married, you must have been always poor. His -expensiveness is acknowledged even by himself, and his whole conduct -declares that self-denial is a word hardly understood by him. His -demands and your inexperience together, on a small, very small income, -must have brought on distresses which would not be the _less_ grievous -to you, from having been entirely unknown and unthought of before. -_Your_ sense of honour and honesty would have led you, I know, when -aware of your situation, to attempt all the economy that would appear -to you possible: and, perhaps, as long as your frugality retrenched -only on your own comfort, you might have been suffered to practice it, -but beyond that--and how little could the utmost of your single -management do to stop the ruin which had begun before your marriage? -beyond _that_, had you endeavoured, however reasonably, to abridge -_his_ enjoyments, is it not to be feared, that instead of prevailing -on feelings so selfish to consent to it, you would have lessened your -own influence on his heart, and made him regret the connection which -had involved him in such difficulties?" - -Marianne's lips quivered, and she repeated the word "Selfish?" in a -tone that implied, "do you really think him selfish?" - -"The whole of his behaviour," replied Elinor, "from the beginning to -the end of the affair, has been grounded on selfishness. It was -selfishness which first made him sport with your affections; which -afterwards, when his own were engaged, made him delay the confession -of it, and which finally carried him from Barton. His own enjoyment, -or his own ease, was, in every particular, his ruling principle." - -"It is very true. _My_ happiness never was his object." - -"At present," continued Elinor, "he regrets what he has done. And why -does he regret it?--Because he finds it has not answered towards -himself. It has not made him happy. His circumstances are now -unembarrassed--he suffers from no evil of that kind; and he thinks -only that he has married a woman of a less amiable temper than -yourself. But does it follow that had he married you, he would have -been happy?--The inconveniences would have been different. He would -then have suffered under the pecuniary distresses which, because they -are removed, he now reckons as nothing. He would have had a wife of -whose temper he could make no complaint, but he would have been always -necessitous--always poor; and probably would soon have learned to rank -the innumerable comforts of a clear estate and good income as of far -more importance, even to domestic happiness, than the mere temper of a -wife." - -"I have not a doubt of it," said Marianne; "and I have nothing to -regret--nothing but my own folly." - -"Rather say your mother's imprudence, my child," said Mrs. Dashwood; -"_she_ must be answerable." - -Marianne would not let her proceed;--and Elinor, satisfied that each -felt their own error, wished to avoid any survey of the past that -might weaken her sister's spirits; she, therefore, pursuing the first -subject, immediately continued-- - -"One observation may, I think, be fairly drawn from the whole of the -story--that all Willoughby's difficulties have arisen from the first -offence against virtue, in his behaviour to Eliza Williams. That crime -has been the origin of every lesser one, and of all his present -discontents." - -Marianne assented most feelingly to the remark; and her mother was led -by it to an enumeration of Colonel Brandon's injuries and merits, warm -as friendship and design could unitedly dictate. Her daughter did not -look, however, as if much of it were heard by her. - -Elinor, according to her expectation, saw on the two or three -following days, that Marianne did not continue to gain strength as she -had done; but while her resolution was unsubdued, and she still tried -to appear cheerful and easy, her sister could safely trust to the -effect of time upon her health. - -Margaret returned, and the family were again all restored to each -other, again quietly settled at the cottage; and if not pursuing their -usual studies with quite so much vigour as when they first came to -Barton, at least planning a vigorous prosecution of them in future. - -Elinor grew impatient for some tidings of Edward. She had heard -nothing of him since her leaving London, nothing new of his plans, -nothing certain even of his present abode. Some letters had passed -between her and her brother, in consequence of Marianne's illness; and -in the first of John's, there had been this sentence:--"We know -nothing of our unfortunate Edward, and can make no enquiries on so -prohibited a subject, but conclude him to be still at Oxford"; which -was all the intelligence of Edward afforded her by the correspondence, -for his name was not even mentioned in any of the succeeding letters. -She was not doomed, however, to be long in ignorance of his measures. - -Their man-servant had been sent one morning to Exeter on business; and -when, as he waited at table, he had satisfied the inquiries of his -mistress as to the event of his errand, this was his voluntary -communication-- - -"I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is married." - -Marianne gave a violent start, fixed her eyes upon Elinor, saw her -turning pale, and fell back in her chair in hysterics. Mrs. Dashwood, -whose eyes, as she answered the servant's inquiry, had intuitively -taken the same direction, was shocked to perceive by Elinor's -countenance how much she really suffered, and a moment afterwards, -alike distressed by Marianne's situation, knew not on which child to -bestow her principal attention. - -The servant, who saw only that Miss Marianne was taken ill, had sense -enough to call one of the maids, who, with Mrs. Dashwood's assistance, -supported her into the other room. By that time, Marianne was rather -better, and her mother leaving her to the care of Margaret and the -maid, returned to Elinor, who, though still much disordered, had so -far recovered the use of her reason and voice as to be just -beginning an inquiry of Thomas, as to the source of his intelligence. -Mrs. Dashwood immediately took all that trouble on herself; and Elinor -had the benefit of the information without the exertion of seeking it. - -[Illustration: "_I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is -married._"] - -"Who told you that Mr. Ferrars was married, Thomas?" - -"I see Mr. Ferrars myself, ma'am, this morning in Exeter, and his lady -too, Miss Steele as was. They was stopping in a chaise at the door of -the New London Inn, as I went there with a message from Sally at the -Park to her brother, who is one of the post-boys. I happened to look -up as I went by the chaise, and so I see directly it was the youngest -Miss Steele; so I took off my hat, and she knew me and called to me, -and inquired after you, ma'am, and the young ladies, especially Miss -Marianne, and bid me I should give her compliments and Mr. Ferrars's, -their best compliments and service, and how sorry they was they had -not time to come on and see you, but they was in a great hurry to go -forwards, for they was going further down for a little while, but -however, when they come back, they'd make sure to come and see you." - -"But did she tell you she was married, Thomas?" - -"Yes, ma'am. She smiled, and said how she had changed her name since -she was in these parts. She was always a very affable and free-spoken -young lady, and very civil behaved. So, I made free to wish her joy." - -"Was Mr. Ferrars in the carriage with her?" - -"Yes, ma'am, I just see him leaning back in it, but he did not look -up;--he never was a gentleman much for talking." - -Elinor's heart could easily account for his not putting himself -forward; and Mrs. Dashwood probably found the same explanation. - -"Was there no one else in the carriage?" - -"No, ma'am, only they two." - -"Do you know where they came from?" - -"They come straight from town, as Miss Lucy--Mrs. Ferrars told me." - -"And are they going farther westward?" - -"Yes, ma'am--but not to bide long. They will soon be back again, and -then they'd be sure and call here." - -Mrs. Dashwood now looked at her daughter; but Elinor knew better than -to expect them. She recognised the whole of Lucy in the message, and -was very confident that Edward would never come near them. She -observed in a low voice, to her mother, that they were probably going -down to Mr. Pratt's, near Plymouth. - -Thomas's intelligence seemed over. Elinor looked as if she wished to -hear more. - -"Did you see them off, before you came away?" - -"No, ma'am--the horses were just coming out, but I could not bide any -longer; I was afraid of being late." - -"Did Mrs. Ferrars look well?" - -"Yes, ma'am, she said how she was very well; and to my mind she was -always a very handsome young lady--and she seemed vastly contented." - -Mrs. Dashwood could think of no other question, and Thomas and the -tablecloth, now alike needless, were soon afterwards dismissed. -Marianne had already sent to say, that she should eat nothing more. -Mrs. Dashwood's and Elinor's appetites were equally lost, and Margaret -might think herself very well off, that with so much uneasiness as -both her sisters had lately experienced, so much reason as they had -often had to be careless of their meals, she had never been obliged to -go without her dinner before. - -When the dessert and the wine were arranged, and Mrs. Dashwood and -Elinor were left by themselves, they remained long together in a -similarity of thoughtfulness and silence. Mrs. Dashwood feared to -hazard any remark, and ventured not to offer consolation. She now -found that she had erred in relying on Elinor's representation of -herself; and justly concluded that every thing had been expressly -softened at the time, to spare her from an increase of unhappiness, -suffering as she then had suffered for Marianne. She found that she -had been misled by the careful, the considerate attention of her -daughter, to think the attachment, which once she had so well -understood, much slighter in reality, than she had been wont to -believe, or than it was now proved to be. She feared that under this -persuasion she had been unjust, inattentive, nay, almost unkind, to -her Elinor; that Marianne's affliction, because more acknowledged, -more immediately before her, had too much engrossed her tenderness, -and led her away to forget that in Elinor she might have a daughter -suffering almost as much, certainly with less self-provocation, and -greater fortitude. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII - - -Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an -unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, -and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had -always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something -would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy; that some resolution of his -own, some mediation of friends, or some more eligible opportunity of -establishment for the lady, would arise to assist the happiness of -all. But he was now married; and she condemned her heart for the -lurking flattery, which so much heightened the pain of the -intelligence. - -That he should be married soon, before (as she imagined) he could be -in orders, and consequently before he could be in possession of the -living, surprised her a little at first. But she soon saw how likely -it was that Lucy, in her self-provident care, in her haste to secure -him, should overlook every thing but the risk of delay. They were -married, married in town, and now hastening down to her uncle's. What -had Edward felt on being within four miles from Barton, on seeing her -mother's servant, on hearing Lucy's message! - -They would soon, she supposed, be settled at -Delaford;--Delaford,--that place in which so much conspired to give -her an interest; which she wished to be acquainted with, and yet -desired to avoid. She saw them in an instant in their parsonage-house; -saw in Lucy, the active, contriving manager, uniting at once a desire -of smart appearance with the utmost frugality, and ashamed to be -suspected of half her economical practices; pursuing her own interest -in every thought, courting the favour of Colonel Brandon, of Mrs. -Jennings, and of every wealthy friend. In Edward, she knew not what -she saw, nor what she wished to see. Happy or unhappy, nothing pleased -her; she turned away her head from every sketch of him. - -Elinor flattered herself that some one of their connections in London -would write to them to announce the event, and give farther -particulars,--but day after day passed off, and brought no letter, no -tidings. Though uncertain that any one were to blame, she found fault -with every absent friend. They were all thoughtless or indolent. - -"When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma'am?" was an inquiry which -sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on. - -"I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to -hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should -not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day." - -This was gaining something, something to look forward to. Colonel -Brandon must have some information to give. - -Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a man on -horseback drew her eyes to the window. He stopped at their gate. It -was a gentleman, it was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear -more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But--it was _not_ Colonel -Brandon--neither his air--nor his height. Were it possible, she must -say it must be Edward. She looked again. He had just dismounted;--she -could not be mistaken,--it _was_ Edward. She moved away and sat down. -"He comes from Mr. Pratt's purposely to see us. I _will_ be calm, I -_will_ be mistress of myself." - -In a moment she perceived that the others were likewise aware of the -mistake. She saw her mother and Marianne change colour; saw them look -at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have -given the world to be able to speak--and to make them understand that -she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to -him;--but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their -own discretion. - -Not a syllable passed aloud. They all waited in silence for the -appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel -path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before -them. - -His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for -Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if -fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. -Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of -that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be -guided in every thing, met with a look of forced complacency, gave him -her hand, and wished him joy. - -[Illustration: _It was Edward._] - -He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor's lips -had moved with her mother's, and, when the moment of action was over, -she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too -late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again -and talked of the weather. - -Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal -her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole -of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and -therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a -strict silence. - -When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very -awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who -felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a -hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative. - -Another pause. - -Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own -voice, now said-- - -"Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?" - -"At Longstaple!" he replied, with an air of surprise. "No, my mother -is in town." - -"I meant," said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, "to -inquire for Mrs. _Edward_ Ferrars." - -She dared not look up;--but her mother and Marianne both turned their -eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, -after some hesitation, said,-- - -"Perhaps you mean--my brother--you mean Mrs.--Mrs. _Robert_ Ferrars." - -"Mrs. Robert Ferrars!"--was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an -accent of the utmost amazement;--and though Elinor could not speak, -even _her_ eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He -rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not -knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and -while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to -pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice-- - -"Perhaps you do not know--you may not have heard that my brother is -lately married to--to the youngest--to Miss Lucy Steele." - -His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but -Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of -such agitation as made her hardly know where she was. - -"Yes," said he, "they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish." - -Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as -soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first -she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any -where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw, or -even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a -reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of -Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, -quitted the room, and walked out towards the village, leaving the -others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his -situation, so wonderful and so sudden,--a perplexity which they had no -means of lessening but by their own conjectures. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX - - -Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might -appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and -to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily -pre-determined by all;--for after experiencing the blessings of _one_ -imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother's consent, as he -had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be -expected of him in the failure of _that_, than the immediate -contraction of another. - -His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask -Elinor to marry him;--and considering that he was not altogether -inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should -feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in -need of encouragement and fresh air. - -How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, -how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he -expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly -told. This only need be said;--that when they all sat down to table at -four o'clock, about three hours after his arrival, he had secured his -lady, engaged her mother's consent, and was not only in the rapturous -profession of the lover, but, in the reality of reason and truth, one -of the happiest of men. His situation indeed was more than commonly -joyful. He had more than the ordinary triumph of accepted love to -swell his heart, and raise his spirits. He was released without any -reproach to himself, from an entanglement which had long formed his -misery, from a woman whom he had long ceased to love; and elevated at -once to that security with another, which he must have thought of -almost with despair, as soon as he had learnt to consider it with -desire. He was brought, not from doubt or suspense, but from misery to -happiness; and the change was openly spoken in such a genuine, -flowing, grateful cheerfulness, as his friends had never witnessed in -him before. - -His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors -confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all -the philosophic dignity of twenty-four. - -"It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side," said he, "the -consequence of ignorance of the world and want of employment. Had my -mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen -from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never -have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at -the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet had I -then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a -distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have outgrown -the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as -in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, -instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to -choose any myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the -first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, -which belonging to the university would have given me; for I was not -entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the -world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not -make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no -companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not -unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt -myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I -spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: -Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty -too--at least I thought so _then_; and I had seen so little of other -women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. -Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement -was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at -the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly." - -The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the -happiness of the Dashwoods, was such--so great--as promised them all, -the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be -comfortable, knew not how to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, -how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his -delicacy, nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained -conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, the sight and -society of both. - -Marianne could speak _her_ happiness only by tears. Comparisons would -occur--regrets would arise;--and her joy, though sincere as her love -for her sister, was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor -language. - -But Elinor--how are _her_ feelings to be described? From the moment of -learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to -the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly -followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the -second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude -removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,--saw -him honourably released from his former engagement,--saw him instantly -profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection -as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,--she was -oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed -as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the -better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, -or any degree of tranquillity to her heart. - -Edward was now fixed at the cottage at least for a week;--for whatever -other claims might be made on him, it was impossible that less than a -week should be given up to the enjoyment of Elinor's company, or -suffice to say half that was to be said of the past, the present, and -the future;--for though a very few hours spent in the hard labor of -incessant talking will despatch more subjects than can really be in -common between any two rational creatures, yet with lovers it is -different. Between _them_ no subject is finished, no communication is -even made, till it has been made at least twenty times over. - -Lucy's marriage, the unceasing and reasonable wonder among them all, -formed of course one of the earliest discussions of the lovers;--and -Elinor's particular knowledge of each party made it appear to her in -every view, as one of the most extraordinary and unaccountable -circumstances she had ever heard. How they could be thrown together, -and by what attraction Robert could be drawn on to marry a girl, of -whose beauty she had herself heard him speak without any -admiration,--a girl too already engaged to his brother, and on whose -account that brother had been thrown off by his family--it was beyond -her comprehension to make out. To her own heart it was a delightful -affair, to her imagination it was even a ridiculous one, but to her -reason, her judgment, it was completely a puzzle. - -Edward could only attempt an explanation by supposing, that, perhaps, -at first accidentally meeting, the vanity of the one had been so -worked on by the flattery of the other, as to lead by degrees to all -the rest. Elinor remembered what Robert had told her in Harley Street, -of his opinion of what his own mediation in his brother's affairs -might have done, if applied to in time. She repeated it to Edward. - -"_That_ was exactly like Robert," was his immediate observation. "And -_that_," he presently added, "might perhaps be in _his_ head when the -acquaintance between them first began. And Lucy perhaps at first might -think only of procuring his good offices in my favour. Other designs -might afterward arise." - -How long it had been carrying on between them, however, he was equally -at a loss with herself to make out; for at Oxford, where he had -remained for choice ever since his quitting London, he had had no -means of hearing of her but from herself, and her letters to the very -last were neither less frequent, nor less affectionate than usual. Not -the smallest suspicion, therefore, had ever occurred to prepare him -for what followed;--and when at last it burst on him in a letter from -Lucy herself, he had been for some time, he believed, half stupified -between the wonder, the horror, and the joy of such a deliverance. He -put the letter into Elinor's hands. - -"DEAR SIR, - - "Being very sure I have long lost your affections, I have - thought myself at liberty to bestow my own on another, and - have no doubt of being as happy with him as I once used to - think I might be with you; but I scorn to accept a hand - while the heart was another's. Sincerely wish you happy in - your choice, and it shall not be my fault if we are not - always good friends, as our near relationship now makes - proper. I can safely say I owe you no ill-will, and am sure - you will be too generous to do us any ill offices. Your - brother has gained my affections entirely, and as we could - not live without one another, we are just returned from the - altar, and are now on our way to Dawlish for a few weeks, - which place your dear brother has great curiosity to see, - but thought I would first trouble you with these few lines, - and shall always remain-- - - "Your sincere well-wisher, friend, and sister, - - "LUCY FERRARS." - - "I have burnt all your letters, and will return your picture - the first opportunity. Please to destroy my scrawls--but the - ring with my hair you are very welcome to keep." - -Elinor read and returned it without any comment. - -"I will not ask your opinion of it as a composition," said Edward. -"For worlds would not I have had a letter of hers seen by _you_ in -former days. In a sister it is bad enough, but in a wife! how I have -blushed over the pages of her writing! and I believe I may say that -since the first half year of our foolish business this is the only -letter I ever received from her, of which the substance made me any -amends for the defect of the style." - -"However it may have come about," said Elinor, after a pause,--"they -are certainly married. And your mother has brought on herself a most -appropriate punishment. The independence she settled on Robert, -through resentment against you, has put it in his power to make his -own choice; and she has actually been bribing one son with a thousand -a-year, to do the very deed which she disinherited the other for -intending to do. She will hardly be less hurt, I suppose, by Robert's -marrying Lucy, than she would have been by your marrying her." - -"She will be more hurt by it, for Robert always was her favourite. She -will be more hurt by it, and on the same principle will forgive him -much sooner." - -In what state the affair stood at present between them, Edward knew -not, for no communication with any of his family had yet been -attempted by him. He had quitted Oxford within four and twenty hours -after Lucy's letter arrived, and with only one object before him, the -nearest road to Barton, had had no leisure to form any scheme of -conduct, with which that road did not hold the most intimate -connection. He could do nothing till he were assured of his fate with -Miss Dashwood; and by his rapidity in seeking _that_ fate, it is to be -supposed, in spite of the jealousy with which he had once thought of -Colonel Brandon, in spite of the modesty with which he rated his own -deserts, and the politeness with which he talked of his doubts, he did -not, upon the whole, expect a very cruel reception. It was his -business, however, to say that he _did_, and he said it very prettily. -What he might say on the subject a twelvemonth after, must be referred -to the imagination of husbands and wives. - -That Lucy had certainly meant to deceive, to go off with a flourish of -malice against him in her message by Thomas, was perfectly clear to -Elinor; and Edward himself, now thoroughly enlightened on her -character, had no scruple in believing her capable of the utmost -meanness of wanton ill-nature. Though his eyes had been long opened, -even before his acquaintance with Elinor began, to her ignorance and a -want of liberality in some of her opinions, they had been equally -imputed, by him, to her want of education; and till her last letter -reached him, he had always believed her to be a well-disposed, -good-hearted girl, and thoroughly attached to himself. Nothing but -such a persuasion could have prevented his putting an end to an -engagement, which, long before the discovery of it laid him open to -his mother's anger, had been a continual source of disquiet and regret -to him. - -"I thought it my duty," said he, "independent of my feelings, to give -her the option of continuing the engagement or not, when I was -renounced by my mother, and stood to all appearance without a friend -in the world to assist me. In such a situation as that, where there -seemed nothing to tempt the avarice or the vanity of any living -creature, how could I suppose, when she so earnestly, so warmly -insisted on sharing my fate, whatever it might be, that any thing but -the most disinterested affection was her inducement? And even now, I -cannot comprehend on what motive she acted, or what fancied advantage -it could be to her, to be fettered to a man for whom she had not the -smallest regard, and who had only two thousand pounds in the world. -She could not foresee that Colonel Brandon would give me a living." - -"No; but she might suppose that something would occur in your favour; -that your own family might in time relent. And at any rate, she lost -nothing by continuing the engagement, for she has proved that it -fettered neither her inclination nor her actions. The connection was -certainly a respectable one, and probably gained her consideration -among her friends; and, if nothing more advantageous occurred, it -would be better for her to marry _you_ than be single." - -Edward was, of course, immediately convinced that nothing could have -been more natural than Lucy's conduct, nor more self-evident than the -motive of it. - -Elinor scolded him, harshly as ladies always scold the imprudence -which compliments themselves, for having spent so much time with them -at Norland, when he must have felt his own inconstancy. - -"Your behaviour was certainly very wrong," said she; "because--to say -nothing of my own conviction, our relations were all led away by it to -fancy and expect _what_, as you were _then_ situated, could never be." - -He could only plead an ignorance of his own heart, and a mistaken -confidence in the force of his engagement. - -"I was simple enough to think, that because my _faith_ was plighted to -another, there could be no danger in my being with you; and that the -consciousness of my engagement was to keep my heart as safe and sacred -as my honour. I felt that I admired you, but I told myself it was only -friendship; and till I began to make comparisons between yourself and -Lucy, I did not know how far I was got. After that, I suppose, I _was_ -wrong in remaining so much in Sussex, and the arguments with which I -reconciled myself to the expediency of it, were no better than -these:--The danger is my own; I am doing no injury to anybody but -myself." - -Elinor smiled, and shook her head. - -Edward heard with pleasure of Colonel Brandon's being expected at the -Cottage, as he really wished not only to be better acquainted with -him, but to have an opportunity of convincing him that he no longer -resented his giving him the living of Delaford--"Which, at present," -said he, "after thanks so ungraciously delivered as mine were on the -occasion, he must think I have never forgiven him for offering." - -_Now_ he felt astonished himself that he had never yet been to the -place. But so little interest had he taken in the matter, that he owed -all his knowledge of the house, garden, and glebe, extent of the -parish, condition of the land, and rate of the tithes, to Elinor -herself, who had heard so much of it from Colonel Brandon, and heard -it with so much attention, as to be entirely mistress of the subject. - -One question after this only remained undecided, between them, one -difficulty only was to be overcome. They were brought together by -mutual affection, with the warmest approbation of their real friends; -their intimate knowledge of each other seemed to make their happiness -certain--and they only wanted something to live upon. Edward had two -thousand pounds, and Elinor one, which, with Delaford living, was all -that they could call their own; for it was impossible that Mrs. -Dashwood should advance anything; and they were neither of them quite -enough in love to think that three hundred and fifty pounds a-year -would supply them with the comforts of life. - -Edward was not entirely without hopes of some favourable change in his -mother towards him; and on _that_ he rested for the residue of their -income. But Elinor had no such dependence; for since Edward would -still be unable to marry Miss Morton, and his choosing herself had -been spoken of in Mrs. Ferrars's flattering language as only a lesser -evil than his choosing Lucy Steele, she feared that Robert's offence -would serve no other purpose than to enrich Fanny. - -About four days after Edward's arrival Colonel Brandon appeared, to -complete Mrs. Dashwood's satisfaction, and to give her the dignity of -having, for the first time since her living at Barton, more company -with her than her house would hold. Edward was allowed to retain the -privilege of first comer, and Colonel Brandon therefore walked every -night to his old quarters at the Park; from whence he usually returned -in the morning, early enough to interrupt the lovers' first -tete-a-tete before breakfast. - -A three weeks' residence at Delaford, where, in his evening hours at -least, he had little to do but to calculate the disproportion between -thirty-six and seventeen, brought him to Barton in a temper of mind -which needed all the improvement in Marianne's looks, all the kindness -of her welcome, and all the encouragement of her mother's language, to -make it cheerful. Among such friends, however, and such flattery, he -did revive. No rumour of Lucy's marriage had yet reached him:--he knew -nothing of what had passed; and the first hours of his visit were -consequently spent in hearing and in wondering. Every thing was -explained to him by Mrs. Dashwood, and he found fresh reason to -rejoice in what he had done for Mr. Ferrars, since eventually it -promoted the interest of Elinor. - -It would be needless to say, that the gentlemen advanced in the good -opinion of each other, as they advanced in each other's acquaintance, -for it could not be otherwise. Their resemblance in good principles -and good sense, in disposition and manner of thinking, would probably -have been sufficient to unite them in friendship, without any other -attraction; but their being in love with two sisters, and two sisters -fond of each other, made that mutual regard inevitable and immediate, -which might otherwise have waited the effect of time and judgment. - -The letters from town, which a few days before would have made every -nerve in Elinor's body thrill with transport, now arrived to be read -with less emotion than mirth. Mrs. Jennings wrote to tell the -wonderful tale, to vent her honest indignation against the jilting -girl, and pour forth her compassion towards poor Mr. Edward, who, she -was sure, had quite doted upon the worthless hussy, and was now, by -all accounts, almost broken-hearted, at Oxford. "I do think," she -continued, "nothing was ever carried on so sly; for it was but two -days before Lucy called and sat a couple of hours with me. Not a soul -suspected anything of the matter, not even Nancy, who, poor soul! came -crying to me the day after, in a great fright for fear of Mrs. -Ferrars, as well as not knowing how to get to Plymouth; for Lucy it -seems borrowed all her money before she went off to be married, on -purpose we suppose to make a show with, and poor Nancy had not seven -shillings in the world;--so I was very glad to give her five guineas -to take her down to Exeter, where she thinks of staying three or four -weeks with Mrs. Burgess, in hopes, as I tell her, to fall in with the -Doctor again. And I must say that Lucy's crossness not to take them -along with them in the chaise is worse than all. Poor Mr. Edward! I -cannot get him out of my head, but you must send for him to Barton, -and Miss Marianne must try to comfort him." - -Mr. Dashwood's strains were more solemn. Mrs. Ferrars was the most -unfortunate of women--poor Fanny had suffered agonies of -sensibility--and he considered the existence of each, under such a -blow, with grateful wonder. Robert's offence was unpardonable, but -Lucy's was infinitely worse. Neither of them were ever again to be -mentioned to Mrs. Ferrars; and even, if she might hereafter be induced -to forgive her son, his wife should never be acknowledged as her -daughter, nor be permitted to appear in her presence. The secrecy with -which everything had been carried on between them, was rationally -treated as enormously heightening the crime, because, had any -suspicion of it occurred to the others, proper measures would have -been taken to prevent the marriage; and he called on Elinor to join -with him in regretting that Lucy's engagement with Edward had not -rather been fulfilled, than that she should thus be the means of -spreading misery farther in the family. He thus continued:-- - -"Mrs. Ferrars has never yet mentioned Edward's name, which does not -surprise us; but, to our great astonishment, not a line has been -received from him on the occasion. Perhaps, however, he is kept silent -by his fear of offending, and I shall, therefore, give him a hint, by -a line to Oxford, that his sister and I both think a letter of proper -submission from him, addressed perhaps to Fanny, and by her shown to -her mother, might not be taken amiss; for we all know the tenderness -of Mrs. Ferrars's heart, and that she wishes for nothing so much as to -be on good terms with her children." - -This paragraph was of some importance to the prospects and conduct of -Edward. It determined him to attempt a reconciliation, though not -exactly in the manner pointed out by their brother and sister. - -"A letter of proper submission!" repeated he; "would they have me beg -my mother's pardon for Robert's ingratitude to _her_, and breach of -honour to _me_? I can make no submission. I am grown neither humble -nor penitent by what has passed. I am grown very happy; but that would -not interest. I know of no submission that _is_ proper for me to -make." - -"You may certainly ask to be forgiven," said Elinor, "because you have -offended;--and I should think you might _now_ venture so far as to -profess some concern for having ever formed the engagement which drew -on you your mother's anger." - -He agreed that he might. - -"And when she has forgiven you, perhaps a little humility may be -convenient while acknowledging a second engagement, almost as -imprudent in _her_ eyes as the first." - -He had nothing to urge against it, but still resisted the idea of a -letter of proper submission; and therefore, to make it easier to him, -as he declared a much greater willingness to make mean concessions by -word of mouth than on paper, it was resolved that, instead of writing -to Fanny, he should go to London, and personally entreat her good -offices in his favour. "And if they really _do_ interest themselves," -said Marianne, in her new character of candour, "in bringing about a -reconciliation, I shall think that even John and Fanny are not -entirely without merit." - -After a visit on Colonel Brandon's side of only three or four days, -the two gentlemen quitted Barton together. They were to go immediately -to Delaford, that Edward might have some personal knowledge of his -future home, and assist his patron and friend in deciding on what -improvements were needed to it; and from thence, after staying there a -couple of nights, he was to proceed on his journey to town. - - - - -CHAPTER L - - -After a proper resistance on the part of Mrs. Ferrars, just so violent -and so steady as to preserve her from that reproach which she always -seemed fearful of incurring, the reproach of being too amiable, Edward -was admitted to her presence, and pronounced to be again her son. - -Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. For many years of -her life she had had two sons; but the crime and annihilation of -Edward a few weeks ago, had robbed her of one; the similar -annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any; and -now, by the resuscitation of Edward, she had one again. - -In spite of his being allowed once more to live, however, he did not -feel the continuance of his existence secure, till he had revealed his -present engagement; for the publication of that circumstance, he -feared, might give a sudden turn to his constitution, and carry him -off as rapidly as before. With apprehensive caution therefore it was -revealed, and he was listened to with unexpected calmness. Mrs. -Ferrars at first reasonably endeavoured to dissuade him from marrying -Miss Dashwood, by every argument in her power; told him, that in Miss -Morton he would have a woman of higher rank and larger fortune; and -enforced the assertion, by observing that Miss Morton was the daughter -of a nobleman with thirty thousand pounds, while Miss Dashwood was -only the daughter of a private gentleman with no more than _three_; -but when she found that, though perfectly admitting the truth of her -representation, he was by no means inclined to be guided by it, she -judged it wisest, from the experience of the past, to submit; and -therefore, after such an ungracious delay as she owed to her own -dignity, and as served to prevent every suspicion of good-will, she -issued her decree of consent to the marriage of Edward and Elinor. - -What she would engage to do towards augmenting their income was next -to be considered; and here it plainly appeared, that though Edward was -now her only son, he was by no means her eldest; for while Robert was -inevitably endowed with a thousand pounds a-year, not the smallest -objection was made against Edward's taking orders for the sake of two -hundred and fifty at the utmost; nor was anything promised either for -the present or in future, beyond the ten thousand pounds, which had -been given with Fanny. - -It was as much, however, as was desired, and more than was expected, -by Edward and Elinor; and Mrs. Ferrars herself, by her shuffling -excuses, seemed the only person surprised at her not giving more. - -With an income quite sufficient to their wants thus secured to them, -they had nothing to wait for after Edward was in possession of the -living, but the readiness of the house, to which Colonel Brandon, with -an eager desire for the accommodation of Elinor, was making -considerable improvements; and after waiting some time for their -completion, after experiencing, as usual, a thousand disappointments -and delays from the unaccountable dilatoriness of the workmen, Elinor, -as usual, broke through the first positive resolution of not marrying -till every thing was ready, and the ceremony took place in Barton -church early in the autumn. - -The first month after their marriage was spent with their friend at -the Mansion-house; from whence they could superintend the progress of -the Parsonage, and direct every thing as they liked on the -spot;--could choose papers, project shrubberies, and invent a sweep. -Mrs. Jennings's prophecies, though rather jumbled together, were -chiefly fulfilled; for she was able to visit Edward and his wife in -their Parsonage by Michaelmas, and she found in Elinor and her -husband, as she really believed, one of the happiest couples in the -world. They had in fact nothing to wish for, but the marriage of -Colonel Brandon and Marianne, and rather better pasturage for their -cows. - -They were visited on their first settling by almost all their -relations and friends. Mrs. Ferrars came to inspect the happiness -which she was almost ashamed of having authorised; and even the -Dashwoods were at the expense of a journey from Sussex to do them -honour. - -"I will not say that I am disappointed, my dear sister," said John, as -they were walking together one morning before the gates of Delaford -House, "_that_ would be saying too much, for certainly you have been -one of the most fortunate young women in the world, as it is. But, I -confess, it would give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon -brother. His property here, his place, his house,--every thing is in -such respectable and excellent condition! And his woods,--I have not -seen such timber any where in Dorsetshire, as there is now standing in -Delaford Hanger! And though, perhaps, Marianne may not seem exactly -the person to attract him, yet I think it would altogether be -advisable for you to have them now frequently staying with you, for as -Colonel Brandon seems a great deal at home, nobody can tell what may -happen; for, when people are much thrown together, and see little of -anybody else,--and it will always be in your power to set her off to -advantage, and so forth. In short, you may as well give her a chance; -You understand me." - -But though Mrs. Ferrars _did_ come to see them, and always treated -them with the make-believe of decent affection, they were never -insulted by her real favour and preference. _That_ was due to the -folly of Robert, and the cunning of his wife; and it was earned by -them before many months had passed away. The selfish sagacity of the -latter, which had at first drawn Robert into the scrape, was the -principal instrument of his deliverance from it; for her respectful -humility, assiduous attentions, and endless flatteries, as soon as the -smallest opening was given for their exercise, reconciled Mrs. Ferrars -to his choice, and re-established him completely in her favour. - -[Illustration: _Everything in such respectable condition_] - -The whole of Lucy's behaviour in the affair, and the prosperity which -crowned it, therefore, may be held forth as a most encouraging -instance of what an earnest, an unceasing attention to self-interest, -however its progress may be apparently obstructed, will do in securing -every advantage of fortune, with no other sacrifice than that of time -and conscience. When Robert first sought her acquaintance, and -privately visited her in Bartlett's Buildings, it was only with the -view imputed to him by his brother. He merely meant to persuade her to -give up the engagement; and as there could be nothing to overcome but -the affection of both, he naturally expected that one or two -interviews would settle the matter. In that point, however, and that -only, he erred; for though Lucy soon gave him hopes that his eloquence -would convince her in _time_, another visit, another conversation, was -always wanted to produce this conviction. Some doubts always lingered -in her mind when they parted, which could only be removed by another -half hour's discourse with himself. His attendance was by this means -secured, and the rest followed in course. Instead of talking of -Edward, they came gradually to talk only of Robert,--a subject on -which he had always more to say than on any other, and in which she -soon betrayed an interest even equal to his own; and in short, it -became speedily evident to both, that he had entirely supplanted his -brother. He was proud of his conquest, proud of tricking Edward, and -very proud of marrying privately without his mother's consent. What -immediately followed is known. They passed some months in great -happiness at Dawlish; for she had many relations and old acquaintances -to cut--and he drew several plans for magnificent cottages; and from -thence returning to town, procured the forgiveness of Mrs. Ferrars, by -the simple expedient of asking it, which, at Lucy's instigation, was -adopted. The forgiveness, at first, indeed, as was reasonable, -comprehended only Robert; and Lucy, who had owed his mother no duty -and therefore could have transgressed none, still remained some weeks -longer unpardoned. But perseverance in humility of conduct and -messages, in self-condemnation for Robert's offence, and gratitude for -the unkindness she was treated with, procured her in time the haughty -notice which overcame her by its graciousness, and led soon -afterwards, by rapid degrees, to the highest state of affection and -influence. Lucy became as necessary to Mrs. Ferrars, as either Robert -or Fanny; and while Edward was never cordially forgiven for having -once intended to marry her, and Elinor, though superior to her in -fortune and birth, was spoken of as an intruder, _she_ was in every -thing considered, and always openly acknowledged, to be a favourite -child. They settled in town, received very liberal assistance from -Mrs. Ferrars, were on the best terms imaginable with the Dashwoods; -and setting aside the jealousies and ill-will continually subsisting -between Fanny and Lucy, in which their husbands of course took a part, -as well as the frequent domestic disagreements between Robert and Lucy -themselves, nothing could exceed the harmony in which they all lived -together. - -What Edward had done to forfeit the right of eldest son, might have -puzzled many people to find out; and what Robert had done to succeed -to it, might have puzzled them still more. It was an arrangement, -however, justified in its effects, if not in its cause; for nothing -ever appeared in Robert's style of living or of talking to give a -suspicion of his regretting the extent of his income, as either -leaving his brother too little, or bringing himself too much;--and if -Edward might be judged from the ready discharge of his duties in every -particular, from an increasing attachment to his wife and his home, -and from the regular cheerfulness of his spirits, he might be supposed -no less contented with his lot, no less free from every wish of an -exchange. - -Elinor's marriage divided her as little from her family as could well -be contrived, without rendering the cottage at Barton entirely -useless, for her mother and sisters spent much more than half their -time with her. Mrs. Dashwood was acting on motives of policy as well -as pleasure in the frequency of her visits at Delaford; for her wish -of bringing Marianne and Colonel Brandon together was hardly less -earnest, though rather more liberal than what John had expressed. It -was now her darling object. Precious as was the company of her -daughter to her, she desired nothing so much as to give up its -constant enjoyment to her valued friend; and to see Marianne settled -at the mansion-house was equally the wish of Edward and Elinor. They -each felt his sorrows, and their own obligations, and Marianne, by -general consent, was to be the reward of all. - -With such a confederacy against her--with a knowledge so intimate of -his goodness--with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself, -which at last, though long after it was observable to everybody -else--burst on her--what could she do? - -Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to -discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her -conduct, her most favourite maxims. She was born to overcome an -affection formed so late in life as at seventeen, and with no -sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily -to give her hand to another!--and _that_ other, a man who had suffered -no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom, two -years before, she had considered too old to be married,--and who still -sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat! - -But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible -passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting, -instead of remaining even for ever with her mother, and finding her -only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm -and sober judgment she had determined on,--she found herself at -nineteen, submitting to new attachments, entering on new duties, -placed in a new home, a wife, the mistress of a family, and the -patroness of a village. - -Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, -believed he deserved to be;--in Marianne he was consoled for every -past affliction;--her regard and her society restored his mind to -animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found -her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and -delight of each observing friend. Marianne could never love by halves; -and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, -as it had once been to Willoughby. - -Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his -punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness -of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character, -as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had -he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been -happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought -its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;--nor that he -long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with -regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from -society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a -broken heart, must not be depended on--for he did neither. He lived to -exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of -humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses -and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable -degree of domestic felicity. - -For Marianne, however, in spite of his incivility in surviving her -loss, he always retained that decided regard which interested him in -every thing that befell her, and made her his secret standard of -perfection in woman; and many a rising beauty would be slighted by him -in after-days as bearing no comparison with Mrs. Brandon. - -Mrs. Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage, without -attempting a removal to Delaford; and fortunately for Sir John and -Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken from them, Margaret had -reached an age highly suitable for dancing, and not very ineligible -for being supposed to have a lover. - -Between Barton and Delaford, there was that constant communication -which strong family affection would naturally dictate;--and among the -merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked -as the least considerable, that though sisters, and living almost -within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement -between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands. - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE AND SENSIBILITY *** - -***** This file should be named 21839.txt or 21839.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/3/21839/ - -Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall and Sankar Viswanathan (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Print project.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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