No More Learning

--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 guests, 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 shewed 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
it to him, 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 40


"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 goodby, 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 he, 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! "

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 41


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.

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 hers, 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 42


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
chuse 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.

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.

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.