While they were at
breakfast
the letters were brought in.
Austen - Sense and Sensibility
"
"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.
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 11
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 shewn; 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 inforced change--from a series of unfortunate circumstances"--
Here he stopt 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 12
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; Mama 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.
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 13
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. "
"Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to shew
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 shew 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 14
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.
"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.
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 11
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 shewn; 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 inforced change--from a series of unfortunate circumstances"--
Here he stopt 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 12
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; Mama 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.
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 13
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. "
"Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to shew
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 shew 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 14
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.
