by Jane Austen

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SENSE AND SENSIBILITY by Jane Austen (1811)


The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner as to engage the general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance. The late owner of this estate was a single man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for many years of his life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister. But her death, which happened ten years before his own, produced a great alteration in his home; for to supply her loss, he invited and received into his house the family of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, the legal inheritor of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he intended to bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, and their children, the old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent. His attachment to them all increased. The constant attention of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from interest, but from goodness of heart, gave him every degree of solid comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the children added a relish to his existence. By a former marriage, Mr. Henry Dashwood had one son: by his present lady, three daughters. The son, a steady respectable young man, was amply provided for by the fortune of his mother, which had been large, and half of which devolved on him on his coming of age. By his own marriage, likewise, which happened soon afterwards, he added to his wealth. To him therefore the succession to the Norland estate was not so really important as to his sisters; for their fortune, independent of what might arise to them from their father's inheriting that property, could be but small. Their mother had nothing, and their father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal; for the remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was also secured to her child, and he had only a life-interest in it. The old gentleman died: his will was read, and like almost every other will, gave as much disappointment as pleasure. He was neither so unjust, nor so ungrateful,

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as to leave his estate from his nephew;--but he left it to him on such terms as destroyed half the value of the bequest. Mr. Dashwood had wished for it more for the sake of his wife and daughters than for himself or his son;--but to his son, and his son's son, a child of four years old, it was secured, in such a way, as to leave to himself no power of providing for those who were most dear to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge on the estate, or by any sale of its valuable woods. The whole was tied up for the benefit of this child, who, in occasional visits with his father and mother at Norland, had so far gained on the affections of his uncle, by such attractions as are by no means unusual in children of two or three years old; an imperfect articulation, an earnest desire of having his own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of noise, as to outweigh all the value of all the attention which, for years, he had received from his niece and her daughters. He meant not to be unkind, however, and, as a mark of his affection for the three girls, he left them a thousand pounds a-piece. Mr. Dashwood's disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper was cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many years, and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the produce of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate improvement. But the fortune, which had been so tardy in coming, was his only one twelvemonth. He survived his uncle no longer; and ten thousand pounds, including the late legacies, was all that remained for his widow and daughters. His son was sent for as soon as his danger was known, and to him Mr. Dashwood recommended, with all the strength and urgency which illness could command, the interest of his mother-in-law and sisters. Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the rest of the family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make them comfortable. His father was rendered easy by such an assurance, and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how much there might prudently be in his power to do for them. He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold hearted and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, he might have been made still more respectable than he was:--he might even have been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature of himself;-more narrow-minded and selfish. When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to increase the fortunes of his sisters

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by the present of a thousand pounds a-piece. He then really thought himself equal to it. The prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, warmed his heart, and made him feel capable of generosity.-"Yes, he would give them three thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would be enough to make them completely easy. Three thousand pounds! he could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience."-He thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did not repent. No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood, without sending any notice of her intention to her mother-in-law, arrived with her child and their attendants. No one could dispute her right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only common feelings, must have been highly unpleasing;-but in HER mind there was a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any offence of the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a source of immoveable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a favourite with any of her husband's family; but she had had no opportunity, till the present, of shewing them with how little attention to the comfort of other people she could act when occasion required it. So acutely did Mrs. Dashwood feel this ungracious behaviour, and so earnestly did she despise her daughter-in-law for it, that, on the arrival of the latter, she would have quitted the house for ever, had not the entreaty of her eldest girl induced her first to reflect on the propriety of going, and her own tender love for all her three children determined her afterwards to stay, and for their sakes avoid a breach with their brother. Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led to imprudence. She had an excellent heart;--her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught. Marianne's abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor's. She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent. The resemblance between her and her mother was strikingly great.

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Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued and cherished. They encouraged each other now in the violence of their affliction. The agony of grief which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future. Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could struggle, she could exert herself. She could consult with her brother, could receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with proper attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance. Margaret, the other sister, was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; but as she had already imbibed a good deal of Marianne's romance, without having much of her sense, she did not, at thirteen, bid fair to equal her sisters at a more advanced period of life.


Mrs. John Dashwood now installed herself mistress of Norland; and her mother and sisters-in-law were degraded to the condition of visitors. As such, however, they were treated by her with quiet civility; and by her husband with as much kindness as he could feel towards anybody beyond himself, his wife, and their child. He really pressed them, with some earnestness, to consider Norland as their home; and, as no plan appeared so eligible to Mrs. Dashwood as remaining there till she could accommodate herself with a house in the neighbourhood, his invitation was accepted. A continuance in a place where everything reminded her of former delight, was exactly what suited her mind. In seasons of cheerfulness, no temper could be more cheerful than hers, or possess, in a greater degree, that sanguine expectation of happiness which is happiness itself. But in sorrow she must be equally carried away by her fancy, and as far beyond consolation as in pleasure she was beyond alloy. Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her husband intended to do for his sisters. To take three thousand pounds from the fortune of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him to the most dreadful degree. She begged him to think again on the subject. How could he answer it to himself to rob his child, and his only child too, of so large a sum? And what possible claim could the Miss Dashwoods, who were related to him only by half blood, which she considered as no relationship at all,

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He could hardly suppose I should neglect them. on such occasions. Perhaps it would have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself. and must be performed." Get any book for free on: www. If.Abika." she added. by giving away all his money to his half sisters? "It was my father's last request to me." replied her . if the sum were diminished one half. and make their situation more comfortable than it was in his power to do. then. to assist them. in general terms.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 6 have on his generosity to so large an amount. The time may come when Harry will regret that so large a sum was parted with. Something must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and settle in a new home. it would be a very convenient addition. indeed." "He did not stipulate for any particular sum. Your sisters will marry. even if REALLY his sisters! And as it is--only half blood!--But you have such a generous spirit!" "I would not wish to do any thing mean. "that would make great difference. and their poor little Harry. he could not have thought of such a thing as begging you to give away half your fortune from your own child. LET something be done for them." he replied. do too much than too little. it never can return. to be sure. then. and it will be gone for ever. "that when the money is once parted with. my dear Fanny. but THAT something need not be three thousand pounds. can think I have not done enough for them: even themselves. was given. and why was he to ruin himself." "Perhaps. it would be better for all parties." "Well." said her husband. for instance. at least I thought so at the time. they can hardly expect more. at least. If he should have a numerous family. he only requested me. ten to one but he was light-headed at the time." "To be sure it would. therefore. No one.--Five hundred pounds would be a prodigious increase to their fortunes!" "Oh! beyond anything great! What brother on earth would do half so much for his sisters. But as he required the promise. I could not do less than give it. it could be restored to our poor little boy--" "Why. "that I should assist his widow and daughters. I dare say. "One had rather. Had he been in his right senses. Consider." "He did not know what he was talking of. The promise. It was very well known that no affection was ever supposed to exist between the children of any man by different marriages. very gravely.

I do not know whether. Dashwood should live fifteen years we shall be completely taken in. that I am sure I would not pin myself down to the payment of one for all the world." said she. and then one of them was said to have died. if . because. then. My mother was quite sick of it. it comes over and over every year." "That is very true.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 7 "There is no knowing what THEY may expect." replied Mr. "it is better than parting with fifteen hundred pounds at once. I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities. It has given me such an abhorrence of annuities." "Certainly not. but if you observe. Dashwood. they may all live very comfortably together on the interest of ten thousand pounds. and if they do not. with such perpetual claims on it. her life cannot be worth half that purchase. however. If they marry." "It is certainly an unpleasant thing." said the lady. Her income was not her own. she said. As it is. it would not be more advisable to do something for their mother while she lives. what you can afford to do. "but we are not to think of their expectations: the question is. and there is no getting rid of it. and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. An annuity is a very serious business. They will have ten thousand pounds divided amongst them. for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father's will. it strikes me that they can want no addition at all. Get any book for free on: www. therefore. rather than for them--something of the annuity kind I mean. and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. people always live for ever when there is an annuity to be paid them." His wife hesitated a little. A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable. You are not aware of what you are doing. and it was the more unkind in my father. and then there was the trouble of getting it to them. without any restriction whatever. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid. otherwise. upon the whole. they will be sure of doing well. without any addition of mine. "To be sure. in giving her consent to this plan. and. and hardly forty. the money would have been entirely at my mother's disposal. and. they will each have about three thousand pounds on their mother's death--a very comfortable fortune for any young woman. and she is very stout and healthy." "To be sure it is." "Certainly--and I think I may afford to give them five hundred pounds a-piece. indeed.--My sisters would feel the good effects of it as well as herself." "Fifteen years! my dear Fanny. But.

they will pay their mother for their board out of it. my love. and it raises no gratitude at all. it will be better that there should by no annuity in the case. which brings them in fifty pounds a year a-piece. now and then." "I believe you are right. "I believe you are perfectly right. and would not be sixpence the richer for it at the end of the year. My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than what you say. I would not bind myself to allow them any thing yearly. they will keep no company. to say the truth. and what on earth can four women want for more than that?--They will live so cheap! Their housekeeping will be nothing at all. I think. and I will strictly fulfil my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness Get any book for free on: www. They will have no carriage. besides the thousand pounds belonging to each of the girls. The assistance he thought of. or even fifty pounds from our own expenses. It may be very inconvenient some years to spare a hundred. A present of fifty pounds. Do but consider.Abika. Dashwood. Indeed. and sending them presents of fish and game. Dashwood. They will be much more able to give YOU something. because they would only enlarge their style of living if they felt sure of a larger income. I am convinced within myself that your father had no idea of your giving them any money at all. is by no means desirable: it takes away one's independence. it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did. will prevent their ever being distressed for money. be amply discharging my promise to my father." said Mr. I dare say. they will have five hundred a-year amongst them. One's fortune. and hardly any servants. was only such as might be reasonably expected of you. of course.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 8 "to have those kind of yearly drains on one's income. and so forth. such as looking out for a comfortable small house for them." "Undoubtedly." "Upon my word. whatever I may give them occasionally will be of far greater assistance than a yearly allowance. it is quite absurd to think of it. and will." "To be sure it will. whatever I did should be done at my own discretion entirely. on every rent day. and can have no expenses of any kind! Only conceive how comfortable they will be! Five hundred a year! I am sure I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it. and. whenever they are in season. I clearly understand it now. how excessively comfortable your mother-in-law and her daughters may live on the interest of seven thousand pounds. Altogether. helping them to move their things. and after all you have no thanks for it. no horses. for instance. indeed. and as to your giving them more. I'll lay my life that he meant nothing . They think themselves secure. If I were you. you do no more than what is expected. To be tied down to the regular payment of such a sum. is NOT one's own. It will certainly be much the best way. my dear Mr. as your mother justly says.

and indefatigable in her inquiries for a suitable dwelling in the neighbourhood of Norland. Your father thought only of THEM. for any place THEY can ever afford to live in. and is now left to your mother. she was impatient to be gone. and linen was saved. . for when her spirits began to revive." "That is a material consideration undoubtedly. Her house will therefore be almost completely fitted up as soon as she takes it." "Certainly. though the furniture of Stanhill was sold. in my opinion. to do more for the widow and children of his father. ONE thing must be considered. Some little present of furniture too may be acceptable then. And I must say this: that you owe no particular gratitude to him. But. and the set of breakfast china is twice as handsome as what belongs to this house. Dashwood had been informed by her husband of the solemn promise on the part of his son in their favour. John Dashwood. not from any disinclination to move when the sight of every well known spot ceased to raise the violent emotion which it produced for a while.Abika. "But. for to remove far from that beloved spot was impossible. however. CHAPTER 3 Mrs. When your father and mother moved to Norland. A valuable legacy indeed! And yet some of the plate would have been a very pleasant addition to our own stock here. than such kind of neighbourly acts as his own wife pointed out. whose steadier judgment rejected several houses as too large for their income. She doubted the sincerity of this assurance no more than he had doubted it himself. and he finally resolved. if not highly indecorous. plate." returned Mrs. A great deal too handsome. and suited the prudence of her eldest daughter. all the china. so it is. nor attention to his wishes." This argument was irresistible.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 9 to them as you have described. for we very well know that if he could. and she thought of it for her daughters' Get any book for free on: www." "Yes. which gave comfort to his last earthly reflections. that it would be absolutely unnecessary. however. When my mother removes into another house my services shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can. and her mind became capable of some other exertion than that of heightening its affliction by melancholy remembrances. he would have left almost everything in the world to THEM. which her mother would have approved. But she could hear of no situation that at once answered her notions of comfort and ease. Dashwood remained at Norland several months. It gave to his intentions whatever of decision was wanting before.

too. Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of interest. They wanted him to make a fine figure in the world in some manner or other. for the sake of his own heart. Dashwood. and that Elinor's merit should not be acknowledged by every one who knew her. for. according to the opinions of Mrs. who longed to see him distinguished--as--they hardly knew what. But Mrs. the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother. He was not handsome. very early in their acquaintance. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either consideration. The contempt which she had.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 10 sake with satisfaction. but when his natural shyness was overcome. or to see him connected with some of the great men of the day. and his education had given it solid improvement. Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good opinion by any peculiar graces of person or address. and that Elinor returned the partiality. His understanding was good. His mother wished to interest him in political concerns. affectionate heart. felt for her daughter-in-law. John . the two ladies might have found it impossible to have lived together so long. she firmly relied on the liberality of his intentions. He was too diffident to do justice to himself. It was contrary to every doctrine of her's that difference of fortune should keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of disposition. except a trifling sum. and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence. a gentleman-like and pleasing young man. had not a particular circumstance occurred to give still greater eligibility. for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died very rich. was very much increased by the farther knowledge of her character. and his manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. This circumstance was a growing attachment between her eldest girl and the brother of Mrs. though as for herself she was persuaded that a much smaller provision than 7000L would support her in affluence. she rejoiced. was to her comprehension impossible. and who had since spent the greatest part of his time there. to get him into parliament. and she reproached herself for being unjust to his merit before. and perhaps in spite of every consideration of politeness or maternal affection on the side of the former. who was introduced to their acquaintance soon after his sister's establishment at Norland. to her daughters' continuance at Norland. which half a year's residence in her family afforded. his behaviour gave every indication of an open. It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable. For their brother's sake. His attentive behaviour to herself and his sisters convinced her that their welfare was dear to him. in believing him incapable of generosity. for a long time. that he loved her daughter. But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to answer the wishes of his mother and sister. and. Get any book for free on: www.Abika.

Dashwood now took pains to get acquainted with him. by a reflection which Elinor chanced one day to make on the difference between him and his sister.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 11 Mrs." said she." "Oh! Mamma." "I think you will like him." said she. Fortunately he had a younger brother who was more promising. "I feel no sentiment of approbation inferior to love. Her manners were attaching. She speedily comprehended all his merits. and looked forward to their marriage as rapidly . Get any book for free on: www. Edward had been staying several weeks in the house before he engaged much of Mrs. in all probability be settled for life. at that time.Abika. which militated against all her established ideas of what a young man's address ought to be. till one of these superior blessings could be attained. "It is enough. and she liked him for it. "Elinor will. but in the mean while. for she was. We shall miss her. It implies everything amiable. but SHE will be happy. was no longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm and his temper affectionate. No sooner did she perceive any symptom of love in his behaviour to Elinor. John Dashwood wished it likewise. It was a contrast which recommended him most forcibly to her mother." Mrs. it will be scarcely a separation." "You may esteem him. "In a few months. the persuasion of his regard for Elinor perhaps assisted her penetration. my dear Marianne. He did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed conversation. All his wishes centered in domestic comfort and the quiet of private life." "I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love. but she really felt assured of his worth: and even that quietness of manner. "when you know more of him." "Like him!" replied her mother with a smile. I love him already. how shall we do without her?" "My love. and soon banished his reserve. in such affliction as rendered her careless of surrounding objects. "to say that he is unlike Fanny is enough." said Elinor. it would have quieted her ambition to see him driving a barouche. She saw only that he was quiet and unobtrusive. Dashwood's attention. than she considered their serious attachment as certain. But Edward had no turn for great men or barouches. She was first called to observe and approve him farther.

it has none of that grace which I should expect in the man who could seriously attach my sister. if he is not to be animated by Cowper!-but we must allow for difference of taste. the more I know of the world. that you are not seventeen. those characters must be united. affectionate brother. a real. that fire. Oh! mama. and his person and manners must ornament his goodness with every possible charm. and though he admires Elinor's drawings very much. such dreadful indifference!"-"He would certainly have done more justice to simple and elegant prose. she seemed scarcely to notice it." "Remember. the same books. Edward is very amiable. how spiritless. To hear those beautiful lines which have frequently almost driven me wild. It is yet too early in life to despair of such a happiness. my Marianne. the more am I convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. my love. You will gain a brother. But it would have broke MY heart. that in fact he knows nothing of the matter.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 12 We shall live within a few miles of each other.Abika. Why should you be less fortunate than your mother? In one circumstance only. do you disapprove your sister's choice?" "Perhaps. I thought so at the time. and therefore she may overlook it. pronounced with such impenetrable calmness. but you WOULD give him Cowper. Mamma. it is not the admiration of a person who can understand their worth. I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every point coincide with my own. the same music must charm us both. and be happy with him. and I love him tenderly. he has no real taste. And besides all this. He admires as a lover. I could hardly keep my seat. had I loved him. To satisfy me. It is evident. But you look grave. Yet she bore it with so much composure. Music seems scarcely to attract him. I have the highest opinion in the world of Edward's heart. how tame was Edward's manner in reading to us last night! I felt for my sister most severely. and shall meet every day of our lives." said Marianne. Elinor has not my feelings. Marianne. "I may consider it with some surprise. in spite of his frequent attention to her while she draws. Mamma. He must enter into all my feelings. I require so much! He must have all Edward's virtues. to hear him read with so little sensibility. which at once announce virtue and intelligence. not as a connoisseur. may your destiny be different from her's!" CHAPTER 4 Get any book for free on: www. But yet--he is not the kind of young man--there is something wanting--his figure is not . I am afraid. Mama." "Nay. His eyes want all that spirit.

be in doubt." Marianne was afraid of offending. At length she replied: "Do not be offended. "Of his sense and his goodness. "I hope." said Marianne. I have not had so many opportunities of estimating the minuter propensities of his mind. "that his dearest friends could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that." "No taste for drawing!" replied Elinor. You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth. indeed. Elinor." Marianne hardly knew what to say. I think he would have drawn very well. "no one can. Get any book for free on: www. "that Edward should have no taste for drawing. She would not wound the feelings of her sister on any account. He distrusts his own judgment in such matters so much. I think I may say that you cannot. "you do not consider him as deficient in general taste. in her opinion. I do not perceive how you could express yourself more warmly." continued Elinor. Had he ever been in the way of learning. but the kind of approbation which Elinor described as excited in him by the drawings of other people. "why should you think so? He does not draw himself. Indeed. and yet to say what she did not believe was impossible. that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on any picture. I think. but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste. his inclinations and tastes. and if THAT were your opinion. Elinor. though he has not had opportunities of improving it." continued Elinor. with a smile. who has seen him often enough to engage him in unreserved conversation." Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased. Yet. and I assure you he is by no means deficient in natural taste. for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial. she honoured her sister for that blind partiality to Edward which produced it. But of his minuter propensities. if my praise of him is not in every thing equal to your sense of his merits. The excellence of his understanding and his principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps him silent. was very far from that rapturous delight. and said no more on the subject. but he has great pleasure in seeing the performances of other people. which.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 13 "What a pity it is." "I am sure." replied Elinor. could alone be called taste. but I have the highest opinion in the world of his goodness and .Abika. as you have. I think him every thing that is worthy and amiable. I am sure you could never be civil to him. Marianne. which in general direct him perfectly right. though smiling within herself at the mistake.

There are moments when the extent of it seems doubtful.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 14 as you call them you have from peculiar circumstances been kept more ignorant than myself. and I will leave the room this moment. or at least. to be such as his merit. to wish was to hope. that I think him really handsome. What say you. At first sight. without imprudence or folly. Believe them to be stronger than I have . In my heart Get any book for free on: www. But farther than this you must not believe. which are uncommonly good." said she. I am by no means assured of his regard for me. have studied his sentiments and heard his opinion on subjects of literature and taste.Abika. enjoyment of books exceedingly great. I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed. She knew that what Marianne and her mother conjectured one moment." Marianne here burst forth with indignation-"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. his address is certainly not striking. and. She felt that Edward stood very high in her opinion. When you tell me to love him as a brother. She tried to explain the real state of the case to her sister. and to hope was to expect. of my own feelings. in short. believe them. I know him so well. upon the whole. till the expression of his eyes. than I now do in his heart. if I do not now. you cannot wonder at my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own partiality." Elinor started at this declaration. in speaking of him. is perceived. and till his sentiments are fully known. Marianne?" "I shall very soon think him handsome. almost so. and was sorry for the warmth she had been betrayed into. that I like him. by believing or calling it more than it is. and the suspicion--the hope of his affection for me may warrant. "Excuse me. and his taste delicate and pure. "that I think very highly of him--that I greatly esteem. He and I have been at times thrown a good deal together. in so quiet a way. "and be assured that I meant no offence to you. while you have been wholly engrossed on the most affectionate principle by my mother. "I do not attempt to deny. his observation just and correct. She believed the regard to be mutual." Elinor could not help laughing. Use those words again. and the general sweetness of his countenance. His abilities in every respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person. I shall no more see imperfection in his face. I have seen a great deal of him. his imagination lively. Elinor. by speaking. At present. they believed the next--that with them. and his person can hardly be called handsome." said she. but she required greater certainty of it to make Marianne's conviction of their attachment agreeable to her.

Oh! if he should be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to draw himself. Get any book for free on: www. A more reasonable cause might be found in the dependent situation which forbad the indulgence of his affection. from Fanny's occasional mention of her conduct and opinions. She was far from depending on that result of his preference of her.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 15 I feel little--scarcely any doubt of his preference. She knew that his mother neither behaved to him so as to make his home comfortable at present. but. supposing him to feel it. that Mrs. Nay. Dashwood could neither pretend to be unconscious. He is very far from being independent. nor endeavor to be calm. She gave her an answer which marked her contempt. nor to give him any assurance that he might form a home for himself. a want of spirits about him which. need not give him more than inquietude. and of the danger attending any young woman who attempted to DRAW HIM IN. which her mother and sister still considered as certain. It would not be likely to produce that dejection of mind which frequently attended ." Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother and herself had outstripped the truth. at times. Ferrars's resolution that both her sons should marry well. if it did not denote indifference. it was enough. and sometimes.) to make her uncivil. she believed it to be no more than friendship. "And you really are not engaged to him!" said she. for a few painful minutes. when perceived by his sister. "Yet it certainly soon will happen. we have never been disposed to think her amiable. spoke a something almost as unpromising. it was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on the subject. She took the first opportunity of affronting her mother-in-law on the occasion.Abika. She could not consider her partiality for Edward in so prosperous a state as Marianne had believed it. and I am very much mistaken if Edward is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in his way. of Mrs. talking to her so expressively of her brother's great expectations. But two advantages will proceed from this delay. But. whatever might really be its limits. and at the same time. and Edward will have greater opportunity of improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. to make her uneasy. how delightful it would be!" Elinor had given her real opinion to her sister. There was. With such a knowledge as this. the longer they were together the more doubtful seemed the nature of his regard. A doubt of her regard. without strictly attending to her views for his aggrandizement. What his mother really is we cannot know. if he were to wish to marry a woman who had not either a great fortune or high rank. I shall not lose you so soon. (which was still more common. But there are other points to be considered besides his inclination.

but a few hours before. therefore. therefore. and written in the true spirit of friendly accommodation. from whence she might judge.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 16 and instantly left the room. whatever might be the inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal. was on so simple a scale. The situation of Barton. to come with her daughters to Barton Park. resolving that. He earnestly pressed her. It was the offer of a small house. though it was not a plan which brought any charm to her fancy. as to leave her no right of objection on either point. than immediately amongst their present acquaintance. for the houses were in the same parish. it was a blessing. Get any book for free on: www. she made no attempt to dissuade her mother from sending a letter of acquiescence. on very easy terms. Elinor had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle at some distance from Norland. would have been a sufficient objection to outweigh every possible advantage belonging to the place. In this state of her spirits. She instantly wrote Sir John Middleton her acknowledgment of his kindness. if the situation pleased her. more especially at a moment when she was suffering under the cold and unfeeling behaviour of her nearer connections. She needed no time for deliberation or inquiry. it was an object of desire. and her acceptance of his . and though the house he now offered her was merely a cottage. though it was a removal from the vicinity of Norland beyond her wishes. a letter was delivered to her from the post. could. and to remove for ever from that beloved place would be less painful than to inhabit or visit it while such a woman was its mistress. He seemed really anxious to accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written in so friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure to his cousin. Her resolution was formed as she read. On THAT head.Abika. in a county so far distant from Sussex as Devonshire. after giving the particulars of the house and garden. the place of his own residence. he assured her that everything should be done to it which she might think necessary. herself. belonging to a relation of her own. The letter was from this gentleman himself. in comparison of the misery of continuing her daughter-in-law's guest. which contained a proposal particularly well timed. He understood that she was in need of a dwelling. whether Barton Cottage. it was not for her to oppose her mother's intention of removing into Devonshire. by any alteration. that she might be secure of their approbation before her answer were sent. which. a gentleman of consequence and property in Devonshire. and then hastened to shew both letters to her daughters. and. and the rent so uncommonly moderate. as described by Sir John. be made comfortable to her. was now its first recommendation. too. her beloved Elinor should not be exposed another week to such insinuations. To quit the neighbourhood of Norland was no longer an evil. The house.

com . going there? So far from hence! And to what part of it?" She explained the situation. She had great satisfaction in replying that she was going into Devonshire. John Dashwood to visit her at Barton. Mrs. and Mrs. John Dashwood told his mother again and again how exceedingly sorry he was that she had taken a house at such a distance from Norland as to prevent his being of any service to her in removing her furniture. "It is but a cottage. how totally she disregarded her disapprobation of the match. and to Edward she gave one with still greater affection. and she wished to show Mrs. He really felt conscientiously vexed on the occasion. and should incommode them no longer than till every thing were ready for her inhabiting it. and she Get any book for free on: www. Dashwood took the house for a twelvemonth.-The furniture was all sent around by water. No difficulty arose on either side in the agreement. and books.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 17 CHAPTER 5 No sooner was her answer dispatched. They heard her with surprise. Mrs. in a voice of surprise and concern. it was ready furnished. John Dashwood saw the packages depart with a sigh: she could not help feeling it hard that as Mrs. repeated. Dashwood's income would be so trifling in comparison with their own. for the very exertion to which he had limited the performance of his promise to his father was by this arrangement rendered impracticable. It was within four miles northward of Exeter.Abika. "Devonshire! Are you. it had not produced the smallest effect on her in that point to which it principally tended. John Dashwood said nothing. A room or two can easily be added. To separate Edward and Elinor was as far from being her object as ever. and. Mrs. Mr. and she might have immediate possession." she continued. with a handsome pianoforte of Marianne's. "but I hope to see many of my friends in it. plate. and if my friends find no difficulty in travelling so far to see me. by this pointed invitation to her brother. on hearing this. Though her late conversation with her daughter-in-law had made her resolve on remaining at Norland no longer than was unavoidable. Dashwood indulged herself in the pleasure of announcing to her son-in-law and his wife that she was provided with a house." She concluded with a very kind invitation to Mr. she should have any handsome article of furniture. I am sure I will find none in accommodating them. indeed. but her husband civilly hoped that she would not be settled far from Norland.--Edward turned hastily towards her. than Mrs. which required no explanation to her. china. John Dashwood. It chiefly consisted of household linen.

from whence perhaps I may view you no more!--And you. she would have kept it. and she relied so undoubtingly on Sir John's description of the house. that he seemed rather to stand in need of more money himself than to have any design of giving money away. she preferred going directly to the cottage to being a visitor at Barton Park. for as Lady Middleton was entirely unknown to Mrs. Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so much beloved. to prepare the house for their mistress's arrival. which a man of any consequence in the world was beyond calculation exposed to. every thing was so far settled in their future abode as to enable Mrs. HER wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three. as to feel no curiosity to examine it herself till she entered it as her own. as she was exceedingly rapid in the performance of everything that interested her. and an opportunity now offering of disposing of her carriage. Dashwood and her daughters to begin their journey. from the general drift of his discourse. had she consulted only her own wishes. that his assistance extended no farther than their maintenance for six months at Norland. Dashwood began shortly to give over every hope of the kind.Abika. and to be convinced. He so frequently talked of the increasing expenses of housekeeping. and this. before she set off for the west. ye well-known trees!--but you Get any book for free on: www. Dashwood. as she wandered alone before the house. Now was the time when her son-in-law's promise to his father might with particular propriety be fulfilled.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 18 waited only for the disposal of her effects at Norland.--The horses which were left her by her husband had been sold soon after his death. Her eagerness to be gone from Norland was preserved from diminution by the evident satisfaction of her daughter-in-law in the prospect of her removal. she agreed to sell that likewise at the earnest advice of her eldest daughter. was soon done. their quitting his house might be looked on as the most suitable period for its accomplishment. "when shall I cease to regret you!--when learn to feel a home elsewhere!--Oh! happy house. dear Norland!" said Marianne. For the comfort of her children. In a very few weeks from the day which brought Sir John Middleton's first letter to Norland. But Mrs. but the discretion of Elinor prevailed. on the last evening of their being there. could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot. "Dear. two maids and a man. with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. a satisfaction which was but feebly attempted to be concealed under a cold invitation to her to defer her . and to determine her future household. Since he had neglected to do it on first coming to the estate. The man and one of the maids were sent off immediately into Devonshire. and of the perpetual demands upon his purse.

High hills rose immediately behind. Get any book for free on: www. and formed a pleasant view from the cottage windows. A narrow passage led directly through the house into the garden behind. their interest in the appearance of a country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection. and reached into the country beyond.Abika. Barton Cottage. well wooded. It had not been built many years and was in good repair. nor were the walls covered with honeysuckles. It was very early in . nor any branch become motionless although we can observe you no longer!--No. and in another course. they reached their own house.--No leaf will decay because we are removed. and rich in pasture. But as they drew towards the end of it. and a neat wicket gate admitted them into it. Four bed-rooms and two garrets formed the rest of the house. the others cultivated and woody. but as a cottage it was defective. and beyond them were the offices and the stairs. though small. and a view of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. The village of Barton was chiefly on one of these hills. The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated the valley in that direction. and at no great distance on each side. The prospect in front was more extensive. under another name. As a house. you will continue the same. they received an impression in its favour which was of material service in recommending it to their lasting approbation. some of which were open downs. and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear happy. A small green court was the whole of its demesne in front. the roof was tiled. it was poor and small indeed!--but the tears which recollection called forth as they entered the house were soon dried away. the window shutters were not painted green. and from first seeing the place under the advantage of good weather. was comfortable and compact. the season was fine.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 19 will continue the same. unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion. They were cheered by the joy of the servants on their arrival. The situation of the house was good. and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade!--But who will remain to enjoy you?" CHAPTER 6 The first part of their journey was performed in too melancholy a disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant. In comparison of Norland. On each side of the entrance was a sitting room. It was a pleasant fertile spot. about sixteen feet square. it commanded the whole of the valley. for the building was regular. After winding along it for more than a mile. it branched out again between two of the steepest of them.

moreover. Dashwood was upon the whole well satisfied.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 20 With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. which was followed before the end of the day by a present of game. But one must not expect every thing. to be sure. and a bed-chamber and garret above. Perhaps in the spring. I could wish the stairs were handsome. till all these alterations could be made from the savings of an income of five hundred a-year by a woman who never saved in her life. "As for the house itself. He had formerly visited at Stanhill. though I suppose it would be no difficult matter to widen them. a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit arrived from the park. and their comfort to be an object of real solicitude to him. and Elinor's drawings were affixed to the walls of their sitting room. but we will make ourselves tolerably comfortable for the present. they were wise enough to be contented with the house as it was. if I have plenty of money. on conveying all their Get any book for free on: www. His countenance was thoroughly good-humoured. and she had at this time ready money enough to supply all that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments." said she. and each of them was busy in arranging their particular concerns. Their arrival seemed to afford him real satisfaction. that. and so leave the remainder of that other for an entrance. as it is too late in the year for improvements." In the mean time. Marianne's pianoforte was unpacked and properly disposed of. In such employments as these they were interrupted soon after breakfast the next day by the entrance of their landlord. "it is too small for our . and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter. will make it a very snug little cottage. for within an hour after he left them. I shall see how much I am before-hand with the world in the spring. they could not give offence. by placing around them books and other possessions. Sir John Middleton was a good looking man about forty. as I dare say I shall. though his entreaties were carried to a point of perseverance beyond civility. These parlors are both too small for such parties of our friends as I hope to see often collected here. He insisted. and endeavoring. and we will plan our improvements accordingly.Abika. and I have some thoughts of throwing the passage into one of them with perhaps a part of the other. and to offer them every accommodation from his own house and garden in which theirs might at present be deficient. for though her former style of life rendered many additions to the latter indispensable. and pressed them so cordially to dine at Barton Park every day till they were better settled at home. He said much of his earnest desire of their living in the most sociable terms with his family. His kindness was not confined to words. but it was too long for his young cousins to remember him. we may think about building. with a new drawing room which may be easily added. yet to add and improve was a delight to her. who called to welcome them to Barton. this. to form themselves a home.

to the great surprise of her ladyship. for of course every body differed. and her address graceful. for they had to enquire his name and age. Dashwood as soon as she could be assured that her visit would be no inconvenience. But they would have been improved by some share of his frankness and warmth. she was reserved. The former was for Sir John's gratification. On every formal visit a child ought to be of the party. though perfectly well-bred. An opportunity was soon to be given to the Dashwoods of debating on the rest of the children. as Sir John would not leave the house without securing their promise of dining at the park the next day. Her manners had all the elegance which her husband's . and Lady Middleton had taken the wise precaution of bringing with her their eldest child. while he hung about her and held down his head. and every body was astonished at the opinion of the others. and as this message was answered by an invitation equally polite. and the elegance of her appearance was favourable to their wishes. In the present case it took up ten minutes to determine whether the boy were most like his father or mother. The ladies had passed near it in their way along the valley.Abika. very anxious to see a person on whom so much of their comfort at Barton must depend. Lady Middleton had sent a very civil message by him. and ask him questions which his mother answered for him. Conversation however was not wanted. who wondered at his being so shy before company. admire his beauty. and had nothing to say for herself beyond the most common-place inquiry or remark. her figure tall and striking. but it was screened from their view at home by the projection of a hill. CHAPTER 7 Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. her face was handsome. as he could make noise enough at home. Lady Middleton was not more than six or seven and twenty. and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality and elegance. by which means there was one subject always to be recurred to by the ladies in case of extremity. The house was large and handsome. cold. by shewing that. and her visit was long enough to detract something from their first admiration. denoting her intention of waiting on Mrs. They were. of course. for Sir John was very chatty. and would not be denied the satisfaction of sending them his newspaper every day. Get any book for free on: www. by way of provision for discourse. a fine little boy about six years old. and in what particular he resembled either.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 21 letters to and from the post for them. her ladyship was introduced to them the next day.

he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman. Lady Middleton a mother. within a very narrow compass. In showing kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction of a good heart. and in settling a family of females only in his cottage. They would see. It was enough to secure his good opinion. they strongly resembled each other in that total want of talent and taste which confined their employments. Lady Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all the year round. unconnected with such as society produced. The friendliness of his disposition made him happy in accommodating those. But Sir John's satisfaction in society was much more real. though he esteems only those of his sex who are sportsmen likewise. for a sportsman. The Miss Dashwoods were young. while Sir John's independent employments were in existence only half the time. and they kept more company of every kind than any other family in the neighbourhood. who welcomed them to Barton Park with unaffected sincerity. for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could want to make her mind as captivating as her person. supported the good spirits of Sir John. and from this kind of vanity was her greatest enjoyment in any of their parties. is not often desirous of encouraging their taste by admitting them to a residence within his own manor. and of all her domestic arrangements. and in every point of view he was charmed with the inhabitants he had now procured for his cottage at Barton. and as he attended them to the drawing room repeated to the young ladies the concern which the same subject had drawn from him the day before. It was necessary to the happiness of both. and she humoured her children. however. whose situation might be considered. Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance of her table. in comparison with the past. and unaffected. He was a blessing to all the juvenile part of the neighbourhood. They were scarcely ever without some friends staying with them in the house. as unfortunate.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 22 the latter for that of his lady. and gave exercise to the good breeding of his . pretty. Continual engagements at home and abroad. only one gentleman there besides himself. and these were their only resources. He hunted and shot. and in winter his private balls were numerous enough for any young lady who was not suffering under the unsatiable appetite of fifteen. at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them. Sir John was a sportsman. a particular friend who was staying at Get any book for free on: www. The arrival of a new family in the country was always a matter of joy to him. Mrs. he delighted in collecting about him more young people than his house would hold. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door of the house by Sir John. for however dissimilar in temper and outward behaviour.Abika. supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education. he said. and the noisier they were the better was he pleased. for in summer he was for ever forming parties to eat cold ham and chicken out of doors.

and turned her eyes towards Elinor to see how she bore these attacks. and Marianne. fat. Marianne was vexed at it for her sister's sake. The instrument was unlocked. and could assure them it should never happen so again. with an earnestness which gave Elinor far more pain than could arise from such common-place raillery as Mrs. and as she was a very cheerful agreeable woman. The young ladies. as Marianne was discovered to be musical. but though his face was not handsome. at their request went through the chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into the family on her marriage. seemed very happy. every body prepared to be charmed. in spite of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old bachelor. he hoped the young ladies would not find it so very dull as they might imagine. Jennings. Colonel . elderly woman. as well as their mother. than Lady Middleton was to be his wife. but who was neither very young nor very gay. There was nothing in any of the party which could recommend them as companions to the Dashwoods. seemed no more adapted by resemblance of manner to be his friend. but it was moonlight and every body was full of engagements. and put an end to every kind of discourse except what related to themselves. Lady Middleton's mother. merry. was a good-humoured.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 23 the park. she had Get any book for free on: www. who talked a great deal. and wished for no more.Abika. who pulled her about. His appearance however was not unpleasing. but the cold insipidity of Lady Middleton was so particularly repulsive. and his address was particularly gentlemanlike. and rather vulgar. his countenance was sensible. Jennings to be Lady Middleton's mother. He had been to several families that morning in hopes of procuring some addition to their number. Jennings's. He was silent and grave. and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his mother-in-law was interesting. Lady Middleton seemed to be roused to enjoyment only by the entrance of her four noisy children after dinner. the friend of Sir John. were perfectly satisfied with having two entire strangers of the party. although by her mother's account. and which perhaps had lain ever since in the same position on the pianoforte. She was full of jokes and laughter. and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not. In the evening. or Mrs. tore her clothes. for her ladyship had celebrated that event by giving up music. Mrs. who sang very well. hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex. she was invited to play. Luckily Lady Middleton's mother had arrived at Barton within the last hour. that in comparison of it the gravity of Colonel Brandon. and before dinner was over had said many witty things on the subject of lovers and husbands. He hoped they would all excuse the smallness of the party. for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty.

as far as her ability reached. Lady Middleton frequently called him to order.Abika. Marianne's performance was highly applauded. She had only two daughters. Jennings was a widow with an ample jointure. Jennings had been anxious to see Colonel Brandon well married. ever since her connection with Sir John first brought him to her knowledge. on the very first evening of their being together. Colonel Brandon alone. and missed no opportunity of projecting weddings among all the young people of her acquaintance. and she was always anxious to get a good husband for every pretty girl. She was perfectly disposed to make every allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life which humanity required. wondered how any one's attention could be diverted from music for a moment. for HE was rich. His pleasure in music. She was perfectly convinced of it. was estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of the others. He paid her only the compliment of attention. In the promotion of this object she was zealously active. which the others had reasonably forfeited by their shameless want of taste. Mrs. from his listening so attentively while she sang to them. though it amounted not to that ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own. and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five and thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and every exquisite power of enjoyment. and by her own was very fond of it. and SHE was . both of whom she had lived to see respectably married. CHAPTER 8 Mrs. and she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the world. It would be an excellent match. She rather suspected it to be so. and when the visit was returned by the Middletons' dining at the cottage. It must be so. of all the party. and had enjoyed the advantage of raising the blushes and the vanity of many a young lady by insinuations of her power over such a young man. for it supplied her with endless jokes Get any book for free on: www. Sir John was loud in his admiration at the end of every song. and as loud in his conversation with the others while every song lasted. and asked Marianne to sing a particular song which Marianne had just finished. heard her without being in raptures. The immediate advantage to herself was by no means inconsiderable. and she felt a respect for him on the occasion. She was remarkably quick in the discovery of attachments. and this kind of discernment enabled her soon after her arrival at Barton decisively to pronounce that Colonel Brandon was very much in love with Marianne Dashwood. the fact was ascertained by his listening to her again.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 24 played extremely well.

and it must seem to you a miracle that my life has been extended to the advanced age of forty. and if her home be uncomfortable. It is too ridiculous! When is a man to be safe from such wit. "thirty-five and seventeen had better not have any thing to do with matrimony together. she hardly knew whether most to laugh at its absurdity. "do you call Colonel Brandon infirm? I can easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my mother. though you may not think it intentionally ill-natured. Jennings. but to the latter it was at first incomprehensible. "can never hope to feel or inspire affection again. perfectly indifferent. Get any book for free on: www. and if he were ever animated enough to be in love. must have long outlived every sensation of the kind. I know very well that Colonel Brandon is not old enough to make his friends yet apprehensive of losing him in the course of nature. Mrs. after pausing a moment. for she considered it as an unfeeling reflection on the colonel's advanced years." "A woman of seven and twenty." said Elinor. and when its object was understood. or her fortune small. as far as it regarded only himself. "But at least. "at this rate you must be in continual terror of MY decay. for the sake of the provision and security of a wife. ventured to clear Mrs." "Perhaps. I should not think Colonel Brandon's being thirty-five any objection to his marrying HER. you are not doing me justice. I can suppose that she might bring herself to submit to the offices of a nurse. At the park she laughed at the colonel. you cannot deny the absurdity of the accusation. laughing. or censure its impertinence. Colonel Brandon is certainly younger than Mrs. and in the cottage at Marianne. . but he is old enough to be MY father. Jennings from the probability of wishing to throw ridicule on his age." "Mamma. To the former her raillery was probably. if age and infirmity will not protect him?" "Infirmity!" said Elinor. He may live twenty years longer. so exceedingly ancient as he appeared to the youthful fancy of her daughter. who could not think a man five years younger than herself." said Marianne. But if there should by any chance happen to be a woman who is single at seven and twenty. but you can hardly deceive yourself as to his having the use of his limbs!" "Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism? and is not that the commonest infirmity of declining life?" "My dearest child. Mamma. and on his forlorn condition as an old bachelor. But thirty-five has nothing to do with matrimony." said her mother.Abika.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 25 against them both.

is not there something interesting to you in the flushed cheek. "to convince you that a woman of seven and twenty could feel for a man of thirty-five anything near enough to love. Does Elinor expect him already?" "I have never mentioned it to her. if I have felt any anxiety at all on the subject. Confess. But I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and his wife to the constant confinement of a sick chamber." said Marianne.Abika. to make him a desirable companion to her. as it was not likely that the room would be wanted for some time. and the world would be satisfied." "It would be impossible. On the contrary. It would be a compact of convenience. "I have an alarm on the subject of illness which I cannot conceal from you. you would not have despised him half so much. rheumatisms." "How strange this is! what can be the meaning of it! But the whole of their behaviour to each other has been unaccountable! How cold. "and with me a flannel waistcoat is invariably connected with aches. Marianne. Nothing but real indisposition could occasion this extraordinary delay. how composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the last evening of their being together! In Edward's farewell there was no Get any book for free on: . for when I was talking to her yesterday of getting a new grate for the spare bedchamber. cramps. hollow eye." "But he talked of flannel waistcoats. but of course she must." "I rather think you are mistaken." said Marianne. What else can detain him at Norland?" "Had you any idea of his coming so soon?" said Mrs. I know. We have now been here almost a fortnight. "Mamma. To me it would seem only a commercial exchange." replied Elinor. in which each wished to be benefited at the expense of the other. when I talked of his coming to Barton. and quick pulse of a fever?" Soon after this. it has been in recollecting that he sometimes showed a want of pleasure and readiness in accepting my invitation." "Had he been only in a violent fever. In my eyes it would be no marriage at all. upon Elinor's leaving the room. I am sure Edward Ferrars is not well. and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and the feeble.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 26 In his marrying such a woman therefore there would be nothing unsuitable. merely because he chanced to complain yesterday (a very cold damp day) of a slight rheumatic feel in one of his shoulders. but that would be nothing. "I had none. Dashwood. and yet he does not come. she observed that there was no immediate hurry for it.

The house and the garden. along the narrow winding valley of Allenham. by reminding them a little of Norland. and it was not all of them that were attainable. There were but few who could be so classed. and unable longer to bear the confinement which the settled rain of the two preceding days had occasioned. as formerly described. in quitting Norland and Edward. or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?" CHAPTER 9 The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to themselves. attracted by the partial sunshine of a showery sky. for. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to avoid society. the girls had. and each time did he most unaccountably follow me out of the room. Dashwood's spirit overcame the wish of society for her children. Their visitors. Even now her self-command is invariable. since the loss of their father. About a mile and a half from the cottage. in spite of Sir John's urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the neighbourhood. And Elinor. interested their imagination and made them wish to be better acquainted with it. and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at their service. the independence of Mrs. were not many. with all the objects surrounding them. The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks. an elderly lady of very good character. cried not as I did. could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed. The high downs which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on their summits. was unfortunately too infirm to mix with the .Abika. and she was resolute in declining to visit any family beyond the distance of a walk. and towards one of these hills did Marianne and Margaret one memorable morning direct their steps. But they learnt. except those from Barton Park. Twice did I leave them purposely together in the course of the last morning. Get any book for free on: www. in one of their earliest walks. and never stirred from home. which issued from that of Barton. that its possessor. Sir John Middleton. discovered an ancient respectable looking mansion which. The weather was not tempting enough to draw the two others from their pencil and their book. who called on them every day for the first fortnight. were now become familiar. and the ordinary pursuits which had given to Norland half its charms were engaged in again with far greater enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford. and who was not in the habit of seeing much occupation at home. on enquiry. were a happy alternative when the dirt of the valleys beneath shut up their superior beauties.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 27 distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an affectionate brother to both.

they were obliged. whither Margaret was just arrived. "superior to this?--Margaret. and elegance. he apologized for his intrusion by relating its cause. Marianne had at first the advantage. and Margaret. he bore her directly into the house. ugly." Margaret agreed. the gate of which had been left open by Margaret. and a driving rain set full in their face. and carried her down the hill. to turn back. They gaily ascended the downs. Dashwood would have been secured by any act of attention to her child. and when they caught in their faces the animating gales of a high south-westerly wind. we will walk here at least two hours. Then passing through the garden. and vulgar.-Chagrined and surprised.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 28 in spite of Marianne's declaration that the day would be lastingly fair. One consolation however remained for them. but a false step brought her suddenly to the ground. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. but the influence of youth. rejoicing in their own penetration at every glimpse of blue sky. was passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne. for no shelter was nearer than their own house. unable to stop herself to assist her." said Marianne. and perceiving that her modesty declined what her situation rendered necessary. but her foot had been twisted in her fall. in a manner so frank and so graceful that his person. and while the eyes of both were fixed on him with an evident wonder and a secret admiration which equally sprung from his appearance. The gentleman offered his services. A gentleman carrying a gun. when her accident happened. Had he been even old. "Is there a felicity in the world. and the two girls set off together. the gratitude and kindness of Mrs. Get any book for free on: www. and quitted not his hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour. resisting it with laughing delight for about twenty minutes longer. though unwillingly. it was that of running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which led immediately to their garden . beauty. took her up in his arms without farther delay. She had raised herself from the ground. They set off. and reached the bottom in safety. and she was scarcely able to stand. and that every threatening cloud would be drawn off from their hills. they pitied the fears which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such delightful sensations. was involuntarily hurried along. to which the exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety. Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at their entrance. with two pointers playing round him. received additional charms from his voice and expression. which was uncommonly handsome. and they pursued their way against the wind.Abika. when suddenly the clouds united over their heads.

A very decent shot. But she had seen enough of him to join in all the admiration of the others. and the pain of a sprained ankle was disregarded. and the laugh which his gallantry raised against Marianne received particular spirit from his exterior attractions. His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness were instantly the theme of general admiration. and. had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their entering the house. invited him to be seated. is HE in the country? That is good news however. Dashwood then begged to know to whom she was obliged. "Know him! to be sure I do.Abika. "But what are his manners on more intimate Get any book for free on: www. as he was dirty and wet. Her imagination was . and with an energy which always adorned her praise. on his lifting her up. was Willoughby. was eagerly asked whether he knew any gentleman the name of Willoughby at Allenham. His name was good. to make himself still more interesting. and she soon found out that of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming. and ask him to dinner on Thursday. Dashwood. from whence he hoped she would allow him the honour of calling tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood. every year. he replied. Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval fair weather that morning allowed him to get out doors. for the confusion which crimsoned over her face." "You know him then. Mrs." said Mrs. there was a rapidity of thought which particularly recommended the action to her. and there is not a bolder rider in England." Why. But this he declined. I will ride over tomorrow. in the midst of an heavy rain. her reflections were pleasant. She thanked him again and again. of of he of "Willoughby!" cried Sir John. and in his carrying her into the house with so little previous formality. Every circumstance belonging to him was interesting. and Marianne's accident being related to him." "And is that all you can say for him?" cried Marianne.-Marianne herself had seen less of his person that the rest. his residence was in their favourite village. His name. and his present home was at Allenham. with a sweetness of address which always attended her. indignantly. His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn for the hero of a favourite story. he is down here "And what sort of a young man is he?" "As good a kind of fellow as ever lived. and he then departed. "what. I assure you. The honour was readily granted.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 29 gave an interest to the action which came home to her feelings.

and if I were you. and genius?" Sir John was rather puzzled. "and with elegance. and one whose acquaintance will not be ineligible.Abika. with spirit?" "Yes. that is what a young man ought to be. Willoughby had no property of his own in the country. his talents." said Sir John. he is very well worth catching I can tell you." repeated Sir John. that he resided there only while he was visiting the old lady at Allenham Court. "But who is he?" said Elinor. You will be setting your cap at him now. if she does not take care. Willoughby's pointer. "Upon my soul. Miss Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself. It is not an employment to which they have been brought up. than he could describe to her the shades of his mind. to whom he was related." "That is what I like. "I see how it will be. and never think of poor Brandon. "Where does he come Has he a house at Allenham?" from? On this point Sir John could give more certain intelligence. adding. Was she out with him today?" But Marianne could no more satisfy him as to the colour of Mr. in spite of all this tumbling down hills. without once sitting down. Miss Dashwood. Men are very safe with us. and leave him no sense of fatigue." "I do not believe. But he is a pleasant. Whatever be his pursuits. from what you say. Willoughby will be incommoded by the attempts of either of MY daughters towards what you call CATCHING him." "Aye." "Did he indeed?" cried Marianne with sparkling eyes. however. "I remember last Christmas at a little hop at the park. that he is a respectable young man. and has got the nicest little black bitch of a pointer I ever saw. as ever lived. I am glad to find." "He is as good a sort of fellow. I would not give him up to my younger ." said he. Brandon will be jealous. he has a pretty little estate of his own in Somersetshire besides. I see how it will be. Dashwood. "Yes. and he told them that Mr." said Marianne. "that Mr." "That is an expression. "I do not know much about him as to all THAT. and he was up again at eight to ride to covert. good humoured fellow. and whose possessions he was to inherit. Get any book for free on: www. with a good humoured smile.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 30 acquaintance? What his pursuits. yes. Sir John. aye. I believe. let them be ever so rich." said Mrs. his eagerness in them should know no moderation. he danced from eight o'clock till four.

regular features." CHAPTER 10 Marianne's preserver. and in her eyes. truth was less violently outraged than usually happens. though not so correct as her sister' . and her face was so lovely. a spirit. and if their construction could ever be deemed clever. "which I particularly dislike. which were very dark. was more striking. that when in the common cant of praise. there was a life. Their tendency is gross and illiberal. which could hardily be seen without delight. when her spirits became collected. but. and he is very well worth setting your cap at. Poor Brandon! he is quite smitten already. she was called a beautiful girl. Dashwood with more than politeness. in having the advantage of height. in spite of all this tumbling about and spraining of ankles. called at the cottage early the next morning to make his personal enquiries. I can tell you. by the embarrassment which the remembrance of his assistance created. she gave him such a look of approbation as secured the largest share of his discourse to herself for the rest of his stay. But when this passed away. He was received by Mrs. an eagerness. styled Willoughby. you will make conquests enough. one way or other. elegance. and domestic comfort of the family to whom accident had now introduced him. I dare say. and above all.' or 'making a conquest. when she saw that to the perfect good-breeding of the gentleman.' are the most odious of all. when she heard him declare." Sir John did not much understand this reproof. as Margaret. "Ay. It was only necessary to mention any favourite Get any book for free on: www. and then replied. Her skin was very brown. Her form. he united frankness and vivacity. From Willoughby their expression was at first held back.Abika. but he laughed as heartily as if he did. I abhor every common-place phrase by which wit is intended. with a kindness which Sir John's account of him and her own gratitude prompted. her complexion was uncommonly brilliant. with more elegance than precision. her smile was sweet and attractive.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 31 warmly. from its transparency. Marianne was still handsomer. that of music and dancing he was passionately fond. Of their personal charms he had not required a second interview to be convinced. and every thing that passed during the visit tended to assure him of the sense. her features were all good. Miss Dashwood had a delicate complexion. time has long ago destroyed all its ingenuity. and 'setting one's cap at a man. and a remarkably pretty figure. mutual affection.



amusement to engage her to talk. She could not be silent when such points were introduced, and she had neither shyness nor reserve in their discussion. They speedily discovered that their enjoyment of dancing and music was mutual, and that it arose from a general conformity of judgment in all that related to either. Encouraged by this to a further examination of his opinions, she proceeded to question him on the subject of books; her favourite authors were brought forward and dwelt upon with so rapturous a delight, that any young man of five and twenty must have been insensible indeed, not to become an immediate convert to the excellence of such works, however disregarded before. Their taste was strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by each-or if any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no longer than till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her eyes could be displayed. He acquiesced in all her decisions, caught all her enthusiasm; and long before his visit concluded, they conversed with the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance. "Well, Marianne," said Elinor, as soon as he had left them, "for ONE morning I think you have done pretty well. You have already ascertained Mr. Willoughby's opinion in almost every matter of importance. You know what he thinks of Cowper and Scott; you are certain of his estimating their beauties as he ought, and you have received every assurance of his admiring Pope no more than is proper. But how is your acquaintance to be long supported, under such extraordinary despatch of every subject for discourse? You will soon have exhausted each favourite topic. Another meeting will suffice to explain his sentiments on picturesque beauty, and second marriages, and then you can have nothing farther to ask."-"Elinor," cried Marianne, "is this fair? is this just? are my ideas so scanty? But I see what you mean. I have been too much at my ease, too happy, too frank. I have erred against every common-place notion of decorum; I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful--had I talked only of the weather and the roads, and had I spoken only once in ten minutes, this reproach would have been spared." "My love," said her mother, "you must not be offended with Elinor--she was only in jest. I should scold her myself, if she were capable of wishing to check the delight of your conversation with our new friend."-Marianne was softened in a moment. Willoughby, on his side, gave every proof of his pleasure in their acquaintance, which an evident wish of improving it could offer. He came to them every day. To enquire after Marianne was at first his excuse; but the encouragement of his reception, to which every day gave greater kindness, made such an excuse unnecessary before it

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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

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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,

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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."


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

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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

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Her admiration and regard. as I believe. when they were sitting down together by mutual consent. as she had reason to suspect that the misery of disappointed love had already been known to him. while the others were dancing. Elinor's compassion for him increased. and." "Or rather. She had nothing to say one day that she had not said the day before. that they were sometimes only reminded of her being amongst them by her solicitude about her troublesome boys. Colonel Brandon. even her sisterly regard. but he was a lover. This suspicion was given by some words which accidently dropped from him one evening at the park. She had already repeated her own history to Elinor three or four times.Abika.-and so little did her presence add to the pleasure of the others. and from the first had regarded her with a kindness which ensured her a large share of her discourse. although the latter was an everlasting talker. and a far less agreeable man might have been more generally pleasing. after a silence of some minutes. and though she did not oppose the parties arranged by her husband. Willoughby was out of the question." "No. by any share in their conversation. and in conversing with Elinor he found the greatest consolation for the indifference of her sister. for even her spirits were always the same. "her opinions are all romantic. Elinor needed little observation to perceive that her reserve was a mere calmness of manner with which sense had nothing to do. Get any book for free on: www. In Colonel Brandon alone. was all his own. "Your sister. and had Elinor's memory been equal to her means of improvement." "I believe she does. and intimacy was therefore neither to be looked for nor desired. he said. But how she contrives it without reflecting on the character of her own father. His eyes were fixed on Marianne. of all her new acquaintance. unfortunately for himself. did Elinor find a person who could in any degree claim the respect of abilities." replied Elinor. I understand. with a faint smile. she might have known very early in their acquaintance all the particulars of Mr. his attentions were wholly Marianne's. excite the interest of friendship. provided every thing were conducted in style and her two eldest children attended her. Jenning's last illness. Towards her husband and mother she was the same as to them. does not approve of second attachments. had no such encouragement to think only of Marianne. Lady Middleton was more agreeable than her mother only in being more silent. Her insipidity was invariable. she never appeared to receive more enjoyment from them than she might have experienced in sitting at . and what he said to his wife a few minutes before he died. she considers them impossible to exist.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 37 to her the conversation she missed. or give pleasure as a companion.

whether from the inconstancy of its object. "and yet there is something so amiable in the prejudices of a young mind.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 38 who had himself two wives. and too dangerous! I speak from experience. As it was." "This." said Elinor." After a short pause he resumed the conversation by saying. do not desire it. "cannot hold. that one is sorry to see them give way to the reception of more general opinions. for when the romantic refinements of a young mind are obliged to give way. by any body but herself. The whole story would have been speedily formed under her active imagination. but a . but who from an inforced change--from a series of unfortunate circumstances"-Here he stopt suddenly." said he.Abika. But Marianne. I only know that I never yet heard her admit any instance of a second attachment's being pardonable.-"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. which all the charms of enthusiasm and ignorance of the world cannot atone for. which might not otherwise have entered Elinor's head. and every thing established in the most melancholy order of disastrous love. I know not. it required but a slight effort of fancy to connect his emotion with the tender recollection of past regard. The lady would probably have passed without suspicion. in her place. how frequently are they succeeded by such opinions as are but too common. no. to be equally indifferent during the rest of their lives?" "Upon my word. I am not acquainted with the minutiae of her principles. or the perverseness of circumstances." he replied. and by his countenance gave rise to conjectures. and then they may be more easy to define and to justify than they now are. and a better acquaintance with the world is what I look forward to as her greatest possible advantage." "I cannot agree with you there. Elinor attempted no more. "There are inconveniences attending such feelings as Marianne's. would not have done so little. Her systems have all the unfortunate tendency of setting propriety at nought. A few years however will settle her opinions on the reasonable basis of common sense and observation. a total change of sentiments--No. I once knew a lady who in temper and mind greatly resembled your sister. Get any book for free on: www. appeared to think that he had said too much." "This will probably be the case. who thought and judged like her. had he not convinced Miss Dashwood that what concerned her ought not to escape his lips.

by representing the inconveniences which that indulgent Get any book for free on: . build a stable to receive them. my dear Elinor. and for some time she refused to submit to them. As to an additional servant. he might always get one at the park. Marianne told her. Opposition on so tender a subject would only attach her the more to her own opinion. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other.-it is disposition alone. though we have lived together for years. and keep a servant to ride it. and told her sister of it in raptures. and any horse would do for HIM. I should hold myself guilty of greater impropriety in accepting a horse from my brother." she added. But by an appeal to her affection for her mother. and seven days are more than enough for others." Elinor thought it wisest to touch that point no more. but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed. Of John I know very little. Elinor. that Willoughby had given her a horse. the delight of a gallop on some of these downs. or at least so lately known to her. "He intends to send his groom into Somersetshire immediately for it. she had accepted the present without hesitation. and which was exactly calculated to carry a woman. with the greatest delight. the expense would be a trifle. which in spite of all that she knew before of Marianne's imprudence and want of thought. "and when it arrives we will ride every day. Mamma she was sure would never object to it. She knew her sister's temper. except yourself and mama.Abika. Imagine to yourself. that if she were to alter her resolution in favour of this gift. Without considering that it was not in her mother's plan to keep any horse." Most unwilling was she to awaken from such a dream of felicity to comprehend all the unhappy truths which attended the affair. surprised her by its extravagant testimony of both." said she warmly. she must buy another for the servant. but I am much better acquainted with him. This was too much. It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy. "You are mistaken. than from Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed. Elinor then ventured to doubt the propriety of her receiving such a present from a man so little. the merest shed would be sufficient. as to a stable. than I am with any other creature in the world.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 39 CHAPTER 12 As Elinor and Marianne were walking together the next morning the latter communicated a piece of news to her sister. one that he had bred himself on his estate in Somersetshire. and after all. You shall share its use with me. "in supposing I know very little of Willoughby.

when they were next by themselves. though you cannot use it now. she instantly saw an intimacy so decided. should be left by tempers so frank. and to tell Willoughby when she saw him next. and they had not known each other a week. Marianne. to discover it by accident. if (as would probably be the case) she consented to this increase of establishment. had had opportunity for observations." This was all overheard by Miss Dashwood. as marked a perfect agreement between them. Willoughby had spent the preceding evening with them. and the belief of it created no other surprise than that she. and in his addressing her sister by her christian name alone." "Take care. . >From that moment she doubted not of their being engaged to each other. she communicated to her eldest sister. It may be only the hair of some great uncle of HIS. the same day. and when Willoughby called at the cottage. on being obliged to forego the acceptance of his present. he added. and in the whole of the sentence." "You have said so. Willoughby very soon. and Margaret. and after expressing it with earnestness. but it turned out to be only the miniature of our great uncle. She was faithful to her word. "Oh. and they were such as to make further entreaty on his side impossible. The reasons for this alteration were at the same time related. the horse is still yours. I shall keep it only till you can claim it. or any of their friends. and she promised not to tempt her mother to such imprudent kindness by mentioning the offer. for he has got a lock of her hair. by being left some time in the parlour with only him and Marianne. in his manner of pronouncing it. When you leave Barton to form your own establishment in a more lasting home. with a most important face. I believe. Marianne was shortly subdued. I am sure she will be married to Mr. "almost every day since they first met on High-church Down." Get any book for free on: www.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 40 mother must draw on herself. Margaret related something to her the next day. I am sure they will be married very soon.Abika. His concern however was very apparent." "But indeed this is quite another thing. Elinor heard her express her disappointment to him in a low voice. "I have such a secret to tell you about Marianne. a meaning so direct. Elinor!" she cried. before you were certain that Marianne wore his picture round her neck." replied Elinor. that it must be declined. in the same low voice.--"But. Margaret. which placed this matter in a still clearer light. Queen Mab shall receive you.



"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."

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"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.


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

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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. hope she is well." And I

"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?"

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"My own loss is great," be 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

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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

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It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening. and as like him as she can stare. he joined most heartily in the general regret on so unfortunate an event." When Sir John returned. a very near relation. It is a very large one. and replied very hastily. she had actually made her own woman enquire of Mr. which did not happen till after the return of all the rest. I hope you will have new-furnished it. Get any book for free on: www. and I was determined to find out WHERE you had been to. Willoughby's groom. they might procure a tolerable composure of mind by driving about the country. Jennings sat on Elinor's right hand. Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder Miss Dashwoods. Mr. Jennings laughed heartily.Abika. and they had the pleasure of sitting down nearly twenty to table. and when I come to see . they must do something by way of being happy." said Willoughby. We will not say how near. I know. but said only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes. and they had not been long seated. and after some consultation it was agreed.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 46 sure you must have heard of her before. and said to Marianne. for fear of shocking the young ladies. before she leant behind her and Willoughby. Mrs. They both seemed delighted with their drive. and Elinor found that in her resolution to know where they had been." Marianne coloured. which Sir John observed with great contentment. "I have found you out in spite of all your tricks. She is a relation of the Colonel's. and nothing more of them was seen till their return. "that we had been out in my curricle?" "Yes." "Indeed!" "Oh. Some more of the Careys came to dinner. He drove through the park very fast. that although happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell. "Where. yes. and Marianne never looked happier than when she got into it. Impudence. "She is his natural daughter." Marianne turned away in great confusion. Willoughby's was first. and that every body should be extremely merry all day long. pray?"-"Did not you know. she said to Elinor. The carriages were then ordered. yes. Miss Marianne. loud enough for them both to hear. while the others went on the downs. for it wanted it very much when I was there six years ago. my dear. that as they were all got together. I dare say the Colonel will leave her all his fortune. concluding however by observing. and they were soon out of sight. I know where you spent the morning.-I hope you like your house. Mrs. lowering her voice a little." Then. I know that very well.

or that we did not see the house? Is not it what you have often wished to do yourself?" "Yes. that we did not go there. Elinor could hardly believe this to be true. and it is a charming house. you would not be justified in what you have done. They will one day be Mr. to enter the house while Mrs. as it has already exposed you to some very impertinent remarks. Jennings are to be the proof of impropriety in conduct. I should have been sensible of it at the time. nothing can be a stronger proof of it. Willoughby wanted particularly to shew me the place. do you not now begin to doubt the discretion of your own conduct?" "If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. As soon as they left the dining-room. it WAS rather ill-judged in me to go to Allenham." replied Elinor." "But. Jennings was perfectly true.Abika. it was impossible to have any other companion. and as he went in an open carriage." She blushed at this hint. we are all offending every moment of our lives. with whom Marianne had not the smallest acquaintance. Marianne. but I would not go while Mrs. I value not her censure any more than I should do her commendation. but Mr. Elinor." "Mr. and spent a considerable time there in walking about the garden and going all over the house. I am not sensible of having done anything wrong in walking over Mrs. my dear Marianne." "I am afraid. I never spent a pleasanter morning in my life. and said with great good humour. and after a ten minutes' interval of earnest thought. "that the pleasantness of an employment does not always evince its propriety. Smith's grounds. for we always know when we are acting wrong. Get any book for free on: www. or Marianne consent. and great was her surprise when she found that every circumstance related by Mrs. Smith was there. "Why should you imagine. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to shew that house. "Perhaps. Elinor. as it seemed very unlikely that Willoughby should propose. and--" "If they were one day to be your own." "On the contrary. or in seeing her house. and with no other companion than Mr. Elinor enquired of her about it. Elinor. but it was even visibly gratifying to her. Willoughby. Willoughby' . Marianne. Marianne was quite angry with her for doubting it. and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 47 and that she had by that method been informed that they had gone to Allenham. for if there had been any real impropriety in what I did. she came to her sister again. Smith was in it.

com . "I could see it in his face. and thought over every kind of distress that could have befallen him. and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. to a beautiful hanging wood.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 48 I assure you." said she.Abika. I dare say it is. It is a corner room. and has sent for him over. I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams.--There is one remarkably pretty sitting room up stairs. Jennings for two or three days. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his circumstances NOW. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand a year. and raised the wonder of Mrs. and on the other you have a view of the church and village. I did not see it to advantage." Get any book for free on: www. and. with his steadiness in concealing its cause. and a good wife into the bargain. "Something very melancholy must be the matter. for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. CHAPTER 14 The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon's visit at the park. and with modern furniture it would be delightful. On one side you look across the bowling-green. I am sure. filled the mind. His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. and has windows on two sides. for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. of those fine bold hills that we have so often admired. was sure there must be some bad news. May be she is ill in town.--but if it were newly fitted up--a couple of hundred pounds. of a nice comfortable size for constant use. as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all the comings and goings of all their acquaintance. I would give anything to know the truth of it. behind the house. and his brother left everything sadly involved." Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the others. would make it one of the pleasantest summer-rooms in England. with a fixed determination that he should not escape them all. I wish him out of all his trouble with all my heart. for he is a very prudent man. for nothing could be more forlorn than the furniture. with little intermission what could be the reason of it. She wondered. I wonder what it can be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon. Well. by the bye. Willoughby says. she would have described every room in the house with equal delight. she was a great wonderer. I do think he must have been sent for about money matters. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and. nothing in the world more likely. because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. beyond them. Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may be bad.

for besides that the circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting amazement or variety of speculation. But for this strange kind of secrecy maintained by them relative to their engagement. but he lived at an expense to which that income could hardly be equal. could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly away. his heart seemed more than usually open to every feeling of attachment to the objects around him. One evening in particular. Nothing could be more expressive of attachment to them all. about a week after Colonel Brandon left the country. there was no reason to believe him rich. and to the rest of the family it was the affectionate attention of a son and a brother. for though Willoughby was independent. the exercise which called him out in the morning was almost certain of ending there. which they must know to be peculiarly interesting to them all. every day made it appear more strange and more incompatible with the disposition of both. if my feelings are regarded. and this doubt was enough to prevent her making any inquiry of Marianne. His estate had been rated by Sir John at about six or seven hundred a year. than Willoughby's behaviour. Jennings. which in fact concealed nothing at all. To Marianne it had all the distinguishing tenderness which a lover's heart could give. and on Mrs. and he had himself often complained of his poverty. what their constant behaviour to each other declared to have taken place. not an inch to its size. and if no general engagement collected them at the park. THAT I will never consent to. she could not account. and all seeming equally probable as they arose. and it was so wholly contradictory to their general opinions and practice.Abika. Elinor could not imagine. many more of his hours were spent there than at Allenham. so talked Mrs." Get any book for free on: www. Why they should not openly acknowledge to her mother and herself. As this silence continued. "What!" he exclaimed--"Improve this dear cottage! No. Her opinion varying with every fresh conjecture. that a doubt sometimes entered her mind of their being really engaged. She could easily conceive that marriage might not be immediately in their power. which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling. Dashwood's happening to mention her design of improving the cottage in the spring. It was engossed by the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby on the subject. though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel Brandon. The cottage seemed to be considered and loved by him as his home. and by his favourite pointer at her . he warmly opposed every alteration of a place which affection had established as perfect with him. where the rest of the day was spent by himself at the side of Marianne. her wonder was otherwise disposed of. Elinor. Not a stone must be added to its walls.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 49 So wondered.

for my mother will never have money enough to attempt it." said Miss Dashwood." said he. Smith. "May she always be poor. when I next came into the country. I might perhaps be as happy at Combe as I have been at Barton." "Thank you. Nay. Must it not have been so." "I am heartily glad of it"." replied Elinor. "And yet this Get any book for free on: www. and grieving that no one should live in it. if she can employ her riches no better. should the least variation be perceptible. "Yes." added he. and then only." "With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes. that Barton cottage were inhabited! I never passed within view of it without admiring its situation. and build it up again in the exact plan of this cottage. more. How little did I then think that the very first news I should hear from Mrs. and were I rich enough I would instantly pull Combe down.--in no one convenience or INconvenience about it. but this place will always have one claim of my affection." said Elinor. "which might greatly endear it to me. would be that Barton cottage was taken: and I felt an immediate satisfaction and interest in the event. you will hereafter find your own house as faultless as you now do this. under such a roof." "I flatter myself. But are you really so attached to this place as to see no defect in it?" "I am. Then. Marianne?" speaking to her in a lowered voice. "To me it is faultless. I suppose. Then continuing his former tone. Dashwood looked with pleasure at Marianne. "with all and every thing belonging to it. which nothing but a kind of prescience of what happiness I should experience from it. "that even under the disadvantage of better rooms and a broader staircase. which no other can possibly share. he cried.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 50 "Do not be alarmed. when I make up my accounts in the spring. But you may be assured that I would not sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment of yours. "when I was at Allenham this time . Depend upon it that whatever unemployed sum may remain. or of any one whom I loved." said Willoughby." Mrs. as plainly denoted how well she understood him. Willoughby." "There certainly are circumstances. whose fine eyes were fixed so expressively on Willoughby." cried he in the same eager tone. "nothing of the kind will be done. I consider it as the only form of building in which happiness is attainable.Abika. can account for. I would even rather lay it uselessly by than dispose of it in a manner so painful to you. "How often did I wish. for all the improvements in the world. he said.

and Willoughby's behaviour during the whole of the evening declared at once his affection and . Get any book for free on: www." The promise was readily given. and in which so many happy hours have been since spent by us together. CHAPTER 15 Mrs. to call on Lady Middleton. Dashwood again assured him that no alteration of the kind should be attempted. "Shall we see you tomorrow to dinner?" said Mrs. and Mrs. "You are a good woman. Mrs. with her handkerchief at her eyes. and it will make me happy.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 51 house you would spoil. and two of her daughters went with her. So far it was all as she had foreseen. for we must walk to the park. They were no sooner in the passage than Marianne came hastily out of the parlour apparently in violent affliction. Dashwood's visit to Lady Middleton took place the next day. Tell me that not only your house will remain the same. Dashwood was convinced that her conjecture had been just. He turned round on their coming in. when he was leaving them. and her mother. but Marianne excused herself from being of the party. but that I shall ever find you and yours as unchanged as your dwelling." he warmly replied.Abika. "Your promise makes me easy." Mrs. under some trifling pretext of employment. and without noticing them ran up stairs. "I do not ask you to come in the morning. Dashwood. and that you will always consider me with the kindness which has made everything belonging to you so dear to me. Dashwood? You would rob it of its simplicity by imaginary improvement! and this dear parlour in which our acquaintance first began." He engaged to be with them by four o'clock. you would degrade to the condition of a common entrance. but on entering the house she beheld what no foresight had taught her to expect. On their return from the park they found Willoughby's curricle and servant in waiting at the cottage. where they found only Willoughby. who concluded that a promise had been made by Willoughby the night before of calling on her while they were absent. Surprised and alarmed they proceeded directly into the room she had just quitted. Extend it a little farther. who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his back towards them. and every body would be eager to pass through the room which has hitherto contained within itself more real accommodation and comfort than any other apartment of the handsomest dimensions in the world could possibly afford. was perfectly satisfied with her remaining at home.

that at Barton cottage you will always be welcome." Mrs. "It is folly Get any book for free on: www. "I have only to add." He coloured as he replied. "You are very kind. and another pause succeeded. My visits to Mrs. because you only can judge how far THAT might be pleasing to Mrs. and with his eyes fixed on the ground he only replied. Smith." "And is Mrs. Smith your only friend? Is Allenham the only house in the neighbourhood to which you will be welcome? For shame. by sending me on business to London. . Smith must be obliged. Smith are never repeated within the twelvemonth. I have just received my dispatches. and with a forced smile presently added. and on this head I shall be no more disposed to question your judgment than to doubt your inclination." "My engagements at present. my dear Willoughby. Smith has this morning exercised the privilege of riches upon a poor dependent cousin." "To London!--and are you going this morning?" "Almost this moment. and by way of exhilaration I am now come to take my farewell of you. "You are too good. but I have no idea of returning into Devonshire immediately. For a few moments every one was silent. Willoughby. "Is anything the matter with her?" cried Mrs." he replied. trying to look cheerful.Abika. confusedly. who said with a faint smile. This was broken by Willoughby.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 52 and his countenance shewed that he strongly partook of the emotion which over-powered Marianne. Dashwood looked at Elinor with surprise. Mrs. Elinor felt equal amazement." replied Willoughby. Dashwood first spoke.--and her business will not detain you from us long I hope. Dashwood was too much astonished to speak. But Mrs." "This is very unfortunate. for I will not press you to return here immediately. "are of such a nature--that--I dare not flatter myself"-He stopt. for I am unable to keep my engagement with you. "It is I who may rather expect to be ill--for I am now suffering under a very heavy disappointment!" "Disappointment?" "Yes. Dashwood as she entered--"is she ill?" "I hope not. can you wait for an invitation here?" His colour increased. and taken my farewell of Allenham. Mrs.

a quarrel seemed almost impossible. Dashwood felt too much for speech. "and with how heavy a heart does he travel?" "It is all very strange. and I can perfectly account for every thing that at first seemed strange to me as well as to you.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 53 to linger in this manner. and though her eyes were red. and in a minute it was out of sight." "Can you. So suddenly to be gone! It seems but the work of a moment. He had not the power of accepting it." He then hastily took leave of them all and left the room. Mrs. and. and instantly quitted the parlour to give way in solitude to the concern and alarm which this sudden departure occasioned. so cheerful. I will not torment myself any longer by remaining among friends whose society it is impossible for me now to enjoy. indeed!" "Yes. YOU must have seen the difference as well as I. her sister's affliction was indubitable. Elinor's uneasiness was at least equal to her mother's. One moment she feared that no serious design had ever been formed on his side. as she sat down to work. "Our dear Willoughby is now some miles from Barton.Abika. and the next that some unfortunate quarrel had taken place between him and her sister. but feeding and encouraging as a duty. I have explained it to myself in the most Get any book for free on: www. But whatever might be the particulars of their separation." said she. above all. he did not behave like himself. In about half an hour her mother returned.--the distress in which Marianne had quitted the room was such as a serious quarrel could most reasonably account for. his unwillingness to accept her mother's . And last night he was with us so happy. They saw him step into his carriage. so unlike himself. greatly disturbed her. though when she considered what Marianne's love for him was. She thought of what had just passed with anxiety and distrust. her countenance was not uncheerful. a backwardness so unlike a lover. He did not speak. I could plainly see THAT. What can it be? Can they have quarrelled? Why else should he have shewn such unwillingness to accept your invitation here?"-"It was not inclination that he wanted. I have thought it all over I assure you. so affectionate? And now. after only ten minutes notice--Gone too without intending to return!--Something more than what be owned to us must have happened. and affectation of cheerfulness. Elinor. Elinor. his embarrassment. Willoughby's behaviour in taking leave of them. and she thought with the tenderest compassion of that violent sorrow which Marianne was in all probability not merely giving way to as a relief.

But you really do admit the justice of what I have said in his defence?--I am happy--and he is acquitted." "Do not blame him. I know. it must be highly expedient Get any book for free on: www. and no reason in the world to think ill of? To the possibility of motives unanswerable in themselves. from his dependent situation. who love to doubt where you can--it will not satisfy YOU. but you shall not talk ME out of my trust in it. however. But it would have been more like Willoughby to acknowledge them at once. But suspicion of something unpleasant is the inevitable consequence of such an alteration as we just witnessed in him. because he took leave of us with less affection than his usual behaviour has shewn. and absent himself from Devonshire for a while. what is it you suspect him of?" "I can hardly tell myself. And is no allowance to be made for inadvertence. It may be proper to conceal their engagement (if they ARE engaged) from Mrs. and he feels himself obliged.) and on that account is eager to get him . unless you can point out any other method of understanding the affair as satisfactory at this. You had rather look out for misery for Marianne. You will tell me. Secrecy may be advisable. or for spirits depressed by recent disappointment? Are no probabilities to be accepted.-and that the business which she sends him off to transact is invented as an excuse to dismiss him. than an apology for the latter. Smith-and if that is the case. I am persuaded that Mrs. that this may or may NOT have happened." "Not entirely. aware that she DOES disapprove the connection. and I will hope that he has. And now. Elinor. what have you to say?" "Nothing. Elinor. There is great truth." "Then you would have told me. where the deviation is necessary. Oh. disapproves of it. he dares not therefore at present confess to her his engagement with Marianne. that it might or might not have happened. Elinor. how incomprehensible are your feelings! You had rather take evil upon credit than good. moreover. (perhaps because she has other views for him. merely because they are not certainties? Is nothing due to the man whom we have all such reason to love. He is. to give into her schemes. I know. and guilt for poor Willoughby. You are resolved to think him blameable. and it is my wish to be candid in my judgment of every body. for you have anticipated my answer. for departing from his character. This is what I believe to have happened. after all. in what you have now urged of the allowances which ought to be made for him. but still I cannot help wondering at its being practiced by him. Willoughby may undoubtedly have very sufficient reasons for his conduct. though unavoidably secret for a while? And.Abika.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 54 satisfactory way.--but you. Smith suspects his regard for Marianne. however. but I will listen to no cavil.

as you attribute to him.Abika. but they are fainter than they were. declared that he loved and considered her as his future wife. such carelessness of the future. and that he felt for us the attachment of the nearest relation? Have we not perfectly understood each other? Has not my consent been daily asked by his looks. If we find they correspond. Has not his behaviour to Marianne and to all of us. his attentive and affectionate respect? My Elinor. Has he been acting a part in his behaviour to your sister all this time? Do you suppose him really indifferent to her?" "No. if." "Yet not a syllable has been said to you on the subject. for at least the last fortnight." said Elinor." replied Elinor.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 55 for Willoughby to be but little in Devonshire at present. but that ONE is the total silence of both on the subject. you can doubt the nature of the terms on which they are together. you would suppose they were going to Get any book for free on: www. without telling her of his affection." "I have not wanted syllables where actions have spoken so plainly." He must and does love her "But with a strange kind of tenderness." "I want no proof of their affection. I confess. when your eyes have been reproaching them every day for incautiousness. my dear mother." "I am perfectly satisfied of both. But this is no excuse for their concealing it from us. and with me it almost outweighs every other." "You must remember." "Concealing it from us! my dear child." "How strange this is! You must think wretchedly indeed of Willoughby. and leave her perhaps for . should leave her. if he can leave her with such indifference. after all that has openly passed between them. do you accuse Willoughby and Marianne of concealment? This is strange indeed. and they may soon be entirely done away. "that every circumstance except ONE is in favour of their engagement. "but of their engagement I do. is it possible to doubt their engagement? How could such a thought occur to you? How is it to be supposed that Willoughby. I have had my doubts. persuaded as he must be of your sister's love. every fear of mine will be removed. by either of them. his manner.--that they should part without a mutual exchange of confidence?" "I confess. I am sure. that I have never considered this matter as certain. I cannot think that." "A mighty concession indeed! If you were to see them at the altar.

as well as more consistent with his general character. to resist the temptation of returning here soon. I was startled. she burst into tears and left the room.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 56 be married.Abika. You cannot doubt your sister's wishes. She avoided the looks of them all. had seen her leave him in the greatest affliction. Nothing in my opinion has ever passed to justify doubt. and who has ever spoken to his disadvantage? Had he been in a situation to act independently and marry immediately. when she entered the room and took her place at the table without saying a word. and after some time. It is an engagement in some respects not prosperously begun. Get any book for free on: www. he should seem to act an ungenerous. I believe not. and if he felt obliged. and Elinor was then at liberty to think over the representations of her mother. by saying that he was going away for some time. and I will not encourage it. it might have been odd that he should leave us without acknowledging everything to me at once: but this is not the case. They saw nothing of Marianne till dinner time. I confess. Though WE have not known him long. by the alteration in his manners this morning. from a fear of offending Mrs. But why? Is he not a man of honour and feeling? Has there been any inconsistency on his side to create alarm? can he be deceitful?" "I hope not. and suspicion of his integrity cannot be more painful to yourself than to me.--he did not speak like himself. But all this may be explained by such a situation of his affairs as you have . Smith. a suspicious part by our family. all has been uniformly open and unreserved. no secrecy has been attempted." They were interrupted by the entrance of Margaret. as far as it can be observed. and yet aware that by declining your invitation. as a difference in judgment from myself." "You speak very properly. may now be very advisable. be might well be embarrassed and disturbed. Willoughby certainly does not deserve to be suspected. on her mother's silently pressing her hand with tender compassion. and hope for the justice of all. Ungracious girl! But I require no such proof. to acknowledge the probability of many. "I love Willoughby. her small degree of fortitude was quite overcome. for their marriage must be at a very uncertain distance. and it seemed as if her tears were even then restrained with difficulty.--but I will not raise objections against any one's conduct on so illiberal a foundation. It must be Willoughby therefore whom you suspect. he is no stranger in this part of the world. It has been involuntary." cried Elinor. a plain and open avowal of his difficulties would have been more to his honour I think. sincerely love him. or a deviation from what I may think right and consistent. In such a case. and even secrecy. and did not return your kindness with any cordiality. He had just parted from my sister. could neither eat nor speak. Her eyes were red and swollen.

had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay down in it. She was without any power. CHAPTER 16 Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. her voice often totally suspended by her tears. She played over every favourite song that she had been used to play to Willoughby. and none seemed expected by Marianne. to which she daily recurred.Abika. indulging the recollection of past enjoyment and crying over the present reverse for the chief of the morning. She got up with a headache. if they spoke at all. left her in no danger of incurring it. as well as in music.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 57 This violent oppression of spirits continued the whole evening. but these employments. and Elinor again became uneasy. to keep clear of every subject which her feelings connected with him. Her mother was surprised. She would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning. No letter from Willoughby came. She was awake the whole night. she courted the misery which a contrast between the past and present was certain of giving. giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters. and though her family were most anxiously attentive to her comfort. Her sensibility was potent enough! When breakfast was over she walked out by herself. it was impossible for them. She read nothing but what they had been used to read together. Such violence of affliction indeed could not be supported for ever. and this nourishment of grief was every day applied. Dashwood could find explanations Get any book for free on: www. every air in which their voices had been oftenest joined. her solitary walks and silent meditations. In books too. and sat at the instrument gazing on every line of music that he had written out for her. was unable to talk. still produced occasional effusions of sorrow as lively as ever. The evening passed off in the equal indulgence of feeling. till her heart was so heavy that no farther sadness could be gained. The slightest mention of anything relative to Willoughby overpowered her in an . She spent whole hours at the pianoforte alternately singing and crying. it sunk within a few days into a calmer melancholy. and wandered about the village of Allenham. and unwilling to take any nourishment. But the feelings which made such composure a disgrace. because she was without any desire of command over herself. and she wept the greatest part of it. But Mrs. and forbidding all attempt at consolation from either.

and of instantly removing all mystery. that she could not help suggesting it to her mother." Elinor could not deny the truth of this." Elinor thought this generosity overstrained. when circumstances make the revealment of it eligible. Mrs. common prudence. and in her opinion so eligible of knowing the real state of the affair. Dashwood.-but one evening. but in vain. considering her sister's youth." "Months!" cried Marianne. "whether she is or she is not engaged to Willoughby? From you. I know Marianne's heart: I know that she dearly loves me. and we must acknowledge that it could not be maintained if their correspondence were to pass through Sir John's hands.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 58 whenever she wanted them. indeed." said she. as it produced a reply Get any book for free on: www. It was several days before Willoughby's name was mentioned before Marianne by any of her family. We will put it by. It would be the natural result of your affection for her. our dear Willoughby went away before we could get through it. and urged the matter farther. "No--nor many weeks. and she tried to find in it a motive sufficient for their silence. We have already agreed that secrecy may be necessary." said she. "how very often Sir John fetches our letters himself from the post. common sense. Sir John and Mrs." Mrs. because a sense of duty would prevent the denial which her wishes might direct. were all sunk in Mrs.. I should never deserve her confidence again. Dashwood's romantic delicacy. Supposing it possible that they are not engaged. and so kind. perhaps. Marianne. so simple." "I would not ask such a question for the world. She used to be all unreserve. But there was one method so direct. accidentally taking up a volume of Shakespeare. were not so nice. which at least satisfied herself. her mother. that when he comes again. "We have never finished Hamlet. of a child much less. and carries them to it. but it gave Elinor . their witticisms added pain to many a painful hour. what distress would not such an enquiry inflict! At any rate it would be most ungenerous. the question could not give offence. with strong surprise. exclaimed. "Why do you not ask Marianne at once. "Remember. and that I shall not be the last to whom the affair is made known. Dashwood was sorry for what she had said.. Elinor. common care. Jennings. and to you more especially. so indulgent a mother. before THAT happens.But it may be months. after forcing from her a confession of what is meant at present to be unacknowledged to any one. I would not attempt to force the confidence of any one.

though still rich. His air. In a few minutes they could distinguish him to be a gentleman.--I know it is!"--and was hastening to meet him." "He has. and has not his air. quickened her pace and kept up with her. and chiefly in silence. Beyond the entrance of the valley. "It is he. if they talked of the valley. and in a moment afterwards Marianne rapturously exclaimed. would not then attempt more. It is not Willoughby. Marianne. joined them in begging her to stop.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 59 from Marianne so expressive of confidence in Willoughby and knowledge of his intentions. and Elinor. Get any book for free on: www. where the country. But at length she was secured by the exertions of ." cried Marianne. it was a man on horseback riding towards them. to screen Marianne from particularity. but she dispersed her tears to smile on HIM. a third. it is indeed. Amongst the objects in the scene. her heart sunk within her. He was the only person in the world who could at that moment be forgiven for not being Willoughby. If her sisters intended to walk on the downs. One morning. and she turned round with surprise to see and welcome Edward Ferrars. from a spot which they had never happened to reach in any of their walks before. They were soon within thirty yards of the gentleman. lay before them. Marianne looked again. a long stretch of the road which they had travelled on first coming to Barton. and abruptly turning round. They walked along the road through the valley. who greatly disapproved such continual seclusion. satisfied with gaining one point. I knew how soon he would come. his horse. The person is not tall enough for him. and on reaching that point. his coat. as she felt almost certain of its not being Willoughby. instead of wandering away by herself. Hitherto she had carefully avoided every companion in her rambles. they soon discovered an animated one. "I am sure he has. and in her sister's happiness forgot for a time her own disappointment. when Elinor cried out. and examine a prospect which formed the distance of their view from the cottage.Abika. when the voices of both her sisters were raised to detain her. was less wild and more open. she directly stole away towards the lanes. the only one who could have gained a smile from her. about a week after his leaving the country. she was as speedy in climbing the hills. for Marianne's MIND could not be controlled. "Indeed. and could never be found when the others set off." She walked eagerly on as she spoke. and Elinor. almost as well known as Willoughby's. they stopped to look around them. I think you are mistaken. he has. Marianne was prevailed on to join her sisters in their usual walk. she was hurrying back.

dear Norland look?" cried Marianne. "I was at Norland about a month ago. the meeting between Edward and her sister was but a continuation of that unaccountable coldness which she had often observed at Norland in their mutual behaviour." said Elinor. "Have you been lately in Sussex?" said Elinor. as every feeling must end with her.Abika. "probably looks much as it always does at this time of the year. "with what transporting sensation have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted. dear Norland. She began almost to feel a dislike of Edward. and distinguished Elinor by no mark of affection. "who has your passion for dead leaves. more . Marianne saw and listened with increasing surprise. looked neither rapturous nor gay. Marianne asked Edward if he came directly from London. as I walked. not often Get any book for free on: www. but especially by Marianne. and driven as much as possible from the sight. He was welcomed by them all with great cordiality. On Edward's side." "No. by carrying back her thoughts to Willoughby." "It is not every one. whither he was purposely coming to visit them. "Dear." "And how does dear. No. surprised at his being so long in the same county with Elinor without seeing her before. "A fortnight!" she repeated. to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they. who showed more warmth of regard in her reception of him than even Elinor herself. the season. and giving his horse to his servant. He was confused. To Marianne. he had been in Devonshire a fortnight." cried Marianne. He looked rather distressed as he added. whose manners formed a contrast sufficiently striking to those of his brother elect. and it ended. the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance. The woods and walks thickly covered with dead leaves. indeed. swept hastily off. my feelings are not often shared." "Oh. that he had been staying with some friends near Plymouth. walked back with them to Barton. there was a deficiency of all that a lover ought to look and say on such an occasion." said Elinor. After a short silence which succeeded the first surprise and enquiries of meeting. said little but what was forced from him by questions.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 60 He dismounted. seemed scarcely sensible of pleasure in seeing them.

and treated him as she thought he ought to be treated from the family connection. extorting from him occasional questions and remarks. "how can you say so? How can you be so unjust? They are a very respectable family. reserve could not stand against such a reception." said she." "Marianne. but resolving to regulate her behaviour to him by the past rather than the present. amongst those woods and plantations.Abika. "Have you an agreeable neighbourhood here? Middletons pleasant people?" Are the "No. They had begun to fail him before he entered the house. she avoided every appearance of resentment or displeasure. His coldness and reserve mortified her severely. Look up to it. beneath that farthest hill. "among the rest of the objects before me. You may see the end of the . CHAPTER 17 Mrs.--but rousing herself again." "It is a beautiful country. for his coming to Barton was. and directing her attention to their visitor. And there. Her joy and expression of regard long outlived her wonder. coldness. is our cottage. endeavoured to support something like discourse with him. with such objects before you?" "Because. I see a very dirty lane. and be tranquil if you can." replied he. "nor how many painful moments. Mr. &c. by talking of their present residence. Look at those hills! Did you ever see their equals? To the left is Barton park. "Now." Elinor took no notice of this. Ferrars. its conveniences." cried her sister. smiling." he replied.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 61 understood. which rises with such grandeur." "How can you think of dirt. of all things the most natural. calling his attention to the prospect. she was vexed and half angry. in her opinion. "we could not be more unfortunately situated. "but these bottoms must be dirty in winter. how many pleasant days we have owed to them?" "No." "How strange!" said Marianne to herself as she walked on. "here is Barton valley. Marianne. Dashwood was surprised only for a moment at seeing him. and towards us have behaved in the friendliest manner. and shyness." answered Marianne. But SOMETIMES they are. Edward. He received the kindest welcome from her." said Marianne. Have you forgot."--As she said this. not all. and they were quite overcome Get any book for free on: www. in a low voice. she sunk into a reverie for a few moments.

admired its prospect. I have no wish to be distinguished. Ferrars's views for you at present. Indeed a man could not very well be in love with either of her daughters. and no assurance. when dinner was over and they had drawn round the fire. smiling. you may find it a difficult matter. no affection for strangers." "You have no ambition.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 62 by the captivating manners of Mrs. was attentive." "I shall not attempt it. I wish as well as every body else to be perfectly happy. as far as mere self is concerned." said Elinor. "we may come to the same point. He was not in spirits. without extending the passion to her. no profession. sat down to table indignant against all selfish parents." said Elinor. he praised their house. it can afford no real . but. are all moderate. and with no inclination for expense. attributing it to some want of liberality in his mother. YOUR competence and MY wealth are very much alike. Beyond a competence." Your wishes "As moderate as those of the rest of the world. I dare say. Your ideas are only more noble than mine.Abika." "Perhaps. what is your competence?" "About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year. The whole family perceived it. but still he was not in spirits. and have every reason to hope I never shall." "Strange that it would!" cried Marianne. Come. and Elinor had the satisfaction of seeing him soon become more like himself. and his interest in their welfare again became perceptible. Thank Heaven! I cannot be forced into genius and eloquence. "What are Mrs." "Elinor. I well know. Greatness will not make me so. Edward?" said she. I believe. wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?" "What have "Grandeur has but little. not more than THAT. "money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it. I hope my mother is now convinced that I have no more talents than inclination for a public life!" "But how is your fame to be established? for famous you must be to satisfy all your family. Dashwood. Dashwood. His affections seemed to reanimate towards them all. for shame!" said Marianne. as the world goes now. "but wealth has much to do with it. and Mrs. and without them. however." Get any book for free on: www. we shall both agree that every kind of external comfort must be wanting. like every body else it must be in my own way. "are you still to be a great orator in spite of yourself?" "No. and kind.

and her cheeks glowing with the delight of such imaginary happiness." "Oh dear!" cried ." observed Elinor." "I love to be reminded of the past. "how happy I should be! I wonder what I should do with it!" Marianne looked as if she had no doubt on that point. there would not be music enough in London to content her. perhaps two. "in spite of the insufficiency of wealth.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 63 Elinor laughed. Scott--she would buy them all over and over again: she would buy up every copy. Edward--whether it be melancholy or gay. and she would have every book that tells her how to admire an old twisted tree. music-sellers. I love to recall it--and you Get any book for free on: www. if I am very saucy." "I wish.Abika. I believe. and hunters. "in such an event! What a happy day for booksellers. And books!--Thomson. "TWO thousand a year! ONE is my wealth! I guessed how it would end. "We are all unanimous in that wish. A proper establishment of servants. "A family cannot well be maintained on a smaller. "that somebody would give us all a large fortune apiece!" "Oh that they would!" cried Marianne. Marianne? Forgive me. But I was willing to shew you that I had not forgot our old disputes. Cowper. "Hunters!" repeated Edward--"but why must you have hunters? Every body does not hunt. and print-shops! You. her eyes sparkling with animation. "But most people do. to prevent their falling into unworthy hands. Miss Dashwood. striking out a novel thought." Elinor smiled again." said Mrs. I suppose." "And yet two thousand a-year is a very moderate income. would give a general commission for every new print of merit to be sent you--and as for Marianne. "and your difficulties will soon vanish. "I should be puzzled to spend so large a fortune myself." "What magnificent orders would travel from this family to London. I am sure I am not extravagant in my demands. I know her greatness of soul. a carriage." said Margaret." said Elinor. to hear her sister describing so accurately their future expenses at Combe Magna. Dashwood. "if my children were all to be rich my help. Should not you." Marianne coloured as she replied." "You must begin your improvements on this house." said Marianne. cannot be supported on less." said Edward.

I thought our judgments were given us merely to be subservient to those of neighbours. never." "Nor do I think it a part of Marianne's. that no one can ever be in love more than once in their life--your opinion on that point is unchanged. "and yet I have always set her down as a lively girl. you would bestow it as a reward on that person who wrote the ablest defence of your favourite maxim. and I can hardly tell why or in what the deception originated. You are very right in supposing how my money would be spent--some of it." "I believe you are right." said Marianne. or ingenious or stupid than they really are." "She is only grown a little more grave than she was. "to be guided wholly by the opinion of other people. "you need not reproach me. Elinor. My doctrine has never aimed at the subjection of the understanding.Abika." "No. "I should hardly call her a lively girl--she is very earnest." "Marianne is as steadfast as ever." said Elinor." "Nay. It is not likely that I should now see or hear any thing to change them." said Elinor." "I have frequently detected myself in such kind of mistakes." said Marianne." "Why should you think so!" replied he. you see." said Elinor. All I have ever attempted to influence has been the behaviour. I presume?" "Undoubtedly. I am sure. You are not very gay yourself. Marianne. At my time of life opinions are tolerably fixed. I should have something else to do with it. "in a total misapprehension of character in some point or other: fancying people so much more gay or grave. This has always been your doctrine. "But gaiety never was a part of MY character. "she is not at all altered." "And the bulk of your fortune would be laid out in annuities on the authors or their heirs. Sometimes one is guided by what they say of themselves." "But I thought it was right.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 64 will never offend me by talking of former times." he replied. Edward. and very frequently by what other people say of them. very eager in all she does--sometimes talks a great deal and always with animation--but she is not often really . at least--my loose cash would certainly be employed in improving my collection of music and books. then. Edward." "No." "Perhaps. Get any book for free on: www. with a sigh. without giving oneself time to deliberate and judge.

" "I do not understand you. she said to him. His gravity and thoughtfulness returned on him in their fullest extent--and he sat for some time silent and dull. "is all on your side of the question. "and that is worse.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 65 You must not confound my meaning." said Edward to Elinor. "Do not you know my sister well enough to understand what she means? Do not you know she calls every one reserved who does not talk as fast." Edward started--"Reserved! Am I reserved." he returned." replied Elinor. I never wish to offend. and admire what she admires as rapturously as herself?" Edward made no answer. in what manner? What am I to tell you? What can you suppose?" Elinor looked surprised at his emotion. "Do you gain no ground?" "Quite the contrary. but trying to laugh off the subject." said Marianne. CHAPTER 18 Get any book for free on: www. when I am only kept back by my natural awkwardness. "Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in some way or . "My judgment. colouring. but when have I advised you to adopt their sentiments or to conform to their judgment in serious matters?" "You have not been able to bring your sister over to your plan of general civility. but I am so foolishly shy. I am guilty. I am so little at my ease among strangers of gentility!" "Marianne has not shyness to excuse any inattention of hers. "Reserved!--how. looking expressively at Marianne. I confess. very. "She knows her own worth too well for false shame. Marianne?" "Yes. of having often wished you to treat our acquaintance in general with greater attention." replied Edward. but I am afraid my practice is much more on your sister's." said Elinor." "But you would still be reserved. that I often seem negligent.Abika. If I could persuade myself that my manners were perfectly easy and graceful. I have frequently thought that I must have been intended by nature to be fond of low company. I should not be shy." replied he.

" said Marianne. the woods seem full of fine timber. I shall call hills steep. I call it a very fine country--the hills are steep. which ought to be bold. I shall be back again presently.Abika. and I shall offend you by my ignorance and want of taste if we come to particulars. "but why should you boast of it?" Get any book for free on: www. which ought to be irregular and rugged. and distant objects out of sight. but these are all lost on me. while his own enjoyment in it appeared so imperfect. and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding one. was astonished to see Edward himself come out. and she was beginning to describe her own admiration of these scenes. with great uneasiness the low spirits of her friend. I know nothing of the picturesque. I can easily believe it to be full of rocks and promontories. but hitherto the continuance of his preference seemed very uncertain. grey moss and brush wood. when Edward interrupted her by saying. in his walk to the village. He joined her and Marianne in the breakfast-room the next morning before the others were down. because it unites beauty with utility--and I dare say it is a picturesque one too. and the valley looks comfortable and snug--with rich meadows and several neat farm houses scattered here and there. "You must not enquire too far. because you admire it." "I am afraid it is but too true. and. she wished it were equally evident that he still distinguished her by the same affection which once she had felt no doubt of inspiring. But before she was half way upstairs she heard the parlour door ." said be. soon left them to themselves. and Marianne. he had seen many parts of the valley to advantage. His visit afforded her but a very partial satisfaction. Marianne--remember I have no knowledge in the picturesque. "I am going into the village to see my horses. which ought only to be indistinct through the soft medium of a hazy atmosphere. You must be satisfied with such admiration as I can honestly give. and to question him more minutely on the objects that had particularly struck him." *** Edward returned to them with fresh admiration of the surrounding country. This was a subject which ensured Marianne's attention. which had exceedingly pleased him. who was always eager to promote their happiness as far as she could. and the village itself. "as you are not yet ready for breakfast.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 66 Elinor saw. It was evident that he was unhappy. afforded a general view of the whole. in a much higher situation than the cottage. surfaces strange and uncouth. turning round. It exactly answers my idea of a fine country.

But I should have thought her hair had been darker." Marianne spoke inconsiderately what she really felt-but when she saw how much she had pained Edward. very conspicuous on one of his fingers. Edward here falls into another. happy villages please me better than the finest banditti in the world. twisted. straight. That the hair was her own. it is my sister's hair. He is fastidious and will have an affectation of his own. he affects greater indifference and less discrimination in viewing them himself than he possesses. Elinor only laughed. "I never saw you wear a ring before." "I am convinced. and flourishing. with compassion at her sister. and is disgusted with such pretensions. I admire them much more if they are tall. you know. with a plait of hair in the centre. replied. and giving a momentary glance at Elinor. Elinor was conscious must have been Get any book for free on: www. she instantaneously felt as well satisfied as Marianne. He coloured very deeply.Abika. that what Marianne considered as a free gift from her sister. and Marianne remained thoughtfully . The setting always casts a different shade on it. in return. and sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself." said Elinor. her own vexation at her want of thought could not be surpassed by his. Dashwood. because I could find no language to describe them in but what was worn and hackneyed out of all sense and meaning. "Yes. "that to avoid one kind of affectation. his hand passed so directly before her.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 67 "I suspect. and in taking his tea from Mrs. the only difference in their conclusions was. But. till a new object suddenly engaged her attention. Because he believes many people pretend to more admiration of the beauties of nature than they really feel." said Edward. but not on picturesque principles. I do not like crooked." said Marianne. The subject was continued no farther. tattered cottages. as to make a ring. I like a fine prospect. "Is that Fanny's hair? I remember her promising to give you some." "It is very true." Marianne looked with amazement at Edward. I am not fond of nettles or thistles. Edward. She was sitting by Edward. I detest jargon of every kind." she cried. "that admiration of landscape scenery is become a mere jargon. your sister must allow me to feel no more than I profess. "that you really feel all the delight in a fine prospect which you profess to feel. I have more pleasure in a snug farm-house than a watch-tower--and a troop of tidy. blasted trees. or heath blossoms." Elinor had met his eye. I do not like ruined. Every body pretends to feel and tries to describe with the taste and elegance of him who first defined what picturesque beauty was. and looked conscious likewise.

Edward's embarrassment lasted some time. Marianne severely censured herself for what she had said." cried Sir John.Abika. "You MUST drink tea with us to night. She gave him a brief reply. by whom he was sitting. Edward saw enough to comprehend. came to take a survey of the guest. how far their penetration. Sir John was not long in discovering that the name of Ferrars began with an F. "And that will tempt YOU. On the present occasion. had she known how little offence it had given her sister. and Marianne's blushing. With the assistance of his mother-in-law. gave new suspicions to Edward. and affecting to take no notice of what passed. He was particularly grave the whole morning. Miss Marianne. he wished to engage them for both. for we shall be a large party. to Miss Dashwood. as it was. or to drink tea with them that evening. who. she only learned.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 68 procured by some theft or contrivance unknown to herself." This. for the better entertainment of their visitor. she internally resolved henceforward to catch every opportunity of eyeing the hair and of satisfying herself. Before the middle of the day." said he. in a low voice. which nothing but the newness of their acquaintance with Edward could have prevented from being immediately sprung. extended. from some very significant looks. however. Get any book for free on: www. "And who knows but you may raise a dance.--What! you thought nobody could dance because a certain person that shall be nameless is gone!" "I wish with all my soul. and this prepared a future mine of raillery against the devoted Elinor. and Whitakers to be sure. Sir John never came to the Dashwoods without either inviting them to dine at the park the next day. beyond all doubt." said she. "for we shall be quite alone--and tomorrow you must absolutely dine with us. She was not in a humour. "And who is Willoughby?" said he." "A dance!" cried Marianne. But. but her own forgiveness might have been more speedy. having heard of the arrival of a gentleman at the cottage. "Impossible! Who is to dance?" "Who! why . Jennings enforced the necessity. Jennings. they were visited by Sir John and Mrs. and the Careys." Mrs. founded on Margaret's instructions. and it ended in an absence of mind still more settled. that it was exactly the shade of her own. Marianne's countenance was more communicative. by instantly talking of something else. "that Willoughby were among us again. towards whose amusement he felt himself bound to contribute. to regard it as an affront.



not only the meaning of others, but such of Marianne's expressions as had puzzled him before; and when their visitors left them, he went immediately round her, and said, in a whisper, "I have been guessing. Shall I tell you my guess?" "What do you mean?" "Shall I tell you." "Certainly." "Well then; I guess that Mr. Willoughby hunts." Marianne was surprised and confused, yet she could not help smiling at the quiet archness of his manner, and after a moment's silence, said, "Oh, Edward! How can you?--But the time will come I hope...I am sure you will like him." "I do not doubt it," replied he, rather astonished at her earnestness and warmth; for had he not imagined it to be a joke for the good of her acquaintance in general, founded only on a something or a nothing between Mr. Willoughby and herself, he would not have ventured to mention it.


Edward remained a week at the cottage; he was earnestly pressed by Mrs. Dashwood to stay longer; but, as if he were bent only on self-mortification, he seemed resolved to be gone when his enjoyment among his friends was at the height. His spirits, during the last two or three days, though still very unequal, were greatly improved--he grew more and more partial to the house and environs--never spoke of going away without a sigh--declared his time to be wholly disengaged--even doubted to what place he should go when he left them--but still, go he must. Never had any week passed so quickly--he could hardly believe it to be gone. He said so repeatedly; other things he said too, which marked the turn of his feelings and gave the lie to his actions. He had no pleasure at Norland; he detested being in town; but either to Norland or London, he must go. He valued their kindness beyond any thing, and his greatest happiness was in being with them. Yet, he must leave them at the end of a week, in spite of their wishes and his own, and without any restraint on his time. Elinor placed all that was astonishing in this way of acting to his mother's account; and it was happy for her that he had a mother whose character was so imperfectly known to her, as to be the general

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excuse for every thing strange on the part of her son. Disappointed, however, and vexed as she was, and sometimes displeased with his uncertain behaviour to herself, she was very well disposed on the whole to regard his actions with all the candid allowances and generous qualifications, which had been rather more painfully extorted from her, for Willoughby's service, by her mother. His want of spirits, of openness, and of consistency, were most usually attributed to his want of independence, and his better knowledge of Mrs. Ferrars's disposition and designs. The shortness of his visit, the steadiness of his purpose in leaving them, originated in the same fettered inclination, the same inevitable necessity of temporizing with his mother. The old well-established grievance of duty against will, parent against child, was the cause of all. She would have been glad to know when these difficulties were to cease, this opposition was to yield,--when Mrs. Ferrars would be reformed, and her son be at liberty to be happy. But from such vain wishes she was forced to turn for comfort to the renewal of her confidence in Edward's affection, to the remembrance of every mark of regard in look or word which fell from him while at Barton, and above all to that flattering proof of it which he constantly wore round his finger. "I think, Edward," said Mrs. Dashwood, as they were at breakfast the last morning, "you would be a happier man if you had any profession to engage your time and give an interest to your plans and actions. Some inconvenience to your friends, indeed, might result from it--you would not be able to give them so much of your time. But (with a smile) you would be materially benefited in one particular at least--you would know where to go when you left them." "I do assure you," he replied, "that I have long thought on this point, as you think now. It has been, and is, and probably will always be a heavy misfortune to me, that I have had no necessary business to engage me, no profession to give me employment, or afford me any thing like independence. But unfortunately my own nicety, and the nicety of my friends, have made me what I am, an idle, helpless being. We never could agree in our choice of a profession. I always preferred the church, as I still do. But that was not smart enough for my family. They recommended the army. That was a great deal too smart for me. The law was allowed to be genteel enough; many young men, who had chambers in the Temple, made a very good appearance in the first circles, and drove about town in very knowing gigs. But I had no inclination for the law, even in this less abstruse study of it, which my family approved. As for the navy, it had fashion on its side, but I was too old when the subject was first started to enter it--and, at length, as there was no necessity for my having any profession at all, as I might be as dashing and expensive without a red coat on my back as with one, idleness was pronounced

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on the whole to be most advantageous and honourable, and a young man of eighteen is not in general so earnestly bent on being busy as to resist the solicitations of his friends to do nothing. I was therefore entered at Oxford and have been properly idle ever since." "The consequence of which, I suppose, will be," said Mrs. Dashwood, "since leisure has not promoted your own happiness, that your sons will be brought up to as many pursuits, employments, professions, and trades as Columella's." "They will be brought up," said he, in a serious accent, "to be as unlike myself as is possible. In feeling, in action, in condition, in every thing." "Come, come; this is all an effusion of immediate want of spirits, Edward. You are in a melancholy humour, and fancy that any one unlike yourself must be happy. But remember that the pain of parting from friends will be felt by every body at times, whatever be their education or state. Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience--or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope. Your mother will secure to you, in time, that independence you are so anxious for; it is her duty, and it will, it must ere long become her happiness to prevent your whole youth from being wasted in discontent. How much may not a few months do?" "I think," replied Edward, "that I may defy many months to produce any good to me." This desponding turn of mind, though it could not be communicated to Mrs. Dashwood, gave additional pain to them all in the parting, which shortly took place, and left an uncomfortable impression on Elinor's feelings especially, which required some trouble and time to subdue. But as it was her determination to subdue it, and to prevent herself from appearing to suffer more than what all her family suffered on his going away, she did not adopt the method so judiciously employed by Marianne, on a similar occasion, to augment and fix her sorrow, by seeking silence, solitude and idleness. Their means were as different as their objects, and equally suited to the advancement of each. Elinor sat down to her drawing-table as soon as he was out of the house, busily employed herself the whole day, neither sought nor avoided the mention of his name, appeared to interest herself almost as much as ever in the general concerns of the family, and if, by this conduct, she did not lessen her own grief, it was at least prevented from unnecessary increase, and her mother and sisters were spared much solicitude on her account. Such behaviour as this, so exactly the reverse of her own, appeared no more meritorious to Marianne,

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than her own had seemed faulty to her. The business of self-command she settled very easily;--with strong affections it was impossible, with calm ones it could have no merit. That her sister's affections WERE calm, she dared not deny, though she blushed to acknowledge it; and of the strength of her own, she gave a very striking proof, by still loving and respecting that sister, in spite of this mortifying conviction. Without shutting herself up from her family, or leaving the house in determined solitude to avoid them, or lying awake the whole night to indulge meditation, Elinor found every day afforded her leisure enough to think of Edward, and of Edward's behaviour, in every possible variety which the different state of her spirits at different times could produce,--with tenderness, pity, approbation, censure, and doubt. There were moments in abundance, when, if not by the absence of her mother and sisters, at least by the nature of their employments, conversation was forbidden among them, and every effect of solitude was produced. Her mind was inevitably at liberty; her thoughts could not be chained elsewhere; and the past and the future, on a subject so interesting, must be before her, must force her attention, and engross her memory, her reflection, and her fancy. From a reverie of this kind, as she sat at her drawing-table, she was roused one morning, soon after Edward's leaving them, by the arrival of company. She happened to be quite alone. The closing of the little gate, at the entrance of the green court in front of the house, drew her eyes to the window, and she saw a large party walking up to the door. Amongst them were Sir John and Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, but there were two others, a gentleman and lady, who were quite unknown to her. She was sitting near the window, and as soon as Sir John perceived her, he left the rest of the party to the ceremony of knocking at the door, and stepping across the turf, obliged her to open the casement to speak to him, though the space was so short between the door and the window, as to make it hardly possible to speak at one without being heard at the other. "Well," said he, "we have brought you some strangers. How do you like them?" "Hush! they will hear you." "Never mind if they do. It is only the Palmers. Charlotte is very pretty, I can tell you. You may see her if you look this way." As Elinor was certain of seeing her in a couple of minutes, without taking that liberty, she begged to be excused. "Where is Marianne? Has she run away because we

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are come? I see her instrument is open." "She is walking, I believe." They were now joined by Mrs. Jennings, who had not patience enough to wait till the door was opened before she told HER story. She came hallooing to the window, "How do you do, my dear? How does Mrs. Dashwood do? And where are your sisters? What! all alone! you will be glad of a little company to sit with you. I have brought my other son and daughter to see you. Only think of their coming so suddenly! I thought I heard a carriage last night, while we were drinking our tea, but it never entered my head that it could be them. I thought of nothing but whether it might not be Colonel Brandon come back again; so I said to Sir John, I do think I hear a carriage; perhaps it is Colonel Brandon come back again"-Elinor was obliged to turn from her, in the middle of her story, to receive the rest of the party; Lady Middleton introduced the two strangers; Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret came down stairs at the same time, and they all sat down to look at one another, while Mrs. Jennings continued her story as she walked through the passage into the parlour, attended by Sir John. Mrs. Palmer was several years younger than Lady Middleton, and totally unlike her in every respect. She was short and plump, had a very pretty face, and the finest expression of good humour in it that could possibly be. Her manners were by no means so elegant as her sister's, but they were much more prepossessing. She came in with a smile, smiled all the time of her visit, except when she laughed, and smiled when she went away. Her husband was a grave looking young man of five or six and twenty, with an air of more fashion and sense than his wife, but of less willingness to please or be pleased. He entered the room with a look of self-consequence, slightly bowed to the ladies, without speaking a word, and, after briefly surveying them and their apartments, took up a newspaper from the table, and continued to read it as long as he staid. Mrs. Palmer, on the contrary, who was strongly endowed by nature with a turn for being uniformly civil and happy, was hardly seated before her admiration of the parlour and every thing in it burst forth. "Well! what a delightful room this is! I never saw anything so charming! Only think, Mamma, how it is improved since I was here last! I always thought it such a sweet place, ma'am! (turning to Mrs. Dashwood) but you have made it so charming! Only look, sister, how delightful every thing is! How I should like such a house for myself! Should not you, Mr. Palmer?"

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"You may believe how glad we all were to see them. Mrs. she longed so much to see you all!" Mrs. "No. "he never does sometimes. and did not even raise his eyes from the newspaper. however. that it had been quite an agreeable surprise. "Mr. "Here comes Marianne." he replied. on seeing their friends. Palmer's eye was now caught by the drawings which hung round the room. I wanted her to stay at home and rest this morning. opened the front door." "Now. you shall see a monstrous pretty girl." continued Mrs. Jennings. Mrs. two or three times over. and Mrs. Dashwood. and said it would not do her any harm. and read on." added Mrs." said she. Jennings. and then returned to his newspaper. nor made such a long journey of it. Palmer laughed so heartily at the question. if she had not been to Allenham. "Oh! dear. and every body agreed." cried Sir John. Mrs. stared at her some minutes. as to show she understood it. as soon as she appeared. "but. Mr. Lady Middleton could no longer endure such a conversation. in the meantime. though they were seated on different sides of the room. She got up to examine them. the evening . Mrs. I can't help wishing they had not travelled quite so fast. He immediately went into the passage.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 74 Mr. laughing. leaning forward towards Elinor. and could not help looking with surprise at them both. for you know (nodding significantly and pointing to her daughter) it was wrong in her situation. Jennings asked her. Palmer laughed heartily at the recollection of their astonishment. Palmer looked up on her entering the room. Palmer made her no answer. Palmer laughed. how beautiful these are! Well! how delightful! Get any book for free on: www.Abika. Palmer if there was any news in the paper. talked on as loud as she could. she had never been used to find wit in the inattention of any one. "She expects to be confined in February. none at all. Jennings. and continued her account of their surprise. It is so ridiculous!" This was quite a new idea to Mrs. Palmer does not hear me. without ceasing till every thing was told. and therefore exerted herself to ask Mr. Palmer. for they came all round by London upon account of some business. but she would come with us. and speaking in a low voice as if she meant to be heard by no one else. and ushered her in himself.

com . Palmer joined their entreaties. They attempted. The alteration is not in them. and only observed. her daughters might do as they pleased.Abika. how sweet! I declare they are quite charming." CHAPTER 20 the the She and As the Miss Dashwoods entered the drawing-room of the park next day. at one door. laid down the newspaper. Get any book for free on: www. likewise. "My love. took them all most affectionately by the hand. Lady Middleton too. looking as good humoured and merry as before. and departed with the rest. who did not chuse to dine with them oftener than they dined at the cottage. "by these frequent invitations. and that the ceiling was crooked. Mrs. absolutely refused on her own account. Dashwood. He then made his bow. pressed them. "I am so glad to see you!" said she. I could look at them for ever. that it was very low pitched. as soon as they were gone. than by those which we received from them a few weeks ago. laughing. But they had no curiosity to see how Mr. Palmer rose also. after again examining the room. to excuse themselves. Palmer ate their dinner. But Sir John would not be satisfied--the carriage should be sent for them and they must come. and not likely to be good. and Mrs. or with us. We must look for the change elsewhere. have you been asleep?" said his wife. When Lady Middleton rose to go away. but we have it on very hard terms." said Elinor. expressed great delight in seeing them again. seating herself between Elinor and Marianne. "for it is so bad a day I was afraid you might not come. mama. which would be a shocking thing. Mrs. He made her no answer. the weather was uncertain. Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. all seemed equally anxious to avoid a family party. though she did not press their mother. therefore. she very soon forgot that there were any such things in the room. if their parties are grown tedious and dull." "They mean no less to be civil and kind to us now. and no expectation of pleasure from them in any other way. Sir John had been very urgent with them all to spend the next day at the park. "Why should they ask us?" said Marianne. and the young ladies were obliged to yield." And then sitting down again. "The rent of this cottage is said to be low. stretched himself and looked at them all around.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 75 Do but look. if we are to dine at the park whenever any one is staying either with them. Mr. Palmer came running in at other.

" said Mrs. but they say it is a sweet pretty place." "Much nearer thirty. "you have not been able to take your usual walk to Allenham today. "How horrid all this is!" said he. We do not live a great way from him in the country. I hope. next door to ours. but were obliged to resist all her entreaties." said her husband." cried Mrs. don't be so sly before us. "Not go to town!" cried Mrs. You must come. Dashwood should not like to go into public. and after slightly bowing to the ladies. We must . I am sure I shall be very happy to chaperon you at any time till I am confined. Not above ten miles. He is so droll! He never tells me any thing! I am so sorry we cannot stay longer. Palmer. It was quite a sudden thing our coming at all. "Oh. Get any book for free on: www." Her love made no answer. Palmer asked me if I would go with him to Barton. "I shall be quite disappointed if you do not. if Mrs. you know. It makes one detest all one's acquaintance. for I think he is extremely handsome. I dare say." The rest of the company soon dropt in. Miss Marianne. who just then entered the room--"you must help me to persuade the Miss Dashwoods to go to town this winter. I never was at his house. and I admire your taste very much. I could get the nicest house in world for you." They thanked her. by rain." "As vile a spot as I ever saw in my life. Dullness is as much produced within doors as without.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 76 as we go away again tomorrow. Palmer. well! there is not much difference. however we shall meet again in town very soon. in Hanover-square. "Ah. with a laugh." said Mr." said Sir John. began complaining of the weather. and then Mr. "Such weather makes every thing and every body disgusting.Abika. What the devil does Sir John mean by not having a billiard room in his house? How few people know what comfort is! Sir John is as stupid as the weather. "Oh." They were obliged to put an end to such an expectation. and I knew nothing of it till the carriage was coming to the door. my love. Palmer to her husband. "for we know all about it. Palmer. indeed. for the Westons come to us next week you know." Marianne looked very grave and said nothing. "I am afraid. I assure you.

and exultingly said. So there I have the whip hand of you. she was highly diverted. insolence." said he to his lady. and when he scolded or abused her." "You and I. Why did not you ask the Gilberts to come to us today?" "Did not I tell you." "Ay. "Is it very ugly?" continued Mrs. Palmer. Palmer. "Do you know that you are quite rude?" "I did not know I contradicted any body in calling your mother ill-bred. that it could not be done? They dined with us last. as they must live together. to give him credit for being so genuinely and unaffectedly ill-natured or ill-bred as he wished to appear. "should not stand upon such ceremony. and discontent of her husband gave her no pain. "Mr. and his general abuse of every thing before him.Abika. or more determined to be happy than Mrs. when you spoke to me about it before." said his wife with her usual laugh. Sir John observed with regret that they were only eight all together. after a little observation. It was the desire of appearing superior to other people." "Then you would be very ill-bred." When they were seated in the dining room.--but she knew that this kind of blunder was too common for any sensible man to be lastingly hurt by it. His temper might perhaps be a little soured by finding. you may abuse me as you please. "My love you contradict every . Palmer--"then it must be some other place that is so pretty I suppose. "it is very provoking that we should be so few. It was impossible for any one to be more thoroughly good-natured. Sir John. Get any book for free on: www. The studied indifference. to Elinor. "you have taken Charlotte off my hands. he was the husband of a very silly woman.-It was rather a wish of distinction. in a whisper." cried Mr." Charlotte laughed heartily to think that her husband could not get rid of her. Jennings. she did not care how cross he was to her. and cannot give her back again. "My dear." said the good-natured old lady. like many others of his sex. Sir John. that through some unaccountable bias in favour of beauty. though her countenance betrayed her interest in what was said." said Mrs. which produced his contemptuous treatment of every body. she believed. "He is always out of humour." Elinor was not inclined. Palmer is so droll!" said she.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 77 Marianne remained perfectly silent.

"don't you long to have the Miss Dashwoods come to Cleveland?" "Certainly. Palmer excessively. poor fellow! it is very fatiguing to him! for he is forced to make every body like him." said Mrs. "when he is in Parliament!--won't it? How I shall laugh! It will be so ridiculous to see all his letters directed to him with an M. "Oh. were not likely to attach any one to him except his wife. Mr. for Mr. I am sure you will like it of all ." he replied." said he. Get any book for free on: www. and so many people came to dine with us that I never saw before. Palmer is always going about the country canvassing against the election. Palmer soon afterwards. by asking her whether she did not like Mr. so you cannot refuse to come. "But indeed you must and shall come." "There now." applying to her husband. you see how droll he is."--said his lady. but the means." "There now. You cannot think what a sweet place Cleveland is. This is always the way with him! Sometimes he won't speak to me for half a day together.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 78 The motive was too common to be wondered at. Palmer?" Mr. "I never said any thing so irrational. "you see Mr. he says." "No.Abika. Don't palm all your abuses of languages upon me. "He cannot bear writing. however they might succeed by establishing his superiority in ill-breeding." They both eagerly and resolutely declined her invitation.--and come while the Westons are with us. Palmer took no notice of her." She surprised Elinor very much as they returned into the drawing-room.--But do you know." Elinor could hardly keep her countenance as she assented to the hardship of such an obligation. and it will be quite delightful. The Westons will be with us. with a sneer--"I came into Devonshire with no other view.P. and then he comes out with something so droll--all about any thing in the world. Don't you. pray do. Palmer expects you. you know." said Charlotte. it is quite charming! But. You cannot think how happy I shall be! It will be quite delightful!--My love. and we are so gay now. he will never frank for me? He declares he won't." she continued-"he says it is quite shocking. Will you come and spend some time at Cleveland this Christmas? Now. "How charming it will be. my dear Miss Dashwood. "I have got such a favour to ask of you and your sister.

Somehow or other I never happened to be staying at Barton while he was at Allenham. I believe. To give such intelligence to a person who could not be interested in it.Abika. However. but I have seen him for ever in town. I do not think Mr. and Mr. very well." "Well--I am so glad you do. "he seems very agreeable. and by changing the subject.--I can't imagine why you should object to it. Palmer. and he told me of it directly.-but I was with my uncle at Weymouth. and whether they were intimately acquainted with him. even if it were true. I know him extremely ." "My dear Mrs. but if he were ever so much there." replied Mrs. "Oh dear. She began by inquiring if they saw much of Mr. than could be gathered from the Middletons' partial acquaintance with him. for then I shall have her for a neighbour you know." "Don't pretend to deny it. She thought it probable that as they lived in the same county." Elinor was again obliged to decline her invitation. I assure you I heard of it in my way through town. he is so pleasant. for he is in the opposition. and she was eager to gain from any one. just before we left town. you know. Palmer is excessively pleased with you and your sisters I can tell you. I thought you would. He is very little at Combe. and besides it is such a way off. because you know it is what every body talks of." "Upon my word. Palmer!" "Upon my honour I did." replied Elinor. put a stop to her entreaties. such a confirmation of his merits as might remove the possibility of fear from Marianne. is not what I should expect Colonel Brandon to do. Palmer might be able to give some more particular account of Willoughby's general character." "You surprise me very much. I dare say we should have seen a great deal of him in Somersetshire.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 79 "Certainly.--I met Colonel Brandon Monday morning in Bond-street. I am monstrous glad of it. Mama saw him here once before. "you know much more of the matter than I do. yes. I know why you inquire about him. Colonel Brandon tell you of it! Surely you must be mistaken." said Elinor. Willoughby at Cleveland. indeed. and you can't think how disappointed he will be if you don't come to Cleveland.--"Not that I ever spoke to him. Palmer would visit him. if you have any reason to expect such a match. your sister is to marry him. if it had not happened very unluckily that we should never have been in the country together." Get any book for free on: www. Mrs.

not but that he is much more lucky in getting her. for he hardly ever falls in love with any body. quite well. and so does Mr. I declare! When is it to take place?" "Mr. When we met him. Is it true. I don't think her hardly at all handsomer than you." shall always be I longed to see you! at the cottage! Get any book for free on: www.'" "And what did the Colonel say?" "Oh--he did not say much. as you have been in Devonshire so lately. She is a monstrous lucky girl to get him. Willoughby much known in your part of Somersetshire?" said Elinor. Nobody is more liked than Mr. "Oh! yes. for all that. Mamma says HE was in love with your sister too. for I think you both excessively pretty. 'So. Brandon was very well I hope?" "Oh! yes." Mrs.--He is such a charming man. however small.-I assure you it was a great compliment if he was. he turned back and walked with us. and so you may tell your sister. and one thing and another. there is a new family come to Barton cottage. I do not believe many people are acquainted with him. and that one of them is going to be married to Mr." "Is Mr. but any testimony in his favour. I assure . Colonel." "I am flattered by his commendation. so from that moment I set it down as certain. However. He seems an excellent man. Willoughby wherever he goes. though we could not get him to own it last night. and I think him uncommonly pleasing. because Combe Magna is so far off. Willoughby of Combe Magna. "I am so glad we are got acquainted continued Charlotte. It will be quite delightful. Palmer too I am sure. extremely well." "So do I. pray? for of course you must know. that is. was pleasing to her. and I will tell you how it happened. but he looked as if he knew it to be true. and so full of your praises. and I said to him. Palmer's information respecting Willoughby was not very material. You can't think how much It is so delightful that you should live at last. but they all think him extremely agreeable I assure you. I hear. that nothing can be good enough for her.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 80 "But I do assure you it was so. that it is quite a pity he should be so grave and so dull. he did nothing but say fine things of you.Abika. and mama sends me word they are very pretty. and so we began talking of my brother and sister.--"And now I hope we great friends. because she is so very handsome and agreeable. upon my honour.

" she added in a low . with good abilities. I am much happier as I am. but if mama had not objected to it. Elinor had hardly got their last visitors out of her head." "Did not Colonel Brandon know of Sir John's proposal to your mother before it was made? Had he never owned his affection to yourself?" "Oh. Their being her relations too made it so much the worse. But mama did not think the match good enough for me. and the two families at Barton were again left to entertain each other. It is a sweet place.-whose tolerable gentility even. a great while. by hearing that she was very soon to receive a visit from two girls whom she had never seen in her life. However. Jennings's active zeal in the cause of society. Palmer's acting so simply. and this was enough for Sir John to invite them directly to the park. to be sure! And I am so glad your sister is going to be well married! I hope you will be a great deal at Combe Magna. Palmer is the kind of man I like. at Mr. In a morning's excursion to Exeter. "he would have been very glad to have had me. whom Mrs." CHAPTER 21 The Palmers returned to Cleveland the next day. before Sir John's and Mrs. and Lady Middleton was thrown into no little alarm on the return of Sir John. if he could. and we should have been married immediately. Mr. had hardly done wondering at Charlotte's being so happy without a cause. for the assurances of her husband and mother on that subject went for nothing at all. I believe. otherwise Sir John would have mentioned it to the Colonel. they had met with two young ladies. and at the strange unsuitableness which often existed between husband and wife. and Mrs. procured her some other new acquaintance to see and observe.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 81 Nothing can be like it.Abika." "You have been long acquainted with Colonel Brandon. Sir John and Lady Middleton wished it very much. He had not seen me then above twice. no. and of whose elegance. I dare say he would have liked it of all things. But this did not last long. Jennings's attempts Get any book for free on: www. have not you?" "Yes. Their engagements at Exeter instantly gave way before such an invitation. she could have no proof. ever since my sister married. as soon as their present engagements at Exeter were over. Jennings had the satisfaction of discovering to be her relations. for it was before I left school. by all accounts.-He was a particular friend of Sir John's.

however. Elinor well knew that the sweetest girls in the world were to be met with in every part of England. who was nearly thirty. you know. You will be delighted with them I am sure. Benevolent. From such commendation as this. which for her ladyship was enthusiastic admiration." But Sir John could not prevail. They have brought the whole coach full of playthings for the children. under every possible variation of form. as if she was an old acquaintance. How can you be so cross as not to come? Why they are your cousins. "Do come now. Sir John's confidence in his own judgment rose with this animated praise. Get any book for free on: www. nothing to admire. their manners very civil. because they were all cousins and must put up with one another. and I have told them it is all very true. with all the philosophy of a well-bred woman." said he--"pray come--you must come--I declare you shall come--You can't think how you will like them. however. He could only obtain a promise of their calling at the Park within a day or two. and in raptures with the furniture. and then left them in amazement at their indifference. with a very plain and not a sensible face. and a great deal more. philanthropic man! It was painful to him even to keep a third cousin to himself. after a fashion. and to assure them of their being the sweetest girls in the world. face. She declared them to be very agreeable girls indeed. temper and understanding.Abika. And they both long to see you of all things. As it was impossible. When their promised visit to the Park and consequent introduction to these young ladies took . now to prevent their coming. Sir John wanted the whole family to walk to the Park directly and look at his guests. and so good humoured and agreeable! The children are all hanging about her already. Their dress was very smart. they were delighted with the house. as he had been already boasting of the Miss Steeles to them. and he set off directly for the cottage to tell the Miss Dashwoods of the Miss Steeles' arrival. contenting herself with merely giving her husband a gentle reprimand on the subject five or six times every day. and they happened to be so doatingly fond of children that Lady Middleton's good opinion was engaged in their favour before they had been an hour at the Park. they found in the appearance of the eldest. for they have heard at Exeter that you are the most beautiful creatures in the world. YOU are my cousins. to walk home and boast anew of their attractions to the Miss Steeles. The young ladies arrived: their appearance was by no means ungenteel or unfashionable. Lucy is monstrous pretty. and they are my wife's. when she advised her daughter not to care about their being so fashionable. Lady Middleton resigned herself to the idea of it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 82 at consolation were therefore unfortunately founded. there was not much to be learned. so you must be related.

without claiming a share in what was passing. which affection could suggest as likely to assuage the agonies of the little sufferer. she fondly observed. which though it did not give actual elegance or grace. on his taking Miss Steeles's pocket handkerchief. and a smartness of air. Fortunately for those who pay their court through such foibles." And soon afterwards. With her children they were in continual raptures. though. her demands are exorbitant. She saw with maternal complacency all the impertinent encroachments and mischievous tricks to which her cousins submitted. in so critical an emergency. The mother's consternation was excessive. It suggested no other surprise than that Elinor and Marianne should sit so composedly by. and Elinor soon allowed them credit for some kind of sense. and the excessive affection and endurance of the Miss Steeles towards her offspring were viewed therefore by Lady Middleton without the smallest surprise or distrust. but it could not surpass the alarm of the Miss Steeles. who had not made a noise for the last two minutes. and humouring their whims. their work-bags .SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 83 but in the other. when she saw with what constant and judicious attention they were making themselves agreeable to Lady Middleton. courting their notice. the most rapacious of human beings. "John is in such spirits today!" said she. and throwing it out of window--"He is full of monkey tricks. but she will swallow any thing. tenderly caressing a little girl of three years old. their hair pulled about their ears. gave distinction to her person. extolling their beauty. they acknowledged considerable beauty. if she happened to be doing any thing. Get any book for free on: www. "And she is always so gentle and quiet--Never was there such a quiet little thing!" But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces. in pursuit of praise for her children. and she had a sharp quick eye. on the second boy's violently pinching one of the same lady's fingers. produced from this pattern of gentleness such violent screams. or in taking patterns of some elegant new dress. a pin in her ladyship's head dress slightly scratching the child's neck." she added. a fond mother. and felt no doubt of its being a reciprocal enjoyment. as could hardly be outdone by any creature professedly noisy. and their knives and scissors stolen away.Abika. who was not more than two or three and twenty. "How playful William is!" "And here is my sweet little Annamaria. and every thing was done by all three. is likewise the most credulous. her features were pretty. and such of their time as could be spared from the importunate demands which this politeness made on it.-Their manners were particularly civil. was spent in admiration of whatever her ladyship was doing. in which her appearance the day before had thrown them into unceasing delight. She saw their sashes untied.

" said Lucy. some apricot marmalade had been successfully applied for a bruised temple. and all their united soothings were ineffectual till Lady Middleton luckily remembering that in a scene of similar distress last . "unless it had been under totally different circumstances." cried Marianne. always fell. by speaking of Lady Middleton with more warmth than she felt.-She was carried out of the room therefore in her mother's arms. in quest of this medicine. "And what a charming little family they have! I never saw such fine children in my life. "It might have been a very sad accident. and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by the other. and as the two boys chose to follow. and a slight intermission of screams in the young lady on hearing it. her wound bathed with lavender-water. being only simple and just. by one of the Miss Steeles. "Poor little creatures!" said Miss Steele. "you think the little Middletons rather too much indulged. kicked her two brothers for offering to touch her. though with far less than Miss Lucy. came in without any eclat.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 84 She was seated in her mother's lap. and upon Elinor therefore the whole task of telling lies when politeness required it. it was impossible for her to say what she did not feel. gave them reason to hope that it would not be rejected. Marianne was silent.Abika. the same remedy was eagerly proposed for this unfortunate scratch. She still screamed and sobbed lustily." cried the elder sister. and indeed I am always distractedly fond of children." "I have a notion. the four young ladies were left in a quietness which the room had not known for many hours. covered with kisses. where there is nothing to be alarmed at in reality." "Yet I hardly know how. with a smile." "I should guess so. perhaps they may be the outside of enough. who was on her knees to attend her.--I declare I quite doat upon them already. With such a reward for her tears. She merely observed that he was perfectly good humoured and friendly. the child was too wise to cease crying. but it is so natural in Lady Middleton." "What a sweet woman Lady Middleton is!" said Lucy Steele. Get any book for free on: www. Miss Dashwood's commendation. though earnestly entreated by their mother to stay behind. "from what I have witnessed this morning. as soon as they were gone. however trivial the occasion." said Elinor. "And Sir John too. She did her best when thus called on. But this is the usual way of heightening alarm. "what a charming man he is!" Here too.

and I was only afraid the Miss Dashwoods might find it dull at Barton. that if he ever was a beau before he married. or at least of the manner in which it was spoken. Now there's Mr. "who ever saw the place. if they had not so many as they used to have. Miss Dashwood. I never think of tame and quiet children with any abhorrence. looking ashamed of her sister.-I suppose your brother was quite a beau. quite a beau." Get any book for free on: www. I cannot bear them if they are tame and quiet. which was first broken by Miss Steele. But I can't bear to see them dirty and nasty. my dear. Miss Dashwood? I suppose you were very sorry to leave Sussex. But perhaps you young ladies may not care about the beaux. "Norland is a prodigious beautiful place." replied Elinor. "I think every one MUST admire it. "We have heard Sir John admire it excessively. Elinor replied that she was." replied Elinor. "that there are not as many genteel young men in Devonshire as Sussex?" "Nay. "And how do you like Devonshire. I think they are vastly agreeable. I'm sure there's a vast many smart beaux in Exeter." said Lucy. and who now said rather abruptly." replied Elinor. But this I can say. Rose at Exeter. though it is not to be supposed that any one can estimate its beauties as we do. clerk to Mr. I'm sure I don't pretend to say that there an't. he is not fit to be seen. is not it?" added Miss Steele. you know. how could I tell what smart beaux there might be about Norland. a prodigious smart young man." "I confess. for my part. Simpson. as he was so rich?" "Upon my word. provided they dress smart and behave civil. and yet if you do but meet him of a . for I do not perfectly comprehend the meaning of the word.Abika. For my part." "And had you a great many smart beaux there? I suppose you have not so many in this part of the world.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 85 and for my part. "that while I am at Barton Park. I love to see children full of life and spirits. and had as lief be without them as with them. who seemed very much disposed for conversation. he is one still for there is not the smallest alteration in him. I think they are a vast addition always. "I cannot tell you." A short pause succeeded this speech." In some surprise at the familiarity of this question. before he married. who seemed to think some apology necessary for the freedom of her sister." "But why should you think." said Lucy. but you know.

before the eldest of them wished her joy on her sister's having been so lucky as to make a conquest of a very smart beau since she came to Barton. and all his relations. which consists of sitting an hour or two together in the same room almost every day. and with whom they were particularly anxious to be better acquainted. "you can talk of nothing but beaux. "'Twill be a fine thing to have her to be sure. in his opinion." cried her sister." "Lord! Anne. for as Sir John was entirely on the side of the Miss Steeles. Not so the Miss Steeles. may have as good have a friend Elinor could not suppose that Sir John would be more nice in proclaiming his suspicions of her regard for Edward. he did every thing in his power to promote their unreserve. and while his continual schemes for their meeting were effectual. The vulgar freedom and folly of the eldest left her no recommendation. but he did not know that any more was required: to be together was. and since Edward's visit." married so young quite a beau. well provided with admiration for the use of Sir John Middleton. and no niggardly proportion was now dealt out to his fair . by making the Miss Steeles acquainted with whatever he knew or supposed of his cousins' situations in the most delicate particulars. she began admiring the house and the furniture. she left the house without any wish of knowing them better. This specimen of the Miss Steeles was enough.--but perhaps you may in the corner already. to her want of real elegance and artlessness. to be intimate. he had not a doubt of their being established friends." said she.Abika." And then to turn the discourse. they had never dined together without his drinking to her best affections with so much significancy and so many nods Get any book for free on: www.--and Elinor had not seen them more than twice.-And to be better acquainted therefore. And I hope you luck yourself soon. and that kind of intimacy must be submitted to.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 86 "Oh! dear! one never thinks of married men's being beaux--they have something else to do. as being somewhat newer and more conjectural. their party would be too strong for opposition. or the shrewd look of the youngest. his family. whom they declared to be the most beautiful. To do him justice.--you will make Miss Dashwood believe you think of nothing else. and agreeable girls they had ever beheld. than he had been with respect to Marianne. "and I hear he is and prodigious handsome. accomplished. Elinor soon found was their inevitable lot. indeed it was rather his favourite joke of the two.--They came from Exeter. and as Elinor was not blinded by the beauty. Sir John could do no more. elegant.

for it struck her as being rather ill-natured. But Sir John did not sport long with the curiosity which he delighted to raise. "Though we have seen him once or twice at my uncle's. which. for he had at least as much pleasure in telling the name. vulgarity. as Miss Steele had in hearing it. and for the first time in her life. or to encourage their advances. is he? What! your sister-in-law's . "His name is Ferrars. inferiority of parts.Abika. was at this time particularly ill-disposed. Ferrars is the happy man. or in a disposition to communicate it. for it's a great secret. and suggested the suspicion of that lady's knowing. as she expected. it is rather too much to pretend to know him very well. The Miss Steeles. that its character as the wittiest letter in the alphabet had been long established with Elinor. though often impertinently expressed. and to the invariable coldness of her behaviour towards them. or fancying herself to know something to his disadvantage. and found productive of such countless jokes. in a very audible whisper. Anne?" cried Lucy.--But her curiosity was unavailing. who had never much toleration for any thing like impertinence." Elinor heard all this with attention and surprise." said he. and in the eldest of them they raised a curiosity to know the name of the gentleman alluded to. though she did not chuse to join in it herself. who generally made an amendment to all her sister's assertions. but nothing more of it was said. to be pleased with the Miss Steeles." "How can you say so. "but pray do not tell it. CHAPTER 22 Marianne. Ferrars's name by Miss Steele when alluded to. The manner in which Miss Steele had spoken of Edward. she thought Mrs. Jennings deficient either in curiosity after petty information. Miss Dashwood? a very agreeable young man to be sure. "And who was this uncle? Where did he live? How came they acquainted?" She wished very much to have the subject continued." "Ferrars!" repeated Miss Steele. as to excite general attention. increased her curiosity. Elinor principally Get any book for free on: www. I know him very well. "Mr. or even openly mentioned by Sir John. which checked every endeavour at intimacy on their side. The letter F-had been likewise invariably brought forward. was perfectly of a piece with her general inquisitiveness into the concerns of their family. had now all the benefit of these jokes. for no farther notice was taken of Mr. or even difference of taste from herself. from the state of her spirits.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 87 and winks.

in spite of her constant endeavour to appear to advantage. "You will think my question an odd one. with less tenderness of feeling. Lucy was naturally clever. of rectitude. whose want of instruction prevented their meeting in conversation on terms of equality. and as a companion for half an hour Elinor frequently found her agreeable. but however I hope you will do me the justice of believing that I do not mean to be impertinent. but her powers had received no aid from education: she was ignorant and illiterate. and her countenance expressed it. "but perhaps there may be reasons--I wish I might venture. and pitied her for. the thorough want of delicacy. as she answered that she had never seen Mrs. eyeing Elinor attentively as she spoke." returned Elinor. cautious of giving her real opinion of Edward's mother. or of striving to improve their acquaintance by an easy and frank communication of her sentiments. "I wonder at that. and they walked on for a few minutes in silence. for enquiring about her in such a way. which her attentions. and not very desirous of satisfying what seemed impertinent curiosity-"I know nothing of her. but she saw. with some hesitation. It was broken by Lucy. for I thought you must have seen her at Norland sometimes. her want of information in the most common particulars. are you personally acquainted with your sister-in-law's . Get any book for free on: www. and integrity of mind. who missed no opportunity of engaging her in conversation. could not be concealed from Miss Dashwood. Ferrars. "Indeed!" replied Lucy.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 88 attributed that preference of herself which soon became evident in the manners of both. the neglect of abilities which education might have rendered so respectable. Then. and she could have no lasting satisfaction in the company of a person who joined insincerity with ignorance. Ferrars?" Elinor DID think the question a very odd one. and her deficiency of all mental improvement. who renewed the subject again by saying. I dare say. her assiduities." said Lucy. perhaps.Abika. as they were walking together from the park to the cottage--"but pray. Mrs. Elinor saw." Elinor made her a civil reply. but especially of Lucy. you cannot tell me what sort of a woman she is?" "No." said Lucy to her one day. her flatteries at the Park betrayed. and whose conduct toward others made every shew of attention and deference towards herself perfectly valueless. her remarks were often just and amusing." "I am sure you think me very strange.

but. "No. because it was always meant to be a great .Abika. unable to divine the reason or object of such a declaration." "I dare say you are. at so serious an inquiry into her character. there is no occasion to trouble YOU. in great astonishment. But really I never understood that you were at all connected with that family. "for to be sure you could have had no idea of it before." "I am sorry I do NOT. and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods quite Get any book for free on: www. "to his eldest brother. "You may well be surprised. you would not be so much surprised. Mrs. Ferrars can be displeased. "what do you mean? Are you acquainted with Mr. "Good heavens!" cried Elinor.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 89 "I cannot bear to have you think me impertinently curious. and I never should have mentioned it to you. for I dare say he never dropped the smallest hint of it to you or any of your family." What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment. Ferrars is certainly nothing to me at present--but the time MAY come--how soon it will come must depend upon herself--when we may be very intimately connected. Not a soul of all my relations know of it but Anne. and though her complexion varied." fixing her eyes upon Elinor. and I am sure has been faithfully kept so by me to this hour. Ferrars. because I know he has the highest opinion in the world of all your family. she stood firm in incredulity." said Elinor. ROBERT Ferrars--I never saw him in my life. I should be very glad of your advice how to manage in such and uncomfortable situation as I am. but." She looked down as she said this. She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement. "if it could be of any use to YOU to know my opinion of her. and therefore I am a little surprised. had not an immediate disbelief of the assertion attended it. if I had not felt the greatest dependence in the world upon your secrecy. And I am sure I should not have the smallest fear of trusting YOU. "not to Mr. I confess. I am sure I would rather do any thing in the world than be thought so by a person whose good opinion is so well worth having as yours. amiably bashful. when he knows I have trusted you." continued Lucy. indeed. with only one side glance at her companion to observe its effect on her. that it ought to be explained. or a swoon. And I do not think Mr. Ferrars must seem so odd. I am sorry you do not happen to know Mrs. however. and I really thought my behaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. and felt in no danger of an hysterical fit. that would have been as painful as it was strong." replied Lucy. and I am sure I do not at all wonder at it. But if I dared tell you all. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?" And she did not feel much delighted with the idea of such a sister-in-law.

but surely there must be some mistake of person or name. you know. "He was four years with my uncle. which increased with her increase of emotion. It was there our acquaintance begun. which tolerably well concealed her surprise and solicitude-"May I ask if your engagement is of long standing?" "We have been engaged these four years. Her astonishment at what she heard was at first too great for words. the eldest son of Mrs. Edward Ferrars!--I confess myself so totally surprised at what you tell me." "Your uncle!" "Yes. she said. but after a moment's reflection. and brother of your sister-in-law." cried Lucy. Get any book for free on: .SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 90 as his own sisters. "I did not know. Ferrars. without the knowledge and approbation of his mother. that really--I beg your pardon. smiling. and to speak cautiously. and loved him too well. she added. with revived security of Edward's honour and love. to be so prudent as I ought to have been.Abika. still felt unable to believe it. you must have seen enough of him to be sensible he is very capable of making a woman sincerely attached to him. John Dashwood. of Mr. He was under my uncle's care. a considerable while." answered Elinor. though greatly shocked. Ferrars. Elinor for a few moments remained silent. for my sister and me was often staying with my uncle." "We can mean no other. I was very unwilling to enter into it. Mrs. and it was there our engagement was formed." Elinor. with an exertion of spirits. Pratt. but at length forcing herself to speak. but he was almost always with us afterwards." "Four years!" "Yes. near Plymouth." "Our acquaintance.-Though you do not know him so well as me." said she. "that you were even acquainted till the other day. Miss Dashwood. We cannot mean the same Mr. Mr." "Certainly. though not till a year after he had quitted as a pupil. but I was too young. with calmness of manner. however. Edward Ferrars. "Mr. and her companion's falsehood--"Engaged to Mr. of Park Street. as you may imagine. is of many years date."--She paused. without knowing what she said. who lives at Longstaple. Pratt?" Did you never hear him talk "I think I have." replied Elinor.

or my family. for she would never approve of it. whatever other doubts her fear of a too hasty decision." "You are quite in the right." replied Elinor. in a most painful perplexity. "I am sure. she could have none of its being Edward's face. she added. acknowledging the likeness. Our first care has been to keep the matter secret. "I have no doubt in the world of your faithfully keeping this secret. Poor Edward! It puts him quite out of heart.--I have had it above these three years. They then proceeded a few paces in silence. considering our situation." Then taking a small miniature from her pocket. "I have never been able." "No." replied Elinor calmly.--Elinor's security sunk. or her wish of detecting falsehood might suffer to linger in her mind. "Four years you have been engaged. which I am very much vexed at. it was not strange. "that I should never have heard him even mention your name. "To prevent the possibility of mistake. THAT was reason enough for his not mentioning it. She returned it almost instantly. "to give him my picture in return. I dare say. You must at least have felt that my being acquainted with it could not add to its safety. but yet I think you cannot be deceived as to the person it was drew for." "I certainly did not seek your confidence.-You knew nothing of me." said Elinor. because you must know of what importance it is to us." "It is strange." said she with a firm voice. Your secret is safe with me." She put it into her hands as she spoke. and when Elinor saw the painting. "but you do me no more than justice in imagining that I may be depended on. and." She was silent. for he has been always so anxious to get it! But I am determined to set for it the very first opportunity." continued Lucy. and." Get any book for free on: www. . be so good as to look at this face. there could be no OCCASION for ever mentioning my name to you. not to have it reach his mother. and heaven knows how much longer we may have to wait. and I fancy she is an exceeding proud woman." said she.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 91 is the person I mean. but her self-command did not sink with it. I shall have no fortune.Abika. Lucy spoke first. "Yes. to be sure. It does not do him justice. but pardon me if I express some surprise at so unnecessary a communication. you must allow that I am not likely to be deceived as to the name of the man on who all my happiness depends. as he was always particularly afraid of his sister's suspecting any thing.

when he visited us?" Get any book for free on: www. she looked directly at her companion. "I think whether it would not be better for us both to break off the matter entirely. "but I can give you no advice under such circumstances. "in telling you all this." Here she took out her handkerchief. when Edward's name was mentioned by Sir John. for I am in constant fear of her betraying me. Your own judgment must direct you. as I know the very mention of such a thing would do. that I was afraid you would think him quite ill. that I have not a creature whose advice I can ask. and I am sure I was in the greatest fright in the world t'other day. startled by the question. I am sure I wonder my heart is not quite broke." "To be sure. she looked earnestly at Lucy. and she has no judgment at all. then. but Elinor did not feel very compassionate. as you must perceive. I only wonder that I am alive after what I have suffered for Edward's sake these last four years." continued Lucy. And on my own account too--so dear as he is to me--I don't think I could be equal to it. perhaps the falsehood of the greatest part of what she had been saying. but Lucy's countenance suffered no change. I really thought some explanation was due to you after my making such particular inquiries about Edward's mother. and I am so unfortunate. I felt almost as if you was an old acquaintance. and seeing him so seldom--we can hardly meet above twice a-year." "Did he come from your uncle's. I have not known you long to be sure. "his mother must provide for him sometime or other. but poor Edward is so cast down by it! Did you not think him dreadful low-spirited when he was at Barton? He was so miserable when he left us at Longstaple. but I have known you and all your family by description a great while." said she." As she said this. Miss Dashwood? What would you do yourself?" "Pardon me. to go to you. "I was afraid you would think I was taking a great liberty with you.Abika. She does not know how to hold her tongue.-I cannot bear the thoughts of making him so miserable." replied Elinor. after a few minutes silence on both sides. What would you advise me to do in such a . Every thing in such suspense and uncertainty. lest she should out with it all." continued Lucy. "But then at other times I have not resolution enough for it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 92 As she said this. after wiping her eyes. Anne is the only person that knows of it. and as soon as I saw you. hoping to discover something in her countenance. indeed. You can't think how much I go through in my mind from it altogether. Besides in the present case. she does me a great deal more harm than good. personally at least. "Sometimes.

" "I begged him to exert himself for fear you should suspect what was the matter. could subsist only under a positive engagement. she had allowed herself to believe. at his total silence with respect even to their names. but poor Edward has not even THAT. could be authorised by nothing else. but a correspondence between them by letter. I dare say. Fortunately for her. I gave him a lock of my hair set in a ring when he was at Longstaple last." replied Elinor. but it made him so melancholy. "You know his hand.Abika. "Did not you think him sadly out of spirits?" repeated Lucy. for a few moments. under which was concealed an emotion and distress beyond any thing she had ever felt before. shocked. for he had just filled the sheet to me as full as possible. it might not have been Edward's gift. indeed. but not equal to a picture. particularly so when he first arrived.-Poor fellow!--I am afraid it is just the same with him now. returning the letter into her pocket. and that was some comfort to him. that her success was speedy. not being able to stay more than a fortnight with us.--He was tired. Perhaps you might notice the ring when you saw him?" "I did. "is the only comfort we have in such long separations. "We did. Yes. "Writing to each other. and seeing me so much affected. "I remember he told us." Elinor saw that it WAS his hand. a charming one it is. that he had been staying a fortnight with some friends near Plymouth. I dare say." said . he said. her own surprise at the time. with a composure of voice.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 93 "Oh. She was mortified. but that is not written so well as usual. I have one other comfort in his picture. might have been accidentally obtained. and she could doubt no longer. yes. at his mentioning nothing farther of those friends." said Lucy. but exertion was indispensably necessary. I heard from him just before I left Exeter. Did you think he came directly from town?" "No. for he writes in wretched spirits." taking a letter from her pocket and carelessly showing the direction to Elinor. This picture. Get any book for free on: www. he had been staying a fortnight with us. and for the time complete." She remembered too. and she struggled so resolutely against the oppression of her feelings. most feelingly sensible of every fresh circumstance in favour of Lucy's veracity. he says he should be easy. confounded. she was almost overcome--her heart sunk within her. If he had but my picture. they had now reached the cottage. and she could hardly stand.

his ill-treatment of herself. What Lucy had asserted to be true. as overcame every fear of condemning him unfairly. highly blamable. and Elinor was then at liberty to think and be wretched. Her mother. In that. at once indisputable and alarming. After sitting with them a few minutes. if her case were pitiable. What a softener of the heart was this persuasion! How much could it not tempt her to forgive! He had been blamable. which no partiality could set aside. Had Edward been intentionally deceiving her? Had he feigned a regard for her which he did not feel? Was his engagement to Lucy an engagement of the heart? No. Fanny. all had been conscious of his regard for her at Norland. [At this point in the first and second editions. the picture. the ring. She could not be deceived in that. His affection was all her own. soon arose. but it Get any book for free on: www. sisters. the letter. His imprudence had made her miserable for a while. and established as a fact.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 94 and the conversation could be continued no farther. in remaining at Norland after he first felt her influence over him to be more than it ought to be. other considerations. his melancholy state of mind. whatever it might once have been. but if he had injured her. Their opportunity of acquaintance in the house of Mr. where no temptation could be answerable to the folly of inventing a falsehood of such a description.] CHAPTER 23 However small Elinor's general dependence on Lucy's veracity might be. she could not believe it such at present. which had often surprised her. for a short time made her feel only for herself. it was not an illusion of her own vanity. the Miss Steeles returned to the Park. Elinor could not. his dissatisfaction at his own prospects. the intimate knowledge of the Miss Steeles as to Norland and their family connections.--Her resentment of such behaviour. Pratt was a foundation for the rest. his uncertain behaviour towards herself. how much more had he injured himself. formed altogether such a body of evidence. supported as it was too on every side by such probabilities and proofs. dared not longer doubt. his was hopeless. but other ideas.Abika. therefore. He certainly loved her. and contradicted by nothing but her own wishes. he could not be defended. it was impossible for her on serious reflection to suspect it in the present case. her indignation at having been its . and Edward's visit near Plymouth. Volume 1 ends.

to be spared the communication of what would give such affliction to them. could be felt as a relief! As these considerations occurred to her in painful succession. his delicacy. she thought she could even now. give such improvement to the understanding. had perhaps robbed her of that simplicity which might once have given an interesting character to her beauty. which if rationally spent. though it obliged her to unceasing exertion. Supported by the conviction of having done nothing to merit her present unhappiness. which would probably flow from the excess of their partial Get any book for free on: www. indeed. when the object of his engagement was undoubtedly inferior in connections. but the four succeeding years--years. spent on her side in inferior society and more frivolous pursuits. artful. and probably inferior in fortune to herself. The necessity of concealing from her mother and Marianne. under the first smart of the heavy blow. with a heart so alienated from Lucy. that Elinor was mourning in secret over obstacles which must divide her for ever from the object of her love. She might in time regain tranquillity. were his affection for herself out of the question. be satisfied with a wife like her--illiterate. that when she joined them at dinner only two hours after she had first suffered the extinction of all her dearest . And so well was she able to answer her own expectations. how much greater were they now likely to be. and consoled by the belief that Edward had done nothing to forfeit her esteem. and to be saved likewise from hearing that condemnation of Edward. and whom she expected to see in every carriage which drove near their house. On the contrary it was a relief to her. These difficulties. with his integrity. command herself enough to guard every suspicion of the truth from her mother and sisters. could he. of whose whole heart she felt thoroughly possessed. more than for herself. might not press very hard upon his patience. what had he to look forward to? Could he ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele. must have opened his eyes to her defects of education. was no aggravation of Elinor's distress.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 95 seemed to have deprived himself of all chance of ever being otherwise. no one would have supposed from the appearance of the sisters. and selfish? The youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally blind him to every thing but her beauty and good nature. and that Marianne was internally dwelling on the perfections of a man. his difficulties from his mother had seemed great. what had been entrusted in confidence to herself. and well-informed mind. while the same period of time.Abika. she wept for him. but melancholy was the state of the person by whom the expectation of family opposition and unkindness. If in the supposition of his seeking to marry herself. but HE.

not merely from Lucy's assertion. which she very much feared her involuntary agitation. where they might most easily separate themselves from the others. and which was more than she felt equal to support. while Elinor remained so well assured within herself of being really beloved by Edward. and her own good sense so well supported her. that her firmness was as unshaken. or their conversation. their tenderness and sorrow must add to her distress. But it was not immediately that an opportunity of doing so could be commanded. That Lucy was disposed to be jealous of her appeared very probable: it was plain that Edward had always spoken highly in her praise. and she particularly wanted to convince Lucy. And even Sir John's joking intelligence must have had some weight. What other reason for the disclosure of the affair could there be. as with regrets so poignant and so fresh. and though they Get any book for free on: www. She was stronger alone. though Lucy was as well disposed as herself to take advantage of any that occurred. And as she could now have nothing more painful to hear on the subject than had already been told. she did not mistrust her own ability of going through a repetition of particulars with composure. to combat her own affection for Edward and to see him as little as possible.Abika. that she was no otherwise interested in it than as a friend. by her readiness to enter on the matter again. she knew she could receive no assistance. and that she was so. she could not deny herself the comfort of endeavouring to convince Lucy that her heart was unwounded. her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable. she soon felt an earnest wish of renewing it. but that Elinor might be informed by it of Lucy's superior claims on Edward. it was possible for them to be. her very confidence was a proof. but from her venturing to trust her on so short a personal acquaintance. But indeed. From their counsel. and her calmness in conversing on . for the weather was not often fine enough to allow of their joining in a walk. with a secret so confessedly and evidently important. it required no other consideration of probabilities to make it natural that Lucy should be jealous. and be taught to avoid him in future? She had little difficulty in understanding thus much of her rival's intentions. She wanted to hear many particulars of their engagement repeated again. must have left at least doubtful. while her self-command would neither receive encouragement from their example nor from their praise. whether there were any sincerity in her declaration of tender regard for him. she wanted more clearly to understand what Lucy really felt for Edward. and while she was firmly resolved to act by her as every principle of honour and honesty directed. in their morning discourse.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 96 affection for herself. and this for more reasons than one. Much as she had suffered from her first conversation with Lucy on the subject.

except her mother and the two Miss Steeles. was persuaded by her mother. that they would all dine with Lady Middleton that day. and she would otherwise be quite alone. immediately accepted the invitation. and therefore very little leisure was ever given for a general chat. or consequences. They quitted it only with the removal of the tea-things. They met for the sake of eating. the children accompanied them. And we will make the dear little love some amends for her disappointment to-morrow. when Sir John called at the cottage one morning. who foresaw a fairer opening for the point she had in view. and none at all for particular discourse. and nothing could be less interesting than the whole of their discourse both in the dining parlour and drawing room: to the latter. and Marianne. who could not bear to have her seclude herself from any chance of amusement. I am only waiting to know whether you can make your party without me. to go likewise. or I should have been at my filigree already. with her mother's permission. and then I hope she will not much mind it. and laughing together. and while they remained there. One or two meetings of this kind had taken place. she was too well convinced of the impossibility of engaging Lucy's attention to attempt . was equally compliant. Lady Middleton. "I am glad. it produced not one novelty of thought or expression. Margaret. Lucy recollected herself instantly and replied. drinking." This hint was enough." Get any book for free on: www." said Lady Middleton to Lucy. The card-table was then placed. "Indeed you are very much mistaken. for I am sure it must hurt your eyes to work filigree by candlelight. The insipidity of the meeting was exactly such as Elinor had expected. Elinor. they could not be supposed to meet for the sake of conversation. and Lady Middleton was happily preserved from the frightful solitude which had threatened her. in the name of charity.Abika. though always unwilling to join any of their parties. as he was obliged to attend the club at Exeter. without affording Elinor any chance of engaging Lucy in private. playing at cards. more at liberty among themselves under the tranquil and well-bred direction of Lady Middleton than when her husband united them together in one noisy purpose. and chiefly at the former. The young ladies went. "you are not going to finish poor little Annamaria's basket this evening. in such a party as this was likely to be. They all rose up in preparation for a round game. and Elinor began to wonder at herself for having ever entertained a hope of finding time for conversation at the park. or any other game that was sufficiently noisy. Such a thought would never enter either Sir John or Lady Middleton's head.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 97 met at least every other evening either at the park or cottage. I am resolved to finish the basket after supper. to beg. I would not disappoint the little angel for all the world: and if you want me at the card-table now.

perhaps you will be as well pleased not to cut in till another rubber." "Indeed I shall be very much obliged to you for your help. . if she would allow me a share in it. I shall go to the piano-forte. endeavouring to smooth away the offence. that it must be impossible I think for her labour singly." The remaining five were now to draw their cards. Lucy made room for her with ready attention." said Miss Steele-"Dear little soul. gained her own end. I am sure she depends upon having it done.Abika." Lucy directly drew her work table near her and reseated herself with an alacrity and cheerfulness which seemed to infer that she could taste no greater delight than in making a filigree basket for a spoilt child. I have not touched it since it was tuned. and the two fair rivals were Get any book for free on: www. how I do love her!" "You are very kind." And without farther ceremony. "and as you really like the work. I should like the work exceedingly." continued Elinor. if the basket was not finished tomorrow.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 98 "You are very good. "and I do not much wonder at it. "for I find there is more to be done to it than I thought there was. "Your Ladyship will have the goodness to excuse ME--you know I detest cards. Lady Middleton proposed a rubber of Casino to the others. "Marianne can never keep long from that instrument you know. "if I should happen to cut out. to finish it this evening. or will you take your chance now?" Elinor joyfully profited by the first of these proposals. who with her usual inattention to the forms of general civility." cried Lucy. she turned away and walked to the instrument. No one made any objection but Marianne." said Lady Middleton to Elinor. exclaimed. in rolling her papers for her. and it would be a shocking thing to disappoint dear Annamaria after all. for though I told her it certainly would not. I hope it won't hurt your eyes-will you ring the bell for some working candles? My poor little girl would be sadly disappointed. I may be of some use to Miss Lucy Steele. Lady Middleton looked as if she thanked heaven that SHE had never made so rude a speech. ma'am. I know. and thus by a little of that address which Marianne could never condescend to practise. for it is the very best toned piano-forte I ever heard. and pleased Lady Middleton at the same time. "Perhaps." said Elinor." "Oh! that would be terrible. and there is so much still to be done to the basket.

" and Elinor spoke it with the truest sincerity. under the shelter of its noise." cried Lucy warmly. Ferrars. and could Get any book for free on: www. introduce the interesting subject. "there seemed to me to be a coldness and displeasure in your manner that made me quite . is entirely dependent on his mother. with the utmost harmony. "for breaking the ice. I could give up every prospect of more without a sigh. and have been quarrelling with myself ever since." replied Lucy. that was not honourable and flattering to me?" "And yet I do assure you. though for my own part. I believe. and be assured that you shall never have reason to repent it. I felt sure that you was angry with me. your compassion would make you overlook every thing else I am sure. Elinor thus began. If you knew what a consolation it was to me to relieve my heart speaking to you of what I am always thinking of every moment of my life." "Thank you. I can easily believe that it was a very great relief to you. I have been always used to a very small income. her little sharp eyes full of meaning. it would be madness to marry upon that. and.Abika. Your case is a very unfortunate one. Mr. you seem to me to be surrounded with difficulties. or no farther curiosity on its subject. I will not apologize therefore for bringing it forward again. Could you have a motive for the trust. wrapped up in her own music and her own thoughts. for having took such a liberty as to trouble you with my affairs. and that you really do not blame me. But I am very glad to find it was only my own fancy. was luckily so near them that Miss Dashwood now judged she might safely. though cautious tone.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 99 thus seated side by side at the same table. if I felt no desire for its continuance. to acknowledge your situation to me." "Offended me! How could you suppose so? Believe me. engaged in forwarding the same work. you have set my heart at ease by it." "He has only two thousand pounds of his own. had by this time forgotten that any body was in the room besides herself. without any risk of being heard at the card-table. "I should be undeserving of the confidence you have honoured me with. "nothing could be farther from my intention than to give you such an idea. for I was somehow or other afraid I had offended you by what I told you that Monday. CHAPTER 24 In a firm." "Indeed. and you will have need of all your mutual affection to support you under them. The pianoforte at which Marianne.

"has been pretty well put to the test. and from our different situations in life. to have found out the truth in an instant. With almost every other man in the world. We must wait. it may be for many years. "are your views? or have you none but that of waiting for Mrs. but Elinor was careful in guarding her countenance from every expression that could give her words a suspicious tendency. If the strength of your reciprocal attachment had failed. Get any book for free on: www. or seemed in any respect less happy at Longstaple than he used to be. would very likely secure every thing to Robert. I do not mean to say that I am particularly observant or quick-sighted in general. but in such a case I am sure I could not be deceived. I was enough inclined for suspicion." said she after a short . and to all the tediousness of the many years of suspense in which it may involve you." said Lucy. but I love him too well to be the selfish means of robbing him. or any lowness of spirits that I could not account for. perhaps. it would be an alarming prospect. if there had been the slightest alteration in his behaviour to me when we met.Abika. and he is undoubtedly supported by the same trust in your's. and our continual separation. Ferrars's death. but it can impose upon neither of us. indeed. and in her first fit of anger upon hearing it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 100 struggle with any poverty for him." "All this. "I am rather of a jealous temper too by nature. from his being so much more in the world than me. that I should be unpardonable to doubt it now." "But what. but Edward's affection and constancy nothing can deprive me of I know. and under many circumstances it naturally would during a four years' engagement. or if he had talked more of one lady than another. I can safely say that he has never gave me one moment's alarm on that account from the first." thought Elinor. and it has stood the trial so well. rather than run the risk of her displeasure for a while by owning the truth?" "If we could be certain that it would be only for a while! But Mrs. by our long. of all that his mother might give him if he married to please her." Lucy here looked up." "That conviction must be every thing to you. Lucy went on. as between many people. "is very pretty. very long absence since we were first engaged. your situation would have been pitiable. which is a melancholy and shocking extremity?--Is her son determined to submit to this." Elinor hardly knew whether to smile or sigh at this assertion. "Edward's love for me. Ferrars is a very headstrong proud woman.

Lucy bit her lip. A mutual silence took place for some time. "to show any mark of my esteem and friendship for Mr. there is no finding out who SHE likes. John Dashwood--THAT must be recommendation enough to her husband." cried Miss Steele. but as for . indeed I am bound to let you into the secret. Ferrars." cried Lucy. "I dare say Lucy's beau is quite as modest and pretty behaved as Miss Dashwood's." "No sister. your brother might be persuaded to give him Norland living." said Mrs. and I hope out of some regard to me." Get any book for free on: www. I dare say. they are talking of their favourite beaux." "I should always be happy. Jennings." "Oh. which I am sure you would be kind enough to use out of friendship for him. but I fancy he is very unlike his brother--silly and a great coxcomb. "Not at all--I never saw him. or you are carrying your disinterestedness beyond reason. for you are a party concerned. and was silent. Robert Ferrars?" asked Elinor. but do you not perceive that my interest on such an occasion would be perfectly unnecessary? He is brother to Mrs. "Do you know Mr.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 101 and the idea of that. prettiest behaved young men I ever saw. and the present incumbent not likely to live a great while. for Edward's sake. laughing heartily. That would be enough for us to marry upon." replied Elinor. "for he is one of the modestest." "A great coxcomb!" repeated Miss Steele. "you are mistaken there.-"Oh. and then through your interest. though Marianne was then giving them the powerful protection of a very magnificent concerto-"I will honestly tell you of one scheme which has lately come into my head. whose ear had caught those words by a sudden pause in Marianne's music. our favourite beaux are NOT great coxcombs. she is such a sly little creature." Lucy looked at Elinor again." "I can answer for it that Miss Dashwood's is not. and looked angrily at her sister. and we might trust to time and chance for the rest. looking significantly round at them. for bringing matters to bear." Elinor blushed in spite of herself. Lucy first put an end to it by saying in a lower tone. which I understand is a very good one. now my plan is that he should take orders as soon as he can." "And for your own sake too. I dare say you have seen enough of Edward to know that he would prefer the church to every other profession.Abika. frightens away all my inclination for hasty measures.

and laying a particular stress on those words. succeeded this speech. Get any book for free on: www." They were again silent for many minutes. Miss Dashwood?" said she with all her accustomary complacency. 'I advise you by all means to put an end to your engagement with Edward Ferrars. lest they might provoke each other to an unsuitable increase of ease and unreserve. It raises my influence much too high. We seem so beset with difficulties on every side. and I do really believe. and was even partly determined never to mention the subject again. while her eyes brightened at the information. "that your judgment might justly have such weight with me. which concealed subject I certainly my opinion would have on the side of your wishes. that if you was to say to me. that though it would make us miserable for a time. "Shall you be in town this winter. and Lucy was still the first to end it. "Certainly not. "This compliment would effectually frighten me from giving any opinion on the subject had I formed one. with a very agitated feelings." "'Tis because you are an indifferent person. At length "I believe it would be the wisest way to put an end to the business at once by dissolving the engagement." "I am sorry for that.' I should resolve upon doing it immediately." "Indeed you wrong me." answered Elinor." "Then I rather suspect that my interest would do very little. Lucy exclaimed with a deep sigh.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 102 "But Mrs.Abika." Elinor blushed for the insincerity of Edward's future wife. your opinion would not be worth having. and replied. If you could be supposed to be biased in any respect by your own feelings." said Lucy. But you will not give me your advice. unless it were smile. "on such a will not. with great solemnity. John Dashwood would not much approve of Edward's going into orders. with some pique. we should be happier perhaps in the end. You know very well that no weight with you. the power of dividing two people so tenderly attached is too much for an indifferent . Another pause therefore of many minutes' duration. "I know nobody of whose judgment I think so highly as I do of yours. it will be more for the happiness of both of you. Miss Dashwood?" "No." Elinor thought it wisest to make no answer to this." returned the other." replied Lucy.

and to assist in the due celebration of that festival which requires a more than ordinary share of private balls and large dinners to proclaim its importance. and the confidential discourse of the two ladies was therefore at an end.Abika. To be sure. Anne and me are to go the latter end of January to some relations who have been wanting us to visit them these several years! But I only go for the sake of seeing Edward.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 103 "it would have gave me such pleasure to meet you there! But I dare say you will go for all that. in spite of the absolute necessity of returning to fulfill them immediately. CHAPTER 25 Though Mrs. and in spite of their numerous and long arranged engagements in Exeter. Jennings was in the habit of spending a large Get any book for free on: www. to which both of them submitted without any reluctance." "How unlucky that is! I had quite depended upon meeting you there. otherwise London would have no charms for me. for nothing had been said on either side to make them dislike each other less than they had done before." Elinor was soon called to the card-table by the conclusion of the first rubber. and which were dangerous to herself. He will be there in February. they were prevailed on to stay nearly two months at the park. and Elinor sat down to the card table with the melancholy persuasion that Edward was not only without affection for the person who was to be his wife. who seldom missed an opportunity of introducing it. they could not be spared." "It will not be in my power to accept their invitation if they . and when entered on by Lucy. From this time the subject was never revived by Elinor. Their favour increased. for she felt such conversations to be an indulgence which Lucy did not deserve. which was in full force at the end of every week. The visit of the Miss Steeles at Barton Park was lengthened far beyond what the first invitation implied. your brother and sister will ask you to come to them. of which she seemed so thoroughly aware that he was weary. of her happiness whenever she received a letter from Edward. it was treated by the former with calmness and caution. and was particularly careful to inform her confidante. which sincere affection on HER side would have given. for self-interest alone could induce a woman to keep a man to an engagement. but that he had not even the chance of being tolerably happy in marriage. and dismissed as soon as civility would allow. Sir John would not hear of their going. I have not spirits for it.

well and good. she began on the approach of January to turn her thoughts. if you do not like to go wherever I do. for I shan't put myself at all out of my way for you. she had resided every winter in a house in one of the streets near Portman Square. she was not without a settled habitation of her own. It is very hard indeed that she should not have a little pleasure. So I would advise you two. Come. Jennings. "Oh. without observing the varying complexion of her sister. and if Miss Dashwood will change her mind by and bye. you may always go with one of my daughters. you may depend upon it. if not both of them. The reason alleged was their determined resolution of not leaving their mother at that time of the year. in which she believed herself to be speaking their united inclinations. Don't fancy that you will be any inconvenience to me.Abika. "I am sure I shall be monstrous glad of Miss Marianne's company. why so much the better. and repeated her invitation immediately. and I thought it would be more comfortable for them to be together.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 104 portion of the year at the houses of her children and friends." Get any book for free on: www. asked the elder Misses Dashwood to accompany her. because. for I have had such good luck in getting my own children off my hands that she will think me a very fit person to have the charge of you. who had traded with success in a less elegant part of the town. We three shall be able to go very well in my chaise. I shall speak a good word for you to all the young men. only the more the merrier say I. without saying a word to Miss Dashwood about it. Mrs. and the animated look which spoke no indifference to the plan. and when we are in town." "I have a . and I DO beg you will favour me with your company. I who have been always used till this winter to have Charlotte with me. Lord! I am sure your mother can spare you very well. when you are tired of Barton. It will only be sending Betty by the coach. I am sure your mother will not object to it. and very unexpectedly by them. Elinor. if they got tired of me. and thither she one day abruptly. I must have. and if I don't get one of you at least well married before I have done with you." "Nay. But one or the other. Miss Marianne. let us strike hands upon the bargain. and laugh at my old ways behind my back." cried Mrs. immediately gave a grateful but absolute denial for both. Since the death of her husband. Jennings received the refusal with some surprise. it shall not be my fault. Towards this home. "that Miss Marianne would not object to such a scheme. for I've quite set my heart upon it. because Miss Dashwood does not wish it. Lord bless me! how do you think I can live poking by myself. and I hope I can afford THAT. whether Miss Dashwood will go or not." said Sir John. if her elder sister would come into it. they might talk to one another. to set off for town.

Whatever Marianne was desirous of. who now understood her sister. "I am delighted with the plan. should disregard whatever must be most wounding to her irritable feelings. and then began to foresee. thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. with her usual cheerfulness. as Elinor. nothing should tempt me to leave her. Jennings' manners. and saw to what indifference to almost every thing else she was carried by her eagerness to be with Willoughby again. and merely referred it to her mother's decision. On being informed of the invitation.Abika. less comfortable by our absence--Oh! . You will be under the care of a motherly good sort of woman. and which on her own account she had particular reasons to avoid.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 105 "I thank you. and perceiving through all her affectionate attention to herself. a variety of advantages that would accrue to them all. It is very right that you SHOULD go to town. It should not. yes. from this separation. Get any book for free on: www." Mrs. would not hear of their declining the offer upon HER account. When you and the Middletons are gone. persuaded that such an excursion would be productive of much amusement to both her daughters. That Marianne. But my mother. Margaret and I shall be as much benefited by it as yourselves. was not prepared to witness. should overlook every inconvenience of that kind. "it is exactly what I could wish. and it would give me such happiness. and invariably disgusted by them. to be able to accept it. so full. Mrs. Dashwood. my dearest. sincerely thank you. how much the heart of Marianne was in it. ma'am. we shall go on so quietly and happily together with our books and our music! You will find Margaret so improved when you come back again! I have a little plan of alteration for your bedrooms too. must not be a struggle. her mother would be eager to promote--she could not expect to influence the latter to cautiousness of conduct in an affair respecting which she had never been able to inspire her with distrust. and if she were to be made less happy. with warmth: "your invitation has insured my gratitude for ever. and Elinor." said Marianne. kindest mother. insisted on their both accepting it directly. in spite of all that had passed. almost the greatest happiness I am capable of." she cried. in her pursuit of one object. was such a proof. fastidious as she was. which she could not approve of for Marianne. which may now be performed without any inconvenience to any one. and she dared not explain the motive of her own disinclination for going to London. of the importance of that object to her. from whom however she scarcely expected to receive any support in her endeavour to prevent a visit. of whose kindness to you I can have no doubt.--I feel the justice of what Elinor has urged. made no farther direct opposition to the plan. so strong. Dashwood could spare them perfectly well. I would have every young woman of your condition in life acquainted with the manners and amusements of London. Jennings repeated her assurance that Mrs.

when I consider whose son he is. "but of her society. she would foresee it there from a variety of sources. or whose protection will give us consequence. "at least it need not prevent MY accepting her invitation. you will scarcely have any thing at all. without any unreasonable abridgement. "I will have you BOTH go. and whatever may be his faults. "is my dear prudent Elinor going to suggest? What formidable obstacle is she now to bring forward? Do let me hear a word about the expense of it. and I am sure I could put up with every unpleasantness of that kind with very little effort. and that their visit. by recollecting that Edward Ferrars.Abika." said Marianne. as she did not think it proper that Marianne should be left to the sole guidance of her own judgment. Jennings. and resolved within herself." said Mrs. "And what. though I think very well of Mrs." said Mrs." replied her mother. Dashwood." Elinor could not help smiling at this display of indifference towards the manners of a person. "you have been obviating every impediment to the present scheme which occurred to you. "these objections are nonsensical. or that Mrs." "If Elinor is frightened away by her dislike of Mrs. to whom she had often had difficulty in persuading Marianne to behave with tolerable politeness. and if Elinor would ever condescend to anticipate enjoyment. in my opinion." said Elinor. Jennings should be abandoned to the mercy of Marianne for all the comfort of her domestic hours. expect some from improving her acquaintance with her sister-in-law's family. she is not a woman whose society can afford us pleasure." Marianne's countenance sunk. or the faults of his wife. she would. was not to be in town before February. she would go likewise. and you will almost always appear in public with Lady Middleton. You will have much pleasure in being in . might be previously finished." "That is very true. Jennings's heart. To this determination she was the more easily reconciled. perhaps. that if her sister persisted in going. and especially in being together. there is still one objection which.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 106 And in all probability you will see your brother. by Lucy's account. I cannot bear to have you so wholly estranged from each other." "Though with your usual anxiety for our happiness. I have no such scruples. cannot be so easily removed. Dashwood. separately from that of other people." Get any book for free on: www." "My objection is this.

and manner. Jennings received the information with a great deal of joy. whether I am ever known to them or not. she forced herself to begin her design by saying. it is a matter of perfect indifference to me. but as to the rest of the family. for to a man. that the shock might be less when the whole truth were revealed.Abika. and many assurances of kindness and care. and Elinor was the only one of the three. Marianne lifted up her eyes in astonishment. Sir John was delighted. nor was it a matter of pleasure merely to her. Marianne's joy was almost a degree beyond happiness. though almost hopeless of success. and now on this attack. "I like Edward Ferrars very much. and as for the Miss Steeles. Mrs. Even Lady Middleton took the trouble of being delighted. and her sister exhilarated by it in look. she could not be dissatisfied with the cause. and at the moment of parting her grief on that score was excessive. and shall always be glad to see . the acquisition of two. Her mother's affliction was hardly less. restored to all her usual animation. voice." Mrs. and when she saw her mother so thoroughly pleased with the plan. it was now a matter of unconcern whether she went to town or not. and were to quit it only with the rest of the family. Her unwillingness to quit her mother was her only restorative to calmness. and said nothing. Their departure took place in the first week in January. Dashwood smiled. especially Lucy. which was putting herself rather out of her way. and elevated to more than her usual gaiety. so great was the perturbation of her spirits and her impatience to be gone. to the number of inhabitants in London. whose prevailing anxiety was the dread of being alone. was something. as calmly as she could. Elinor submitted to the arrangement which counteracted her wishes with less reluctance than she had expected to feel. The Middletons were to follow in about a week. who seemed to consider the separation as any thing short of eternal. they had never been so happy in their lives as this intelligence made them. it was finally settled that the invitation should be fully accepted. and Elinor conjectured that she might as well have held her tongue. With regard to herself.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 107 Elinor had often wished for an opportunity of attempting to weaken her mother's dependence on the attachment of Edward and herself. After very little farther discourse. The Miss Steeles kept their station at the park. CHAPTER 26 Get any book for free on: www. and would hardly allow herself to distrust the consequence.

with that happy ardour of youth which Marianne and her mother equally shared. without feeling how blank was her own prospect. been overcome or overlooked. and only disturbed that she could not make them choose their own dinners at the inn. Marianne's eagerness to be gone declared her dependence on finding him there. the same possibility of hope. her exertions would be of a different nature--she must then learn to avoid every selfish comparison. wrapt in her own meditations. could not witness the rapture of delightful expectation which filled the whole soul and beamed in the eyes of Marianne. and Elinor was resolved not only upon gaining every new light as to his character which her own observation or the intelligence of others could give her. should it be otherwise. from the confinement of a carriage. and Marianne's behaviour as they travelled was a happy specimen of what future complaisance and companionableness to Mrs. A short.Abika. They reached town by three o'clock the third day. and as her guest. and Mrs. They were three days on their journey. and how gladly she would engage in the solicitude of Marianne's situation to have the same animating object in view. talked with her. as to ascertain what he was and what he meant. was solicitous on every occasion for their ease and enjoyment. Jennings might be expected to be.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 108 Elinor could not find herself in the carriage with Mrs. a very short time however must now decide what Willoughby's intentions were. in all probability he was already in town. Jennings. Should the result of her observations be unfavourable. behaved with the greatest attention to Mrs. glad to be released. and scarcely ever voluntarily speaking. in spite of every occasional doubt of Willoughby's constancy. without wondering at her own situation. and beginning a journey to London under her protection. nor extort a confession of their preferring salmon to cod. and banish every regret which might lessen her satisfaction in the happiness of Marianne. so wholly unsuited were they in age and disposition. but likewise upon watching his behaviour to her sister with such zealous attention. she was determined at all events to open the eyes of her sister. before many meetings had taken place. Get any book for free on: www. laughed with . She sat in silence almost all the way. and Elinor. and listened to her whenever she could. how cheerless her own state of mind in the comparison. To atone for this conduct therefore. after such a journey. Jennings. Elinor took immediate possession of the post of civility which she had assigned herself. Jennings on her side treated them both with all possible kindness. and ready to enjoy all the luxury of a good fire. and so many had been her objections against such a measure only a few days before! But these objections had all. so short had their acquaintance with that lady been. except when any object of picturesque beauty within their view drew from her an exclamation of delight exclusively addressed to her sister. or boiled fowls to veal cutlets.

and she continued her letter with greater alacrity. and when they afterwards returned to the drawing room. and as if wishing to avoid any farther inquiry. in proof of her having spent seven years at a great school in town to some effect. "had not you better defer your letter for a day or two?" "I am NOT going to write to my mother. it is Willoughby." replied Marianne. in the ecstasy of her feelings at that instant she could not help exclaiming. it was then folded up. though not entirely satisfactory. Get any book for free on: www. starting up. gave her pleasure. This decided the matter at once. "Oh. and over the mantelpiece still hung a landscape in coloured silks of her performance. and the young ladies were immediately put in possession of a very comfortable apartment. it immediately struck her that she must then be writing to Willoughby.Abika. sealed.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 109 The house was handsome. It had formerly been Charlotte's. by being much engaged in her own room. and after listening half a minute. Every thing was silent. This conviction. when Colonel Brandon appeared. returned into the room in all the agitation which a conviction of having heard him would naturally produce. however mysteriously they might wish to conduct the affair. Elinor said no more. moved towards the door. Elinor. but there was a flutter in them which prevented their giving much pleasure to her sister. indeed it is!" and seemed almost ready to throw herself into his arms. and already had Marianne been disappointed more than once by a rap at a neighbouring door. It was a great satisfaction to Elinor that Mrs. and directed with eager rapidity." said Elinor. As dinner was not to be ready in less than two hours from their arrival. hastily. she opened the door. In a few moments Marianne did the same. and Marianne. Elinor thought she could distinguish a large W in the direction. when a loud one was suddenly heard which could not be mistaken for one at any other house. Marianne's was finished in a very few minutes. "I am writing home. Elinor determined to employ the interval in writing to her mother. The tea things were brought in. seemed anxiously listening to the sound of every carriage. Jennings. Marianne. ringing the bell. in length it could be no more than a note. and no sooner was it complete than Marianne. that. and handsomely fitted . and the conclusion which as instantly followed was. this could not be borne many seconds. and this agitation increased as the evening drew on. could see little of what was passing. Her spirits still continued very high. and sat down for that purpose. Elinor felt secure of its announcing Willoughby's approach. requested the footman who answered it to get that letter conveyed for her to the two-penny post. they must be engaged. She could scarcely eat any dinner. advanced a few steps towards the stairs.

and she was fearful that her question had implied much more curiosity on the subject than she had ever felt. they continued to talk. He heard her with the most earnest attention. as hardly left him the recollection of what civility demanded towards herself. with very little interest on either side. and the manner in which it was said. I have been as busy as a bee ever since dinner! But pray. She instantly saw that it was not unnoticed by him. with such astonishment and concern. and over fatigues. making the usual inquiries about their journey. by way of saying something. that he even observed Marianne as she quitted the room. Colonel. with the uneasiness and suspicions they had caused to Mrs. and at length." he replied. "Yes. but at the same time her regard for Colonel Brandon ensured his welcome with her. said no more on the subject. but seeming to recollect himself. Elinor was disappointed too. Get any book for free on: www. In this calm kind of way.Abika. and then talked of head-aches. she asked if he had been in London ever since she had seen him last. but she was afraid of giving him pain by any enquiry after his rival. and she immediately left the room. Jennings soon came in. and settle my matters. Elinor wished very much to ask whether Willoughby were then in town. and then I have had Cartwright to settle with-Lord. with her usual noisy cheerfulness. "I am monstrous glad to see you--sorry I could not come before--beg your pardon. and she felt particularly hurt that a man so partial to her sister should perceive that she experienced nothing but grief and disappointment in seeing him. Mrs. and of every thing to which she could decently attribute her sister's behaviour. Palmer's. "almost ever since. but I have been forced to look about me a little. "Is your sister ill?" said he. Elinor answered in some distress that she was. and began directly to speak of his pleasure at seeing them in London." said . how came you to conjure out that I should be in town today?" "I had the pleasure of hearing it at Mr. and the thoughts of both engaged elsewhere. both of them out of spirits." This. low spirits. immediately brought back to her remembrance all the circumstances of his quitting that place. Jennings. with some embarrassment. "Oh! Colonel. but it has never been in my power to return to Barton. I have been once or twice at Delaford for a few days. for it is a long while since I have been at home. and the friends they had left behind.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 110 It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness. and you know one has always a world of little odd things to do after one has been away for any time.

it is a fine thing to be young and handsome. to be sure. Palmer will be so happy to see you. I have brought two young ladies with me. Colonel. However. But Colonel. you see--that is. They had not long finished their breakfast before Mrs. let's have no secrets among friends. Well. Well! I was young once. Palmer appeared quite well. Willoughby will do between you about her. Palmer's. The disappointment of the evening before seemed forgotten in the expectation of what was to happen that day." "Mrs. in every variety of inquiry concerning all their acquaintance on Mrs. or in other . and I am commissioned to tell you. that it was hard to say whether she received most pleasure from meeting her mother or the Miss Dashwoods again. though at the same time she would never have forgiven them if they had not come! "Mr. Miss Marianne. I thought as much. Your friend. it was Get any book for free on: www.Abika. I got a very good husband. After her entrance.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 111 where I have been dining. where have you been to since we parted? And how does your business go on? Come. though it was what she had rather expected all along. No other visitor appeared that evening. come. and Marianne was obliged to appear again. but without satisfying her in any." said she. but it was something so droll!" After an hour or two spent in what her mother called comfortable chat. and Mrs. Ay. and how do they all do at their house? How does Charlotte do? I warrant you she is a fine size by this time." "Ay. you see but one of them now. and I don't know what the greatest beauty can do more." He replied with his accustomary mildness to all her inquiries. Ah! poor man! he has been dead these eight years and better. but there is another somewhere. well. that you will certainly see her to-morrow. "What do you think he said when he heard of your coming with Mamma? I forget what it was now. I do not know what you and Mr. Jennings's side. and in laughter without cause on Mrs. So surprised at their coming to town. so angry at their accepting her mother's invitation after having declined her own. Jennings could not prevail on him to stay long. and in a few minutes she came laughing into the room: so delighted to see them all. too--which you will not be sorry to hear. you did." "Oh. Marianne rose the next morning with recovered spirits and happy looks. Elinor now began to make the tea. Colonel Brandon became more thoughtful and silent than he had been before. and the ladies were unanimous in agreeing to go early to bed. Palmer's barouche stopped at the door. but I never was very handsome--worse luck for me.

could determine on none. "Are you certain that no servant. where much of their business lay. her eyes were in constant inquiry. regarding her sister with uneasiness. Palmer and two elderly ladies of Mrs. indeed!" repeated Elinor within herself. she would represent in the strongest manner to her mother the necessity of some serious enquiry into the affair. no porter has left any letter or note?" The man replied that none had. "How odd. a man so little known. "Has no letter been left here for me since we went out?" said she to the footman who then entered with the parcels. Jennings's Get any book for free on: www. and how will MY interference be borne. and no sooner had they entered the house than Marianne flew eagerly up stairs. in a low and disappointed voice. her sister could never obtain her opinion of any article of purchase. expensive. Wherever they went. who was wild to buy all. you must be wrong in permitting an engagement between a daughter so young. was only impatient to be at home again. after some consideration.Abika. how odd that he should neither come nor write! Oh! my dear mother. as she did. and when Elinor followed. she found her turning from the table with a sorrowful countenance. however it might equally concern them both: she received no pleasure from anything. In Bond Street especially. to which Mrs." She determined. to be carried on in so doubtful. "How very odd!" said she. Mrs. which declared that no Willoughby had been there. She was answered in the negative.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 112 proposed by the latter that they should all accompany her to some shops where she had business that morning. and in whatever shop the party were engaged. Palmer. so mysterious a manner! I long to inquire. her mind was equally abstracted from every thing actually before them. and if he is in town. she was evidently always on the watch. or new. though declining it at first was induced to go likewise. whose eye was caught by every thing pretty. that if appearances continued many days longer as unpleasant as they now . and dawdled away her time in rapture and indecision. and could with difficulty govern her vexation at the tediousness of Mrs. she would have written to Combe Magna. Jennings and Elinor readily consented. as having likewise some purchases to make themselves. Restless and dissatisfied every where. "Are you quite sure of it?" she replied. from all that interested and occupied the others. "If she had not known him to be in town she would not have written to him. It was late in the morning before they returned home. and Marianne. as she turned away to the window.

Jennings from seeing her sister's thoughts as clearly as she did. my dear. CHAPTER 27 "If this open weather holds much longer. but the book was soon thrown aside. to examine the day. whom she had met and invited in the morning. has her own . "It is charming weather for THEM indeed." "That is true. and in all probability with severity. "How much they must enjoy it! But" (with a little return of anxiety) "it cannot be expected to last long. as she sat down to the breakfast table with a happy countenance. we shall certainly have very little more of it. and walking to the window as she spoke. for it was spent in all the anxiety of expectation and the pain of disappointment. when they met at breakfast the following morning. but though her time was therefore at her own disposal. as she would never learn the game. wishing to prevent Mrs. Poor souls! I always pity them when they do. and she returned to the more interesting employment of walking backwards and forwards across the room." "Ay." Mary always "And now. Frosts will soon set in. they seem to take it so much to heart." cried Marianne. in hopes of distinguishing the long-expected rap. the evening was by no means more productive of pleasure to her than to Elinor. Marianne was of no use on these occasions. "Sir John will not like leaving Barton next week. "I dare say we shall have Sir John and Lady Middleton in town by the end of next week. "she will write to Combe by this day's post." said Mrs." It was a lucky recollection. the letter was written and sent away Get any book for free on: www. 'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a day's pleasure." But if she DID. I'll warrant you we do. Jennings. dined with them. She sometimes endeavoured for a few minutes to read. This weather will keep many sportsmen in the country. in a cheerful voice. At this time of the year." said Elinor. this extreme mildness can hardly last longer--nay. The former left them soon after tea to fulfill her evening engagements. all her good spirits were restored by it. perhaps it may freeze tonight!" "At any rate.Abika. and Elinor was obliged to assist in making a whist table for the others." silently conjectured Elinor." she continued.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 113 intimate acquaintance. and after such a series of rain. In another day or two perhaps. "I had not thought of that. pausing for a moment whenever she came to the window.

"Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning. and every morning in the appearance of the atmosphere. Whatever the truth of it might be. he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor. who had a general invitation to the house." Elinor. It was not so yesterday. and his spirits were certainly worse than when at Barton. the certain symptoms of approaching frost. she had never dropped. About a week after their arrival. which was invariably kind. to Lady Middleton's regret. The clouds seem parting too. than with her behaviour to themselves. and far as Elinor was from feeling thorough contentment about it. Elinor? There seems to me a very decided difference. Jennings's acquaintance to inform them of her being in town.Abika. I think. and still happier in her expectation of a frost. His card was on the table when they came in from the morning's drive. and Marianne was all the time busy in observing the direction of the wind.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 114 with a privacy which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertain the fact. The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards at the houses of Mrs. It grieved her to see the earnestness with which he often watched Marianne. rejoiced to be assured of his Get any book for free on: www. Colonel Brandon. Pleased to find herself more comfortably situated in that particular than she had expected. I can hardly keep my hands warm even in my muff. it became certain that Willoughby was also arrived. who often derived more satisfaction from conversing with him than from any other daily occurrence. Elinor was very willing to compound for the want of much real enjoyment from any of their evening parties. and we shall have a clear afternoon. whether at home or abroad. happy in the mildness of the weather. she visited no one to whom an introduction could at all discompose the feelings of her young companions. and set of acquaintance. which. formed only for cards. And Marianne was in spirits. and excepting a few old city friends. The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be dissatisfied with Mrs. Jennings's style of living. but Marianne . "he has been here while we were out. and saw every night in the brightness of the fire. could have little to amuse her. but who saw at the same time with much concern his continued regard for her sister. she could not be very uncomfortable herself. the sun will be out in a moment. She feared it was a strengthening regard. whom. watching the variations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the air. was with them almost every day. Every thing in her household arrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan. "Good God!" cried Marianne. yet while she saw Marianne in spirits." Elinor was alternately diverted and pained.

" But Marianne seemed hardly to hear her. and laid on the table. the expectation of seeing him every hour of the day. in me. "It is indeed for Mrs. stepping hastily forward. he will call again tomorrow. Business on Sir John's part. and the note being given her. then?" said Elinor. "For me!" cried Marianne." "You have no confidence "Nay. knew not how. that Willoughby had paid no second visit there. the next morning. because I conceal nothing. while it raised the spirits of Elinor. unable to be longer silent." "Nor I. and requesting the company of her mother and cousins the following evening.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 115 being in London." But Marianne. announcing their arrival in Conduit Street the night before. when the others went out. escaped with the precious card. Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passing in Berkeley Street during their absence. distressed by this charge of reserve in herself. and more than all. She insisted on being left behind. Jenning's entrance. their former agitation. It was from Lady Middleton. because you do not communicate. Elinor. how provoking!" "You are expecting a letter. she read it aloud. Marianne. Mrs. but a moment's glance at her sister when they returned was enough to inform her. now ventured to say. "Depend upon it. which she was not at liberty to do away. Jennings. This event." After a short pause. "No. not convinced. made her unfit for any thing. you. and on Mrs. to press for greater openness in Marianne. Marianne. under such circumstances. ma'am. We have neither of us any thing to tell. restored to those of her sister all.Abika." answered Marianne with energy." Elinor. prevented their calling Get any book for free on: www. I have nothing to tell. From this moment her mind was never quiet. "our situations then are alike. "indeed. took it instantly up. A note was just then brought in. this reproach from YOU--you who have confidence in no one!" "Me!" returned Elinor in some confusion. and a violent cold on her own. Jennings soon appeared. for my mistress. and . a little--not much. "Yes.

Jennings. and a mere side-board collation. Palmer sauntered towards the Miss Dashwoods to express his surprise on seeing them in town. This was an affair. where the reputation of elegance was more important and less easily attained. "Aye. necessary as it was in common civility to Mrs. to have it known that Lady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine couple. you would not have been a bit tired: and to say the truth it was not very pretty of him not to give you the meeting when he was invited. Mr. of which Lady Middleton did not approve. though Colonel Brandon had been first informed of their arrival at his house." And thus ended their discourse. "I thought you were both in Devonshire. it was risking too much for the gratification of a few girls. an unpremeditated dance was very allowable. for still she had seen nothing of Willoughby. Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance in her life. and therefore never came near her. but when the hour of appointment drew near. and he had himself said something very droll on hearing that they were to come." Get any book for free on: www. as she was that evening. and Mrs. After they had been assembled about an hour. Jennings from the other side of the room. and never so much fatigued by the exercise." said Mrs. The invitation was accepted. equally ill-disposed to receive or communicate pleasure. and to amuse them with a ball. and therefore was not more indisposed for amusement abroad. that they should both attend her on such a visit. they received no mark of recognition on their . and merely nodded to Mrs. "When do you go back again?" "I do not know. aye. Elinor had some difficulty in persuading her sister to go. for although scarcely settled in town.Abika." said he. from the former. if a certain person who shall be nameless. Marianne gave one glance round the apartment as she entered: it was enough--HE was not there--and she sat down. She complained of it as they returned to Berkeley Street. Jennings. without seeming to know who they were. as he was careful to avoid the appearance of any attention to his mother-in-law. Palmer were of the party. "we know the reason of all that very well. He looked at them slightly. but in London. whom they had not seen before since their arrival in town. however. than unwilling to run the risk of his calling again in her absence. nearly twenty young people. Sir John had contrived to collect around him.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 116 in Berkeley Street. Elinor found. In the country. that disposition is not materially altered by a change of abode. Mr. had been there. when the evening was over. "Did you?" replied Elinor. with two violins.

by his asking her in a voice of some agitation. and who hated company of any kind. for she could not suppose it to be to any other person. of asking what he meant? He tried to smile as he replied." or "your sister seems out of spirits. was obliged to adopt the simple and common expedient. to procure those inquiries which had been so long delayed. and Elinor began her letter directly.Abika. when he was to congratulate her on the acquisition of a brother? Elinor was not prepared for such a question. or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation. more than once before. "I beg your pardon. Jennings went out by herself on business. but looked exceedingly hurt. and though expressing satisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone." He looked surprised and said. beginning with the observation of "your sister looks unwell to-day. After a pause of several minutes. left the room before he entered it. Elinor resolved to write the next morning to her mother. too restless for employment. Willoughby is very generally known. too anxious for conversation. their silence was broken. but I had not supposed any secrecy intended. Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother. Marianne. "So my daughter Middleton told me. when a rap foretold a visitor. who had seen him from the window. her suspicions of Willoughby's inconstancy. as they openly correspond. "for her own family do not know it." "It cannot be generally known. urging her by every plea of duty and affection to demand from Marianne an account of her real situation with respect to him. and having no answer ready. or of inquiring. either of disclosing. relating all that had passed. that Marianne was again writing to Willoughby. while Marianne. Her letter was scarcely finished. as if he had somewhat in particular to tell her. Mrs. Elinor. for it seems Sir John met him somewhere in the street this . and she was still more eagerly bent on this measure by perceiving after breakfast on the morrow. It was not the first time of her feeling the same kind of conviction.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 117 "Invited!" cried Marianne. walked from one window to the other." Marianne said no more. "your sister's engagement to Mr. He looked more than usually grave. About the middle of the day. Impatient in this situation to be doing something that might lead to her sister's relief. and Colonel Brandon was announced. Get any book for free on: www." returned Elinor. sat for some time without saying a word. for. persuaded that he had some communication to make in which her sister was concerned." he had appeared on the point. I am afraid my inquiry has been impertinent. something particular about her. and hoped by awakening her fears for the health of Marianne. impatiently expected its opening.

Miss Dashwood. that in short concealment. and on her ceasing to speak. that any attempt.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 118 and their marriage is universally talked of. which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowal of his love for her sister. The real state of things between Willoughby and her sister was so little known to herself. I came to inquire. on the answer it would be most proper to give. by her anxiety for the very event that must confirm it. that though she had never been informed by themselves of the terms on which they stood with each other. Excuse me. but I hardly know what to do. to Willoughby that he may endeavour to deserve her. with a melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's unhappiness. Jennings. I believe I have been wrong in saying so much. she debated for a short time. but I was convinced before I could ask the question." "How can that be? By whom can you have heard it mentioned?" "By many--by some of whom you know nothing. that in endeavouring to explain it. "to your sister I wish all imaginable happiness. whatever the event of that affection might be. if concealment be possible. Tell me that it is all absolutely resolved on. She was not immediately able to say anything. she might be as liable to say too much as too little. But still I might not have believed it. to say more than she really knew or believed. for where the mind is perhaps rather unwilling to be convinced. it will always find something to support its doubts. and the Middletons. therefore. by others with whom you are most intimate. Mrs. rose directly from his seat. She acknowledged. she was left. after some consideration. affected her very much. to lessen the uneasiness of her mind on other points. and at the same time wished to shield her conduct from censure. Get any book for free on: www."--took leave. if I had not. Yet as she was convinced that Marianne's affection for Willoughby." These words. and of their correspondence she was not astonished to hear. when the servant let me in today. directed to Mr. could leave no hope of Colonel Brandon's success. accidentally seen a letter in his hand. He listened to her with silent attention. Is every thing finally settled? Is it impossible to-? But I have no right. and was prevented even from wishing it removed. and after saying in a voice of emotion. Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from this conversation. she thought it most prudent and kind. Palmer. on the contrary.Abika. Willoughby in your sister's writing. and even when her spirits were recovered. and I could have no chance of succeeding. is all that remains. of their mutual affection she had no doubt. . and went away. and on your prudence I have the strongest dependence.

though he could not but see her. to see whether it could be unobserved by her. "he is there--he is there--Oh! why does he not look at me? why cannot I speak to him?" "Pray. she started as if she had forgotten that any one was expected. standing within a few yards of them. When they had paid their tribute of politeness by curtsying to the lady of the house. before Elinor perceived Willoughby. wholly dispirited. in applying to her mother. placed themselves at no great distance from the table. Marianne. and seeming equally indifferent whether she went or staid. heard their names announced from one landing-place to another in an audible voice. and when at last they were told that Lady Middleton waited for them at the door. or altering her attitude. and as soon as the string of carriages before them would allow. she and Elinor luckily succeeding to chairs. or to approach Marianne. and insufferably hot. in earnest conversation with a very fashionable looking young woman. without once stirring from her seat. They were engaged about the end of that time to attend Lady Middleton to a party. to make Elinor regret what she had done. and he immediately bowed. to which their arrival must necessarily add. and take their share of the heat and inconvenience. Jennings was kept away by the indisposition of her youngest daughter. After some time spent in saying little or doing less. She sat by the drawing-room fire after tea. Lady Middleton sat down to Cassino. but without attempting to speak to her. pray be composed. alighted. had not her sister caught hold of her. and her whole countenance glowing with sudden delight. At that moment she first perceived him. and insensible of her sister's presence. and for this party. "and do not betray what you feel to every body present. lost in her own thoughts. and entered a room splendidly lit up. and as Marianne was not in spirits for moving about. They arrived in due time at the place of destination. careless of her appearance. quite full of company. and then continued his discourse with the same lady. She soon caught his eye." cried Elinor. till the moment of Lady Middleton's arrival. They had not remained in this manner long." Get any book for free on: www. they were permitted to mingle in the crowd. without one look of hope or one expression of pleasure. she would have moved towards him instantly. for Willoughby neither came nor wrote. Elinor turned involuntarily to Marianne.Abika.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 119 CHAPTER 28 Nothing occurred during the next three or four days. ascended the . "Good heavens!" she exclaimed. from which Mrs. Perhaps he has not observed you yet. prepared.

on catching the eye of the young lady with whom he had been previously talking. Jennings at home. During all this time he was evidently struggling for composure. Tell him I must see him again--must speak to him instantly.-I cannot rest--I shall not have a moment's peace till this Get any book for free on: www.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 120 This however was more than she could believe herself." she cried. Marianne. he spoke with calmness. and Elinor. sunk into her chair. and unable to stand. he recovered himself again. what is the matter?" He made no reply. Elinor. but as if. "Go to him. "Here is some mistake I am sure--some dreadful mistake. while reviving her with lavender water. what is the meaning of this? Have you not received my letters? Will you not shake hands with me?" He could not then avoid it. inquired in a hurried manner after . as soon as she could speak. She sat in an agony of impatience which affected every feature." "But have you not received my notes?" cried Marianne in the wildest anxiety. Dashwood. and regarded them both. "Good God! Willoughby. What can be the meaning of it? Tell me." turned hastily away with a slight bow and joined his friend. expecting every moment to see her faint. I hope. "Yes. tried to screen her from the observation of others. in a voice of the greatest emotion. and determined not to observe her attitude. she started up. which you were so good as to send me. At last he turned round again. Elinor was robbed of all presence of mind by such an address.Abika. Willoughby. as if wishing to avoid her eye. and asked how long they had been in town. and after saying. and addressing himself rather to Elinor than Marianne. but her touch seemed painful to him. Her face was crimsoned over. and he held her hand only for a moment. and pronouncing his name in a tone of affection. and to be composed at such a moment was not only beyond the reach of Marianne. He approached. I had the pleasure of receiving the information of your arrival in town. he felt the necessity of instant exertion. Elinor watched his countenance and saw its expression becoming more tranquil. for heaven's sake tell me. "and force him to come to me. his complexion changed and all his embarrassment returned. held out her hand to him. it was beyond her wish. and she exclaimed. After a moment's pause. My card was not lost. But the feelings of her sister were instantly expressed. and was unable to say a word. "I did myself the honour of calling in Berkeley Street last Tuesday. and very much regretted that I was not fortunate enough to find yourselves and Mrs. now looking dreadfully white.

" With difficulty however could she prevent her from following him herself. and on those still more Get any book for free on: www. till she might speak to him with more privacy and more effect. for Marianne continued incessantly to give way in a low voice to the misery of her feelings. That some kind of engagement had subsisted between Willoughby and Marianne she could not doubt. had she not witnessed that embarrassment which seemed to speak a consciousness of his own misconduct. they departed as soon the carriage could be found. at least. and convenience might have determined him to overcome it. Nothing but a thorough change of sentiment could account for it. on being informed that Marianne was unwell. as a fresh argument for her to be calm. As for Marianne. Wait only till tomorrow. for however Marianne might still feed her own wishes. and prevented her from believing him so unprincipled as to have been sporting with the affections of her sister from the first. In a short time Elinor saw Willoughby quit the room by the door towards the staircase. SHE could not attribute such behaviour to mistake or misapprehension of any . you must wait. was impossible. and to persuade her to check her agitation. as she was too miserable to stay a minute longer. and telling Marianne that he was gone. too much oppressed even for tears. This is not the place for explanations. without any design that would bear investigation.-Oh go to him this moment. but as Mrs. where hartshorn restored her a little to herself. seemed equally clear.Abika. had leisure enough for thinking over the past. was too polite to object for a moment to her wish of going away. but that such a regard had formerly existed she could not bring herself to doubt. on the pangs which so unhappy a meeting must already have given her. to wait. Marianne was in a silent agony. urged the impossibility of speaking to him again that evening. Jennings. and as she seemed desirous of being alone. Lady Middleton. She instantly begged her sister would entreat Lady Middleton to take them home. She was soon undressed and in bed. though in the middle of a rubber. her sister then left her. Jennings was luckily not come home. my dearest Marianne. they could go directly to their own room. and making over her cards to a friend.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 121 is explained--some dreadful misapprehension or other. by exclamations of wretchedness. and while she waited the return of Mrs." "How can that be done? No. Absence might have weakened his regard. Scarcely a word was spoken during their return to Berkeley Street. with the appearance of composure. Her indignation would have been still stronger than it was. and that Willoughby was weary of it.

In this situation. "Marianne. and the frequent bursts of grief which still obliged her. and she would have tried to sooth and tranquilize her still more.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 122 severe which might await her in its probable consequence. in a tone of the most considerate gentleness. roused from sleep by her agitation and sobs. At breakfast she neither ate. Elinor. and the restless state of Marianne's mind not only prevented her from remaining in the room a moment after she was dressed." she replied. gloomy morning in January. But every circumstance that could embitter such an evil seemed uniting to heighten the misery of Marianne in a final separation from Willoughby--in an immediate and irreconcilable rupture with him. Elinor. not to speak to her for the world. Get any book for free on: www. but in endeavouring to engage Mrs. or the sun gained any power over a cold. and was immediately followed by a return of the same excessive affliction. nor in appearing to regard her. CHAPTER 29 Before the house-maid had lit their fire the next day. it was better for both that they should not be long together. may I ask-?" "No. not in urging her. nor attempted to eat any thing. and Elinor's attention was then all employed. her mind might be always supported. only half dressed. said. Her own situation gained in the comparison. "ask nothing. was kneeling against one of the window-seats for the sake of all the little light she could command from it." The sort of desperate calmness with which this was said. first perceived her. had not Marianne entreated her. but requiring at once solitude and continual change of place. Jenning's notice entirely to herself. at intervals. not in pitying her. she could not reflect without the deepest concern. to withhold her pen. however they might be divided in future. made her wander about the house till breakfast time. were proofs enough of her feeling how more than probable it was that she was writing for the last time to . and after observing her for a few moments with silent anxiety. In such circumstances. It was some minutes before she could go on with her letter. Elinor paid her every quiet and unobtrusive attention in her power.Abika. with all the eagerness of the most nervous irritability. lasted no longer than while she spoke. Marianne. for while she could ESTEEM Edward as much as ever. and writing as fast as a continual flow of tears would permit her. avoiding the sight of every body. you will soon know all.

and sat in such a general tremour as made her fear it impossible to escape Mrs. obliged herself to answer such an attack as this. therefore. Miss Dashwood! how can you talk so? Don't we all know that it must be a match. and which she treated accordingly. for shame. That good lady. I tell every body of it and so does Charlotte. Of Elinor's distress. Elinor. that they were over head and ears in love with each other from the first moment they met? Did not I see them together in Devonshire every day. that it must come from Willoughby. Willoughby? I thought it had been only a joke. which she eagerly caught from the servant. and you will find that you have though you will not believe me now. very seriously. but as for Miss Marianne. when a letter was delivered to Marianne. I do assure you that nothing would surprise me more than to hear of their being going to be married. with a laugh." Mrs. you think nobody else has any senses. but so serious a question seems to imply more. however. Jennings. from the bottom of my heart. I hope. she said. come. Indeed." "Indeed. though never less disposed to speak than at that moment. for it is quite grievous to see her look so ill and forlorn. that she would find it to her liking. but Elinor had not Get any book for free on: www." "For shame. to see any thing at all. that you will not deceive yourself any longer. as if she had seen the direction." said Elinor. but it is no such thing. as soon as Marianne disappeared. "And have you really. round the common working table. I can tell you. Ma'am. Jenning's notice. felt immediately such a sickness at heart as made her hardly able to hold up her head. and did not I know that your sister came to town with me on purpose to buy wedding clothes? . talked yourself into a persuasion of my sister's being engaged to Mr. Jennings laughed again. "Upon my word. I never saw a young woman so desperately in love in my life! MY girls were nothing to her. he won't keep her waiting much longer. which appeared to her a very good joke. "you are mistaken. after it. saw only that Marianne had received a letter from Willoughby. replied. and I must beg. it lasted a considerable time. she is quite an altered creature. who saw as plainly by this. when are they to be married?" Elinor. and calmly continuing her talk. and.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 123 As this was a favourite meal with Mrs. and. Ma'am. and yet they used to be foolish enough. and they were just setting themselves. you are doing a very unkind thing in spreading the report. this won't do. by hoping. Because you are so sly about it yourself. therefore. for it has been known all over town this ever so long. turning of a death-like paleness. she was too busily employed in measuring lengths of worsted for her rug. Pray. and all day long.Abika. instantly ran out of the room. trying to smile.

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 124 spirits to say more. "I have just had the honour of receiving your letter. or meant to express. for which I beg to return my sincere acknowledgments. and it will not be many weeks. may be imagined. The latter. and flatter myself it will not be broken by any mistake or misapprehension of my actions. when you understand that my affections have been long engaged elsewhere. dear Madam. and eager at all events to know what Willoughby had written. must have its course. It is with great regret that I obey your commands in returning the letters with which I have been honoured from you. and after some time thus spent in joint affliction. and then gave way to a burst of tears. hurried away to their room. she saw Marianne stretched on the bed. Elinor. January. but without saying a word. kissed her affectionately several times. watched by her till this excess of suffering had somewhat spent itself. who knew that such grief. but if I have been so unfortunate as to give rise to a belief of more than I felt. and the lock of hair. shocking as it was to witness it. and though I am quite at a loss to discover in what point I could be so unfortunate as to offend you. before this engagement is fulfilled. I entreat your forgiveness of what I can assure you to have been perfectly unintentional. I shall never reflect on my former acquaintance with your family in Devonshire without the most grateful pleasure. That I should ever have meant more you will allow to be impossible.Abika. she put all the letters into Elinor's hands. "JOHN WILLOUGHBY. I believe. Get any book for free on: www. "MY DEAR . almost screamed with agony. I am much concerned to find there was anything in my behaviour last night that did not meet your approbation. My esteem for your whole family is very sincere. on opening the door. seemed to feel all the tenderness of this behaviour. one letter in her hand. which you so obligingly bestowed on me. took her hand. "I am. Elinor drew near. almost choked by grief. where." With what indignation such a letter as this must be read by Miss Dashwood. and two or three others laying by her. "Your most obedient "humble servant. which at first was scarcely less violent than Marianne's. though unable to speak. Though aware. read as follows: "Bond Street. and seating herself on the bed. I shall reproach myself for not having been more guarded in my professions of that esteem. and then turning eagerly to Willoughby's letter. and then covering her face with her handkerchief.

as a deliverance the most real. she was not aware that such language could be suffered to announce it. and Elinor. with an unprincipled man. as to send a letter so impudently cruel: a letter which. that it must bring a confession of his inconstancy. at present. a connection. and she was at last able to express some sense of her kindness. A glass of wine. denied all peculiar affection whatever-a letter of which every line was an insult. Jennings's chariot. "Poor Elinor! how unhappy I make you!" Get any book for free on: www. instead of bringing with his desire of a release any professions of regret. and probably. though hopeless of contributing.Abika. Jennings. Determined not to quit Marianne. she hurried away to excuse herself from attending Mrs. and so entirely forgot how long she had been in the room. on the very different mind of a very different person. faint and giddy from a long want of proper rest and food. she was all astonishment to perceive Mrs. lest she might wound Marianne still deeper by treating their disengagement. made her more comfortable. with a thoroughly good-humoured concern for its cause. Jennings. and many nights since she had really slept. She paused over it for some time with indignant astonishment. on account of her sister being indisposed. and which proclaimed its writer to be deep in hardened villainy. but every perusal only served to increase her abhorrence of the man.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 125 before she began it. and whom she reached just in time to prevent her from falling on the floor. and so bitter were her feelings against . and now. that when on hearing a carriage drive up to the door. to her ease. whom she found attempting to rise from the bed. admitted the excuse most readily. In her earnest meditations on the contents of the letter. then read it again and again. who had no other connection whatever with the affair than what her heart gave him with every thing that passed. that she dared not trust herself to speak. nor could she have supposed Willoughby capable of departing so far from the appearance of every honourable and delicate feeling--so far from the common decorum of a gentleman. when her mind was no longer supported by the fever of suspense. which she knew had not been ordered till one. Elinor forgot the immediate distress of her sister. a blessing the most important. the consequence of all this was felt in an aching head. and confirm their separation for ever. which Elinor procured for her directly. after seeing her safe off. returned to Marianne. for life. by saying. on the depravity of that mind which could dictate it. a weakened stomach. for it was many days since she had any appetite. and a general nervous faintness. Mrs. acknowledged no breach of faith. not as a loss to her of any possible good but as an escape from the worst and most irremediable of all evils. she went to the window to see who could be coming so unreasonably early. forgot that she had three letters on her lap yet unread.

"No. would have made the blow more dreadful." replied her sister. as it might have been. Elinor could no longer witness this torrent of unresisted grief in silence." "No engagement!" " .Abika." she cried. happy Elinor. Marianne." cried Marianne wildly. leave me. if I distress you. Oh! how easy for those." said Elinor. Edward loves you--what. "leave me." cried Marianne." "And you will never see me otherwise. Get any book for free on: www. no. "if you would not kill yourself and all who love you. which might be of comfort to you. dear Marianne. who could only exclaim. a misery which nothing can do away. think of what you would have suffered if the discovery of his character had been delayed to a later period-if your engagement had been carried on for months and months. Every additional day of unhappy confidence." throwing her arms round her sister's neck. was too much for Marianne. but yet you are--you must be happy. You CAN have no grief. before he chose to put an end to it. YOU cannot have an idea of what I suffer." Mine is "You must not talk so. "Oh! Elinor. I cannot. can do away such happiness as that?" "Many. indeed. Have you no comforts? no friends? Is your loss such as leaves no opening for consolation? Much as you suffer now. as every thing else would have been." This." "Do you call ME happy. Think of your mother. "he loves you. forget me! but do not torture me so." "I can have no pleasure while I see you in this state. hate me. solemnly." before her voice was entirely lost in sobs. "Exert yourself." "Engagement!" cried Marianne. I know what a heart you have. Marianne? Ah! if you knew!--And can you believe me to be so." "I cannot. "I know you feel for me. forgive me. in the anguish of her heart. "there were any thing I COULD do. on your side. leave me. while I see you so wretched!" "Forgive me. no. think of her misery while YOU suffer: for her sake you must exert yourself. I am miserable. oh what. and only you. who have no sorrow of their own to talk of exertion! Happy. many circumstances. he is not so unworthy as you believe him. "there has been no engagement.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 126 "I only wish.

" Her second note. Willoughby. January. because we are generally out by one. was a temptation we could not resist. At any rate I shall expect you to-morrow. "How surprised you will be. and explain the reason of my having expected this in vain. The first. I wish you may receive this in time to come here to-night. "M. Berkeley Street. adieu.D." "Yet you wrote to him?"-"Yes--could that be wrong after all that had passed?-But I cannot talk." "But he told you that he loved you. but I will not depend on it. Jennings. For the present. and you not there. and still more to see you. which had been written on the morning after the dance at the Middletons'. But I will not suppose this possible. on receiving this. was to this effect. directly ran over the contents of all." Elinor said no more. It was every day implied. by your Get any book for free on: www. I have been told that you were asked to be of the party." The contents of her last note to him were these:-"What am I to imagine. nor my astonishment at not having received any answer to a note which I sent you above a week ago. Sometimes I thought it had been--but it never . and I hope very soon to receive your personal assurance of its being otherwise. and I think you will feel something more than surprise.Abika. when you know that I am in town. Willoughby. But could it be so? You must be very much altered indeed since we parted. if that could be the case. and turning again to the three letters which now raised a much stronger curiosity than before. which was what her sister had sent him on their arrival in town. We were last night at Lady Middleton's. but never professedly declared. "M." "Yes--no--never absolutely. every hour of the day. was in these words:-"I cannot express my disappointment in having missed you the day before yesterday. I have been expecting to hear from you.D. Pray call again as soon as possible. An opportunity of coming hither. You had better come earlier another time. where there was a dance.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 127 He has broken no faith with me. though with Mrs.

which now he can so readily give up. when Marianne. You have perhaps been misinformed. in being able to satisfy you.D. Had you seen his look. but certainty on either side will be ease to what I now suffer. "I felt myself. was begged of me with the most earnest supplication. If your sentiments are no longer what they were. and she was silently grieving over the imprudence which had hazarded such unsolicited proofs of tenderness. but though I have not yet been able to form any reasonable apology for your behaviour. Tell me what it is. so full of affection and confidence. "to be as solemnly engaged to him. which may have lowered me in your opinion. his manner. that your regard for us all was insincere. explain the grounds on which you acted.Abika. not warranted by anything preceding. you will return my notes.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 128 behaviour last night? Again I demand an explanation of it. that your behaviour to me was intended only to deceive. Elinor--for weeks and weeks he felt it. (and nothing but the blackest art employed against me can have done it)." "I can believe it. and the lock of my hair which is in your possession. I know he did. But her condemnation of him did not blind her to the impropriety of their having been written at all. This lock of hair." she added." That such letters. and most severely condemned by the event. I was prepared to meet you with the pleasure which our separation naturally produced. I was repulsed indeed! I have passed a wretched night in endeavouring to excuse a conduct which can scarcely be called less than insulting. "M. as if the strictest legal covenant had bound us to each other." said Elinor. perceiving that she had finished the letters. Whatever may have changed him now. My feelings are at present in a state of dreadful indecision. observed to her that they contained nothing but what any one would have written in the same situation. Elinor. "but unfortunately he did not feel the same. or purposely deceived." "He DID feel the . for Willoughby's sake. I wish to acquit you. in something concerning me. I was once as dear to him as my own soul could wish. It would grieve me indeed to be obliged to think ill of you. with the familiarity which our intimacy at Barton appeared to me to justify. but if I am to do it. could have been so answered. had you heard his voice at that moment! Have you forgot the last evening of our being together at Barton? The morning that we parted Get any book for free on: www. and I shall be satisfied. if I am to learn that you are not what we have hitherto believed you. would have been unwilling to believe. let it be told as soon as possible. I am perfectly ready to hear your justification of it.

" "Dearest Marianne." "But for my mother's sake and mine--" "I would do more than for my own. Whatever he might have heard against me-ought he not to have suspended his belief? ought he not to Get any book for free on: www.Abika. may have been so barbarous to bely me. or discerning objects through the other. "Elinor. she . Willoughby. let them be cheated of their malignant triumph. and only replied. and Edward. nothing can. Willoughby. This woman of whom he writes--whoever she be--or any one. is there a creature in the world whom I would not rather suspect of evil than Willoughby. cruel--nothing can acquit you. I could rather believe every creature of my acquaintance leagued together to ruin me in his opinion. in a firmer tone. rather than by his own heart. they who suffer little may be proud and independent as they like--may resist insult.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 129 too! When he told me that it might be many weeks before we met again--his distress--can I ever forget his distress?" For a moment or two she could say no more. in short. Elinor was employed in walking thoughtfully from the fire to the window. my dear sister. Elinor. I have been cruelly used. It is a reasonable and laudable pride which resists such malevolence. could this be yours! Cruel. "misery such as mine has no pride. or return mortification--but I cannot. "Whoever may have been so detestably your enemy. but your own dear self." cried Marianne. Elinor. after shuddering over every sentence. and. again took up Willoughby's letter. The triumph of seeing me so may be open to all the world. seated at the foot of the bed. Beyond you three. but when this emotion had passed away. and Marianne. Elinor. I must feel--I must be wretched--and they are welcome to enjoy the consciousness of it that can. than believe his nature capable of such cruelty. I care not who knows that I am wretched. with her head leaning against one of its posts. without knowing that she received warmth from one. no." "No. from the window to the fire. mama. but not by Willoughby. by seeing how nobly the consciousness of your own innocence and good intentions supports your spirits. But to appear happy when I am so miserable--Oh! who can require it?" Again they were both silent. who but himself? have been instigated?" By whom can he "By all the world. whose heart I know so well?" Elinor would not contend. exclaimed-"It is too much! Oh.

Willoughby. "Elinor. were of use. and without waiting to have her request of admittance answered." Another pause ensued. barbarously insolent!--Elinor." "Well then. and in restless pain of mind and body she moved from one posture to another. another day or two. Marianne. I must go and comfort mama. We owe Mrs. I cannot stay to endure the questions and remarks of all these people. perhaps. can he be justified?" "No. no one--he talked to me only of myself. (repeating it from the letter. but I cannot stay here long.) which you so obligingly bestowed on me'--That is unpardonable." "And yet this woman--who knows what her art may have been?--how long it may have been premeditated. and how deeply contrived by her!--Who is she?--Who can she be?--Whom did I ever hear him talk of as young and attractive among his female acquaintance?--Oh! no one. Marianne!" "Yes.Abika. Marianne was greatly agitated. The Middletons and Palmers--how am I to bear their pity? The pity of such a woman as Lady Middleton! Oh. why should I stay here? I came only for Willoughby's sake--and now who cares for me? Who regards me?" "It would be impossible to go to-morrow. in no possible way. and from that time till Mrs. opened the door and walked in with a look of real concern. she continued on the bed quiet and motionless. I must go home. which she was at length persuaded to take. and civility of the commonest kind must prevent such a hasty removal as that. CHAPTER 30 Mrs. and for a moment she did so. Jennings came immediately to their room on her return. what would HE say to that!" Elinor advised her to lie down again. to have given me the power of clearing myself? 'The lock of hair.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 130 have told me of it. her sister could with difficulty keep her on the bed at all. but no attitude could give her ease. Can not we be gone to-morrow?" "To-morrow. Jennings returned. Some lavender drops. where was your heart when you wrote those words? Oh. and it ended thus. till growing more and more hysterical. and for some time was fearful of being constrained to call for assistance. "How do you do my dear?"--said she in a voice of great Get any book for free on: . however. Jennings much more than civility.

she would go down. she could bear it very well. determined on dining with them. and returned her those civilities. that if this be true. I will give him such a dressing as he has not had this many a day. this calmness could not have been maintained. to the surprise of her sister. Well. as if she supposed her young friend's affliction could be increased by noise. Had she tried to speak. He is to be married very soon--a good-for-nothing fellow! I have no patience with him. and the abstraction of her thoughts preserved her in ignorance of every thing that was passing before her. he has used a young lady of my acquaintance abominably ill. made her those acknowledgments. and the bustle about her would be less. and felt that every thing was due to her which might make her at all less so. was ready to assist her into the dining room as soon as they were summoned to it. it is but too true. and sometimes almost ridiculous. Ay. you may depend on it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 131 compassion to Marianne. Jennings's kindness. The Parrys and Sandersons luckily are coming tonight you know. and I wish with all my soul his wife may plague his heart out. Well. Taylor told me of it half an hour ago. which her sister could not make or return for herself. She treated her therefore. else I am sure I should not have believed it. pleased to have her governed for a moment by such a motive. she ate more and was calmer than her sister had expected. When there. said I. and adjusting her dress for her as well as she could. but not a syllable escaped her lips. and if ever I meet him again. for she had better have her cry out at once and have done with. and she was told it by a particular friend of Miss Grey herself." Elinor. But there is one comfort. my dear. said no more. Mrs. he is not the only young man in the world worth having. and with your pretty face you will never want admirers. Elinor. But "no. And so I shall always say. Miss Dashwood?--Poor thing! she looks very bad. Their good friend saw that Marianne was unhappy. Jennings's well-meant but ill-judged attentions to her. though believing it hardly possible that she could sit out the dinner. poor thing! I won't disturb her any longer. all I can say is. while Marianne still remained on the bed. and I was almost ready to sink as it was. Elinor even advised her against it. with all the indulgent fondness Get any book for free on: www. though its effusions were often distressing. "How is she." She then went away. I have no notion of men's going on in this way. who turned away her face without attempting to answer. Marianne. and that will amuse . though looking most wretchedly.Abika. who did justice to Mrs. walking on tiptoe out of the room.-No wonder. or had she been conscious of half Mrs. my dear Miss Marianne.

let his house. "Poor soul!" cried Mrs. "how it grieves me to see her! And I declare if she is not gone away without finishing her wine! And the dried cherries too! Lord! nothing seems to do her any good. and a good fire. sell his horses. indeed I hardly ever heard her mentioned. But the family are all rich together. nothing in the way of pleasure can ever be given up by the young men of this age. As soon. Ellison could never . for she and Mrs. it won't come before it's wanted."-- Get any book for free on: www.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 132 of a parent towards a favourite child on the last day of its holidays. for they say he is all to pieces. she could have been entertained by Mrs. Jennings. Miss Marianne would have been ready to wait till matters came round. that one day Miss Walker hinted to her. Biddy Henshawe.Abika. and a richer girl is ready to have him. as soon as she was gone. except that Mrs. seen a check to all mirth. and next to none on the other. and make a thorough reform at once? I warrant you. I am sure if I knew of any thing she would like. Well. however. was to be tempted to eat by every delicacy in the house. Did you ever see her? a smart. in the sad countenance of her sister. Taylor did say this morning. and promises marriage. and Mrs. and to be amused by the relation of all the news of the day. by a variety of sweetmeats and olives. turn off his servants. No wonder! dashing about with his curricle and hunters! Well. that a man should use such a pretty girl so ill! But when there is plenty of money on one side. Marianne was to have the best place by the fire." "Do you know what kind of a girl Miss Grey is? Is she said to be amiable?" "I never heard any harm of her. Fifty thousand pounds! and by all accounts. it is the oddest thing to me. But that won't do now-a-days. Ellison would not be sorry to have Miss Grey married. my dear. I remember her aunt very well. and a sign to her sister not to follow her. be who he will. stylish girl they say. Jennings's endeavours to cure a disappointment in love. she could stay no longer. that she believed Mr. he has no business to fly off from his word only because he grows poor. Why don't he. as the consciousness of all this was forced by continual repetition on Marianne. but not handsome. comes and makes love to a pretty girl. she married a very wealthy man. I would send all over the town for it. in such a case. but when a young man. she directly got up and hurried out of the room. it don't signify talking. Had not Elinor. With a hasty exclamation of Misery. Lord bless you! they care no more about such things!--" "The lady then--Miss Grey I think you called her-is very rich?" "Fifty thousand pounds.

Lord! how concerned Sir John and my daughters will be when they hear it! If I had my senses about me I might have called in Conduit Street in my way home. to moan by herself. And what does talking ever do you know?" "In this affair it can only do harm. But I shall see them tomorrow. I shall persuade her if I can to go early to bed. Well. And so the letter that came today finished it! Poor soul! I am sure if I had had a notion of it. for they are all very thoughtful and considerate. for it has been attended by circumstances which. I am sure I would not mention a word about it to her for the world. make it unfit to become the public conversation. the sooner 'tis blown over and . before my sister. how should I guess such a thing? I made sure of its being nothing but a common love letter. it seems quite cruel to let her be alone. I dare say. No more would Sir John. I believe that will be best for her. I must do THIS justice to Get any book for free on: www. more so perhaps than in many cases of a similar kind. as you my dear madam will easily believe. the better. for this matter I suppose has been hanging over her head as long as that. nor my daughters. or making the slightest allusion to what has passed. and a pretty choice she has made!--What now. Is there nothing one can get to comfort her? Poor dear. But now she is of age and may choose for herself. for I am sure she wants rest. You saw I did not all dinner time. my dear. and told them of it. that I do indeed. and go to bed. Let her name her own supper. Palmer and Sir John against ever naming Mr. will not leave her room again this evening.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 133 "And who are the Ellisons?" "Her guardians. this kindness is quite unnecessary." after pausing a moment--"your poor sister is gone to her own room. as I certainly will. For my part. and the less that may ever be said to myself on the subject. but is there no round game she cares for?" "Dear ma'am. It must be terrible for you to hear it talked of. especially if I give them a hint. I would not have joked her about it for all my money. What shall we play at? She hates whist I know. and you know young people like to be laughed at about them.Abika. for you to caution Mrs. Marianne. I suppose. and that will amuse her a little. for the sake of every one concerned in it. and as for your sister. Their own good-nature must point out to them the real cruelty of appearing to know any thing about it when she is present. the more my feelings will be spared. I think the less that is said about such things." "Oh! Lord! yes." "It would be unnecessary I am sure. Willoughby. by-and-by we shall have a few friends." "Aye. But then you know. Lord! no wonder she has been looking so bad and so cast down this last week or two.

I can tell you. Mind me. whom she found." said Elinor. if they an't married by Mid-summer. "we shall do very well with or without Colonel Brandon. some delightful stew-ponds. which." And then rising. moreover. After a short silence on both sides. He will have her at last. I had forgot her. as she expected. "I will leave you. in silent misery. since. I shall spirit up the Colonel as soon as I can. you know. If we CAN but put Willoughby out of her head!" "Ay. you may see all the carriages that pass along.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 134 Mr. "if you will go Get any book for free on: www. now. One shoulder of mutton. had been her only light. No positive engagement indeed! after taking her all over Allenham House. quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in the country. and fixing on the very rooms they were to live in hereafter!" Elinor. Oh! 'tis a nice place! A butcher hard by in the village. "You had better leave me.Abika. in short. so 'tis never dull. and she hoped it was not required of her for Willoughby's. Mrs. there is a dove-cote. where they are forced to send three miles for their meat. Willoughby--he has broken no positive engagement with my sister. and every thing. burst forth again. aye. To my fancy. exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place. for it will be all the better for Colonel Brandon. but she may be 'prenticed out at a small cost. though Marianne might lose much. Ma'am. that one could wish for. for her sister's sake. till Elinor's entrance. and the parsonage-house within a stone's throw. Two thousand a year without debt or drawback--except the little love-child. and. over the small remains of a fire. indeed. It will be all to one a better match for your sister. Well. my . and only a quarter of a mile from the turnpike-road. Lord! how he'll chuckle over this news! I hope he will come tonight. and such a mulberry tree in one corner! Lord! how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we were there! Then." was all the notice that her sister received from her. aye. "Well. she went away to join Marianne. and a very pretty canal. for if you only go and sit up in an old yew arbour behind the house. drives another down." said Elinor. in her own room. and then what does it signify? Delaford is a nice place. and have not a neighbour nearer than your mother. Jennings. with all her natural hilarity. 'tis a true saying about an ill-wind. leaning." "Law. that he will. if we can do THAT. a thousand times prettier than Barton Park. my dear! Don't pretend to defend him. could not press the subject farther. it is close to the church. full of comforts and conveniences. he could gain very little by the enforcement of the real truth.

" "What did you hear?" Get any book for free on: www. Jennings. almost asleep. with a wine-glass. that he was already aware of what occasioned her absence. though gentle persuasion. on a disappointed heart might be as reasonably tried on herself as on her sister. "how good you are! But I have just left Marianne in bed." But this. "Marianne is not well. "what I heard this morning may be--there may be more truth in it than I could believe possible at first.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 135 to bed. Colonel Brandon came in while the party were at tea. reflected. In the drawing-room. full of something. from the momentary perverseness of impatient suffering. he said it did him more good than any thing else in the world." He shortly afterwards drew a chair close to her' . He knows nothing of it." "Dear Ma'am." said she. and as I think nothing will be of so much service to her as rest. in a way to get some quiet rest before she left her. of little importance to her. Do take it to your sister." "Perhaps. she at first refused to do." said she. at present.Abika." Mrs. and. Jennings was not struck by the same thought. however. for soon after his entrance. "My dear. "She has been indisposed all day. I hope. and by his manner of looking round the room for Marianne. that though its effects on a colicky gout were. and. was satisfied with the compromise. if you will give me leave. and whispered-"The Colonel looks as grave as ever you see. Her sister's earnest. do tell him. in short. entering. in her hand. "I have just recollected that I have some of the finest old Constantia wine in the house that ever was tasted. inquired after her sister. my dear. so I have brought a glass of it for your sister. My poor husband! how fond he was of it! Whenever he had a touch of his old colicky gout. smiling at the difference of the complaints for which it was recommended. whither she then repaired. and Elinor saw her lay her aching head on the pillow. and we have persuaded her to go to bed." he hesitatingly replied. she was soon joined by Mrs. Jennings. Mrs. and as she hoped. Elinor immediately fancied that he neither expected nor wished to see her there. though regretting that she had not been five minutes earlier. she walked across the room to the tea-table where Elinor presided. I will drink the wine myself. soon softened her to compliance. as she swallowed the chief of it. then. and." replied Elinor. and Elinor. with a look which perfectly assured her of his good information. its healing powers.

It has been. whom I had reason to think--in short. that it was impossible for me not to hear all. Two ladies were waiting for their carriage. I remember. where I had business. by the removal Get any book for free on: www. was a Mrs. He has been very deceitful! and. if in any thing. we DO know it all. but Willoughby is capable--at least I think"--he stopped a moment." "You mean. This seems to have been a day of general elucidation. in some points. Till yesterday. they were to go to Combe Magna." "Ah!" said Colonel Brandon. frequently repeated. But have you likewise heard that Miss Grey has fifty thousand pounds? In that. in a voice so little attempting concealment. The name of Willoughby. as surely you must. Willoughby's marriage with Miss Grey. and what followed was a positive assertion that every thing was now finally settled respecting his marriage with Miss Grey--it was no longer to be a secret--it would take place even within a few weeks.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 136 "That a gentleman. Ellison. she never doubted his regard. I may be spared. Yes. "And your sister-how did she--" "Her sufferings have been very severe. indeed! your sister does not--I think you said so--she does not consider quite as you do?" But "You know her disposition. The communicative lady I learnt. "Mr. especially. we may find an explanation." answered Elinor. on inquiry. and may believe how eagerly she would still justify him if she could. for this very morning first unfolded it to us. I have only to hope that they may be proportionately short. One thing. "there is. I believe. Willoughby is unfathomable! Where did you hear it?" "In a stationer's shop in Pall Mall. because it served to identify the man still more:--as soon as the ceremony was over." "It may be so. his seat in Somersetshire." He made no answer. and that. as I have been since informed. then added in a voice which seemed to distrust itself. John Willoughby. and soon afterwards. with forced calmness. there seems a hardness of heart about him. and even now. Mr.Abika. My astonishment!--but it would be impossible to describe what I ." "It is. whom I KNEW to be engaged--but how shall I tell you? If you know it already. first caught my attention. for I stayed in the shop till they were gone. with many particulars of preparations and other matters. it is a most cruel affliction. that a man. and one of them was giving the other an account of the intended match. perhaps--but I am almost convinced that he never was really attached to her. is the name of Miss Grey's guardian.

which sunk the heart of Mrs. when it came to the point. At one moment she was absolutely indifferent to the observation of all the world. at another she would seclude herself from it for ever. Jennings still lower in her estimation. Jennings." she cried. Marianne awoke the next morning to the same consciousness of misery in which she had closed her eyes. as might have become a man in the bloom of youth. no. they had gone through the subject again and again. and the too great importance placed by her on the delicacies of a strong sensibility. with excellent abilities and an excellent disposition. no. Mrs. Her heart was hardened against the belief of Mrs. and with the same steady conviction and affectionate counsel on Elinor's side. saw him. as before. and the graces of a polished manner. and in a determined silence when obliged to endure it." Elinor had not needed this to be assured of the injustice to which her sister was often led in her opinion of others. where it was possible. the same impetuous feelings and varying opinions on Marianne' . remain the whole evening more serious and thoughtful than usual. Sometimes she could believe Willoughby to be as unfortunate and as innocent as herself. Jennings's entering into her sorrows with any compassion. Thus a circumstance occurred. of hope and happiness. the presence of Mrs. Get any book for free on: www. through her own weakness. and at a third could resist it with energy. in such an instantaneous gaiety on Colonel Brandon's side. and before breakfast was ready. she was uniform. her good-nature is not tenderness. lost every consolation in the impossibility of acquitting him.Abika. "No. and at others. Jennings. and she only likes me now because I supply it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 137 of the tea-things. while the sisters were together in their own room after breakfast. the subject was necessarily dropped. and the arrangement of the card parties. with amazement. in avoiding. All that she wants is gossip. however. it cannot be. Elinor encouraged her as much as possible to talk of what she felt. In one thing. Like half the rest of the world. CHAPTER XXXI From a night of more sleep than she had expected. Her kindness is not sympathy. "she cannot feel. because. Marianne. was neither reasonable nor candid. it chanced to prove a source of fresh pain to herself. who had watched them with pleasure while they were talking. and she judged of their motives by the immediate effect of their actions on herself. if more than half there be that are clever and good. She expected from other people the same opinions and feelings as her own. and who expected to see the effect of Miss Dashwood's communication. by the irritable refinement of her own mind.

she felt as if. by Marianne's letter. Jennings no language. could have expressed. saying. by the eloquence of his eyes. and she was wildly urgent to be gone. to intreat from Marianne greater openness towards them both. Her mother. and perceiving. Mrs. she had never suffered. Willoughby filled every page. Elinor. dearer through the very excess of her mistaken confidence in Willoughby. however. But the letter. within her reach in her moments of happiest eloquence. The hand writing of her mother. and countenance gaily smiling. aware of the pain she was going to communicate. Jennings left them earlier than usual. and at length she obtained her sister's consent to wait for that knowledge. with a very heavy heart. The cruelty of Mrs. brought little comfort. and positively refusing Elinor's offered attendance. that she wept with agony through the whole of it. such affection for Willoughby. had only been roused by Elinor's application. in the acuteness of the disappointment which followed such an ecstasy of more than hope. and this. full of tenderness and contrition. how ill she had succeeded in laying any foundation for it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 138 though Mrs. "Now. for she could not be easy till the Middletons and Palmers were able to grieve as much as herself. from the persuasion of bringing comfort. convincing. Jennings was governed in it by an impulse of the utmost goodwill. she entered their room. and such a conviction of their future happiness in each other. The work of one moment was destroyed by the next. still confident of their engagement. unable herself to determine whether it were better for Marianne to be in London or at Barton. explanatory of all that had passed. when she was calm enough to read it. that after many expressions of pity. with such tenderness towards her. so entirely lost on its object. Elinor. and now she could reproach her only by the tears which streamed from her eyes with passionate violence--a reproach. still referring her to the letter of comfort. and relying as warmly as ever on his constancy. then sat down to write her mother Get any book for free on: www. satisfactory. In one moment her imagination placed before her a letter from Willoughby.Abika. went out alone for the rest of the morning. she withdrew." Marianne heard enough. and. never till then unwelcome. my dear. the assurances of his letter. her mother was dearer to her than ever. With a letter in her outstretched hand. and instantly followed by Willoughby himself. till that instant. rushing eagerly into the room to inforce. offered no counsel of her own except of patience till their mother's wishes could be known. I bring you something that I am sure will do you good. was before her. All her impatience to be at home again now . at her feet.

"Who can this be?" cried Elinor.Abika. because I thought it probable that I might find you alone. My object--my wish--my sole wish in desiring it--I hope. for . and in his anxious though brief inquiry after her." said Elinor. while Marianne. by relating some circumstances which nothing but a VERY sincere regard--nothing but an earnest desire of being useful--I think I am justified--though where so many hours have been spent in convincing myself that I am right. was startled by a rap at the door. when Marianne. with vexation. "We are never safe from HIM. lasting conviction to your sister's mind. and who saw THAT solicitude in his disturbed and melancholy look. after the first salutation. for your mother--will you allow me to prove it. and HERS must be gained by it in time. grieving over her for the hardship of such a task." The event proved her conjecture right. "You have something to tell me of Mr." Marianne moved to the window-"It is Colonel Brandon!" said she. pray let me hear it. for Colonel Brandon DID come in. and I was the more easily encouraged. watching the advancement of her pen. "I understand you." said he." "I will not trust to THAT. I must not say comfort--not present comfort--but conviction. My regard for her. and entreat her directions for the future. Willoughby. thought we HAD been safe. "and she encouraged me to come on. whose nerves could not then bear any sudden noise. Your telling it will be the greatest act of friendship that can be shewn Marianne. MY gratitude will be insured immediately by any information tending to that end. is there not some reason to fear I may be wrong?" He stopped. as Mrs.--no. Jennings is from home. could not forgive her sister for esteeming him so lightly. "I met Mrs. Jennings in Bond Street. though it was founded on injustice and error. remained fixed at the table where Elinor wrote. and Elinor." retreating to her own room. I believe it is--is to be a means of giving comfort. who came into the drawing-room on Mrs. Pray." "So early too! I Get any book for free on: www. who was convinced that solicitude for Marianne brought him thither. "A man who has nothing to do with his own time has no conscience in his intrusion on that of others. In this manner they had continued about a quarter of an hour.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 139 an account of what had passed. and grieving still more fondly over its effect on her mother. which I was very desirous of doing." "He will not come in. that will open his character farther. Jennings's going away.

The treachery. Her fortune was large. and though she had promised me that nothing--but how blindly I relate! I have never told you how this was brought on. or the folly. and our family estate much encumbered. as perhaps. as we grew up. My brother had no regard for her. and from our earliest years we were playfellows and friends. "If I am not deceived by the uncertainty. and she was allowed no liberty. and my affection for her. "I have NOT forgotten . Miss Dashwood. of my cousin's maid betrayed us. who was at once her uncle and guardian. I fear. an orphan from her infancy. will be necessary. I was banished to the house of a relation far distant. for she experienced great unkindness. there is a very strong resemblance between them.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 140 "You shall. when I quitted Barton last October. And this. went on. "You have probably entirely forgotten a conversation-(it is not to be supposed that it could make any impression on you)--a conversation between us one evening at Barton Park--it was the evening of a dance--in which I alluded to a lady I had once known. was such. overcame all her resolution. She was married--married against her inclination to my brother. I believe. is all that can be said for the conduct of one. to be brief. you might think me incapable of having ever felt. no amusement.Abika. a few months must have reconciled me to it." answered Elinor. You will find me a very awkward narrator. I believe. he did not even love her. and added. Get any book for free on: www. with another sigh. Her's. Willoughby and it was. though from a different cause. judging from my present forlorn and cheerless gravity. I hardly know where to begin. A short account of myself. and under the guardianship of my father." sighing heavily. This lady was one of my nearest relations. fervent as the attachment of your sister to Mr. as well in mind as person. and the blow was a severe one-but had her marriage been happy. I had depended on her fortitude too far. I had hoped that her regard for me would support her under any difficulty." He stopt a moment for recollection. and it SHALL be a short one. no less unfortunate. as resembling. At seventeen she was lost to me for ever." He looked pleased by this remembrance. "can I have little temptation to be diffuse. or at least I should not have now to lament it.--but this will give you no idea--I must go farther back. the same eagerness of fancy and spirits. no society. The same warmth of heart. This however was not the case. We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland. but at last the misery of her situation. My brother did not deserve her. your sister Marianne. and. for me. so young as I then was. in some measure. On such a subject." "Indeed. the partiality of tender recollection. till my father's point was gained. Our ages were nearly the same. and then. was. and for some time it did. I cannot remember the time when I did not love Eliza.

and I was with my regiment in the East Indies) she should fall? Had I remained in England. and kissed it with grateful respect. nor sufficient for her comfortable maintenance.Abika." he continued. Regard for a former servant of my own. to all appearance. with such a husband to provoke inconstancy. But can we wonder that. was but too natural. and from the first he treated her unkindly. blooming. of her divorce. "was of trifling weight--was nothing to what I felt when I heard. but the search was as fruitless as it was melancholy. and coming to her. healthful girl. "It was nearly three years after this unhappy period before I returned to England. carried me to visit him in a spunging-house. I DID find her. and rising hastily walked for a few minutes about the room. That she was. in such a situation it was my greatest comfort. under a similar confinement. Get any book for free on: www. in a voice of great agitation. perhaps--but I meant to promote the happiness of both by removing from her for years. It was THAT which threw this gloom. The shock which her marriage had given me. that her extravagance. and after I had been six months in England. My first care. and happy had it been if she had not lived to overcome those regrets which the remembrance of me occasioned. when I DID arrive. affected by his relation. about two years afterwards. to be the remains of the lovely. so inexperienced as Mrs. At last. pressed it. and without a friend to advise or restrain her (for my father lived only a few months after their marriage. and there. and there was every reason to fear that she had removed from him only to sink deeper in a life of sin. was--yes. Her legal allowance was not adequate to her fortune. had obliged her to dispose of it for some immediate relief. I could not trace her beyond her first seducer. who had since fallen into misfortune. in the last stage of a consumption. Life could do nothing for her.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 141 his pleasures were not what they ought to have been. and I learnt from my brother that the power of receiving it had been made over some months before to another person. and for that purpose had procured my . so lively. on whom I had once doted. however. where he was confined for debt. and still more by his distress.--even now the recollection of what I suffered--" He could say no more. and consequent distress. the same house. He imagined. He saw her concern. upon a mind so young. was of course to seek for her. Elinor. was my unfortunate sister. So altered--so faded--worn down by acute suffering of every kind! hardly could I believe the melancholy and sickly figure before me. The consequence of this. could not speak. A few minutes more of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure. beyond giving time for a better preparation for death. She resigned herself at first to all the misery of her situation. What I endured in so beholding her--but I have no right to wound your feelings by attempting to describe it--I have pained you too much already. and calmly could he imagine it. took her hand. Brandon's.

give no information. as thoroughly as he was convinced himself. residing in Dorsetshire. and which left to me the possession of the family property. and under proper attendants. to go to Bath with one of her young friends. and Elinor spoke her feelings in an exclamation of tender concern. "Your sister. could really. I visited her every day during the rest of her short life: I was with her in her last moments. for eight long months. I had allowed her. a little girl. at the fate of his unfortunate friend. I saw her there whenever I could. though she certainly knew all.Abika. would give no clue. I believe. She loved the child. as it has since turned out. Get any book for free on: www. all the rest. But to what does all this lead? I seem to have been distressing you for nothing. I saw her placed in comfortable lodgings. She left to my care her only child. (which happened about five years ago. by watching over her education myself. was left to conjecture. while the girls were ranging over the town and making what acquaintance they chose. It was a valued. her father." said he. and he tried to convince me. who had the charge of four or five other girls of about the same time of life. with a most obstinate and ill-judged secrecy. but I am well aware that I have in general been suspected of a much nearer connection with her. cannot be the same. but not a quick-sighted man. Their fates. their fortunes. but I had no family. no home. I could learn nothing but that she was gone. and after the death of my brother. cannot be offended. to place her under the care of a very respectable woman. and I thought well of his daughter--better than she deserved. "by the resemblance I have fancied between her and my poor disgraced relation. a well-meaning. I called her a distant relation. had the nature of our situations allowed it.) that I removed her from school. Ah! Miss Dashwood--a subject such as this--untouched for fourteen years--it is dangerous to handle it at all! I WILL be more collected--more concise. and had always kept it with her.) at her earnest desire. or a happier marriage. she would tell nothing. the offspring of her first guilty connection. for he had been generally confined to the house. a precious trust to me.) she visited me at Delaford. for. of his daughter's being entirely unconcerned in the business. who was then about three years old. I knew him to be a very good sort of . she might have been all that you will live to see the other be. and for two years I had every reason to be pleased with her situation. and had the natural sweet disposition of the one been guarded by a firmer mind. she suddenly disappeared. and my little Eliza was therefore placed at school. (imprudently. But last February. almost a twelvemonth back. and gladly would I have discharged it in the strictest sense. I hope. who was attending her father there for his health. He. In short." Again he stopped to recover himself.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 142 and that was given. It is now three years ago (she had just reached her fourteenth year.

He had left the girl whose youth and innocence he had seduced. and with a mind tormented by self-reproach. what I feared." he continued. and hereafter doubtless WILL turn with gratitude towards her own condition. still as strong as her own. It was forwarded to me from Delaford. who can tell what were his designs on her. he had already done that. Little did Mr. "came in a letter from herself.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 143 What I thought. When I came to you last week and found you alone. but HAD he known it." "Good heavens!" cried Elinor. To suffer you all to be so . and this was the reason of my leaving Barton so suddenly. and what I suffered too. Concern for her unhappiness. On the contrary. he neither returned. must strengthen Get any book for free on: www. no help. and can bring no disgrace. guess what I must have felt on seeing your sister as fond of him as ever. She will feel her own sufferings to be nothing. every friend must be made still more her friend by them. though irresolute what to do when it WAS known. after such dishonorable usage. and I received it on the very morning of our intended party to Whitwell. ignorant of his address! He had left her. I suppose. Knowing all this. she may now. with no creditable home. "His character is now before you. that I was called away to the relief of one whom he had made poor and miserable. however. last October. and pictures her to herself." "This is beyond every thing!" exclaimed Elinor. nor relieved her. no friends. But now. which must attend her through life. with an affection for him so strong. to see your sister--but what could I do? I had no hope of interfering with success.Abika. My behaviour must have seemed strange to you then. and worse than both. promising to return. dissipated. and on being assured that she was to marry him: guess what I must have felt for all your sakes. and which I believe gave offence to some. expensive. when she compares it with that of my poor Eliza. Willoughby imagine. They proceed from no misconduct. which no man who CAN feel for another would do. which I am sure must at the time have appeared strange to every body. Whatever they may have been. when his looks censured me for incivility in breaking up the party. in a situation of the utmost distress. but now you will comprehend it. may be imagined. as I have now known it many weeks. when she considers the wretched and hopeless situation of this poor girl. what would it have availed? Would he have been less gay or less happy in the smiles of your sister? No. nor wrote. and respect for her fortitude under it. and sometimes I thought your sister's influence might yet reclaim him. Surely this comparison must have its use with her. "could it be--could Willoughby!"-"The first news that reached me of her. I came determined to know the truth.

startled by his manner." One meeting Elinor. "What? have you met him to--" "I could meet him no other way. though most reluctantly. I am sure she will soon become easier. from the communication of what had passed. I to punish his conduct. therefore. but had I not seriously. after a pause. Willoughby since you left him at Barton?" "Yes. he put an end to his visit. receiving from her again the same grateful acknowledgments. "by her endeavors to acquit him than by all the rest." Elinor sighed over the fancied necessity of this. and when he returned to town. and leaving her full of compassion and esteem for him. "once I have. might lessen her regrets. the name of her lover. after a short silence. however. Have you. Eliza had confessed to me. soon afterwards. looked at him . "I have been more pained. I removed her and her child into the country. in communicating to her what I have told you." she continued. was unavoidable." Elinor's thanks followed this speech with grateful earnestness. "ever seen Mr. we met by appointment. and there she remains." Recollecting. We returned unwounded. though at first she will suffer much. but to a man and a soldier she presumed not to censure it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 144 every attachment. for it irritates her mind more than the most perfect conviction of his unworthiness can do. "Such. never got abroad." said she. with a recital which may seem to have been intended to raise myself at the expense of others. saying." said Colonel Brandon. that he was probably dividing Elinor from her sister. Get any book for free on: www. Use your own discretion. which was within a fortnight after myself. Now. as soon as she recovered from her lying-in. he to defend. for I found her near her delivery. You must know best what will be its effect. attended too with the assurance of her expecting material advantage to Marianne. "has been the unhappy resemblance between the fate of mother and daughter! and so imperfectly have I discharged my trust!" "Is she still in town?" "No." he replied gravely. and the meeting. I would not have suffered myself to trouble you with this account of my family afflictions. and from my heart believed it might be of service.Abika.

the effect on her was not entirely such as the former had hoped to see. where every thing within her view would be bringing back the past in the strongest and most afflicting manner. his seduction and desertion of Miss Williams. of a disappointment hardly less painful than Marianne's. Get any book for free on: www. she hoped. arrived to tell all that she suffered and . brooding over her sorrows in silence. the length of which. but it was settled in a gloomy dejection. for she listened to it all with the most steady and submissive attention. She felt the loss of Willoughby's character yet more heavily than she had felt the loss of his heart. and might yet. Mrs. Not that Marianne appeared to distrust the truth of any part of it. Her mind did become settled. and though she saw her spirits less violently irritated than before. quickly succeeding each other. made neither objection nor remark. and seemed to shew by her tears that she felt it to be impossible. which could not be procured at Barton. She recommended it to her daughters. though never exactly fixed. and. preyed altogether so much on her spirits. of objects. had been expected by all to comprise at least five or six weeks. But though this behaviour assured Elinor that the conviction of this guilt WAS carried home to her mind. which SHE could wish her not to indulge! Against the interest of her own individual comfort. than at Barton. Dashwood had determined that it would be better for Marianne to be any where. by all means not to shorten their visit to Mrs. she did not see her less wretched. the misery of that poor girl. as they very soon were. at that time. by constantly placing Willoughby before her. and an indignation even greater than Elinor's. that she could not bring herself to speak of what she felt even to Elinor. and of company. in her no longer avoiding Colonel Brandon when he called. in her speaking to him. Jennings. with a kind of compassionate respect. such as she had always seen him there. even voluntarily speaking. would be inevitable there. A variety of occupations. and entreat she would bear up with fortitude under this misfortune. attempted no vindication of Willoughby. though she saw with satisfaction the effect of it. to express her anxious solicitude for Marianne. therefore. when her mother could talk of fortitude! mortifying and humiliating must be the origin of those regrets. gave more pain to her sister than could have been communicated by the most open and most frequent confession of them. Long letters from her. Dashwood on receiving and answering Elinor's letter would be only to give a repetition of what her daughters had already felt and said.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 145 CHAPTER 32 When the particulars of this conversation were repeated by Miss Dashwood to her sister. Bad indeed must the nature of Marianne's affliction be. and the doubt of what his designs might ONCE have been on herself.Abika. To give the feelings or the language of Mrs.

Palmer herself. and she was obliged to listen day after day to the indignation of them all. suspecting that it would not be in her power to avoid Edward entirely. reaped all its advantage. formed on mistaken grounds.Abika. though she felt it to be entirely wrong. was not thrown . ever spoke of him before her. though it proved perfectly different from what she wished and expected. her mother considered her to be at least equally safe in town as in the country. and that by requiring her longer continuance in London it deprived her of the only possible alleviation of her wretchedness. Marianne. where it might force him before her while paying that visit at Allenham on his marriage. much as the ideas of both might now be spurned by her. that though their longer stay would therefore militate against her own happiness. Sir John. into some interest beyond herself. on the other hand. Dashwood. at times. that what brought evil to herself would bring good to her sister. Elinor wished that the same forbearance could have extended towards herself. nor Sir John.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 146 cheat Marianne. He would not speak another word to him. Jennings. But it was a matter of great consolation to her. She had yet another reason for wishing her children to remain where they were. Get any book for free on: www. it would be better for Marianne than an immediate return into Devonshire. from foreseeing at first as a probable event. and doomed her to such society and such scenes as must prevent her ever knowing a moment's rest. He wished him at the devil with all his heart. nor even Mrs. and chance had less in its favour in the crowd of London than even in the retirement of Barton. From all danger of seeing Willoughby again. and Elinor. a letter from her son-in-law had told her that he and his wife were to be in town before the middle of February. could not have thought it possible. which Mrs. but that was impossible. and she judged it right that they should sometimes see their brother. since his acquaintance must now be dropped by all who called themselves her friends. Design could never bring them in each other's way: negligence could never leave them exposed to a surprise. "A man of whom he had always had such reason to think well! Such a good-natured fellow! He did not believe there was a bolder rider in England! It was an unaccountable business. for neither Mrs. comforted herself by thinking. Her carefulness in guarding her sister from ever hearing Willoughby's name mentioned. though without knowing it herself. meet him where he might. had brought herself to expect as a certain one. the personal sympathy of her mother. and she submitted to it therefore without opposition. Marianne had promised to be guided by her mother's opinion. and even into some amusement.

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 147 for all the world! No. and therefore determined (though rather against the opinion of Sir John) that as Mrs. or twice. and at what warehouse Miss Grey's clothes might be seen. and spoken her decided censure of what was wrong in the other. indeed!" and by the means of this continual though gentle vent. and having thus supported the dignity of her own . how good-for-nothing he was. Colonel Brandon's delicate. He had abundantly earned the privilege of intimate discussion of her Get any book for free on: www. if the subject occurred very often. to more than its real value. but it did not signify. and she should tell everybody she saw. by the circumstances of the moment. for it was a great deal too far off to visit. was able not only to see the Miss Dashwoods from the first without the smallest emotion. but very soon to see them without recollecting a word of the matter. by saying. She could soon tell at what coachmaker's the new carriage was building. and she was sometimes worried down by officious condolence to rate good-breeding as more indispensable to comfort than good-nature. she thought herself at liberty to attend to the interest of her own assemblies. It was a great comfort to her to be sure of exciting no interest in ONE person at least among their circle of friends: a great comfort to know that there was ONE who would meet her without feeling any curiosity after particulars. not if it were to be by the side of Barton covert. by what painter Mr. and communicating them to Elinor. Willoughby's portrait was drawn. and she was very thankful that she had never been acquainted with him at all. to leave her card with her as soon as she married. or any anxiety for her sister's health. Every qualification is raised at times. She wished with all her heart Combe Magna was not so near Cleveland. "It is very shocking." The rest of Mrs. she hated him so much that she was resolved never to mention his name again. Palmer's sympathy was shewn in procuring all the particulars in her power of the approaching marriage. and they were kept watching for two hours together. "She was determined to drop his acquaintance immediately. Willoughby would at once be a woman of elegance and fortune. in her way. was equally angry. unobtrusive enquiries were never unwelcome to Miss Dashwood. oppressed as they often were by the clamorous kindness of the others. Palmer. The calm and polite unconcern of Lady Middleton on the occasion was a happy relief to Elinor's spirits. Lady Middleton expressed her sense of the affair about once every day. Such a scoundrel of a fellow! such a deceitful dog! It was only the last time they met that he had offered him one of Folly's puppies! and this was the end of it!" Mrs.Abika.

for some time ceased to think at all of Mrs. Early in February. to think that. His chief reward for the painful exertion of disclosing past sorrows and present humiliations. instead of Midsummer. as soon as it was known that the ceremony was over. at the end of two . as she was desirous that Marianne should not receive the first notice of it from the public papers. "I should have been quite disappointed if I had not Get any book for free on: www.Abika. The good understanding between the Colonel and Miss Dashwood seemed rather to declare that the honours of the mulberry-tree. THESE assured him that his exertion had produced an increase of good-will towards himself. who knew only that the Colonel continued as grave as ever.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 148 sister's disappointment. would all be made over to HER. and for the rest of the day. to prevail on her sister. and the gentleness of her voice whenever (though it did not often happen) she was obliged. presented themselves again before their more grand relations in Conduit and Berkeley Streets. Elinor had the painful office of informing her sister that he was married. and Mrs. who had never yet left the house since the blow first fell. but after a short time they would burst out. Holburn. and the yew arbour. and THESE gave Elinor hopes of its being farther augmented hereafter. and she hardly knew how to make a very gracious return to the overpowering delight of Lucy in finding her STILL in town. She had taken care to have the intelligence conveyed to herself. She received the news with resolute composure. was given in the pitying eye with which Marianne sometimes observed him. and were welcomed by them all with great cordiality. Ferrars. who knew nothing of all this. Elinor only was sorry to see them. as there could be no danger of her seeing either of them. and Elinor now hoped. she was in a state hardly less pitiable than when she first learnt to expect the event. Jennings had. began. by the friendly zeal with which he had endeavoured to soften it. lately arrived at their cousin's house in Bartlett's Buildings. made no observation on it. which she saw her eagerly examining every morning. Jennings. About this time the two Miss Steeles. the canal. and at first shed no tears. to go out again by degrees as she had done before. within a fortnight from the receipt of Willoughby's letter. and that she could neither prevail on him to make the offer himself. but Mrs. they would not be married till Michaelmas. nor commission her to make it for him. and they always conversed with confidence. or could oblige herself to speak to him. Their presence always gave her pain. and by the end of a week that it would not be a match at all. The Willoughbys left town as soon as they were married.

The Doctor is no beau of mine. with affected earnestness. and Miss Steele was made completely happy." "No. with a strong emphasis on the word. and he behaved very genteelly. indeed! said I--I cannot think who you mean." Elinor perfectly understood her. and so we thought we'd join him in a post-chaise. my dear. And now to be sure you will be in no hurry to be gone." "There now. and paid ten or twelve shillings more than we did. affectedly simpering. that is very pretty talking--but it won't do-the Doctor is the man. 'Lord! here comes your beau. "Well. you know." said Lucy." "Aye. Nancy. I dare say you will. when they come to town. that you would most likely change your mind when it came to the point." "Oh.' my cousin said t'other day. My beau. Jennings. if you ever hear it talked of. at the time. aye. and had a very smart beau to attend us. Davies was coming to town. though you TOLD me. I do not think we shall. "we came post all the way. I was almost sure you would not leave London yet awhile. Miss Dashwood. but for my part I declare I never think about him from one hour's end to another. that you should not stay above a MONTH. when she saw him crossing the street to the house.Abika." Mrs." said Miss Steele." replied Miss Steele. My cousins say they are sure I have made a conquest. indeed! and the Doctor is a single man. "everybody laughs at me so about the Doctor. But I thought. Jennings directly gave her the gratifying assurance that she certainly would NOT. indeed!" replied her cousin. "But I always thought I SHOULD. "very pretty. Jennings. Dr. I assure you.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 149 found you here STILL. and I cannot think why. and was forced to use all her self-command to make it appear that she did NOT. "and I beg you will contradict it. to the charge. with quick exultation." "Oh. yes. "I suppose you will go and stay with your brother and sister. oh!" cried Mrs." Get any book for free on: www. I warrant you. It would have been such a great pity to have went away before your brother and sister came. I see. I am amazingly glad you did not keep to YOUR WORD. at Barton." said Mrs. " . "and how did you travel?" "Not in the stage. returning. after a cessation of hostile hints." said she repeatedly.

Mrs. "I am sorry we cannot see your sister. declined the proposal." said Miss Steele. "I am sorry she is not well--" for Marianne had left the room on their arrival. or in her dressing gown. "we can just as well go and see HER. . as on many occasions. When they stopped at the door. by Lucy's sharp reprimand. "What a charming thing it is that Mrs." cried Miss Steele. Jennings. but she has been very much plagued lately with nervous head-aches. Marianne yielded to her sister's entreaties. where Elinor was carrying on a negotiation for the exchange of a few old-fashioned jewels of her mother. Jennings one morning for half an hour. however. though it did not give much sweetness to the manners of one sister. "Oh. with great civility. but she was saved the trouble of checking it. "Why. Get any book for free on: www. CHAPTER 33 After some opposition. and as she had no business at Gray's. Jennings recollected that there was a lady at the other end of the street on whom she ought to call. for paying no visits. Dashwood can spare you both for so long a time together!" "Long a time. and I am sure we would not speak a word. which make her unfit for company or conversation. their visit is but just begun!" Lucy was silenced. indeed!" interposed Mrs. Miss Dashwood. that is a great pity! but such old friends as Lucy and me!--I think she might see US. and would do no more than accompany them to Gray's in Sackville Street. it was resolved.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 150 Elinor would not humour her by farther opposition. if that's all. which now. that while her young friends transacted their's. and consented to go out with her and Mrs. She expressly conditioned. and therefore not able to come to them.Abika." Elinor. was of advantage in governing those of the other. Her sister was perhaps laid down upon the bed. she should pay her visit and return for them. "You are very good. My sister will be equally sorry to miss the pleasure of seeing you." Elinor began to find this impertinence too much for her temper." "Oh.

and bestowing another glance on the Miss Dashwoods. he had no leisure to bestow any other attention on the two ladies. He was giving orders for a toothpick-case for himself. . and be as ignorant of what was passing around her. a kind of notice which served to imprint on Elinor the remembrance of a person and face. and ornaments were determined." said he. and till its size. when another gentleman presented himself at her side. all received their appointment. John Dashwood was really far from being sorry to see his sisters again. "but it was impossible. on this impertinent examination of their features. But the correctness of his eye. than what was comprised in three or four very broad stares. for she was as well able to collect her thoughts within herself. Elinor found that he and Fanny had been in town two days. the Miss Dashwoods found so many people before them in the room. and they were obliged to wait. and found him with some surprise to be her brother. of strong.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 151 On ascending the stairs. and his inquiries after their mother were respectful and attentive. and on the puppyism of his manner in deciding on all the different horrors of the different toothpick-cases presented to his inspection. though adorned in the first style of fashion. Elinor lost no time in bringing her business forward. in Mr. and the pearls. She turned her eyes towards his face. and the gentleman having named the last day on which his existence could be continued without the possession of the toothpick-case. Their affection and pleasure in meeting was just enough to make a very creditable appearance in Mr.Abika. for we were obliged Get any book for free on: www. after examining and debating for a quarter of an hour over every toothpick-case in the shop. All that could be done was. Gray's shop. Marianne was spared from the troublesome feelings of contempt and resentment. by remaining unconscious of it all. and it is probable that Elinor was not without hope of exciting his politeness to a quicker despatch. and the delicacy of his taste. but such a one as seemed rather to demand than express admiration. one gentleman only was standing there. sterling insignificance. Gray's shop. as in her own bedroom. were finally arranged by his own inventive fancy. At last the affair was decided. it rather gave them satisfaction. the gold. proved to be beyond his politeness. was on the point of concluding it. drew on his gloves with leisurely care. walked off with a happy air of real conceit and affected indifference. shape. to sit down at that end of the counter which seemed to promise the quickest succession. "I wished very much to call upon you yesterday. that there was not a person at liberty to tend to their orders. all of which. The ivory.

And so you are most comfortably settled in your little cottage and want for nothing! Edward brought us a most charming account of the place: the most complete thing of its kind. assured him directly. they are people of large fortune. or something like .Abika. and she should certainly wait on Mrs. He came with a pretence at an apology from their sister-in-law. Mr. Jennings. Jennings. he said. And the Middletons too. I assure you. to be equally civil to HIM. however. he eyed him with a curiosity which seemed to say. Dashwood attended them down stairs. that she should not stand upon ceremony. you must introduce me to THEM. and every civility and accommodation that can serve to make your situation pleasant might be reasonably expected. that really she had no leisure for going any where. upon my word. for not coming too. As my mother-in-law's relations. for they were all cousins. he asked Elinor to walk with him to Conduit Street. but one has always so much to do on first coming to town. and you all seemed to enjoy it beyond any thing. and was not sorry to be spared the necessity of answering him. But so it ought to be. that ever was. and on Colonel Brandon's coming in soon after himself. THIS morning I had fully intended to call on you. Their attention to our comfort. Harry was vastly pleased. most attentively civil. It was a great satisfaction to us to hear it. and we spent the rest of the day with Mrs. I am come here to bespeak Fanny a seal. Jennings at the door of her carriage." "Excellent indeed. and introduce him to Sir John and Lady Middleton. extremely glad indeed. But tomorrow I think I shall certainly be able to call in Berkeley Street. The weather was Get any book for free on: www. I understand she is a woman of very good fortune. was introduced to Mrs. Ferrars. they are related to you. were perfectly kind. and be introduced to your friend Mrs.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 152 to take Harry to see the wild beasts at Exeter Exchange." "I am extremely glad to hear it. though calm. They are excellent neighbours to you in the country. by the arrival of Mrs. Jennings." Mrs. their friendliness in every particular. and bring her sisters to see her." Elinor did feel a little ashamed of her brother. John Dashwood very soon. who came to tell her that his mistress waited for them at the door. His manners to THEM. After staying with them half an hour. I understand. and repeating his hope of being able to call on them the next day. is more than I can express. that he only wanted to know him to be rich. Jennings's servant. took leave. "but she was so much engaged with her mother. I shall be happy to show them every respect. to Mrs. if I could possibly find a spare half hour. His visit was duly paid.

" replied Elinor. In short. "Elinor. the objections are insurmountable-you have too much sense not to see all that. for your sake. and she readily consented. "Who is Colonel Brandon? Is he a man of fortune?" "Yes. "but I am very sure that Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish of marrying ME. But some of those little attentions and encouragements which ladies can so easily give will fix him. and am convinced of it." "You are mistaken. it is quite out of the question." "Two thousand a-year. "That is. And there can be no reason why you should not try for him. And her mother too. he has very good property in Dorsetshire. I mean to say--your friends are all truly anxious to see you well settled." "Me. in spite of himself. now. a very good-natured woman. I may congratulate you on the prospect of a very respectable establishment in life." Recollecting himself. And yet it is not Get any book for free on: www. A very little trouble on your side secures him. Elinor." "I am glad of it. I observed him narrowly. if Fanny should have a brother and I a sister settling at the same time." Elinor would not vouchsafe any answer. you are very much mistaken. the smallness of your fortune may make him hang back. and no civility shall be wanting on my part to make him pleased with you and your family. What is the amount of his fortune?" "I believe about two thousand a year. he added. "It would be something remarkable. Elinor." and then working himself up to a pitch of enthusiastic generosity. Colonel Brandon must be the man. I wish with all my heart it were TWICE as much. I assure you. and I think. ." he continued. for she has your interest very much at heart. I am sure it would give her great pleasure. Mrs. "something droll. his friends may all advise him against it. He seems a most gentlemanlike man. Perhaps just at present he may be undecided. It is not to be supposed that any prior attachment on your side--in short. It is a match that must give universal satisfaction. he added. you know as to an attachment of that kind. she said as much the other day. As soon as they were out of the house.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 153 remarkably fine. brother! what do you mean?" "He likes you. his enquiries began." "Indeed I believe you. however. Fanny particularly.Abika. it is a kind of thing that"--lowering his voice to an important whisper--"will be exceedingly welcome to ALL PARTIES.

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 154 very unlikely. that I felt it my duty to buy it." "Why. with regard to the purchase-money. but your income is a large one. and settle on him a thousand a . A thousand a-year is a great deal for a mother to give away. for more than I gave: but." "More than you think it really and intrinsically worth. as soon as we came to town. with the utmost liberality. Ferrars. is a most serious drain. now carrying on. I must have sold out to very great loss. and it HAS cost me a vast deal of money." He paused for her assent and compassion. The enclosure of Norland Common. only daughter of the late Lord Morton. however." "Is Mr. He has a most excellent mother. The land was so very desirable for me in every respect. I do not mean to complain. "Your expenses both in town and country must certainly be considerable. if the match takes place. I might have been very unfortunate indeed. I might have sold it again. Mrs. Miss Morton. but Mrs. Edward Ferrars. with thirty thousand pounds. Ferrars has a noble spirit. The lady is the Hon. she put bank-notes into Fanny's hands to the amount of two hundred pounds. it is undoubtedly a comfortable one. for the stocks were at that time so low. I could not have answered it to my conscience to let it fall into any other hands. And then I have made a little purchase within this half year. with resolution. And extremely acceptable it is. I hope not that. A very desirable connection on both sides." Elinor could only smile. and she forced herself to say.Abika. bequeathed all the Stanhill effects that remained at Norland (and very valuable they were) Get any book for free on: www. but there is such a thing in agitation. for we must live at a great expense while we are here. Our respected father. to make over for ever. East Kingham Farm. as many people suppose." said Elinor. A man must pay for his convenience." "Not so large. "going to be married?" "It is not actually settled. I dare say. so immediately adjoining my own property. and I have not a doubt of its taking place in time. the next day. To give you another instance of her liberality:--The other day. you must remember the place. aware that money could not be very plenty with us just now. "Other great and inevitable expenses too we have had on first coming to Norland. where old Gibson used to live. that if I had not happened to have the necessary sum in my banker's hands. will come forward. as you well know. and I hope will in time be better.

and indeed." there is still a great stone laid of Fanny's plan of the flower-garden "Where is the green-house to be?" "Upon the knoll behind the house." "But it is not to be imagined that she lives up to her income. it speaks altogether so great a regard for you. we have been obliged to make large purchases of linen." "And do you not think it more likely that she should leave it to her daughters. to share the provocation. Ferrars's kindness is.-She must have a great deal to leave. in his next visit at Gray's his thoughts took a cheerfuller turn. for she has only her jointure. all bespeak an exceeding good income. and the flower-garden will slope down just before it. she will be able to dispose of. "and assisted by her liberality. to supply the place of what was taken away. after all these expenses. We have cleared away all the old thorns that grew in patches over the brow. I hope you may yet live to be in easy circumstances." said Elinor. Jennings.Abika. "but however deal to be done. but. than to us?" Get any book for free on: www. I should rather suppose. and was very thankful that Marianne was not present. he had an undoubted right to dispose of his own property as he chose. china. and it is an acquaintance that has not only been of great use to you hitherto. and how acceptable Mrs. "She seems a most valuable woman indeed--Her house. which will descend to her children. in consequence of it. Having now said enough to make his poverty clear. You may guess." "Nothing at all." "Another year or two may do he gravely replied. and he began to congratulate Elinor on having such a friend as Mrs. and to do away the necessity of buying a pair of ear-rings for each of his sisters. The old walnut trees are all come down to make room for it." "Certainly." Elinor kept her concern and her censure to herself. and nothing but the marked out." much towards it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 155 to your mother. Far be it from me to repine at his doing so.--Her inviting you to town is certainly a vast thing in your favour. There is not a green-house. It will be a very fine object from many parts of the park. how very far we must be from being rich. and whatever she saves. Few people of common prudence will do THAT. her style of . but in the end may prove materially advantageous. and be exceedingly pretty. that in all probability when she dies you will not be forgotten. &c.

she has given you a sort of claim on her future consideration. have very little in their power. which a conscientious woman would not disregard. and is grown quite thin. I question whether Marianne NOW." "But she raises none in those most concerned. Is she ill?" "She is not well." "I am sorry for that. but so it happened to strike her. and Sir John came in before their visit ended. by her taking so much notice of you. and he was really resolved on seeking an intimacy with that gentleman. Sir John was ready to like anybody. in my opinion. Whereas. Dorsetshire! I know very little of Dorsetshire. to be sure. however. will marry a man worth more than five or six hundred a-year. and as likely to attract the man. but. was the easiest means of atoning for his own neglect. has lost her colour. I remember Fanny used to say that she would marry sooner and better than you did. "people have little. At her time of life. I shall be exceedingly glad to know more of it." Elinor tried very seriously to convince him that there was no likelihood of her marrying Colonel Brandon. and promoting the marriage by every possible attention. any thing of an illness destroys the bloom for ever! Her's has been a very short one! She was as handsome a girl last September. and an offer from Colonel Brandon. Indeed. he soon set him Get any book for free on: www. and though Mr. at the utmost. she has had a nervous complaint on her for several weeks. to please them particularly. Dashwood did not seem to know much about horses. Abundance of civilities passed on all sides. your anxiety for our welfare and prosperity carries you too far. my dear Elinor. what is the matter with Marianne?-she looks very unwell. my dear .Abika. or a legacy from Mrs. He had just compunction enough for having done nothing for his sisters himself. as I ever saw." "Why. Nothing can be kinder than her behaviour. and treating you in this kind of way. brother." said he. There was something in her style of beauty. She will be mistaken. and therefore I cannot perceive the necessity of her remembering them farther. They were lucky enough to find Lady Middleton at home. and I am very much deceived if YOU do not do better. Jennings. not but what she is exceedingly fond of YOU. to be exceedingly anxious that everybody else should do a great deal.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 156 "Her daughters are both exceedingly well married. but it was an expectation of too much pleasure to himself to be relinquished. seeming to recollect himself. and I think I can answer for your having Fanny and myself among the earliest and best pleased of your visitors. But. and she can hardly do all this. without being aware of the expectation it raises.

an exceedingly well-behaved woman. which. as he walked back with his sister.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 157 down as a very good-natured fellow: while Lady Middleton saw enough of fashion in his appearance to think his acquaintance worth having. and as for Lady Middleton. till able to tell her that his marriage with Miss Morton was resolved on. Get any book for free on: www. she found her one of the most charming women in the world! Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. "I shall have a charming account to carry to Fanny. Elinor wanted very much to know. Ferrars were both strongly prepossessed. and her confidence was rewarded by finding even the former. Dashwood went away delighted with both. though she did not chuse to ask. John Dashwood had so much confidence in her husband's judgment. and almost without having anything to say to them. that neither she nor her daughters were such kind of women as Fanny would like to associate with. Jennings too. however. or till her husband's expectations on Colonel Brandon were answered. because she believed them still so very much attached to each other. has been a little the case. There was a kind of cold hearted selfishness on both sides. and Mr. for of the quarter of an hour bestowed on Berkeley Street. whether Edward was then in town. which mutually attracted them. that she waited the very next day both on Mrs. and very naturally. and they sympathised with each other in an insipid propriety of demeanor. And Mrs." CHAPTER 34 Mrs. she sat at least seven minutes and a half in silence. Dashwood." said he. Jennings. by no means unworthy her notice. and Fanny and . and a general want of understanding. John Dashwood to the good opinion of Lady Middleton did not suit the fancy of Mrs. to say the truth. Jennings and her daughter.Abika. "Lady Middleton is really a most elegant woman! Such a woman as I am sure Fanny will be glad to know. But now I can carry her a most satisfactory account of both. but nothing would have induced Fanny voluntarily to mention his name before her. for we only knew that Mrs. which recommended Mrs. and to HER she appeared nothing more than a little proud-looking woman of uncordial address. that they could not be too sedulously divided in word and deed on every occasion. who met her husband's sisters without any affection. though not so elegant as her daughter. Your sister need not have any scruple even of visiting HER. The same manners. even the woman with whom her sisters were staying. Jennings was the widow of a man who had got all his money in a low way.

by twice calling in Berkeley Street. by her hearing that the Miss Steeles were also to be at it. might not have done much. that their visit should begin a few days before the party took place. within a very short time. though he had arrived in town with Mr. who had long wanted to be personally known to the family. Elinor was pleased that he had called. The Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted with the Middletons. as the nieces of the gentleman who for many years had had the care of her brother.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 158 The intelligence however. Jennings were invited likewise. was soon afterwards increased. and soon after their acquaintance began. where they had taken a very good house for three months. and Lucy. and it happened to be particularly convenient to the Miss Steeles. Edward assured them himself of his being in town. Ferrars. but much more pleasure. always glad to be where the Miss Dashwoods were. was not to be told. The interest with which she thus anticipated the party. but Elinor could not learn whether her sons were to be of the . her desire of being in company with Mrs. who. Their claims to the notice of Mrs.Abika. Dashwood. which SHE would not give. invited them to dine in Harley Street. He dared not come to Bartlett's Buildings for fear of detection. They were to meet Mrs. though she could now see her with perfect indifference as to her opinion of herself. her curiosity to know what she was like. however. The expectation of seeing HER. soon flowed from another quarter. they could do nothing at present but write. as soon as the Dashwoods' invitation was known. they determined to give them-a dinner. that. and John Dashwood was careful to secure Colonel Brandon. So well had they recommended themselves to Lady Middleton. she was as ready as Sir John to ask them to spend a week or two in Conduit Street. John Dashwood. Get any book for free on: www. towards procuring them seats at her table. was enough to make her interested in the engagement. and though their mutual impatience to meet. though not much in the habit of giving anything. when they returned from their morning's engagements. so agreeable had their assiduities made them to her. however. received his eager civilities with some surprise. Lucy came very shortly to claim Elinor's compassion on being unable to see Edward. more powerfully than pleasantly. was as lively as ever. Ferrars. and her sister not even genteel. but as Lady Middleton's guests they must be welcome. for though she could now meet Edward's mother without that strong anxiety which had once promised to attend such an introduction. and still more pleased that she had missed him. and Mrs. that though Lucy was certainly not so elegant. Their sisters and Mrs. Twice was his card found on the table.

thin woman. in her aspect. without beauty. after all that passed. whom they were about to behold. even to sourness. but it Get any book for free on: www. and certainly not at all on truth. that she did pity her--to the utter amazement of Lucy. rather than her own. Mrs. . Her complexion was sallow. and of the few syllables that did escape her. that can feel for me. and to have an opportunity of endeavouring to please them. by giving it the strong characters of pride and ill nature. she proportioned them to the number of her ideas. Ferrars was a little. even to formality. and her features small. but by the good will of Lucy. who. had seldom been happier in her life. in her figure. hoped at least to be an object of irrepressible envy to Elinor. must be asked as his mother was. which he could not conceal when they were together. unlike people in general. to a party given by his sister. not one fell to the share of Miss Dashwood. though really uncomfortable herself. and naturally without expression. that they all followed the servant at the same time--"There is nobody here but you. were not founded entirely on reason. she assured her. whom she eyed with the spirited determination of disliking her at all events. perhaps. They were relieved however. Jennings. Elinor could not NOW be made unhappy by this behaviour. than she was on receiving Mrs. that Edward who lived with his mother. but a lucky contraction of the brow had rescued her countenance from the disgrace of insipidity. and even hoped to be carrying the pain still farther by persuading her that he was kept away by the extreme affection for herself. She was not a woman of many words.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 159 to have a nearer view of their characters and her own difficulties. The important Tuesday came that was to introduce the two young ladies to this formidable mother-in-law.--I declare I can hardly stand. but instead of doing that. On Elinor its effect was very different.Abika. dear Miss Dashwood!" said Lucy. not by her own recollection. "Pity me. in the company of Lucy!--she hardly knew how she could bear it! These apprehensions.-A few months ago it would have hurt her exceedingly. Good gracious!--In a moment I shall see the person that all my happiness depends on--that is to be my mother!"-Elinor could have given her immediate relief by suggesting the possibility of its being Miss Morton's mother. and to see him for the first time. She began immediately to determine. who believed herself to be inflicting a severe disappointment when she told her that Edward certainly would not be in Harley Street on Tuesday. for. as they walked up the stairs together--for the Middletons arrived so directly after Mrs. and with great sincerity. and serious. John Dashwood's card.

this poverty was particularly evident. except of conversation. She could not but smile to see the graciousness of both mother and daughter towards the very person-for Lucy was particularly distinguished--whom of all others. but as Harry only was present. The parties stood thus: The two mothers. In spite of the improvements and additions which were making to the Norland estate. while she . John Dashwood had not much to say for himself that was worth hearing. But there was no peculiar disgrace in this. Lucy was all exultation on being so honorably distinguished. Davis to be perfectly happy. it was all conjectural assertion on both sides. and the Master's ability to support it. and his wife had still less. and Miss Steele wanted only to be teazed about Dr. for it was very much the case with the chief of their visitors. though each really convinced that Get any book for free on: www. The dinner was a grand one. who almost all laboured under one or other of these disqualifications for being agreeable--Want of sense. and one subject only engaged the ladies till coffee came in.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 160 was not in Mrs. appeared-but there. only amused her.Abika. and to repeat it over and over again as often as they liked.-and the difference of her manners to the Miss Steeles. without thoroughly despising them all four.-no poverty of any kind. which was the comparative heights of Harry Dashwood. either natural or improved--want of elegance--want of spirits--or want of temper. who had comparatively no power to wound them. a difference which seemed purposely made to humble her more. inclosing land. and breaking horses--but then it was all over. the deficiency was considerable. the affair might have been determined too easily by measuring them at once. and in spite of its owner having once been within some thousand pounds of being obliged to sell out at a loss. had they known as much as she did. and every body had a right to be equally positive in their opinion. who were nearly of the same age. she could not reflect on the mean-spirited folly from which it sprung. When the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room after dinner. and every thing bespoke the Mistress's inclination for show. Had both the children been there. Ferrars' power to distress her by it now. for the gentlemen HAD supplied the discourse with some variety--the variety of politics. But while she smiled at a graciousness so misapplied. nor observe the studied attentions with which the Miss Steeles courted its continuance. they would have been most anxious to mortify. and Lady Middleton's second son William. the servants were numerous. nothing gave any symptom of that indigence which he had tried to infer from it. sat pointedly slighted by both.

considerately informing her. at the same time. when called on for her's. colouring a little. having once delivered her opinion on William's side."--and without regarding them at all. who was hardly less anxious to please one parent than the other. and on the curiosity of the others being of course excited. by declaring that she had no opinion to give. and could not conceive that there could be the smallest difference in the world between them. Mrs. as she had never thought about it. and Marianne. as fast as she could. as a man of taste. warmly admired the screens. the dread of having been too civil. Elinor. Get any book for free on: www. she immediately said. Ferrars and Fanny still more. were equally earnest in support of their own . they were handed round for general inspection.Abika. but more sincerity. politely decided in favour of the other. ma'am--an't they?" But then again. and after they had received gratifying testimony of Lady Middletons's approbation. thought the boys were both remarkably tall for their age. and Miss Steele. with not less partiality.--for." The Colonel. Before her removing from Norland. did not see the necessity of enforcing it by any farther assertion.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 161 her own son was the tallest. Lucy. catching the eye of John Dashwood on his following the other gentlemen into the room. in favour of each. were officiously handed by him to Colonel Brandon for his admiration. "They are very pretty. Elinor had painted a very pretty pair of screens for her sister-in-law. by which she offended Mrs. I dare say. and these screens. Fanny presented them to her mother. Ferrars--"very pretty. too encouraging herself. particularly requested to look at them. ornamented her present drawing room. Perhaps Fanny thought for a moment that her mother had been quite rude enough. "These are done by my eldest sister. will. but she is in general reckoned to draw extremely well. returned them to her daughter. "and you. for she presently added. that they were done by Miss Dashwood. probably came over her. The two grandmothers. Ferrars. as he would have done any thing painted by Miss Dashwood. offended them all. with yet greater address gave it. not aware of their being Elinor's work. "Hum"--said Mrs. though disclaiming all pretensions to connoisseurship." said he. be pleased with them. I do not know whether you have ever happened to see any of her performances before. which being now just mounted and brought home.

"This is admiration of a very particular kind!-what is Miss Morton to us?--who knows." immediately gave her her salts. don't mind them. Mrs. and putting one arm round her neck. "Dear. in a whisper. The cold insolence of Mrs. to foretell such difficulties and distresses to Elinor. pronounced in retort this bitter philippic. "Miss Morton is Lord Morton's daughter. to her. and almost every body was concerned. as they were fixed on Marianne. her spirits were quite overcome. at Elinor's expense. and one cheek close to hers. seemed." Fanny looked very angry too. to her sister's chair. Jennings. make YOU unhappy. Get any book for free on: www. or who cares. dear Elinor. with a very intelligent "Ah! poor dear. she burst into tears. Ferrars's general behaviour to her sister. to admire them herself as they ought to be admired. that he instantly changed his seat to one close by Lucy Steele. though she had not any notion of what was principally meant by it. and drawing herself up more stiffly than ever. Every body's attention was . and urged by a strong impulse of affectionate sensibility. and gave her. and such ill-timed praise of another." Don't let them She could say no more. provoked her immediately to say with warmth.--Colonel Brandon rose up and went to them without knowing what he did.--Mrs. said in a low. but Colonel Brandon's eyes. a brief account of the whole shocking affair. but eager. voice. Ferrars looked exceedingly angry.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 162 "Do you not think they are something in Miss Morton's style of painting. and hiding her face on Elinor's shoulder. and Sir John felt so desperately enraged against the author of this nervous distress.--She was already greatly displeased with Mrs." Marianne could not bear this. the affectionate heart which could not bear to see a sister slighted in the smallest point. Ferrars.Abika. she moved after a moment. she took the screens out of her sister-in-law's hands. Ma'am?--She DOES paint most delightfully!--How beautifully her last landscape is done!" "Beautifully indeed! But SHE does every thing well. for her?--it is Elinor of whom WE think and speak. as her own wounded heart taught her to think of with horror. Elinor was much more hurt by Marianne's warmth than she had been by what produced it. Marianne's feelings did not stop here. and her husband was all in a fright at his sister's audacity." And so saying. declared that he noticed only what was amiable in it.

Jennings away. and retarded the marriage. Could anything be so flattering as Mrs. and her determined prejudice against herself. preserved her from all dependence upon her caprice. "I come to talk to you of my happiness. You would not think it perhaps. her meanness.-- Get any book for free on: www.Abika." cried Lucy." CHAPTER 35 Elinor's curiosity to see Mrs. Ferrars's creation.--that her interest and her vanity should so very much blind her as to make the attention which seemed only paid her because she was NOT ELINOR. as soon as he could secure his attention. But that it was so. Marianne was recovered enough to put an end to the bustle.--she has not Elinor's constitution. Ferrars was satisfied.-She had seen enough of her pride. Ferrars's way of treating me yesterday? So exceeding affable as she was!--You know how I dreaded the thoughts of seeing her. she OUGHT to have rejoiced. carried Mrs. Ferrars. "Poor Marianne!" said her brother to Colonel Brandon. "My dear friend. but was declared over again the next morning more openly.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 163 In a few minutes. for at her particular desire.--she is very nervous. had he been otherwise free. Lady Middleton set her down in Berkeley Street on the chance of seeing Elinor alone. Palmer soon after she arrived. as soon as they were by themselves. quite as handsome as Elinor. She wondered that Lucy's spirits could be so very much elevated by the civility of Mrs. that had Lucy been more amiable. but Marianne WAS remarkably handsome a few months ago. to comprehend all the difficulties that must have perplexed the engagement.--and one must allow that there is something very trying to a young woman who HAS BEEN a beauty in the loss of her personal attractions. and sit down among the rest. had not only been declared by Lucy's eyes at the time. that one greater obstacle preserved her from suffering under any other of Mrs. or any solicitude for her good opinion. if she did not bring herself quite to rejoice in Edward's being fettered to . for a message from Mrs. to tell her how happy she was. Or at least. The chance proved a lucky one.-She had found in her every thing that could tend to make a farther connection between the families undesirable.-Now you see it is all gone.-"She has not such good health as her sister. however. though her spirits retained the impression of what had passed. in a low voice. of Edward and herself. she determined.--and she had seen almost enough to be thankful for her OWN sake. because her real situation was unknown. the whole evening. appear a compliment to herself--or to allow her to derive encouragement from a preference only given her.

" "I am glad of it with all my heart. and her liking me is every thing. there was such an affability in her behaviour as really should seem to say. and so is your sister. she had quite took a fancy to me.--sure you an't well. "nothing could be more flattering than their treatment of you. I am sure it will all end well. and next to Edward's love. we shall be able to meet.--Poor Edward!--But now there is one good thing." "I never was in better health.-and . Ferrars should seem to like me. You shan't talk me out of my satisfaction. and was not you quite struck with it?" "She was certainly very civil to you. "Are you ill. and your sister just the same--all sweetness and affability!" Elinor wished to talk of something else. I dare say. and Edward spends half his time with his sister--besides. Ferrars will visit now. it is the greatest comfort I have.-"Undoubtedly." "Civil!--Did you see nothing but only civility?-I saw a vast deal more."-Elinor tried to make a civil answer." said she. that have been the greatest comfort to me in the world!--Heaven knows what I should have done without your friendship.--but as that was not the case"-"I guessed you would say so"--replied Lucy quickly--"but there was no reason in the world why Mrs. you. Dashwood was!" To this Elinor had no answer to make. "Indeed I am perfectly convinced of your regard for me. Ferrars and your sister were both so good to say Get any book for free on: www. if she did not. so we shall be a good deal in Harley Street. but really you did not look it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 164 but the very moment I was introduced. Miss Dashwood?--you seem low--you don't speak. and Elinor was obliged to go on. and meet pretty often.Abika. Such kindness as fell to the share of nobody but me!--No pride. Ferrars is a charming woman. and did not attempt any. Now was not it so?-You saw it all. Lady Middleton and Mrs. But it seemed to satisfy Lucy. I should be sorry to have YOU ill. no hauteur. though doubting her own success. Dashwood. for she directly replied. Mrs. indeed!--I wonder I should never hear you say how agreeable Mrs. for Lady Middleton's delighted with Mrs. to what I used to think. but Lucy still pressed her to own that she had reason for her happiness. if they had known your engagement. They are both delightful women. and there will be no difficulties at all.

They all looked exceedingly foolish. which the case rendered reasonable. by the observant eyes of Lucy. She would not be frightened from paying him those attentions which. as a friend and almost a relation. for his heart had not the indifference of Lucy's. though she soon perceived them to be narrowly watching her. were his due. that she forced herself. and after slightly addressing him. to do it well. I could not have stood it. and that she had very much regretted being from home. The very circumstance. and never looked at me in a pleasant way--you know what I mean--if I had been treated in that forbidding sort of way. and the countenance of each shewed that it was so.-They are such charming women!--I am sure if ever you tell your sister what I think of her. and another struggle. Ferrars. Lucy continued. Her manners gave some re-assurance to Edward. It was not Lucy's business to put herself forward. another effort still improved them. She could therefore only LOOK her tenderness. She would not allow the presence of Lucy. and so anxious was she. for his sake and her own. if Mrs.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 165 more than once. but his embarrassment still exceeded that of the ladies in a proportion. to welcome him. I know it is most violent. "I am sure I should have seen it in a moment. and never after had took any notice of me.Abika. I should have gave it all up in despair. and Edward's immediately walking in." Elinor was prevented from making any reply to this civil triumph." But Elinor would not give her any encouragement to hope that she SHOULD tell her sister. and Edward seemed to have as great an inclination to walk out of the room again. for instance. to deter her from saying that she was happy to see him. by the door's being thrown open. and almost . as to advance farther into it. they should always be glad to see me. though his sex might make it rare. The ladies recovered themselves first. which they would each have been most anxious to avoid. after a moment's recollection. For where she DOES dislike. had fallen on them. said no more.--They were not only all three together. with a look and manner that were almost easy. It was a very awkward moment. But Elinor had more to do. without saying a word. nor could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor's. in its unpleasantest form. Get any book for free on: www. and he had courage enough to sit down. Ferrars had took a dislike to me. the servant's announcing Mr. nor the consciousness of some injustice towards herself. but were together without the relief of any other person. and the appearance of secrecy must still be kept up. you cannot speak too high. If she had only made me a formal courtesy. when he called before in Berkeley Street.

who was obliged to volunteer all the information about her mother's health. however. and almost every thing that WAS said. but before such witnesses he dared not say half what he really felt. and she really did it. "Oh. seemed determined to make no contribution to the comfort of the others. Her exertions did not stop here. nor to conciliate the good will of Lucy. Edward was the first to speak. The sight of . it was time for the raptures of Edward to cease. "Do you like London?" said Edward. strong in itself. I expected much pleasure in it. don't think of me!" she replied with spirited earnestness. "Dear Edward!" she cried. their coming to town. sometimes at Edward and sometimes at Elinor.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 166 Lucy. for she soon afterwards felt herself so heroically disposed as to determine. Again they all sat down. "we must Get any book for free on: www. "don't think of MY health." she presently added. and it was to notice Marianne's altered looks. and thank Heaven! you are what you always were!" She paused--no one spoke. for Marianne's joy hurried her into the drawing-room immediately. Elinor. &c. That must be enough for us both. "I think. When that was once done. which Edward ought to have inquired about. who looked up at Marianne with no very benignant expression. Edward. is the only comfort it has afforded. and would not say a word. and for a moment or two all were silent. with a demure and settled air. with the most high-minded fortitude. "this is a moment of great happiness!--This would almost make amends for every thing?" Edward tried to return her kindness as it deserved." This remark was not calculated to make Edward or Elinor more easy. before she went to her sister. for she loitered away several minutes on the landing-place.Abika. Her pleasure in seeing him was like every other of her feelings. under pretence of fetching Marianne. and THAT in the handsomest manner. regretting only that their delight in each other should be checked by Lucy's unwelcome presence. willing to say any thing that might introduce another subject. you see. Elinor is well. She met him with a hand that would be taken. but I have found none. and a voice that expressed the affection of a sister. but never did. though her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke. while Marianne was looking with the most speaking tenderness. "Not at all. proceeded from Elinor. to leave the others by themselves. and express his fear of her not finding London agree with her. and strongly spoken.

He is the most fearful of giving pain. I trust. And I really believe he HAS the most delicate conscience in the world. for those who will accept of my love and esteem." cried Lucy. and however it may make against his interest or pleasure. "Going so soon!" said Marianne. so wretchedly dull!--But I have much to say to you on that head." And drawing him a little aside. and was so very unexhilarating to Edward. we shall be going. little as well as great. and could easily trace it to whatever cause best pleased herself. till they were more in private. "you think young men never stand upon engagements. I suppose. she whispered Get any book for free on: www. however. Edward. and the most incapable of being selfish. and of her being particularly disgusted with his mother. for she calmly replied. But Marianne. the most scrupulous in performing every . "We spent such a day. when such friends were to be met?" "Perhaps. nobody knew." Elinor was very angry. which cannot be said now. I am very sure that conscience only kept Edward from Harley Street. and I will say it. eager to take some revenge on her." Poor Edward muttered something. it is so. for. Miss Marianne. in the present case. who saw his agitation." And with this admirable discretion did she defer the assurance of her finding their mutual relatives more disagreeable than ever. not even himself. but Marianne seemed entirely insensible of the sting. of wounding expectation. "Not so. however minute. in Harley Street yesterday! So dull. and soon talked of something else. seriously speaking. of any body I ever saw. Edward. must submit to my open commendation. happened to be particularly ill-suited to the feelings of two thirds of her auditors. Edward?--Why did you not come?" "I was engaged elsewhere. Edward will not be very unwilling to accept the charge. "my dear Edward.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 167 employ Edward to take care of us in our return to Barton. What! are you never to hear yourself praised!--Then you must be no friend of mine. if they have no mind to keep them. but what it was." "Engaged! But what was that.Abika." The nature of her commendation. indeed. and. that he very soon got up to go away. was perfectly satisfied. this must not be. "But why were you not there. In a week or two.

even this encouragement failed. was that Edward would not often expose her or himself to the distress of hearing Marianne's mistaken warmth. by whom their company. Jennings's happiness. the engagements of her young friends. that are not really wanted. and said. that the lady of Thomas Palmer. as I must suppose to be the case. at least to all those intimate connections who knew it before. as it was professedly sought. highly important to Mrs. and influenced. she could give no information that would convince Marianne. a very interesting and satisfactory paragraph. you ought to recollect that I am the last person in the world to do it. For their own comfort they would much rather have remained. she was obliged to submit to it. at the particular request of the Middletons. It is but natural that he should like to see her as well as ourselves. Elinor. Get any book for free on: www. and Elinor dared not follow her to say more. on her leaving them. If you only hope to have your assertion contradicted. spent the whole of every day. "What can bring her here so often?" said Marianne." Marianne looked at her steadily." She then left the room. in every day in Conduit Street. in fact was as little valued. Their hours were therefore made over to Lady Middleton and the two Miss Steeles. but it was not a thing to be urged against the wishes of everybody. and Lucy has been the longest known to him of any. Esq. for as she wished to be as much as possible with Charlotte. Lucy. she went thither every morning as soon as she was . and did not return till late in the evening. for he would go.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 168 her But and two persuasion that Lucy could not stay much longer. the newspapers announced to the world. at least all the morning. and the Miss Dashwoods. who would have outstaid him. that this is a kind of talking which I cannot bear. produced a temporary alteration in the disposal of her time. was safely delivered of a son and heir. and painful as the consequences of her still continuing in an error might be. in Mrs.Abika. had his visit lasted hours. I cannot descend to be tricked out of assurances. "You know. CHAPTER 36 Within a few days after this meeting. in a like degree. Jennings's house. All that she could hope. soon afterwards went away. for bound as she was by her promise of secrecy to Lucy. This event. nor to the repetition of any other part of the pain that had attended their recent meeting--and this she had every reason to expect. "Could not she see that we wanted her gone!--how teazing to Edward!" "Why so?--we were all his friends.

that she thought it a delightful thing for the girls to be together. But this conciliation was not granted. so minute a detail of her situation. and sharing the kindness which they wanted to monopolize. It checked the idleness of one. and the business of the other. were so totally unsuspected by Mrs. inclined to oblige her. as intruding on THEIR ground. Lady Middleton was ashamed of doing nothing before them. Though nothing could be more polite than Lady Middleton's behaviour to Elinor and Marianne. at different times. Willoughby. and of that she made her daily complaint. Would they only have laughed at her about the Doctor! But so little were they. she always came in excellent spirits. she fancied them satirical: perhaps without exactly knowing what it was to be satirical. which their arrival occasioned. and by the latter they were considered with a jealous eye.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 169 They had too much sense to be desirable companions to the former. Miss Steele was the least discomposed of the three. attributing Charlotte's well doing to her own care. It was censure in common use. and because they were fond of reading. full of delight and importance. of all infants being alike. One thing DID disturb her. Palmer maintained the common. but a look of indifference from the former. and the flattery which Lucy was proud to think of and administer at other times. and more than once dropt a reflection on the inconstancy of beaux before Marianne. Because they neither flattered herself nor her children. and though she could plainly perceive. An effort even yet lighter might have made her their friend. that if Sir John dined from home. for though she often threw out expressions of pity for her sister to Elinor. by their presence. as only Miss Steele had curiosity enough to desire. she did not really like them at all. and generally congratulated her young friends every night. All these jealousies and discontents. no effect was produced. on having escaped the company of a stupid old woman so long. than what she was kind enough to bestow on herself. and ready to give so exact. and easily given.Abika. or of disgust in the latter. but unfatherly opinion among his sex. sometimes at her own house. the most striking resemblance between this baby and every one of his relations on both sides. but wherever it . Jennings. there was no convincing his father of it. she might spend a whole day without hearing any other raillery on the subject. no persuading him to believe that it Get any book for free on: www. Their presence was a restraint both on her and on Lucy. she could not believe them good-natured. Mr. she would have thought herself amply rewarded for the sacrifice of the best place by the fire after dinner. however. and it was in their power to reconcile her to it entirely. but THAT did not signify. She joined them sometimes at Sir John's. anymore than the others. she feared they would despise her for offering. Would either of them only have given her a full and minute account of the whole affair between Marianne and Mr.

and to decide on it by slight appearances. that Mrs. In the present instance. to a small musical party at her house. they feel injured by the expectation of any thing better from them. must always be her's. this last-arrived lady allowed her fancy to so far outrun truth and probability. and this misconstruction produced within a day or two afterwards. could have guessed the number of her gowns altogether with better judgment than Marianne herself. till the last . was never easy till she knew the price of every part of Marianne's dress. was considered by Marianne Get any book for free on: www. But that was not enough. Dashwood's sisters. when it was finished. nor could he even be brought to acknowledge the simple proposition of its being the finest child in the world. Jennings were first calling on her in Harley Street. that it was become a matter of indifference to her. where it was to take her. It so happened that while her two sisters with Mrs. during the whole of her toilet. and asked every thing. and how much she had every year to spend upon herself. whether she went or not: and she prepared quietly and mechanically for every evening's engagement. for when people are determined on a mode of conduct which they know to be wrong. it was true. and very often without knowing. must be subject to all the unpleasantness of appearing to treat them with attention: and who could tell that they might not expect to go out with her a second time? The power of disappointing them. as not to bestow half the consideration on it. which it received from Miss Steele in the first five minutes of their being together. To her dress and appearance she was grown so perfectly indifferent. John Dashwood. John Dashwood was obliged to submit not only to the exceedingly great inconvenience of sending her carriage for the Miss Dashwoods. The impertinence of these kind of scrutinies. she immediately concluded them to be staying in Harley Street. one's happiness must in some measure be always at the mercy of chance. The consequence of which was. and understanding them to be Mr. that on merely hearing the name of the Miss Dashwoods. Marianne had now been brought by degrees.Abika. another of her acquaintance had dropt in--a circumstance in itself not apparently likely to produce evil to her. she saw every thing. and was not without hopes of finding out before they parted. which though meant as its douceur. moreover.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 170 was not exactly like every other baby of the same age. though without expecting the smallest amusement from any. was generally concluded with a compliment. so much into the habit of going out every day. what was still worse. but. But while the imaginations of other people will carry them away to form wrong judgments of our conduct. which about this time befell Mrs. cards of invitation for them as well as for their brother and sister. how much her washing cost per week. I come now to the relation of a misfortune. Nothing escaped HER minute observation and general curiosity.

she did not find that the emptiness of conceit of the one. for. and unrestrained even by the presence of a harp. a punctuality not very agreeable to their sister-in-law. and the arrangement of her hair. Robert exclaimed to her himself in the course of a quarter of an hour's conversation. like other musical parties. any material superiority Get any book for free on: www. and had just determined to find out his name from the latter. though probably without any particular. As Elinor was neither musical. and the performers themselves were. to her brother's carriage. the colour of her shoes. nor affecting to be so. But while she wondered at the difference of the two young men. which they were ready to enter five minutes after it stopped at the door. that he was exactly the coxcomb she had heard him described to be by Lucy. for after undergoing an examination into the value and make of her gown. when they both came towards her. and she dared to say she would make a great many conquests. The events of this evening were not very remarkable. Why they WERE different. who had given them a lecture on toothpick-cases at Gray's. than to the misfortune of a private education. The party. Robert Ferrars. and that of their immediate friends. if her regard for Edward had depended less on his own merit. comprehended a great many people who had real taste for the performance. She perceived him soon afterwards looking at herself. and violoncello. she was almost sure of being told that upon "her word she looked vastly smart. and lamenting the extreme GAUCHERIE which he really believed kept him from mixing in proper society. who had preceded them to the house of her acquaintance. was she dismissed on the present occasion. put her out of all charity with the modesty and worth of the other. he candidly and generously attributed it much less to any natural deficiency. and twisted his head into a bow which assured her as plainly as words could have done. whenever it suited . Happy had it been for her. and a great many more who had none at all. He addressed her with easy civility. as usual. In one of these excursive glances she perceived among a group of young men. and was there hoping for some delay on their part that might inconvenience either herself or her coachman. the very he.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 171 as the greatest impertinence of all. in their own estimation. and Mr. the first private performers in England. and speaking familiarly to her brother. she made no scruple of turning her eyes from the grand pianoforte. would fix them at pleasure on any other object in the room. talking of his brother. than on the merit of his nearest relations! For then his brother's bow must have given the finishing stroke to what the ill-humour of his mother and sister would have begun." With such encouragement as this.Abika. Dashwood introduced him to her as Mr. while he himself.

was as well fitted to mix in the world as any other . where I might drive myself down at any time. and my mother is perfectly convinced of her error. if I had any money to spare. 'you must make yourself easy.' said I." he added. I think." said he."--was his next observation. There is not a room in this cottage that will hold ten couple.' And that I fancy. "I believe it is nothing more. The evil is now irremediable. against your own judgment. no space in a cottage. the library may be open for tea and other refreshments. instead of sending him to Mr. and be happy. and so I often tell my mother. because. but by all means build a cottage. do tell me how it is to be managed. will be the end of it. "You reside in Devonshire. and where can the supper be?' I immediately saw that there could be no difficulty in it." Elinor set him right as to its situation. at the most critical time of his life? If you had only sent him to Westminster as well as myself. My friend Lord Courtland came to me the other day on purpose to ask my advice. "I am excessively fond of a cottage. merely from the advantage of a public school. I was last month at my friend Elliott's. there is always so much comfort. card-tables may be placed in the drawing-room. And I protest. 'My dear Madam. but this is all a mistake. 'do not adopt either of them." Elinor would not oppose his opinion. Pratt's family. "For my own part. and it seemed rather surprising to him that anybody could live in Devonshire. I advise every body who is going to build. immediately throwing them all into the fire. 'My dear Courtland. within a short distance of London. "Upon my soul. when she is grieving about it. He bestowed his hearty approbation however on their species of house. Why would you be persuaded by my uncle.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 172 by nature. "Some people imagine that there can be no accommodations. 'My dear Lady Elliott. and let the Get any book for free on: www.Abika. do not be uneasy. and laid before me three different plans of Bonomi's. The dining parlour will admit eighteen couple with ease.' This is the way in which I always consider the matter. Lady Elliott wished to give a dance. 'But how can it be done?' said she. "in a cottage near Dawlish. Sir Robert. without living near Dawlish. 'my dear Ferrars. so I said. and it has been entirely your own doing. Pratt's. to place Edward under private tuition. she could not think of Edward's abode in Mr. to build a cottage.' I always say to her. I was to decide on the best of them. whatever might be her general estimation of the advantage of a public school. near Dartford. and collect a few friends about me. with any satisfaction. I should buy a little land and build one myself. all this would have been prevented. so much elegance about them.

We measured the dining-room. But I had just settled within myself to ask the Miss Steeles to spend a few days with us. his mind was equally at liberty to fix on any thing else. He saw the necessity of inviting the Miss Steeles immediately. if people do but know how to set about it. for they spend every day with her. slyly suspecting that another year would make the invitation needless. and the affair was arranged precisely after my plan. if it was in my power. in fact. as their uncle did so very well by Edward. had suggested the propriety of their being really invited to become such." Fanny paused a moment. and his conscience was pacified by the resolution of inviting his sisters another year. "They had already spent a week in this manner in Conduit Street. the inconvenience not more. for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational . How can I ask them away from her?" Her husband. very much already. you know. at the same time. in supposing his sisters their guests. while Mrs.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 173 supper be set out in the saloon. Dashwood was convinced. I am sure you will like them. So that. Get any book for free on: www. you DO like them. Fanny was startled at the proposal. Dennison's mistake. You know I am always ready to pay them any attention in my power. They are very well behaved. and Lady Middleton could not be displeased at their giving the same number of days to such near relations.Abika. "I do not see how it can be done. and they are such favourites with Harry!" Mr. for her approbation. you see. when they got home. but with great humility. but the Miss Steeles may not be in town any more. said.' Lady Elliott was delighted with the thought. Jenning's engagements kept her from home. however. every comfort may be as well enjoyed in a cottage as in the most spacious dwelling. and found it would hold exactly eighteen couple. "My love I would ask them with all my heart. with fresh vigor. otherwise I should be exceedingly glad to do it. "without affronting Lady Middleton. The consideration of Mrs. and I think the attention is due to them. did not see the force of her objection. and then. and it was altogether an attention which the delicacy of his conscience pointed out to be requisite to its complete enfranchisement from his promise to his father. as my taking them out this evening shews. The expense would be nothing. We can ask your sisters some other year. good kind of girls. you know." Elinor agreed to it all. As John Dashwood had no more pleasure in music than his eldest sister. which he communicated to his wife. But they are Lady Middleton's visitors. and so does my mother." said she. indeed. and a thought struck him during the evening.

to do every thing that Lucy wished. it gave her. strengthened her expectation of the event.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 174 by bringing Elinor to town as Colonel Brandon's wife.Abika. to request her company and her sister's. Volume II ended. [At this point in the first and second edtions. Dashwood had never been so much pleased with any young women in her life. called Lucy by her Christian name. who called on them more than once. vouchsafed on so short an acquaintance. for such a mark of uncommon kindness. as soon as Lady Middleton could spare them. as it was within ten minutes after its arrival. the most material to her interest. seemed to declare that the good-will towards her arose from something more than merely malice against herself. and did not know whether she should ever be able to part with them. John Dashwood. as must be universally striking. herself. some share in the expectations of Lucy. This was enough to make Lucy really and reasonably happy. wrote the next morning to Lucy. and promoting all her views! Such an opportunity of being with Edward and his family was. and made an entry into the close heart of Mrs. in Harley Street. Her flattery had already subdued the pride of Lady Middleton. was instantly discovered to have been always meant to end in two days' time. The Miss Steeles removed to Harley Street. Mrs. Fanny. brought home such accounts of the favour they were in. as she was with them. that her mother felt it no longer necessary to give up the whole of her time to her. and these were effects that laid open the probability of greater. for the first time. for some days. which had not before had any precise limits. and such an invitation the most gratifying to her feelings! It was an advantage that could not be too gratefully . cherishing all her hopes. and might be brought. contenting herself with Get any book for free on: www. and. had given each of them a needle book made by some emigrant. Palmer was so well at the end of a fortnight. and Marianne as THEIR visitor. by time and address. When the note was shown to Elinor. Sir John.] CHAPTER 37 Mrs. Dashwood seemed actually working for her. and the visit to Lady Middleton. above all things. Mrs. and all that reached Elinor of their influence there. nor too speedily made use of. and proud of the ready wit that had procured it. rejoicing in her escape.

and at last he said in a whisper. but it came into my head to ask him if there was any news. it seems. Edward Ferrars. Palmer. with an air of such hurrying importance as prepared her to hear something wonderful. began directly to justify it.' says I. What is it?" "Something so strange! But you shall hear it all. Mrs. I hope Mrs. and simpered. 'is Mrs. 'Lord! my dear. that I believe there is no great reason for alarm. so he stepped over directly. ma'am. that it was nothing in the world but the red gum. except Nancy!--Could you have believed such a thing possible?-There is no great wonder in their liking one another. Get any book for free on: www. it came into my head. and then Charlotte was easy. Palmer's. Dashwood ill?' So then it all came out. 'For fear any unpleasant report should reach the young ladies under your care as to their sister's indisposition. and nobody suspect it!--THAT is strange!--I never happened to see them together. and fretted. entered the drawing-room. where Elinor was sitting by herself. 'Lord!' says I. and her own habits. just as he was going away again. my dear!--And not a creature knowing a syllable of the matter. my dear. he smirked. as it turns out. and so this was kept a great secret. Well. the very young man I used to joke with you about (but however. and looked grave. So I looked at it directly. I am sure I do not know how I happened to think of it. and was all over pimples. Dashwood will do very well. Mr. But Charlotte. And so. I found Charlotte quite in a fuss about the child. she would not be satisfied.-When I got to Mr. so Mr. Donavan was sent for. but the red gum--' and nurse said just the same. She was sure it was very ill--it cried. on returning from her ordinary visit to Mrs. in which she found the Miss Dashwoods very ready to ressume their former share. About the third or fourth morning after their being thus resettled in Berkeley Street.Abika. . be said just as we did.'" "What! is Fanny ill?" "That is exactly what I said. returned from that period to her own home. but that matters should be brought so forward between them. 'it is nothing in the world. "Lord! my dear Miss Dashwood! have you heard the news?" "No. I am monstrous glad there was never any thing in it). by saying. and as soon as ever he saw the child. by all I can learn. and the long and the short of the matter. or I am sure I should have found it out directly. So upon that.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 175 visiting her once or twice a day. Edward Ferrars. and giving her time only to form that idea. and. seems to be this. and seemed to know something or other. has been engaged above this twelvemonth to my cousin Lucy!--There's for you. and luckily he happened to just come in from Harley Street. I think it advisable to say. Mr.

and cried bitterly. who. as he was sitting in his own dressing-room down stairs. 'Lord!' thinks she to herself. for your sister was sure SHE would be in hysterics too. for what I care. There is no reason on earth why Mr. He and I had a great deal of talk about it. thinking about writing a letter to his steward in the country. Poor soul! I pity HER. she was almost as bad. I have no patience with your sister.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 176 for fear of Mrs. Lord! what a taking poor Mr. for Lucy was come to them by that time. I think she was used very hardly. 'they are all so fond of Lucy. Donavan thinks just the same. Edward will be in when he hears of it! To have his love used so scornfully! for they say he is monstrous fond of her. Edward and Lucy should not marry. Ferrars is told of it. that he is gone back again to Harley Street. for I am sure Mrs. if he was to be in the greatest passion!--and Mr. he says. and though Lucy has next to nothing herself. Donavan found the house in all this uproar. to persuade her to let them stay till they had packed up their clothes. he walked about the room.-till this very morning. I declare. Ferrars may afford to do very well by her son. and neither she nor your brother or sister suspected a word of the matter. that he may be within call when Mrs. and Mr.' and so. to be sure they will make no difficulty about it. The carriage was at the door ready to take my poor cousins away. with all my heart. but no conjurer. you know. I have no notion of people's making such a to-do about money and greatness. little suspecting what was to come--for she had just been saying to your brother. and I hope. away she went to your sister.Abika. she knows better than any body how to make the most of every thing. who was sitting all alone at her carpet-work. as well he may. and so she may. Nancy. and a terrible scene took place. Dashwood declared they should not stay a minute longer in the house. and Nancy. and said he did not know what to do. Donavan. and soon drove her into a fainting fit. and the best of all is. poor Lucy in such a condition. I have no pity for either of them. she fell upon her knees. Ferrars. and they were just stepping in as he came off. is a well-meaning creature. And I must say. THEN she fell into hysterics again. for she was sent for as soon as ever my cousins left the house. and your brother was forced to go down upon HIS knees too. She fell into violent hysterics immediately. little dreaming what was going on. she could hardly walk. that she thought to make a match between Edward and some Lord's daughter or other. for your sister scolded like any fury. I forget who. Ferrars would only allow him five hundred a-year. and he was so frightened that he would send for Mr. she would make as good an appearance with it as any body else would with eight. Lord! how snug they might live in such another cottage Get any book for free on: www. poor Nancy. So you may think what a blow it was to all her vanity and pride. I should not wonder. Mrs. and your brother. with such screams as reached your brother's ears. popt it all out. it will be a match in spite of her. only five minutes before. if Mrs. I dare . So up he flew directly.

Jennings ceased. that Mrs. Elinor soon saw the necessity of preparing Marianne for its discussion." Here Mrs. for my Betty has a sister out of place. For HIM she felt much compassion. in the absence of Marianne.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 177 as yours--or a little bigger--with two maids. and in endeavouring to bring her to hear it talked of by others. and cried excessively. though she earnestly tried to drive away the notion of its being possible to end otherwise at last. and as Elinor had had time enough to collect her thoughts. Ferrars would say and do.--for the rest of the party none at all. and to give her judgment. with impartiality on the conduct of every one concerned in it. it was not accompanied by violent agitation. Happy to find that she was not suspected of any extraordinary interest in it. Her narration was clear and simple. without betraying that she felt any uneasiness for her sister. No time was to be lost in undeceiving her. and Elinor therefore hastened to perform it. She was very far from wishing to dwell on her own feelings. she was able to give such an answer. for Marianne listened with horror.--to give such particulars of Edward as she feared would ruin him for ever in her good opinion. by a resemblance in their situations. She could hardly determine what her own expectation of its event really was. or any resentment against Edward. as she believed. and make such observations. feel all her own disappointment over again. Jennings could talk on no other subject. or to represent herself as suffering much. As Mrs. and I believe I could help them to a housemaid. which to HER fancy would seem strong. in making her acquainted with the real truth. and two men. might suggest a hint of what was practicable to Marianne. any otherwise than as the self-command she had practised since her first knowledge of Edward's engagement. But unwelcome as such a task must be.--She was going to remove what she really believed to be her sister's chief consolation. though there could not be a doubt of its nature. What Mrs. and happy above all the rest. she was anxious to hear. nor impetuous grief.--THAT belonged rather to the hearer. than in the marriage of Edward and Lucy.-for Lucy very little--and it cost her some pains to procure that . Elinor was to be the comforter Get any book for free on: www. that would fit them exactly. it was necessary to be done. she felt very well able to speak of the affair without embarrassment. and though it could not be given without emotion. Elinor's office was a painful one. Jennings (as she had of late often hoped might be the case) had ceased to imagine her at all attached to Edward. as the subject might naturally be supposed to produce.Abika.-and to make Marianne. and still more anxious to know how Edward would conduct himself.

She would not even admit it to have been natural. was readily offered. obliged me to be secret. not to create in them a solicitude about me.--Marianne's feelings had then broken in. Elinor? has he written to you?" "I have known it these four months.--"So calm!-so cheerful!--how have you been supported?"-"By feeling that I was doing my duty. After a pause of wonder. Edward seemed a second Willoughby. and I owed it to my family and friends. and acknowledging as Elinor did. she told me in confidence of her engagement. and for some time all that could be done was to soothe her .SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 178 of others in her own distresses. was. which led to farther particulars. a better knowledge of mankind. and put an end to all regularity of detail. which it could not be in my power to satisfy. no less than in theirs. therefore. to avoid giving any hint of the truth. and the length of time it had existed. But Marianne for some time would give credit to neither. she considered her so totally unamiable. and a very earnest vindication of Edward from every charge but of imprudence. "How long has this been known to you. has this been on your heart?--And I have reproached you for being happy!"-"It was not fit that you should then know how much I was the reverse!" "Four months!"--cried Marianne again. "What!--while attending me in all my misery. and all the comfort that could be given by assurances of her own composure of mind. by that which only could convince her. that she could not be persuaded at first to believe. could she feel less than herself! As for Lucy Steele. and combat her resentment. I owed it to her. lessen her alarms. The first question on her side. that she HAD loved him most sincerely. any former affection of Edward for her. Her first communication had reached no farther than to state the fact of the engagement." At these words. she exclaimed-"Four months!--Have you known of this four months?" Elinor confirmed it.--My promise to Lucy.Abika. and Elinor left her to be convinced that it was so. so absolutely incapable of attaching a sensible man. When Lucy first came to Barton Park last November." Get any book for free on: www. and afterwards to pardon. Marianne's eyes expressed the astonishment which her lips could not utter.

-It was told me. your resolution. I acquit Edward of essential misconduct. and have suffered the Get any book for free on: www. for I assure you I no longer suffer materially myself. nor has anything declared him indifferent to me. without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature. I am not conscious of having provoked the disappointment by any imprudence of my own. he will marry a woman superior in person and understanding to half her sex. I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt.-I have had to contend against the unkindness of his sister. and I am so sure of his always doing his duty." said . after all that is bewitching in the idea of a single and constant attachment. I can think and speak of it with little emotion. a little less to be wondered at. and the insolence of his mother. as I thought. it is not meant--it is not fit--it is not possible that it should be so." "Four months!--and yet you loved him!"-"Yes.-but without betraying my trust.--it was in a manner forced on me by the very person herself. yet unable to prepare you for it in the least. therefore. I have had to oppose. with triumph. I have had all this hanging on my mind. and that is the foundation on which every thing good may be built. Marianne. and told me. I wish him very happy.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 179 Marianne seemed much struck.--And after all.-Edward will marry Lucy." "I understand you. I have borne it as much as possible without spreading it farther.--and while the comfort of others was dear to me. in the end he must become so. knowing that it would make you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained to you." added Elinor. "if the loss of what is most valued is so easily to be made up by something else.Abika. without hearing one circumstance that could make me less desire the connection. "and once or twice I have attempted it.--They are brought more within my comprehension. by endeavouring to appear indifferent where I have been most deeply interested. are.--and it has not been only once.--I have had her hopes and exultation to listen to again and again. Now. whose prior engagement ruined all my prospects.--Nothing has proved him unworthy. I would not have you suffer on my account. I have many things to support me. Lucy does not want sense. perhaps. your self-command. and all that can be said of one's happiness depending entirely on any particular person. that though now he may harbour some regret.-I have known myself to be divided from Edward for ever.--You do not suppose that I have ever felt much.-This person's suspicions.--For four months. "I have very often wished to undeceive yourself and my mother. But I did not love only him."-"If such is your way of thinking. and time and habit will teach him to forget that he ever thought another superior to HER. I never could have convinced you. Marianne.

--and even to see Edward himself. and was heard three times to say. In such a frame of mind as she was now in. and at her request.--but where Marianne felt that she had injured. "of the very shocking discovery that took place under our roof yesterday. who have seemed to be only suffering for me!--Is this my gratitude?--Is this the only return I can make you?--Because your merit cries out upon myself." said he with great solemnity.--they did not spring up of themselves. who came with a most serious aspect to talk over the dreadful affair.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 180 punishment of an attachment. Jennings had to say upon the subject. if I had not been bound to silence.--THEN. as soon as he was seated." The tenderest caresses followed this confession. She performed her promise of being discreet. have been the effect of constant and painful exertion. when. Marianne engaged never to speak of the affair to any one with the least appearance of bitterness. I suppose. without enjoying its advantages. The composure of mind with which I have brought myself at present to consider the matter. who have borne with me in all my misery. with an unchanging complexion. if chance should bring them together. I have been trying to do it away. as you know too .-they did not occur to relieve my spirits at first. Elinor had no difficulty in obtaining from her whatever promise she required." Get any book for free on: www."-Marianne was quite subdued.-"Oh! Elinor. it has not been my only unhappiness.-And all this has been going on at a time. The next morning brought a farther trial of it. and when Mrs.--Such advances towards heroism in her sister. the consolation that I have been willing to admit.--to meet Lucy without betraying the smallest increase of dislike to her.-No. "Yes. and bring them news of his wife. "you have made me hate myself for ever.-If you can think me capable of ever feeling--surely you may suppose that I have suffered NOW.-These were great concessions. without any diminution of her usual cordiality. Marianne.--How barbarous have I been to you!-you. perhaps nothing could have kept me entirely--not even what I owed to my dearest friends--from openly shewing that I was VERY unhappy."--She listened to her praise of Lucy with only moving from one chair to another. made Elinor feel equal to any thing herself. "You have heard. no reparation could be too much for her to make. Jennings talked of Edward's affection. who have been my only comfort.Abika. in a visit from their brother. it cost her only a spasm in her throat. dissented from her in nothing.--She attended to all that Mrs. ma'am. to admiration." she cried.

every thing was disregarded. with all my heart. when matters grew desperate.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 181 They all looked their assent. His own two thousand pounds she protested should be his all. Poor Fanny! she was in hysterics all . And now to be so rewarded! 'I wish. affection. "has suffered dreadfully. and would be pleasant companions. it seemed too awful a moment for speech. 'THERE.'" Here he stopped to be thanked. "Your sister. brings in a good thousand a-year. which being done.Abika. Donavan says there is nothing materially to be apprehended. when first Fanny broke it to her. represented to him the certain penury that must attend the match. to make it twelve hundred. Duty. well-behaved girls. and one cannot wonder at it. was attending her daughter. His mother explained to him her liberal designs. All that Mrs. to be sure. We consulted together. Ferrars suffered. He came. he went on. she would never see him again. Mrs. and so far Get any book for free on: www. were harmless. offered even. in case of his marrying Miss Morton. "What poor Mrs. While she with the truest affection had been planning a most eligible connection for him. while your kind friend there. She has borne it all. after being so deceived!-meeting with such ingratitude. so unfeeling before. however. it could not be in THAT quarter. told him she would settle on him the Norfolk estate. that she had asked these young women to her house. which. 'I might have thought myself safe.' said she. as to what should be done. merely because she thought they deserved some attention. so much confidence had been placed! It was quite out of the benevolence of her heart.' says poor Fanny in her affectionate way. was it to be supposed that he could be all the time secretly engaged to another person!--such a suspicion could never have entered her head! If she suspected ANY prepossession elsewhere. 'that we had asked your sisters instead of them. clear of land-tax. for otherwise we both wished very much to have invited you and Marianne to be with us. is not to be described. But I would not alarm you too much. and her resolution equal to any thing. if he still persisted in this low connection. assisted too as you may well suppose by my arguments. with the fortitude of an angel! She says she never shall think well of anybody again." he continued. and at last she determined to send for Edward. her constitution is a good one. and in opposition to this. where so much kindness had been shewn. and Fanny's entreaties. Ferrars could say to make him put an end to the engagement. Ferrars too--in short it has been a scene of such complicated distress--but I will hope that the storm may be weathered without our being any of us quite overcome. But I am sorry to relate what ensued.' She was quite in an agony. I never thought Edward so stubborn. was of no avail.

Ferrars's conduct throughout the whole.Abika. and forbore. but she remembered her promises. "I would by no means speak disrespectfully of any relation of yours. He would stand to it. Mr. that if he were to enter into any profession with a view of better support." replied her brother. especially anybody of good fortune. nor one who more deserves a good husband. but what he did say. in like circumstances. for a woman who could not reward him. the connection must be impossible. was in the most determined manner." cried Mrs. Ferrars." Marianne was going to retort. while braving his mother's threats. "All this. Get any book for free on: www. would adopt. He therefore . and Elinor's heart wrung for the feelings of Edward. no longer able to be silent. I do not mean to reflect upon the behaviour of any person whom you have a regard for. I dare say. but in the present case you know. We all wish her extremely happy." he continued. good mother. as well as yourself. a very deserving young woman. Edward said very little." Marianne sighed out her similar apprehension." Here Marianne. is perhaps. altogether a little extraordinary. Marianne. clapped her hands together. the son of a woman especially of such very large fortune as Mrs. "he has acted like an honest man! I beg your pardon. Mrs. Jennings. for Lucy Steele is my cousin. and I believe there is not a better kind of girl in the world. madam. without any resentment. "at the obstinacy which could resist such arguments as these. and I fear it will be a bad one. in an ecstasy of indignation. not open to provocation. but if he had done otherwise. Nothing should prevail on him to give up his engagement. and Mrs. In short." "Then. Edward has drawn his own lot. has been such as every conscientious. Your exclamation is very natural. Dashwood. she would do all in her power to prevent him advancing in it. cost him what it might." John Dashwood was greatly astonished. Jennings with blunt sincerity. It has been dignified and liberal. I have some little concern in the business. but his nature was calm. And to have entered into a secret engagement with a young man under her uncle's care. Miss Lucy Steele is. "was urged in vain.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 182 would she be from affording him the smallest assistance. and cried. and he never wished to offend anybody. "Gracious God! can this be possible!" "Well may you wonder. I should have thought him a rascal. however.

Jennings." Marianne got up and walked about the room. I left her this morning with her lawyer. "I am sure he should be very welcome to bed and board at my house. that he might. and so I would tell him if I could see him. on proper conditions. which must be worse than all--his mother has determined. five hundred a-year (for Miss Morton has thirty thousand pounds. and would have wanted for nothing. It is not fit that he should be living about at his own charge now. He left her house . concluded his visit. he might now have been in his proper situation. it must be out of anybody's power to assist him." "Poor young man!--and what is to become of him?" "What. or whether he is still in town. though she could not forbear smiling at the form of it. to settle THAT estate upon Robert immediately. "that is HER revenge. which might have been Edward's. I do not know. Jennings. The interest of two thousand pounds--how can a man live on it?--and when to that is added the recollection." "Well!" said Mrs. because another had plagued me. "as all his friends were disposed to do by him." said John Dashwood." continued John. Jennings. but for his own folly. And there is one thing more preparing against him. indeed. Born to the prospect of such affluence! I cannot conceive a situation more deplorable. ma'am. ma'am! It is a melancholy consideration. at lodgings and taverns. But as it is. talking over the business.) I cannot picture to myself a more wretched condition. We must all feel for him. Everybody has a way of their own.Abika. "If he would only have done as well by himself. But I don't think mine would be. sir. but where he is gone. and with repeated assurances to his Get any book for free on: www. for WE of course can make no inquiry." A few minutes more spent in the same kind of effusion." said Mrs. "than to see his younger brother in possession of an estate which might have been his own? Poor Edward! I feel for him sincerely." "Poor young man!" cried Mrs. within three months have been in the receipt of two thousand.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 183 "Well. in a most unhappy rupture:-Edward is dismissed for ever from his mother's notice. to make one son independent." Elinor's heart thanked her for such kindness towards Edward. because it is totally out of our power to assist him. "and how did it end?" "I am sorry to say. "Can anything be more galling to the spirit of a man. and the more so. with a very natural kind of spirit.

She felt all the force of that comparison. and Edward's. and as her vehemence made reserve impossible in Elinor. but not as her sister had hoped. and nothing but the hindrance of more visitors than usual. for a day or two afterwards. that could remain to him in the loss of friends and fortune. CHAPTER 38 Mrs. as tending to fix still more upon her thoughts. and Marianne forgave all his offences in compassion for his punishment. they all joined in a very spirited critique upon the party. and that they need not therefore be very uneasy about it. Her mind was so much weakened that she still fancied present exertion impossible. Jennings. the Dashwoods'. leaving the three ladies unanimous in their sentiments on the present occasion. and how small was the consolation.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 184 sisters that he really believed there was no material danger in Fanny's indisposition. regretted most bitterly that she had never exerted herself before. as far at least as it regarded Mrs. he went away. in trying to converse upon a topic which always left her more dissatisfied with herself than ever. without seeking after more. and therefore it only dispirited her more.Abika. But though so much of the matter was known to them already. Marianne's indignation burst forth as soon as he quitted the room. without the hope of amendment. by this public discovery. too positive assurances of Marianne. and Marianne's courage soon failed her. THEY only knew how little he had had to tempt him to be . she felt it with all the pain of continual self-reproach. to urge her to exertion now. by the too warm. but it brought only the torture of penitence. she had resolved from the first to pay a visit of comfort and inquiry to her cousins as soon as she could. and unnecessary in Mrs. Elinor avoided it upon principle. But though confidence between them was. or Bartlett's Buildings. restored to its proper state. but only Elinor and Marianne understood its true merit. of affairs in Harley Street. Ferrars's conduct. Elinor gloried in his integrity. that belief of Edward's continued affection for herself which she rather wished to do away. beyond the consciousness of doing right. had prevented her going to them within that time. that Mrs. The third day succeeding their knowledge of the Get any book for free on: www. Jennings might have had enough to do in spreading that knowledge farther. by the comparison it necessarily produced between Elinor's conduct and her own. Jennings was very warm in her praise of Edward's conduct. it was not a subject on which either of them were fond of dwelling when alone. Nothing new was heard by them.

accosted by Miss Steele. My cousins have been so plaguing me! I declare sometimes I do not know which way to look before them. left her own party for a short time." And then lowering her voice. chose rather to stay at home. and Elinor was not sorry that by her continuing with them. is SHE angry?" "I cannot suppose it possible that she should." "I am monstrous glad of it. Jennings immediately whispered to Elinor. so beautiful a Sunday as to draw many to Kensington Gardens. who knew that the Willoughbys were again in town. was so fine. and for some time nothing of anybody who could by any chance whether grave or gay. for my part. however. with you." It was lucky. Is she angry?" "Not at all. and put in the feather last night. so long as she lived. and on receiving encouragement from the particular kindness of Mrs. She will tell you any thing if you ask. if he had not happened to say so. and engaging all Mrs. But at last she found herself with some surprise. nothing of Edward. to join their's. who. Jennings's conversation. Jennings joined them soon after they entered the Gardens. but Marianne. taking her familiarly by the arm--"for I wanted to see you of all things in the world. "I am so glad to meet you. She vowed at first she would never trim me up a new bonnet." said Miss Steele. Look. but now she is quite come to.Abika. Mrs. for nothing would otherwise have been learnt. and we are as good friends as ever. for Mrs. I am sure. "I suppose Mrs. Jennings and Elinor were of the number. But why should not I wear pink ribbons? I do not care if it IS the Doctor's favourite colour. my dear. An intimate acquaintance of Mrs. Good gracious! I have had such a time of it! I never saw Lucy in such a rage in my life. that she would tell any thing WITHOUT being asked. Mrs. be interesting to her. though looking rather shy." She had wandered away to a subject on which Elinor Get any book for free on: www. There now. She saw nothing of the Willoughbys. And Lady Middleton. Jennings has heard all about it. though it was only the second week in March. "Get it all out of her. I believe. and had a constant dread of meeting them. she made me this bow to my hat. You see I cannot leave Mrs. YOU are going to laugh at me too. nor do any thing else for me again. Jennings. than venture into so public a place. Jennings's curiosity and Elinor's . I should never have known he DID like it better than any other colour. she was herself left to quiet reflection.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 185 particulars. expressed great satisfaction in meeting them. Clarke." "That is a good thing.

I know. that when it came to the point he was afraid Mr. and did not know what was become of him. he had got upon his horse. Ferrars to give up a woman like Miss Morton. to put an end to the matter directly. and not upon his own. and if he was to go into orders. for Lucy Steele that had nothing at all. and I had it from Miss Sparks myself. Lucy would not give Get any book for free on: www. and how he had declared before them all that he loved nobody but Lucy. And after thinking it all over and over again. to be sure. you know. and been talked to by his mother and all of them. and when Edward did not come near us for three days. and I believe in my heart Lucy gave it up all for lost. with thirty thousand pounds to her fortune. "Oh. and no nothing at all. and by more than one. Whatever Lucy might think about it herself. but then her spirits rose against that. because it must be for her loss. and how he had stayed about at an inn all Thursday and Friday. if she had the least mind for it. and so he begged. but Miss Dashwood. now he had no fortune. I could not tell what to think myself. it seemed to him as if. And besides that. Once Lucy thought to write to . on purpose to get the better of it. as he had some thoughts. and leave him shift for himself. very well. some where or other. However this morning he came just as we came home from church.Abika. that nobody in their senses could expect Mr. I assure you. and no hope of any thing else. or any thing like it. Ferrars would be off. and how was they to live upon that?--He could not bear to think of her doing no better." said Elinor. and nobody but Lucy would he have." speaking triumphantly. for it is no such thing I can tell you. for he had nothing but two thousand pounds. he could get nothing but a curacy." "I never heard any thing of the kind hinted at before. my cousin Richard said himself. And it was entirely for HER sake. for Miss Godby told Miss Sparks. I heard him say all this as plain as could possibly be. for we came away from your brother's Wednesday. and upon HER account. and we saw nothing of him not all Thursday. and Saturday. or of wishing to marry Miss Morton. But. it would be quite unkind to keep her on to the engagement. and rid into the country. And how he had been so worried by what passed. did not you? But it WAS said. how he had been sent for Wednesday to Harley Street. he said. and then it all came out. I will take my oath he never dropt a syllable of being tired of her. "Well.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 186 had nothing to say. that he said a word about being off. Friday. and it is quite a shame for such ill-natured reports to be spread abroad. Ferrars's declaring he would not have Lucy. "people may say what they chuse about Mr. that as soon as he had went away from his mother's house. and therefore soon judged it expedient to find her way back again to the first. it was no business of other people to set it down for certain.

and would take one of us to Kensington Gardens. I shan't say anything against them to . "have you been repeating to me what you only learnt yourself by listening at the door? I am sorry I did not know it before. she never made any bones of hiding in a closet. so she told him directly (with a great deal about sweet and love. which was more than I looked for. or something of the kind. "Edward talks of going to Oxford soon. La! Miss Dashwood. on purpose to hear what we said. and talked on some time about what they should do. not us. "but now he is lodging at No. or behind a chimney-board. I was all in a fright for fear your sister should ask us for the Get any book for free on: www. she had not the least mind in the world to be off. How could you behave so unfairly by your sister?" "Oh. So then he was monstrous happy. you know. Richardson was come in her coach. she should be very glad to have it all. and all I heard was only by listening at the door. What an ill-natured woman his monther is. for shame!--To be sure you must know better than that. la! there is nothing in THAT. And just then I could not hear any more. And I am sure Lucy would have done just the same by me." Elinor tried to talk of something else.Abika. "you were all in the same room together. and to be sure they did send us home in their own chariot. from what was uppermost in her mind.)--No. you know. were not you?" "No. but she did not care to leave Edward. indeed. an't she? And your brother and sister were not very kind! However." "How!" cried Elinor.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 187 ear to such kind of talking." "I do not understand what you mean by interrupting them. and they agreed he should take orders directly. to ask Lucy if she would like to go. for a year or two back." said Elinor. And for my part. when Martha Sharpe and I had so many secrets together. but Miss Steele could not be kept beyond a couple of minutes. they were shut up in the drawing-room together. for I certainly would not have suffered you to give me particulars of a conversation which you ought not to have known yourself. (Laughing affectedly. for my cousin called from below to tell me Mrs. and all that--Oh. --. la! one can't repeat such kind of things you know)--she told him directly. for she could live with him upon a trifle. no. so I was forced to go into the room and interrupt them. Pall Mall. so I just run up stairs and put on a pair of silk stockings and came off with the Richardsons. I only stood at the door." said she. and they must wait to be married till he got a living. do you think people make love when any body else is by? Oh. and how little so ever he might have. and heard what I could.

" said Elinor. They will tell me I should write to the Doctor. Mrs. Jennings. I have not time to speak to Mrs.Abika. but pray tell her I am quite happy to hear she is not in anger against us. I wonder what curacy he will get!--Good gracious! (giggling as she spoke) I'd lay my life I know what my cousins will . I had a vast deal more to say to you. though she had learnt very little more than what had been already foreseen and foreplanned in her own mind. He makes a monstrous deal of money. Get any book for free on: www. 'I wonder how you could think of such a thing? I write to the Doctor. but. indeed!'" "Well. Remember me kindly to her. he will be ordained. Jennings should want company. Richardson. but I must not stay away from them not any longer. she had time only to pay her farewell compliments to Mrs. La! if you have not got your spotted muslin on!--I wonder you was not afraid of its being torn.-'La!' I shall say directly. Jennings about it myself. but the approach of her own party made another more necessary. for the sake of her own consequence. so he must go there for a time. when they hear of it. she confined herself to the brief repetition of such simple particulars.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 188 huswifes she had gave us a day or two before. for after this." Miss Steele was going to reply on the same subject. and after THAT. as soon as he can light upon a Bishop. as she felt assured that Lucy. and if anything should happen to take you and your sister away. I am sure we should be very glad to come and stay with her for as long a time as she likes. la! here come the Richardsons. "Oh. there seemed not the smallest chance. Edward have got some business at Oxford. exactly after her expectation. "it is a comfort to be prepared against the worst. however. before her company was claimed by Mrs. but as Elinor wished to spread as little as possible intelligence that had in the first place been so unfairly obtained. he says." Such was her parting concern. but I am sure I would not do such a thing for all the world. I know they will. You have got your answer ready. I suppose Lady Middleton won't ask us any more this bout. as she had concluded it would be. Good-by. and the time of its taking place remained as absolutely uncertain. Edward's marriage with Lucy was as firmly determined on. at present. The continuance of their engagement. on his getting that preferment.--every thing depended. to get Edward the curacy of his new living. and they keep their own coach. Jennings was eager for information. and I took care to keep mine out of sight. of which. nothing was said about them. would choose to have known. and Elinor was left in possession of knowledge which might feed her powers of reflection some time. and Mrs. and Lady Middleton the same. As soon as they returned to the carriage. I am sorry Miss Marianne was not here. I assure you they are very genteel people.

we are both quite well now. and great persecutions. will set down upon a curacy of fifty pounds a-year." The next morning brought Elinor a letter by the two-penny post from Lucy herself. and would have parted for ever on the spot. and what little matter Mr. but proceed to say that.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 189 and the means that were able to be taken for promoting its end. or Mr. as I thought my duty required. he would not hear of our parting. but I know your friendship for me will make you pleased to hear such a good account of myself and my dear Edward. and finding no good comes of it. It was as follows: "Bartlett's Building.--Then they will have a child every year! and Lord help 'em! how poor they will be!--I must see what I can give them towards furnishing their house. trust she will speak a good word for us to Sir John. yourself not the least among them. and hope for the best.--My paper reminds Get any book for free on: www. and dear Mrs. Jennings too. thank God! though we have suffered dreadfully. but she did it for the best.--Poor Anne was much to blame for what she did. as will Edward too. so I say nothing. gratefully acknowledge many friends. indeed!--as I talked of t'other . they must get a stout girl of all works. March. but we must wait.--No. and my cousins would be proud to know her. while he could have my affections. Pratt can give her. am very sure you will not forget us. should she come this way any morning. I am sure you will be glad to hear. Jennings won't think it too much trouble to give us a call. we all know how THAT will end:--they will wait a twelvemonth. but however. and as happy as we must always be in one another's love. though earnestly did I. would he consent to it. "Wait for his having a living!--ay.Abika. or any friend that may be able to assist us. as likewise dear Mrs. our prospects are not very bright.-Betty's sister would never do for them NOW. he will be ordained shortly. he did not regard his mother's anger. after all the troubles we have went through lately. I spent two happy hours with him yesterday afternoon. 'twould be a great kindness. with the interest of his two thousand pounds. We have had great trials. Two maids and two men. and should it ever be in your power to recommend him to any body that has a living to bestow. and this produced from Mrs. at the same time. Steele and Mr. who I have told of it. hope Mrs. Palmer. therefore will make no more apologies. Jennings the following natural remark. but he said it should never be. urge him to it for prudence sake. no. whose great kindness I shall always thankfully remember. was all her communication. "I hope my dear Miss Dashwood will excuse the liberty I take of writing to her. Jennings. to be sure.

Palmer himself. appeared to Elinor altogether much more eligible than any other. It is as pretty a letter as ever I saw. her first reply was not very auspicious. as. and the dear children. sure enough. though detaining them from home yet a few weeks longer. Jennings. that was quite proper to let him be off if he would. I will go and see her. "Very well indeed!--how prettily she writes!--aye. Elinor was hardly less anxious than herself for their removal. and only so much less bent on its being effected immediately. with both her . &c.--Poor soul! I wish I COULD get him a living. She is a good-hearted girl as ever lived. which Marianne could not be brought to acknowledge. received a very warm invitation from Charlotte to go with them. and to Sir John. She began. the liberty. have been sufficient for the delicacy of Miss Dashwood. as that she was conscious of the difficulties of so long a journey. which. who read it aloud with many comments of satisfaction and praise. with all my heart. This would not. That sentence is very prettily turned. seriously to turn her thoughts towards its accomplishment. Jennings. Get any book for free on: www. to think of every body!--Thank you. when a plan was suggested.--Very well upon my word. "I am.--but it was inforced with so much real politeness by Mr. The Palmers were to remove to Cleveland about the end of March. the quiet of the country. however.--She calls me dear Mrs. and fancied that if any place could give her ease. How attentive she is. Jennings. induced her to accept it with pleasure. Yes. in itself. and begging to be most gratefully and respectfully remembered to her. however. and love to Miss Marianne." As soon as Elinor had finished it. for the Easter holidays. That was just like Lucy. she performed what she concluded to be its writer's real design. She sighed for the air. when you chance to see them. you see. my dear. yes. and Marianne's impatience to be gone increased every day. and does Lucy's head and heart great credit. for shewing it me.Abika. joined to the very great amendment of his manners towards them since her sister had been known to be unhappy. by placing it in the hands of Mrs. who resisted them with all the eloquence of her good-will. and Mrs." CHAPTER 39 The Miss Dashwoods had now been rather more than two months in town. and had already mentioned their wishes to their kind hostess.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 190 me to conclude. When she told Marianne what she had done. and Lady Middleton. Barton must do it.

that it is not in the neighbourhood of. that she pressed them very earnestly to return with her again from Cleveland. where I looked forward to going. 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. Elinor. I cannot go to Cleveland. it must triumph with little difficulty. Jennings's address to him when he first called on her." said Elinor gently.. though a long day's journey. by this vigorous sketch of their future ennui. which was within a few miles of Bristol. Jennings was in hopes. for though she was too honorable to listen.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 191 "Cleveland!"--she cried.--I cannot go into Somersetshire.--she only endeavoured to counteract them by working on others.--There.-and if so. they might now be at home in little more than three weeks' time.--and how forlorn we shall be. could not escape her observation. and had even changed her seat.." Elinor would not argue upon the propriety of overcoming such feelings. with great agitation. he followed her to it with a look of particular meaning.--represented it. you cannot expect me to go there. in a more eligible. The effect of his discourse on the lady too.-and Marianne found some relief in drawing up a statement of the hours that were yet to divide her from .Abika. every thing relative to their return was arranged as far as it could be. as a measure which would fix the time of her returning to that dear mother.. than any other plan could do. "that its situation is not. As Marianne's affection for her mother was sincere. to provoke him to make that offer. which might give himself an escape from it.No. on purpose that she might NOT hear. "Ah! Colonel.. Elinor was grateful for the attention. Mrs. Jennings was so far from being weary of her guest. but it could not alter her design. over the imaginary evils she had started. the distance to Barton was not beyond one day. "No. From Cleveland." "But it is in Somersetshire. which she was going to copy for her friend. I do not know what you and I shall do without the Miss Dashwoods. therefore. when I come back!--Lord! we shall sit and gape at one another as dull as two cats. whom she so much wished to see. on Elinor's moving to the window to take more expeditiously the dimensions of a print."-"You forget."--was Mrs. for. and conversed with her there for several minutes. and perhaps without any greater delay. more comfortable manner. and their mother's concurrence being readily gained. to one close by the piano forte on which Marianne Get any book for free on: www." Perhaps Mrs. she had soon afterwards good reason to think her object gained.. after their leaving her was settled--"for they are quite resolved upon going home from the Palmers.

and was too intent on what he said to pursue her employment." Mrs. and only wondered that after hearing such a sentence. when another lucky stop in Marianne's performance brought her these words in the Colonel's calm voice. the impolitic cruelty. with the utmost sang-froid. for if I understand the matter right. attended with agitation. did not seem to offend or mortify his fair companion in the least.Abika.--and Mrs. the Colonel should be able to take leave of them."--he replied.-"I am afraid it cannot take place very soon. Ferrars has suffered from his family. or attempting to divide. with great feeling. "This is very strange!--sure he need not wait to be older. "I shall always think myself very much obliged to you. some words of the Colonel's inevitably reached her ear. at his thinking it necessary to do so. in which he seemed to be apologising for the badness of his house. This set the matter beyond a doubt. in the interval of Marianne's turning from one lesson to another." said he. "Lord! what should hinder it?"--but checking her desire. "I have heard. They then talked on for a few minutes longer without her catching a syllable. that she did not think THAT any material objection. she could not keep herself from seeing that Elinor changed colour. "The cruelty. Jennings was delighted with her gratitude. "of the injustice your friend Mr. Jennings commended her in her heart for being so honest." This delay on the Colonel's side. confined herself to this silent ejaculation.-Have I been rightly informed?--Is it so?--" Elinor told him that it was. she was almost ready to cry out. and go away without making her any reply!--She had not thought her old friend could have made so indifferent a suitor. but supposed it to be the proper etiquette. Mrs. What Elinor said in reply she could not distinguish. indeed.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 192 was playing. however. and moving different ways. as he immediately did. he has been entirely cast off by them for persevering in his engagement with a very deserving young woman. but judged from the motion of her lips. What had really passed between them was to this effect. for on their breaking up the conference soon . She wondered.--"of dividing. with great compassion. Jennings very plainly heard Elinor say. and with a voice which shewed her to feel what she said." Astonished and shocked at so unlover-like a speech. Get any book for free on: www.-Still farther in confirmation of her hopes.

The preferment. and THEN it was that he mentioned with regret. I fear. now just vacant. I have seen Mr. was fixed on to bestow it!--Her emotion was such as Mrs. at least as far as regarded its size. she would have been very glad to be spared herself. I wish it still more. and am much pleased with him. so unfortunately circumstanced as he is now. of all people in the world. she could not help thinking that no one could so well perform it as himself. her esteem for the general benevolence.-Mrs. Edward. as I am informed by this day's post. however. less pleasing. which only two days before she had considered as hopeless for Edward. had the Colonel been really making her an offer of his hand. Get any book for free on: www. Will you be so good as to tell him that the living of Delaford. She could undertake therefore to inform him of it. from which. I understand that he intends to take orders. the late incumbent.-and SHE. perhaps.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 193 two young people long attached to each other. It was an office in short. unwilling to give Edward the pain of receiving an obligation from HER. Colonel Brandon began to talk of his own advantage in securing so respectable and agreeable a neighbour. which together prompted Colonel Brandon to this act. Such as it is. if he think it worth his acceptance--but THAT. it may be nonsense to appear to doubt. I only wish it were more valuable. Pray assure him of .Abika. she believed. if it were really his wish to put off so agreeable an office to another. not to such an amount as to afford him a very comfortable income. Jennings had supposed her to do.-. She thanked him for it with all her heart. in the course of the day. was still in town. He is not a young man with whom one can be intimately acquainted in a short time. After this had been settled. declining it likewise. made very light of.--but whatever minor feelings less pure.It is a rectory. Jennings had attributed to a very different cause. that the house was small and indifferent. and though it is certainly capable of improvement.-but Colonel Brandon. but I have seen enough of him to wish him well for his own sake. and as a friend of yours. my pleasure in presenting him to it. that she would not on any account make farther opposition. Ferrars two or three times in Harley Street. as Mrs. and her gratitude for the particular friendship. but a small one. But at the same time.--an evil which Elinor. spoke of Edward's principles and disposition with that praise which she knew them to deserve. and warmly expressed. still seemed so desirous of its being given through her means. Ferrars does not know what she may be doing--what she may drive her son to. and promised to undertake the commission with pleasure. was already provided to enable him to marry. and fortunately she had heard his address from Miss Steele. will be very great. is terrible. did not make more than 200 L per annum. on motives of equal delicacy. is his." Elinor's astonishment at this commission could hardly have been greater. were strongly felt. I believe. might have a share in that emotion.

What I am now doing indeed. "I cannot imagine any inconvenience to them. for it will be in proportion to their family and income. If.--at least. and my interest is hardly more extensive.--" Such was the sentence which. Jennings. if I am not as ready to be useful to him then as I sincerely wish I could be at present. there was nothing more likely to happen. you are very modest. ma'am. and I wish you joy of it with all my heart. upon my honour. Jennings." Get any book for free on: www.Abika. however. the gratitude expressed by the latter on their parting.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 194 "The smallness of the house. I could not help catching enough to understand his business." "Thank you. Ferrars's marriage as the certain consequence of the presentation. seems nothing at all. I must think very differently of him from what I now do. I TRIED to keep out of hearing. for though. His marriage must still be a distant good. And I assure you I never was better pleased in my life. "It is a matter of great joy to me. nor less properly worded than if it had arisen from an offer of ." By which the Colonel was surprised to find that SHE was considering Mr. his only object of happiness. I am sorry to say that my patronage ends with this. sagaciously smiling. I am afraid it cannot take place very soon." said Elinor." said Mrs." "Lord! my dear. Few people who have so compassionate a heart! I never was more astonished in my life. CHAPTER 40 "Well. since it can advance him so little towards what must be his principal. Ferrars comfortable as a bachelor. I an't the least astonished at it in the world. it cannot enable him to marry. so justly offended the delicate feelings of Mrs. There are not many men who would act as he has done. may perhaps appear in general. but after this narration of what really passed between Colonel Brandon and Elinor. "I do not ask you what the Colonel has been saying to you. "This little rectory CAN do no more than make Mr." said she. for I have often thought of late. as soon as the gentleman had withdrawn. by an unforeseen chance it should be in my power to serve him farther. while they stood at the window. when misunderstood. not less reasonably excited. as anybody in his style of life would venture to settle on-and he said so. and I feel the goodness of Colonel Brandon most sensibly. Miss Dashwood. for he did not suppose it possible that Delaford living could supply such an income.

my dear. A few moments' reflection. for he will of course have much to do relative to his ordination. Well. I think I shall soon know where to look for them. I wish you joy of it again and again. for I dare say your mind is too full of the matter to care for company. It is of importance that no time should be lost with him. for we shall be quite alone." Marianne had left the room before the conversation began. Jennings--"Oh! as to that. "Then you would not have me tell it to Lucy. but I shall not mention it at present to any body else. and if ever there was a happy couple in the world. ma'am. and besides." "Oh! very well." said Elinor. but at least you could not foresee that the opportunity would so very soon occur. . I must be gone before I have had half my talk out." "He spoke of its being out of repair. Ferrars was to have been written to about it in such a hurry." This speech at first puzzled Mrs. "Certainly. said.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 195 "You judged from your knowledge of the Colonel's general benevolence. Why Mr. And as to the house being a bad one. ma'am. "Aye. for I think of going as far as Holborn to-day. she could not immediately comprehend. 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. not even Lucy if you please." said Mrs. Jennings rather disappointed.-- Get any book for free on: www. and Mrs. and she exclaimed. One day's delay will not be very material. Ferrars. Jennings exceedingly. for it is as good a one as ever I saw. somehow or other he will soon find an opportunity." "Well. I shall tell Marianne of it. I do not know what the Colonel would be at. my dear. however. But. when a man has once made up his mind to such a thing.Abika. we may have it all over in the evening.-"Well. I do not ask you to go with me. with a faint smile." "Opportunity!" repeated Mrs. I think it ought not to be mentioned to any body else. produced a very happy idea. that I do. my dear." "You mean to go to Delaford after them I suppose." "No. Jennings immediately preparing to go. you must long to tell your sister all about it. I shall do THAT directly. indeed. and till I have written to Mr.

Well THAT is an odd kind of delicacy! However. when her visitor entered.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 196 "Oh. my dear." And away she went. I have not heard of any thing to please me so well since Charlotte was brought to bed.Abika. "I have just been thinking of Betty's sister. is not this rather out of character? Should not the Colonel write himself?--sure. but she equally feared to say too much or too little. and wanted to speak with him on very particular business. I am sure I can't tell. neither did she think it worth inquiring into. and she. in the midst of her perplexity. He had met Mrs. that however difficult it might be to express herself properly by letter. She is an excellent housemaid. as he came to leave his farewell card. How she should begin--how she should express herself in her note to Edward. not hearing much of what she said. my dear. till broken in on by the entrance of Edward . to be sure. 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. but returning again in a moment. ho!--I understand you. with the pen in her band. and sat deliberating over her paper. and works very well at her needle. that he rather wished any one to announce his intentions to Mr. I should be very glad to get her so good a mistress. it was at least preferable to giving the information by word of mouth. However. and therefore only replied to its conclusion. Ferrars than himself. was now all her concern." Elinor did not quite understand the beginning of Mrs.) You know your own concerns best." "And so YOU are forced to do it. had obliged him to enter. after apologising for not returning herself. Mr. Elinor had just been congratulating herself. I will not disturb you (seeing her preparing to write. and more anxious to be alone. my dear." "Certainly. ma'am. But whether she would do for a lady's maid. to force her upon this greatest exertion of all. Jennings at the door in her way to the carriage. he is the proper person. he must be ordained in readiness. Well. She had Get any book for free on: www. Ferrars is to be the man. "Colonel Brandon is so delicate a man. so much the better for him. Her astonishment and confusion were very great on his so sudden appearance. by saying that Miss Dashwood was above. So goodby. Ay. than to be mistress of the subject." replied Elinor. and I am very glad to find things are so forward between you. Jennings's speech. you will think of all that at your leisure.

with the consciousness of what she had been thinking of. and only wishes it were more valuable. Mrs. He too was much distressed. even if we had not been able to give them in person.Abika. myself. as some of the worst was over. Allow me to congratulate you on having so respectable and well-judging a friend. gathering more resolution. made her feel particularly uncomfortable for some minutes. such unthought-of information could not fail of exciting. which. that understanding you mean to take orders. Jennings was quite right in what she said.) Colonel Brandon. as he could not say it himself. "without receiving our good wishes. he made his apology in form as soon as he could say any thing. I go to Oxford tomorrow. recovering herself.--Whether he had asked her pardon for his intrusion on first coming into the room. must share. and therefore not since his knowing her to be acquainted with . and determined to get over what she so much dreaded as soon as possible. and such as might better enable you to--as might be more than a temporary accommodation to yourself--such. he has great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford now just vacant. which I was on the point of communicating by paper. "that you wished to speak with me. and all your friends. in short. I am charged with a most agreeable office (breathing rather faster than usual as she spoke. I should have been extremely sorry to leave London without seeing you and your sister. and what she had to tell him." What Edward felt. I have something of consequence to inform you of. as might establish all your views of happiness.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 197 not seen him before since his engagement became public. who was here only ten minutes ago. however. He LOOKED all the astonishment which such unexpected. "Mrs. he could not recollect. "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. Jennings told me." said he. it cannot be expected that any one else should say for him. at least I understood her so--or I certainly should not have intruded on you in such a manner." said Elinor. "Colonel Brandon!" "Yes. and likewise as a proof of his high esteem Get any book for free on: www." continued Elinor. has desired me to say. after taking a chair. but he said only these two words." "You would not have gone. and they sat down together in a most promising state of embarrassment. but determining to be on the safe side. though at the same time. especially as it will most likely be some time--it is not probable that I should soon have the pleasure of meeting you again. and to join in his wish that the living--it is about two hundred a-year--were much more considerable.

but. nor had it ever occurred to me that he might have had such a living in his . "I must hurry away then.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 198 for your general character. and his particular approbation of your behaviour on the present occasion. James Street. I have always heard him spoken of as such. so uncheerful. I owe it all." replied be. to assure him Get any book for free on: www. he may. to your own merit. upon my word." "You are very much mistaken." said he. soon afterwards. as you well know. of my family. still greater pleasure in bestowing it. and your brother I know esteems him highly. that the living was vacant. as seemed to say. I do assure you that you owe it entirely. I think. "Colonel Brandon seems a man of great worth and respectability.) it is particularly important that he SHOULD be all this. and as you will be such very near neighbours (for I understand the parsonage is almost close to the mansion-house. perhaps--indeed I know he HAS." replied Elinor. all that you have heard him to be. As a friend of mine. at least almost entirely. so earnest.Abika. for I cannot be ignorant that to you. and as if it were rather an effort. to your goodness. after Elinor had ceased to speak." "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. but when she had turned away her head. "Colonel Brandon. and in his manners perfectly the gentleman. rising from his chair. you owe nothing to my solicitation. that he might hereafter wish the distance between the parsonage and the mansion-house much greater. but she was at the same time so unwilling to appear as the benefactress of Edward. to give him those thanks which you will not allow me to give YOU." Edward made no answer. Elinor told him the number of the house. on farther acquaintance. till I understood his design. For a short time he sat deep in thought." "Indeed. I have had no hand in it. he said. and Colonel Brandon's discernment of it. with sudden consciousness. I did not even know. I am no orator." "No.--at last. gave her a look so serious. "not to find it in YOU. that she acknowledged it with hesitation. "I believe that you will find him. lodges in St. which probably contributed to fix that suspicion in his mind which had recently entered it.--I feel it--I would express it if I could--but. He is undoubtedly a sensible man." Truth obliged her to acknowledge some small share in the action.

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. her mind was so much more occupied by the important secret in her possession. by which both Get any book for free on: www. and how soon will he be ready?--For it seems all to depend upon that. .Abika. When Mrs. to reflect on her own with discontent. though she returned from seeing people whom she had never seen before. and. than the power of expressing it. how calmly you talk of it. and of whom therefore she must have a great deal to say." said Elinor. and they parted. Sure somebody else might be found that would do as well." "Lord bless you. that she reverted to it again as soon as Elinor appeared. on HIS. "I sent you up to the young man. THAT was not very likely. "Well. ma'am. recall the words and endeavour to comprehend all the feelings of Edward. Jennings. "Lord! my dear. Jennings came home. 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. and an explanation immediately took place. she sat down to reconsider the past. "When I see him again. my dear. somebody that is in orders already." "Really.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 199 that he has made me a very--an exceedingly happy man." she cried. "I know so little of these kind of forms. or the preparation necessary." "Well." And with this pleasing anticipation. "what can you be thinking of?-Why. than by anything else. Colonel Brandon's only object is to be of use to Mr. 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. of course. 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." said Elinor to herself." said Elinor. that I can hardly even conjecture as to the time. I do think it is not worth while to wait two or three months for him." Elinor did not offer to detain him. but I suppose two or three months will complete his ordination. as the door shut him out. Ferrars!" The deception could not continue after this." "Two or three months!" cried Mrs. "I shall see him the husband of Lucy." "My dear ma'am. with rather an attempt to return the same good will. Ferrars.

CHAPTER 41 Edward. who called on her again the next day with her congratulations." "But Colonel Brandon does not seem to have any idea of the living's being enough to allow them to marry. Take my word for it. the parsonage is but a small one. my dear. proceeded with his happiness to Lucy. that she was able to assure Mrs. were at least very certain. But. either present or future." "The Colonel is a ninny. Jennings most heartily in her expectation of their being all comfortably together in Delaford Parsonage before Michaelmas. but was moreover truly anxious that he should be treated as one in all worldly concerns. before Lucy goes to it. she was not only ready to worship him as a saint." Elinor was quite of her opinion. that had been used to live in Barton cottage!--It seems quite .SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 200 gained considerable amusement for the moment. and still without forfeiting her expectation of the first.Abika. after the first ebullition of surprise and satisfaction was over. was ready to own all their obligation to her. Her own happiness. and I think the housekeeper told me could make up fifteen beds!-and to you too. and her own spirits. would ever surprise her. Jennings only exchanged one form of delight for another. we must touch up the Colonel to do some thing to the parsonage." said she. without any material loss of happiness to either. and she joined Mrs. from any backwardness to give Elinor that credit which Edward WOULD give her. having carried his thanks to Colonel Brandon. "Aye. Get any book for free on: www. for she believed her capable of doing any thing in the world for those she really valued. I shall be paying a visit at Delaford Parsonage before Michaelmas. at the same time. that. "and very likely MAY be out of repair. and such was the excess of it by the time he reached Bartlett's Buildings. So far was she. if I am alive. but to hear a man apologising. anxious that his tithes should be raised to the utmost. As for Colonel Brandon. as I thought. and I am sure I sha'nt go if Lucy an't there. he thinks that nobody else can marry on less. as to the probability of their not waiting for any thing more. that she had never seen him in such spirits before in her life. for Mrs. aye. for a house that to my knowledge has five sitting rooms on the ground-floor. Jennings. because he has two thousand a-year himself. and make it comfortable for them. that she spoke of her friendship for them both with the most grateful warmth. and openly declared that no exertion for their good on Miss Dashwood's part. my dear.

and as since that time no notice had been taken by them of his wife's indisposition. The consequence was.--This was an obligation. John Dashwood. and was coming to you on purpose to enquire farther about it. Mrs." he replied. "I am not sorry to see you alone. and Mrs. so very much disliked Mrs. It was now above a week since John Dashwood had called in Berkeley Street. invited her to come in. though her carriage was always at Elinor's service. his carriage. This living of Colonel Brandon's--can it be true?--has he really given it to Edward?--I heard it yesterday by chance. NOW especially there cannot be--but however. that not even her curiosity to see how she looked after the late discovery. Dashwood was denied." "It is perfectly true." "Really!--Well. as far as she possibly could. and his poultry. nor her strong desire to affront her by taking Edward's part. for I am sure she will not have the least objection in the world to seeing YOU.-Very far from it. of his servants. indeed. at . that Elinor set out by herself to pay a visit. He expressed great pleasure in meeting Elinor. but which had not the assistance of any encouragement from her companions. Elinor began to feel it necessary to pay her a visit." said he:--"I will go to her presently. was very urgent to prevent her sister's going at all. beyond one verbal enquiry. you and Marianne were always great favourites. his cows. for which no one could really have less inclination. Jennings. not contented with absolutely refusing to go herself. this is very astonishing!--no relationship!--no connection between them!--and now that livings fetch such a price!--what was the value of this?" Get any book for free on: www. whom neither of the others had so much reason to dislike. however. could overcome her unwillingness to be in her company again. I suppose.--Why would not Marianne come?"-Elinor made what excuse she could for her. "for I have a good deal to say to you. assuring her that Fanny would be very glad to see her. and to run the risk of a tete-a-tete with a woman. told her that he had been just going to call in Berkeley Street.--Nobody was there.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 201 and scarcely resolved to avail herself. They walked up stairs in to the drawing-room. her husband accidentally came out. and. but before the carriage could turn from the house.Abika. Marianne.--Colonel Brandon has given the living of Delaford to Edward. which not only opposed her own inclination. "Fanny is in her own room.

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." Elinor contradicted it. but a man of Colonel Brandon's sense!--I wonder he should be so improvident in a point of such common.-When the marriage takes place. is she supposed to feel at all?--She has done with her son. Surely. aye. she cast him off for ever. "Mrs. and by relating that she had herself been employed in conveying the offer from Colonel Brandon to Edward. whatever Colonel Brandon may be.--Aye. that is the fact. by which neither she nor her child could be possibly impoverished. however--on recollection--that the case may probably be THIS. therefore. after doing so. Edward is only to hold the living till the person to whom the Colonel has really sold the . that she thought Fanny might have borne with composure. obliged him to submit to her authority. I suppose.--for THAT must be quite out of the question. depend upon it. and she bears it vastly well. upon her late behaviour. an acquisition of wealth to her brother. "knows nothing about it at present.--You will not mention the matter to Fanny. Edward is a very lucky man." "Well." "But why should such precaution be used?--Though it is not to be supposed that Mrs. and likely to vacate it soon--he might have got I dare say--fourteen hundred pounds. lowering his voice to the tone becoming so important a subject. very positively." added he. and. and has made all those over whom she had any influence. yet why. is old enough to take it. Ferrars can have the smallest satisfaction in knowing that her son has money enough to live upon. I fear she must hear of it all. however. "It is truly astonishing!"--he cried." "Very well--and for the next presentation to a living of that value--supposing the late incumbent to have been old and sickly. Ferrars. cast him off likewise." Elinor had some difficulty here to refrain from observing. 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.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 202 "About two hundred a year. must understand the terms on which it was given. such natural. however. I am convinced that there is a vast deal of inconsistency in almost every human character. well. for though I have broke it to her.-- Get any book for free on: www. Ferrars. concern!--Well.--she will not like to hear it much talked of. and I believe it will be best to keep it entirely concealed from her as long as may be. after hearing what she said--"what could be the Colonel's motive?" "A very simple one--to be of use to Mr.

they are both very agreeable young men: I do not know that one is superior to the . and I have it from her--That in short. Ferrars say it herself--but her daughter DID. and speaking in an awful whisper. from your manner of speaking. "of ROBERT'S marrying Miss Morton.--His reflections ended thus." "Choice!--how do you mean?" "I only mean that I suppose. calmly replied. must be concealed from her as much as possible. "your reasoning is very good. whatever objections there might be against a certain--a certain connection--you understand me--it would have been far preferable to her. because I know it must gratify you. has no choice in the affair. my dear sister.-and I WILL do it." kindly taking her hand. after a short pause. and." "You surprise me. it must be the same to Miss Morton whether she marry Edward or Robert. I was exceedingly pleased to hear that Mrs." Elinor was silent."--said Mr. or I should not repeat it. I have good reason to think--indeed I have it from the best authority. "We think NOW. it would not have given her half the vexation that THIS does. Dashwood. Get any book for free on: www." Elinor said no more. Ferrars can never forget that Edward is her son. Ferrars is one of the most affectionate mothers in the world. 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. "The lady." Elinor. "Of ONE thing. smiling at the grave and decisive importance of her brother's tone. Mrs. for Robert will now to all intents and purposes be considered as the eldest son.--"I may assure you. therefore every circumstance that may accelerate that dreadful event. I suppose. and John was also for a short time silent. but it is founded on ignorance of human nature." said John.--and as to any thing else. Mrs. I should think it must nearly have escaped her memory by THIS time. there can be no difference." "You wrong her exceedingly. depend upon it his mother will feel as much as if she had never discarded him.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 203 She would not be so weak as to throw away the comfort of a child." "Certainly.Abika. Ferrars considered it in that light-a very gratifying circumstance you know to us all. and yet retain the anxiety of a parent!" "Ah! Elinor. When Edward's unhappy match takes place.

perhaps.Abika. upon my soul. however. diverted him beyond measure.' she said. He laughed most immoderately. all things considered. it is a most serious business. at last. though very different. 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 by his own sensibility. and publishing the banns of marriage between John Smith and Mary Brown. or better. John Dashwood. It was a look. as well-meaning a fellow perhaps. They had scarcely been two minutes by themselves. Poor Edward! he is ruined for ever. by the gay unconcern. Get any book for free on: www. my dear Elinor. and Elinor was left to improve her acquaintance with Robert. as any in the world. was confirming her most unfavourable opinion of his head and heart. Not that you have any reason to regret. very well bestowed. He was recalled from wit to wisdom. could not restrain her eyes from being fixed on him with a look that spoke all the contempt it excited. and gave no intelligence to him. recovering from the affected laugh which had considerably lengthened out the genuine gaiety of the moment--"but. There is no doubt of your doing exceedingly well--quite as well.--and she was therefore glad to be spared from the necessity of saying much in reply herself. who. was not less striking than it had been on HIM. the conclusion of such folly. because I knew how much it must please you.' But however. and their effect on Robert. Robert Ferrars. Elinor repeated the particulars of it. if not to gratify her vanity. After a few moments' chat. too. Has Colonel Brandon been with you lately?" Elinor had heard enough. the happy self-complacency of his manner while enjoying so unfair a division of his mother's love and liberality. by the entrance of Mr. to the prejudice of his banished brother. for it relieved her own ." said he. "We may treat it as a joke. and she would be glad to compound NOW for nothing worse. and living in a small parsonage-house. The idea of Edward's being a clergyman. 'the least evil of the two. while she waited in silence and immovable gravity. he could conceive nothing more ridiculous. before he began to speak of Edward. and was very inquisitive on the subject.--and when to that was added the fanciful imagery of Edward reading prayers in a white surplice. recollecting that Fanny was yet uninformed of her sister's being there. not by any reproof of her's. earned only by his own dissipated course of life.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 204 'It would have been beyond comparison. and from the danger of hearing any thing more from her brother. as she had given them to John. had heard of the living. for he. But I thought I would just tell you of this. and that brother's integrity. Elinor. to agitate her nerves and fill her mind. quitted the room in quest of her. and raise her self-importance. I am extremely sorry for it-for I know him to be a very good-hearted creature.

Miss Dashwood.-My mother was the first person who told me of it. as soon as my mother related the affair to me. for unluckily. and I saw quite enough of her. The merest awkward country girl. when the entrance of Mrs. 'consider what you are doing. immediately said to her. I could not believe it.' That was what I said immediately.' I should have said. while she was staying in this house. I certainly should have represented it to Edward in a very strong light. from his style of education. and almost without beauty. that if Edward does marry this young woman.--the same address. as when it all burst forth.Abika. you know. and I. and knew nothing of it till after the breach had taken place. in short. Get any book for free on: www. but as for myself. I found." "Have you ever seen the lady?" "Yes. to do any thing.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 205 You must not judge of him.-that is certain. you know. and such a one as your family are unanimous in disapproving. I was not in the way at first. as I directly said to my mother. as she had hoped to see more of them. My poor mother was half frantic. and an attempt at cordiality in her behaviour to herself. I am not in the least surprised at it. But now it is all too late.-Poor fellow!--to see him in a circle of strangers!-to be sure it was pitiable enough!--but upon my soul. I offered immediately. I believe he has as good a heart as any in the kingdom. from YOUR slight acquaintance. 'My dear fellow. and dissuade him from the match. when it was not for me. once. it was always to be . feeling myself called on to act with resolution. John Dashwood put an end to the subject.--Poor Edward!--His manners are certainly not the happiest in nature. 'My dear madam. Elinor could see its influence on her mind. I do not know what you may intend to do on the occasion. or elegance. You are making a most disgraceful connection. that means might have been found. with the same powers. who attended her into the room.--an exertion in which her husband. in the something like confusion of countenance with which she entered. absolutely starved.' I cannot help thinking." He had just settled this point with great composure.-I was most uncommonly shocked. indeed!--Poor Edward!--he has done for himself completely--shut himself out for ever from all decent society!--but. He must be starved. But though SHE never spoke of it out of her own family. to interfere. without style.--But we are not all born. but it was too late THEN. 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 must say. and I declare and protest to you I never was so shocked in my life. I happened to drop in for ten minutes. I never will see him again. She even proceeded so far as to be concerned to find that Elinor and her sister were so soon to leave town.-I remember her perfectly. Just the kind of girl I should suppose likely to captivate poor Edward. to talk to him myself. you know.

busy in new engagements. in which Elinor received her brother's congratulations on their travelling so far towards Barton without any expense.--and a faint invitation from Fanny. to come to Norland whenever it should happen to be in their way. though less public. for not only was it considered as her future home by her brother and Mrs.--a place. She had no such object for her lingering thoughts to fix on. and she looked forward with hope to what a few months of tranquility at Barton might do towards restoring Get any book for free on: www. when it came to the point. and tolerably early in the day. For the convenience of Charlotte and her child. the two parties from Hanover Square and Berkeley Street set out from their respective homes. in Willoughby. completed the intercourse of the brother and sisters in town. she was pleased to be free herself from the persecution of Lucy's friendship. assurance. but even Lucy. to meet. could not. she left no creature behind. on the road. It amused her to observe that all her friends seemed determined to send her to Delaford. Palmer. from whom it would give her a moment's regret to be divided for ever. was more positive. was to join them at Cleveland soon after their arrival. they were to be more than two days on their journey. which of all things was the most unlikely to occur. and on Colonel Brandon's being to follow them to Cleveland in a day or two. or wish to reside. without shedding many tears. without great pain. bid adieu to the house in which she had for the last time enjoyed those hopes. and that confidence. CHAPTER 42 One other short call in Harley Street. when they parted. 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.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 206 and hung enamoured over her accents. few as had been her hours of comfort in London. gave her a pressing invitation to visit her there. and eager as she had long been to quit it. she would now least chuse to visit. Elinor's satisfaction.Abika. Nor could she leave the place in which Willoughby remained. Jennings. Very early in April. which were now extinguished for ever. at the moment of removal. by appointment. Marianne. and Mr. in which. she was grateful for bringing her sister away unseen by Willoughby since his marriage. travelling more expeditiously with Colonel Brandon. in which SHE could have no share. and new schemes. with a more warm. seemed to distinguish every thing that was most affectionate and graceful. of all .

--and in visiting her poultry-yard. interspersed with tall Lombardy poplars. examining the bloom upon its walls. and the rest of the morning was easily whiled away. and a thick screen of them altogether. or being stolen by a fox. while the others were busily helping Charlotte to show her child to the housekeeper. and before she had been five minutes within its walls. It had no park. shut out the offices. and like every other place of the same degree of importance. of wandering from place to place in free and luxurious solitude. on an excursion through its more immediate . Get any book for free on: www. from its Grecian temple. and confirming her own. and as she returned by a different circuit to the house. and not thirty from Combe Magna. in dawdling through the green-house. situated on a sloping lawn. and the acacia. in the disappointed hopes of her dairy-maid. where the loss of her favourite plants. feeling all the happy privilege of country liberty. she found fresh sources of merriment. raised the laughter of Charlotte. the lawn was dotted over with timber. and closer wood walk. Marianne entered the house with a heart swelling with emotion from the consciousness of being only eighty miles from Barton. in lounging round the kitchen garden. unwarily exposed. to gain a distant eminence. or the prohibited. and nipped by the lingering frost. it had its open shrubbery. by hens forsaking their nests. The second day brought them into the cherished.Abika. the mountain-ash. wandering over a wide tract of country to the south-east. she rejoiced in tears of agony to be at Cleveland. She returned just in time to join the others as they quitted the house. Their journey was safely performed. led to the front. in the indulgence of such solitary rambles. and fancy that from their summits Combe Magna might be seen. could fondly rest on the farthest ridge of hills in the horizon. her eye. In such moments of precious. but the pleasure-grounds were tolerably extensive. or in the rapid decrease of a promising young brood. a road of smooth gravel winding round a plantation. she resolved to spend almost every hour of every day while she remained with the Palmers. 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. where. invaluable misery. the house itself was under the guardianship of the fir.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 207 Marianne's peace of mind. county of Somerset. modern-built house. she quitted it again. where. and listening to the gardener's lamentations upon blights. now just beginning to be in beauty. stealing away through the winding shrubberies.

joined in their discourse. and Elinor could have forgiven every thing but her laugh. and in that little had seen so much variety in his address to her sister and herself. in her plan of employment abroad. Elinor. and idled away the mornings at billiards.Abika. however little concerned in it. Jennings her carpet-work. recommended by so pretty a face.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 208 The morning was fine and dry. had not calculated for any change of weather during their stay at Cleveland. because it was not conceited. Mrs. Get any book for free on: www. upon the whole. and in her heart was not sorry that she could like him no more. by too great an aptitude to fancy himself as much superior to people in general. which a long morning of the same continued rain had reduced very low. Palmer had her child. perfectly the gentleman in his behaviour to all his visitors. who had the knack of finding her way in every house to the library. Nothing was wanting on Mrs. though evident was not . and Marianne. For the rest of his character and habits. uncertain in his hours. however it might be avoided by the family in general. however. Their party was small. that she knew not what to expect to find him in his own family. and only prevented from being so always. and Marianne. Elinor had seen so little of Mr. 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. did she find herself prevented by a settled rain from going out again after dinner. as far as Elinor could perceive. to make them feel themselves welcome. her folly. She found him. and the hours passed quietly away. and only occasionally rude to his wife and her mother. He was nice in his eating. but a heavy and settled rain even SHE could not fancy dry or pleasant weather for walking. her kindness. The two gentlemen arrived the next day to a very late dinner. Palmer and Colonel Brandon would get farther than Reading that night. and a very welcome variety to their conversation. affording a pleasant enlargement of the party. and an evening merely cold or damp would not have deterred her from it. she found him very capable of being a pleasant companion. soon procured herself a book. Palmer. She liked him. they talked of the friends they had left behind. Palmer's side that constant and friendly good humour could do. fond of his child. though affecting to slight it. with no traits at all unusual in his sex and time of life. as he must feel himself to be to Mrs. She had depended on a twilight walk to the Grecian temple. however. and wondered whether Mr.-not sorry to be driven by the observation of his Epicurism. which ought to have been devoted to business. much better than she had expected. arranged Lady Middleton's engagements. With great surprise therefore. they were marked. Jennings and Charlotte. was engaging. and perhaps all over the grounds. and Mrs.

Though heavy and feverish. and told her what he meant to do himself towards removing them. and she could not help believing herself the nicest observer of the two. by engaging in her accustomary employments. where the trees were the oldest. and needless alarm of a lover.--His behaviour to her in this. had--assisted by the still greater imprudence of sitting in her wet shoes and stockings--given Marianne a cold so violent as. and who. except by Mrs. the beginning of a heavy cold. and it was with difficulty that Elinor prevailed on her. as well as in every other particular. and the kind of confidant of himself. and would have been enough.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 209 his selfishness. and the grass was the longest and wettest. to rest with complacency on the remembrance of Edward's generous temper. Jennings thought only of his behaviour. when she went to bed.Abika. treating her at once as the disinterested friend of . his readiness to converse with her. would force itself by increasing ailments on the concern of every body. to every inquiry replied that she was better. and a cough. such a notion had scarcely ever entered her head. but all over the grounds. with a pain in her limbs. described its deficiencies. entirely escaped the latter lady's observation. a good night's rest was to cure her entirely. Prescriptions poured in from all quarters. Two delighful twilight walks on the third and fourth evenings of her being there. and a sore throat. believed Marianne his real favourite. because unexpressed by words. Of Edward. talked to her a great deal of the parsonage at Delaford. might very well justify Mrs. and as usual. or at least of some of his concerns. Jennings's suggestion. in her head and throat. were all declined. had not Elinor still. who had been into Dorsetshire lately. and his deference for her opinion. Get any book for free on: www. to try one or two of the simplest of the remedies. as from the first.--she watched his eyes. CHAPTER 43 Marianne got up the next morning at her usual time. she now received intelligence from Colonel Brandon. and diffident feelings.--and while his looks of anxious solicitude on Marianne's feeling. where there was something more of wildness than in the rest. while Mrs. and tried to prove herself so. though for a day or two trifled with or denied.--SHE could discover in them the quick feelings. to make her suspect it herself. and his conceit. simple taste. and especially in the most distant parts of them. and the notice of herself. not merely on the dry gravel of the shrubbery. But as it was. perhaps. his open pleasure in meeting her after an absence of only ten days. Jennings's persuasion of his attachment. Ferrars.

He came. A very restless and feverish night. Elinor was very ready to adopt Mrs. by pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid tendency. for on that day they were to have begun their journey home. now looked very grave on Mr. at her earnest entreaty. against Marianne inclination. to the certainty and efficacy of sleep. Poor Marianne. she set off. but for this unlucky illness. and Elinor found her on every occasion a most willing and active helpmate. like Marianne. attended the whole way by a servant of Mrs. Jennings. yet. desirous to share in all her fatigues. urged the necessity of her immediate removal with her infant.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 210 But a day spent in sitting shivering over the fire with a book in her hand. confessed herself unable to sit up. and. Jennings's advice. trusted. and felt no real alarm. who lived a few miles on the other side of Bath. who had been inclined from the first to think Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor. Harris's arrival. or in lying. at last. who. could no longer hope that tomorrow would find her recovered. more and more indisposed. Mrs. and Mr.Abika. Harris's report. and returned voluntarily to her bed. disappointed the expectation of both. did not speak much in favour of her amendment. though treating their apprehensions as idle. however. Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her sister's composure. she went early to bed. of material use. with a kindness of heart which made Elinor really love her. and confirming Charlotte's fears and caution. gave instant alarm to Mrs. of sending for the Palmers' apothecary. examined his patient. weary and languid. and of endeavouring. after persisting in rising. to supply to her the place of the mother she had taken her from. which she was unable to read. found the anxiety and importunity of his wife too great to be withstood. though Elinor tried Get any book for free on: www. and though encouraging Miss Dashwood to expect that a very few days would restore her sister to health. languid and low from the nature of her . The little she said was all in lamentation of this inevitable delay. was fixed on. Jennings. however. were to have taken their mother by surprise on the following forenoon. and whither she was almost equally urgent with her mother to accompany her. and forcing proper medicines on her at night. and allowing the word "infection" to pass his lips. Jennings. on a sofa. on her baby's account. Mrs. though attending and nursing her the whole day. Palmer's. Palmer. and within an hour after Mr. to join her in a day or two. and when Marianne. and when. and often by her better experience in nursing. by her own attentive care. with her little boy and his nurse. whither her husband promised. Her departure. therefore. Palmer. for the house of a near relation of Mr. declared her resolution of not stirring from Cleveland as long as Marianne remained ill. made every ailment severe. and feeling herself universally ill. and the idea of what tomorrow would have produced.

Abika. except that there was no amendment. was not in a state of mind to resist their influence. the kindness of Mrs. and while he was preparing to go. that it would be a very short one. It gave her no surprise that she saw nothing of Mrs. and Miss Dashwood was equally sanguine. He tried to reason himself out of fears. On the morning of the third day however. that he. who seemed to feel a relief to himself. who attended her every . he declared his patient materially better. of every comfort. and as it gave her likewise no concern. would be to deprive them both. who was chiefly of use in listening to Mrs. Palmer's departure. she never mentioned her name. began to talk of going likewise. but the expectation of the others was by no means so cheerful. Their party was now farther reduced. and every symptom more favourable Get any book for free on: www.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 211 to raise her spirits. still talked boldly of a speedy recovery. Marianne was. were but too favourable for the admission of every melancholy idea. Colonel Brandon himself. She knew not that she had been the means of sending the owners of Cleveland away. Jennings had determined very early in the seizure that Marianne would never get over it. she certainly was not better. with little variation. with a much greater exertion. Jennings's entreaty was warmly seconded by Mr. the same. though very unwilling to go as well from real humanity and good-nature. and her situation continued. Palmer. Her pulse was much stronger. in about seven days from the time of their arrival. Harris. as she THEN really believed herself. but the many hours of each day in which he was left entirely alone. for when Mr. Harris arrived. The next day produced little or no alteration in the state of the patient. Jennings interposed most acceptably. the gloomy anticipations of both were almost done away. Mr.--Here. for to send the Colonel away while his love was in so much uneasiness on her sister's account. Mrs. Palmer. while Miss Dashwood was above with her sister. she thought. was persuaded at last by Colonel Brandon to perform his promise of following her. however. Two days passed away from the time of Mr. she urged him so strongly to remain. did not appear worse. and. which the different judgment of the apothecary seemed to render absurd. &c. who was gratifying the first wish of his own heart by a compliance. and therefore telling him at once that his stay at Cleveland was necessary to herself. Palmer. that she should want him to play at piquet of an evening. kept in ignorance of all these arrangements. especially as Mrs. and Colonel Brandon. as from a dislike of appearing to be frightened away by his wife. and make her believe. and he could not expel from his mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more. Jennings's forebodings. in leaving behind him a person so well able to assist or advise Miss Dashwood in any emergence. could not long even affect to demur. of course. for Mr.

and heard the frequent but inarticulate sounds of complaint which passed her lips. started hastily up. who was one of the principal nurses.-"Is mama coming?--" "Not yet. Elinor. and Elinor remained alone with Marianne. concealing her terror. lasted a considerable time. restless. Her sister. It is a great way. and. in making very light of the indisposition which delayed them at Cleveland. Her sleep.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 212 than on the preceding visit. and almost fixing on the time when Marianne would be able to travel.-Towards the evening Marianne became ill again. and. if she goes by London. was almost wishing to rouse her from so painful a slumber. "but she will be here. you know. sink at last into a slumber. "I shall never see her. from which she expected the most beneficial effects." cried Marianne. as to determine her on sending instantly for Mr. and carefully administering the cordials prescribed. her alarm increased so rapidly. and as soon she had rung up the maid to take her place by her sister. was all cheerfulness. still talking wildly of mama. I hope. and her sister. Harris. Jennings. cried out. suddenly awakened by some accidental noise in the house. with satisfaction. saw her. growing more heavy. her maid. Mrs. and assisting Marianne to lie down again. when Marianne.Abika." Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not quite herself. The repose of the latter became more and more disturbed." cried the other. still sanguine. Get any book for free on: www. and anxious to observe the result of it herself. who watched. went unusually early to bed. knowing nothing of any change in the patient. however." "But she must not go round by London. eagerly felt her pulse. confirmed in every pleasant hope. To consult with Colonel Brandon on the best means of effecting the latter. was willing to attribute the change to nothing more than the fatigue of having sat up to have her bed made. she had pursued her own judgment rather than her friend's. with feverish wildness. rejoicing that in her letters to her mother. though not so quiet as Elinor wished to see it. It was lower and quicker than ever! and Marianne. and uncomfortable than before. in the same hurried manner. was recreating herself in the housekeeper's room. and despatching a messenger to Barton for her mother. was a thought which immediately followed the resolution of its performance. before it is long. while attempting to soothe . with unremitting attention her continual change of posture. But the day did not close so auspiciously as it began. she resolved to sit with her during the whole of it. she hastened down to the drawing-room. from hence to Barton.

reproaching herself for having trifled with so many days of illness. that every thing had been delayed too long. before Mr. whose attendance must relieve. Her apprehensions once raised. HE. Elinor made no resistance that was not easily . he had no courage. Harris. Dashwood. and she returned to her sister's apartment to wait for the arrival of the apothecary.Abika. It was no time for hesitation. Not a moment was lost in delay of any kind.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 213 where she knew he was generally to be found at a much later hour than the present. and the service pre-arranged in his mind. It was a night of almost equal suffering to both. and in the most cruel anxiety on Elinor's. would lessen it. acted with all the firmness of a collected mind. and a few words spoken too low to reach her ear. and whenever she mentioned her name. at intervals. Harris appeared. his presence. she wrote a few lines to her mother. Her fears and her difficulties were immediately before him. he offered himself as the messenger who should fetch Mrs. his manners. for she would not allow Mrs. and calculated with exactness the time in which she might look for his return. for with a readiness that seemed to speak the occasion. and pictured to herself her suffering mother arriving too late to see this darling child.--but her difficulties were instantly obviated. and an order for post-horses directly. meanwhile. It was then about twelve o'clock. and wretched for some immediate relief. paid by their excess for all her former security. and while he went to hurry off his servant with a message to Mr. whatever he might feel. Marianne's ideas were still. Hour after hour passed away in sleepless pain and delirium on Marianne's side. only tortured her more. Harris. and Colonel Brandon only pressing her hand with a look of solemnity. Jennings to be called. and whose friendship might soothe her!--as far as the shock of such a summons COULD be lessened to her. The horses arrived. his assistance. made every necessary arrangement with the utmost despatch. even before they were expected. hurried into the carriage. She was on the point of sending again for Mr. Get any book for free on: www. Her fears. fixed incoherently on her mother. though fervent gratitude. She thanked him with brief. The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel Brandon--or such a companion for her mother. who. and to watch by her the rest of the night. fancied that all relief might soon be in vain. or to see her rational. by hints of what her mistress had always thought.--how gratefully was it felt!--a companion whose judgment would guide. no confidence to attempt the removal of:-he listened to them in silent despondence. it gave a pang to the heart of poor Elinor. and the servant who sat up with her.

left her no doubt of the event. and more than all.--the fever was unabated. however.-but he came to be disappointed in his hopes of what the last would produce. Harris was punctual in his second visit. was communicated to Elinor. he would not allow the danger to be material. and talked of the relief which a fresh mode of treatment must procure.Abika. the early death of a girl so young. for though acknowledging a very unexpected and unpleasant alteration in his patient. He promised to call again in the course of three or four hours. except when she thought of her . and with many reproaches for not being called to their aid. with a confidence which. however. With strong concern. now with greater reason restored. did Mrs. and in this state she continued till noon. when Mrs. On Mrs. her sympathy in HER sufferings was very sincere. for some other advice. and her spirits oppressed to the utmost by the conversation of Mrs. catching all. her thoughts wandering from one image of grief. to hope she could perceive Get any book for free on: www. The rapid decay. she began--but with a caution--a dread of disappointment which for some time kept her silent. and long unhappy. her conviction of her sister's danger would not allow her to offer the comfort of hope. and it gave fresh misery to her reflections. Mr. who scrupled not to attribute the severity and danger of this attack to the many weeks of previous indisposition which Marianne's disappointment had brought on. was before her. in a lesser degree. so lovely as Marianne. and though trying to speak comfort to Elinor. She was calm. Jennings considered that Marianne might probably be to HER what Charlotte was to herself. Elinor. when the former--but not till after five o'clock--arrived. and Marianne only more quiet--not more herself--remained in a heavy stupor. Elinor felt all the reasonableness of the idea.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 214 or if HE could not come. scarcely stirring from her sister's bed. some more fresh application. Her heart was really grieved. But he judged it unnecessary: he had still something more to try. made some little amends for his delay. and she was known to have been greatly injured. of whose success he was as confident as the last. must have struck a less interested person with concern. His medicines had failed. Jennings hear in the morning of what had passed. and left both the patient and her anxious attendant more composed than he had found them. She had been for three months her companion. his fears in a moment. but she was almost hopeless. Her former apprehensions. particularly a favourite. His opinion. Jennings.--and as for their mother. About noon. and his visit concluded with encouraging assurances which reached the ear. one suffering friend to another. was still under her care. but could not enter the heart of Miss Dashwood. The distress of her sister too. even to her friend--to fancy. Jennings's compassion she had other claims. proposed to call in further advice.

was an idea to fill her heart with sensations of exquisite comfort. told herself likewise not to hope. calming every fear. gaze. Her breath. Harris at four o'clock. and the favourable symptom yet blessed her.-but it lead to no outward demonstrations of joy. and expand it in fervent gratitude. the probability of an entire recovery. allowed herself to trust in his judgment. All within Elinor's breast was satisfaction. no smiles. Others even arose to confirm it. and examined it again and again. Her joy was of a different kind. with little intermission the whole afternoon. with an agitation more difficult to bury under exterior calmness. though languid. conning over every injunction of distrust. and Marianne fixed her eyes on her with a rational.--and at last. Jennings. to acknowledge a temporary revival. Anxiety and hope now oppressed her in equal degrees.-and Elinor. and left her no moment of tranquillity till the arrival of Mr.Abika. At ten o'clock. occur to remind her of what anxiety was-but when she saw. his felicitations on a recovery in her sister even surpassing his expectation. on her frequent and minute examination. watched. silent and strong.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 215 a slight amendment in her sister's pulse. She continued by the side of her sister. and he declared her entirely out of danger. comfort. The Colonel. and to her doting mother. satisfying every inquiry of her enfeebled spirits. her lips.--when his assurances. sleep. gave her confidence. ventured to communicate her hopes. and saw Marianne at six o'clock sink into a quiet. and to all appearance comfortable. The possibility of a relapse would of course. Marianne restored to life. and watching almost every look and every breath. her skin. when Colonel Brandon might be expected back. tried to keep her young friend from indulging a thought of its continuance. Jennings. all flattered Elinor with signs of . The time was now drawing on. Marianne was in every respect materially better. or at least not much later her mother would be relieved from the dreadful suspense in which she must now be travelling towards them. health. and led to any thing rather than to gaiety. and admitted.--she waited. she bent over her sister to watch--she hardly knew for what. and tears of joy. no words. than all her foregoing distress. But it was too late. too!--perhaps scarcely less an object of pity!--Oh!--how slow was the progress of time which yet kept them in ignorance! Get any book for free on: www. Elinor could not be cheerful. on examination. with unfeigned joy. friends. Half an hour passed away. supplying every succour. steady. and soon with unequivocal cheerfulness. that every symptom of recovery continued. Mrs. perhaps satisfied with the partial justification of her forebodings which had been found in their late alarm. Hope had already entered. in some moments. and feeling all its anxious flutter. she silenced every doubt. she trusted. Mrs. though forced.

and retired to her own room to write letters and sleep. The night was cold and stormy. to take some rest before her mother's arrival. at its conclusion.--and saw only Willoughby. and so strong was the persuasion that she DID.-and the present refreshment. as she passed along an inner lobby. as at that moment. was particularly welcome.--she entered it. The flaring lamps of a carriage were immediately in view. and. Of breakfast she had been kept by her fears. leaving Marianne still sweetly asleep. gave some explanation to such unexpected rapidity. and this. The bustle in the vestibule. that she moved into the adjoining dressing-closet and opened a window shutter. in spite of the ALMOST impossibility of their being already come. left her there again to her charge and her thoughts. to satisfy herself that all continued right. she joined Mrs. but . She rushed to the drawing-room. for every present inconvenience. Jennings would have persuaded her. assured her that they were already in the house. Marianne slept through every blast. to be satisfied of the truth. and the travellers-they had a rich reward in store. and allow HER to take her place by Marianne. Never in her life had Elinor found it so difficult to be calm. The wind roared round the house. The knowledge of what her mother must be feeling as the carriage stopt at the door-of her doubt--her dread--perhaps her despair!--and of what SHE had to tell!--with such knowledge it was impossible to be calm. She instantly saw that her ears had not deceived her. and she was not to be kept away from her sister an unnecessary instant. and the rain beat against the windows. By their uncertain light she thought she could discern it to be drawn by four horses. therefore. Mrs. Elinor would have been convinced that at that moment she heard a carriage driving up to the house. Jennings therefore attending her up stairs into the sick chamber. Had it been ten. she hurried down stairs. The clock struck eight. All that remained to be done was to be speedy. all happiness within. therefore staying only till she could leave Mrs. and of dinner by their sudden reverse. but Elinor had no sense of fatigue. no capability of sleep at that moment about her. while it told the excess of her poor mother's alarm. from eating much. regarded it not.Abika. CHAPTER 44 Get any book for free on: www. Mrs. Jennings's maid with her sister. with such feelings of content as she brought to it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 216 At seven o'clock. Jennings in the drawing-room to tea.

God be praised!--But is it true? is it really true?" Elinor would not speak. a moment afterwards--"is out of danger. forgot to tell you that Mr. when its action was suspended by his hastily advancing. for half an hour--for ten minutes-I entreat you to stay. and her curiosity no less than her honor was engaged. Palmer and all his relations were at the devil. she knew not what to do." he cried with vehemence. My business is with you. impatiently." said he. "Miss Dashwood. and her hand was already on the lock. and I will be both. and for half a minute not a word was said by either." "Sit down. sir. in a voice rather of command than supplication."--speaking with a forced vivacity as he returned to his seat--"what does it signify?--For once. I suppose. sir. The possibility of Colonel Brandon's arriving and finding her . Get any book for free on: www. Palmer was not in the house. and only you.Abika. she walked silently towards the table." "No. "Your sister. concluding that prudence required dispatch. and that her acquiescence would best promote it. I heard it from the servant. and walked across the room." "With me!"--in the utmost amazement--"well. "Had I known as much half an hour ago--But since I AM here. and seemed not to hear her. and sat down. with abruptness. came across her.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 217 Elinor. He took the opposite chair." She hesitated. But she had promised to hear him." He was sitting in an attitude of deep meditation. sir. with yet greater eagerness. Your business cannot be with ME. "that Mr. obeyed the first impulse of her heart in turning instantly to quit the room." "Had they told me. The servants." she replied with firmness. starting back with a look of horror at the sight of him. "Pray be quick. After a moment's recollection." He rose up. He repeated the inquiry "For God's sake tell me.-"I have no time to spare. it would not have turned me from the door. "I shall NOT stay. is she out of danger."--said Elinor. and saying. therefore.-be quick--and if you can--less violent. or is she not?" "We hope she is.

" he replied. and of such manners. She began to think that be must be in liquor. that though I have been always a blockhead. Willoughby. with an expressive smile. perhaps--let us be cheerful together. for the past. and a voice perfectly calm. and with this impression she immediately rose. and by convincing you. that whatever other unpardonable folly might bring him to Cleveland. that you mean by it?"-"I mean. you may be satisfied already."--was his answer." "Is this the real reason of your coming?" "Upon my soul it is. convincing Elinor. with serious energy--"if I can. some kind of apology.-Whatever your business may be with me. she said. to make you hate me one degree less than you do NOW.-A pint of porter with my cold beef at Marlborough was enough to over-set me. to open my whole heart to you. "Yes. I advise you at present to return to Combe--I am not at leisure to remain with you longer. seemed no otherwise intelligible. and forcing yourself upon my notice. to obtain something like forgiveness from Ma--from your sister."--said he.--the strangeness of such a visit. and the only ten minutes I have spent out of my chaise since that time procured me a nuncheon at Marlborough. and in spite of herself made her think him sincere. "yes.--I am in a fine mood for gaiety. and I certainly DO--that after what has passed--your coming here in this manner." The steadiness of his manner." "At Marlborough!"--cried Elinor. you OUGHT to feel. he was not brought there by intoxication. Willoughby. I mean to offer some kind of explanation. with a warmth which brought all the former Willoughby to her remembrance. I have not been always a rascal.-for Marianne DOES--she has LONG forgiven you. requires a very particular excuse. " ." "I understand you. saying.-Tell me honestly"--a deeper glow overspreading his cheeks-"do you think me most a knave or a fool?" Elinor looked at him with greater astonishment than ever. after a moment's recollection.Abika. "If that is all. "Mr.--I left London this morning at eight o'clock. will it be better recollected and explained to-morrow.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 218 Miss Dashwood--it will be the last time." Get any book for free on: www. I am very drunk.--What is it. and the intelligence of his eye as he spoke. more and more at a loss to understand what he would be at.

or for me to listen any longer. no other view in the acquaintance than to pass my time pleasantly while I was obliged to remain in Devonshire.--"how YOU may have accounted for my behaviour to your sister. more pleasantly than I had ever done before. and though the death of my old cousin. When I first became intimate in your family. Such a beginning as this cannot be followed by any thing.--it is worth the trial however. had added to my debts. But have I ever known it?--Well may it be doubted. without any design of returning her affection. Mrs.--But one thing may be said for me: even in that horrid state of selfish vanity." "I insist on you hearing the whole of it.--NOW will you listen to me?" Elinor bowed her assent.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 219 "Has she?"--he cried. was of a kind--It is astonishing. I did not know the extent of the injury I meditated. when I reflect on what it was. even of yours. Mr." Miss Dashwood. for you to relate. and her behaviour to me almost from the first. Every year since my coming of age. Willoughby.--and with a meanness. or even before. "My fortune was never large. selfishness. trying to engage her regard. that my heart should have been so insensible! But at first I must confess. because I did not THEN know what it was to love. "I do not know. and on more reasonable grounds. I endeavoured. at this point. without a thought of returning it. and thoughtfulness on his own. Smith. Miss Dashwood. and you shall hear every thing.-"Then she has forgiven me before she ought to have done it. by every means in my power. "It is hardly worth while. by saying. was to set me free. I had no other intention.-Perhaps you will hardly think the better of me. giving way to feelings which I had always been too much in the habit of .-Do not let me be pained by hearing any thing more on the subject. had I Get any book for free on: www. Your sister's lovely person and interesting manners could not but please me. Careless of her happiness." said he. to make myself pleasing to her. was not a thing to be thought of. cruelty-which no indignant. for. in the same eager tone. But she shall forgive me again. yet that event being uncertain. To attach myself to your sister. and I had always been expensive." he replied. my vanity only was elevated by it. or what diabolical motive you may have imputed to me. can ever reprobate too much--I was acting in this manner.Abika. thinking only of my own amusement. I believe. after a pause of expectation on her side. and possibly far distant. no contemptuous look. always in the habit of associating with people of better income than myself. it had been for some time my intention to re-establish my circumstances by marrying a woman of fortune. and what SHE was. turning her eyes on him with the most angry contempt. therefore. stopped him.

and openly assure her of an affection which I had already taken such pains to display. looking at her with an heightened colour and an enquiring eye--"your particular intimacy--you have probably heard the whole story long ago. And how you will explain away any part of your guilt in that dreadful business. a connection--but I need not explain myself farther. A discovery took place. of an affair. and I had determined. and my feelings blameless. to avarice?--or. "believe yourself at one time attached to her?" "To have resisted such attractions. I confess is beyond my comprehension. SHE must be a saint. the moment of doing it. I allowed myself most improperly to put off. and the happiest hours of my life were what I spent with her when I felt my intentions were strictly honourable. by insensible degrees. when fully determined on paying my addresses to her. to have withstood such tenderness!--Is there a man on earth who could have done it?--Yes. But in the interim--in the interim of the very few hours that were to pass. "from whom you received the account. and because I was a libertine. Smith had somehow or other been informed. however. and with it all my comfort. I imagine by some distant relation. however. my resolution was taken. which her affection and her society would have deprived of all its horrors. "I have heard it all.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 220 really loved.--"Mrs. The event has proved. providing with great circumspection for a possible opportunity of making myself contemptible and wretched for ever. could I have sacrificed my feelings to vanity. I will not reason here--nor will I stop for YOU to expatiate on the absurdity." cried Willoughby. At last."--here he hesitated and looked down. To avoid a comparative poverty. sincerely fond of her.Abika. but at the same time cannot leave you to suppose that I have nothing to urge--that because she was injured she was irreproachable." he added." "I have. as soon as I could engage her alone. I do not mean to justify myself." "Remember. to justify the attentions I had so invariably paid her. from an unwillingness to enter into an engagement while my circumstances were so greatly embarrassed. of scrupling to engage my faith where my honour was already bound. and the worse than absurdity. and hardening her heart anew against any compassion for him. what is more. I found myself." said Elinor. Get any book for free on: www." returned Elinor. before I could have an opportunity of speaking with her in private-a circumstance occurred--an unlucky circumstance. could I have sacrificed hers?-But I have done it. Could it be an impartial one? I acknowledge that her situation and her character ought to have been respected by me. by raising myself to affluence. to ruin all my resolution. I have. a little softened. whose interest it was to deprive me of her favour. lost every thing that could make it a blessing. colouring likewise. Even ." "You did then. that I was a cunning fool. from day to day.

and I have injured one. My affection for . Her affection for me deserved better treatment. and common sense might have told her how to find it out. I had reason to believe myself secure of my present wife. to defend myself. In short. and vain was every endeavour to soften it." "Well. which I was naturally inclined to feel." he warmly replied. Get any book for free on: www. the formality of her notions. The struggle was great--but it ended too soon. sir. that while you were enjoying yourself in Devonshire pursuing fresh schemes. always gay. upon my soul." "But. unpleasant to me as the discussion of such a subject may well be--your indifference is no apology for your cruel neglect of her. if I chose to address her. I wish--I heartily wish it had never been. in the wanton cruelty so evident on yours. In the height of her morality. "I did not recollect that I had omitted to give her my direction. my thorough conviction of her attachment to me--it was all insufficient to outweigh that dread of poverty. some apology was therefore necessary for my breaking this engagement. with great self-reproach.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 221 If the violence of her passions. But whether I should write this apology. Do not think yourself excused by any weakness. The matter itself I could not deny. and whose mind--Oh! how infinitely superior!"-"Your indifference. She was previously disposed. whose affection for me--(may I say it?) was scarcely less warm than hers. however. A heavy scene however awaited me. for a very short time. the very little portion of my time that I had bestowed on her. and what said Mrs. But I have injured more than herself. towards that unfortunate girl--I must say it. before I could leave Devonshire. You must have known.Abika.--I was engaged to dine with you on that very day. and my confusion may be guessed. the weakness of her understanding--I do not mean. or deliver it in person. The night following this affair--I was to go the next morning-was spent by me in deliberating on what my future conduct should be. she was reduced to the extremest indigence. I believe. in my present visit. and I often. any natural defect of understanding on her side. and was moreover discontented with the very little attention. it ended in a total breach. her ignorance of the world--every thing was against me. to doubt the morality of my conduct in general. By one measure I might have saved myself. I did NOT know it. recall the tenderness which. The purity of her life. was a point of long debate. always happy. or get the better of those false ideas of the necessity of riches. and I persuaded myself to think that nothing else in common prudence remained for me to do. That could not be--and I was formally dismissed from her favour and her house. Smith?" "She taxed me with the offence at once. however. if I would marry Eliza. good woman! she offered to forgive the past. had the power of creating any return. and expensive society had increased.

Mr. Get any book for free on: www. reproachfully.-Why was it necessary to call?" "It was necessary to my own pride. rascally folly of my own heart. however. I saw her. for I went. and therefore so tediously--no creature to speak to--my own reflections so cheerful--when I looked forward every thing so inviting!--when I looked back at Barton. Thank Heaven! it DID torture me. I found her alone.--Then came your dear mother to torture me farther. delighted with every body! But in this. Her sorrow. it was a blessed journey!" He stopped. I was miserable.Abika. our last interview of friendship. "a note would have answered every purpose. would be dreadful. left all that I loved. or the rest of the neighbourhood. with all her kindness and confidence. and. My journey to town--travelling with my own horses. and keep to my resolution. and went to those to . as I walked from the cottage to Allenham.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 222 To see Marianne. how gay were my spirits. In that point. the picture so soothing!--oh. You were all gone I do not know where. Miss Dashwood. impatiently. and left her miserable--and left her hoping never to see her again. I could not bear to leave the country in a manner that might lead you. Well. satisfied with myself. I approached her with a sense of guilt that almost took from me the power of dissembling. and in all likelihood much more than was justified by the future. God!--what a hard-hearted rascal I was!" They were both silent for a few moments. I undervalued my own magnanimity. Smith and myself-and I resolved therefore on calling at the cottage. to suspect any part of what had really passed between Mrs. such confidence in me!--Oh. to heighten the matter. The sight of your dear sister. "Did you tell her that you should soon return?" "I do not know what I told her. was really dreadful. her deep regret. you cannot have an idea of the comfort it gives me to look back on my own misery. and saw her miserable. so firmly resolved within my self on doing right! A few hours were to have engaged her to me for ever." he replied. at best. I cannot think of it. when I told her that I was obliged to leave Devonshire so immediately--I never shall forget it--united too with such reliance. I owe such a grudge to myself for the stupid. and I remember how happy. I was only indifferent. in my way to Honiton. Elinor first spoke. so fully. her disappointment. and I even doubted whether I could see her again. that all my past sufferings under it are only triumph and exultation to me now.--It won't do. Willoughby?" said Elinor." "Why did you call. I had left her only the evening before. "less than was due to the past. I went. as the event declared. I felt. beyond a doubt. however.

and as full of faith in the constancy of mine as ever. I felt that she was infinitely dearer to me than any other woman in the world. talking to myself of our past attachment as a mere idle.--Every line. overcoming every scruple. All that I had to do.Abika. fancying myself indifferent to her. trifling business.--Remember that you are married. awakened all my remorse.'-But this note made me know myself better. many weeks we had been separated. intending by that to preserve myself from her farther notice.--and I am sure they are dearer. 'I shall be heartily glad to hear she is well married." "When the first of hers reached me (as it immediately did. To retreat was impossible. and that I was using her infamously. that in spite of the many. very painful. I sent no answer to Marianne. common acquaintance than anything else. her opinions--I believe they are better known to me than my own. were she here. which had undergone many changes in the course of this extraordinary conversation. by assuring me that I was still as dear to her as in former days.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 223 "Well. though pitying him. was now softened again. every word was--in the hackneyed metaphor which their dear writer.--have you forgot what passed in town?-That infamous letter--Did she shew it you?" "Yes. Relate only what in your conscience you think necessary for me to hear. shrugging up my shoulders in proof of its being so. business and dissipation. judging it wiser to affect the air of a cool. was to avoid you both. I say awakened. and chusing to fancy that she too must have become indifferent to me. Mr." "Marianne's ." said Elinor. because time and London. for I was in town the whole time. and silencing every reproach. by secretly saying now and then." Get any book for free on: www." Elinor's heart. "and this is all?" "Ah!--no. Willoughby. had in some measure quieted it. she was as constant in her own feelings.) what I felt is-in the common phrase.--Thunderbolts and daggers!--what a reproof would she have given me!--her taste. I saw every note that passed. sir. would forbid--a dagger to my heart. in a more simple one--perhaps too simple to raise any emotion-my feelings were very. To know that Marianne was in town was--in the same language-a thunderbolt. and left my name. and I had been growing a fine hardened villain. and for some time I was even determined not to call in Berkeley Street. "This is not right. grew impatient for his departure.--yet she felt it her duty to check such ideas in her companion as the last. not to be expressed. who.--but at last. I watched you all safely out of the house one morning. But every thing was then just settled between Miss Grey and me.

The next morning brought another short note from Marianne-still affectionate. With my head and heart full of your sister. to trust myself near him. too!--doting on Marianne.--Had he NOT told me as an inducement that you and your sister were to be there. and what a sweet figure I cut!--what an evening of agony it was!-Marianne.Abika. calling me Willoughby in such a tone!--Oh. I could not answer it. certainly out of danger?" "We are assured of it. as I need not tell you. pity my situation as it was THEN. If you CAN pity me. the first day of his coming. it was a kind of comfort to me to imagine that I knew exactly how she would appear to those. it does not signify." "Your poor mother. Jennings's. confiding--everything that could make MY conduct most hateful. and the day after I had called at . I tried--but could not frame a sentence. as I travelled. I believe. She was before me. every moment of the day.-the last manner in which she appeared to me. you were forced on me. let me make haste and be gone." A short pause of mutual thoughtfulness succeeded. He asked me to a party. I was forced to play the happy lover to another woman!--Those three or four weeks were worse than all." Get any book for free on: www. it is over now. there was hardly a day in which I did not catch a glimpse of one or other of you. as well as everybody else who was likely to prove an acquaintance in common. as the carriage drove by. Well. Your sister is certainly better. a dance at his house in the evening.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 224 "Watched us out of the house!" "Even so. with those bewitching eyes fixed in such speaking solicitude on my face!--and Sophia. in the same look and hue. I should have felt it too certain a thing. I blundered on Sir John. I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight. constantly before me. beautiful as an angel on one side. I avoided the Middletons as much as possible. however. at last. But I thought of her.-Such an evening!--I ran away from you all as soon as I could. broke it thus: "Well. God!--holding out her hand to me. You would be surprised to hear how often I watched you. I believe. Lodging as I did in Bond Street. artless. Willoughby first rousing himself. looking all that was--Well. how often I was on the point of falling in with you. last look I ever had of her. asking me for an explanation. who saw her last in this world. It was a horrid sight!--yet when I thought of her to-day as really dying. open.--THAT was the last. Not aware of their being in town. Miss Dashwood. could have separated us so long. and nothing but the most constant watchfulness on my side. a most invariably prevailing desire to keep out of your sight. but not before I had seen Marianne's sweet face as white as death. jealous as the devil on the other hand.

you know. they already think me an unprincipled fellow. any thing was to be done to prevent a rupture. she opened the letter directly. as. the hand-writing altogether. THAT in particular. what did it signify to my character in the opinion of Marianne and her friends. immediately gave her a suspicion. this letter will only make them think me a blackguard one. betrayed her compassionate emotion. and whether I did it with a bow or a bluster was of little importance. but her passion--her malice--At all events it must be appeased.Abika. have you any thing to say about that?" "Yes. It happened to catch Sophia's eye before it caught mine--and its size. with some others.--the dear lock--all. and hoarded them for ever--I was forced to put them up. and could not even kiss them.--and her letter. yes. the very next morning. very blamable.' Such were my reasonings. I was breakfasting at the Ellisons. which was now searched by Madam with the most ingratiating virulence. in spite of herself." "Yes.-'I am ruined for ever in their opinion--' said I to myself--'I am shut out for ever from their society. which is delightful in a woman one loves. And the lock of hair--that too I had always carried about me in the same pocket-book. Her wretchedness I could have borne. in a sort of desperate carelessness. in short--what do you think of my wife's style of letter-writing?--delicate--tender-truly feminine--was it not?" "Your wife!--The letter was in your own hand-writing. Preparation!--day!--In honest words. her money was necessary to me. Willoughby. while her voice. Mr. My business was to declare myself a scoundrel. or I should have denied their existence. and read its contents. You saw what she said. every memento was torn from me. The original was all her own--her own happy thoughts and gentle diction. the elegance of the paper." "You are very wrong. But what could I do!--we were engaged. was brought to me there from my . And. Willoughby. "you ought not to speak Get any book for free on: www. and what had passed within her observation the preceding evening had marked who the young lady was. And after all. Mr. your own letter. Your sister wrote to me again.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 225 "But the letter. Affecting that air of playfulness. Some vague report had reached her before of my attachment to some young lady in Devonshire. in what language my answer was couched?--It must have been only to one end. She read what made her wretched. and parted with the last relics of Marianne." said Elinor. and made her more jealous than ever. I copied my wife's words. the day almost fixed--But I am talking like a fool. and in a situation like mine. every thing in preparation. therefore. She was well paid for her impudence. but I had only the credit of servilely copying such sentences as I was ashamed to put my name to. Her three notes--unluckily they were all in my pocketbook.

either of Mrs. and so much Get any book for free on: www. Have I explained away any part of my guilt?" "Yes.--That he had cut me ever since my marriage. on the whole.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 226 in this way." "Will you repeat to your sister when she is recovered. But I hardly know--the misery that you have inflicted--I hardly know what could have made it worse. that at this moment she is dearer to me than ever. You have proved your heart less wicked. forgiveness." "Last night.--Well. he told me that Marianne Dashwood was dying of a putrid fever at Cleveland--a letter that morning received from Mrs. To treat her with unkindness. and concern for your sister. &c. you have certainly removed something--a little. therefore.--She knew I had no regard for her when we married. more gentle. Let me be able to fancy that a better knowledge of my heart. to your respect. full of indignation against me. what I have been telling you?--Let me be a little lightened too in her opinion as well as in yours. Tell her of my misery and my penitence--tell her that my heart was never inconstant to her. much less wicked. to speak of her slightingly is no atonement to Marianne--nor can I suppose it a relief to your own conscience. and afterwards returned to town to be gay. Now.Abika. at least. more natural. You had made your own choice. however. She must be attached to you. and if you will. and of my present feelings. Willoughby or my sister. and when he saw who I was--for the first time these two months--he spoke to me." "Do not talk to me of my wife.--I was too much shocked to be able to pass myself off as insensible even to the undiscerning Sir John. His heart was softened in seeing mine . could not resist the temptation of telling me what he knew ought to--though probably he did not think it WOULD--vex me horridly. Jennings declared her danger most imminent--the Palmers are all gone off in a fright. I had seen without surprise or resentment. I ran against Sir John Middleton." "I will tell her all that is necessary to what may comparatively be called. honest. But you have not explained to me the particular reason of your coming now.-You have proved yourself. your justification. less faulty than I had believed you. and came down to Combe Magna to be happy.-"She does not deserve your compassion. It was not forced on you. in Drury Lane lobby. As bluntly as he could speak it. married we were. will draw from her a more spontaneous.--And now do you pity me. stupid soul. less dignified. Miss Dashwood?--or have I said all this to no purpose?-Am I--be it only one degree--am I less guilty in your opinion than I was before?--My intentions were not always wrong. Your wife has a claim to your politeness." said he with a heavy sigh. You tell me that she has forgiven me already. or she would not have married you. his good-natured. nor how you heard of her illness.

had required to be sacrificed. Good . and at eight o'clock this morning I was in my carriage. against feeling." Elinor made no answer. wished him well--was even interested in his happiness--and added some gentle counsel as to the behaviour most likely to promote it. "I must rub through the world as well as I can. that when we parted. and the connection. His answer was not very encouraging. had made in the mind. and luxury. against every better interest he had outwardly torn himself. governed every thought. rousing himself from a reverie at least equally painful. which extravagance. Get any book for free on: www. affectionate temper. or at least its offspring." "Are you going back to town?" "No--to Combe Magna. when no longer allowable. the happiness. now. hating me in her latest moments--for how could I tell what horrid projects might not have been imputed? ONE person I was sure would represent me as capable of any thing-What I felt was dreadful!--My resolution was soon made. letting it fall. dissipation. Now you know all. Vanity.--that she forgave. the character. and leaning against the mantel-piece as if forgetting he was to go. united a disposition naturally open and honest.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 227 of his ill-will was done away. had involved him in a real attachment. Her thoughts were silently fixed on the irreparable injury which too early an independence and its consequent habits of idleness. "As to that. left her sister to misery. I have business there. who. The world had made him extravagant and vain--Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish." He held out his hand. necessity.--he pressed it with affection. started up in preparation for going. of a man who. pitied. scorning. while seeking its own guilty triumph at the expense of another. She could not refuse to give him hers's. had led him likewise to punishment. with little scruple. and said-"There is no use in staying here. for the sake of which he had. and a feeling.Abika." said he. from which against honour. The attachment. from thence to town in a day or two. to every advantage of person and talents. From a reverie of this kind she was recalled at the end of some minutes by Willoughby. Each faulty propensity in leading him to evil. was likely to prove a source of unhappiness to himself of a far more incurable nature. I must be off. he almost shook me by the hand while he reminded me of an old promise about a pointer puppy. Domestic happiness is out of the question. What I felt on hearing that your sister was dying--and dying too. believing me the greatest villain upon earth. "And you DO think something better of me than you did?"--said he. Elinor assured him that she did.

by shewing that where I have most injured I can least forgive. Were I even by any blessed chance at liberty again--" Elinor stopped him with a reproof. of all others. widely differing in themselves. he. which made her think of him as now separated for ever from her family. to you than she is now. Good bye. for some time after he left her. Marianne to be sure is lost to me for ever. Get any book for free on: www. however. but of which sadness was the general result. in spite of all his faults. "Well. rather in proportion. But she felt that it was so. with a tenderness. And if that some one should be the very he whom. remained too much oppressed by a crowd of ideas. long before she could feel his influence less. I shall now go away and live in dread of one event. I could least bear--but I will not stay to rob myself of all your compassionate goodwill. as she soon acknowledged within herself--to his wishes than to his merits. it may be the means--it may put me on my guard--at least. CHAPTER 45 Elinor.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 228 If. When at last she returned to the unconscious Marianne. she found her just awaking. long. Willoughby. and by that still ardent love for Marianne.--God bless you!" And with these words. for some time even after the sound of his carriage had died . excited a degree of commiseration for the sufferings produced by them. it may be something to live for." "You are very wrong. that open. he almost ran out of the room. whom only half an hour ago she had abhorred as the most worthless of men."--he replied--"once more good bye." "What do you mean?" "Your sister's marriage. Elinor's heart was full.Abika. I am allowed to think that you and yours feel an interest in my fate and actions." She can never be more lost "But she will be gained by some one else. a regret. to think even of her sister. by that person of uncommon attraction. which it was not even innocent to indulge. She felt that his influence over her mind was heightened by circumstances which ought not in reason to have weight. refreshed by so long and sweet a sleep to the extent of her hopes. affectionate. Willoughby. and lively manner which it was no merit to possess.

now acquitted herself for having judged him so harshly before. was only checked by an apprehension of its robbing Marianne of farther sleep. Dashwood had recovered herself. But the rest. Elinor's delight. submitted readily to the silence and quiet prescribed by every nurse around her. the future. doubted whether after such an explanation she could ever be happy with another. Dashwood could be calm. no voice even for Elinor. Dashwood. was in a moment as much overcome by her happiness. and Elinor. whose terror as they drew near the house had produced almost the conviction of Marianne's being no more. But her promise of relating it to her sister was invariably painful. waiting neither for salutation nor inquiry. instantly gave the joyful relief.Abika. Short was the time. and her mother's expected arrival. catching it with all her usual warmth. and now blamed. she ran immediately into the hall. Willoughby's visit. she would not but have heard his vindication for the world. in which that fear could affect her. as she saw what each felt in the meeting. She was supported into the drawing-room between her daughter and her friend. however.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 229 The past. and made her only fearful of betraying herself to her sister. "poor . as she had been before by her fears." as she now allowed herself to call him. could be even prudent. went to bed. Get any book for free on: www. unhappiness. Mrs. the present. turning from her at intervals to press Colonel Brandon's hand. and her conviction of his sharing with herself in the bliss of the moment. remembering Colonel Brandon. and reached the outward door just in time to receive and support her as she entered it. and many hours of the most wearing anxiety seemed to make requisite. rendered dearer to her than ever by absence. with a look which spoke at once her gratitude.-but Mrs. Mrs. dreaded what its effect on Marianne might be. and Marianne. threw her altogether into an agitation of spirits which kept off every indication of fatigue. though still unable to speak.--Eager to save her mother from every unnecessary moment's horrible suspense. and conscious of being too weak for conversation. but SHE. Then. and danger. She dreaded the performance of it. As soon as Mrs. for within half an hour after Willoughby's leaving the house. and in two minutes she was with her beloved child. satisfied in knowing her mother was near her.-and her mother. she was again called down stairs by the sound of another carriage. and for a moment wished Willoughby a widower. embraced Elinor again and again. in a silence even greater than her own.-and there. was constantly in her thoughts. in compliance with her mother's entreaty. Willoughby. when the life of a child was at stake. Dashwood WOULD sit up with her all night. Marianne's safety. reproved herself. had no voice to inquire after her. shedding tears of joy. however. He shared it. was kept off by irritation of spirits. which one night entirely sleepless. to see Marianne was her first desire.



felt that to HIS sufferings and his constancy far more than to his rival's, the reward of her sister was due, and wished any thing rather than Mrs. Willoughby's death. The shock of Colonel Brandon's errand at Barton had been much softened to Mrs. Dashwood by her own previous alarm; for so great was her uneasiness about Marianne, that she had already determined to set out for Cleveland on that very day, without waiting for any further intelligence, and had so far settled her journey before his arrival, that the Careys were then expected every moment to fetch Margaret away, as her mother was unwilling to take her where there might be infection. Marianne continued to mend every day, and the brilliant cheerfulness of Mrs. Dashwood's looks and spirits proved her to be, as she repeatedly declared herself, one of the happiest women in the world. Elinor could not hear the declaration, nor witness its proofs without sometimes wondering whether her mother ever recollected Edward. But Mrs. Dashwood, trusting to the temperate account of her own disappointment which Elinor had sent her, was led away by the exuberance of her joy to think only of what would increase it. Marianne was restored to her from a danger in which, as she now began to feel, her own mistaken judgment in encouraging the unfortunate attachment to Willoughby, had contributed to place her;-and in her recovery she had yet another source of joy unthought of by Elinor. It was thus imparted to her, as soon as any opportunity of private conference between them occurred. "At last we are alone. My Elinor, you do not yet know all my happiness. Colonel Brandon loves Marianne. He has told me so himself." Her daughter, feeling by turns both pleased and pained, surprised and not surprised, was all silent attention. "You are never like me, dear Elinor, or I should wonder at your composure now. Had I sat down to wish for any possible good to my family, I should have fixed on Colonel Brandon's marrying one of you as the object most desirable. And I believe Marianne will be the most happy with him of the two." Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, because satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their age, characters, or feelings, could be given;--but her mother must always be carried away by her imagination on any interesting subject, and therefore instead of an inquiry, she passed it off with a smile. "He opened his whole heart to me yesterday as we travelled. It came out quite unawares, quite undesignedly. I, you may well believe, could talk of nothing but my child;--he could not conceal his distress; I saw that it equalled my own,

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and he perhaps, thinking that mere friendship, as the world now goes, would not justify so warm a sympathy--or rather, not thinking at all, I suppose--giving way to irresistible feelings, made me acquainted with his earnest, tender, constant, affection for Marianne. He has loved her, my Elinor, ever since the first moment of seeing her." Here, however, Elinor perceived,--not the language, not the professions of Colonel Brandon, but the natural embellishments of her mother's active fancy, which fashioned every thing delightful to her as it chose. "His regard for her, infinitely surpassing anything that Willoughby ever felt or feigned, as much more warm, as more sincere or constant--which ever we are to call it-has subsisted through all the knowledge of dear Marianne's unhappy prepossession for that worthless young man!--and without selfishness--without encouraging a hope!--could he have seen her happy with another--Such a noble mind!-such openness, such sincerity!--no one can be deceived in HIM." "Colonel Brandon's character," said Elinor, "as an excellent man, is well established." "I know it is"--replied her mother seriously, "or after such a warning, I should be the last to encourage such affection, or even to be pleased by it. But his coming for me as he did, with such active, such ready friendship, is enough to prove him one of the worthiest of men." "His character, however," answered Elinor, "does not rest on ONE act of kindness, to which his affection for Marianne, were humanity out of the case, would have prompted him. To Mrs. Jennings, to the Middletons, he has been long and intimately known; they equally love and respect him; and even my own knowledge of him, though lately acquired, is very considerable; and so highly do I value and esteem him, that if Marianne can be happy with him, I shall be as ready as yourself to think our connection the greatest blessing to us in the world. What answer did you give him?--Did you allow him to hope?" "Oh! my love, I could not then talk of hope to him or to myself. Marianne might at that moment be dying. But he did not ask for hope or encouragement. His was an involuntary confidence, an irrepressible effusion to a soothing friend--not an application to a parent. Yet after a time I DID say, for at first I was quite overcome--that if she lived, as I trusted she might, my greatest happiness would lie in promoting their marriage; and since our arrival, since our delightful security, I have repeated it to him more fully, have given him every encouragement in my power. Time, a very little time, I tell him, will do everything;--Marianne's heart is not to be wasted for ever on such a man as Willoughby.-His own merits must soon secure it."

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"To judge from the Colonel's spirits, however, you have not yet made him equally sanguine." "No.--He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply rooted for any change in it under a great length of time, and even supposing her heart again free, is too diffident of himself to believe, that with such a difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her. There, however, he is quite mistaken. His age is only so much beyond hers as to be an advantage, as to make his character and principles fixed;--and his disposition, I am well convinced, is exactly the very one to make your sister happy. And his person, his manners too, are all in his favour. My partiality does not blind me; he certainly is not so handsome as Willoughby--but at the same time, there is something much more pleasing in his countenance.-There was always a something,--if you remember,--in Willoughby's eyes at times, which I did not like." Elinor could NOT remember it;--but her mother, without waiting for her assent, continued, "And his manners, the Colonel's manners are not only more pleasing to me than Willoughby's ever were, but they are of a kind I well know to be more solidly attaching to Marianne. Their gentleness, their genuine attention to other people, and their manly unstudied simplicity is much more accordant with her real disposition, than the liveliness--often artificial, and often ill-timed of the other. I am very sure myself, that had Willoughby turned out as really amiable, as he has proved himself the contrary, Marianne would yet never have been so happy with HIM, as she will be with Colonel Brandon." She paused.--Her daughter could not quite agree with her, but her dissent was not heard, and therefore gave no offence. "At Delaford, she will be within an easy distance of me," added Mrs. Dashwood, "even if I remain at Barton; and in all probability,--for I hear it is a large village,--indeed there certainly MUST be some small house or cottage close by, that would suit us quite as well as our present situation." Poor Elinor!--here was a new scheme for getting her to Delaford!--but her spirit was stubborn. "His fortune too!--for at my time of life you know, everybody cares about THAT;--and though I neither know nor desire to know, what it really is, I am sure it must be a good one." Here they were interrupted by the entrance of a third person, and Elinor withdrew to think it all over in private, to wish success to her friend, and yet in wishing it, to feel a pang for Willoughby.

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Marianne's illness, though weakening in its kind, had not been long enough to make her recovery slow; and with youth, natural strength, and her mother's presence in aid, it proceeded so smoothly as to enable her to remove, within four days after the arrival of the latter, into Mrs. Palmer's dressing-room. When there, at her own particular request, for she was impatient to pour forth her thanks to him for fetching her mother, Colonel Brandon was invited to visit her. His emotion on entering the room, in seeing her altered looks, and in receiving the pale hand which she immediately held out to him, was such, as, in Elinor's conjecture, must arise from something more than his affection for Marianne, or the consciousness of its being known to others; and she soon discovered in his melancholy eye and varying complexion as he looked at her sister, the probable recurrence of many past scenes of misery to his mind, brought back by that resemblance between Marianne and Eliza already acknowledged, and now strengthened by the hollow eye, the sickly skin, the posture of reclining weakness, and the warm acknowledgment of peculiar obligation. Mrs. Dashwood, not less watchful of what passed than her daughter, but with a mind very differently influenced, and therefore watching to very different effect, saw nothing in the Colonel's behaviour but what arose from the most simple and self-evident sensations, while in the actions and words of Marianne she persuaded herself to think that something more than gratitude already dawned. At the end of another day or two, Marianne growing visibly stronger every twelve hours, Mrs. Dashwood, urged equally by her own and her daughter's wishes, began to talk of removing to Barton. On HER measures depended those of her two friends; Mrs. Jennings could not quit Cleveland during the Dashwoods' stay; and Colonel Brandon was soon brought, by their united request, to consider his own abode there as equally determinate, if not equally indispensable. At his and Mrs. Jennings's united request in return, Mrs. Dashwood was prevailed on to accept the use of his carriage on her journey back, for the better accommodation of her sick child; and the Colonel, at the joint invitation of Mrs. Dashwood and Mrs. Jennings, whose active good-nature made her friendly and hospitable for other people as well as herself, engaged with pleasure to redeem it by a visit at the cottage, in the course of a few weeks. The day of separation and departure arrived; and Marianne, after taking so particular and lengthened

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a leave of Mrs. Jennings, one so earnestly grateful, so full of respect and kind wishes as seemed due to her own heart from a secret acknowledgment of past inattention, and bidding Colonel Brandon farewell with a cordiality of a friend, was carefully assisted by him into the carriage, of which he seemed anxious that she should engross at least half. Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor then followed, and the others were left by themselves, to talk of the travellers, and feel their own dullness, till Mrs. Jennings was summoned to her chaise to take comfort in the gossip of her maid for the loss of her two young companions; and Colonel Brandon immediately afterwards took his solitary way to Delaford. The Dashwoods were two days on the road, and Marianne bore her journey on both, without essential fatigue. Every thing that the most zealous affection, the most solicitous care could do to render her comfortable, was the office of each watchful companion, and each found their reward in her bodily ease, and her calmness of spirits. To Elinor, the observation of the latter was particularly grateful. She, who had seen her week after week so constantly suffering, oppressed by anguish of heart which she had neither courage to speak of, nor fortitude to conceal, now saw with a joy, which no other could equally share, an apparent composure of mind, which, in being the result as she trusted of serious reflection, must eventually lead her to contentment and cheerfulness. As they approached Barton, indeed, and entered on scenes of which every field and every tree brought some peculiar, some painful recollection, she grew silent and thoughtful, and turning away her face from their notice, sat earnestly gazing through the window. But here, Elinor could neither wonder nor blame; and when she saw, as she assisted Marianne from the carriage, that she had been crying, she saw only an emotion too natural in itself to raise any thing less tender than pity, and in its unobtrusiveness entitled to praise. In the whole of her subsequent manner, she traced the direction of a mind awakened to reasonable exertion; for no sooner had they entered their common sitting-room, than Marianne turned her eyes around it with a look of resolute firmness, as if determined at once to accustom herself to the sight of every object with which the remembrance of Willoughby could be connected.--She said little, but every sentence aimed at cheerfulness, and though a sigh sometimes escaped her, it never passed away without the atonement of a smile. After dinner she would try her piano-forte. She went to it; but the music on which her eye first rested was an opera, procured for her by Willoughby, containing some of their favourite duets, and bearing on its outward leaf her own name in his hand-writing.--That would not do.--She shook her head, put the music aside, and after running over the keys for a minute, complained of feebleness in her fingers, and closed the instrument again; declaring however with firmness as she did so, that she should in future practice much.

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Abika. and talking of the dear family party which would then be restored. "we will take long walks together every day. before she appointed it. and we will often go the old ruins of the Priory. I have formed my plan. and from that time till dinner I shall divide every moment between music and reading. Her smile however changed to a sigh when she remembered that promise to Willoughby was yet unfulfilled.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 235 The next morning produced no abatement in these happy symptoms. anticipating the pleasure of Margaret's return. But the resolution was made only to be broken. and see how the children go on. and try to trace its foundations as far as we are told they once reached. the important hill behind. such as might tempt the daughter's wishes and the mother's confidence. Our own library is too well known to me. But there are many works well worth reading at the Park. I know we shall be happy. when pausing with her eyes Get any book for free on: www. she resolved to wait till her sister's health were more secure. I know the summer will pass happily away. and there are others of more modern production which I know I can borrow of Colonel Brandon." said she. By reading only six hours a-day. before the weather was fine enough for an invalid like herself to venture out. We will walk to the farm at the edge of the down. though smiling to see the same eager fancy which had been leading her to the extreme of languid indolence and selfish repining. genial morning appeared. and the Abbeyland. On the contrary. with a mind and body alike strengthened by rest. I shall gain in the course of a twelve-month a great deal of instruction which I now feel myself to want. and I have recovered my strength. was authorised to walk as long as she could without fatigue. I mean never to be later in rising than six. in the lane before the . The sisters set out at a pace." Elinor honoured her for a plan which originated so nobly as this. now at work in introducing excess into a scheme of such rational employment and virtuous self-control. as the only happiness worth a wish. she looked and spoke with more genuine spirit. leaning on Elinor's arm. to be resorted to for any thing beyond mere amusement. Willing therefore to delay the evil hour. and ruin at least for a time this fair prospect of busy tranquillity.--and they had advanced only so far beyond the house as to admit a full view of the hill. and am determined to enter on a course of serious study. we will walk to Sir John's new plantations at Barton Cross. and feared she had that to communicate which might again unsettle the mind of Marianne. and Marianne. slow as the feebleness of Marianne in an exercise hitherto untried since her illness required. "When the weather is settled. of their mutual pursuits and cheerful society. But at last a soft. Marianne had been two or three days at home.

Elinor?"-hesitatingly it was said. who has been what HE has been to ME." "Do you compare your conduct with his?" Get any book for free on: www. but a most shamefully unguarded affection could expose me to"-"How then.-and they crept on for a few minutes in silence. if I could be assured that he never was so VERY wicked as my fears have sometimes fancied him." asked her sister.-for not only is it horrible to suspect a person. but presently reviving she added. She was debating within herself on the eligibility of beginning her story directly. if I could be allowed to think that he was not ALWAYS acting a part." "Yes." Her voice sunk with the word.Abika. "I have done with that. "I am not wishing him too much good."-Elinor tenderly invited her to be open. of such designs. or postponing it till Marianne were in stronger health. not ALWAYS deceiving me. very.--At present. "I am thankful to find that I can look with so little pain on the spot!--shall we ever talk on that subject. as far as HE is concerned." said Marianne at last with a sigh. only fickle. exactly there. very fickle. I do not mean to talk to you of what my feelings have been for him. "There. "on that projecting mound.--but above all. I hope.--Oh. Elinor joyfully treasured her words as she answered. as I ought to do.--"Or will it be wrong?--I can talk of it now.--but what must it make me appear to myself?--What in a situation like mine. "As for regret.--there I fell. and there I first saw Willoughby. you think you should be easy. My peace of mind is doubly involved in it. if I could be satisfied on one point. Marianne calmly said. "would you account for his behaviour?" "I would suppose him. how gladly would I suppose him. but what they are NOW. "If you could be assured of that.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 236 turned towards it. "when I wish his secret reflections may be no more unpleasant than my own. He will suffer enough in them."--pointing with one hand." said Marianne. since the story of that unfortunate girl"-She stopt." Elinor said no .

I was perfectly able to reflect. than when I had believed you at ease. even to them. scarcely allowing sorrow to exist but with me.--wonder that the very eagerness of my desire to live. My illness has made me think-It has given me leisure and calmness for serious recollection. and that my want of fortitude under them had almost led me to the grave. I wonder at my recovery. but with such feelings as these reflections gave me. I saw some duty neglected. But you.--To John. did not kill me at once. who had known all the murmurings of my heart!--How should I have lived in YOUR remembrance!--My mother too! How could you have consoled her!--I cannot express my own abhorrence of myself. Jennings.-in what peculiar misery should I have left you." "Our situations have borne little resemblance. and only I. I had repaid with ungrateful contempt. My illness. To the Middletons.--you above all. above my mother. knew your heart and its . Every body seemed injured by me. little as they deserve. regretting only THAT heart which had deserted and wronged me. I did not know my danger till the danger was removed. for or I professed an unbounded affection. I compare it with yours. I saw that my own feelings had prepared my sufferings. Long before I was enough recovered to talk. The kindness. to the Palmers. my friend. my dearest Elinor." "They have borne more than our conduct. let your kindness defend what I know your judgment must censure. had been wronged by me. yet to what did it influence me?--not to any compassion that could benefit you or myself. nothing but a series of imprudence towards myself.--yes. with a heart hardened against their merits. I considered the past: I saw in my own behaviour. had been entirely brought on by myself by such negligence of my own health. the unceasing kindness of Mrs. my sister!--You. did I turn away from every exertion of duty or friendship. to every common acquaintance even. as I had felt even at the time to be wrong. to be miserable for my sake.Abika. the Steeles. Had I died.-not less when I knew you to be unhappy. and a temper irritated by their very attention. by taking any part in those offices of general complaisance or particular gratitude which you had hitherto been left to discharge alone?--No. and want of kindness to others. and to you all.--it would have been self-destruction. I well knew.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 237 "No. I. who had seen all the fretful selfishness of my latter days. and leaving you. or some failing indulged.--Do not. I compare it with what it ought to have been. or lessen your restraints. I had given less than their due. since the beginning of our acquaintance with him last autumn. I had been insolent and unjust. but to what avail?--Was I more considerate of you and your comfort? Did I imitate your forbearance. my nurse. to Fanny. Whenever I looked towards the past. to have time for atonement to my God. Had I died." Get any book for free on: www.--Your example was before me.

and was carefully minute in every particular of speech and look. and Margaret. I have laid down my plan. unknowingly to herself. closely pressed her sister's. Marianne said not a word. A thousand inquiries sprung up from her heart. it shall be checked by religion. her eyes were fixed on the ground. as she hoped. Marianne with a kiss of gratitude and these two words just articulate through her tears. from my home. and if I do mix in other society. She managed the recital. with gentleness and forbearance." Elinor. led her towards home. and Elinor. and if I am capable of adhering to it--my feelings shall be governed and my temper improved. it will be only to shew that my spirit is humbled. where minuteness could be safely indulged. You. who had now been for some time reflecting on the propriety or impropriety of speedily hazarding her narration. must henceforth be all the world to me. resolution must do . and perceiving that as reflection did nothing. and softened only his protestations of present regard. Marianne pressed her hand and replied. I shall now live solely for my family. easily conjecturing what her curiosity must be though no question was suffered to speak it. my mother. dreading her being tired. my heart amended. nor torture myself." She paused--and added in a low voice. by reason. without feeling at all nearer decision than at first.--The future must be my proof.--She trembled. related simply and honestly the chief points on which Willoughby grounded his apology. and that I can practise the civilities. by constant employment. prepared her anxious listener with caution. and their conversation together. heard this. with address. and tears covered her cheeks. His remembrance can be overcome by no change of circumstances or opinions. everything would become easy. Elinor. "If I could but know HIS heart. >From you. "You are very good. her hand. They shall no longer worry others. But it shall be regulated." withdrew from her sister and Get any book for free on: www. I shall never again have the smallest incitement to move.Abika. She caught every syllable with panting eagerness. gave her instantly that praise and support which her frankness and her contrition so well deserved. though too honest to flatter. impatient to soothe. you will share my affections entirely between you. but she dared not urge one. As soon as they entered the house. soon found herself leading to the fact. As for Willoughby--to say that I shall soon or that I shall ever forget him. the lesser duties of life.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 238 Here ceased the rapid flow of her self-reproving spirit. did justice to his repentance. would be idle. talked of nothing but Willoughby. and till they reached the door of the cottage. and her lips became whiter than even sickness had left them. "Tell mama.

But it was neither in Elinor's power. Nothing could replace him. it is probable that her compassion would have been greater.-but that it was not without an effort. should Marianne fail to do it.-and her unsteady voice. to Marianne. Elinor would not attempt to disturb a solitude so reasonable as what she now sought. Nothing could do away the knowledge of what the latter had suffered through his means. unquiet thoughtfulness in which she had been for some time previously sitting--her rising colour. when they were all three together. and a resolution of reviving the subject again. nor in her wish. and with greater Get any book for free on: www. as she spoke. she added. heard Willoughby's story from himself--had she witnessed his distress." Mrs.--she was sorry for him. as had at first been called forth in herself. "I wish to assure you both. by an eager sign.-she wished. but recovering herself. and with a mind anxiously pre-arranging its result.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 239 walked slowly up stairs. and been under the influence of his countenance and his manner. to declare only the simple truth. by her retailed explanation. plainly shewed. therefore.Abika. But the feelings of the past could not be recalled. like her daughter. to rouse such feelings in another. ." said she. She rejoiced in his being cleared from some part of his imputed guilt. engaged her silence. she turned into the parlour to fulfill her parting injunction."--For some moments her voice was lost. Reflection had given calmness to her judgment. who really wished to hear her sister's unbiased opinion. the restless. "that I see every thing--as you can desire me to do. without any embellishment of tenderness to lead the fancy astray. Marianne slowly continued-"It is a great relief to me--what Elinor told me this morning--I have now heard exactly what I wished to hear. Had Mrs. Marianne began voluntarily to speak of him again. and sobered her own opinion of Willoughby's deserts.--she wished him happy. Dashwood would have interrupted her instantly with soothing tenderness. Dashwood. nor remove the guilt of his conduct towards Eliza.--Nothing could restore him with a faith unbroken--a character unblemished. nor injure the interests of Colonel Brandon. Dashwood did not hear unmoved the vindication of her former favourite. CHAPTER 47 Mrs. had not Elinor. in her former esteem. In the evening. and lay open such facts as were really due to his character.

but in many other circumstances. and the best of men!--No--my Marianne has not a heart to be made happy with such a man!--Her conscience. and his whole conduct declares that self-denial is a word hardly understood by him.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 240 calmness than before--"I am now perfectly satisfied. made him delay the confession of it. as long as your frugality retrenched only on your own comfort.Abika. Had you married. very small income. as well as myself. perhaps. was. has been grounded on selfishness. His expensiveness is acknowledged even by himself." "You consider the matter." Get any book for free on: www. and she repeated the word "Selfish?" in a tone that implied--"do you really think him selfish?" "The whole of his behaviour." Marianne sighed." "I know it--I know it. much less certain. reason enough to be convinced that your marriage must have involved you in many certain troubles and disappointments. would have felt all that the conscience of her husband ought to have felt. after knowing. when aware of your situation. I wish for no change. and repeated." said . you might have been suffered to practice it. Nothing could have done it away to my feelings. or his own ease. His demands and your inexperience together. must have brought on distresses which would not be the LESS grievous to you. that instead of prevailing on feelings so selfish to consent to it. in which you would have been poorly supported by an affection." replied Elinor. when his own were engaged. not only in this. YOUR sense of honour and honesty would have led you. on his side. and I dare say you perceive. no esteem. "I wish for no change. "Happy with a man of libertine practices!--With one who so injured the peace of the dearest of our friends. to attempt all the economy that would appear to you possible: and. his ruling principle. on a small. however reasonably." cried her mother. you would have lessened your own influence on his heart. I know. had you endeavoured. to abridge HIS enjoyments. I never could have been happy with him. in every particular. and which finally carried him from Barton. "from the beginning to the end of the affair. but beyond that-and how little could the utmost of your single management do to stop the ruin which had begun before your marriage?-Beyond THAT. all this. "exactly as a good mind and a sound understanding must consider it. you must have been always poor.--I should have had no confidence. His own enjoyment. as sooner or later I must have known. from having been entirely unknown and unthought of before. her sensitive counscience. is it not to be feared. which afterwards. and made him regret the connection which had involved him in such difficulties?" Marianne's lips quivered. It was selfishness which first made him sport with your affections.

" said Marianne. He would have had a wife of whose temper he could make no complaint. Elinor." Marianne assented most feelingly to the remark. but while her resolution was unsubdued. however. and her mother was led by it to an enumeration of Colonel Brandon's injuries and merits. my child. and of all his present discontents. Her daughter did not look. she. and if not pursuing their usual studies with quite so much vigour as when they first came to Barton." Marianne would not let her proceed. at least planning a vigorous prosecution of them in future. Get any book for free on: www. therefore. That crime has been the origin of every lesser one. I think. than the mere temper of a wife. that Marianne did not continue to gain strength as she had done. satisfied that each felt their own error." "I have not a doubt of it. as if much of it were heard by her. pursuing the first subject. he now reckons as nothing. her sister could safely trust to the effect of time upon her health. and probably would soon have learned to rank the innumerable comforts of a clear estate and good income as of far more importance. warm as friendship and design could unitedly dictate." said Mrs.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 241 "It is very true. he would have been happy?--The inconveniences would have been different. be fairly drawn from the whole of the story--that all Willoughby's difficulties have arisen from the first offence against . "SHE must be answerable. saw on the two or three following days." continued Elinor." "At present. but he would have been always necessitous--always poor. "One observation may. Dashwood.Abika. "and I have nothing to regret--nothing but my own folly. even to domestic happiness. immediately continued. and she still tried to appear cheerful and easy. and the family were again all restored to each other. again quietly settled at the cottage. It has not made him happy." "Rather say your mother's imprudence. Margaret returned. "he regrets what he has done. and he thinks only that he has married a woman of a less amiable temper than yourself. wished to avoid any survey of the past that might weaken her sister's spirits. MY happiness never was his object. because they are removed.--and Elinor. He would then have suffered under the pecuniary distresses which. according to her expectation. in his behaviour to Eliza Williams. But does it follow that had he married you. His circumstances are now unembarrassed--he suffers from no evil of that kind. And why does he regret it?--Because he finds it has not answered towards himself.

They was stopping in a chaise at the door of the New London Inn. for his name was not even mentioned in any of the succeeding letters. who. Some letters had passed between her and her brother.Abika. and how sorry they was they had not time to come on and see you. alike distressed by Marianne's situation. that Mr. and his lady too. ma'am. in consequence of Marianne's illness. fixed her eyes upon Elinor. She had heard nothing of him since her leaving London. so I took off my hat." Marianne gave a violent start. as she answered the servant's inquiry. nothing certain even of his present abode. Dashwood immediately took all that trouble on herself. returned to Elinor. had sense enough to call one of the maids. She was not doomed. ma'am. especially Miss Marianne. Ferrars myself. with Mrs. and in the first of John's. Ferrars was married. and her mother leaving her to the care of Margaret and the maid. who. and can make no enquiries on so prohibited a subject. Mrs.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 242 Elinor grew impatient for some tidings of Edward. Their man-servant had been sent one morning to Exeter on business. was shocked to perceive by Elinor's countenance how much she really . for they was going further Get any book for free on: www." which was all the intelligence of Edward afforded her by the correspondence. as he waited at table. knew not on which child to bestow her principal attention. and when. Mrs. Marianne was rather better. but conclude him to be still at Oxford. and a moment afterwards. whose eyes. as I went there with a message from Sally at the Park to her brother. this was his voluntary communication-"I suppose you know. who is one of the post-boys. as to the source of his intelligence. Ferrars is married. and the young ladies. supported her into the other room. nothing new of his plans. but they was in a great hurry to go forwards. to be long in ignorance of his measures. Ferrars's. had so far recovered the use of her reason and voice as to be just beginning an inquiry of Thomas. who saw only that Miss Marianne was taken ill. The servant. and she knew me and called to me. though still much disordered. Miss Steele as was. Dashwood. ma'am. saw her turning pale. and bid me I should give her compliments and Mr. Thomas?" "I see Mr. there had been this sentence:-"We know nothing of our unfortunate Edward. Dashwood's assistance. this morning in Exeter. By that time. "Who told you that Mr. I happened to look up as I went by the chaise. and Elinor had the benefit of the information without the exertion of seeking it. their best compliments and service. however. and so I see directly it was the youngest Miss Steele. had intuitively taken the same direction. and fell back in her chair in hysterics. he had satisfied the inquiries of his mistress as to the event of his errand. and inquired after you.

So. She . ma'am. ma'am. and then they'd be sure and call here. She recognised the whole of Lucy in the message. and said how she had changed her name since she was in these parts. to her mother. she said how she was very well. ma'am. "Was there no one else in the carriage?" "No. She was always a very affable and free-spoken young lady.--he never was a gentleman much for talking." "Was Mr. She observed in a low voice. Ferrars in the carriage with her?" "Yes. Ferrars told me.Abika. Thomas's intelligence seemed over. and very civil behaved." Mrs. Get any book for free on: www. I made free to wish her joy." "But did she tell you she was married. I just see him leaning back in it. Pratt's. before you came away?" "No. as if she wished to hear more. and to my mind she was always a very handsome young lady--and she seemed vastly contented. Elinor looked "Did you see them off. when they come back. and was very confident that Edward would never come near them. but howsever. but Elinor knew better than to expect them. Dashwood now looked at her daughter. but I could not bide any longer. and Thomas and the tablecloth. Dashwood could think of no other question. near Plymouth. Dashwood probably found the same explanation. that they were probably going down to Mr." "And are they going farther westward?" "Yes. ma'am. ma'am--the horses were just coming out.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 243 down for a little while. ma'am--but not to bide long." "Did Mrs. and Mrs. now alike needless." Elinor's heart could easily account for his not putting himself forward." "Do you know where they came from?" "They come straight from town. They will soon be back again. Ferrars look well?" "Yes. they'd make sure to come and see you. as Miss Lucy-Mrs. but he did not look up. Thomas?" "Yes. I was afraid of being late. only they two." Mrs.

and certainty itself. Get any book for free on: www. Mrs. which so much heightened the pain of the intelligence. suffering as she then had suffered for Marianne. to think the attachment. she had never been obliged to go without her dinner before. had too much engrossed her tenderness. Dashwood feared to hazard any remark. more immediately before her. in her haste to secure him. Mrs. on seeing her mother's servant. Marianne had already sent to say. she had always admitted a hope. that in spite of herself. in her self-provident care. however certain the mind may be told to consider it. or than it was now proved to be. or some more eligible opportunity of establishment for the lady. But she soon saw how likely it was that Lucy.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 244 were soon afterwards dismissed. much slighter in reality. inattentive. and she condemned her heart for the lurking flattery. CHAPTER 48 Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event. nay. and justly concluded that every thing had been expressly softened at the time. surprised her a little at first. that with so much uneasiness as both her sisters had lately experienced. and led her away to forget that in Elinor she might have a daughter suffering almost as much. than she had been wont to believe. while Edward remained single. When the dessert and the wine were arranged. That he should be married soon. would arise to assist the happiness of all. which once she had so well understood. and ventured not to offer consolation. married in town. the considerate attention of her daughter. that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy. and now hastening down to her uncle's. so much reason as they had often had to be careless of their meals. But he was now married. and greater fortitude. to spare her from an increase of unhappiness. should overlook every thing but the risk of delay. that some resolution of his own.Abika. What had Edward felt on being within four miles from Barton. to her Elinor. Dashwood and Elinor were left by themselves. because more acknowledged. She found that she had been misled by the careful. that she should eat nothing more. Dashwood's and Elinor's appetites were equally lost. and Margaret might think herself very well off. almost unkind. and Mrs. and consequently before he could be in possession of the living. certainly with less self-provocation. She feared that under this persuasion she had been unjust. They were married. She now found. She now found that she had erred in relying on Elinor's representation of herself. some mediation of friends.-that Marianne's affliction. before (as she imagined) he could be in . they remained long together in a similarity of thoughtfulness and silence.

would appear in their behaviour to him. it was Colonel Brandon himself.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 245 on hearing Lucy's message! They would soon.--it WAS Edward. "He comes from Mr.--nothing pleased her. and ashamed to be suspected of half her economical practices. He stopt at their gate. no tidings. the active. "When do you write to Colonel Brandon. But--it was NOT Colonel Brandon--neither his air--nor his height. and she trembled in expectation of it. and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow.--but she had no utterance. Though uncertain that any one were to blame. and whisper a few sentences to each other." In a moment she perceived that the others were likewise aware of the mistake. and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion. Elinor flattered herself that some one of their connections in London would write to them to announce the event. "I wrote to him. nor what she wished to see.-pursuing her own interest in every thought. I earnestly pressed his coming to us.Abika. of Mrs. something to look forward to. than to hear from him again.--that place in which so much conspired to give her an interest.--happy or unhappy. contriving manager. ma'am?" was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on. and give farther particulars. saw them look at herself. saw in Lucy. She looked again. Now she could hear more. and yet desired to avoid.--she could not be mistaken. She saw them in an instant in their parsonage-house. I WILL be calm." This was gaining something. she found fault with every absent friend.--Delaford. which she wished to be acquainted with. she supposed.--but day after day passed off. or any . Pratt's purposely to see us. uniting at once a desire of smart appearance with the utmost frugality. and of every wealthy friend. In Edward--she knew not what she saw. He had just dismounted. She would have given the world to be able to speak--and to make them understand that she hoped no coolness. Get any book for free on: www. she turned away her head from every sketch of him. my love. last week. Were it possible. courting the favour of Colonel Brandon. she must say it must be Edward. be settled at Delaford. I WILL be mistress of myself. and brought no letter. She saw her mother and Marianne change colour. Scarcely had she so determined it. when the figure of a man on horseback drew her eyes to the window. Jennings. Colonel Brandon must have some information to give. It was a gentleman. and rather expect to see. no slight. She moved away and sat down. They were all thoughtless or indolent.

"Is Mrs." "I meant. a very awful pause took place. my mother is in town. and Margaret. gave him her hand. His footsteps were heard along the gravel path. Ferrars very well. met with a look of forced complacency. to the wishes of that daughter. He coloured. Dashwood.--Mrs. "to inquire for Mrs. looked doubtingly. His countenance. she sat down again and talked of the weather. as she . and conscious that he merited no kind one. Robert Ferrars!"--was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an accent of the utmost amazement. His complexion was white with agitation. and wished him joy. to conceal her distress. but not the whole of the case. after some hesitation.--but her mother and Marianne both turned their eyes on him. They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. taking up some work from the table. and maintained a strict silence. EDWARD Ferrars.-"No. Dashwood. ROBERT Ferrars. When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season. and therefore took a seat as far from him as she could. Another pause. and in another he was before them. who felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. even for Elinor. however. in a moment he was in the passage. was not too happy. conforming. and with a countenance meaning to be open. and. now said. he replied in the affirmative. But it was then too late. and stammered out an unintelligible reply. It was put an end to by Mrs.Abika. He coloured." said Elinor. said. when the moment of action was over. Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight. understanding some part." She dared not look up. Mrs. and he looked as if fearful of his reception. with an air of surprise.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 246 Not a syllable passed aloud. thought it incumbent on her to be dignified. Elinor's lips had moved with her mother's. though fearing the sound of her own voice.--and though Get any book for free on: www. by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing." "Mrs. as he entered the room. Ferrars at Longstaple?" "At Longstaple!" he replied. Elinor resolving to exert herself. and. she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. In a hurried manner.-"Perhaps you mean--my brother--you mean Mrs. seemed perplexed.

and perhaps saw-or even heard. was a simple one. burst into tears of joy. which at first she thought would never cease. as the circumstances of his release might appear to the whole family. His errand at Barton.--for after experiencing the blessings of ONE imprudent engagement. He rose from his seat. who sat with her head leaning over her work. contracted without his mother's consent. Edward. no affectionate address of Mrs. and to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all. in fact. without saying a word.--a perplexity which they had no means of lessening but by their own conjectures. rather than at her. She almost ran out of the room. and walked out towards the village--leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation. Get any book for free on: www. in a hurried voice. who had till then looked any where. which no remarks. and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as he spoke. "Yes. it was certain that Edward was free. said. her emotion. took up a pair of scissors that lay there. and as soon as the door was closed. It was only to ask Elinor to marry him. however." said he. nothing less could be expected of him in the failure of THAT.--and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a . saw her hurry away. apparently from not knowing what to do. as he had already done for more than four years. in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was. and walked to the window. "Perhaps you do not know--you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to--to the youngest--to Miss Lucy Steele.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 247 Elinor could not speak. and at last. even HER eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did.Abika. so much in need of encouragement and fresh air. quitted the room." His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Elinor. CHAPTER 49 Unaccountable. than the immediate contraction of another." Elinor could sit it no longer. Dashwood could penetrate. no inquiries. "they were married last week. so wonderful and so sudden. and are now at Dawlish. for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie.

He had more than the ordinary triumph of accepted love to swell his heart. and for the first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 248 How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution. from an entanglement which had long formed his misery. I think--nay. I am sure. for though I left Longstaple with what I thought. I had therefore nothing in the world to do. no companion in my brother. I should very soon have outgrown the fancied attachment. in what manner he expressed himself. Pratt. "It was a foolish. for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. and see no defects.-and elevated at once to that security with another. I returned home to be completely idle. Had my brother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr." said he. but. She was pretty too--at least I thought so THEN. he had secured his lady. which he must have thought of almost with despair. idle inclination on my side. or being allowed to chuse any myself. I hope. not from doubt or suspense. however.--that when they all sat down to table at four o'clock. which belonging to the university would have given me.Abika. but from misery to happiness. as I had no friend. but to fancy myself in love. where I always felt myself at home. need not be particularly told. and was not only in the rapturous profession of the lover. His situation indeed was more than commonly joyful. instead of having any profession chosen for me. engaged her mother's consent. a most unconquerable preference for his niece. and how he was . from a woman whom he had long ceased to love. He was brought. how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred. Get any book for free on: www. all its weaknesses. and was always sure of a welcome. one of the happiest of men. grateful cheerfulness. But instead of having any thing to do. and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable. about three hours after his arrival. and I had seen so little of other women. especially by mixing more with the world.--and the change was openly spoken in such a genuine. His heart was now open to Elinor. and raise his spirits. yet had I then had any pursuit. and disliked new acquaintance. He was released without any reproach to himself. as soon as he had learnt to consider it with desire. it would never have happened. at the time. therefore. flowing. and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all the philosophic dignity of twenty-four. as in such case I must have done. as his friends had never witnessed in him before. This only need be said. it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple. Considering everything. any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months. "the consequence of ignorance of the world-and want of employment. all its errors confessed. in the reality of reason and truth. that I could make no comparisons.

--and Elinor's particular knowledge of each party made it appear to her in every view. she was every thing by turns but tranquil. yet with lovers it is different. or suffice to say half that was to be said of the past. and yet . Comparisons would occur--regrets would arise.--for though a very few hours spent in the hard labor of incessant talking will despatch more subjects than can really be in common between any two rational creatures. saw him instantly profiting by the release.--and her joy. as one of the most extraordinary and unaccountable circumstances she had ever heard. every solicitude removed.Abika. it was not at the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly. But when the second moment had passed.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 249 foolish as our engagement was. foolish as it has since in every way been proved.--she was oppressed. though sincere as her love for her sister.-and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the better. and the future. that Edward was free. was such--so great--as promised them all. as she wished. the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Lucy's marriage. nor praise Elinor enough. to address herself and declare an affection as tender. Mrs.--for whatever other claims might be made on him. of whose beauty she had herself heard him speak Get any book for free on: www.--saw him honourably released from his former engagement. she was overcome by her own felicity. how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his delicacy. and by what attraction Robert could be drawn on to marry a girl. it was impossible that less than a week should be given up to the enjoyment of Elinor's company." The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the happiness of the Dashwoods. knew not how to love Edward. or any degree of tranquillity to her heart. Between THEM no subject is finished. when she found every doubt. nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained conversation together. was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor language. it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits. the unceasing and reasonable wonder among them all. Edward was now fixed at the cottage at least for a week. no communication is even made. too happy to be comfortable. the sight and society of both. Dashwood. compared her situation with what so lately it had been. But Elinor--how are HER feelings to be described?--From the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another. as constant as she had ever supposed it to be. formed of course one of the earliest discussions of the lovers. How they could be thrown together. the present. to the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly followed. Marianne could speak HER happiness only by tears. till it has been made at least twenty times over.

and have no doubt of being as happy with him as I once used to think I might be with you. and the joy of such a deliverance. Not the smallest suspicion. at first accidentally meeting. but I scorn to accept a hand while the heart was another's. where he had remained for choice ever since his quitting London. the horror. Get any book for free on: www. Your brother has gained my affections entirely." How long it had been carrying on between them. Sincerely wish you happy in your choice. that. and it shall not be my fault if we are not always good friends. "Your sincere well-wisher. I have thought myself at liberty to bestow my own on another. it was completely a puzzle. we are just returned from the altar. had ever occurred to prepare him for what followed." he presently added. as our near relationship now makes proper. as to lead by degrees to all the rest. perhaps. of his opinion of what his own mediation in his brother's affairs might have done. he had been for some time. Elinor remembered what Robert had told her in Harley Street. her judgment. and sister. and are now on our way to Dawlish for a few weeks. which place your dear brother has great curiosity to see. therefore. but thought I would first trouble you with these few lines. the vanity of the one had been so worked on by the flattery of the other. however."--was his immediate observation. "might perhaps be in HIS head when the acquaintance between them first began. half stupified between the wonder. and am sure you will be too generous to do us any ill offices. and as we could not live without one another.--a girl too already engaged to his brother. if applied to in time. "DEAR SIR. he was equally at a loss with herself to make out. friend. he had had no means of hearing of her but from herself. Edward could only attempt an explanation by supposing.--"And THAT. nor less affectionate than usual. To her own heart it was a delightful affair. "Being very sure I have long lost your affections.--and when at last it burst on him in a letter from Lucy herself. and on whose account that brother had been thrown off by his family--it was beyond her comprehension to make out. Other designs might afterward arise. to her imagination it was even a ridiculous one. I can safely say I owe you no ill-will. "THAT was exactly like Robert. and shall always remain. He put the letter into Elinor's hands. he believed. And Lucy perhaps at first might think only of procuring his good offices in my favour.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 250 without any admiration. for at Oxford. and her letters to the very last were neither less frequent.Abika. but to her . She repeated it to Edward.

he did not.Abika. in spite of the jealousy with which he had once thought of Colonel Brandon. for no communication with any of his family had yet been attempted by him. I suppose. and Edward himself. and she has actually been bribing one son with a thousand a-year. to go off with a flourish of malice against him in her message by Thomas. after a pause. and by his rapidity in seeking THAT fate. of which the substance made me any amends for the defect of the style. "I will not ask your opinion of it as a composition. than she would have been by your marrying her. and on the same principle will forgive him much sooner. must be referred to the imagination of husbands and wives." said Elinor. but in a wife!--how I have blushed over the pages of her writing!--and I believe I may say that since the first half year of our foolish--business--this is the only letter I ever received from her.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 251 "LUCY FERRARS. in spite of the modesty with which he rated his own deserts. What he might say on the subject a twelvemonth after." "However it may have come about. the nearest road to Barton." said Edward. however. upon the whole. was perfectly clear to Elinor.--"they are certainly married.--She will be more hurt by it. and will return your picture the first opportunity. The independence she settled on Robert. He could do nothing till he were assured of his fate with Miss Dashwood. by Robert's marrying Lucy. and he said it very prettily. expect a very cruel reception. and with only one object before him. has put it in his power to make his own choice. it is to be supposed. That Lucy had certainly meant to deceive. had had no leisure to form any scheme of conduct." In what state the affair stood at present between them. now thoroughly enlightened on her character. Edward knew not. for Robert always was her favourite." "She will be more hurt by it. with which that road did not hold the most intimate connection. to say that he DID. "I have burnt all your letters. And your mother has brought on herself a most appropriate punishment. Please to destroy my scrawls--but the ring with my hair you are very welcome to keep. It was his business." Elinor read and returned it without any comment. had no scruple in believing her capable of the utmost meanness Get any book for free on: www. She will hardly be less hurt.--"For worlds would not I have had a letter of hers seen by YOU in former days. He had quitted Oxford within four and twenty hours after Lucy's letter . to do the very deed which she disinherited the other for intending to do.--In a sister it is bad enough. through resentment against you. and the politeness with which he talked of his doubts.

as you were THEN situated. so warmly insisted on sharing my fate. nor more self-evident than the motive of it. he had always believed her to be a well-disposed.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 252 of wanton ill-nature. to give her the option of continuing the engagement or not." "No. "I was simple enough to think. when he must have felt his own inconstancy. and till her last letter reached him. to be fettered to a man for whom she had not the smallest regard. even before his acquaintance with Elinor began. could never be." He could only plead an ignorance of his own heart. "Your behaviour was certainly very wrong. to her ignorance and a want of liberality in some of her opinions-they had been equally . that any thing but the most disinterested affection was her inducement? And even now. Elinor scolded him. harshly as ladies always scold the imprudence which compliments themselves. immediately convinced that nothing could have been more natural than Lucy's conduct. of course. and thoroughly attached to himself. there could be no danger in my being with you. for she has proved that it fettered neither her inclination nor her actions. "because--to say nothing of my own conviction. And at any rate. good-hearted girl. where there seemed nothing to tempt the avarice or the vanity of any living creature. when she so earnestly. She could not foresee that Colonel Brandon would give me a living. whatever it might be. to her want of education." said she. Though his eyes had been long opened. In such a situation as that. long before the discovery of it laid him open to his mother's anger." Edward was. but she might suppose that something would occur in your favour. which. I cannot comprehend on what motive she acted. and probably gained her consideration among her friends. she lost nothing by continuing the engagement. by him. or what fancied advantage it could be to her. and stood to all appearance without a friend in the world to assist me. that your own family might in time relent. The connection was certainly a respectable one. for having spent so much time with them at Norland. when I was renounced by my mother. "independent of my feelings. I felt Get any book for free on: www. if nothing more advantageous occurred. how could I suppose. "I thought it my duty. and that the consciousness of my engagement was to keep my heart as safe and sacred as my honour. and a mistaken confidence in the force of his engagement. it would be better for her to marry YOU than be single. Nothing but such a persuasion could have prevented his putting an end to an engagement." said he. our relations were all led away by it to fancy and expect WHAT. and who had only two thousand pounds in the world. and. that because my FAITH was plighted to another.Abika. had been a continual source of disquiet and regret to him.

was all that they could call their own. for it was impossible that Mrs. Get any book for free on: www. But so little interest had be taken in the matter. were no better than these:--The danger is my own. but I told myself it was only friendship. and rate of the tithes. their intimate knowledge of each other seemed to make their happiness certain--and they only wanted something to live upon. They were brought together by mutual affection. condition of the land." said he. but to have an opportunity of convincing him that he no longer resented his giving him the living of Delaford--"Which. with the warmest approbation of their real friends.Abika. and Colonel Brandon therefore walked every night to his old quarters at the Park. Edward was allowed to retain the privilege of first comer. extent of the parish. Dashwood's satisfaction. and on THAT he rested for the residue of their income. she feared that Robert's offence would serve no other purpose than to enrich Fanny. for the first time since her living at Barton. at present. between them. and heard it with so much attention." Elinor smiled. more company with her than her house would hold. and glebe. Edward had two thousand pounds. After that. I did not know how far I was got. But Elinor had no such dependence. for since Edward would still be unable to marry Miss Morton. and Elinor one. "after thanks so ungraciously delivered as mine were on the occasion. and they were neither of them quite enough in love to think that three hundred and fifty pounds a-year would supply them with the comforts of life. One question after this only remained undecided. Ferrars's flattering language as only a lesser evil than his chusing Lucy Steele. Dashwood should advance anything. as he really wished not only to be better acquainted with him. he must think I have never forgiven him for offering. I am doing no injury to anybody but myself. to complete Mrs. with Delaford living. and the arguments with which I reconciled myself to the expediency of it.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 253 that I admired you. as to be entirely mistress of the subject. garden. who had heard so much of it from Colonel Brandon. I suppose. About four days after Edward's arrival Colonel Brandon appeared. and till I began to make comparisons between yourself and Lucy. Edward was not entirely without hopes of some favourable change in his mother towards him. and to give her the dignity of having." NOW he felt astonished himself that he had never yet been to the place. I WAS wrong in remaining so much in Sussex. one difficulty only was to be overcome. that he owed all his knowledge of the house. and his chusing herself had been spoken of in Mrs. Edward heard with pleasure of Colonel Brandon's being expected at the Cottage. which. to Elinor . and shook her head.

who. he did revive. and poor Nancy had not seven shillings in the world. in his evening hours at least. in hopes.--so I was very glad to give her five guineas to take her down to Exeter. she was sure. who. and all the encouragement of her mother's language. not even Nancy. that the gentlemen advanced in the good opinion of each other. where she thinks of staying three or four weeks with Mrs. poor soul! came crying to me the day after. brought him to Barton in a temper of mind which needed all the improvement in Marianne's looks. It would be needless to say.-"I do think. The letters from town. and he found fresh reason to rejoice in what he had done for Mr. for it could not be otherwise.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 254 from whence he usually returned in the morning. and such flattery. to vent her honest indignation against the jilting girl. Poor Mr. for it was but two days before Lucy called and sat a couple of hours with me. but their being in love with two sisters. since eventually it promoted the interest of Elinor. A three weeks' residence at Delaford. but you must send for him to Barton. to fall in with the Doctor again. Dashwood. and Miss Marianne must try to comfort him. "nothing was ever carried on so . Ferrars. made that mutual regard inevitable and immediate." Get any book for free on: www. to make it cheerful. on purpose we suppose to make a show with. as they advanced in each other's acquaintance. Edward! I cannot get him out of my head. Every thing was explained to him by Mrs. And I must say that Lucy's crossness not to take them along with them in the chaise is worse than all. No rumour of Lucy's marriage had yet reached him:--he knew nothing of what had passed. Burgess. would probably have been sufficient to unite them in friendship. at Oxford. in a great fright for fear of Mrs. as I tell her. early enough to interrupt the lovers' first tete-a-tete before breakfast. without any other attraction. and was now. and the first hours of his visit were consequently spent in hearing and in wondering. Ferrars. almost broken-hearted.Abika. Not a soul suspected anything of the matter. by all accounts. Jennings wrote to tell the wonderful tale." she continued. and pour forth her compassion towards poor Mr. however. he had little to do but to calculate the disproportion between thirty-six and seventeen. all the kindness of her welcome. and two sisters fond of each other. Their resemblance in good principles and good sense. which might otherwise have waited the effect of time and judgment. Edward. in disposition and manner of thinking. where. which a few days before would have made every nerve in Elinor's body thrill with transport. Among such friends. now arrived to be read with less emotion that mirth. had quite doted upon the worthless hussy. Mrs. for Lucy it seems borrowed all her money before she went off to be married. as well as not knowing how to get to Plymouth.

that his sister and I both think a letter of proper submission from him. addressed perhaps to Fanny.--I know of no submission that IS proper for me to make. Ferrars was the most unfortunate of women--poor Fanny had suffered agonies of sensibility--and he considered the existence of each. though not exactly in the manner pointed out by their brother and sister.--I am grown very happy. nor be permitted to appear in her presence. Mrs. Ferrars's heart. might not be taken amiss.-He thus continued: "Mrs. by a line to Oxford. than that she should thus be the means of spreading misery farther in the family. and that she wishes for nothing so much as to be on good terms with her children. but. It determined him to attempt a reconciliation. his wife should never be acknowledged as her daughter. if she might hereafter be induced to forgive her son. because. but Lucy's was infinitely worse. The secrecy with which everything had been carried on between them. Robert's offence was unpardonable. Ferrars has never yet mentioned Edward's .--and I should think you might NOW venture so far as to profess some concern for having ever formed the engagement which drew on you your mother's anger. had any suspicion of it occurred to the others. "A letter of proper submission!" repeated he. not a line has been received from him on the occasion. therefore. to our great astonishment. but that would not interest. give him a hint. Perhaps. with grateful wonder. and he called on Elinor to join with him in regretting that Lucy's engagement with Edward had not rather been fulfilled. and I shall.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 255 Mr. "would they have me beg my mother's pardon for Robert's ingratitude to HER. he is kept silent by his fear of offending. "because you have offended. perhaps a little humility may be convenient while acknowledging a second engagement. for we all know the tenderness of Mrs. and by her shewn to her mother." said Elinor." He agreed that he might." "You may certainly ask to be forgiven. Neither of them were ever again to be mentioned to Mrs. was rationally treated as enormously heightening the crime.Abika. and breach of honour to ME?--I can make no submission--I am grown neither humble nor penitent by what has passed. proper measures would have been taken to prevent the marriage. which does not surprise us. almost as imprudent in HER eyes as the first. under such a blow. "And when she has forgiven you." This paragraph was of some importance to the prospects and conduct of Edward. and even. Ferrars. however. Dashwood's strains were more solemn." Get any book for free on: www.

" After a visit on Colonel Brandon's side of only three or four days.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 256 He had nothing to urge against it. by the resuscitation of Edward. Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. he feared.-and enforced the assertion. the reproach of being too amiable. he did not feel the continuance of his existence secure. might give a sudden turn to his constitution. he was by no means inclined to be guided by it.-"And if they really DO interest themselves. had robbed her of one.-They were to go immediately to Delaford. he was to proceed on his journey to town. however. but still resisted the idea of a letter of proper submission. that Edward might have some personal knowledge of his future home. Mrs. just so violent and so steady as to preserve her from that reproach which she always seemed fearful of . after staying there a couple of nights. she judged it wisest. but when she found that. the two gentlemen quitted Barton together. CHAPTER 50 After a proper resistance on the part of Mrs. I shall think that even John and Fanny are not entirely without merit. as he declared a much greater willingness to make mean concessions by word of mouth than on paper. In spite of his being allowed once more to live. that in Miss Morton he would have a woman of higher rank and larger fortune. "in bringing about a reconciliation. to make it easier to him. and carry him off as rapidly as before.--told him. and personally intreat her good offices in his favour. it was resolved that. and assist his patron and friend in deciding on what improvements were needed to it. she had one again. but the crime and annihilation of Edward a few weeks ago. and he was listened to with unexpected calmness. and pronounced to be again her son. though perfectly admitting the truth of her representation. Edward was admitted to her presence. With apprehensive caution therefore it was revealed. for the publication of that circumstance. and from thence. while Miss Dashwood was only the daughter of a private gentleman with no more than THREE." said Marianne. instead of writing to Fanny. he should go to London. by every argument in her power.Abika. Get any book for free on: www. the similar annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any. from the experience of the past. Ferrars. and now. Ferrars at first reasonably endeavoured to dissuade him from marrying Miss Dashwood. For many years of her life she had had two sons. by observing that Miss Morton was the daughter of a nobleman with thirty thousand pounds. till he had revealed his present engagement. and therefore. in her new character of candour.

nor was anything promised either for the present or in future. were chiefly fulfilled. after experiencing. Ferrars came to inspect the happiness which she was almost ashamed of having authorised. They had in fact nothing to wish for.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 257 to submit--and therefore. Elinor. With an income quite sufficient to their wants thus secured to them. Mrs. and as served to prevent every suspicion of good-will. she issued her decree of consent to the marriage of Edward and Elinor. beyond the ten thousand pounds.-could chuse papers. though rather jumbled together. "I will not say that I am disappointed. Mrs. and Mrs. as usual. What she would engage to do towards augmenting their income was next to be considered. and she found in Elinor and her husband. and here it plainly . and after waiting some time for their completion. but the marriage of Colonel Brandon and Marianne. and rather better pasturage for their cows. however. he was by no means her eldest. from whence they could superintend the progress of the Parsonage. project shrubberies. for she was able to visit Edward and his wife in their Parsonage by Michaelmas. with an eager desire for the accommodation of Elinor. for while Robert was inevitably endowed with a thousand pounds a-year. after such an ungracious delay as she owed to her own dignity. broke through the first positive resolution of not marrying till every thing was ready. they had nothing to wait for after Edward was in possession of the living. that though Edward was now her only son. They were visited on their first settling by almost all their relations and friends. by Edward and Elinor. as usual. and invent a sweep. for certainly you have been one of the most fortunate young Get any book for free on: www. which had been given with Fanny. seemed the only person surprised at her not giving more.Abika. and even the Dashwoods were at the expense of a journey from Sussex to do them honour. my dear sister. but the readiness of the house. one of the happiest couples in the world. The first month after their marriage was spent with their friend at the Mansion-house. was making considerable improvements. It was as much. as was desired. Ferrars herself. as she really believed. "THAT would be saying too much. as they were walking together one morning before the gates of Delaford House. and direct every thing as they liked on the spot. not the smallest objection was made against Edward's taking orders for the sake of two hundred and fifty at the utmost. a thousand disappointments and delays from the unaccountable dilatoriness of the workmen. and the ceremony took place in Barton church early in the autumn." said John. to which Colonel Brandon. and more than was expected. Jennings's prophecies. by her shuffling excuses.

assiduous attentions. But. perhaps. and the prosperity which crowned it. proud of tricking Edward. that he had entirely supplanted his brother. and re-established him completely in her favour. it became speedily evident to both. therefore. and so forth."-But though Mrs. nobody can tell what may happen--for. his place. when people are much thrown together. which had at first drawn Robert into the scrape. it was only with the view imputed to him by his brother. His property here. Instead of talking of Edward. In that point. His attendance was by this means secured. and always treated them with the make-believe of decent affection. When Robert first sought her acquaintance. will do in securing every advantage of fortune. another conversation.-in short. was the principal instrument of his deliverance from it. he erred. with no other sacrifice than that of time and conscience. and see little of anybody else--and it will always be in your power to set her off to advantage. Some doubts always lingered in her mind when they parted. The whole of Lucy's behaviour in the affair. for as Colonel Brandon seems a great deal at home. they were never insulted by her real favour and preference. as it is. He was proud of his conquest. and in which she soon betrayed an interest even equal to his own. for her respectful humility. an unceasing attention to self-interest. as there is now standing in Delaford Hanger!--And though. it would give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon brother. Ferrars to his choice. they came gradually to talk only of Robert. and privately visited her in Bartlett's Buildings. however its progress may be apparently obstructed.--for though Lucy soon gave him hopes that his eloquence would convince her in TIME. however. as soon as the smallest opening was given for their exercise. and as there could be nothing to overcome but the affection of both. and the rest followed in course. and that only. he naturally expected that one or two interviews would settle the matter. his house. which could only be removed by another half hour's discourse with himself. and very proud of marrying privately without his Get any book for free on: www. and endless flatteries. THAT was due to the folly of Robert.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 258 women in the world.--a subject on which he had always more to say than on any other. reconciled Mrs.Abika. another visit. He merely meant to persuade her to give up the engagement. and in short. may be held forth as a most encouraging instance of what an earnest. The selfish sagacity of the latter. Marianne may not seem exactly the person to attract him-yet I think it would altogether be advisable for you to have them now frequently staying with you. I confess. was always wanted to produce this conviction. every thing is in such respectable and excellent condition!--and his woods!--I have not seen such timber any where in . and it was earned by them before many months had passed away. and the cunning of his wife. you may as well give her a chance--You understand me. Ferrars DID come to see them.

But perseverance in humility of conduct and messages. SHE was in every thing considered.--and if Edward might be judged from the ready discharge of his duties in every particular. as either leaving his brother too little. who had owed his mother no duty and therefore could have transgressed none. as either Robert or Fanny. she desired nothing so much as to give up its constant Get any book for free on: www. or bringing himself too much. and what Robert had done to succeed to it. Lucy became as necessary to Mrs. might have puzzled them still more. procured the forgiveness of Mrs. received very liberal assistance from Mrs. for her wish of bringing Marianne and Colonel Brandon together was hardly less earnest. and gratitude for the unkindness she was treated with. nothing could exceed the harmony in which they all lived . as was reasonable. for nothing ever appeared in Robert's style of living or of talking to give a suspicion of his regretting the extent of his income. was spoken of as an intruder.Abika. comprehended only Robert. and Elinor. What immediately followed is known. It was now her darling object. no less free from every wish of an exchange. in which their husbands of course took a part. They passed some months in great happiness at Dawlish. might have puzzled many people to find out. and from the regular cheerfulness of his spirits. from an increasing attachment to his wife and his home. and while Edward was never cordially forgiven for having once intended to marry her. Mrs.-and from thence returning to town. though rather more liberal than what John had expressed. at first. and always openly acknowledged. Elinor's marriage divided her as little from her family as could well be contrived. Ferrars. by the simple expedient of asking it. It was an arrangement. in self-condemnation for Robert's offence. which. was adopted. if not in its cause. as well as the frequent domestic disagreements between Robert and Lucy themselves. Ferrars. he might be supposed no less contented with his lot. indeed. Dashwood was acting on motives of policy as well as pleasure in the frequency of her visits at Delaford. without rendering the cottage at Barton entirely useless. Precious as was the company of her daughter to her. and setting aside the jealousies and ill-will continually subsisting between Fanny and Lucy. at Lucy's instigation. and led soon afterwards. though superior to her in fortune and birth. for she had many relations and old acquaintances to cut--and he drew several plans for magnificent cottages. justified in its effects. to be a favourite child.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 259 mother's consent. were on the best terms imaginable with the Dashwoods. however. still remained some weeks longer unpardoned. and Lucy. What Edward had done to forfeit the right of eldest son. to the highest state of affection and influence. by rapid degrees. They settled in town. procured her in time the haughty notice which overcame her by its graciousness. The forgiveness. Ferrars. for her mother and sisters spent much more than half their time with her.

was sincere. and frequently to enjoy himself. and the patroness of a village. or contracted an habitual gloom of temper.--and who still sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat! But so it was. He lived to exert. a man who had suffered no less than herself under the event of a former attachment. or died of a broken heart. entering on new duties. as afterwards in her more calm and sober judgment she had determined on. the mistress of a family. Get any book for free on: www. voluntarily to give her hand to another!--and THAT other. Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang. he might at once have been happy and rich.--instead of remaining even for ever with her mother. placed in a new home.-she found herself at nineteen. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible passion. She was born to overcome an affection formed so late in life as at seventeen. whom.Abika. and his punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness of Mrs. But that he was for ever inconsolable.--nor that he long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy. was to be the reward of all. as all those who best loved him. Smith. and that Marianne found her own happiness in forming his. gave him reason for believing that had he behaved with honour towards Marianne. and . two years before. that he fled from society.--her regard and her society restored his mind to animation. and of Marianne with regret. as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting. as it had once been to Willoughby. That his repentance of misconduct. She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions. need not be doubted.--in Marianne he was consoled for every past affliction. which thus brought its own punishment. and her whole heart became. her most favourite maxims. by stating his marriage with a woman of character. who. and his spirits to cheerfulness. With such a confederacy against her--with a knowledge so intimate of his goodness--with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself. though long after it was observable to everybody else--burst on her--what could she do? Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. and their own obligations. she had considered too old to be married. Colonel Brandon was now as happy. by her conduct.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 260 enjoyment to her valued friend. as much devoted to her husband. and to counteract. and to see Marianne settled at the mansion-house was equally the wish of Edward and Elinor. by general consent. a wife. and with no sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship. believed he deserved to be. as the source of her clemency. They each felt his sorrows. Marianne could never love by halves. was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend. which at last. in time. and finding her only pleasures in retirement and study. must not be depended on--for he did neither. submitting to new attachments.

Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage. there was that constant communication which strong family affection would naturally dictate. and living almost within sight of each . Brandon. nor his home always uncomfortable. and in his breed of horses and dogs. and in sporting of every kind. Mrs. or producing coolness between their husbands. they could live without disagreement between themselves. he found no inconsiderable degree of domestic felicity. and not very ineligible for being supposed to have a lover. For Marianne. that though sisters. without attempting a removal to Delaford.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 261 His wife was not always out of humour. let it not be ranked as the least considerable. Margaret had reached an age highly suitable for dancing. Jennings. THE END Get any book for free on: www. and made her his secret standard of perfection in woman. however--in spite of his incivility in surviving her loss--he always retained that decided regard which interested him in every thing that befell her.-and many a rising beauty would be slighted by him in after-days as bearing no comparison with Mrs. and fortunately for Sir John and Mrs.Abika. when Marianne was taken from them. Between Barton and Delaford.--and among the merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne.

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