by Jane Austen

Get any book for free on:

Get any book for free on:



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,

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:



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.

Get any book for free on:



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,

Get any book for free on:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

they were wise enough to be contented with the house as it was. and we will plan our improvements accordingly. 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. "it is too small for our family. for though her former style of life rendered many additions to the latter indispensable. but we will make ourselves tolerably comfortable for the present. as I dare say I shall. which was followed before the end of the day by a present of game. moreover. In such employments as these they were interrupted soon after breakfast the next day by the entrance of their landlord. will make it a very snug little cottage. But one must not expect every thing. He insisted. I could wish the stairs were handsome. by placing around them books and other possessions." In the mean time. These parlors are both too small for such parties of our friends as I hope to see often collected here.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 20 With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. though his entreaties were carried to a point of perseverance beyond civility. and I have some thoughts of throwing the passage into one of them with perhaps a part of the . for within an hour after he left them. with a new drawing room which may be easily added." said she. Dashwood was upon the whole well satisfied. though I suppose it would be no difficult matter to widen them. His countenance was thoroughly good-humoured. and each of them was busy in arranging their particular concerns. Marianne's pianoforte was unpacked and properly disposed of. and Elinor's drawings were affixed to the walls of their sitting room. He said much of his earnest desire of their living in the most sociable terms with his family. to form themselves a home. yet to add and improve was a delight to her. and endeavoring.Abika. and their comfort to be an object of real solicitude to him. and pressed them so cordially to dine at Barton Park every day till they were better settled at home. as it is too late in the year for improvements. they could not give offence. who called to welcome them to Barton. I shall see how much I am before-hand with the world in the spring. and so leave the remainder of that other for an entrance. this. Sir John Middleton was a good looking man about forty. Their arrival seemed to afford him real satisfaction. and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter. but it was too long for his young cousins to remember him. a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit arrived from the park. we may think about building. if I have plenty of money. He had formerly visited at Stanhill. and she had at this time ready money enough to supply all that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments. Perhaps in the spring. and a bed-chamber and garret above. that. His kindness was not confined to words. on conveying all their Get any book for free on: www. and to offer them every accommodation from his own house and garden in which theirs might at present be deficient. "As for the house itself. to be sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:



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,

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:

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

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

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

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



"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."

Get any book for free on:



"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

Get any book for free on:



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?"

Get any book for free on:



"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

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:



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,

Get any book for free on:



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

Get any book for free on:



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?"

Get any book for free on:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

for I dare say he never dropped the smallest hint of it to you or any of your family. She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement. because I know he has the highest opinion in the world of all your family. that would have been as painful as it was strong. ROBERT Ferrars--I never saw him in my life. Mrs. "You may well be surprised. "No. I confess. and I really thought my behaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. Not a soul of all my relations know of it but Anne. had not an immediate disbelief of the assertion attended it. indeed. Ferrars can be displeased. or a swoon. I should be very glad of your advice how to manage in such and uncomfortable situation as I am." What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment. at so serious an inquiry into her character. because it was always meant to be a great secret. . "Good heavens!" cried Elinor. and I am sure I do not at all wonder at it. "if it could be of any use to YOU to know my opinion of her. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?" And she did not feel much delighted with the idea of such a sister-in-law. and felt in no danger of an hysterical fit.Abika. she stood firm in incredulity. I am sorry you do not happen to know Mrs. "what do you mean? Are you acquainted with Mr." fixing her eyes upon Elinor. 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. and therefore I am a little surprised." She looked down as she said this. and I am sure has been faithfully kept so by me to this hour. But really I never understood that you were at all connected with that family. "not to Mr. that it ought to be explained. unable to divine the reason or object of such a declaration. however. you would not be so much surprised. Ferrars must seem so odd. and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods quite Get any book for free on: www. but. And I do not think Mr." "I dare say you are. but.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 89 "I cannot bear to have you think me impertinently curious. there is no occasion to trouble YOU. But if I dared tell you all." replied Lucy. 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. when he knows I have trusted you. and though her complexion varied." said Elinor. amiably bashful. with only one side glance at her companion to observe its effect on her. if I had not felt the greatest dependence in the world upon your secrecy. "to his eldest brother. "for to be sure you could have had no idea of it before. and I never should have mentioned it to you." "I am sorry I do NOT. in great astonishment." continued Lucy. And I am sure I should not have the smallest fear of trusting YOU.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

they could not be spared." "It will not be in my power to accept their invitation if they do. which was in full force at the end of every week. He will be there in February." Elinor was soon called to the card-table by the conclusion of the first rubber. From this time the subject was never revived by Elinor. of which she seemed so thoroughly aware that he was weary. and in spite of their numerous and long arranged engagements in Exeter. in spite of the absolute necessity of returning to fulfill them immediately. CHAPTER 25 Though Mrs. for she felt such conversations to be an indulgence which Lucy did not deserve. for self-interest alone could induce a woman to keep a man to an engagement. Sir John would not hear of their going. To be sure. The visit of the Miss Steeles at Barton Park was lengthened far beyond what the first invitation implied. 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. and which were dangerous to herself. and the confidential discourse of the two ladies was therefore at an end. otherwise London would have no charms for me. and when entered on by Lucy. but that he had not even the chance of being tolerably happy in marriage. it was treated by the former with calmness and caution.Abika. Their favour increased. I have not spirits for . and was particularly careful to inform her confidante. which sincere affection on HER side would have given. 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. Jennings was in the habit of spending a large Get any book for free on: www. they were prevailed on to stay nearly two months at the park. for nothing had been said on either side to make them dislike each other less than they had done before." "How unlucky that is! I had quite depended upon meeting you there. of her happiness whenever she received a letter from Edward. 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. your brother and sister will ask you to come to them. and dismissed as soon as civility would allow. to which both of them submitted without any reluctance.

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

in spite of all that had passed." she cried. which she could not approve of for Marianne.--I feel the justice of what Elinor has urged. and invariably disgusted by them. was not prepared to witness. in her pursuit of one object. so strong. less comfortable by our absence--Oh! no. fastidious as she was. kindest mother.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 105 "I thank you. ma'am. how much the heart of Marianne was in it. Whatever Marianne was desirous of. persuaded that such an excursion would be productive of much amusement to both her daughters. and it would give me such happiness. and perceiving through all her affectionate attention to herself. of the importance of that object to her. and saw to what indifference to almost every thing else she was carried by her eagerness to be with Willoughby again. my dearest. You will be under the care of a motherly good sort of woman. 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. to be able to accept it. should disregard whatever must be most wounding to her irritable feelings. who now understood her sister. It is very right that you SHOULD go to town. nothing should tempt me to leave her. and then began to foresee. Dashwood. Margaret and I shall be as much benefited by it as yourselves. as Elinor. and which on her own account she had particular reasons to avoid. from this separation. Dashwood could spare them perfectly well. Get any book for free on: www. That Marianne." Mrs. must not be a struggle. I would have every young woman of your condition in life acquainted with the manners and amusements of London. sincerely thank you. and she dared not explain the motive of her own disinclination for going to London. yes. insisted on their both accepting it directly. When you and the Middletons are . 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. Jennings repeated her assurance that Mrs. On being informed of the invitation. and merely referred it to her mother's decision. almost the greatest happiness I am capable of. But my mother. thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. Jennings' manners. 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. It should not. and Elinor. a variety of advantages that would accrue to them all. so full. Mrs. and if she were to be made less happy. with her usual cheerfulness.Abika. was such a proof. made no farther direct opposition to the plan. with warmth: "your invitation has insured my gratitude for ever." said Marianne. would not hear of their declining the offer upon HER account. "I am delighted with the plan. which may now be performed without any inconvenience to any one. should overlook every inconvenience of that kind. "it is exactly what I could wish.

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

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

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

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

Jennings. and then talked of head-aches. In this calm kind of way. and at length.Abika. but I have been forced to look about me a little. with such astonishment and . and the thoughts of both engaged elsewhere. that he even observed Marianne as she quitted the room. "Yes. Jennings soon came in. Elinor was disappointed too." This. said no more on the subject. Elinor answered in some distress that she was. He heard her with the most earnest attention. Get any book for free on: www. and over fatigues. with her usual noisy cheerfulness. Palmer's. and you know one has always a world of little odd things to do after one has been away for any time. as hardly left him the recollection of what civility demanded towards herself. making the usual inquiries about their journey. she asked if he had been in London ever since she had seen him last. but it has never been in my power to return to Barton. for it is a long while since I have been at home. both of them out of spirits. but at the same time her regard for Colonel Brandon ensured his welcome with her. but she was afraid of giving him pain by any enquiry after his rival. and of every thing to which she could decently attribute her sister's behaviour.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 110 It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness. and the manner in which it was said. and the friends they had left behind. and she was fearful that her question had implied much more curiosity on the subject than she had ever felt. how came you to conjure out that I should be in town today?" "I had the pleasure of hearing it at Mr. and she immediately left the room." said she. Colonel. with the uneasiness and suspicions they had caused to Mrs. I have been as busy as a bee ever since dinner! But pray. low spirits. Elinor wished very much to ask whether Willoughby were then in town. immediately brought back to her remembrance all the circumstances of his quitting that place. "Oh! Colonel. 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. I have been once or twice at Delaford for a few days. and settle my matters. She instantly saw that it was not unnoticed by him. Mrs. "almost ever since. by way of saying something. with some embarrassment. "Is your sister ill?" said he. with very little interest on either side. they continued to talk. but seeming to recollect himself." he replied. and began directly to speak of his pleasure at seeing them in London. "I am monstrous glad to see you--sorry I could not come before--beg your pardon. and then I have had Cartwright to settle with-Lord.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and so entirely forgot how long she had been in the room. Jennings. not as a loss to her of any possible good but as an escape from the worst and most irremediable of all evils. a blessing the most important. when her mind was no longer supported by the fever of suspense. 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. at present. with an unprincipled man. a weakened stomach. instead of bringing with his desire of a release any professions of regret. she hurried away to excuse herself from attending Mrs. acknowledged no breach of faith. that she dared not trust herself to speak. Determined not to quit Marianne. She paused over it for some time with indignant astonishment. denied all peculiar affection whatever-a letter of which every line was an insult. she was all astonishment to perceive Mrs. forgot that she had three letters on her lap yet unread. she was not aware that such language could be suffered to announce it. and confirm their separation for ever. the consequence of all this was felt in an aching head.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 125 before she began it. by saying. and many nights since she had really slept. and so bitter were her feelings against him. after seeing her safe off. and Elinor. a connection. Jennings. with a thoroughly good-humoured concern for its cause. then read it again and again. for life. returned to Marianne. as a deliverance the most real. whom she found attempting to rise from the bed. and a general nervous faintness. though hopeless of contributing. Jennings's chariot. for it was many days since she had any appetite. Elinor forgot the immediate distress of her sister. but every perusal only served to increase her abhorrence of the man. which Elinor procured for her directly. In her earnest meditations on the contents of the letter. lest she might wound Marianne still deeper by treating their disengagement. "Poor Elinor! how unhappy I make you!" Get any book for free on: www. which she knew had not been ordered till one. A glass of wine. and whom she reached just in time to prevent her from falling on the floor. on account of her sister being indisposed. on the very different mind of a very different person. faint and giddy from a long want of proper rest and food. who had no other connection whatever with the affair than what her heart gave him with every thing that passed. on the depravity of that mind which could dictate it. and now. and which proclaimed its writer to be deep in hardened villainy. that when on hearing a carriage drive up to the door. admitted the excuse most readily. and probably. made her more comfortable. as to send a letter so impudently cruel: a letter which. to her ease.Abika. she went to the window to see who could be coming so unreasonably early. and she was at last able to express some sense of her kindness. that it must bring a confession of his inconstancy. .

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

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

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

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

to have given me the power of clearing myself? 'The lock of hair.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 130 have told me of it. and in restless pain of mind and body she moved from one posture to another. and civility of the commonest kind must prevent such a hasty removal as that. (repeating it from the letter. 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." "Well then. "Elinor. but no attitude could give her ease." Another pause ensued. Marianne was greatly agitated. I cannot stay to endure the questions and remarks of all these people. her sister could with difficulty keep her on the bed at all. and for a moment she did so. Marianne!" "Yes. Some lavender drops. Willoughby. Jennings much more than civility." "And yet this woman--who knows what her art may have been?--how long it may have been premeditated. and from that time till Mrs. We owe Mrs. The Middletons and Palmers--how am I to bear their pity? The pity of such a woman as Lady Middleton! Oh. but I cannot stay here long. CHAPTER 30 Mrs. barbarously insolent!--Elinor. can he be justified?" "No. perhaps. in no possible way. which she was at length persuaded to take. till growing more and more hysterical. and without waiting to have her request of admittance answered. and it ended thus.Abika. Marianne. Jennings returned. "How do you do my dear?"--said she in a voice of great Get any book for free on: www. Can not we be gone to-morrow?" " . what would HE say to that!" Elinor advised her to lie down again. Jennings came immediately to their room on her return. and for some time was fearful of being constrained to call for assistance. I must go and comfort mama. however. I must go home. were of use. another day or two. she continued on the bed quiet and motionless.) which you so obligingly bestowed on me'--That is unpardonable. no one--he talked to me only of myself. opened the door and walked in with a look of real concern. where was your heart when you wrote those words? Oh. 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.Abika. Had she tried to speak. or had she been conscious of half Mrs. said I. When there. Mrs. and adjusting her dress for her as well as she could. who did justice to Mrs. walking on tiptoe out of the room. which her sister could not make or return for herself. made her those acknowledgments. he is not the only young man in the world worth having." Elinor. Miss Dashwood?--Poor thing! she looks very bad. But "no. He is to be married very soon--a good-for-nothing fellow! I have no patience with him. though believing it hardly possible that she could sit out the dinner. it is but too true. and returned her those civilities." She then went away. and felt that every thing was due to her which might make her at all less so.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 131 compassion to Marianne. Jennings's kindness. all I can say is. she would go down. But there is one comfort. with all the indulgent fondness Get any book for free on: www. Elinor even advised her against it. Their good friend saw that Marianne was unhappy. she could bear it very well. you may depend on it. but not a syllable escaped her lips. this calmness could not have been maintained. as if she supposed her young friend's affliction could be increased by noise. and I was almost ready to sink as it was. said no more. and the bustle about her would be less. my dear Miss Marianne. and with your pretty face you will never want admirers. pleased to have her governed for a moment by such a motive. while Marianne still remained on the bed. to the surprise of her sister. and sometimes almost ridiculous. Well. though looking most wretchedly. I have no notion of men's going on in this way. and if ever I meet him again. Elinor. Ay. "How is she. Taylor told me of it half an hour ago. The Parrys and Sandersons luckily are coming tonight you . She treated her therefore. Jennings's well-meant but ill-judged attentions to her. 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. who turned away her face without attempting to answer. And so I shall always say. and I wish with all my soul his wife may plague his heart out. and she was told it by a particular friend of Miss Grey herself. was ready to assist her into the dining room as soon as they were summoned to it. determined on dining with them. Well. and that will amuse her. my dear. poor thing! I won't disturb her any longer.-No wonder. else I am sure I should not have believed it. that if this be true. for she had better have her cry out at once and have done with. I will give him such a dressing as he has not had this many a day. though its effusions were often distressing. she ate more and was calmer than her sister had expected.

Had not Elinor. except that Mrs. however. Ellison would not be sorry to have Miss Grey married.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 132 of a parent towards a favourite child on the last day of its holidays. Jennings's endeavours to cure a disappointment in love. in the sad countenance of her sister. 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. that one day Miss Walker hinted to her. I remember her aunt very well. Taylor did say this morning. I would send all over the town for it. sell his horses. he has no business to fly off from his word only because he grows poor. she married a very wealthy man. Marianne was to have the best place by the fire. she could stay no longer. for she and Mrs. for they say he is all to pieces." "Do you know what kind of a girl Miss Grey is? Is she said to be amiable?" "I never heard any harm of her.Abika. But the family are all rich together. Well. but not handsome. she could have been entertained by Mrs. as soon as she was gone. nothing in the way of pleasure can ever be given up by the young men of this age. As soon. was to be tempted to eat by every delicacy in the house. Why don't he. Biddy Henshawe. Miss Marianne would have been ready to wait till matters came . turn off his servants. and make a thorough reform at once? I warrant you. as the consciousness of all this was forced by continual repetition on Marianne. by a variety of sweetmeats and olives. and promises marriage. but when a young man. Ellison could never agree. it won't come before it's wanted. and a good fire. she directly got up and hurried out of the room. it is the oddest thing to me. Did you ever see her? a smart. that she believed Mr. I am sure if I knew of any thing she would like. comes and makes love to a pretty girl. and to be amused by the relation of all the news of the day. in such a case. and Mrs. be who he will. seen a check to all mirth. and a sign to her sister not to follow her. and a richer girl is ready to have him. Jennings. stylish girl they say. 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. it don't signify talking. "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. But that won't do now-a-days. "Poor soul!" cried Mrs. With a hasty exclamation of Misery."-- Get any book for free on: www. Fifty thousand pounds! and by all accounts. and next to none on the other. indeed I hardly ever heard her mentioned. let his house. my dear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This however was not the case. I fear. Miss Dashwood. Her's. no society. Our ages were nearly the . Her fortune was large." He stopt a moment for recollection. was. in some measure. and she was allowed no liberty." "Indeed. "I have NOT forgotten it. and the blow was a severe one-but had her marriage been happy. the partiality of tender recollection. "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. no amusement.--but this will give you no idea--I must go farther back. till my father's point was gained. I hardly know where to begin. fervent as the attachment of your sister to Mr. She was married--married against her inclination to my brother. of my cousin's maid betrayed us. there is a very strong resemblance between them. Get any book for free on: www. I had hoped that her regard for me would support her under any difficulty. as we grew up. My brother did not deserve her. when I quitted Barton last October. A short account of myself." He looked pleased by this remembrance. as well in mind as person.Abika. but at last the misery of her situation. no less unfortunate. 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. who was at once her uncle and guardian." answered Elinor. an orphan from her infancy. is all that can be said for the conduct of one. your sister Marianne.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 140 "You shall. judging from my present forlorn and cheerless gravity. I cannot remember the time when I did not love Eliza. the same eagerness of fancy and spirits. My brother had no regard for her. will be necessary. was such. and from our earliest years we were playfellows and friends. This lady was one of my nearest relations. The treachery. and for some time it did. I believe. I believe. You will find me a very awkward narrator. I was banished to the house of a relation far distant." sighing heavily. "If I am not deceived by the uncertainty. Willoughby and it was. The same warmth of heart. you might think me incapable of having ever felt. a few months must have reconciled me to it. and under the guardianship of my father. to be brief. and my affection for her. so young as I then was. as perhaps. for me. and added. And this. for she experienced great unkindness. On such a subject. overcame all her resolution. At seventeen she was lost to me for ever. and then. with another sigh. as resembling. or at least I should not have now to lament it. We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland. he did not even love her. I had depended on her fortitude too far. and it SHALL be a short one. "can I have little temptation to be diffuse. went on. and. though from a different cause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

upon my word. were perfectly kind. Jennings at the door of her carriage. and we spent the rest of the day with Mrs. to Mrs. Their attention to our comfort. and introduce him to Sir John and Lady Middleton. extremely glad indeed. that really she had no leisure for going any where." Mrs. I understand. he eyed him with a curiosity which seemed to say. that he only wanted to know him to be rich. they are people of large fortune. you must introduce me to THEM." "I am extremely glad to hear it. John Dashwood very soon. I assure you. that she should not stand upon ceremony. But so it ought to be. for they were all cousins. for not coming too. he asked Elinor to walk with him to Conduit Street. who came to tell her that his mistress waited for them at the door. and was not sorry to be spared the necessity of answering him. and every civility and accommodation that can serve to make your situation pleasant might be reasonably expected. most attentively civil. THIS morning I had fully intended to call on you. As my mother-in-law's relations.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 152 to take Harry to see the wild beasts at Exeter Exchange. and bring her sisters to see her. I am come here to bespeak Fanny a seal. to be equally civil to HIM. their friendliness in every particular. or something like it. they are related to you.Abika. It was a great satisfaction to us to hear it. Jennings. that ever was. "but she was so much engaged with her mother. I understand she is a woman of very good fortune. Dashwood attended them down stairs. They are excellent neighbours to you in the country. But tomorrow I think I shall certainly be able to call in Berkeley Street. His manners to THEM. and she should certainly wait on Mrs. and be introduced to your friend Mrs. by the arrival of Mrs. After staying with them half an hour. and you all seemed to enjoy it beyond any thing. I shall be happy to show them every respect. but one has always so much to do on first coming to town." Elinor did feel a little ashamed of her brother. and on Colonel Brandon's coming in soon after himself. The weather was Get any book for free on: www. He came with a pretence at an apology from their . And the Middletons too. 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. Mr. took leave. is more than I can express. he said. His visit was duly paid. if I could possibly find a spare half hour. Jennings. however. and repeating his hope of being able to call on them the next day. Jennings. Jennings's servant." "Excellent indeed. Ferrars. was introduced to Mrs. Harry was vastly pleased. assured him directly. though calm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

for bound as she was by her promise of secrecy to Lucy. and painful as the consequences of her still continuing in an error might be. but it was not a thing to be urged against the wishes of everybody. Jennings's house. at least all the morning. that this is a kind of talking which I cannot bear. at the particular request of the Middletons. "You know. the newspapers announced to the world.Abika. 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. I cannot descend to be tricked out of assurances. and influenced. that the lady of Thomas Palmer. Get any book for free on: www. and the Miss Dashwoods. produced a temporary alteration in the disposal of her time. was that Edward would not often expose her or himself to the distress of hearing Marianne's mistaken warmth. the engagements of her young . CHAPTER 36 Within a few days after this meeting. "Could not she see that we wanted her gone!--how teazing to Edward!" "Why so?--we were all his friends. on her leaving them. you ought to recollect that I am the last person in the world to do it. she went thither every morning as soon as she was dressed. All that she could hope. For their own comfort they would much rather have remained. at least to all those intimate connections who knew it before. spent the whole of every day. for as she wished to be as much as possible with Charlotte. and Elinor dared not follow her to say more. for he would go. in fact was as little valued. who would have outstaid him. she could give no information that would convince Marianne. in every day in Conduit Street. in a like degree. and Lucy has been the longest known to him of any." She then left the room. Their hours were therefore made over to Lady Middleton and the two Miss Steeles. as I must suppose to be the case. It is but natural that he should like to see her as well as ourselves. Lucy.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 168 her But and two persuasion that Lucy could not stay much longer. she was obliged to submit to it. soon afterwards went away. had his visit lasted hours. was safely delivered of a son and heir. This event. Jennings's happiness. that are not really wanted. Esq. Elinor. by whom their company. in Mrs. If you only hope to have your assertion contradicted. and did not return till late in the evening. even this encouragement failed. "What can bring her here so often?" said Marianne." Marianne looked at her steadily. highly important to Mrs. and said. as it was professedly sought. a very interesting and satisfactory paragraph.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and her resolution equal to any thing. he went on. to make it twelve hundred. We consulted together. and one cannot wonder at it. 'that we had asked your sisters instead of them. while your kind friend there.' says poor Fanny in her affectionate way. Duty. it seemed too awful a moment for speech. All that Mrs. Ferrars could say to make him put an end to the engagement.' said she.'" Here he stopped to be thanked. and at last she determined to send for Edward. was of no avail. told him she would settle on him the Norfolk estate. was attending her daughter. in case of his marrying Miss Morton. her constitution is a good one." he continued. "has suffered dreadfully. it could not be in THAT quarter. so unfeeling before. so much confidence had been placed! It was quite out of the benevolence of her heart.Abika. 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. offered even. 'I might have thought myself safe. and so far Get any book for free on: www. well-behaved girls. I never thought Edward so stubborn. 'THERE. Ferrars suffered. that she had asked these young women to her house. where so much kindness had been shewn.' She was quite in an . when matters grew desperate. after being so deceived!-meeting with such ingratitude. "What poor Mrs. merely because she thought they deserved some attention. which being done. Donavan says there is nothing materially to be apprehended. But I would not alarm you too much. however. is not to be described. And now to be so rewarded! 'I wish. to be sure. represented to him the certain penury that must attend the match. Poor Fanny! she was in hysterics all yesterday. She has borne it all. for otherwise we both wished very much to have invited you and Marianne to be with us. which. assisted too as you may well suppose by my arguments. she would never see him again. clear of land-tax. While she with the truest affection had been planning a most eligible connection for him. with all my heart. when first Fanny broke it to her. His mother explained to him her liberal designs. every thing was disregarded. with the fortitude of an angel! She says she never shall think well of anybody again. as to what should be done. and would be pleasant companions. and Fanny's entreaties. affection. "Your sister. 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. His own two thousand pounds she protested should be his all. if he still persisted in this low connection. He came. But I am sorry to relate what ensued. were harmless. brings in a good thousand a-year. Mrs.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 181 They all looked their assent. and in opposition to this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

satisfied with myself. delighted with every body! But in this.-Why was it necessary to call?" "It was necessary to my own pride. in my way to Honiton. The sight of your dear sister. "less than was due to the past. impatiently. and I even doubted whether I could see her again. I was miserable. for I went. it was a blessed journey!" He stopped. and in all likelihood much more than was justified by the future. Thank Heaven! it DID torture me. as the event declared. God!--what a hard-hearted rascal I was!" They were both silent for a few moments. and left her miserable--and left her hoping never to see her again. and saw her miserable. and I remember how happy. I felt.Abika.--It won't do. I could not bear to leave the country in a manner that might lead you. and. to heighten the matter. You were all gone I do not know where." "Why did you call. so fully. you cannot have an idea of the comfort it gives me to look back on my own misery. . 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. her disappointment. Her sorrow. at best.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 222 To see Marianne. Elinor first spoke. however. I found her alone. so firmly resolved within my self on doing right! A few hours were to have engaged her to me for ever. her deep regret. that all my past sufferings under it are only triumph and exultation to me now. My journey to town--travelling with my own horses. I approached her with a sense of guilt that almost took from me the power of dissembling. with all her kindness and confidence. left all that I loved. would be dreadful. was really dreadful. beyond a doubt. Smith and myself-and I resolved therefore on calling at the cottage. rascally folly of my own heart. Miss Dashwood. I owe such a grudge to myself for the stupid. I saw her. I undervalued my own magnanimity. how gay were my spirits. Willoughby?" said Elinor. to suspect any part of what had really passed between Mrs. Mr. I was only indifferent. Get any book for free on: www. I went. I cannot think of it. the picture so soothing!--oh. or the rest of the neighbourhood. however. and keep to my resolution. when I told her that I was obliged to leave Devonshire so immediately--I never shall forget it--united too with such reliance. "a note would have answered every purpose. I had left her only the evening before. and went to those to whom. our last interview of friendship. such confidence in me!--Oh. Well.--Then came your dear mother to torture me farther. "Did you tell her that you should soon return?" "I do not know what I told her. In that point." he replied. as I walked from the cottage to Allenham.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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,

Get any book for free on:



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."

Get any book for free on:



"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.

Get any book for free on:




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

Get any book for free on:



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.

Get any book for free on:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"after thanks so ungraciously delivered as mine were on the occasion. to complete Mrs. were no better than these:--The danger is my own. garden. and Colonel Brandon therefore walked every night to his old quarters at the Park. Edward was not entirely without hopes of some favourable change in his mother towards him. as to be entirely mistress of the subject. extent of the parish. Dashwood's satisfaction. but I told myself it was only friendship. and his chusing herself had been spoken of in . and heard it with so much attention. and to give her the dignity of having. and glebe. Edward had two thousand pounds. Ferrars's flattering language as only a lesser evil than his chusing Lucy Steele. to Elinor herself. I WAS wrong in remaining so much in Sussex." said he. Dashwood should advance anything. at present. that he owed all his knowledge of the house. They were brought together by mutual affection. and the arguments with which I reconciled myself to the expediency of it. But so little interest had be taken in the matter. was all that they could call their own. Get any book for free on: www. as he really wished not only to be better acquainted with him. and on THAT he rested for the residue of their income. for it was impossible that Mrs. for since Edward would still be unable to marry Miss Morton. condition of the land. she feared that Robert's offence would serve no other purpose than to enrich Fanny. Edward heard with pleasure of Colonel Brandon's being expected at the Cottage. 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. After that. I did not know how far I was got." NOW he felt astonished himself that he had never yet been to the place. and rate of the tithes. But Elinor had no such dependence. more company with her than her house would hold. I suppose." Elinor smiled. with the warmest approbation of their real friends. between them. and shook her head. but to have an opportunity of convincing him that he no longer resented his giving him the living of Delaford--"Which. who had heard so much of it from Colonel Brandon. and till I began to make comparisons between yourself and Lucy.SENSE AND SENSIBILITY 253 that I admired you. their intimate knowledge of each other seemed to make their happiness certain--and they only wanted something to live upon. for the first time since her living at Barton. one difficulty only was to be overcome. which. Edward was allowed to retain the privilege of first comer. he must think I have never forgiven him for offering. One question after this only remained undecided.Abika. with Delaford living. I am doing no injury to anybody but myself. About four days after Edward's arrival Colonel Brandon appeared. and Elinor one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sign up to vote on this title
UsefulNot useful