Chapter 31 From a night of more sleep than she'd expected,
Marianne awoke the next morning to the same consciousness of misery in which she had closed her eyes.
Eleanor encouraged her as much as possible to talk of what she felt.
And before breakfast was ready,
They had gone through the subject again and again.
Sometimes she could believe Willoughby to be as unfortunate and innocent as herself.
And at others lost every consolation in the impossibility of acquitting him.
Her heart was hardened against the belief of Mrs Jennings entering into her sorrows with any compassion.
No,
No,
No,
It cannot be!
She cried.
She cannot feel.
Her kindness is not sympathy.
Her good nature not tenderness.
She wants his gossip.
Eleanor had not needed this to be assured of the injustice to which her sister was often led in her opinions of others.
And the two great importance placed on her,
The delicacies of a strong sensibility.
Marianne expected from other people the same opinions and feelings as her own.
And she judged their motives by the immediate effect of their actions on herself.
Thus a circumstance occurred while the sisters were together in their own room after breakfast.
Which sank the heart of Mrs Jennings still low in her estimation.
Because through her own weakness,
It chanced to prove a source of truth.
Pain to herself.
Though Mrs Jennings was governed in it by an impulse of the utmost goodwill.
With a letter in her outstretched hand,
She entered into their room saying,
Now,
My dear,
I bring you something I'm sure will do you good.
Marianne heard enough.
In one moment,
Her imagination placed before her a letter from Willoughby.
Full of tenderness and contrition and instantly followed by Willoughby himself.
The work of one move.
Was destroyed by the next.
The handwriting of her mother,
Never till then unwelcome,
Was before her,
And in the acuteness of the disappointment which followed such an ecstasy of more than hope,
Marianne felt as if,
Till that instant,
She had never suffered.
The cruelty of Mrs Jennings no language could have expressed,
And now she could reproach her only by the tears which streamed from her eyes with passionate violence.
But the letter when she was calm enough to read it.
Thought little comfort.
Willoughby filled every page.
Her mother still confident of their engagement.
Had only been roused by Eleanor's application to entreat from Marianne greater openness towards them both.
And this with such tenderness towards her,
Such affection for Willoughby and such a conviction of their future happiness.
That she wept with agony through the whole of it.
All her impatience to be at home again now returned,
And she was wildly urgent to be gone.
Eleanor offered no counsel of her own,
Except of patience till their mother's wishes could be known.
And at length she obtained her sister's consent to wait for that knowledge.
Mrs Jennings went out alone for the rest of the morning.
Eleanor then sat down to write to her mother an account of what had passed and entreat her directions for the future,
While Marianne,
Who came into the drawing room on Mrs.
Jennings' going away,
Remained fixed at the table where Eleanor wrote.
Watching the advancement of her pen.
Grieving over her for the hardship of such a task.
And grieving still more fondly over its effect on her mother.
In this manner they continued about a quarter of an hour.
When Marianne was startled by a rap at the door.
Who can this be?
Cried Eleanor.
So early too!
I thought we'd been safe!
Marianne moved to the window.
It is Colonel Brandon.
Said she with vexation.
He will not come in as Mrs Jennings is from home,
Said Eleanor.
I will not trust to that.
Said Marianne,
Retreating to her own room.
A man who has nothing to do with his own time has no conscience in the inclusion on that of others.
The event proved her conjecture right.
Though it was founded on injustice and error,
For Colonel Brandon did come here.
I met Mrs Jennings in Bond Street.
Said he after the first salutation,
And she encouraged me to come on,
And I was the more easily encouraged because I thought it probable I might find you alone.
My object.
My wish.
Is to be a means of giving comfort to your sister's mind.
My regard for her,
For yourself,
For your mother,
Will you allow me to prove it?
By relating some circumstances which nothing but a very sincere regard.
I think I'm justified.
Is stopped.
I understand you.
Said Eleanor.
You have something to tell me of Mr Willoughby.
You're telling it will be the greatest act of friendship that can be shown Marianne.
So pray let me hear it.
You will find me a very awkward narrator,
Miss Dashwood.
I hardly know where to begin.
A short account of myself will be necessary and it shall be a short one.
On such a subject.
I have little temptation to be diffused.
You've probably entirely forgotten a conversation between us one evening at Barton Park,
Which I alluded to a lady I'd once known,
As resembling in some measure Love,
Sister Marianne.
Indeed,
Answered Helena.
I have not forgotten it.
Colonel Brandon looked pleased by this remembrance and added,
If I'm not deceived by the uncertainty.
The Partiality of Tender Recollection There is a very strong resemblance between them.
In mind as well as in person.
This lady was one of my nearest relations,
An orphan from her infancy,
And under the guardianship of my father.
Our ages were nearly the same and from our earliest years we were play fellows and friends.
I cannot remember the time.
When I did not love Eliza.
And my affection for her as we grew up was such as you might think me incapable of having ever felt.
Hers for me was,
I believe,
Fervent as the attachment of your sister to Mr Willoughby.
And was,
Though from a different cause,
No less unfortunate.
At 17,
She was lost to me forever.
She was married against her inclination to my brother.
Her fortune was large and our family estate much encumbered.
My brother did not deserve her.
He did not even love her.
I had hoped her regard for me would support her under any difficulty.
And for some time it did.
But at last the misery of her situation overcame all resolution.
We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland.
The treachery or folly of my cousin's maid betrayed us.
I was banished to the house of a relation far distant,
And she was allowed no liberty,
Society,
Amusement,
Until my father's point was gained.
I had depended on her fortitude too far,
And the blow was a severe one.
But had her marriage been happy,
So young as I then was?
A few months must have reconciled me to it.
This however was not the case.
My brother had no regard for her and from the first he treated her unkindly.
She resigned herself at first to all the misery of her situation.
But can we wonder that with such a husband to provoke inconstancy,
And without a friend to advise or restrain her,
She should fall?
Had I remained in England,
Perhaps?
But I meant to promote the happiness of both by removing from her for years.
The shock which her marriage had given me.
Was nothing to what I felt when I heard about two years afterwards.
Of her divorce.
It was that which threw this glue in my face.
Even now the recollection of what I suffered.
Eleanor affected by his relation and still more by his distress.
Could not speak.
He saw her concern and coming to her took her hand.
Pressed it and kissed it with grateful respect.
A few minutes more of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure.
It was nearly three years after this unhappy period before I returned.
My first care when I did arrive was of course to seek for her.
I could not trace her beyond her first seducer and there was every reason to fear that she had removed from him only to sink deeper into a life of sin.
At last,
However,
I did.
And after I'd been for six months in England,
I found her.
Regard for a former servant of my own,
Who had since fallen into misfortune,
Carried me to visit him into a sponging house where he was confined for debt.
And there in the same house under a similar confinement.
Was my unfortunate sister.
So altered,
So faded,
Worn down by acute suffering of every kind.
She was to all appearance in the last stage of consumption.
Nothing could be done for her beyond giving time for better preparation for death.
And that was what was given.
I saw her placed in comfortable lodgings and under proper attendance.
I visited her every day during the rest of her short life.
I was even with her in her last moments.
Again he stopped to recover himself and Eleanor spoke her feelings in an exclamation of tender concern.
Your sister,
I hope,
Cannot be offended.
Said he,
By the resemblance I fancied between her and my poor disgraced relation.
Oh,
Miss Dashwood,
A subject such as this is as dangerous to handle it at all.
I will be more collected.
More concise.
She left to my care her only child,
A little girl,
The offspring of her first guilty connection,
Who was then about three years old.
It was a valued,
Precious trust to me and I gladly would have discharged it in the strictest sense by watching over her education myself.
Had the nature of our desituations allowed it.
But I had no family,
No home,
And my little Eliza was therefore placed at school.
I saw her there whenever I could,
And after the death of my brother,
She frequently visited me at Delaford.
It is now three years ago.
She's just reached her 14th year.
That I removed her from school to place her under the care of a very respectable woman residing in Dorsetshire.
She has the charge of four or five girls of about the same age.
For two years I had every reason to be pleased with her situation.
But last February she suddenly disappeared.
I had allowed her at her earnest desire to go to Bath with one of her young friends,
Who was attending her father there for his health.
I knew him to be a very good sort of man as I thought well of his daughter.
Better than she deserved.
With the most obstinate and ill-judged secrecy,
She would tell nothing.
Though she certainly knew all.
He,
Her father,
Could really,
I believe,
Give no information,
For he'd been generally confined to the house,
While the girls were ranging over the towns,
And making what acquaintance they chose.
In short,
I could learn nothing but that little Eliza was gone.
All the rest for eight long months were left to conjecture.
Whatever I thought,
Whatever I feared may be imagined.
Good heavens!
Cried Eleanor.
Could it be?
Willoughby?
The first news that reached me of her came in a letter from herself.
He continued.
It was forwarded to me from Delaford and I received it on the very morning of our intended party to Whitwell.
This was the reason of my leaving Barton so suddenly.
Little did Mr.
Willoughby imagine,
I suppose,
When his looks censured me for incivility in breaking up the party,
That I was called away to the relief of one whom he'd made poor and miserable.
Had he known it,
What would have availed?
Would he have been less gay or less happy in the smiles of your sister?
No,
He'd already done that which no man who can feel for another would do.
He'd left the girl whose youth and innocence he'd seduced in a situation of the utmost distress.
He left her promising to return.
But he neither returned nor looked.
This is beyond everything.
Exclaimed Elena.
His character is now before you,
" said Colonel Brandon.
Expensive,
Dissipated,
And worse than both.
Knowing all this,
As I must have known it many weeks,
Guess what I must have felt on seeing your sister as fond of him as ever.
Then being assured that she was to marry him.
When I came to you last week and found you alone,
I came determined to know the truth.
To suffer you could all be so deceived.
To see your sister.
But what could I do?
I had no hope of interfering with success.
And sometimes I thought your sister's influence might yet reclaim him.
But now,
After such dishonourable usage,
Who can tell what his designs were on her?
Whatever they may have been.
Turn with gratitude towards her own condition when she compares it with that of my poor Eliza.
Chapter 32 When the particulars of this conversation were repeated by Miss Dashwood to her sister,
As they were very soon done,
The effect on her was not entirely such as the former had hoped to see.
Note that Marianne appeared to distrust the truth of any part of it.
For she listened to it all with the most steady and submissive attention,
Made neither objection nor remark.
Attempted no vindication it will be.
And seemed to show by her tears she felt it to be impossible.
But though this behaviour assured Eleanor the conviction of his guilt was carried to her mind,
Though she saw with satisfaction the effect of it.
In her no longer avoiding Colonel Brandon when he called.
In her speaking to him,
She did not see her less wretched.
She felt the loss of Willoughby's character yet more heavily than she'd felt the loss of his heart.
His seduction and desertion of Miss Williams preyed altogether so much on her spirits,
She could not bring herself to speak of what she felt,
Even to Eleanor.
And brooding over her sorrows in silence.
Gave more pain to her sister than could have been communicated by the most open and frequent confession of them.
To give the feelings or the language of Mrs Dashwood on receiving and answering Eleanor's letter.
Would be only to give repetition of what her daughters had already felt and said.
Of a disappointment hardly less painful than Marianne's and an indignation even greater than Eleanor's.
Against the interest of her own individual comfort,
Mrs Dashwood determined it would be better for Marianne to be anywhere at that time than at Barton,
Where everything within her view would be bringing back the past in the strongest and most afflicting manner.
She recommended it to her daughters,
Therefore,
By all means not to shorten their visit to Mrs.
Jennings.
A variety of occupations,
Objects and company which could not be procured at Barton would be inevitable there,
And might yet,
She hoped,
Cheat Marianne at times into some interest beyond herself.
From all danger of seeing Willoughby again,
Her mother considered her to be at least equally safe in town as in the country.
Since his acquaintance must now be dropped by all who call themselves her friends.
She had yet another reason for wishing her children to remain where they were.
A letter from her son-in-law told her he and his wife were to be in town before the middle of February.
And she judged it right.
They should sometimes see their brother.
Marianne had promised to be guided by her mother's opinion,
And she submitted to it,
Therefore,
Without opposition,
Though it proved perfectly different from what she wished and expected,
And by requiring her long continuance in London,
It deprived her of the only possible alleviation of her wretchedness.
The personal sympathy of her mother.
But it was a matter of great consolation to her that what brought evil to herself would bring good to her sister.
And Eleanor,
On the other hand,
Suspecting it would not be in her power to avoid Edward entirely,
Comforted herself by thinking that though their longer stay would therefore militate her against her own happiness.
It would be better for Marianne than an immediate return into Devonshire.
Her carefulness in guarding her sister from ever hearing Willoughby's name mentioned was not thrown away.
Marianne,
Though without knowing it herself,
Reaped all its advantage,
For neither Mrs.
Jennings nor Sir John,
Nor even Mrs.
Palmer herself,
Ever spoke of him before her.
Sir John could not have thought it possible.
A man of whom he had always had such reason to think well.
Such a good-natured fellow!
It was an unaccountable business.
He wished to meet the devil with all his heart.
Mrs Palmer,
In her way,
Was equally angry.
She was dead.
He was determined to drop his acquaintance immediately and was very thankful she'd never been acquainted with him at all.
She hated him so much,
She was resolved never to mention his name again,
And she should tell everybody she saw how good for nothing he was.
The calm and polite unconcern of Lady Middleton on the occasion was a happy relief to Eleanor's spirits.
It was a great comfort to her to know there was one who would meet her without feeling any curiosity after particulars or any anxiety for her sister's health.
Lady Middleton expressed her sense of the affair about once every day.
Or twice if the subject occurs.
By saying,
It really is very shocking indeed.
And by the means of this continual though gentle vent.
Was able not only to see the Miss Dashwoods from the first without the smallest emotion,
But very soon to see them without recollecting a word of the matter.
And thought herself at liberty.
To attend to the interest of her own assemblies,
And therefore determined,
That as Mrs.
Willoughby would at once be a woman of elegance and fortune,
To leave her card with her as soon as she married.
Colonel Brandon's delicate,
Unobtrusive inquiries were never unwelcome to Miss Dashwood.
His chief reward for the painful exertion of disclosing past sorrows and present humiliations.
Were given in the pitying eye with which Marianne sometimes observed him.
And the gentleness of her voice whenever she was obliged to speak to him.
These assured him his exertion had produced an increase of goodwill towards himself.
And these gave Eleanor hopes of it being further augmented hereafter.
Early in February,
Ellen had the painful office of informing her sister Willoughby was married.
She had taken care to have the intelligence conveyed to herself as soon as it was known the ceremony was over.
As she was desirous that Marianne should not receive the first notice of it from the public papers.
She received the news with resolute composure.
And at first shed no tears.
But after a short time,
They would burst out and for the rest of the day,
She was in a state hardly less pitiable than when she first learnt to expect the event.
The Willoughbys left town as soon as they were married.
And Ellen now hoped,
As there could be no danger of her seeing either of them,
To prevail on her sister to go out again by degrees,
As she had done so before.
About this time,
The two Miss Steeles lately arrived at their cousin's house in Barclay,
Buildings,
Holborn.
Presented themselves again before their more grand relations in Conduit and Barclay Street.
Eleanor only was sorry to see them.
Their presence always gave her pain and she hardly knew how to make a very gracious return to the overpowering delight of Lucy in finding her still in town.
I should have been quite disappointed if I had not found you here still.
Said she repeatedly with a strong emphasis on the word.
It would have been such a great pity to have went away before your brother and sister came.
Now to be sure you will be in no hurry to be gone.
Well,
My dear,
Said Mrs Jennings,
And how did you travel?
Not in the stage,
I assure you,
Replied Miss Steel with a quick exultation.
We came post all the way and had a very smart boat to attend us.
Dr Davies was coming to town so we thought we'd join him in a post chase.
Oh,
Oh!
" cried Mrs Jennings,
Very pretty indeed.
And the doctor is a single man,
I warrant you.
10 now.
Set me still,
Affectedly,
Simply.
Laughs at me about the doctor and I cannot think why.
My cousins say they're sure I've never made a conquest.
But for my part I declared I'd never think about him from one hour's end to the next.
Ay,
Ay,
That is very pretty talking,
But it won't do.
The doctor is the man,
I see.
Oh indeed,
Replied her cousin with affected earnestness,
And I beg you will contradict it if you ever hear it talked of.
Mrs Jennings directly gave her gratifying assurance that she certainly would not and Miss Steel was made completely happy.
I suppose you will go and stay with your brother and sister,
Miss Dashwood,
When they come to town?
Said Lucy.
No,
I do not think we shall.
What a charming thing it is that Mrs Dashwood can spare you both for so long a time together.
Long a time indeed,
Interposed Mrs Jennings.
Why,
But their visit has just begun.
I'm sorry we can't see your sister,
Miss Dashwood.
Should we steal?
I'm sorry she's not well.
You are very good.
My sister will be equally sorry to miss the pleasure of seeing you.
But she has been very much plagued lately with nervous headaches which make her unfit for company or conversation.
Jai Jai Lana.
Oh dear,
That is a great pity.
But such old friends as Lucy and me,
I think she might see us.
Then Eleanor with great civility.
Promptly declined the proposal.
Chapter 33 After some opposition,
Marianne yielded to her sister's entreaties and consented to go out with her and Mrs Jennings one morning.
For half an hour.
She expressly conditioned,
However,
For paying no visits and would do no more than accompany them to graze in Sackville Street.
Where Eleanor was carrying on negotiation for the exchange of a few old-fashioned jewels of her mother.
When they stopped at the door,
Mrs Jennings recollected there was a lady at the other end of the street on whom she ought to call.
And as she had no business at Grey's,
It was resolved she should pay her visit and return for them.
On ascending the stairs,
The Miss Dashwoods found one gentleman only was standing there,
And it is probable that Eleanor was not without hope of exciting his politeness to a quicker dispatch.
He was giving orders for a toothpick case for himself and till its size,
Shape and ornaments were determined,
He had no leisure to bestow any other attention on the two ladies than what was compromised in three or four very broad stares.
Marianne was fared from the troublesome feelings of content and resentment on this impertinent examination of their features by remaining unconscious of it all.
For she was as well able to collect her thoughts within herself and be as ignorant of what was passing round her in Mr Grey's shop as in her own bedroom.
At last the affair was decided.
The ivory,
The gold and the pearls all received their appointment,
And the gentleman,
Having named the last day on which his existence could be continued without the possession of the toothpick case,
Drew on his gloves with leisurely care,
And bestowing another glance on the moustache woods,
Walked off with a happy air of real conceit.
And affected in difference.
Eleanor lost no time in bringing her business forward.
And was on the point of concluding it when another gentleman presented himself at her side.
She turned her eyes towards his face and found him with some surprise to be her brother.
Their affection and pleasure in meeting.
Were just enough to make a very creditable appearance in Mr Grey's shop.
John Dashwood was really far from being sorry to see his sisters again.
It rather gave them satisfaction.
And his enquiries after their mother were respectful and attentive.
I wish very much to call upon you yesterday.
Said he,
But it was impossible for we were obliged to take Harry to see the wild beast at Exeter Exchange,
And we spent the rest of the day with the Mrs Ferrer's.
But tomorrow I think I shall certainly be able to call in Barclay Street and be introduced to your friend Mrs Jennings.
And the Middletons too.
You must introduce me to them.
They are excellent neighbours to you in the country,
I understand.
Excellent indeed.
Their attention to our comfort and their friendliness in every particular is more than I can express.
Siddhalina.
I am extremely glad to hear it.
But so it ought to be,
They are people of large fortune and related to you,
And every civility might be reasonably expected.
And so you are comfortably settled in your little cottage and want for nothing.
Edward brought us the most charming account of the place and you all seemed to enjoy it beyond anything.
Eleanor did feel a little ashamed of her brother and was not sorry to be spared the necessity of answering him by the arrival of Mrs Jennings' servant,
Who came to tell her his mistress waited for them at the door.
Mr Dashwood attended them downstairs and was introduced to Mrs Jennings at the door of her carriage.
His visit was duly paid.
He came with a pretense at an apology from their sister-in-law for not coming to court.
But she was so much engaged with her mother.
She really had no leisure for going anywhere.
Mrs Jennings,
However,
Assured him directly that she should not stand upon ceremony for they were all cousins and she should certainly wait on Mrs John Dashwood very soon and bring her sisters to see her.
His manners to them were perfectly kind.
To Mrs Jennings most attentively civil.
And on Colonel Brandon's coming in soon after himself.
He eyed him with a curiosity which seemed to say he only wanted to know him to be rich,
To be equally civil to him.
After staying with him half an hour,
He asked Eleanor to walk him to Condwick Street and introduce him to Sir John and Lady Middleton.
As soon as they were out of the house.
His inquiries began.
Who is Colonel Brandon?
Is he a man of fortune?
Yes,
He has a very good property in Dorsetshire.
I am glad of it.
He seems a most gentleman-like man,
And I think Eleanor May I congratulate you on the prospect of a very respectable establishment in life.
Me brother What do you mean?
He likes you.
I am convinced of it.
What is the amount of his fortune?
I believe about 2,
000 a year.
Two thousand a year Eleanor,
I wish with all my heart it were twice as much for your sake.
Indeed I believe you.
Replied Eleanor.
But I am very sure Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish of marrying me.
You are mistaken,
Eleanor.
Perhaps just at present the smallest of your fortune may make him hang back.
But there can be no reason why you should not try for him.
It is not to be supposed any prior attachment on your side.
In short,
You know as to an attachment of that kind is quite out of the question.
The objections are insurmountable.
You have too much sense not to see all.
Colonel Brandon must be the man.
It is a match that must give universal satisfaction.
In short,
It's a kind of thing that will be exceedingly welcome to all parties.
Eleanor would not vouchsafe any answer.
It would be something remarkable now,
He continued,
Something drom,
If Fanny should have a brother,
And I a sister,
Settling at the same time.
Is Mr.
Edward Ferrars?
" said Eleanor with resolution.
Going to be married?
It is not actually settled,
But there is such a thing in agitation.
He has a most excellent mother.
Mrs Ferrars,
With the utmost liberality,
Will come forward and settle on him a thousand a year if the match takes place.
The lady is the Honourable Miss Morton with £30,
000.
A thousand a year is a great deal for a mother to give away.
To make over forever.
But Mrs Ferris has a noble spirit.
To give you another instance of her liberality,
The other day,
As soon as we came to town,
She put banknotes into Fanny's hands to the amount of £200.
And extremely acceptable it is,
For we must live at great expense when we're here.
He paused for her assent and compassion,
And she forced herself to say.
Your expenses both in town and country must certainly be considerable.
But your income is a large one.
Not so large,
I dare say,
As many people suppose.
You said.
I have made a little purchase within this half year,
East Kingham Farm where old Gibson used to live.
The land was so very desirable for me in every respect.
So immediately adjoining my own property,
I felt it my duty to buy it.
A man must pay for his convenience,
And it has cost me a vast deal of money.
More than you think it really and intrinsically worth.
My,
I hope not.
I might have sold it again the next day for more than I gave,
But with regard to the purchase money,
I might have been unfortunate indeed,
For the stocks were at that time so low.
If I had not happened to have the necessary sum in my banker's hands,
I must have sold it to a very great loss.
Eleanor could only smile.
Are the great and inevitable expenses we have too had on first coming to Norland.
Our respected father,
As you well know,
Bequeathed all the Stanhill effects that remained in Norland to your mother.
In consequence of it,
We've been obliged to make large purchases of linen,
China,
Etc.
To supply the place of what was taken away.
You may guess,
After all these expenses,
How very far we must be from being rich.
And how acceptable Mrs Ferrer's kindness is.
Certainly.
Said Eleanor,
And assisted by her liberality,
I hope you may yet live to be in easy circumstances.
Another year or two may do towards it.
He gravely replied.
But however there's a great deal to be done.
Having now said enough to make his poverty clear,
His thoughts took a cheerful return and he began to congratulate Eleanor on having such a friend as Mrs Jennings.
She seems a most valuable woman indeed.
Oh,
Inviting you to town is certainly a vast thing in your favour.
And it speaks altogether so great a regard for you.
That in all probability when she dies she will not be forgotten.
She must have a great deal to leave.
Nothing at all,
I suppose,
For she has only her jointure which will descend to her children.
Said Helena.
But it is not to be imagined she lives up to her income and whatever she saves she'll be able to dispose of.
And do you not think it more likely she should leave it to her daughters than to us?
Her daughters are both exceedingly well married and therefore I cannot perceive the necessity of remembering them first.
By her taking so much notice of you,
She's given you a sort of claim on her future consideration.
And she can hardly do all this without being aware of the expectations she raises.
But she raises none in those most concerned.
Indeed,
Brother,
Your anxiety for our welfare and prosperity carries you too far.
Why to be sure?
Said he,
Seeming to recollect himself.
People have little,
Very little in their power,
But my dear Eleanor.
.
.
What is the matter with Marianne?
She looks quite unwell.
She's lost her colour and has grown quite thin.
She is not well.
Said Eleanor.
She has had a nervous complaint on her for several weeks.
I am sorry for that.
At her time of life,
Anything of an illness destroys the bloom forever.
She was as handsome a girl last September as ever I saw.
And is likely to attract the men.
I remember Fanny used to say she would marry sooner and better than you did.
I question whether Marianne now will marry a man worth more than five or six hundred a year at the utmost.
And I'm very deceived if you do not do better.
Eleanor tried very seriously to convince him there was no likelihood of her marrying Colonel Brandon,
But it was an expectation of too much pleasure to himself to be relinquished.
He had just compunction enough for having done nothing for his sisters himself to be exceedingly anxious that everybody else should do a great deal.
And an offer from Colonel Brandon or a legacy from Mrs Jennings was the easiest means of atoning for his own neglect.
They were lucky enough to find Lady Middleton at home.
And Sir John came in before their visit ended.
Sir John was ready to like anybody,
And though Mr Dashwood did not seem to know very much about horses,
He soon set him down as a very good-natured fellow.
While Lady Middleton saw enough of fashion in his appearance to think his acquaintance worth having.
And Mr Dashwood went away.
Delighted with both.
Chapter 34 Mrs.
John Dashwood had so much confidence in her husband's judgment that she waited the very next day,
Both on Mrs.
Jennings and her daughter.
And her confidence was rewarded by finding even the former by no means unworthy her notice.
And as for Lady Middleton,
She found her one of the most charming women in the world.
Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs Dashwood.
There was a kind of cold-hearted selfishness on both sides which mutually attracted them.
The same manners however which recommended Mrs John Dashwood to the good opinion of Lady Middleton did not suit the fancy of Mrs Jennings.
And to her she appeared nothing more than a little,
Proud-looking woman of uncordial address,
Who met her husband's sisters without any affection and almost without having anything to say to them.
Eleanor wanted very much to know,
Though she did not choose to ask,
Whether Edward was then in town.
But nothing would have induced Fanny voluntarily to mention his name before her.
Till able to tell her that his marriage with Miss Morton was resolved on,
Or till her husband's expectations on Colonel Brandon were answered.
The intelligence,
However,
Soon flowed from another quarter.
Lucy came very shortly to claim Eleanor's compassion on being unable to see Edward.
Though he had arrived in town with Mr and Mrs Dashwood.
He dared not come to the Bartlett buildings for fear of detection,
And they could do nothing at present but write.
Edward assured them himself of his being in town within a very short time.
By twice calling in Barkley Street.
Eleanor was pleased he had called,
And still more pleased that she still missed him.
The Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted with the Middletons that they determined to give them a dinner,
And soon after their acquaintance began,
Invited them to dine in Harley Street,
Where they'd taken a very good house for three months.
Their sisters and Mrs Jennings were invited likewise,
And John Dashwood was careful to secure Colonel Bratt.
They were to meet Mrs Ferrars.
But Eleanor could not learn whether her sons were to be at the party.
The expectation of seeing her,
However,
Was enough to make her interested in the engagement.
The interest with which he thus anticipated the party was soon afterwards increased more powerfully than pleasantly.
By her hearing,
The missteals were also to be there.
So well had they recommended themselves to Lady Middleton,
She was as ready as Sir John to ask them to spend a week or two in Conduit Street.
Their claims to the notice of Mrs.
John Dashwood as the nieces of the gentleman,
Who for many years had the care of her brother,
Might not have done much,
However,
Towards procuring them seats at her table.
But as Lady Middleton's guests,
They must be welcome,
And Lucy had seldom been happier in her life than she was on receiving Mrs.
John Dashwood's card.
On Eleanor,
Its effect was very different.
She began immediately to determine that Edward,
Who lived with his mother,
Must be asked,
As was his mother,
To a party given by his sister.
But to see him for the first time after all that had passed in the company of Lucy.
.
.
She hardly knew how she could bear it.
These apprehensions were relieved,
However,
By the goodwill of Lucy,
Who believed herself to be inflicting a severe disappointment when she told her Edward would certainly not be in Harley Street on Tuesday.
The important Tuesday came that was to introduce the two young ladies to this formidable mother-in-law.
Pity me,
Dear Miss Dashwood.
Said Lucy as they walked up the stairs together.
I declare I can hardly stand.
Good gracious,
In a moment I shall see the person all my happiness depends on,
That is to be my mother.
Mrs Ferris was a little thin woman.
Her complexion was sallow and her features small,
Without beauty and naturally without expression.
But lucky contraction of the brow had rescued her countenance from the disgrace of insipidity by giving it the strong characters of pride and ill nature.
She was not a woman of many words.
Of the few syllables that did escape her,
Not one fell to the share of Miss Dashwood,
Whom she eyed with the spirited determination of disliking her at all events.
Eleanor could not now be made unhappy by this behaviour.
And the difference of her manners to them is steals.
A difference which seemed purposely to humble her more,
Only amused her.
She could not but smile to see the graciousness of both mother and daughter towards the very person whom of all others had they known as much as she did.
They would have been most anxious to mortify.
While she herself,
Who had comparatively no power to wound them,
Sat pointedly slighted by both.
Lucy was all exultation on being so honorably distinguished,
And Miss Steele wanted only to be teased about Mr Davis to be perfectly happy.
The dinner was a grand one,
The servants were numerous,
And everything bespoke the mistress's inclination for show and the master's ability to support it.
In spite of the improvements and additions which they were making to the Norland estate.
And in spite of its owner having once been within some thousand pounds of being obliged to sell out at a loss,
No poverty of any kind except of conversation appeared.
But there the deficiency was considerable.
John Dashwood had not much to say for himself that was worth hearing.
And his wife had still less.
But there was no peculiar disgrace in this,
For it was very much the case with the chief of their visitors,
Who almost all laboured under one or other of these disqualifications for being agreeable.
Want of sense,
Either natural or improved.
Want of elegance.
Want of spirit?
Or want of temper.
When the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room after dinner,
This poverty was particularly evident,
For the gentlemen had supplied the discourse with some variety.
But then it was all over,
And one subject only engaged the ladies till coffee came in,
Which was the comparative heights of Harry Dashwood and Lady Middleton's second son,
William.
The party stood thus.
The two mothers,
Though each really convinced her own son was the tallest,
Politely decided in favour of the other.
The two grandmothers,
With not less partiality but more sincerity,
Were equally earnest in support of their own descendants.
Lucy thought the boys were both remarkably tall for their age and could not conceive there could be the smallest difference in the world between them.
Eleanor having once delivered her opinion on William's side.
Did not see the necessity of enforcing it by any further assertion.
And Marianne,
When called for hers,
Offended them all by declaring she had never thought about it.
Before her removing from Norland,
Eleanor had painted a very pretty pair of screens for her sister-in-law.
Which being now just mounted and brought home,
Ornamented her present drawing room.
And these screens,
Catching the eye of John Dashwood on his following the other gentlemen into the room.
Were officiously handed by him to Colonel Brandon for his admiration.
These are done by my eldest sister.
Said he.
I do not know whether you've happened to see any of her performances before,
But she's in general reckoned to draw extremely well.
The Colonel warmly admired the screens,
As he would have done anything painted by Miss Dashwood.
And they were handed round for general inspection.
Mrs Ferrer's not aware of there being Eleanor's work.
Can only be requested to look at them.
And after they had received the gratifying testimony of Lady Middleton.
Fanny presented them to her mother.
Considerably informing her at the same time they were done by Miss Dashwood.
Said Mrs Ferrars.
Very pretty.
And without regarding them at all return them to her daughter.
Perhaps Fanny thought for a moment that her mother had been quite rude enough.
For colouring a little,
She immediately said.
They are very pretty,
Mama,
Aren't they?
But then again,
The dread of having been too civil probably came over her.
" Pushy added.
Do you not think there's something in Miss Morton's style of painting,
Mum?
She does paint most delightfully.
Beautifully indeed,
But she does everything well.
Marianne could not bear this.
Such ill-timed praise of another at Eleanor's expense provoked her immediately to say with warmth,
This is an admiration of a very particular kind.
What is Miss Morton to us?
Who knows,
Or who cares for her?
It is Eleanor of whom we think and speak.
Mrs Ferris looked exceedingly angry and drawing herself up more stiffly than ever pronounced and retorted,
Miss Morton is Lord Morton's daughter.
Fanny looked very angry too,
And her husband was all in a fright at his sister's audacity.
Eleanor was much more hurt by Marianne's warmth than she'd been by what produced it.
But Colonel Brandon's eyes,
As they were fixed on Marianne,
Declared he noticed only what was amiable,
The affectionate heart which could not bear to see a sister slighted in the smallest point.
Marianne's feelings did not stop here.
The cold insolence of Mrs Ferrer's general behaviour to her sister seemed to her to foretell such difficulties and distresses to Eleanor as her own wounded heart taught her to think of with horror.
And she moved after a moment to her sister's chair.
And putting one arm round her neck and one cheek close to hers,
She said,
In a low but eager voice,
Dear,
Dear Eleanor.
Don't mind them.
Don't let them make you unhappy.
She could say no more,
Hiding her face on Eleanor's shoulder.
She burst into tears.
Colonel Brandon rose up and went to them without knowing what he did.
Mrs Jennings with a very intelligent,
Ah,
Poor dear,
Immediately gave her salt.
And Sir John felt so desperately enraged against the author of this nervous distress that he instantly changed his seat to one close by Lucy Steele and gave her,
In a whisper,
A brief account of the whole shocking affair.
In a few minutes,
However,
Marianne was recovered enough to sit down amongst the rest,
Though her spirits retained the impression of what had passed the whole evening.
Paul Marianne.
Said her brother to Colonel Brandon in a low voice.
She has not such good health as her sister.
She has not Eleanor's constitution.
And one must allow there's something very trying to a young woman who has been a beauty.
In the loss of her personal attractions.
You would not think it,
Perhaps,
But Marianne was remarkably handsome a few months ago.
Quite as handsome as Eleanor.
Now you see.
It is all gone.
