Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen

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Elinor had just been congratulating herself,
in the midst of her perplexity, that however difficult it
might be to express herself properly by letter, it was
at least preferable to giving the information by word
of mouth, when her visitor entered, to force her upon this
greatest exertion of all. Her astonishment and confusion
were very great on his so sudden appearance. She had
not seen him before since his engagement became public,
and therefore not since his knowing her to be acquainted
with it; which, with the consciousness of what she
had been thinking of, and what she had to tell him,
made her feel particularly uncomfortable for some minutes.
He too was much distressed; and they sat down together
in a most promising state of embarrassment.--Whether he
had asked her pardon for his intrusion on first coming
into the room, he could not recollect; but determining
to be on the safe side, he made his apology in form
as soon as he could say any thing, after taking a chair.

"Mrs. Jennings told me," said he, "that you wished
to speak with me, at least I understood her so--or I
certainly should not have intruded on you in such a manner;
though at the same time, I should have been extremely
sorry to leave London without seeing you and your sister;
especially as it will most likely be some time--it
is not probable that I should soon have the pleasure
of meeting you again. I go to Oxford tomorrow."

"You would not have gone, however," said Elinor,
recovering herself, and determined to get over what she
so much dreaded as soon as possible, "without receiving
our good wishes, even if we had not been able to give them
in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she said.
I have something of consequence to inform you of,
which I was on the point of communicating by paper.
I am charged with a most agreeable office (breathing
rather faster than usual as she spoke.) Colonel Brandon,
who was here only ten minutes ago, has desired me to say,
that understanding you mean to take orders, he has
great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford
now just vacant, and only wishes it were more valuable.
Allow me to congratulate you on having so respectable
and well-judging a friend, and to join in his wish that
the living--it is about two hundred a-year--were much
more considerable, and such as might better enable you
to--as might be more than a temporary accommodation to
yourself--such, in short, as might establish all your views
of happiness."

What Edward felt, as he could not say it himself,
it cannot be expected that any one else should say for him.
He LOOKED all the astonishment which such unexpected,
such unthought-of information could not fail of exciting;
but he said only these two words,

"Colonel Brandon!"

"Yes," continued Elinor, gathering more resolution,
as some of the worst was over, "Colonel Brandon means
it as a testimony of his concern for what has lately
passed--for the cruel situation in which the unjustifiable
conduct of your family has placed you--a concern
which I am sure Marianne, myself, and all your friends,
must share; and likewise as a proof of his high esteem
for your general character, and his particular approbation
of your behaviour on the present occasion."

"Colonel Brandon give ME a living!--Can it be possible?"

"The unkindness of your own relations has made you
astonished to find friendship any where."

"No," replied be, with sudden consciousness, "not to
find it in YOU; for I cannot be ignorant that to you,
to your goodness, I owe it all.--I feel it--I would express
it if I could--but, as you well know, I am no orator."

"You are very much mistaken. I do assure you
that you owe it entirely, at least almost entirely,
to your own merit, and Colonel Brandon's discernment
of it. I have had no hand in it. I did not even know,
till I understood his design, that the living was vacant;
nor had it ever occurred to me that he might have
had such a living in his gift. As a friend of mine,
of my family, he may, perhaps--indeed I know he HAS,
still greater pleasure in bestowing it; but, upon my word,
you owe nothing to my solicitation."

Truth obliged her to acknowledge some small share
in the action, but she was at the same time so unwilling
to appear as the benefactress of Edward, that she acknowledged
it with hesitation; which probably contributed to fix
that suspicion in his mind which had recently entered it.
For a short time he sat deep in thought, after Elinor had ceased
to speak;--at last, and as if it were rather an effort, he said,

"Colonel Brandon seems a man of great worth
and respectability. I have always heard him spoken
of as such, and your brother I know esteems him highly.
He is undoubtedly a sensible man, and in his manners
perfectly the gentleman."

"Indeed," replied Elinor, "I believe that you will find him,
on farther acquaintance, all that you have heard him to be,
and as you will be such very near neighbours (for I understand
the parsonage is almost close to the mansion-house,)
it is particularly important that he SHOULD be all this."

Edward made no answer; but when she had turned
away her head, gave her a look so serious, so earnest,
so uncheerful, as seemed to say, that he might hereafter wish
the distance between the parsonage and the mansion-house
much greater.

"Colonel Brandon, I think, lodges in St. James Street,"
said he, soon afterwards, rising from his chair.

Elinor told him the number of the house.

"I must hurry away then, to give him those thanks
which you will not allow me to give YOU; to assure him
that he has made me a very--an exceedingly happy man."

Elinor did not offer to detain him; and they parted,
with a very earnest assurance on HER side of her unceasing
good wishes for his happiness in every change of situation
that might befall him; on HIS, with rather an attempt to
return the same good will, than the power of expressing it.

"When I see him again," said Elinor to herself,
as the door shut him out, "I shall see him the husband
of Lucy."

And with this pleasing anticipation, she sat down
to reconsider the past, recall the words and endeavour
to comprehend all the feelings of Edward; and, of course,
to reflect on her own with discontent.

When Mrs. Jennings came home, though she returned
from seeing people whom she had never seen before,
and of whom therefore she must have a great deal to say,
her mind was so much more occupied by the important secret
in her possession, than by anything else, that she
reverted to it again as soon as Elinor appeared.

"Well, my dear," she cried, "I sent you up to the
young man. Did not I do right?--And I suppose you had
no great difficulty--You did not find him very unwilling
to accept your proposal?"

"No, ma'am; THAT was not very likely."

"Well, and how soon will he be ready?--For it seems
all to depend upon that."

"Really," said Elinor, "I know so little of these kind
of forms, that I can hardly even conjecture as to the time,
or the preparation necessary; but I suppose two or three
months will complete his ordination."

"Two or three months!" cried Mrs. Jennings; "Lord! my dear,
how calmly you talk of it; and can the Colonel wait two
or three months! Lord bless me!--I am sure it would put ME
quite out of patience!--And though one would be very glad
to do a kindness by poor Mr. Ferrars, I do think it is
not worth while to wait two or three months for him.
Sure somebody else might be found that would do as well;
somebody that is in orders already."

"My dear ma'am," said Elinor, "what can you be thinking of?--
Why, Colonel Brandon's only object is to be of use to Mr. Ferrars."

"Lord bless you, my dear!--Sure you do not mean to persuade
me that the Colonel only marries you for the sake of giving
ten guineas to Mr. Ferrars!"

The deception could not continue after this;
and an explanation immediately took place, by which both
gained considerable amusement for the moment, without any
material loss of happiness to either, for Mrs. Jennings
only exchanged one form of delight for another, and still
without forfeiting her expectation of the first.

"Aye, aye, the parsonage is but a small one," said she,
after the first ebullition of surprise and satisfaction
was over, "and very likely MAY be out of repair; but to hear
a man apologising, as I thought, for a house that to my
knowledge has five sitting rooms on the ground-floor, and I
think the housekeeper told me could make up fifteen beds!--
and to you too, that had been used to live in Barton
cottage!--It seems quite ridiculous. But, my dear, we must
touch up the Colonel to do some thing to the parsonage,
and make it comfortable for them, before Lucy goes to it."

"But Colonel Brandon does not seem to have any idea
of the living's being enough to allow them to marry."

"The Colonel is a ninny, my dear; because he has two
thousand a-year himself, he thinks that nobody else can marry
on less. Take my word for it, that, if I am alive, I shall
be paying a visit at Delaford Parsonage before Michaelmas;
and I am sure I sha'nt go if Lucy an't there."

Elinor was quite of her opinion, as to the probability
of their not waiting for any thing more.

CHAPTER 41

Edward, having carried his thanks to Colonel Brandon,
proceeded with his happiness to Lucy; and such was the
excess of it by the time he reached Bartlett's Buildings,
that she was able to assure Mrs. Jennings, who called
on her again the next day with her congratulations,
that she had never seen him in such spirits before in
her life.

Her own happiness, and her own spirits, were at
least very certain; and she joined Mrs. Jennings most
heartily in her expectation of their being all comfortably
together in Delaford Parsonage before Michaelmas.
So far was she, at the same time, from any backwardness
to give Elinor that credit which Edward WOULD give her,
that she spoke of her friendship for them both with the most
grateful warmth, was ready to own all their obligation
to her, and openly declared that no exertion for their
good on Miss Dashwood's part, either present or future,
would ever surprise her, for she believed her capable of
doing any thing in the world for those she really valued.
As for Colonel Brandon, she was not only ready to worship
him as a saint, but was moreover truly anxious that
he should be treated as one in all worldly concerns;
anxious that his tithes should be raised to the utmost;
and scarcely resolved to avail herself, at Delaford,
as far as she possibly could, of his servants, his carriage,
his cows, and his poultry.

It was now above a week since John Dashwood had
called in Berkeley Street, and as since that time no notice
had been taken by them of his wife's indisposition,
beyond one verbal enquiry, Elinor began to feel it
necessary to pay her a visit.--This was an obligation,
however, which not only opposed her own inclination,
but which had not the assistance of any encouragement
from her companions. Marianne, not contented with
absolutely refusing to go herself, was very urgent
to prevent her sister's going at all; and Mrs. Jennings,
though her carriage was always at Elinor's service,
so very much disliked Mrs. John Dashwood, that not even her
curiosity to see how she looked after the late discovery,
nor her strong desire to affront her by taking Edward's part,
could overcome her unwillingness to be in her company again.
The consequence was, that Elinor set out by herself
to pay a visit, for which no one could really have
less inclination, and to run the risk of a tete-a-tete
with a woman, whom neither of the others had so much
reason to dislike.

Mrs. Dashwood was denied; but before the carriage could
turn from the house, her husband accidentally came out.
He expressed great pleasure in meeting Elinor, told her
that he had been just going to call in Berkeley Street, and,
assuring her that Fanny would be very glad to see her,
invited her to come in.

They walked up stairs in to the drawing-room.--Nobody
was there.

"Fanny is in her own room, I suppose," said he:--"I
will go to her presently, for I am sure she will not
have the least objection in the world to seeing YOU.--
Very far from it, indeed. NOW especially there
cannot be--but however, you and Marianne were always
great favourites.--Why would not Marianne come?"--

Elinor made what excuse she could for her.

"I am not sorry to see you alone," he replied,
"for I have a good deal to say to you. This living
of Colonel Brandon's--can it be true?--has he really given
it to Edward?--I heard it yesterday by chance, and was
coming to you on purpose to enquire farther about it."

"It is perfectly true.--Colonel Brandon has given
the living of Delaford to Edward."

"Really!--Well, this is very astonishing!--no
relationship!--no connection between them!--and now
that livings fetch such a price!--what was the value of this?"

"About two hundred a year."

"Very well--and for the next presentation to a living
of that value--supposing the late incumbent to have
been old and sickly, and likely to vacate it soon--he
might have got I dare say--fourteen hundred pounds.
And how came he not to have settled that matter before this
person's death?--NOW indeed it would be too late to sell it,
but a man of Colonel Brandon's sense!--I wonder he should
be so improvident in a point of such common, such natural,
concern!--Well, I am convinced that there is a vast deal
of inconsistency in almost every human character. I suppose,
however--on recollection--that the case may probably be THIS.
Edward is only to hold the living till the person to whom
the Colonel has really sold the presentation, is old enough
to take it.--Aye, aye, that is the fact, depend upon it."

Elinor contradicted it, however, very positively;
and by relating that she had herself been employed
in conveying the offer from Colonel Brandon to Edward,
and, therefore, must understand the terms on which it
was given, obliged him to submit to her authority.

"It is truly astonishing!"--he cried, after hearing
what she said--"what could be the Colonel's motive?"

"A very simple one--to be of use to Mr. Ferrars."

"Well, well; whatever Colonel Brandon may be,
Edward is a very lucky man.--You will not mention the matter
to Fanny, however, for though I have broke it to her,
and she bears it vastly well,--she will not like to hear
it much talked of."

Elinor had some difficulty here to refrain from observing,
that she thought Fanny might have borne with composure,
an acquisition of wealth to her brother, by which neither
she nor her child could be possibly impoverished.

"Mrs. Ferrars," added he, lowering his voice to the
tone becoming so important a subject, "knows nothing
about it at present, and I believe it will be best to
keep it entirely concealed from her as long as may be.--
When the marriage takes place, I fear she must hear
of it all."

"But why should such precaution be used?--Though
it is not to be supposed that Mrs. Ferrars can have
the smallest satisfaction in knowing that her son has
money enough to live upon,--for THAT must be quite
out of the question; yet why, upon her late behaviour,
is she supposed to feel at all?--She has done with her
son, she cast him off for ever, and has made all those
over whom she had any influence, cast him off likewise.
Surely, after doing so, she cannot be imagined liable
to any impression of sorrow or of joy on his account--
she cannot be interested in any thing that befalls him.--
She would not be so weak as to throw away the comfort
of a child, and yet retain the anxiety of a parent!"

"Ah! Elinor," said John, "your reasoning is very good,
but it is founded on ignorance of human nature.
When Edward's unhappy match takes place, depend upon it
his mother will feel as much as if she had never discarded him;
and, therefore every circumstance that may accelerate that
dreadful event, must be concealed from her as much as possible.
Mrs. Ferrars can never forget that Edward is her son."

"You surprise me; I should think it must nearly
have escaped her memory by THIS time."

"You wrong her exceedingly. Mrs. Ferrars is one
of the most affectionate mothers in the world."

Elinor was silent.

"We think NOW,"--said Mr. Dashwood, after a short pause,
"of ROBERT'S marrying Miss Morton."

Elinor, smiling at the grave and decisive importance
of her brother's tone, calmly replied,

"The lady, I suppose, has no choice in the affair."

"Choice!--how do you mean?"

"I only mean that I suppose, from your manner
of speaking, it must be the same to Miss Morton whether
she marry Edward or Robert."

"Certainly, there can be no difference; for Robert
will now to all intents and purposes be considered
as the eldest son;--and as to any thing else, they are
both very agreeable young men: I do not know that one
is superior to the other."

Elinor said no more, and John was also for a short
time silent.--His reflections ended thus.

"Of ONE thing, my dear sister," kindly taking her hand,
and speaking in an awful whisper,--"I may assure you;--
and I WILL do it, because I know it must gratify you.
I have good reason to think--indeed I have it from the
best authority, or I should not repeat it, for otherwise
it would be very wrong to say any thing about it--but
I have it from the very best authority--not that I ever
precisely heard Mrs. Ferrars say it herself--but her
daughter DID, and I have it from her--That in short,
whatever objections there might be against a certain--a
certain connection--you understand me--it would have been
far preferable to her, it would not have given her half
the vexation that THIS does. I was exceedingly pleased
to hear that Mrs. Ferrars considered it in that light--
a very gratifying circumstance you know to us all.
'It would have been beyond comparison,' she said, 'the least
evil of the two, and she would be glad to compound NOW
for nothing worse.' But however, all that is quite out
of the question--not to be thought of or mentioned--
as to any attachment you know--it never could be--all
that is gone by. But I thought I would just tell you
of this, because I knew how much it must please you.
Not that you have any reason to regret, my dear Elinor. There
is no doubt of your doing exceedingly well--quite as well,
or better, perhaps, all things considered. Has Colonel
Brandon been with you lately?"

Elinor had heard enough, if not to gratify her vanity,
and raise her self-importance, to agitate her nerves
and fill her mind;--and she was therefore glad to be
spared from the necessity of saying much in reply herself,
and from the danger of hearing any thing more from
her brother, by the entrance of Mr. Robert Ferrars.
After a few moments' chat, John Dashwood, recollecting that
Fanny was yet uninformed of her sister's being there,
quitted the room in quest of her; and Elinor was left
to improve her acquaintance with Robert, who, by the
gay unconcern, the happy self-complacency of his manner
while enjoying so unfair a division of his mother's love
and liberality, to the prejudice of his banished brother,
earned only by his own dissipated course of life, and that
brother's integrity, was confirming her most unfavourable
opinion of his head and heart.

They had scarcely been two minutes by themselves,
before he began to speak of Edward; for he, too, had heard
of the living, and was very inquisitive on the subject.
Elinor repeated the particulars of it, as she had given them
to John; and their effect on Robert, though very different,
was not less striking than it had been on HIM. He laughed
most immoderately. The idea of Edward's being a clergyman,
and living in a small parsonage-house, diverted him
beyond measure;--and when to that was added the fanciful
imagery of Edward reading prayers in a white surplice,
and publishing the banns of marriage between John Smith and
Mary Brown, he could conceive nothing more ridiculous.

Elinor, while she waited in silence and immovable
gravity, the conclusion of such folly, could not restrain
her eyes from being fixed on him with a look that spoke
all the contempt it excited. It was a look, however,
very well bestowed, for it relieved her own feelings, and gave
no intelligence to him. He was recalled from wit to wisdom,
not by any reproof of her's, but by his own sensibility.

"We may treat it as a joke," said he, at last,
recovering from the affected laugh which had considerably
lengthened out the genuine gaiety of the moment--"but, upon
my soul, it is a most serious business. Poor Edward!
he is ruined for ever. I am extremely sorry for it--
for I know him to be a very good-hearted creature; as
well-meaning a fellow perhaps, as any in the world.
You must not judge of him, Miss Dashwood, from YOUR
slight acquaintance.--Poor Edward!--His manners are certainly
not the happiest in nature.--But we are not all born,
you know, with the same powers,--the same address.--
Poor fellow!--to see him in a circle of strangers!--
to be sure it was pitiable enough!--but upon my soul,
I believe he has as good a heart as any in the kingdom;
and I declare and protest to you I never was so shocked in my
life, as when it all burst forth. I could not believe it.--
My mother was the first person who told me of it;
and I, feeling myself called on to act with resolution,
immediately said to her, 'My dear madam, I do not know
what you may intend to do on the occasion, but as for myself,
I must say, that if Edward does marry this young woman,
I never will see him again.' That was what I said immediately.--
I was most uncommonly shocked, indeed!--Poor Edward!--he has
done for himself completely--shut himself out for ever from
all decent society!--but, as I directly said to my mother,
I am not in the least surprised at it; from his style
of education, it was always to be expected. My poor mother
was half frantic."

"Have you ever seen the lady?"

"Yes; once, while she was staying in this house,
I happened to drop in for ten minutes; and I saw
quite enough of her. The merest awkward country girl,
without style, or elegance, and almost without beauty.--
I remember her perfectly. Just the kind of girl I
should suppose likely to captivate poor Edward.
I offered immediately, as soon as my mother related
the affair to me, to talk to him myself, and dissuade
him from the match; but it was too late THEN, I found,
to do any thing, for unluckily, I was not in the way
at first, and knew nothing of it till after the breach
had taken place, when it was not for me, you know,
to interfere. But had I been informed of it a few
hours earlier--I think it is most probable--that something
might have been hit on. I certainly should have represented
it to Edward in a very strong light. 'My dear fellow,'
I should have said, 'consider what you are doing.
You are making a most disgraceful connection, and such a one
as your family are unanimous in disapproving.' I cannot
help thinking, in short, that means might have been found.
But now it is all too late. He must be starved, you know;--
that is certain; absolutely starved."

He had just settled this point with great composure,
when the entrance of Mrs. John Dashwood put an end to the subject.
But though SHE never spoke of it out of her own family,
Elinor could see its influence on her mind, in the something
like confusion of countenance with which she entered,
and an attempt at cordiality in her behaviour to herself.
She even proceeded so far as to be concerned to find
that Elinor and her sister were so soon to leave town,
as she had hoped to see more of them;--an exertion
in which her husband, who attended her into the room,
and hung enamoured over her accents, seemed to distinguish
every thing that was most affectionate and graceful.

CHAPTER 42

One other short call in Harley Street, in which Elinor
received her brother's congratulations on their travelling
so far towards Barton without any expense, and on Colonel
Brandon's being to follow them to Cleveland in a day or two,
completed the intercourse of the brother and sisters
in town;--and a faint invitation from Fanny, to come
to Norland whenever it should happen to be in their way,
which of all things was the most unlikely to occur,
with a more warm, though less public, assurance, from John
to Elinor, of the promptitude with which he should come
to see her at Delaford, was all that foretold any meeting
in the country.

It amused her to observe that all her friends seemed
determined to send her to Delaford;--a place, in which,
of all others, she would now least chuse to visit, or wish
to reside; for not only was it considered as her future
home by her brother and Mrs. Jennings, but even Lucy,
when they parted, gave her a pressing invitation to visit
her there.

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