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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77271 ***
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET DASHWOOD
+
+or
+
+INTERFERENCE
+
+by
+
+Mrs. FRANCIS BROWN
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+London
+John Lane The Bodley Head Limited
+
+
+
+
+_First published in 1929_
+
+
+
+_Made and Printed in Great Britain by
+Tonbridge Printers, Peach Hall Works, Tonbridge_
+
+  “Fortunately for Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken
+  from them, Margaret had reached an age highly suitable for dancing,
+  and not very ineligible for being supposed to have a lover.”
+
+                                           “_Sense and Sensibility._”
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+MY DAUGHTER HELEN
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET DASHWOOD
+
+_or_
+
+INTERFERENCE
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET DASHWOOD
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Margaret Dashwood was an observer of life. Her temper was calm, her
+manner gentle, and she was able to listen to the accounts other
+people gave of their activities without the appearance of fatigue.
+The circumstances of her life up to the age of seventeen had combined
+to increase in her these qualities, so valuable to her acquaintance,
+so agreeable to herself, and so baffling to those desiring a nearer
+intimacy. She was the youngest of three daughters, not so accomplished
+and self-reliant as Elinor, not so handsome and impulsive as Marianne,
+and less attractive than either, if to be immediately noticed is to be
+attractive.
+
+Their mother was a widow, whose income, though possibly equal to her
+expenditure, was consistently below her wishes, and the three Miss
+Dashwoods were obliged to suit their requirements to their mother’s
+purse rather than to her heart.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Dashwood had lived for ten years with his uncle, the
+owner of a large estate in Sussex to which Mr. Dashwood was the heir.
+The property was inherited, but enjoyed for only a twelvemonth, and
+Mrs. Dashwood became a widow with a small income.
+
+The idea of wealth takes root quickly in the mind, and Mrs. Dashwood
+was not easily convinced that she was now unable to afford indulgences
+for her daughters. Her own tastes were simple, or became so after her
+change of situation; and, in order that Elinor and Marianne might be
+suitably attired and escorted, her own pin-money was severely taxed.
+Margaret, as the youngest daughter and not yet grown up, had a more
+personal experience of the family economies than her sisters, and she
+learned more of the meaning of the word “poor” than either of them was
+ever to know.
+
+Six months after her husband’s death Mrs. Dashwood removed, with her
+daughters, from Norland Park, in the county of Sussex, to Barton
+Cottage, near Exeter. Margaret was only thirteen at the time of this
+removal and, though deeply mourning the loss of her father, with whom
+she had been a special favourite, her feelings on leaving her home
+were tinged quite as much with excitement as with regret. She had
+found, however, that, if she wished to be left in peace to her own
+reflections, it was wise to agree with outward fervour with Marianne,
+whose sensibilities were of such a nature as to brook no opposition,
+least of all from a younger sister.
+
+In Marianne’s company Margaret expressed undying sorrow at parting from
+the woods of Norland--but she ran away if her father’s name occurred.
+With her mother she said little of regrets, but something of the joy
+of living in a cottage, and possibly keeping pigs and poultry; and
+with Elinor her subjects of conversation were still more limited for,
+as a rule, to her eldest sister she said nothing at all. She was quite
+willing to admire Elinor for her wisdom and elegance, but was not very
+fond of her society, and did not covet her notice, which usually took
+the form of gentle reproof or a slightly satirical approval. Margaret
+did not feel that she merited either. Most of her time was spent with
+Marianne, who would read aloud to her and rhapsodize with great spirit,
+if no older listener was to be secured. With her mother she was always
+happy, for Mrs. Dashwood restrained her grief when with her child,
+though she was in the habit of indulging it more freely with her elder
+daughters.
+
+The new owner of Norland, John Dashwood, the son of Mr. Dashwood by a
+former wife, early took up his residence accompanied by his wife and
+little son, now the heir to the property. Margaret soon contrived
+to dismiss her brother and his wife from her thoughts as “very
+disagreeable.” When obliged to be in company with them she merely
+thought of something else, and in this way escaped much that tried her
+mother and sisters almost beyond bearing. Her little nephew, Harry,
+she loved dearly, and amused him untiringly, and in this way gained
+approval and some degree of liking from Mrs. John Dashwood. Margaret
+was as unaware of this honour as she would have been indifferent had
+she known of it.
+
+In one respect Elinor became the subject of special interest and
+reflection to Margaret during the months that followed their father’s
+death and before their removal was decided. Mrs. John Dashwood’s
+brother, Edward Ferrars, had come to pay a short visit to his sister,
+and remained to pay a long one. Wherever Margaret went in the garden
+or shrubbery she found Edward and Elinor there before her, pacing the
+walks in earnest talk or sitting on a garden-seat while Elinor drew and
+Edward read aloud to her. It was Margaret’s first experience of the
+kind, and she found it exceedingly interesting, so much so that on more
+than one occasion she felt inclined to call her mother’s attention to
+it, but the habit of silence prevailed and, later, her thoughts were
+distracted by her mother’s announcement of the pending removal.
+
+The day came for their departure, and Marianne’s tears flowed freely
+in the carriage as they drove away from Norland. Mrs. Dashwood did
+not restrain her grief, and even the self-contained Elinor was moved.
+Margaret, however, held her perfectly dry handkerchief up to her face
+and peeped over it at the countryside and villages. By and by she
+was able to put away the appearance of sorrow, and on the second day
+could enjoy the journey without pretence. Elinor was determinedly
+full of interest and admiration, Mrs. Dashwood responded quickly
+to this happier mood, and even Marianne brightened as the beauties
+of Devonshire came in sight. Barton Cottage itself was pronounced
+bearable, and its situation was found to be perfection.
+
+Here Margaret was to live and grow up from thirteen to seventeen--when
+our story opens--and much was she to observe in those four years.
+
+She was to see how lovers advance and retire, set to corners, and set
+to partners not only in the ballroom. She was to find from Sir John
+Middleton and his wife, their near neighbours, that kindness could
+be inconvenient and that children could be troublesome; from Colonel
+Brandon that a brother-in-law could be old enough to be her father;
+from Edward Ferrars that a brother-in-law could be sober enough to
+be her grandfather; from Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton’s mother, that
+sweethearts were a good joke; from Miss Steele that beaux were vastly
+entertaining; and from her own sisters that lovers caused more grief
+and pain than she would have supposed possible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+On an April day in 1813 Margaret Dashwood and her mother were driven up
+to the door of Barton Cottage. They left many interests behind them at
+Delaford. Elinor Ferrars at the parsonage, and Marianne Brandon at the
+mansion-house, the husband of each, who seemed to Mrs. Dashwood as dear
+as her own sons would have been if she had had any, and two attractive
+grandchildren, one in each household, made up the number to six dear
+ones left behind. It would not have been unlike Mrs. Dashwood’s
+warm-hearted nature to have entered her own home in dejection of
+spirits; but this was not the case. She hurried in, full of interest
+and happiness, and Margaret followed with the book and purse left in
+the carriage.
+
+“Has Mr. Atherton arrived?” Mrs. Dashwood asked the waiting maid. “Not
+yet; that is well. Have you his room prepared? Miss Margaret and I have
+had some refreshment on the road. Tell Mrs. Thomas to keep back dinner
+till Mr. Atherton arrives. He will be here before three o’clock I am
+convinced.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood greeted the other servants, who were assembled to meet
+her, with the sweetness of address to which they were accustomed, and
+joyfully turned to the parlour, whither Margaret had preceded her.
+
+“What a lovely fire!” she said. “And a wonderful basket of flowers from
+Sir John. What a kind neighbour he is! To-morrow, my love, you and I
+must walk up to the Park.”
+
+“And the next day Sir John and Mrs. Jennings will come to us,” went on
+Margaret.
+
+“And the day after Lady Middleton and little William,” continued Mrs.
+Dashwood.
+
+“And after that we go there again,” finished Margaret.
+
+“You do not intend any objection, my Margaret, surely? They are kind
+neighbours, and must be treated with attention.”
+
+Margaret replied that she felt no objection that she could urge.
+
+“On the whole I prefer visiting them to receiving their calls. We have
+the pleasure of the walk, and can end the visit when we choose, and
+though doubtless we interrupt their occupations sadly, it is better
+than being interrupted ourselves.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood had done less than justice to Sir John Middleton’s
+neighbourliness of spirit. The flowers were no more than the herald of
+his goodwill. She was still re-arranging her dress in her bed-chamber
+when she saw from her window Sir John and Mrs. Jennings crossing the
+lawn, and heard them tapping on the window to announce their arrival to
+Margaret. Mrs. Dashwood entered the sitting-room in time to catch Sir
+John’s inquiry as to how many beaux Miss Margaret had left disconsolate
+behind her at Delaford, and to hear Mrs. Jennings’s hearty rejoinder on
+Margaret’s behalf, “Miss Margaret has only to waggle her little finger
+to have them all after her, but she will not take the trouble.”
+
+Margaret’s composure remained undisturbed, and she turned a smiling
+face to each in turn without exerting herself to make any other reply.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood’s entrance stopped the flow of gallantry by diverting the
+attention of the two visitors to herself.
+
+“And how is dear Mrs. Ferrars? And Mrs. Brandon too? As beautiful as
+ever, I will be bound, and the children will be old enough to fight
+each other now. My daughter Middleton is desirous of hearing all
+about them. She has an idea that Miss Marianne’s boy--I should say
+Mrs. Brandon’s--is taller than William was at his age and cannot rest
+till the matter is decided, and, for my part, I hope, ma’am, that my
+grandson has the advantage of yours, or we shall never hear the last
+of it from the child’s mother. Is it not so, Sir John? Lady Middleton
+is determined to have her boy the taller.”
+
+“For my part, I do not care which has it, ma’am,” replied Sir John,
+“but I hope William will be the better sportsman when they are both
+full grown, and that is all there is to say about it.”
+
+“You will find us all poor company after the party at Delaford, Miss
+Margaret,” went on Mrs. Jennings. “There is not a young man within ten
+miles, but we have one treat in store for you. Who do you think is
+coming to the Park this afternoon?”
+
+Margaret was unable to make any conjecture.
+
+“Well, then, what do you think of Miss Nancy Steele?”
+
+Margaret’s smile gave very little indication of her thoughts, which
+were briefly that the addition of Miss Steele to the party at Barton
+would neither lessen its dullness nor add to its happiness. One merit
+in the arrival she could perceive: Miss Steele’s beaux would prove
+a subject of conversation more accessible than her own, as Miss
+Steele would herself gladly supply all the material required for Mrs.
+Jennings’s and Sir John’s wit, and would join with enthusiasm in the
+laughter raised.
+
+Sir John’s next care was to secure the promise of a speedy visit
+from the ladies, and was for urging them to return with Mrs. Jennings
+and himself at once to dine at the Park, and thus secure the earliest
+possible meeting with Miss Steele. To this Mrs. Dashwood would not
+consent, and pleaded fatigue and the necessity of seeing her household,
+in vain. Sir John would not give way unless confronted with some better
+excuse than what he surmised was mere disinclination. He pressed his
+point so urgently that Mrs. Dashwood thought it best to admit that it
+was not in their power to accept his invitation. They were expecting
+the arrival of Mr. Atherton that afternoon.
+
+“Ha ha! Miss Margaret,” ejaculated Mrs. Jennings. “I was sure there was
+some beau in the question. Don’t tell me but that Mr. Atherton is young
+and handsome.”
+
+Sir John unwillingly admitted the prior claim of a visitor in the
+house, and bowed himself out, but with the assurance that he would wait
+on Mr. Atherton at the earliest possible opportunity on the morrow.
+
+Mr. Atherton was a stranger to both households, if the term may rightly
+be used when letters have been exchanged. Both Mrs. Dashwood and Sir
+John had reached this stage of intimacy with the expected guest, as
+Mr. Atherton was the new vicar of Barton and had been presented to the
+living by Sir John, but owed his introduction to the neighbourhood to
+a member of the Dashwood family.
+
+Mrs. John Dashwood of Norland Park and Lady Middleton were in the habit
+of meeting yearly in London. There was a certain lack of heart, and
+excess of formality on both sides, which endeared them to each other,
+and so far as either was capable of friendship they were friends.
+Therefore when the living of Barton fell vacant it was not long before
+Lady Middleton had confided to Fanny Dashwood her hopes and fears
+in the matter. Sir John’s judgment was not to be trusted, and the
+new incumbent might be far from presentable if the choice were left
+entirely to her husband’s discretion.
+
+“My dear Lady Middleton, there can be no occasion for you to see
+anything of the man,” Mrs. Dashwood declared. “My own brother, it is
+true, is in orders, but it is by no means the rule for the profession
+to be adopted by people of birth or consequence. Take my advice, and
+have very little to do with the parsonage. You would not like to
+see your darling William and Annamaria intimate with the parsonage
+children?”
+
+“It is different in your case, Mrs. Dashwood,” replied her ladyship.
+“Sir John is so fond of society and entertainment that I am convinced
+he will have the new vicar constantly to the Park. Poor old Mr. Tillis
+was bed-ridden, so could not visit, but I am sure things will be
+different now, and consequently it is of the greatest importance that
+he should be of good appearance and gentlemanly bearing.”
+
+Mrs. John Dashwood sympathized with her friend on her husband’s
+regrettable lavishness of hospitality, a fault of which her own spouse
+was altogether free, though she sometimes suspected him of over
+generosity in other directions. Nothing was too much for him to do, no
+trouble too much for him to undertake on behalf of his father’s widow
+and her daughters.
+
+“I am telling Lady Middleton, my love,” she went on as her husband
+entered the room, “how your father’s death left the care of his second
+family on your shoulders. Two of them have, as you know, ma’am, made
+most creditable marriages, entirely due to their brother’s untiring
+efforts on their behalf, and now there is poor little Margaret, by far
+the most affectionate of the three, but we can hear of nothing for her.”
+
+As Lady Middleton was tolerably well acquainted with the facts she
+might have been surprised by this account of the courtship and marriage
+of the two elder Miss Dashwoods, but the truth is that she heard none
+of it. Her attention had been caught by an annoying tear in her best
+India muslin; and, when she had disengaged her thoughts from this
+disaster, they had flown back to the possible inconvenience of an
+unsuitable appointment to the living of Barton.
+
+“Perhaps Mr. Dashwood could help us,” she said, and related to him
+her perplexities and fears. He was all attention and sympathy. Such a
+danger must at all costs be averted, and he begged for a few moments’
+quiet while he considered the matter from every point of view.
+
+This was readily agreed to, and ten minutes complete silence granted
+him. The time was pleasantly spent by the two ladies in discussing the
+merits of a fine darn as compared with a new breadth, Mrs. Dashwood
+arguing economy and Lady Middleton fearful that no darn could be finely
+enough executed to please her. Meanwhile Mr. Dashwood paced the room
+with his hands behind him in anxious thought. When he reseated himself
+in his chair, and brought the points of his fingers together, his
+attitude and expression were those of quiet satisfaction.
+
+“Your ladyship,” he began, “I think I may congratulate myself on
+having solved your problem and our own at one and the same time.
+Two birds with one stone in fact, though I flatter myself that this
+idea of mine is more--or rather I should say less--in fact there is
+no killing in the question; quite the contrary. I happen to number
+among my acquaintance a certain Mr. Atherton, a very fine young man
+indeed--quite a presentable figure. He has moderate means, but wishes
+to improve his position, and considers taking Orders. The offer of
+the living of Barton should settle the matter. I am inclined to think
+that your ladyship and Sir John would find him acceptable. Other
+developments, my dear Fanny, we may hope will follow.”
+
+Lady Middleton neither knew nor cared what the other developments might
+be. Her carriage was announced at that moment, and she departed to
+acquaint Sir John with Mr. Dashwood’s suggestion.
+
+Once more John Dashwood’s generous plans seemed successful. To confer
+benefits at the expense of his acquaintance was ever before him, as his
+duty to society. Sir John seemed only too glad to be spared trouble
+and responsibility. Mr. Atherton was in due course made known to Lady
+Middleton; and, though Sir John could not spare time while in town
+to meet the young man himself, he was satisfied if Lady Middleton
+was pleased. He wrote a friendly letter offering the living. Mr.
+Atherton wrote a politely grateful one accepting it, and plans for the
+improvement of the vicarage were immediately put in hand. Improvements
+are seldom rapidly accomplished, and these took so long that Mr.
+Atherton had taken Orders, and was prepared to enter on his new duties
+before the house was ready for him.
+
+Mr. John Dashwood, however, would not submit to a postponement of
+the happiness he proposed for his sister and her mother, and for Sir
+John and Lady Middleton, and for Mr. Atherton himself. He generously
+provided for the comfort of the latter by writing to implore his
+mother-in-law to despatch an invitation to the new vicar to enable him
+to begin his duties from Barton Cottage.
+
+With unfailing courtesy and hospitality she readily agreed. The
+invitation was sent, and accepted, and Mr. Atherton was momentarily
+expected.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Mrs. Dashwood’s attempt to exclude Mr. Atherton’s name from her
+conversation with Sir John was not caused by any wish on her part to
+keep the intended visit a secret. She was well aware that nothing
+of the sort was possible, but she would have been better pleased if
+Sir John and Mrs. Jennings had accepted her first excuses. Though
+accustomed to their raillery on the subject of courtship she never
+became reconciled to it, and had a habit of avoiding all mention of
+young men when in their society. She had therefore desired to postpone
+for herself and Margaret the witticisms which she knew to be inevitable
+as soon as Mr. Atherton’s arrival should be known.
+
+Marianne had once remarked that, though the rent of Barton Cottage was
+said to be low, they had it on very hard terms, as they were under the
+necessity of dining at the Park whenever anyone stayed with either
+family. Mrs. Dashwood had long ago decided that she did not choose to
+accept such frequent invitations; but in her own case she felt that
+she paid over and over again for the advantages of her pretty house
+in the annoyance she experienced in having her daughter’s affections
+and prospects made the subject of continual joking and surmise on the
+part of Sir John and Mrs. Jennings. The real regard which the family at
+Barton Cottage entertained for Mrs. Jennings’s kindness of heart did
+not lessen their disapproval for the freedom of her manners; and Sir
+John, in the course of the four or five years of their acquaintance,
+had developed no such admirable qualities as to make his tedious
+vulgarity endurable. Mrs. Dashwood was too truly amiable to speak
+either of or to her neighbours in any censorious fashion, but she often
+marvelled at the calmness with which Margaret received their sallies,
+and wondered if her youngest daughter could be lacking in some of the
+fine sensibility which so distinguished Marianne, and the delicacy of
+feeling which was Elinor’s greatest charm.
+
+Margaret had long ago made up her mind to present a calm front to Sir
+John’s attacks and his mother-in-law’s jocularity. She had a painful
+remembrance of the day when she had hinted before Sir John at the
+secret of Edward Ferrar’s attachment to Elinor. She had suffered in
+consequence. Elinor had felt the indignity of this public discussion
+of her private affairs, and Margaret had incurred her resentment. This
+had been no light matter in Barton Cottage. Miss Dashwood had a manner
+of expressing herself which, though perfectly gentle, was none the
+less reproving, and neither her mother nor her sisters could face the
+possibility of Elinor’s displeasure with equanimity. Margaret came to
+dread Sir John’s jokes, his drinking to her sister’s best affections,
+his allusions to the letter F, his sly inquiries, fully as much as
+Elinor could herself; and, while Miss Dashwood could feel that these
+annoyances were entirely undeserved, to Margaret’s distress was added
+a sense of guilt, which only increased as time went on and she became
+more fully aware of her mistake.
+
+When her sisters married, and she herself became the object of the
+raillery at Barton Park, she made up her mind that smiling calm would
+prove the best defence; that she would show nothing, and if possible
+feel nothing, of vexation, and that no one, not even her mother, should
+have reason to suppose her affected by any remark on the subject of
+love and marriage.
+
+Margaret and her mother occupied themselves in silence for some time
+after their visitors had taken their leave. Mrs. Dashwood had spent
+some months with her married daughters in the quiet elegance of their
+homes, where beaux and courtship were not the subject of attention. She
+felt her serenity threatened by the recent incursion, but Margaret,
+as she sat engaged with some needlework, looked so unconscious of any
+disturbance that Mrs. Dashwood’s spirits returned to their usual level.
+
+“I look forward eagerly to the arrival of our guest,” she said. “He
+will bring us some news of your brother and his wife.”
+
+“We may hear how little Henry says his piece, and what schemes for
+economy my brother has in his mind,” replied Margaret, “but I do not
+expect news.”
+
+Though Mrs. Dashwood’s contempt for John and Fanny could hardly be a
+secret to anyone but herself, she was always ready to champion the
+absent; and she now remarked with approval that Fanny was indeed a
+devoted mother, and that John’s caution in expenditure might be of
+great service to little Henry.
+
+Margaret’s reply was that she considered Mrs. John Dashwood an admiring
+rather than a devoted mother, and that she did not think her brother
+was really consistent in his economies, which were prompted more by
+meanness than by caution.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood admitted that she preferred wise expenditure, and the
+conversation was not continued.
+
+A slight shower was followed by sunshine so brilliant as to draw Mrs.
+Dashwood to the window in admiration. She was just in time to see a
+curricle draw up and a very fine-looking young man descend.
+
+“This must be our guest,” she cried, and noted with approval his air of
+fashion and the becoming cut of his many-caped driving coat.
+
+A moment later and he was bowing to the ladies in the parlour,
+and expressing his felicitation in being admitted to their quiet
+home circle. He had, he said, spent the night at Exeter, and been
+so overcome by the beauty of the Cathedral and the charm of the
+surroundings that he had been in no great hurry to continue his
+journey. However, here he was at last and, had he known that so much
+beauty and so much charm awaited him, he would have been up betimes in
+order to make his stay the longer.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood replied that they were themselves but just returned home,
+and rang the bell for Thomas to show her guest to his apartment.
+
+Mr. Atherton’s conversation could be checked, but could not be
+diverted. He had come prepared to admire Margaret, and admire her he
+would. He was in the habit of recounting his experiences, and recount
+them he would. The dinner-table served as an appropriate opportunity
+for both. Mrs. Dashwood and her daughter must perforce listen, and no
+interruption beyond the offering of a dish by Thomas, or some gentle
+direction to the servant on the part of Mrs. Dashwood, was possible. He
+was sure of his audience and of their attention, and took all else for
+granted.
+
+After a careful description of his journey he allowed himself to return
+to more personal topics.
+
+“I have had the pleasure of meeting your son and his charming wife,
+madam. They were so good as to ask me to dine with them and, after
+dinner, I had the felicity of beholding a portrait of yourself and your
+two lovely daughters, the work, so I understand, of your eldest and
+most highly gifted daughter. I was therefore in some degree prepared--I
+may say I expected almost a disappointment, but such is far from being
+the case.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood thought it best to misunderstand, and said with a
+pleasant smile that Barton was a pretty, agreeable place and the
+neighbourhood a good one. She could answer for it that Mr. Atherton
+would find it no disappointment, but possibly beyond his expectations.
+Mr. Atherton would not allow his compliments to be so misinterpreted.
+His gallantry must not be wasted on the village of Barton when it was
+intended to bring the smile of pleasure to Miss Margaret’s bright eyes.
+He said as much, and received no reply from either lady. However, he
+was satisfied that his meaning had been made clear to them, and was
+for the present content to leave the subject of Margaret’s beauty and
+to display the perfection of his taste in some other particulars.
+
+“You have a very pretty dining-parlour, madam, and a charming prospect,
+but that mulberry tree is too near. Take my advice, madam, and have
+it cut down. You would then secure a beautiful open view across the
+valley.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was so good as to give her reasons for sparing the tree.
+They were that the tree was an old one and supplied some shelter from
+prevailing winds, and that she and her daughter were partial to the
+fruit. Mr. Atherton considered these excuses should weigh but lightly
+against the improved health which might be expected from the removal of
+the tree. Trees too near a house were unhealthy. Small rooms were also
+to be deplored. Did Mrs. Dashwood not consider this dining-parlour too
+small for comfort?
+
+“Our party is a small one,” replied Mrs. Dashwood. “It is large enough
+for my daughter and myself, and it is seldom that we have any company.”
+
+“Still, a spacious room is much to be desired. I would never willingly
+dine in a room less than twenty feet long. Twenty feet or perhaps
+twenty-two. The feeling of being cramped for space is, I think,
+intolerable. I should recommend your throwing this room and the
+adjoining one together. You would then have a very handsome room, one
+of which you could be justly proud.”
+
+“But I should have only one parlour,” Mrs. Dashwood protested, “and
+there is a passage between this and the sitting-room.”
+
+“All the better! You could include the passage, and have a noble room
+indeed. A sitting-room could very easily be built on the lawn there.
+True, you must then cut down the mulberry tree, but that would be all
+to the good. They are untidy trees, and the wood is, I believe, capital
+fuel.”
+
+Margaret suggested that these improvements would be expensive.
+
+“No, I assure you, the cost would be trifling,” was his reply. “My
+father’s own brother enlarged his house in some such way, and the
+cost was really nothing, a mere song, and the improvement beyond all
+words. His room was majestic. No other description would suffice. Truly
+majestic!”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood declared that she and Margaret lived so quiet a life that
+a cosy room was all they desired.
+
+Mr. Atherton considered this point, but would not concede it. It gave
+him, however, a fresh impetus. He now perceived another subject on
+which his advice might be of value.
+
+“But, madam,” he protested, “is it well, do you think, to lead so
+quiet a life? You should travel. Nothing so enlarges the mind and
+refreshes the intellect as travel. Let me urge you to take Miss
+Margaret travelling.”
+
+“We are but just returned from a visit,” said Mrs. Dashwood, still
+smiling, “and I think we are ready for a little quiet. The garden is a
+pleasure, and my daughter has her instrument.”
+
+“Nothing to the purpose,” asserted Mr. Atherton solemnly. “The
+enjoyment of music, the pleasures of scenery, the delights of
+conversation are all enhanced by travel, and nothing can take the place
+of travel as a means of improving the mind.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood, having intercepted a look from Margaret, was unable to
+make any reply, and Margaret interposed sweetly to allow her mother
+time to recover her gravity.
+
+“Where do you suggest our travelling, sir? What have you done yourself
+that you can recommend?”
+
+Then it appeared that he was no traveller himself. He had often wished
+to travel, and had always been prevented, sometimes by inclement
+weather, sometimes by engagements in town, once by an exceedingly bad
+cold, but he was an advocate for travel in general, and believed every
+one was the better for it.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood mentioned the theatre, and Mr. Atherton hastened to
+inform her that Drury Lane was in the course of rebuilding, that Edmund
+Kean was the finest actor of the day, that Mrs. Siddons was growing
+old, that Lady Macbeth was undoubtedly her finest part, and that the
+theatre generally had undergone a change for the better in the past few
+years.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood hardly knew what to do with so much information. She
+was attempting some reply when Margaret gently interposed with some
+remark about the new publications, and in a moment he was off again,
+talking of Scott, of Campbell, of Lord Byron, and of Southey without
+intermission and without any real perception, till the ladies seized
+the opportunity of a moment’s hesitation to rise from the table and
+leave him to his wine.
+
+Mr. Atherton soon followed them. Mrs. Dashwood had taken the precaution
+to have by her some volumes of poetry, and on his appearance
+immediately begged him to read aloud. He selected “The Lady of the
+Lake,” and the evening was passed in tolerable comfort listening to his
+rhythmic rendering of the adventures of James Fitz-James.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+The next morning found the Barton Cottage guest as eagerly determined
+on gallantry as ever. He appeared at the breakfast table full of
+admiration and discourse, and allowed no opportunity to slip of showing
+himself to be at once an ardent observer of beauty and an able critic
+in every department of life. He worked hard at the display and it was
+by no fault of negligence that he was unsuccessful in impressing the
+ladies.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was not without surprise. His admiration of Margaret
+was too determined to be altogether genuine and it was matter for
+wonder that he should be so anxious to secure her good opinion on any
+other grounds than those of real preference. Her fortune was small in
+fact, and there was nothing in their way of living to suggest that it
+was considerable. Mrs. Dashwood therefore acquitted him of mercenary
+designs, but felt at a loss as to what motive should be attributed to
+him. Possibly the whole thing was mere vanity and display.
+
+She had arrived at this conclusion by the time breakfast was finished,
+and spoke her intention of walking out after she had given her orders
+for the day. Mr. Atherton begged to be allowed to accompany her,
+and the permission was reluctantly given, but was immediately made
+valueless by the timely entry of Sir John. Never had she been so glad
+to see his ruddy face and to hear his hearty voice! He was surprised
+himself at the warmth of his reception. Though he had not perceived
+anything amiss on former occasions, he must be conscious of the extreme
+pleasure with which he was greeted now. The pleasure was not however
+unalloyed. He came to suggest that he might have the satisfaction of
+taking Mr. Atherton round the village and making him known to his
+parishioners. So far all was to the good, and the attention to Mr.
+Atherton greatly appreciated by all present; but the happy effect was
+spoiled by what followed.
+
+“If Miss Margaret will forgive me for taking her beau away from her for
+a morning. Never mind, Miss Margaret, you shall have his company this
+afternoon, and be able to show him off too, and turn Miss Nancy green
+with envy, for I am charged by Lady Middleton to beg that you will do
+us the honour of dining with us today; you and Mr. Atherton and Mrs.
+Dashwood too, if she will be so good.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was not in the habit of accepting casual invitations
+to the Park, but on this occasion she thought it best to do so. The
+evil of allowing Margaret and Mr. Atherton to appear there without her
+seemed greater than that of herself enduring the tediousness of the
+engagement. She therefore accepted with her usual grace, and Sir John
+and Mr. Atherton went off together, leaving the ladies entirely without
+regret at their departure.
+
+“Can this possibly be endured?” was the question in both their minds.
+“Is there no way to avoid the continued infliction of the young man’s
+presence?”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was a fortunate woman in that a circumstance which to
+some people would be a grief often presented itself to her happy
+temperament in some other light. Mrs. Thomas greeted her mistress
+with a very long face. Her husband was far from well, was, in fact,
+quite unfit for his duties and, with this gentleman in the house, Mrs.
+Thomas really did not see how things could be as they should. It was
+very much against her husband’s wishes to fail his mistress at such a
+time, but it was hoped that she would understand. Mrs. Dashwood cut
+short the apologies. Of course Thomas must take the necessary rest.
+All could well be arranged. They were dining at the Park that day,
+and she had no doubt that Sir John and Lady Middleton would relieve
+the Cottage of their guest. It would be quite simple for Mr. Atherton
+to be transferred to the Park. Meanwhile they would send word to the
+apothecary to ask him to visit the Cottage and recommend treatment.
+Mrs. Thomas did not think this necessary, and the interview closed
+with mutual esteem--Mrs. Thomas admiring Mrs. Dashwood as a kind and
+considerate mistress, and Mrs. Dashwood full of appreciation for the
+worthy pair who would be the means of ridding her of her uncongenial
+guest.
+
+Margaret was soon acquainted with this desirable prospect, and
+expressed all the elation expected by her mother. She really felt
+satisfaction and relief, but a considerable portion of her mind was
+unaffected by this. She was experiencing some depression of spirits.
+The return home had been eagerly anticipated. She did not greatly
+enjoy the visits to her sisters’ houses. She was there of little
+importance to anyone, and her mother, her chief companion, was,
+naturally, absorbed in the delight of playing with her grandchildren
+and advising their mothers. Delaford was no very pleasurable abode
+for Margaret; and now, when she was come home, what did she find? Sir
+John and Mrs. Jennings with their curiosity and jocularity. Lady
+Middleton, true, was not yet encountered, but what hope was there that
+she would be less cold, less conventional than was her wont? Miss Nancy
+Steele? Uneducated! Inquisitive! What improvement could be looked for
+there? Mr. Atherton, who might have brought some interest into their
+surroundings, was more tedious, more utterly uninteresting than any of
+the others. He had not even the charm of familiarity.
+
+Her mother was her only comfort and, even there, so much brightness and
+eagerness were sometimes hard to appreciate. She _would_ like so many
+people, was so determined to think well of every one, so universally
+affectionate and credulous. Her dislike of Mr. Atherton was a relief,
+but even that would only last a few days. Once he was out of the house,
+and need only be listened to on occasions, he would take his place as
+one of “our kind neighbours who must be treated with attention.”
+
+Margaret felt that her spirits required some change, and she decided to
+take a walk which had been a favourite one with Marianne and herself
+ever since their first coming to Barton Cottage. She would climb the
+High-church down, and there, meeting the fresh wind, she would escape
+from the discontent and weariness of spirit of which she was ashamed.
+Her mother made no objection, and she started on her solitary ramble.
+There was now no Elinor at hand to suggest that every one should take
+exercise together in the same direction at the same time. Mrs. Dashwood
+and Margaret were able to do as they wished without comment. This was
+something to cause rejoicing and, as Margaret mounted the hill in the
+spring sunshine, her spirits rose also.
+
+The slope she ascended led directly from their garden gate, and she
+recalled, as she hastened up it, that day some four years ago, when she
+and Marianne were caught in a sudden storm on the summit, and raced
+each other down the hill. Marianne caught her foot, and sprained her
+ankle. Willoughby had appeared--“Marianne’s preserver.” She remembered
+with a smile that it was she who had given him the name. Willoughby had
+appeared, and had carried her sister to the house, and the next few
+weeks had been all romance and excitement, until the dreadful time had
+come when Marianne had wept all day, and her mother and Elinor went
+about with grave sad faces, and no one ever thought of telling her
+what it was all about. Then her sisters had gone to London and she and
+her mother had spent happy months together, all too soon ended with
+Marianne home ill and Elinor more severe than ever. After all there was
+nothing to excuse so much unhappiness, for Elinor had married Edward
+Ferrars, and they seemed to like each other very well, and not to mind
+being rather quiet and dull; and Marianne had married Colonel Brandon,
+although she always said he was too old to think of marrying, and
+Marianne was not only happy, but rapturously so; and she did not seem
+to think the Colonel dull at all, and would certainly have minded very
+much if he had been so.
+
+All of which passed through Margaret’s mind as she climbed, and
+convinced her that she missed Marianne very greatly, and that it was
+her absence which was the chief cause of her own discontent.
+
+A sharp gust of wind met her on the summit, and, to her consternation,
+the light scarf which she held round her shoulders was lifted from her
+grasp and blew away across the down. She hurried after it, hoping that
+it might catch on some tuft of grass, or stone, or hawthorn tree, and
+over the next rise she encountered it again.
+
+It was in the hands of a young man of pleasing appearance, who had
+evidently caught it on the wind, and was looking at it with great
+interest. She paused on seeing him, and he, at the same moment
+perceiving her, hurried towards her with a smiling face to return her
+property. His manner was so open and unaffected, his pleasure in being
+of use so evident, his eye so bright, his person so agreeable, in
+fact, his whole bearing so truly amiable that she felt some regret that
+it seemed right to do no more than accept the scarf, proffer her thanks
+and turn away to descend the hill.
+
+This was not at all what he approved, however, and he asked at once if
+she had not intended to walk on the down in the direction from whence
+he came. Margaret admitted that this was so, and was proceeding on
+her walk when she found to her surprise that he intended to walk with
+her. Perhaps she was wrong to allow it, but it was not easy to object
+without incivility, and he walked by her side with such easy grace and
+without the appearance of thinking that he was behaving in any way
+out of the ordinary. It was pleasant and it was very unexpected, and
+Margaret was in a mood to appreciate either.
+
+They walked for some three-quarters of an hour, conversing on general
+topics when the high wind made it possible. She parted from him where
+they had met without having learnt his name or told him her own.
+
+As she returned to the Cottage she decided to say nothing of this
+encounter. “It is of no moment,” she thought. “We shall never meet
+again. My mother might think me indiscreet. She might even speak of
+it. They might come to the knowledge of it at the Park.”
+
+With that dreadful thought her mind was finally made up. She would not
+speak of the agreeable stranger to anyone at all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+Dining at the Park was an event which possessed neither interest nor
+novelty. Margaret did not anticipate any pleasure beyond the minor ones
+of excellent food and elegant surroundings. Her mind was, however, so
+pleasantly occupied with the event of the morning that she dressed for
+the engagement with a happy smile and, on joining her mother and Mr.
+Atherton in the hall, and preparing to set out for their walk to the
+Park, she looked so pretty that Mrs. Dashwood gazed at her with the
+tenderest affection and Mr. Atherton with an admiration which for once
+was genuine.
+
+As they crossed the grounds of the Park, Mrs. Dashwood’s replies were
+absent-minded and Margaret said nothing at all. Mr. Atherton had to
+supply all the conversation himself, a feat which was to him no feat at
+all, for he barely stopped talking all the way, and yet arrived untired
+and with fresh stores of information to be expended at the dining-table
+of Barton Park. Here, however, he was unable to have things as he
+liked. Sir John Middleton was fond of talking himself. Mrs. Jennings
+had no notion of being silent, and Miss Nancy Steele seldom paused
+except for breath. It was a thoroughly noisy party, and for the most
+part a happy one. Lady Middleton was pleased with her appearance, and
+that of her dining-table, and only Mrs. Dashwood and her daughter fell
+short of enjoyment.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was at her best only in her own house. She did not care
+for dinner engagements or desultory conversation, and the glare, heat
+and noise at Barton Park were irksome to her. Margaret was as usual the
+subject of much jesting, but shared this honour with Miss Steele, who
+soon succeeded in inducing the main stream of the wit to flow in her
+direction.
+
+Mr. Atherton was placed between them, with the usual allusion to roses
+and thorns, and it was supposed that Miss Steele and Margaret would
+enter into competition to secure his notice. Miss Steele’s victory was
+almost too easy.
+
+“Take care, cousin, the Doctor shall hear of this,” called Sir John
+from the head of the table. “Don’t imagine you are safe. I have his
+address I think. Dr. Davis, Dash Street, Plymouth, isn’t it? We’ll soon
+let him know how you behave.”
+
+“What does it matter to me what the Doctor hears?” called Miss Nancy in
+delighted protest. “He’d better mind his own business I say, and so I
+should say if he were here, right to his face.”
+
+“We’ll get him here, cousin. That’s what we’ll do, and see if you don’t
+call another tune.”
+
+“A fine thing it would be if I couldn’t speak to anyone but him. I
+wonder what he would have thought of me yesterday, for there was a very
+fine young man in the coach with me, and he was most excessively polite
+with the baggage, and asked me if I would have the window up, and did
+I like a corner seat. Most attentive, he was! And he got down, not
+half a mile from Barton Park, and I heard him tell the guard he was a
+stranger, and he asked for some direction, but there was an old woman
+coughing in the road and I could not hear any more.”
+
+Sir John’s attention was attracted. He did not always pay Miss Steele
+the compliment of listening to her, but a man in the neighbourhood
+with whom he was unacquainted, a stranger, was a matter of interest to
+him. He wondered who could have a guest without his having previous
+knowledge of it.
+
+Mrs. Jennings surmised. “Was it, perhaps, Mr. Willoughby coming to
+visit Mrs. Smith?”
+
+Miss Nancy was positive. “La, now! Should I call Mr. Willoughby a
+stranger after all that’s come and gone? Why, I should be ashamed to
+mention him in the present company.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood, on hearing her daughter’s disappointment thus delicately
+referred to, engaged Lady Middleton in a more animated conversation
+than that lady often experienced. Margaret, however, heard good Mrs.
+Jennings say:
+
+“Sh! Sh! We don’t speak of that now. Miss Marianne would not like it
+remembered! If this was not Mr. Willoughby, who in the world can it
+have been?”
+
+“His name was Pennington,” said Miss Nancy.
+
+“Ha! Ha! cousin, so you’ve exchanged names and addresses I see. The
+poor, poor Doctor! I wouldn’t give a button for his chance now.”
+
+“No, Sir John, there you are wrong. I hope I know my dignity better
+than to be asking a strange young man for his address. I just peeped at
+the label on his luggage when he got down at a change, and the name was
+Pennington, as large as life.”
+
+“Pennington? I don’t know a Pennington,” considered Sir John. “But I
+tell you what, cousin! We will find out and invite him to the ball next
+week, and we will get the Doctor too, and, with Mr. Atherton here, we
+will be able to find out who _is_ your beau after all. Only tell ’em
+from me that if they want to cut each other’s throats they must do it
+outside on the lawn there. Her ladyship will not have bloodshed in the
+drawing-room.”
+
+Her ladyship caught only the last word, but it suggested to her a
+mode of release from a conversation which had become wearisome. She
+immediately got the ladies moving away from the dining-room, where they
+left Sir John and Mr. Atherton to discuss their wine and politics, with
+the usual parting admonition that they should be speedy.
+
+In the drawing-room the party divided into two groups. Lady Middleton
+and her mother listened with sympathy to the account Mrs. Dashwood gave
+of Thomas’s health and very ready was the offer of hospitality for Mr.
+Atherton at the Park to relieve the household at the Cottage of their
+guest. Mrs. Dashwood again had reason to feel that, however tedious
+their society might be, they were indeed the kindest of neighbours.
+
+Margaret meanwhile was the recipient of Miss Nancy’s confidences so
+heart-rendingly curtailed at the dining-table, and it was not long
+before she became privately convinced that her acquaintance of the
+morning and Miss Nancy’s beau were one and the same. How far he
+deserved the latter appellation she was still uncertain. Possibly he
+did not deserve it at all; but the thought was unpleasant, and she
+was grateful to Lady Middleton for suggesting that she should try the
+instrument, which had not been touched for many weeks. She remained
+there till it was time for tea.
+
+The gentlemen appeared in the drawing-room, and Mr. Atherton received
+the kindest invitation from Lady Middleton, seconded with prodigious
+warmth by Sir John, to take up his quarters at the Park until his own
+house should be ready for him.
+
+Mr. Atherton did not demur. It was not beyond his power to convey
+suitable thanks to Sir John and Lady Middleton, the right regrets
+to Mrs. Dashwood, the assurance of undying admiration to Margaret,
+and the suggestion of increasing attention to Miss Steele all in the
+same sentence and almost in the same breath. The circumstance was
+undoubtedly of value to him. His consequence would be increased by
+his association with Barton Park and, though anxious for some reasons
+to improve his position with Margaret, opportunities must offer, even
+when separated from her by half a mile. The society at the Park was
+very congenial to him. The same obtuseness of feeling, conventionality
+of expression and denseness in understanding, which were his, also
+distinguished the inmates of the Park.
+
+At Barton Cottage he had not been perfectly at ease. He had not, he
+must confess to himself, found Mrs. Dashwood so gracious and charming
+as he had been led to expect, and the lady whom he held himself
+destined to install at the parsonage was less able in conversation
+and not so easily entertained as he had hoped. She had yawned twice
+during his reading of “The Lady of the Lake,” and was at all times
+disconcertingly silent. Not that he was disconcerted by her silence.
+Not in the least! But he must admit to himself that the agreeable
+circle at the Park had been a great relief.
+
+Margaret heard the invitation given and accepted with calm
+satisfaction, and the evening ended with a quiet stroll back across
+the Park grounds with her mother, followed by Sir John’s man, who was
+to pack Mr. Atherton’s personal belongings and take them to the Park,
+where he himself remained.
+
+It was a welcome change, and Mrs. Dashwood’s tender solicitude for
+Thomas when she got home was deepened by the feeling that she and
+Margaret had reason to feel very much obliged to him indeed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+The next day was so delightfully fine that Margaret professed herself
+unable to stay in the house, and begged her mother’s indulgence for
+taking another long walk. Mrs. Dashwood agreed at once. She supposed
+that Margaret shared her apprehension that Mr. Atherton would appear
+during the course of the morning to sit with them, and sympathized
+with her daughter in desiring to escape. For herself she must bear the
+infliction, but believed that Margaret’s absence would make it a short
+one. She purposely made no inquiry as to Margaret’s direction and would
+inform Mr. Atherton only that her daughter was walking.
+
+She expected a slight annoyance, but it was a much greater one that
+arrived. The post brought a letter from Mr. John Dashwood. It was as
+follows:
+
+                                          NORLAND PARK,
+                                                  SUSSEX.
+                                              _April 15th, 1813._
+
+  MY DEAR MADAM,
+
+  You will no doubt feel some surprise on receiving a letter from
+  me, but have no fear, we are all well, and Fanny desires her best
+  respects.
+
+  You will have with you at this time the new incumbent of the living
+  of Barton, Mr. Atherton, and I trust his manners and address are
+  as pleasing to you as they were to ourselves. A very fine young
+  man indeed, and it is a satisfaction to feel that he owes his
+  preferment, though indirectly, to our interest. No doubt a certain
+  happy possibility will have occurred to you, madam, and rest assured
+  it has not been absent from our thoughts. Mr. Atherton comes to you
+  prepared to admire your daughter, and at Fanny’s express wishes I
+  offer my assistance in securing the settlement of my sister. I told
+  Mr. Atherton plainly that, in the event of his marrying my sister, I
+  was prepared to increase her fortune by one half. I did not inform
+  him of the amount of her fortune, and it may be that he has formed a
+  hope that it is larger than the one thousand pounds left to her by
+  my honoured uncle. However, in the event of this happy occurrence
+  you may rely on my holding to my share of the bargain, and I will
+  increase her fortune by five hundred pounds.
+
+  Margaret is a special favourite of my dear wife’s, and it is at
+  her instigation that I make this offer. She is most anxious to see
+  all our sisters comfortably settled. As she wisely points out,
+  they will then be independent, and we do not wish our dear Harry
+  to be responsible for the support of his aunts, much loved as they
+  undoubtedly would be. One point I must endeavour to make clear. This
+  offer has only been made in the event of my sister becoming Mrs.
+  Atherton. Should she fail to receive his addresses, should they not
+  be made, or even should they be refused, she must be content with the
+  same fortune as her sisters, bequeathed to them by my good uncle.
+  Fanny is particularly anxious that this should be made clear to
+  Margaret. As she wisely and affectionately says, “We must not allow
+  our sister to become the prey of any fortune-hunter.”
+
+  Little Harry desires his love to his grandmother, and believe me,
+  dear madam, to be
+
+                                  Your affectionate son,
+                                               JOHN DASHWOOD.
+
+To say that this letter angered Mrs. Dashwood is to fall far short
+of the truth. Her gentleness and kindness of manner concealed a
+nature more ardent than the generality. Her feelings on reading John
+Dashwood’s letter were indescribable. Indignation and disgust filled
+her mind to the exclusion of all else for some time, till, taking up
+the letter to reread some phrase of which the insolence was not really
+lessened by unconsciousness of offence, her eyes fell on the statement
+that Margaret was a special favourite with her sister-in-law. The
+opposite feelings entertained for Fanny by Margaret struck her sense of
+the ludicrous, and she read over the whole letter with her appreciation
+of its absurdity happily awakened.
+
+It is possible to be angry alone, but a joke must be shared. Mrs.
+Dashwood’s sense of what was proper forbade any mention of the letter
+to Margaret. Marianne would be angered but not amused. Elinor’s
+more delicately balanced mind would perceive the ridiculous while
+reprobating all that was objectionable. To Elinor she would write,
+enclosing the letter, and expressing herself with all the warmth of
+which she was capable. Elinor was a perfectly safe confidante. Her
+discretion was absolutely to be relied on, and to Elinor she could
+allow herself that freedom of speech which only excited Marianne and
+seemed sometimes to alienate Margaret.
+
+She wrote also to John Dashwood, thanking him for his letter and
+remarking that she had no expectation of the kind to which he alluded.
+She added merely love to little Harry, and omitted all mention of
+Fanny. A “curiously cold letter” this was considered at Norland Park,
+but, as Fanny added for her own satisfaction: “Some people are unable
+to express themselves in letters. It is a mark of good breeding to be
+able to do so, but, unfortunately, every one does not possess the gift.”
+
+John remarked with admiration that his Fanny would always make excuses
+for every one, and that he dared say his mother-in-law meant very well
+and felt more gratitude than she expressed.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood enclosed a copy of her reply to Norland Park in her
+letter to Elinor, and felt that she had washed her hands of the affair.
+
+Fortunately for Mr. Atherton, he did not call on her that morning. He
+considered it to be his duty to his parishioners to pay a visit to
+every humble dwelling, and this would occupy the whole morning. He sent
+this message by Sir John, who added:
+
+“However, he hopes to be allowed to wait on you to-morrow morning, so
+Miss Margaret need not think him faithless just yet.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood replied that her daughter would be most unlikely to think
+anything about the matter, but Sir John only looked wise, and murmured
+something about “young ladies,” which Mrs. Dashwood did not wish to
+understand.
+
+An awkward silence was broken by Sir John. He had made inquiries about
+Miss Nancy’s other beau, and found that there was some one of the name
+of Pennington staying at the farm near the Abbeyland--Grice’s farm.
+
+“He is some relation of Mrs. Grice, and comes of very low people. It
+seems he is in the navy, but the navy admits all degrees nowadays. I
+am afraid Miss Nancy will be disappointed. Lady Middleton will not
+have him invited to the Park, though for my own part, if a man is a
+well-looking man and a good sportsman, it does not matter to me who his
+grandfather was. However, her ladyship’s views are different, and we
+all have to do as our wives say we must.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was only interested in this in so far as she imagined
+that, while Sir John ran on about Miss Nancy’s beau, it was
+impossible for him to touch on anything relating to the state of
+her own daughter’s affections. She therefore welcomed the change of
+conversation, and they agreed very comfortably over the evils of chance
+acquaintanceships and the deplorable mixture of classes which obtained
+in the navy.
+
+Margaret’s walk had been taken in the same direction as that of the
+previous day. She did not resolve to go in that direction. Her feet
+carried her thither. She had formed no opinion as to what or whom
+she would find when she reached the summit of High-church down, but
+it was not surprise that caught her breath, and not displeasure that
+brought her to a standstill when she came in sight of her companion of
+yestermorning, and was greeted by him with all the warmth and civility
+which would have been justified only by long acquaintance.
+
+Somehow, justification seemed unnecessary. He was there, and she was
+with him. The wind was not so boisterous this morning; and, as they
+walked side by side, she could hear all that he told her. He had been
+in many parts of the world--much in the Mediterranean and in the East
+Indies. He had been at Trafalgar when a lieutenant in the “Orion.” He
+had seen Lord Nelson and Admiral Collingwood. He hoped to be employed
+again shortly. In the meanwhile he had come to see an old cousin of his
+mother’s, who lived in this neighbourhood, and who had been his nurse.
+Her name was Mrs. Grice. Did she know Mrs. Grice? Margaret assented.
+He had more to tell her of his journeys and of his home-comings. How
+different was this flow of talk to that which she had endured from the
+new vicar! So quiet, so easy was his manner, so modest and impersonal
+his account of his adventures, the interest so real and sustained!
+
+He asked no questions, but Margaret found that she was telling him
+something of her own life and more of her own thoughts than she had
+ever told. The hour that they passed in each other’s company seemed
+short. They parted, and Margaret returned home.
+
+This time she was resolved that her mother should know of the meeting.
+It was all a chance occurrence, and of no real importance, but she felt
+it right to tell her mother the little there was to tell.
+
+She opened the door, and found Sir John sitting with Mrs. Dashwood.
+He rose to greet her; and, casting about in his mind for a suitable
+witticism, he hit on the very thing to make her reconsider her
+resolution.
+
+“I have sad news for Miss Nancy when I get back to the Park. Her new
+beau is only a common fellow after all, a relation of the Grice who has
+the farm near the Abbeyland. No good at all! She will have to set her
+cap at Atherton, Miss Margaret, so you must keep on the look out to be
+ahead of her.”
+
+Never had Margaret’s sweet smile of composure been harder to maintain.
+Sir John’s jokes had always been distasteful. To-day they were
+something more. Her mother intervened.
+
+“You look tired, my love. You have walked too far. Sir John will excuse
+you, if you will go and rest.”
+
+Sir John, however, excused himself, and went off with his sad news
+for Miss Nancy, after securing Margaret’s promise to join in a ball
+at the Park next Monday when the moon would be at its full, and it
+would be possible to collect the young people from all parts of the
+neighbourhood.
+
+“Sir John is a kind neighbour,” Mrs. Dashwood remarked absently.
+
+Had she omitted to make that statement, it is possible that Margaret
+would have told her of the morning’s meeting. With Sir John’s kindness
+the subject of commendation it seemed all at once impossible. What
+could her mother say beyond giving her the conventional warnings and
+the obvious gentle reproof? Margaret decided that the whole thing
+was too unimportant to be spoken of. She did not intend to walk in
+the direction of High-church down again and, even if she did, it was
+improbable that her acquaintance would do the same. She did not allude
+to the matter, but listened with apparent interest to her mother’s
+account of Thomas’s progress and Sir John’s visit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Margaret held to her resolution not to walk on High-church down next
+morning. She found it increasingly hard to do so, and became conscious
+of deeper dejection of spirits with every hour of sunshine that passed.
+
+Mr. Atherton came and talked of the family at the Park, and of most
+of the families in the village. If interest in other people’s affairs
+makes a good parish priest, there was no doubt that he would be an
+excellent one, but it was more and more clear that the even more
+desirable qualities of disinterested goodness and refined tastes
+were deficient. Margaret found it almost impossible to sit still for
+weariness.
+
+The next day was Sunday, and Mr. Atherton “in the pulpit” was eagerly
+anticipated by the congregation. Enough to say that he surpassed all
+expectations, his own and other people’s. He was more eloquent than he
+had thought possible himself; more learned than the simple parishioners
+had wished; more noisy than Sir John in his slumbrous moments liked;
+longer than Lady Middleton approved, and even more silly than Mrs.
+Dashwood and her daughter expected.
+
+Sunday afternoon was spent by Margaret in pacing the shrubbery, and
+sitting with her mother when she was too weary to continue her exercise.
+
+Monday evening, so eagerly anticipated by other young ladies of Sir
+John’s acquaintance, was looked forward to by Margaret with quiet
+distaste. She entered the ballroom without the smallest hope of
+enjoyment. This is frequently exactly the state of mind which leads to
+the keenest pleasure; and, if the evening did not afford quite that to
+Margaret, it was at least amusing and interesting beyond her hopes.
+
+She was necessarily engaged to Mr. Atherton for the first two dances
+and, as she performed her task with all the grace of mind and motion
+she could summon to her aid, she became aware of an entry which made
+some stir in the company.
+
+“Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby” were announced, and again she beheld the
+man who had once been so familiarly known and so dearly loved by her
+sister and mother. “Our dear Willoughby!” How often she had heard him
+so spoken of! He looked older, graver, but handsome, well-dressed as
+ever, and again his presence and manner put that of other men somewhat
+in the shade. Amazing man! Wherein lay his charm? She knew him to be
+faithless, mercenary, careless of other’s good, but when he approached
+her at the end of the first two dances and inquired for her mother and
+sisters, his deference of bearing, his earnestness and his wish to
+please overcame at once her remembrance of the distress he had caused.
+He asked her to dance, and she complied.
+
+He spoke of Marianne, calling her by her name. Was she happy? As
+beautiful as ever? Did her son resemble her? Was she ever with her
+mother at Barton? His questions came fast, as if they had been long in
+his mind.
+
+She answered with what discretion she could, but discretion was swept
+on one side by his eager inquiries. She knew it to be wrong. He was a
+married man--had slighted her sister for his present wife. What right
+had he to such feelings? What could he mean by so expressing them? He
+did not, as a fact, mean anything. He was desirous of having news of
+Marianne, and careless as ever of appearances.
+
+Margaret could not approve, but she found his continued infatuation for
+her sister in some way engaging. They had met on High-church down. It
+was but right that young men who frequented the down should be deeply
+in love. Margaret blushed at her thought, but continued to think it.
+Light, music and graceful motion do induce these thoughts. Perhaps
+balls were invented for that very purpose.
+
+The rest of the evening was less interesting. Mr. Atherton claimed
+another two dances, and a very young Mr. Carey secured another two. Mr.
+Willoughby applied to her for the last two, but she was tired, tired of
+him and tired of herself. She pleaded fatigue and sat down till Thomas,
+now fully recovered, arrived with a lantern, which the bright moonlight
+made unnecessary.
+
+She was glad to be again in her mother’s parlour and to drink some
+soup by the fire, which the chill of April evenings still made
+comfortable. Her mother’s surprise and displeasure on hearing that she
+had danced with Mr. Willoughby were soon charmed away by her account
+of his conversation. He had no right to take such liberties, but Mrs.
+Dashwood was sorry for him. It was but natural that he should still
+love Marianne--though it was very wrong. It was pleasing that he
+should so desire to hear of her--but she could not excuse the affront
+to his wife. Mrs. Willoughby was not at all pretty and looked very
+ill-tempered, Margaret said, but that was no excuse for neglect. All
+the same Mrs. Dashwood felt excuses, if she would not make them, and
+the end of it all was that he was much to be pitied, and that Marianne
+was much happier as Mrs. Brandon than she ever could have been as Mrs.
+Willoughby.
+
+Margaret wondered privately if this were so.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+On Tuesday morning, after the exertion and excitement of the ball,
+Margaret’s need for fresh air and quiet exercise was excessive. She
+could not remain within doors, and, once out, she must get to the
+uplands. She could not be kept for ever from her favourite walk, she
+argued. In all probability her acquaintance had left the neighbourhood.
+
+At first, when she gained the heights, she thought this must indeed
+be the case, for she could not see him anywhere. He was lying on the
+grass not far away. He rose at once and came towards her with reproach
+in his eyes. Where had she been? He had come here each morning during
+her absence. She found herself under the necessity of excusing herself
+for not having joined a stranger on his morning walk. Her excuses were
+accepted, or at least listened to, and they were off again across the
+downs. Delightful companionship! Delightful converse! Hot rooms and
+silly jests seemed far away in this place of open sky and distant
+prospects.
+
+It was a happy morning and ended, as before, with the parting where
+they had first met. No promise was made of coming again, but Margaret
+felt that was understood and, though wondering at herself as she ran
+down the slope, she knew that she did not mean to fail him.
+
+Now was the time when Mrs. Dashwood must be informed. It would not be
+right to keep her longer in ignorance. Margaret resolved to tell her
+mother, and perhaps she could arrange that they should meet. He would
+come to the Cottage. She was full of virtuous resolves, the performance
+of which she must, however, postpone, for as she opened the parlour
+door she heard the high-pitched laughter of Mrs. Palmer, and saw that
+she and her husband were sitting with Mrs. Dashwood.
+
+Mrs. Palmer was Mrs. Jennings’s younger daughter, and consequently Lady
+Middleton’s sister. Except that both had been admired as beauties,
+there was no resemblance between the sisters. Lady Middleton seldom
+spoke more than was necessary, and Mrs. Palmer never stopped talking
+and laughing when in company. She had been married very young, and,
+if her husband seemed a little tired of his wife’s conversation and
+laughter, it was no more than other people felt with less cause. She
+had her mother’s great gift of good humour, and was really very pretty.
+On the whole, Margaret preferred her to her chilly sister and was
+usually not averse to her company. To-day she did not want anyone, and
+it was an effort to retain her composure.
+
+“My dear Miss Margaret! How glad I am we have not missed you! It would
+have been shocking, and Mr. Palmer would have been so concerned, and so
+should I. Wouldn’t you, my love? Wouldn’t you have felt it detestable
+if we had not seen Miss Margaret?”
+
+Mr. Palmer turned over his newspaper.
+
+“He is so droll. He always pretends he does not hear me, but he hears
+very well, I know, and he would have been shockingly disappointed if
+you were not come in. You will wonder why we are come to Barton, though
+indeed we should have been long since. I have asked and asked Mr.
+Palmer to bring me, but he would not--always some excuse--until the
+day before yesterday he comes into my room, and he says, ‘Charlotte,
+will you come with me to see your mother?’ ‘La, my love,’ says I,
+‘you do not mean it.’ And then it all came out. There is a Commander
+Pennington, an old friend of his, staying here. They were at school
+together, and he is bent on seeing him again. I knew it was not my
+mother he wanted to see, for they quarrel whenever they meet, though
+I believe they like each other very well all the same. Well, we only
+arrived this morning, and we are to go on to London to-morrow, so
+there is no time to lose. Mr. Palmer has been to see this Commander,
+but he was out walking. However, we have left a note asking him to
+dine up at the Park. Will you not come too, my dear? Mr. Palmer will
+be so delighted if you are one of the party, for you are a prodigious
+favourite of his. My love, do help me to persuade Miss Margaret to dine
+at the Park this afternoon.”
+
+“I cannot persuade her if she has not been asked, can I?” was the only
+encouragement Mr. Palmer gave.
+
+“La, my love, you know Sir John would ask her at once, and my sister
+would not mind whether she came or not. You leave all that to me,” with
+a burst of merriment.
+
+Margaret excused herself from accepting this second-hand invitation on
+the score that she had been at the Park the day before and, though Mrs.
+Palmer laughed excessively at such a reason, she was obliged to accept
+it.
+
+“Have you heard anything of the Commander?” asked Mrs. Palmer.
+
+Margaret admitted that she had heard that he was staying in the
+neighbourhood, and Mrs. Dashwood added that she believed he had
+travelled with Miss Nancy Steele.
+
+“La, yes, indeed! We have heard all about that,” Mrs. Palmer agreed
+contemptuously, laughing at the recollection.
+
+Mr. Palmer laid aside his paper and got up to take leave. His wife was
+obliged to do as he did, and at last they were gone.
+
+Margaret went to her room to think the situation out. Soon they must
+meet at the Park. If it were known that they had met before, who
+could tell what would be said? More than she could bear to listen
+to! Her mother ought to know of their acquaintance--of that she was
+convinced--but it would be easier to tell her later, when Commander
+Pennington was known to her, and when his quiet deference should have
+assured her that he had taken no liberty beyond what was natural and
+right.
+
+Margaret decided, though with an uneasy conscience, to postpone talking
+to her mother for the present. This was made easier by Mrs. Dashwood
+retiring to her chamber with a headache, and she herself passed the
+evening with no company but the firelight and her own thoughts. Happy
+thoughts and restless thoughts, that ranged from the open down to the
+dining-room where they were all collected at the Park! Would he hear
+that she had been invited and had refused to give him the meeting?
+Would this anger him, or would he, as she thought, understand? In any
+case, she could hardly have accepted so careless an invitation. She
+did not want to meet him there, under the fire of comment, but it was
+inevitable in the next few days. She longed for the happy insensibility
+of Marianne and Willoughby, who had never seemed to notice what anyone
+said, but only what they said to each other. She recollected herself.
+She was going too fast. She had met the Commander only three times.
+Marianne and Willoughby had been constantly in each other’s society.
+She must not, would not, imagine so much when so little had occurred.
+
+She took up a book and endeavoured to read. She opened the instrument
+and played, until she remembered her mother suffering in the room
+above. She returned to her seat by the fire and became again a prey to
+restless thoughts.
+
+Tea came in, and she took a cup to her mother. As she descended the
+staircase there was a knock at the door and, there being no time to
+return to the parlour, she waited where she was while Thomas opened the
+door.
+
+“Mrs. Dashwood is unwell, sir. She cannot receive visitors. Miss
+Margaret, sir? Step in, sir, and I will inquire.”
+
+Margaret came down the stairs, greeted the Commander and led him into
+the parlour.
+
+He had come, he said, to say good-bye. A post had arrived for him,
+and he had got employment. He was to be in the “Wren,” a sloop of war
+cruising in the Baltic, convoying, for the next six months. He had
+been dining at the Park, and was walking back to the farm. He could
+not resist coming. He would not intrude, but must leave early on the
+morrow, so took this opportunity----
+
+He kept his eyes on her face anxiously, but Margaret’s habit of
+composure concealed her feelings, and he could not know what she
+suffered.
+
+Thomas had told Mrs. Thomas, and Mrs. Thomas thought it her duty to
+inform her mistress that a strange gentleman had called to see Miss
+Margaret. Maternal feelings would no doubt have got Mrs. Dashwood off
+her bed even if curiosity had failed to do so. She occupied only a few
+minutes in arranging her dress, and came down to find her daughter and
+a strange man standing by the fire together. He was holding her hand,
+and it seemed not unlikely that more might follow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Mrs. Dashwood’s astonishment was very great. It was impossible to doubt
+what she saw, and equally impossible to account for it. Margaret had
+hardly been away from her during the seventeen years of her life, and
+how she could possibly be on terms of intimacy with this unknown man
+was a question to which there seemed to be no answer.
+
+Margaret’s feeling on her mother’s appearance was relief. She was
+very young, and unprepared for any great decision. For the moment
+she had forgotten the amazement her mother must feel, and presented
+Commander Pennington to Mrs. Dashwood with scarcely less than her usual
+composure. Mrs. Dashwood could only conceal her feelings under a manner
+as austere as she was capable of assuming.
+
+There was a pause, but Commander Pennington had the sailor’s quickness
+of perception and simplicity in dealing with a situation.
+
+“I have had the happiness of meeting your daughter on the downs,
+madam, on one or two occasions.”
+
+The word “happiness” seemed to have more than its formal sense as he
+used it, but the phrase was conventional and Mrs. Dashwood could not
+object to its use. He continued:
+
+“I have received orders to join my ship immediately and I leave here
+to-morrow. I called this evening to say good-bye.”
+
+He finished with an air of having entirely explained his visit at eight
+o’clock in the evening at a house where he was a stranger. Nothing, it
+appeared, could be more reasonable and proper than that he should be
+there, and be found by her mother holding Margaret’s hand.
+
+He sketched out for them his probable employment in the Baltic,
+convoying merchantmen past the Danish coast to the Island of Rügen. He
+hoped to be on shore again in about six months, when he would have the
+happiness of seeing them again.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood found herself included in his cheerful friendliness, and
+it was not in her nature to do less than smile, and murmur something
+which he could take as acquiescence. Margaret meanwhile sat silent. She
+was happy, in a quiet glow of content. His going seemed remote and he
+was giving her more and more the belief that she would be his object
+in coming again. He sat with them for half an hour, conversing with
+Mrs. Dashwood, whose manner by degrees softened, until at parting she
+gave him her hand and wished him well. To Margaret he turned as he went
+out, and, taking her hand, he pressed it and said in a half-audible
+tone:
+
+“I will come back. You will wait, will you not?” He was gone.
+
+Margaret knew that her mother had a right to an explanation, but to
+give it seemed beyond her powers. Her mind was agitated, and she longed
+for solitude and silence. Mrs. Dashwood did not return to her room,
+but took up her needlework. She did not say anything, but her whole
+attitude was an unspoken question.
+
+Margaret began with hesitation:
+
+“I do not know him at all well. We just met once or twice on the downs.
+It was strange of him to call.”
+
+What could the tenderest of mothers say to that? Mrs. Dashwood felt her
+sympathy checked and resorted to quiet reproach.
+
+“But, my Margaret, I do not understand how you came to make his
+acquaintance. I fear I have allowed you too much freedom. Why have you
+not told me of your meetings with this man?”
+
+“I do not think that there was anything worth telling about them. I am
+sorry he disturbed you when you had a headache.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was angered. Her daughter had concealed from her what was
+undoubtedly of moment, and now parried her questions with something
+like insincerity. She sat with a grave face, employing herself with
+her needlework, and Margaret sat beside her engaged only with her
+thoughts. She wanted her mother’s sympathy, but felt unable to ask for
+it. All these explanations that were, she supposed, necessary, all
+this surprise and blame must come first, and all she wanted was to
+understand and be understood. “Wait!” What could she wait for but one
+thing only? What could that be but the offer of his hand? He had better
+have left it unsaid. It was at once too much and too little. Not enough
+to give her confidence and too much for her peace of mind.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood’s thoughts were sadder because more experienced. She
+was a woman whose ardent nature led her to depths as well as heights,
+and she was now reflecting with gravity on her own failures in life.
+She had failed with Elinor. All through Elinor’s anxieties about
+Edward and his engagement to Lucy Steele, she had not known of her
+daughter’s trouble. She had been impatient with her, thought her cold
+and unfeeling, and sympathized with Marianne, who said what she had
+only thought. Elinor loved her, she knew, in spite of all, but that
+was to Elinor’s credit, not to her own. Then with Marianne, how she
+had encouraged her in her attachment to the faithless Willoughby! How
+ill-judged she had been in allowing him such frequent opportunities!
+All the sorrow of Marianne’s disappointment she laid at her own door.
+It was her fault entirely. True, Marianne adored her mother, and was
+the most devoted of daughters when they were together, but that was all
+due to Marianne’s loving nature. She herself deserved only reprobation.
+Now her Margaret concealed from her, almost lied to her, rather than
+be troubled with her sympathy, and she herself was uncertain whether
+to sympathize or to blame were the better course. Either might be as
+mistaken as anything she had ever done. Mrs. Dashwood’s tears began to
+flow, and instant relief was the result. She glanced aside at Margaret
+and something in her attitude suggested that she too wept.
+
+When two ladies who have an affection for one another weep at the same
+time and for the same cause, and the cause is none other than their
+fear of being unkind to one another, a reconcilement is not far away.
+A very few moments passed before there were a few gentle embraces,
+more tears, and Mrs. Dashwood and her daughter were once more in each
+other’s confidence.
+
+Margaret kept nothing back--as she had said, there was very little
+to make known, and Mrs. Dashwood put all reproach resolutely behind
+her, and was tenderly sympathetic. For that evening all was peace and
+happiness for both of them, and Margaret went to sleep that night with
+the thought of her mother’s affection mingling with the words:
+
+“I will come back. You will wait, will you not?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Margaret’s first feeling on awaking next morning was relief that her
+mother now knew all. There had been very little to know or to conceal,
+but it was a comfort to feel that the reason for her reticence--the
+apprehension of being talked over at Barton Park--was understood. Mrs.
+Dashwood was quite ready to seem satisfied by this explanation, though
+she felt herself at liberty to think what more she chose.
+
+Margaret, by her confidence and by her tears, had ensured herself
+against any further reproach from Mrs. Dashwood. She was not, however,
+ensured against discomfort from other causes. No sooner was breakfast
+over than Sir John’s loud voice, Mrs. Jennings’s cheerful talking, and
+Mrs. Palmer’s hearty laughter were heard in the hall. Mrs. Jennings
+could not resist coming to see how Miss Margaret looked after parting
+with her new beau.
+
+“The Commander is a very fine young man, my dear, though he has such
+low connections and no fortune to speak of. A good riddance, I say,
+Mrs. Dashwood! He would not do for Miss Margaret at all, but I will
+not deny that he is agreeable. Mr. Palmer and he were at it hammer and
+tongs with their politics and their this and their that. I never heard
+Mr. Palmer say so much before.”
+
+Margaret’s only reply was a smile, harder to assume than when young Mr.
+Carey or Mr. Atherton was the beau referred to. She could not conceive
+how so much was known, but would not make a single inquiry. It could
+not be long before something intelligible was uttered when so much was
+being said by three people all at once.
+
+It was Mrs. Palmer who enlightened her.
+
+“My mother is always for making a joke, but you know we did think it
+strange when Commander Pennington described you, and asked where you
+lived. There was something about a scarf to be returned, I think. I did
+not understand it all. It seems your scarf blew away and he caught it.
+I hope you have it safe again.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Margaret, “it was returned to me.”
+
+“Oh,” cried Mrs. Jennings, “but that was only the beginning of your
+acquaintance. And now he is gone, and that had better be the end, Miss
+Margaret. We cannot have you taken all over the world, when there are
+several near at hand who would like to keep you here.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood endeavoured to lead the conversation away from Margaret
+by inquiring as to the intimacy between Mr. Palmer and Commander
+Pennington. Mrs. Palmer was delighted to be the chief talker, and
+related how they had been at the Royal Naval Academy at Portsmouth
+together, but that Mr. Palmer had succeeded to the property. So it
+had ended in his not going into the navy after all, and very glad she
+was of it, as to have a husband at sea would be a shocking thing. She
+laughed merrily at the thought, and was still more amused at the idea
+that with the war still going on there would have been danger of her
+becoming a widow.
+
+“But of course I should never have married him at all in that case,
+so I should not have minded it in the least, except that of course I
+should not have liked to be an old maid.”
+
+Mrs. Palmer, having been thus providentially spared from early
+widowhood and perpetual spinsterhood by the circumstance of Mr. Palmer
+not having entered the navy, was naturally against that profession. She
+had much to say of its evils, and recounted with hearty laughter the
+hardships that she knew to be the lot of a naval officer’s wife.
+
+She was on her way to London. Mr. Palmer would call for her almost
+immediately. The House was sitting, and he had his duties as a member.
+She called specially to know if Mrs. Dashwood had any message for
+her son and his wife, as she would be very happy to convey it. Mrs.
+Dashwood was firm that she had no such message to send. She had written
+to them a day or two ago, and had nothing to add to what she had then
+written.
+
+Sir John and Mrs. Jennings were warm in giving the usual invitation to
+dinner. It was urgent in this case, as the loss of Mr. and Mrs. Palmer
+would leave them disconsolate, a party of five, when only yesterday
+they had sat down eight to dinner. Mrs. Dashwood could not be so cruel
+as to refuse.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was, however, deaf to all calls of humanity, and would
+have excused her daughter also, but Margaret, seeing clearly that
+any reluctance on her part to go into society would be construed as
+“wearing the willow,” accepted with seeming satisfaction, and Sir John
+and Mrs. Jennings returned to the Park easy in their minds that Mr.
+Atherton’s chances were as good as ever.
+
+Mrs. Palmer remained to chatter for half an hour till her chaise
+arrived, to give Margaret repeated invitations to join her in London,
+all of which were steadily declined, and to recount over and over again
+the sayings and doings of her son, only four years old, but already
+famed for his wit and beauty.
+
+Mr. Palmer came. Margaret would have liked to hear something of his
+friendships at the Royal Naval Academy, but he had very little to
+say beyond grumbling at the weather and the roads. Mrs. Dashwood
+congratulated him on having effected a meeting with his friend, and he
+replied that it had been very agreeable. He further volunteered that
+he wished there were more like Pennington, but that was all; and the
+couple soon drove off, Mrs. Palmer laughing and waving till she was out
+of sight.
+
+Margaret hardened her mind as she dressed for her dinner engagement
+that afternoon. She would not pay any attention to their jokes, and
+she would not understand their questions. She was prepared for much
+discomfort which she would bear with a smiling face. In the event it
+was not so bad. As before, Miss Nancy Steele had much to say, and had
+no idea that Commander Pennington was to be interested in anyone but
+herself. The Commander and the Doctor took up about the same space in
+her mind and Mr. Atherton had all the rest. Margaret found that she
+had no need for defence against jocularity, as all the wit was to be
+expended elsewhere. Mr. Atherton sat next her and was attentive, but
+his gallantry took the form of praising her music, and this gave her
+an excuse to pass most of the time after dinner at the instrument. It
+was a fine one and to play on it gave her real pleasure.
+
+As Lady Middleton, who was fond of cards, was able to get up a rubber,
+and Sir John had been out all the morning and was glad to get some
+sleep, the party may be said to have been productive of more enjoyment
+than is usual at such gatherings. There was no one who had not some
+degree of happiness, and even Miss Nancy Steele, who had Mrs. Jennings
+for a partner, and would have preferred Mr. Atherton, was consoled by
+winning three shillings, which would just pay for the new pink ribbons
+she wished to purchase in time for her next meeting with the Doctor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+The next few weeks passed without any particular incident to vary their
+monotony. The summer was a fine one, much of the time was spent out of
+doors, and, though Margaret might wish for a walking companion, nothing
+at all was said about it.
+
+The parsonage was now ready for Mr. Atherton, and he went there from
+the Park early in July. Hardly a day had passed without his calling
+at the Cottage, and Mrs. Dashwood had come to regard his visits as
+inevitable and therefore no subject for complaint. He talked too much
+and had very little sense, but he was an amiable man, and she had come
+to that time of life when for an acquaintance to be amiable is held to
+be a recommendation. She felt, or imagined she felt, that she liked
+people to be dull rather than disagreeable, and uninteresting rather
+than bad-tempered, and, though it is no doubt regrettable that these
+opinions are so often held by people of forty years of age and upwards,
+there may be something to be said for their point of view.
+
+As Margaret had foreseen, Mr. Atherton was now considered to be
+entitled to Mrs. Dashwood’s patient attention, and Margaret herself,
+whatever she might feel of weariness, treated him with steady
+gentleness. That she did not believe herself to be thereby giving him
+what is called encouragement was due to her being without the suspicion
+of his desiring anything in particular.
+
+The day came, however, when his wishes were to be made known to her.
+He arrived one morning with a special request to make. It was that
+the ladies should lay aside their occupations to walk with him to the
+parsonage and explore the house and gardens.
+
+“There is much still to be done to both, and I feel the touch of a
+lady’s hand is needed to make the house all that it should be. It
+is to me a little bleak and bare, and, though I have plans for its
+improvement, I want to have your sanction, your agreement in what I
+propose. Your taste and discernment are needed both within and without.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood professed herself very happy to put her taste and
+discernment, such as they were, at Mr. Atherton’s service. Margaret,
+as usual, said nothing, but it did appear that her silent consent was
+needed for the proposed improvements. Their work was laid aside, their
+walking dresses put on, and they were ready to accompany the young
+man. Before they left the house he turned to survey the parlour, and
+said with enthusiasm:
+
+“If I could but achieve this look of home, this air of peaceful
+industry, in my own house, how happy should I be!”
+
+This admiration for Barton Cottage must have been increased by his
+daily visits, for it could not be forgotten that his first comments had
+been mingled with dispraise. There was something forced about so much
+admiration, and to Mrs. Dashwood’s mind there had been more sincerity
+at first, if less good manners.
+
+He continued in this strain of laborious gallantry as they walked to
+the parsonage. Mrs. Dashwood became uneasy. She feared to look at
+Margaret lest she should be unable to continue to listen with suitable
+gravity, and it was a relief when they turned in at the garden gate and
+had something definite to attend to.
+
+The garden was very well laid out, with a hen-run and a shrubbery, and
+apple trees and a rubbish heap, all most convenient. No detail escaped
+observation, and the garden alone occupied the best part of an hour.
+They were then led indoors. Fruit and cake were ready on the sideboard
+in the dining-room, and the rest and refreshment were indeed welcome.
+The ladies were tired out. Such continual admiration had been demanded
+of them that they would have been thankful to see something that
+merited disapproval. But no such relief was to be theirs. The standard
+of excellence of the house was even higher than that of the garden, and
+everything must come under their notice. Margaret began to wonder if
+even the mousetraps in the back larder would escape comment. The brass
+toasting-fork and the fire-screens, the foot-stools and the wool-work
+mats had all received their due, and Mrs. Dashwood lingered behind in
+the linen-room to examine some fine table-cloths which attracted her.
+
+Margaret was taken on to the study, and walked up to the book-shelves,
+in the contents of which she felt real interest. To her astonishment
+she found herself ardently addressed by her host, her hand taken in
+both of his, and an urgently-worded proposal of marriage laid before
+her. In a speech of great length, which must have cost him some pains
+to compose and memorize, he was asking her to become the mistress of
+the house in which they were standing.
+
+He argued that their tastes were similar, their ideas in unison, and
+their prospect of happiness very great. She would be settled near her
+mother, for whom he had an abiding deference. Her indoor pursuits and
+her outdoor pastimes would be equally considered, and she would find
+that in her own domain she would be paramount. His arguments were
+excellent, and he evidently knew his oration by heart, for he never
+faltered in its delivery or allowed her to interpose any objection. He
+paused at length and waited for her reply.
+
+She gently declined his offer and begged to be allowed to rejoin
+her mother. He was not only disappointed, he was surprised, and was
+preparing to repeat some of his representations when Mrs. Dashwood
+came into the room, and further protest was impossible. They almost
+immediately took leave, and to their relief Mr. Atherton only
+accompanied them as far as the garden gate.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was quickly told of the offer. Margaret was regretful at
+giving pain, but surprised at the necessity. She had not thought him
+attached to her for the reason that she did not think him sufficiently
+indifferent to wealth and position to wish for a wife with so small a
+fortune. She did not believe him to have any real regard for her. She
+had therefore paid little attention to his show of admiration, and none
+at all to the hints thrown out by Mrs. Jennings. However, the offer had
+been made, and had been declined, and it remained to be seen whether
+Mr. Atherton’s desire for sympathy would be stronger than his pride;
+whether he would let his disappointment be known at the Park, or
+whether he would keep it to himself.
+
+Perhaps the distress was not so great as to require condolences.
+Perhaps his vanity preferred secrecy to pity. Perhaps some other cause
+was at work, but to Margaret’s relief it became evident that nothing
+had been said at the Park, and in many ways it appeared certain that
+Mr. Atherton had accepted her decision as final.
+
+Often when we think we are safe, calamity is near at hand. Not many
+days had passed before Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret, returning from
+their walk, found John Dashwood awaiting them. He was standing by the
+window, and they could see the annoyance on his face as they turned in
+at the gate. He was staying at the parsonage, he replied, in answer to
+Mrs. Dashwood’s ready offer of hospitality. He had merely called in to
+inquire. He did not immediately say what was to be the extent of his
+inquiries, but it was clear from his expression that something more
+than their health was involved.
+
+It soon became evident to Margaret that nothing more would be said of
+his mission so long as she remained in the room. Mr. Dashwood replied
+to all questions and remarks in monosyllables, and occupied the
+intervals by looking at her with patent displeasure. She therefore
+excused herself on the plea of changing her walking dress, and left
+her mother to listen to whatever it was that John had to impart.
+
+He did not begin at once. Possibly the subject was harder to open
+than he had expected. It was evident that he was angry, and uncertain
+whether he were rightly so.
+
+“I hope you are pleased with the work done at the parsonage, and that
+you find Mr. Atherton is satisfied,” said Mrs. Dashwood in the course
+of her polite inquiries.
+
+Mr. Dashwood replied that it was the dissatisfaction felt by Mr.
+Atherton, and imparted to himself and Fanny by letter, that had brought
+him hither.
+
+“My sister is young,” he went on, with an air of making every allowance
+possible. “She cannot be expected to foresee the future. It therefore
+behoves us to help her in her decision. It cannot, I think, be your
+wish that she should decline Mr. Atherton’s addresses. She is unlikely,
+living as she does in retirement, to have such an offer made to her
+again. Perhaps she is not aware--Mr. Atherton is not of a boastful
+disposition, and it is probable that she is not aware--that he has a
+private income in addition to the living and that his expectations are
+very good. There are several unmarried aunts in good circumstances,
+and an uncle, also unmarried, who is even wealthy. Margaret would,
+in all probability, become a rich woman in time. Meanwhile with her
+small fortune, augmented as Fanny and I suggest, they would be very
+passably comfortable. Their income would be more than half that of
+my sister, Elinor, although she married Fanny’s own brother. Yes,
+decidedly Margaret would be in a better position in some ways! Her
+expectations would be better, and she would be marrying with the good
+wishes and approval of all concerned, which, as you recollect, my dear
+madam, was not unhappily the case of Elinor and poor Edward Ferrars.
+They were honoured by your approval, I am aware, but the grief felt by
+his excellent and affectionate mother was very distressing. But enough
+of that! What is done cannot be undone! In Margaret’s case no such
+objection would arise. I think it possible that in good time she might
+be as rich as Marianne, or even more so, if she succeeded in becoming
+a favourite with Mr. Atherton’s relations. I feel sure that all this
+has not been laid before her. Possibly you yourself are not aware of
+it. I blame myself for not having made the matter clearer in a letter
+which I had the honour of writing to you on the subject. But it is not
+too late! I have secured from Mr. Atherton the promise that, if he is
+assured that his proposals will be accepted, he will renew them. This
+he has definitely agreed to, and his only stipulation is that he should
+be informed of the alteration in my sister’s mind at once, or at least
+during the ensuing week. After that time he will consider himself at
+liberty to pay his addresses in another quarter. So, madam, there is no
+time to be lost if we are to secure this admirable settlement for my
+sister, and I beg you to use your influence on our behalf.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood had made no attempt to reply. No opportunity to do so
+had been given her, but now he paused. She reminded him that he had
+said that this marriage would have the approval of all concerned. She
+could not agree. It would not have her own approval. She considered Mr.
+Atherton a very agreeable good sort of man, but not one likely to make
+her daughter happy. Margaret’s inability to accept his proposals had
+her approval. The marriage could only take place against her wishes.
+
+This seemed to her to be as strong a statement as was required. John
+Dashwood, however, did not think so. She had no wealth to enforce her
+arguments. She made no threat of cutting Margaret out of her will,
+and even had she done so it would be a matter of minor importance
+to a young lady favoured by the prospect of such a settlement in
+life. Obedience to maternal authority could not be expected when so
+little was to be gained by it. He therefore renewed his arguments,
+reinforcing them by the information that the elder Mrs. Ferrars
+had heard of Margaret’s prospects and highly approved, and even
+contemplated sending a wedding present, and that Fanny had written to
+Lady Middleton begging her kind offices in the matter.
+
+The knowledge that Lady Middleton would certainly take no notice of
+such a request was Mrs. Dashwood’s only consolation. John and his
+wife were capable of angering her more deeply than any others of
+her acquaintance. She resented the difference in their thoughts and
+feelings the more on account of their relationship to her daughters,
+and she sometimes felt that she would be thankful indeed could she
+be sure of never seeing or hearing of them again; and that even an
+open quarrel would be welcome if it could bring about so complete a
+misunderstanding as must end their intimacy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+John Dashwood’s visit to the parsonage was not yet over. He was still
+making daily demands on the civility and patience of the inmates
+of Barton Cottage, when such welcome guests arrived as must lessen
+the disagreeables of his visits. Their circle was enlarged, their
+conversation improved, and their tempers relieved by the arrival of
+Elinor and Edward Ferrars. It was a joyful meeting. The influence of
+Elinor’s calm and balanced mind was just what her mother required,
+wearied and irritated as she had been for the last few days.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood did not intend to confide her deeper anxieties to Elinor,
+but it was not long before she had done so, and Elinor was put in
+possession of all that Mrs. Dashwood knew of Margaret’s intimacy with
+Commander Pennington.
+
+Elinor much disapproved of all she heard. Margaret clearly had been
+very indiscreet and, she feared, rather sly in concealment. She looked
+grave, and gave no encouragement to be happy to her mother, who had
+therefore to supply all arguments for cheerfulness herself, and did
+so to good purpose, representing that Margaret knew him so slightly it
+was impossible that she should be much affected, and, at the same time,
+he was so agreeable a man that a marriage between them would be highly
+satisfactory; that six months at least must pass before they met again,
+which was time enough for them either to change their minds or to make
+them up, whichever process were desirable; that he had no doubt enough
+money to marry on, but that Elinor herself must know that money was not
+an essential for happiness. In fact, she argued all ways at once, and
+the only circumstance that seemed certain and fixed was that Margaret
+was to be happy and that all was for the best.
+
+Elinor listened, glad that her mother should be able to console
+herself, but privately deeply concerned at what she considered to be
+unwise. She determined to bring the subject up with her sister, and to
+let it be known how much she feared an unhappy ending to the affair.
+
+In the meantime she was able to give all the sympathy that was desired
+over the annoyance of her brother’s interference. Mr. Atherton seemed
+to her a very poor figure of a parish priest. She had always before her
+the idea of Edward, so generous and devoted in his work, so refined
+in mind, unworldly and of such genuine goodness that the type of
+clergyman of which Mr. Atherton seemed to be an example was altogether
+disgusting to her. She warmly supported her sister and mother in their
+dislike of him, and John Dashwood, who could get nothing but calm
+disagreement and denials from Mrs. Dashwood, was even more daunted to
+find that Elinor was no more open to reason than his mother-in-law.
+
+He had no wish to offend anyone, and presently gave up his self-imposed
+task of getting Margaret a husband with the warning that he was by no
+means prepared to endow her choice or that of her mother, as he would
+have endowed his own. Mrs. Dashwood seemed hardly to regard this loss
+of five hundred pounds. Indeed, the only way to be sure that she had
+fully understood the matter was to repeat his ultimatum more than once.
+He returned to Norland Park unsuccessful in his errand, but at least,
+as he told Fanny, he had carried out his father’s last injunctions to
+take care of his sisters and, as the event had turned out, might regard
+himself as richer by five hundred pounds.
+
+Elinor made an early opportunity to get Margaret alone, with the
+intention of taxing her with her indiscretion and undue reticence.
+She began by inviting Margaret to walk with her on High-church down.
+There was something unexpected about this to Margaret, just enough to
+put her slightly on the defensive. Elinor’s choice of a walk was more
+often along a road and with some definite good object in view. To-day,
+however, though the excellent intention was not lacking, she chose the
+heights. It was a deliberate choice. She wished to recall to Margaret’s
+thoughts Marianne’s folly and its melancholy conclusion. She had not
+reckoned with other visions, other ideas which filled Margaret’s mind
+almost to the exclusion of all else.
+
+Elinor began by reminding her sister of the day of Willoughby’s
+appearance. Margaret was much surprised at such a subject being
+introduced. She had been considered as a child by her two sisters,
+and had met with such severe rebuffs from Elinor on this subject that
+the idea of discussing the love affairs of one sister with the other
+was altogether distasteful to her. She listened politely to Elinor’s
+account of the surprise felt by her mother and herself when Willoughby
+came into the house with Marianne in his arms. Elinor said that she
+herself had almost immediately felt the deepest uneasiness. Marianne
+had been so powerfully attracted, the young man was so easily attached;
+in fact, the whole thing was too light, too casual to be lasting.
+Elinor, it seemed, had always known this, and had tried to warn
+Marianne and her mother, but they had disregarded her. If such a case
+were again to come under her notice she would be able to give the same
+warnings with a deeper urgency. She could now almost say that she knew
+how unlikely such a situation was to bring about domestic happiness
+such as she herself enjoyed.
+
+Margaret listened, agreed, deplored the lack of caution shown by
+Marianne and the instability of Willoughby, when called upon to do so;
+agreed again as to the dangers of such intimacies; agreed further that
+they should be discouraged. Elinor could find no loophole, nothing on
+which to fasten an inquiry. Nothing but agreement! If Margaret had ever
+had any idea of confiding in her sister this manner of approach would
+have decided her against it. She had absolutely nothing to say on the
+subject.
+
+Elinor bore this in silence for some time, and then, remembering how
+much trouble might have been spared them if Marianne had been induced
+to make some statement, she tried again, this time with rather more
+success.
+
+“Mamma tells me, Margaret, that you have lately made the acquaintance
+of a certain Commander Pennington.”
+
+Margaret’s colour was brighter as she agreed again.
+
+“Mamma is anxious about it. She does not think the acquaintance a wise
+one. She does not think he has much stability of character.”
+
+Elinor was more justified in making this statement than seemed
+likely. Mrs. Dashwood had said much on all sides of the matter in her
+perturbation, and it was true that she had expressed some such fear.
+It was one among many fears; but to Margaret it seemed more. To her
+it appeared as the considered opinion of her mother on him whom she
+immediately felt to be her lover. She waited a moment, and then replied
+quietly that she considered it impossible for either her mother or
+herself to form an opinion of Commander Pennington’s character. The
+acquaintance was a slight one, and might never be renewed.
+
+Elinor felt it impossible to continue the conversation; but she had
+said enough--more than enough--to make up Margaret’s mind. She was now
+definitely determined that she would marry Commander Pennington if he
+asked her, and as definitely certain that she very much wished he would
+so do.
+
+Margaret owed this self-knowledge to her sister’s interference, and
+felt that she would have had more peace of mind without it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Sir John Middleton was so fond of parties that not many days were ever
+allowed to elapse without his forming some plan to bring young people
+together. His activities were very well thought of in general, and
+it was perhaps only the family at Barton Cottage, who were perforce
+included in all his schemes, who wished him less hospitable and
+enterprising.
+
+The occasion of Elinor and Edward Ferrars staying at Barton Cottage
+must receive some special mark of attention from the Park. They dined
+there as a matter of course, and they drank tea there on the next day,
+but these entertainments, though they seemed to be sufficient to the
+Ferrars, were to Sir John the merest foreshadowing of the delights
+he had in store for them. There was to be a picnic, a ball, and if
+possible theatricals, and all were set on foot with eagerness.
+
+The picnic was the most easily arranged. They would all walk or drive
+next Monday to the Priory and eat a cold collation there among the
+ruins. The Careys and the Whitakers were to be invited, and they would
+all be together and better able to plan for future happiness.
+
+Monday came, and was not more unsuitable for picnicking than July days
+usually are. The air was mild, the rain only slight and intermittent,
+and the ground not particularly wet. It was a pleasant day for walking,
+and the party from Barton decided to walk as the ruins were little more
+than a mile distant. The Careys had farther to come and would drive
+or ride. Only the youngers of this family were to be expected. Sir
+Francis and Lady Carey were disinclined to leave their home occupations
+whenever Sir John Middleton wanted a little company, but the young
+people would arrive in satisfactory numbers, Walter Carey, who would be
+the next baronet, his two elder sisters, and his two younger sisters in
+charge of their governess. The Whitakers, a middle-aged couple with a
+son and a daughter, had accepted and would certainly drive.
+
+The Barton party was the largest. Sir John and Lady Middleton and their
+children, Mrs. Jennings and Miss Steele, reinforced by Mr. Atherton
+and the four from Barton Cottage would have made a very respectable
+picnic-party without the distant neighbours who had been asked to join
+them, but Sir John delighted in numbers, and considered any gathering
+that consisted of less than twenty persons as lamentably small.
+
+The party were to meet at noon, enjoy the cold viands that Lady
+Middleton provided, explore the ruins, and discuss the theatricals.
+Anyone who had any ideas on the subject was to produce them, and
+between them all something good would be decided.
+
+Lady Middleton was to drive with the children and baskets, and Mr.
+Atherton was active in getting them seated in the carriage and
+the baskets handed in. Several small jokes passed between him and
+Annamaria, and William wished him to drive with them. Amidst much that
+was affected in him, his liking for children seemed as genuine as
+their affection for him, and Lady Middleton smiled on him with extreme
+graciousness. She had felt hitherto not the slightest inconvenience
+from the continued intimacy with the new incumbent, and now began to
+think him a positive acquisition. He watched the carriage start to
+overtake the main body, already on their way. Sir John escorted Mrs.
+Dashwood and Elinor. Margaret had the society of Mrs. Jennings and
+Miss Steele, which suited her very well, as they did all the necessary
+talking. Mr. Atherton found that Edward Ferrars had remained behind to
+walk with him.
+
+It was natural that they should fall into some talk, some comparison
+of their parishes. Barton seemed to have the advantage in some ways.
+It was smaller. There was less visiting to be done among the poorer
+parishioners. The income was slightly larger, but it was annoying to
+find that the parsonage at Delaford did seem to be superior in size,
+and in extent of grounds, and that, though the Barton vicarage had been
+altered and improved, it did not appear that it was in any way equal.
+Mr. Atherton expressed some surprise at hearing of so fine a house,
+but added that he supposed Mrs. Edward Ferrars’s fortune must be an
+assistance to her husband in maintaining such a style of living.
+
+Edward was puzzled. Elinor’s fortune was no more than the thousand
+pounds inherited from her grand-uncle, and he was at a loss to
+understand why it should be supposed to be considerable. He hesitated,
+remarked coldly that the Miss Dashwoods had not been wealthy, and began
+to talk of the best breeds of cattle. Mr. Atherton became more or less
+silent, that is, he replied when Edward asked questions, but originated
+nothing himself. He was thinking, and the sum of his thoughts was
+that the late rebuff might be all for the best. He did not feel much
+affection for Margaret if she were without fortune. He liked her very
+well, and admired her more than any other lady of his acquaintance,
+but he now felt quite satisfied with the turn affairs had taken. During
+that walk to the Priory, while discussing short-horns with Mr. Ferrars,
+he finally withdrew his pretensions to Margaret’s hand.
+
+Meanwhile, Margaret, unaware of her loss, walked beside Mrs. Jennings
+and heard the flow of joking and laughter which she kept up with Miss
+Steele, and thought of something quite different.
+
+The Careys had arrived at the Priory before them, but nothing could be
+done about unpacking the baskets till the Whitakers should be there.
+The time must be spent in exploring the ruins, and strolling about
+in twos and threes. Margaret was easily induced by Walter Carey to
+climb the remains of an old tower, and from thence to obtain a fine
+view of the country. It was a delightful exercise with just enough of
+effort and danger to make it entertaining, and to make his steadying
+hand acceptable. She enjoyed the small adventure, and found Walter
+an agreeable companion. He was just returned home from Oxford, was
+well-read and sufficiently talkative, and added the advantage of an
+agreeable person to those of an easy manner and an intelligent mind.
+They returned to the main party well pleased with themselves and with
+each other.
+
+The party were now collected. Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker and Mrs. Jennings
+seemed to find great pleasure in meeting, and were settled with Mrs.
+Dashwood on a bank sheltered from the breeze by a corner of ancient
+wall. Lady Middleton overlooked the unpacking of the baskets, which was
+being done by Elinor and Isabella Carey, while Penelope Carey and Mary
+Whitaker carried round the trays of cakes and glasses. Sir John was
+joking with Miss Steele, and cutting up veal pies, and Henry Whitaker
+handed plates.
+
+Mr. Atherton had arranged the children round a fallen stone as table
+with the Careys’ governess at one end, and himself at the other, and
+had piled the table with the good things. This looked the most cheerful
+corner, but Margaret was not invited to join them. Walter found a
+seat for her under an arch, and Edward strolled up to tell her that
+he supposed she knew that she looked very picturesque, like a saint
+in a window, or something of that sort. She was used to his brotherly
+teasing, and made some suitable replies at about the level of the wit
+that is usual at these gatherings, when no one says anything that they,
+or any others consider worth a second thought.
+
+It was all very agreeable, and the rain held off surprisingly. Every
+one declared that they ate twice as much in the open air as they did
+at home, and wondered why they did not come here more often; and got
+rather sleepy, and then rather restless--and at last it must be time to
+go home.
+
+“But this will never do,” cried Sir John. “We have decided nothing
+about the play.”
+
+“How charming it would be if we could have it here!” exclaimed Isabella
+Carey. “What a background that fine Norman arch would be! Surely there
+is some play that would suit these surroundings?”
+
+“Hamlet” and “Macbeth” were suggested, but Sir John wanted something
+with more in it to amuse.
+
+“How about ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ or that laughable play of Mr.
+Sheridan’s, ‘The Rivals’ I think it’s called, or ‘The School of
+Rivals,’ or something of the sort?”
+
+These, however, were ruled out. Walter Carey was firm that a ruined
+church was not the right setting for them.
+
+“Well, then, much better have it in the Park grounds!” said Sir John.
+“There is a nice open space not too far from the house, with trees and
+a flight of steps that would make a scene to suit anything.”
+
+A few drops of rain began to fall and Lady Middleton, in fear for her
+children catching cold, hurriedly suggested that all should return to
+the Park, look at the place Sir John described, and talk over all the
+details under cover. Wraps were hastily found, and the party set off
+with utmost expedition for the Park.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Walking or driving, it was not long before the whole party reached the
+Park. The first half-hour was occupied in strolling about the grounds
+between two showers to make up their minds where the theatre should be.
+
+Several admirable spots were discovered, but no decision could be
+reached until every one came together again in the large drawing-room.
+Acting out of doors seemed a very imprudent scheme to some of the
+elders, but there was a strong body of optimists who held to the idea;
+and, as they were warmly supported by Sir John, a pastoral play it was
+to be.
+
+“We had a pastoral play at Oxford last term, in Worcester Gardens,”
+said Walter Carey. “We played ‘Comus.’”
+
+“‘Comus’?” called out Sir John. “What’s ‘Comus’?”
+
+“‘Comus’ is a masque,” replied Walter.
+
+“The very thing,” proclaimed Sir John. “There will be some fun about
+that! We will play ‘Comus.’ How many parts are there?”
+
+Walter Carey was very willing for it to be “Comus.” He thought he could
+play the leading rôle better than the man who had the part at Oxford,
+and at least would like the opportunity to try. Sir John’s expectation
+of something funny might be inconvenient, but something to please him
+could no doubt be managed in the rout.
+
+No one had anything to urge against “Comus,” and for the same reason
+could say nothing in its favour. Excepting Walter, Margaret and Henry
+Whitaker, no one knew anything about it. However, Sir John’s enthusiasm
+for the unknown carried the company along with him, and “Comus” was
+unanimously chosen for the play.
+
+The next thing was to decide the parts, and for this a copy of the play
+was desirable. It was feared by Sir John that Walter would have the
+only copy in the neighbourhood.
+
+“Not at all, sir,” replied Walter. “Surely there is a Milton in your
+library.”
+
+“Milton!” said Sir John, his enthusiasm rather dashed. “I did not know
+it was by Milton. I thought he only wrote long poems about the Garden
+of Eden?”
+
+“Not at all, sir,” again replied Walter. “He wrote some plays and
+political pamphlets as well--quite a secular writer in his way.”
+
+This reassured Sir John, and Margaret, who had made more use of the
+Park library than anyone else had ever done, offered to fetch the
+volume of Milton containing “Comus,” and returned with a book no more
+dusty than might be expected considering it had been undisturbed for we
+know not how many years.
+
+“You had better take the part you did before, Walter; it will save you
+the trouble of learning a new one,” said Sir John.
+
+Walter blushed and hesitated, and then admitted that he had been the
+Lady at Oxford and would prefer some other part.
+
+“Mr. Carey had better be Comus,” said Margaret. “It is by far the
+longest part, and he must already be familiar with the whole play, so
+could learn it easily.”
+
+Walter was grateful for this suggestion, and every one else was willing
+that he should have a long part to learn.
+
+“Excellent,” said Sir John. “And you had better be stage-manager too,
+and put us all in the way of it. For, except for charades, I have never
+done anything of the sort. Just give me a part in which I can make some
+noise and get a few laughs out of the audience, and you can divide all
+the long speeches between you.”
+
+It was necessary to get the opinions of the rest of the party before
+going further. Miss Steele liked acting excessively, but never could
+remember her words. Lady Middleton stipulated only that there should be
+parts for William and dear little Annamaria, and of course for John, as
+they would be inconsolable if they were not included. Henry Whitaker
+looked urgent, hoping he would not be left out, but said nothing, and
+the young ladies all thought one of the others should be the heroine.
+Edward Ferrars was applied to, but said he did not think acting suited
+to the dignity of the cloth, and Mr. Atherton replied that he would
+like to be employed as prompter. Elinor Ferrars said decisively that
+she wished to be one of the audience.
+
+Walter found himself expected to allot parts to five ladies, five
+children counting his own little sisters, Sir John, Henry and himself,
+and to give pleasure to all of them in doing so. It was an anxious
+half-hour for the young man, but he came through it with creditable
+success, though his opening words were not auspicious. He had to
+announce that there were only two parts for the ladies, the Lady and
+Sabrina. He began by suggesting that Margaret should be the Lady.
+Miss Steele bridled, but the two Miss Careys and Miss Whitaker united
+in acclaiming this choice, though Isabella Carey’s face lengthened
+and Miss Whitaker appeared surprised. Margaret, however, would not
+consent. If Mr. Walter Carey was to be Comus, it would be best that one
+of his sisters should be the Lady. They would have many opportunities
+for rehearsal, and both parts were so long that much study together
+would be necessary. Margaret thought that Isabella should be the Lady.
+She had a singing voice, and the song was of importance. It was clear
+that no one else could be so suitable for the part. Miss Carey was well
+content to have it so, and her modest objections were soon talked down,
+the more easily as she really thought herself well suited to the part.
+
+There were now four young ladies, and the part of Sabrina among them.
+Walter’s hesitation was excusable, but again Margaret came to his help.
+
+“I have been thinking,” she said, “that the parts of the Brothers could
+very well be taken by ladies. Some long mantle worn thrown over the
+shoulder would make a handsome appearance, and be a suitable dress,
+and they were both represented as very young. The line, ‘As smooth as
+Hebe’s their unrazor’d lips,’ seems to fit very well.”
+
+There was general laughter and a brightening of eyes and renewed hope
+among the ladies, though poor Henry Whitaker looked as though his
+last chance were gone. Walter quickly decided that his younger sister
+and Miss Whitaker, who were both taller than Margaret, should be the
+Brothers, unless Miss Steele----?
+
+But Miss Steele was horrified at the idea. She to take a man’s part
+indeed! Not for the world would she be so bold! No, Sabrina would do
+very well for her!
+
+There was a silence. Walter was again in a dilemma. This time it was
+Henry who gave help.
+
+“Sabrina has got to sing. I know, because we did ‘Comus’ at school last
+half. Can you sing, Miss Steele?”
+
+Miss Steele could not, but suggested that some one might sing behind
+the scenes for her. There was again silence, interrupted by a cough
+from Sir John, which reminded Walter that a part had to be found for
+him.
+
+“What would you like, Sir John? Will you be Comus?” he asked with an
+heroic effort. “Or would you like to lead the rout? I think Henry must
+be the attendant Spirit. It is a long part, and he knows the play.”
+
+Henry’s anxious look changed to one of bashful happiness. Sir John had
+an easy method of coming to a decision.
+
+“Which has most to say--Comus or the rout fellow?” he asked.
+
+“Well, actually Comus has a considerable number of lines to say--some
+hundred--but of course we shall have to cut the whole thing down
+somewhat. Still, Comus has undoubtedly got a good deal to say. The
+leader of the rout has--well, he must make as much noise as possible
+and dance about. It is a very active part.”
+
+“I never could learn poetry. I will lead the rout,” Sir John decided
+to the general satisfaction, and he added a grace to his decision
+by asking Miss Nancy to lead the rout with him, as she did not like
+learning poetry either, and was so fond of dancing.
+
+Miss Steele reddened and hesitated, but Miss Carey’s suggestion that
+the members of the rout should all be very gaily clad, in contrast to
+the rest of the company, who must be in white or sad colouring, decided
+the point. Miss Steele would be a prominent figure in the rout, and the
+part of Sabrina was left for Margaret, who could sing and did not mind
+wearing plain white.
+
+The children, three Middletons and two Careys, were to be inferior
+members of the rout, and all was now happily arranged except the music.
+At first it was thought that the music must come from within doors, but
+Penelope Carey luckily remembered that her sisters’ governess could
+play the harp reasonably well, and was a very good sort of girl. It was
+decided that she should be established behind some shrub and contribute
+all the music necessary.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+The next days were productive of constant bustle and amusement
+for the actors, even if others of the party felt only boredom and
+inconvenience. Elinor was against the whole scheme. It was taking up
+time which could have been more rationally employed. The performance
+was sure to be inferior, and the weather would probably be bad. The
+gentlemen were all too busy to fish with Edward, and she herself was
+pressed into service to help with the arrangement of the dresses. They
+had come to Barton hoping for some rest and refreshment, and found
+themselves in all this turmoil. It was true that there was no one at
+liberty to entertain Edward Ferrars, and it was fortunate that he was
+much more fond of his own society than that of any other creature
+with the exception of his wife, and possibly of his brother-in-law,
+Colonel Brandon, so did not feel this to be an evil. His stay at Barton
+must necessarily be short. He had only arranged for his duty to be
+taken for one Sunday, and he must return to his parish. Elinor was
+to stay on. This had not been part of the original plan, but there
+were several reasons for the decision. Young Master Ferrars was safely
+established at the mansion-house at Delaford under the care of Marianne
+and the nurse who attended to Master Brandon. Edward himself wished
+his wife to have the pleasure of a longer stay with her mother. Elinor
+was convinced that she could be of use at Barton in discouraging in
+Mrs. Dashwood any inclination to take a romantic view of Commander
+Pennington’s advances. She was not without hope of exercising a wise
+influence on Margaret. Edward was very much against her attempting
+any such thing, and gave it as his opinion that no good came of
+interference; but Elinor would not allow that wise suggestion could be
+classed as interference, and she reminded Edward that he himself had
+experienced the folly and misery of a premature love affair. All of
+which was moderately convincing to Edward, and entirely so to Elinor
+herself. She would stay on till the early days of September, for Sir
+John Middleton was then to join Colonel Brandon at Delaford for some
+shooting, and would take her in his carriage all the way. Margaret was
+glad that her mother had her sister’s company while she herself was so
+much engaged with the theatricals, and did not connect her prolonged
+visit with any of her own hopes or desires.
+
+In addition to the pleasure of having Elinor with her, Mrs. Dashwood
+was very well amused by the theatricals. Margaret brought her so
+entertaining a description of all that went on that to the pleasure of
+listening to a lively recital was added the happiness of hoping that
+the impression made by Commander Pennington on Margaret’s mind was fast
+fading away. She looked so happy and cheerful that it was reasonable to
+suppose her heart-free. It was not in Mrs. Dashwood’s nature to fear
+when it was possible to hope.
+
+Margaret was, in fact, enjoying the theatricals excessively. It was
+essential to her happiness at present to have every moment of the day
+occupied. Thinking did not suit her at all. Too soon thinking gave
+way to longing, and longing to unreasonable fears. She was better
+employed in learning her lines, practising her song, making her dress
+and helping the other members of the party to do the same. She had
+not a long part herself, and for this reason she was in constant
+demand to hear others recite theirs. The offer to hear hers in return
+could always be made, with small risk of acceptance. Walter Carey in
+particular found no one so kind and inspiring.
+
+Sir John and Miss Steele had no concern but their dresses, which were
+to be as gay and fantastic as possible, and the five children had to
+be fitted with masks and taught some sort of order in their disorderly
+rout, that they might not hurt themselves or each other.
+
+Walter was a careless stage-manager, inclined to think that everything
+would settle itself, and that the chief parts were all that concerned
+him. But, if the play was to be anything but an absurdity, these minor
+matters must receive attention, and there was no one so suited for the
+task or so willing to be employed as Margaret. In everything she was
+ably assisted by the Careys’ governess, Miss Fairfield, who had her
+own little charges well in hand, and through them was able to exercise
+some sort of control over the little Middletons, who were constantly
+surprising themselves by doing what they were told.
+
+Lady Middleton was concerned as to who should and who should not be
+asked to view the performance--the task of selection being made no
+easier by Sir John inviting every one he met--and also as to what
+should be the nature of the refreshment to be provided. She could not
+be satisfied with anything short of complete elegance, and, on asking
+Walter Carey how this had been managed at Oxford, was disgusted to hear
+that he thought there had been something handed round. Perhaps some
+beer or cider. He was not sure!
+
+Mrs. Jennings thought it all rather tedious. She could not find that
+there was a word of love in the play from beginning to end. It was
+all long speeches and brothers going about after their sister. Such
+foolishness! The speeches had been severely cut down, they said, but
+they were still a great deal too long to her mind, and not what anyone
+would say. Very different from Mr. Sheridan’s plays, where you could
+think it was yourself talking half the time! She thought they would all
+have enjoyed a few balls and picnics much more than all this solemn
+saying of poetry over to each other in corners. She had given her old
+red satin to Nancy Steele to make a good appearance in the rout, but
+beyond that she could not find anything to do to help, and she thought
+they had best get on without her. She would sit by Mrs. Ferrars in the
+audience and quiz them all with her and Mrs. Dashwood.
+
+Perhaps the children were more completely happy than anyone. Their
+part was just to make a noise and wear queer dresses, and, if children
+cannot be pleased with that, they are very strange children indeed,
+and, though Lady Middleton might believe hers to be exceptional, they
+proved themselves in this to be very like the little Careys.
+
+As to the rest of the company, the Lady and Comus were thoroughly
+pleased with their own parts, though often despondent about the
+others. The Brothers were sometimes assailed by doubts. Did they, in
+fact, look as much like two young men as they hoped? Henry Whitaker
+found his part of attendant Spirit very hard stuff to learn, Sir John
+occasionally had a hankering after the part of Comus, who had some very
+good things to say, and Miss Nancy Steele was not always sure that
+even wearing red satin made a member of the rout one of the principal
+figures in the play.
+
+Margaret’s task was to encourage all these, to keep some control over
+the rout, to advise the Careys’ governess as to the music, and to be
+sure that Mr. Atherton had his prompter’s copy correctly marked with
+cuts and pauses.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+The rehearsals were the perquisite of Sir John. It was at the Park that
+they were held. His drawing-room it was that was daily filled with
+guests; his servants that were daily called upon to provide casual
+meals; and his box-rooms and cupboards that were ransacked for stage
+properties. A very happy state of things for Sir John, who could never
+be too much in company, but less agreeable to his lady, who liked her
+household arrangements to move smoothly, and not to progress in jerks
+and runs.
+
+Sir Francis and Lady Carey began to feel that their young people were
+accepting hospitality for which no return was being made. Though not
+fond of company themselves, this situation was not agreeable to them.
+They decided that some effort must be made, and the result of their
+consultation was that Walter Carey rode over to Barton on Sunday
+afternoon, commissioned by his mother to invite the party to Newton
+for the following day. There was to be a rehearsal in the morning; the
+whole party was to dine, and after tea more neighbours were to come in
+for a ball. It was to be a day of festivity, and Walter Carey looked as
+if he expected to enjoy it.
+
+Elinor was at first inclined to excuse herself and to declare herself
+unable to leave her mother, but Walter immediately included Mrs.
+Dashwood in the invitation, and, though she laughingly declined on her
+own behalf, she was determined that Elinor should be of the party. It
+was just such a gathering as a young woman should enjoy, and Elinor
+could not be excused from enjoying it. She had been to many such
+parties at her mother’s instigation, and been exceedingly weary at
+them, and was really reluctant, but Walter’s smile carried the day and
+she consented to be made happy, so far as being continually in company
+for a space of twelve hours could make her so.
+
+Walter rode off to secure other guests, brimful of pleasure himself
+and leaving a very fair amount behind him. The project would be an
+agreeable change to Margaret. Sir Francis and Lady Carey were superior
+in sense and taste to the Middletons, and, even had they been without
+these claims to her interest, they had at least the quality of being
+less well known. Every one must feel that a party was the pleasanter
+for Walter’s presence, and it was four years since she had been to
+Newton Hall. They were to be called for early by the Barton Park
+carriage.
+
+The morning was fine, and they started for the drive of four miles
+in excellent spirits. Mr. Atherton joined them, and the barouche was
+full; Sir John driving with the manservant beside him, and Elinor,
+Miss Steele and Margaret sharing Mr. Atherton’s attentions between
+them. Lady Middleton had thought the day too long for the children, and
+stayed at home herself to be with them.
+
+The drive through deep Devonshire lanes was a very pretty one, and all
+were delighted with the charm of the journey, and even more delighted
+to have it over, to judge by the pleasure expressed when they came
+in sight of the house, a fine Tudor mansion, with walled gardens,
+fish-ponds and wild shrubbery, all very much like many other country
+gentlemen’s seats, but not the less deserving of admiration on that
+account.
+
+Walter Carey met them with enthusiasm, and Sir Francis with cordiality.
+It was to be the last before the dress-rehearsal, and Sir Francis was
+to be admitted as audience and critic, and, if Lady Carey could find
+time from her preparations for the evening, it was hoped that her
+opinion would be obtained too, though privately this was not considered
+to be of equal importance.
+
+That the rout would only consist of four in place of seven noisy
+people was to be deplored, but much was said on the wisdom of avoiding
+excitement for children, and much was thought on the comfort of the
+young Middletons being absent from the party. It was hoped aloud that
+the four would be unruly and noisy enough for seven when the proper
+time came, but remembered in silence that the Middleton children had no
+idea of any time being unsuitable for noise and disturbance.
+
+Mr. Atherton greeted his friends, the Carey children, with affection,
+and was dragged off at once to see the fish-ponds, Miss Fairfield going
+also to see that the little girls did not presume on his good nature.
+
+The rest of the party were conducted indoors for rest and refreshment.
+Lady Carey, though not so anxious for elegance as Lady Middleton, kept
+an uncommonly good table, and the repast that awaited them of fruit,
+cakes and excellent home-made ginger wine was enjoyed without any demur
+as to the earliness of the hour. Mary and Henry Whitaker arrived on
+horseback, with their evening clothes packed in the saddle-bags, and
+everybody was ready for the rehearsal.
+
+Sir Francis was accommodated with an armchair in the middle of the
+lawn, as sole audience, and the rest of the party went behind the
+bushes in order to make their entrances as much a surprise to Sir
+Francis as was possible. Elinor had offered her services to Lady Carey,
+and was within doors with her, helping in some of the preparations for
+the evening, which could not but be a strain on the best ordered house
+and the best trained servants.
+
+The attendant Spirit had said some of his curtailed speeches,
+rather bashful at being the first to speak, and feeling sharply the
+incongruity of his riding-boots, when Sir Francis rose from his chair
+with a shout of welcome.
+
+“Willoughby! On my life! What brings you here?”
+
+Willoughby was coming across the lawn with his usual easy manner of
+being sure of a welcome wherever he might appear.
+
+“I heard you had something of this sort going on, Sir Francis, and you
+know my passion for acting. We are staying at Allenham, so I came over
+to see if I could be of any use.”
+
+The rout were being held in leash by Sir John, and Walter was looking
+round the bushes to see what the interruption was about, and Margaret,
+from her bush, peeped too. Walter, of course, knew nothing except that
+this tiresome fellow was interrupting the rehearsal, but Margaret was
+highly entertained. The meeting between Willoughby and Elinor employed
+her thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Just what degree of cold
+dignity would Elinor assume? This was an audacity of which few but
+Willoughby would be capable, but it formed a situation that had at
+least the merit of being worthy of observation.
+
+Willoughby was given a chair, and his presence no doubt added zest to
+the acting. Walter was determined to make a good show before this older
+man, who was yet of his own generation. The Lady was more graceful,
+the Brothers more dashing, and the rout, if possible, more noisy than
+heretofore. Miss Steele especially surpassed herself in the spirit and
+vigour of her dancing, and Sir John was much gratified by Willoughby’s
+incessant laughter.
+
+When all was over Sir John came to shake hands and be congratulated.
+
+“Funny piece, isn’t it? That bit where we all come tumbling in ought to
+amuse our audience. I like to see a man laugh as you do. Shows a good
+heart!”
+
+“I have been vastly entertained, Sir John,” replied Willoughby with
+a bow, and then, as Walter came up, he turned his compliments with a
+finer edge, congratulating the younger man on the fine speaking of the
+lines which the whole company achieved.
+
+“Miss Margaret’s song is delicious. A most melodious voice, like her
+sister’s but not so full and sweet. Mrs. Brandon had the voice of an
+angel, unequalled in tone and expression.”
+
+He spoke with great feeling, sighed heavily, and looked downcast.
+
+This had the desired effect, for as they walked to the house Walter
+Carey said in an undertone to Margaret:
+
+“I suppose he was in love with your sister, Mrs. Brandon. I pity him.
+It must have been bad to him to see her married. I wonder why she would
+not have him?”
+
+Margaret made no reply, but thought with amusement how Willoughby had
+improved his position with those few words. He would now be regarded
+as the unsuccessful lover of Marianne, who would appear to have turned
+from the young admirer and married the rich, middle-aged suitor.
+Willoughby was to be pitied, but not to be blamed, Marianne to be
+wondered at, but not to be pitied. Perhaps both gained something by
+this re-arrangement of the facts.
+
+They had now reached the house, and Margaret hoped to be in time to
+witness the meeting between Elinor and Willoughby. She was not to be
+disappointed. Lady Carey and Elinor were still upstairs when the rest
+of the party assembled in the drawing-room before dinner. Lady Carey
+appeared, greeted Willoughby as the last-come guest, and then made her
+stout, comfortable way to Sir John Middleton, who was to tell her how
+everything had gone at the rehearsal and all about the ducks and geese
+at Barton Park, and the prospects of a good fruit harvest--for Lady
+Carey was a real country dame, and a much better pair to Sir John than
+his more elegant lady-wife, at least in Margaret’s opinion. But then
+Sir Francis Carey, a fine scholarly gentleman, would have found Lady
+Middleton very fatiguing, so the re-arrangement of these pairs was
+abandoned by Margaret, and she continued to watch the door for Elinor.
+
+She came. At sight of Willoughby her complexion changed. He came
+forward eagerly smiling, and with outstretched hand. She bowed
+decisively, managed to ignore the hand, and turned to Isabella Carey
+with some question about the rehearsal. Willoughby hesitated. Margaret
+saw him falter, but imagined him to be taking courage. With resolution
+he joined the group, and himself entered into conversation with Miss
+Carey, including Elinor in his remarks with courtesy and friendliness.
+He held her there with his attentions, would not allow her to escape
+him, and for a few minutes it appeared to all who cared to take note
+of it that Mr. Willoughby and Mrs. Ferrars were on terms of the
+friendliest acquaintance.
+
+Elinor was determined to get away, and move away she did, but not till
+his purpose was accomplished, and Margaret was left in admiration
+of his ready wit and charming effrontery. She saw that her sister’s
+resentment was great. It was but natural that Elinor, who knew so
+much of the suffering Willoughby had caused to Marianne, should feel
+strongly in condemnation of this easy assumption of friendliness.
+
+Margaret felt that she herself judged the case more correctly. She felt
+she knew more of his real feeling, his real regret, and she could not
+be blind to the fact that the line he was taking was really the one to
+do most honour to Marianne’s situation. If it pleased him to pose as
+the unfortunate admirer it was an indulgence which need not be denied
+him except in the interest of strict veracity, for, while it might
+seem that he gained somewhat in the eyes of the world in being thought
+unlucky rather than faithless, Marianne gained more in being supposed
+fickle rather than unfortunate. For it is well known that while to be
+crossed in love is highly honourable to a gentleman, in a lady it is
+correspondingly disgraceful; and while a change of heart is much to be
+deplored in a masculine lover, for a female to hesitate between two,
+and finally make her choice, enhances not only her own value but that
+of both her admirers; so that Colonel Brandon might be supposed to be a
+gainer by Willoughby’s affectation of love-lornity; and would doubtless
+be much gratified by the circumstances if it could be supposed that he
+would think anything at all about it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+The party for dinner was to have consisted of fifteen persons,
+including the little girls and their governess. Lady Carey, who
+combined strict views on the bringing up of children with the greatest
+latitude and kindness in carrying them out, had arranged that the
+school-room party should sit at a side-table, but partake of all the
+good things provided for their betters. Willoughby’s arrival threw the
+numbers out and, in order to avoid the evil of sitting down thirteen at
+the larger table, it was necessary that some one else should be placed
+at the inferior one, and Lady Carey had decided that it should be Henry
+Whitaker, who was still at Westminster, and therefore grouped in her
+mind with the children.
+
+The choice could not have fallen on anyone who would feel the indignity
+more. He stood beside his chair, red and glowering, unwilling to take
+the place one moment before it was necessary. The disgrace was happily
+averted. The two little girls clamorously begged that Mr. Atherton
+might be sent to their table and, as he added his entreaties, Lady
+Carey yielded to their wishes. Margaret breathed again for Henry, and
+as he took the place intended for Mr. Atherton between their hostess
+and herself she was able to begin the process of soothing his ruffled
+feelings by the sweetness of her welcoming smile.
+
+It was not to be expected that Henry could have much to say to Lady
+Carey. The affront was too recent, and his resentment too just. It
+was not until the first course had been removed and the corner dishes
+placed for the second that he could have replied without constraint
+even to her inquiries for his mother. Margaret’s attention, as he told
+her of the great doings at Westminster at the Grease, and the wild
+scenes in Great School that always ensued, had done him a world of
+good, and, though it might be that Lady Carey would never be entirely
+forgiven, he found he could now speak to her in an ordinary tone and
+believe her to be a very good sort of woman in her way.
+
+Walter Carey, who sat on Margaret’s other side, was far from being
+pleased to find her attention turned from him, but, in addition to
+his habitual good-nature, he had the assistance of knowing himself
+to be the superior of Henry in so many particulars that he felt he
+could afford to him the indulgence of Margaret’s kindness. He himself
+was obliged to turn to Mary Whitaker, a plain girl, but, he found,
+very agreeable. So often it may be noticed by those whose powers of
+observation are not blurred by partiality that the absence of other
+attractions is accompanied by a wish to please, and some knowledge of
+how to do it, so that those who are so justly scorned for their lack of
+beauty, by their fairer sisters, achieve a high degree of popularity
+with the other sex.
+
+Mary Whitaker was generally liked and always content with such notice
+as fell to her share. She felt no resentment when Walter took the
+opportunity of the dishes being changed to engage Margaret’s attention,
+even though she herself was cut short in the middle of a sentence, and,
+finding Mrs. Ferrars at liberty, was pleased to find herself kindly
+addressed and offered some advice and help in the arrangement of her
+dress as Second Brother.
+
+Sir Francis had enjoyed his talk with Elinor. Her cultivated mind and
+elegant beauty exactly suited his taste, and he eyed Miss Steele, who
+sat on his left, with a sidelong glance that spoke his fear that he
+was now to be less happily entertained. Miss Steele was in very poor
+spirits. She was sat down next to Sir Francis, who had not so much
+as looked at her, and on the other side was Penelope Carey, who had
+no eyes for anyone but Mr. Willoughby, and who seemed a stupid sort
+of girl even if she had tried to make herself agreeable. When Sir
+Francis had learnt that Miss Steele had lived at Plymouth all her life,
+and that her younger sister was well married, but that she herself
+could not make up her mind, he found himself at a loss for a topic
+of conversation, and, on being applied to by Elinor for information
+as to the origin of Comus, he gladly devoted himself to the task of
+enlightening the minds of Mary Whitaker and Mrs. Ferrars on the subject
+of the influence of the Elizabethans on literature of a later date.
+
+Willoughby had been exerting his powers of conversation between
+Isabella and Penelope Carey, who had often wished to know more of him
+in the days when Marianne had absorbed his attention, and by the end
+of dinner they were both quite convinced that whatever the trouble had
+been, whatever it was that had broken the engagement, it must have
+been the fault of Mrs. Brandon, and not of the charming gentleman who
+entertained them. They wondered that his wife were not more seen with
+him. They feared he was neglected by her, and remembered all they had
+heard of her ill-temper and sickliness.
+
+Isabella’s attention was claimed from time to time by Sir John, who
+must have some young lady to tease about her dearest affections, and
+who spent a very agreeable hour dividing his attentions between Lady
+Carey, who was a very knowledgable woman indeed, and Isabella, who was
+a very handsome one.
+
+The party at the smaller table was as noisy as any. Mr. Atherton had
+claimed that Miss Fairfield was to have a holiday and he would be
+deputy governess, with the lady as his eldest and show pupil, and the
+little girls had been delighted to have their knuckles rapped and their
+elbows poked in, and to be told how to hold their forks all wrong, and
+which side of their mouths they should use for drinking.
+
+The laughter became so uproarious that Sir Francis’s eyebrows went up
+into his grey hair, and Lady Carey had to administer some more serious
+admonitions. Margaret thought with surprise of how wearisome this man
+could be, and made the well-worn discovery that if people are to be
+agreeable they need but be natural. Mr. Atherton’s good-nature was
+superior to his intelligence, and he could make himself liked where he
+did not much wish to impress.
+
+Dinner was over at last, and the ladies were to spend the hours before
+tea in rest and chat in the drawing-room, admiring each other’s work,
+for which they cared nothing, playing each other’s songs, which they
+did very indifferently, and preventing each other from indulging in the
+quiet doze which would have been so welcome to most after the tiring
+morning and excellent dinner. Lady Carey alone was fortunate in having
+matters requiring her attention, and which, declining all assistance,
+she executed in great comfort with her eyes closed on the couch in her
+bed-chamber.
+
+The party in the drawing-room finally strolled out on to the lawn,
+where they were joined by the gentlemen, who had been watching a
+desultory game of billiards between Walter and Willoughby. Henry felt
+that the insult of the dining-room had been almost wiped out when Sir
+Francis had invited him to join the party in the billiard-room.
+
+The children were taken off to the school-room by their governess.
+Their share of amusement was over for the day, as they were not to
+appear at the ball. If they felt downcast at being excluded from the
+fun, they could console themselves by thinking that, in a few years
+time, they would be as pretty as Miss Dashwood, and talk as fast as
+Miss Steele, and wear clothes as fine as their sisters.
+
+Miss Fairfield had no such consolation. For a young woman of
+twenty-three to be in the school-room while a ball is in progress in
+the drawing-room is no happy fate; and the time to which the children
+looked forward would only be to her the occasion of a removal to
+another house, where she might be treated with less consideration, and
+at a time when she could not but be losing the attractions of face
+and figure which seemed so wasted now. She actually was as pretty as
+Margaret, and could have found as many things to say as Miss Steele,
+and have looked fully as well in fine clothes as the two Miss Careys.
+Her lot, however, was a different one, and she took the cover from her
+harp in order to practise the music of the other girls’ songs, with the
+wish at least to be contented in that she had a share, though a small
+one, in the performance which was the centre of every one’s thoughts.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Elinor seated herself on a bench under a tree with Mary Whitaker, who
+was seeking her society with the enthusiasm of the very young for an
+elder whose notice is coveted. Elinor enjoyed the admiration, and could
+gratify her sense of right by leading the conversation on lines likely
+to be helpful in the development of Mary’s mind. It was not in Elinor’s
+nature to enjoy anything fully unless she could perceive in it some
+vestige of a duty; here duty and pleasure were combined.
+
+The rest of the party were pacing up and down the avenue behind them
+in twos and threes, and scraps of their conversation were wafted to
+Elinor’s ears and mingled with Mary’s artless admiration in her mind.
+
+“A capital fellow, Willoughby! He has got a dull little wife with a
+fortune. I suppose one makes up for the other, but in my opinion he was
+better off without either. When you marry, Miss Isabella, take care you
+get a fine young man, and a little fortune too, and ask me over to
+dance at your wedding. An old fellow like me----”
+
+Sir John’s voice grew fainter, and Elinor’s attention was recalled by
+the eager questioning of Mary as to the relative merits of Gainsborough
+and Sir Thomas Lawrence’s portraits, a subject on which Elinor’s
+opinion must be conclusive, as she drew very pretty pencil sketches
+herself and had been to London. Another pair was approaching.
+
+“There’s a table up School with all sorts of fellow’s names cut on
+it--deep too. I mean to cut mine before I leave if I get a chance. I
+found my grandfather’s name, and two of my uncles’. Did you cut your
+name anywhere at Canterbury, Mr. Atherton----?”
+
+“That’s Harry,” said Mary. “He is always talking about Westminster. I
+do think it is rather hard that he should go to London twice a year
+and I, who am older, have never been there. Do not you think so, Mrs.
+Ferrars? He says I should not like to be at Westminster at all, but I
+think it must be better than to be always in the country. Do not you
+think so, Mrs. Ferrars?”
+
+Miss Steele’s voice could now be heard from far away, and her
+complaints made Elinor smile, and Mary redden with vexation on her
+behalf.
+
+“My sister, Lucy, married Mr. Robert Ferrars, so Mrs. Ferrars and me
+are almost sisters; but then she is so cold and distant I do not like
+to claim it, and indeed I am not sure that Lucy would wish it, for the
+family thought it a very bad match for Mr. Edward, and they all look
+down on his wife, so of course Lucy does too, as she is one of them.
+Mrs. Ferrars, his mother, cannot forgive Mr. Edward for making the
+marriage; for all that she is so fond of Lucy, so it’s not that she
+is unkind and proud. But then Lucy has a way with her and I am sure
+will take any trouble to get herself liked, and it’s that makes the
+difference, Miss Penelope, you may be sure; for I always will say Lucy
+is very nice when she isn’t being cross, and I miss her very much, for
+she always knew what suited me better than I do myself. Sisters are----”
+
+Neither Elinor nor Mary wished to hear more, and were satisfied that
+the misdeeds of sisters should be lamented out of ear-shot. Mary’s
+questions began again, and Elinor was delighting in talking of her
+favourite painters when she stopped in surprise on hearing the voices
+of the next party.
+
+Willoughby, Margaret and Walter Carey were approaching. She could hear
+Willoughby’s pleasant tones recounting some theatrical experience of
+his own, Walter’s eager voice questioning him, submitting to his
+judgment, consulting him, and Margaret’s low laughter and interested
+comments. Every one making much of Willoughby, reinstating him,
+admiring him! Elinor remembered that she herself had not repulsed him
+on the night of Marianne’s illness; but then he had been anxious,
+distraught, miserable. Common humanity demanded that she should bear
+with him! Now, when he was at ease, self-satisfied, arrogant, it was
+not to be endured that Margaret should help him in maintaining this
+good opinion of himself.
+
+The conversation had begun at the other end of the avenue by Willoughby
+taking Walter’s arm as he strolled with Margaret under the trees.
+
+“I hear you have had a friend of mine in the neighbourhood--a naval
+officer--Commander Pennington. Did you see him, Carey?”
+
+Walter denied all knowledge of Commander Pennington, and Margaret did
+not claim any.
+
+“He was at Grice’s farm for about a week, and I was at Allenham all the
+while, which makes it all the more annoying. However, I hear he left
+word with Mrs. Grice that he would be back in October at the latest; so
+I shall contrive to be here then, if I can get Mrs. Smith to think she
+cannot do without me.”
+
+“How do you know him?” asked Walter, to Margaret’s relief. She feared
+she might put the question herself if Walter failed in curiosity.
+
+“I met him in London playing cards at my club first, and sometimes
+since, and once at Lord Courtland’s private theatre. We were not
+acting, either of us. Merely members of the audience, and prodigiously
+bored at that. They did ‘Five Hours at Brighton,’ and it would not have
+surprised me to hear that it was ten times as long. Pennington and I
+got into a quiet corner where we could sit down and talk of something
+else. Before all things private theatricals should not be too long!
+Your choice of a play is a capital one, Carey. Indeed you are much to
+be congratulated on play and players.”
+
+From thence the conversation had drifted on to the point when Elinor
+could hear them talking and laughing, and for the moment forgot
+Mary Whitaker and her thirst for improvement in her anger against
+Willoughby, and his desire for reconcilement.
+
+Fortunately a move indoors for tea broke up the various parties, and
+after tea no time could be wasted in talking when there was all the
+business of dressing for the ball to be attended to. Mary and Henry
+Whitaker were to stay the night, and their rooms were available as
+dressing-rooms for the rest of the party, the ladies running in
+and out of Mary’s room and that of the Miss Careys for ribbons and
+hair-pins, shoe-ties and perfume; while the gentlemen brushed and
+combed, talked and laughed in Henry’s room as much as in Walter’s, and
+made him very happy in playing host to all these grown-up males to the
+extent at least of lending them his brushes and having their coats laid
+on his bed.
+
+Downstairs there was consternation. The musicians had not arrived.
+There was to be a fiddle and a cornet, and neither was come. Lady
+Carey’s desperation was pitiable. Her round, happy face was ill-suited
+to such looks of woe, and Sir Francis, meeting her on the stairs, was
+disturbed out of his usual detachment. He was made acquainted with
+the cause of her distress, and, with that spark of genius in mundane
+affairs which is sometimes shown by those who spend their lives aloof
+from them, he suggested that Miss Fairfield could play very nicely and
+no doubt knew some pretty dance music.
+
+Lady Carey’s relief was in proportion to her former despair. She
+hurried along to the school-room door with the speed of one of her own
+children, and there found Miss Fairfield practising her harp all alone.
+A few minutes sufficed to make known to her the trouble she was called
+upon to allay, and being, as Miss Penelope had said, a very good
+sort of girl, she was ready to put on her prettiest gown and take her
+subordinate but all-important part in the enjoyment of the evening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+The ball was to begin and end early. The dancers came from distances of
+from three to four miles, and the journey home, though in moonlight,
+must be regarded. There were to be eight or ten couples. Five more
+ladies were expected and three more gentlemen. It was feared that Sir
+Francis would not dance, so unless the ladies could be persuaded to
+be so good as to stand up together there would only be a set of eight
+couples.
+
+Willoughby, in pursuance of his method of daring all, applied to Elinor
+for the honour of her hand for the first two dances. He fully deserved
+the reply he received, that Mary Whitaker was to be her partner.
+Mary, who had not heard of this arrangement before, was fortunately
+disengaged and, as she had no hope of being asked at first by Walter
+Carey, was quite ready to be one of the ladies who were applauded for
+their good-nature.
+
+Willoughby next made application to Margaret, who accepted. Neither
+Walter nor Henry had been quick enough, and were obliged to content
+themselves with her promise for later in the evening.
+
+Willoughby did not again approach Mrs. Ferrars. He was satisfied at
+opening the ball with the sought-after Miss Margaret Dashwood, and
+after that devoted himself for the rest of the evening to the Miss
+Careys and the more attractive of their friends.
+
+Margaret found much to enjoy in the first two dances. Willoughby was an
+accomplished dancer, and she was spared all the anxiety and shame which
+an indifferent partner can inflict, and which she had to endure with
+Walter Carey, who, though anxious to excel, was too fond of talking to
+attend to the dancing, and too fond of dancing to attend to the music.
+It was a lamentable performance, and Margaret looked forward with dread
+to the next two dances, which had been claimed by Henry Whitaker.
+
+It might be argued that, if we could go through life dreading enough
+things, we should never have a moment of real distress, so uniformly is
+it the case that things dreaded turn out better than could be hoped.
+Henry was a capital dancer, attending to his business with a steady
+gravity, and not to be turned from the right path by any mistakes that
+others, who should have known better, might make.
+
+There was now a pause in the evening’s gaiety, and a general move to
+the dining-room where supper was laid. Margaret found herself placed
+at table by Mr. Atherton, who having remarked on the excellence of
+the floor, the decorations and the supper, went on to comment on the
+excellence of the music.
+
+“Miss Fairfield is a very fine performer. Do you not think it
+remarkable, Miss Margaret, that she does not tire of playing all these
+country-dances?”
+
+“Perhaps she is tired,” said Margaret. “It seems hard that she should
+play for us to dance. I might play the next after supper I think;
+but that would be useless unless she got a partner, and with so many
+ladies---- What do you say, Mr. Atherton, will you engage her to dance
+with you if I offer to play?”
+
+Mr. Atherton agreed at once.
+
+“That is very good of you,” she said. “When we are again in the
+drawing-room I will ask her to let me take her place at the instrument,
+and do you be on the watch, and come up at once when you see her
+prepared to dance. She must not know that we have spoken of it.”
+
+Mr. Atherton professed himself very happy, and the plan so neatly
+arranged was carried out to perfection. Miss Fairfield danced as
+well as she played, and Mr. Atherton beamed with good-nature and
+satisfaction with his lady and himself.
+
+Margaret’s last partner was an unexpected one. Sir Francis had been
+watching the dancers from the doorway with an air of amused toleration.
+He now approached her, professing himself able to get through Sir
+Roger de Coverley if carefully instructed, and offered himself for her
+tuition. She felt that it was to Elinor that the compliment was due,
+and was astounded at its being made to herself. She found him more _au
+fait_ with the dance than he had professed. His bows were more courtly,
+his style of dancing more deliberate than was customary, but he made no
+mistakes and required no reminding. Walter Carey, who was dancing with
+Mary Whitaker, eyed his father from time to time with an affectionate
+smile, but Margaret was unable to determine whether he was amused or
+pleased with the elder man’s activity.
+
+Elinor had danced only with Mary, Sir John and Mr. Atherton. She had
+sat down after supper, holding a desultory conversation with Lady
+Carey, who was sick to death of all of them, and longing for the first
+carriage to be announced. Elinor herself was too tired to talk, and
+they sat together, thankful for each other’s intermittent silence.
+
+Sir John’s manservant at length brought the carriage to the door, and
+the hour of release had struck. Mr. Atherton was to stay the night
+with the vicar of Newton, and be driven over to Barton by the Careys
+in time for the dress-rehearsal on Wednesday. This had the result of
+leaving an inside seat in the carriage for Sir John, which proved to
+be an advantage for Elinor also. Hardly had they turned out of the
+drive gates before Sir John was asleep, and though Miss Steele would
+have chattered all the way home if she had been allowed, Elinor forbade
+all talking lest Sir John’s slumbers should be disturbed. Whether
+solicitude for him were her only object, or whether she would have
+liked quiet herself, she was only partially successful, but Miss Steele
+did not talk above half the time, and hardly ever spoke or laughed
+really loud.
+
+When Elinor and Margaret were put down at the gate of Barton Cottage
+and walked up the little path to the door, it seemed to both that they
+had been away something more like a week than a day. Their mother was
+awaiting them with inquiries as to their enjoyment and offers of soup
+or hot wine and water. The questions must be put aside until they
+themselves knew whether they had enjoyed the day. For the moment they
+only knew that they were exceedingly tired; but the hot wine was a
+welcome suggestion. Margaret was sufficiently restored by it to give
+her mother some account of the amusements of the day, but Elinor did
+not find that she would be able to do justice to her vexation with
+Margaret for her encouragement of Willoughby until she had had the
+further refreshment of a night’s sleep.
+
+No one, not even Lady Carey nor any of her household, was more glad
+than Elinor of the quiet comfort of her pillows. The dance music ceased
+at last to plague her brain, and she forgot her vexation and weariness
+in dreams of home and of young Master Ferrars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+“I was very much surprised yesterday, mamma,” began Mrs. Ferrars,
+when she and her mother met next morning at the breakfast table. “Mr.
+Willoughby was at Newton, and seemed to wish to renew our acquaintance.
+He has strange ideas of decorum. I was vexed that Margaret danced with
+him. In my opinion we should have nothing to say to him.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood immediately asked to be made acquainted with all that had
+happened. Elinor’s account was not too partial either to Willoughby or
+Margaret, but it was as accurate as a statement of the sort usually
+is, when a good deal more is felt than can be wisely expressed. Mrs.
+Dashwood’s opinion was that there could be no help for it. They must
+admit Mr. Willoughby to their acquaintance or be for ever plagued by
+meeting him and being under the necessity of ignoring him. Both were
+evils, but Mrs. Dashwood had no difficulty in deciding on the least.
+They would meet him as an acquaintance. No doubt it would be as well to
+discourage Margaret from dancing or talking with him, and if possible
+they would give him the idea that he was but tolerated as being
+unworthy of serious resentment.
+
+“After all,” she said, “he has done no harm to anyone but himself.”
+
+Elinor could not avoid a smile. Her recollections of Marianne’s agony
+of mind, and her mother’s misery at the time, were at variance with
+the present statement, but she could only envy and try to emulate such
+happy forgetfulness. In fact, Mrs. Dashwood was rather looking forward
+to meeting Mr. Willoughby again. There was something attractive in
+the thought that he was still attached to her daughter; it gave her
+an interest in him which she had never expected to feel again, and,
+though she could not think it right, she found it lessened rather than
+increased her blame of him. There could be no doubt that he would be
+present at the theatricals on Thursday.
+
+The dress-rehearsal was to be on Wednesday afternoon, and all were glad
+of a day’s interval for rest and ordinary occupations. All Tuesday
+Margaret felt an increasing desire to lie down, but encouraged herself
+to her usual activities, walked with Elinor, talked with her mother,
+and succeeded in concealing the fact of her weariness and malaise. The
+afternoon of Wednesday was damp and cold. The dress-rehearsal was
+achieved, as they so often are, in a series of pauses and rushes. Some
+people were not ready for their cues, and others came on too soon. The
+dresses needed alteration and the stage readjustment. It was over at
+last, and Margaret arrived home with wet feet and an aching head.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood at once recommended bed, and her advice was thankfully
+accepted. It was soon clear to Elinor, and later to her mother, that
+Margaret was quite unfit to take her part on the morrow, and word to
+that effect was hastily sent to the Park.
+
+Thomas was the messenger of woe. The Careys were all staying the night
+at the Park, and it was to Walter as stage-manager that the note was
+addressed, and by him read aloud to Sir John and Mr. Atherton in the
+library.
+
+It was the misfortune to the play that chiefly affected Sir John, but
+Walter had a deeper concern in Margaret’s illness. He was very young,
+but it has not been discovered that youth is any bar to falling in
+love, though it is often found to be an obstacle to marriage. He was
+for giving the play up altogether, and at once; or possibly postponing
+it, he added, when Sir John’s crestfallen look suggested the amendment.
+
+Mr. Atherton offered a suggestion of greater efficacy in removing the
+gloom from Sir John’s good-natured face.
+
+“Miss Fairfield knows the song,” he said, “and has been present at
+every rehearsal. She would do the part very well or I am no judge of an
+actor.”
+
+All was well for Sir John. No thought of the suffering Margaret could
+be allowed to cloud his happiness. He carried the note into the
+drawing-room with an expression which bore no relation to his opening
+words.
+
+“Here’s bad news,” he began. “Miss Margaret ill in bed; but we do
+not need to give up our play, for Miss Fairfield can take the part.
+That is, if she will be so good,” looking round the room for her.
+“She can do it just as well, Atherton says, and she is just about
+Miss Margaret’s size, so can wear the dress. I suppose she is in the
+school-room with the children. Let us go and tell her she is to be
+Sabrina.”
+
+Lady Middleton, however, insisted that she should first understand the
+matter, and then in a more formal manner advise Miss Fairfield of the
+happiness in store for her. She went herself, and having told Miss
+Fairfield of the misfortune begged her to be so kind as to assist them
+in their difficulty. For all the cold formality of her manner, the
+impression received was not different in essentials from that which
+Sir John would have given if he had had his way, and gone to tell her
+she “was to be Sabrina.” Miss Fairfield, however, though well aware
+that she could not refuse, had not for that reason any wish to do so.
+She had not the least disinclination to oblige, and would much enjoy
+taking the part, and wearing the dress, and very soon was happily
+planning the arrangement of her “amber dropping hair.”
+
+Walter was soon on his way to the Cottage to inquire for Margaret, and
+to tell them how the difficulty was to be met. He found Mrs. Ferrars
+alone, as Mrs. Dashwood was in attendance on Margaret. He was very
+unhappy, and said so. Elinor remembered the visit of another anxious
+young man when Marianne was ill, and compared the two to the advantage
+of the one before her. Willoughby, ashamed and maddened by the sense
+of his unworthy conduct, dependent on his wife, and disgraced in many
+quarters. Walter, young, ardent, with only boyhood behind him, and
+happy prospects before, well liked, and the only son of a rich baronet.
+He made no attempt to hide his concern for Margaret, and the message
+with which he was charged, that Miss Fairfield would take the part,
+was only valuable to him as a possible alleviation to her mind. She
+must not trouble about the play. She must not trouble about anything.
+It would all be well arranged. All she had to do was to get well as
+quickly as was possible.
+
+Elinor promised him that her sister should have every attention from
+her mother and herself, and at last he went away with something less of
+anxiety in his mind.
+
+Margaret was feeling very ill. She had been exerting herself beyond her
+strength for some weeks, constantly keeping her mind at work to prevent
+herself from thinking, and her body active to induce sleep at night.
+The long and exciting day on Monday had brought on a feverish attack,
+which was increased by the wet and discomfort of the rehearsal at the
+Park. Her voice had gone, her head ached, and she could not rest,
+although in bed. She had a wretched night of fitful dreams and fancies,
+but was better in the morning, and ready to urge her mother and Elinor
+to go to the Park in the afternoon to see the play.
+
+Elinor had seen so much of it that she resolutely declined, but Mrs.
+Dashwood, with her lighter spirit, was not unwilling. She declared at
+first affectionately that she could not leave her Margaret when she
+was ill, but her Margaret protested that she very much wished to hear
+about the play, and that no one would give so good an account of it
+as her mother, and that she would do very well with Elinor at home.
+She charged her mother with many special points on which she was to be
+observant--to look out for the eccentricities of Miss Steele’s dress,
+which Margaret had not attempted to restrain, to notice if the Brothers
+handled their swords well, if the children in the rout kept their
+stockings up, and whether the attendant Spirit forgot his words.
+
+The morning passed quietly. The apothecary came and went, having
+ordered that she was on no account to leave her bed till all symptoms
+of fever had subsided. Margaret was not unwilling to rest her tired
+body. Her brain was still too feverish to think for long coherently,
+and she spent the day dozing and waking, tired and ill, but not unhappy.
+
+A basket of fruit and flowers was brought from the Park by Walter
+with a particular hope embalmed in a formal little note from Lady
+Middleton that Miss Margaret went on well, and that Mrs. Dashwood and
+Mrs. Ferrars would be able to leave their patient in the afternoon and
+honour them at the Park.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood would only consent to leave her daughter for the hour or
+so to be occupied by the play. The day was fine and she would walk
+up to the Park and walk back, without being included in those lesser
+festivities of reception and refreshment which had inevitably gathered
+round the performance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Willoughby had no difficulty in obtaining from Mrs. Grice the
+whereabouts of his “friend,” Richard Pennington. Consequently, when the
+letter-bag was opened on board the “Wren,” among other correspondence
+the following letter engaged the attention of the Commander:
+
+                                           ALLENHAM COURT,
+                                                  _August 5th, 1813_.
+
+  DEAR PENNINGTON,
+
+  Imagine my chagrin on hearing you had been in my neighbourhood in
+  April. My wife and I were staying at Allenham at the very time you
+  were at Grice’s farm. A most annoying circumstance that I did not
+  know you were there! I am here again, this time alone, for which I
+  am duly grateful. Mrs. Smith has been unwell and wished to see me. I
+  hear that you expect to be in England in October. Do, my dear friend,
+  like a good fellow, come to me at Combe Magna. To be eternally shut
+  up with one woman is more than any reasonable man can stand, and,
+  although I get what society I can, none is more desired than yours.
+  I cannot come here again unless I am summoned by the all-powerful
+  Mrs. Smith. You know how she can keep me on a string. I have
+  therefore no certainty of seeing you unless you will be compassionate.
+
+  Here nothing is thought of but a play in Sir John Middleton’s garden.
+  Do you remember how we quizzed “Five Hundred Hours at Brighton”? This
+  is just such another. Comus booming and mouthing, the Lady piping and
+  squealing, and two girls standing about with their hands on their
+  hips and calling each other “Brother.” And then the rout. Ye gods!
+  The rout! Sir John in purple, a middle-aged spinster in red, and
+  about ten children in home-made masks. True it was “unruly,” and so
+  far in accordance with the author’s intentions. The only relief was
+  Sabrina, a very pretty young person indeed with plenty of fair hair
+  and a good singing voice. The part was taken by her at the last,
+  as Miss Margaret Dashwood was taken very ill the day before. Young
+  Walter Carey believes her to be dying, and is frantic with grief and
+  anxiety. A touching spectacle! If she dies he will have to begin
+  all over again with some one else, as he is the only son and the
+  baronetcy must be carried on. Margaret is a sweet girl, though not
+  the equal of her sister, Mrs. Brandon, but the gods defend me from
+  the eldest sister, Mrs. Ferrars! How she came to be married no one
+  knows! Was anyone ever better cut out to be an acid spinster? She
+  blesses the home of the Reverend Edward Ferrars, who can hardly speak
+  above a whisper and does not know one end of a gun from the other.
+  The mother is an amiable woman enough.
+
+  Do, my dear Pennington, take pity on me and come and spend a week
+  with me in the autumn, shooting my covers. I shall depend on your
+  giving me your society. Till then I shall be prodigiously bored.
+
+                                          Your most attached
+                                                JOHN WILLOUGHBY.
+
+Such was the account of the doings at Barton that travelled out to
+the Baltic, and was taken on board the “Wren.” In the same letter-bag
+came out the orders from the Admiralty recalling the sloop of war.
+The “Wren” was to proceed to Portsmouth, where the crew would be
+discharged. Richard Pennington’s gravity of demeanour was the
+subject of comment among the men. They would be glad to get on shore
+themselves, and see their homes and wives again, but the Commander
+looked as if the order for recall was bad news.
+
+The theatricals met with more general approval than would be supposed
+from Willoughby’s account: but as with him, so with all, it was Miss
+Fairfield’s performance that was most admired. A very pretty girl and a
+stranger (for who had noticed the Careys’ governess?) was bound to be
+an object of interest in a neighbourhood where strangers were rare and
+beauty not common.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood had made a point of speaking to her at once, and thanking
+her for her kindness in taking her daughter’s place, and, when she
+left to return to Margaret, others followed, asking Lady Middleton for
+the introduction, or introducing themselves, until an admiring cluster
+gathered round the place on the lawn where Sabrina stood in her filmy
+draperies. All of which was more gratifying to Miss Fairfield than to
+the other young ladies, who had all done their best, and had learned
+very much longer parts. But rewards are most unequally distributed
+in this world, and there could be no question that, whoever deserved
+recognition, it was chiefly to the attendant Spirit, whose boy’s voice
+had happened to be delightful in the summoning song, and to “Sabrina
+fair” herself, who had taken no great pains with her part, that it was
+given.
+
+There was to be an informal ball at the Park in the evening. Sir
+Francis and Lady Carey took their little girls home, but kindly left
+Miss Fairfield to enjoy the dancing. However humdrum a life she might
+look forward to on the morrow, the afternoon and evening of this day
+were all that could be desired.
+
+Mrs. Jennings had planned to walk down to the Cottage early in the
+morning after the play to inquire for Miss Margaret and to tell her all
+about it, but Margaret’s indisposition increased, and a week had passed
+before she could sit up in her room and take any interest in affairs
+outside it.
+
+Elinor and her mother nursed her with the greatest affection and
+concern. Every day a messenger came from the Park bringing fruit,
+flowers and inquiries, and every day Walter Carey rode over from Newton
+for the same purpose. Elinor, though she did not always remember to
+give Margaret messages from Mrs. Jennings and Sir John, never failed
+to inform her of Walter’s visits, and it was not long before Margaret
+became aware that her sister had formed plans and hopes for her, which
+were to terminate in her becoming the future Lady Carey of Newton Hall.
+
+She was gradually becoming stronger, but was not considered well
+enough to read, or to bear anyone reading aloud to her. Her mind was
+consequently unoccupied, and all the hopes and fears and longings she
+had hardly kept at bay now overwhelmed her.
+
+Compared with Walter, of whom so much was known, how little she knew of
+this man who occupied her thoughts. She had seen him only four times,
+and hardly as many hours had been spent in his society. He came of
+“low people,” said Sir John. Walter was the only son of a baronet. His
+profession was precarious and arduous. Walter’s position was one of
+ease, and would be one of wealth. “The hardships of a naval officer’s
+wife,” said Mrs. Palmer. The beauty and comfort of Newton Hall again
+came to her mind. “No stability of character,” Elinor had said; but
+what did she or Mamma or anyone else know about that? “I will come
+back. You will wait,” he had said--and with that she saw again his
+grave face, and, try as she might, she could not displace it with
+Walter’s good-humoured smile. She must see him again before she could
+decide. If he disappointed her--were not what she remembered--she might
+turn to Walter; but, at the thought, she felt again the old hope and
+fear and longing with which her thoughts began. Over and over again,
+round and round with the persistence of a feverish brain, and the
+monotony of a tired one, until she imagined she would be glad if she
+could think that she need never see either of these men again as long
+as she lived.
+
+A week had passed in restless questionings and decisions. She was
+sitting in her room and hoping that the long-deferred call from Mrs.
+Jennings would be deferred still longer when she heard that lady’s
+voice in the hall. Her mother was out walking, and her sister was in
+charge. Mrs. Jennings had endeared herself to Elinor in past days, and
+was always sure of more indulgence from her than from others of the
+family, and Margaret had little doubt that the visitor would be brought
+upstairs before long.
+
+Soon she could hear snatches of their conversation as they ascended the
+staircase.
+
+“You could have knocked me down with a feather, Mrs. Ferrars. Indeed,
+I can hardly believe it yet. Lady Middleton, too, is surprised beyond
+measure. What your sister will say I do not know! It is the sort of
+thing that could not have been foreseen, nor prevented, or we would all
+have acted very differently. She should never have had your sister’s
+part at all in my opinion.”
+
+The door opened, and Mrs. Jennings came in, a look of such extreme
+melancholy on her round, rosy face as made it exceedingly difficult
+for Margaret to avoid laughing at so incongruous an expression. It
+was evident, however, that something real, or at least real to her
+visitor, was causing the trouble, and Margaret quickly assumed a look
+of sympathy as she held out her hand.
+
+It was taken in both of Mrs. Jennings, and almost in tears she cried:
+
+“Oh, my poor dear! Do not you be sorry for me, my love! Be sorry for
+yourself! I can hardly bear to tell you, after all the teasings and
+jokings I have done, but your beau is to marry some one else, and how
+he can choose so beneath him when he might have had you is more than I
+can understand.”
+
+Margaret’s look of bewilderment brought her sister to her help.
+
+“Mrs. Jennings has come to tell us of Mr. Atherton’s engagement,”
+Elinor said quickly. “A source of congratulations to us all, dear Mrs.
+Jennings, believe me. The vicarage needs a mistress and Miss Fairfield
+will be a most agreeable neighbour to my mother and sister when she
+becomes Mrs. Atherton.”
+
+The relief sent the blood to Margaret’s cheeks and the smile to her
+lips. Mrs. Jennings could not now imagine her to be otherwise than
+pleasantly affected by the news, and, as soon as this was understood
+and believed, the story could be unfolded with all the enjoyment proper
+to the recital.
+
+“It seems he first noticed her at the picnic, so I say it is another
+marriage to the credit of Barton Park, for you must have seen, my
+dears, that Sir John is for ever planning to bring young people
+together, and let them have a chance to make it up between themselves.
+Well, then, it all began at the picnic, and then it went on at the
+rehearsals. There they were behind the same bush all the time, every
+rehearsal, and she so sweet and willing, and ready to do every one’s
+bidding. Then off you all went to Newton, and it seems he passed some
+of the day with her and the children, and you may be sure it was her he
+was thinking of and not the children. I hope they may have some little
+ones of their own, for I am sure they both know how to manage them,
+which is more than my daughter Middleton does--but it’s early days to
+think of that. Then, in the evening he schemed to get a dance with her
+when she was playing for the ball. He says you helped him there and
+indeed he is very grateful to all who have brought them together. And
+over head and ears in love he is--I will say that for him--and it is
+to his credit too, for she hasn’t a penny piece, but he goes on about
+her as if she had a hundred thousand pounds. All the time I thought him
+wanting to marry you; I never thought him such a pretty-behaved fellow
+as he is, though my daughter Middleton liked him more before this
+happened she says. However, that’s neither here nor there, for Miss
+Fairfield likes him enough for ten, and that’s all that matters to him.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Mr. Atherton’s engagement was the chief topic of conversation on the
+ensuing days. All Margaret’s visitors must have something to say about
+it. It appeared that he had been very liberal in his confidences and
+every one could report something he had told them of the state of his
+mind either before or after his acceptance.
+
+The power of love in determining the actions of humanity was once more
+demonstrated. Mr. Atherton could not quite succeed in attaching himself
+to Margaret, and altogether failed to win her affections, even though
+he had the inducement of a promised fortune. Now he was not only very
+much in love himself, but had obtained from the lady that gratitude
+and pleasure in his addresses which would certainly develop into a
+satisfactory degree of conjugal affection, all without any money in the
+question at all.
+
+Mr. Atherton, though perhaps a little unreserved in his raptures, was a
+very much more respectable figure in the eyes of the ladies at Barton
+Cottage than he had been before. Miss Fairfield was an agreeable girl.
+His affection for her was readily understood, and if hers for him were
+increased by the prospect of a comfortable home and an affectionate
+companion in place of a dull school-room and other people’s children,
+it was not the less comprehensible for that. It was expected that she
+would prove a valuable neighbour.
+
+Walter Carey’s attentions did not diminish as Margaret grew stronger,
+and Elinor’s encouragement of his visits became an anxiety. Elinor had
+interpreted Margaret’s moment of agitation over Mrs. Jennings’s news,
+“Your beau is to marry some one else,” as having reference to Walter,
+and in giving him every facility to see her sister believed herself to
+be doing a double service. That is, she wished to believe it, but was
+not always able to think of Margaret as being happy in the visits.
+
+Margaret had an intense longing to escape from it all. The days of
+confinement to her room after a summer spent in the valley of Barton
+had given her a feeling of being hemmed in on all sides, and Elinor,
+and even her mother, increased this sensation by their affectionate
+solicitude. She longed greatly for change of scene and society, so much
+so that she took the first step to gaining her desire by confessing
+to her mother how much she would like to go away. She would even be
+willing for them to pay a short visit to her brother at Norland Park
+rather than remain without change.
+
+“We can get back before the autumn, mamma. I should not wish to stay
+long, but we have the month of September before us, and it is a
+pleasant month at Norland or anywhere.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was not prepared to take her daughter to Norland Park.
+The discussions with John Dashwood relating to Margaret’s marriage had
+given her no desire for his company, and the subsequent engagement
+of Mr. Atherton could not but be the occasion for reproaches, either
+expressed or felt, which would be neither pleasant nor profitable.
+Margaret, having no idea of her brother’s plans for her happiness,
+could not be aware how deeply he would resent Miss Fairfield’s.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood would not hear of their going to Norland Park, but the
+idea that Margaret needed some change took root in her mind, and she
+suggested to Elinor that her sister should return to Delaford with her,
+and pass some time with Marianne. Elinor was very unwilling for such an
+arrangement to be made.
+
+“Consider, mamma,” she said, “how much Margaret might be sacrificing
+when indulging this whim. Do you not think it would be an admirable
+thing if she became engaged to Walter Carey? It would be a marriage in
+every way desirable, and I cannot think it unlikely.”
+
+“My Elinor, do not let us become affected by the Park, and imagine
+every young man who is reasonably attentive to be a possible suitor,”
+replied Mrs. Dashwood. “Margaret is very young. It is probable that she
+has not yet seen the man she is to marry. I cannot allow my plans to be
+ruled by any such consideration.”
+
+Elinor could not restrain a smile. Her mother’s variableness was
+no doubt one of her attractions, but it was impossible for a more
+sober-minded daughter to forget so easily how her mother had furthered
+her own meetings with Edward at a time when she herself would have
+greatly preferred not to see him, and that Colonel Brandon undoubtedly
+owed his present happiness to his mother-in-law’s warm-hearted
+assistance. Marianne had always been quick to follow her mother’s
+mood, and at this point would have repudiated all idea of arranging
+Margaret’s future, but Elinor’s steadiness of purpose did not falter.
+
+“I am convinced,” she went on, “that the marriage is expected, and
+would be welcomed by the Careys. Isabella has said as much to me on
+more than one occasion, and therefore I do not see why it should not
+be expected and desired by ourselves. There can be no indelicacy in
+wishing Walter Carey well. He makes no secret of his attachment, and I
+very much wish that Margaret would be equally unreserved. I sometimes
+fear she still thinks of Commander Pennington, and consider how
+advantageous it would be for this to be settled before he returns--if
+he ever does return.”
+
+“I imagine her mind is not made up, therefore she can have nothing
+to confide,” said Mrs. Dashwood. “You would not wish to hurry her
+decision; and, indeed,” recollecting herself, “I have no knowledge that
+a decision is to be made. Young men do have their fancies, and it is
+quite unnecessary to take them seriously.”
+
+“It is just for that reason that I feel Margaret should stay at
+home. If she leaves Walter may become attracted by some one else. It
+is a very desirable marriage, and, though I would not wish to take
+any action in order to bring it about, I do not see that we need do
+anything to discourage it. If Margaret goes to Delaford it will seem to
+Walter that she desires to put an end to everything.”
+
+“I cannot take so serious a view of a change of air for an invalid,”
+Mrs. Dashwood said with impatience. “Walter would be a very
+unreasonable young man indeed, and an exasperating husband, if he did
+not consider Margaret’s health to be a more important consideration
+than his own pleasure in seeing her. I have no idea of his being of so
+exacting a nature.”
+
+Elinor found herself no longer able to keep pace with her mother’s
+change of front, but perceiving that, for whatever reason, the visit
+to Delaford was considered desirable, she gave up the discussion and
+limited herself to writing to Edward to make a suggestion which would
+ensure Margaret’s absence from home being short.
+
+Her plan was that Margaret should travel with Sir John alone; that she
+herself should remain with her mother; and that, as it would become
+necessary for Edward to fetch his wife later in the month, he could
+at the same time bring Margaret back to Barton. The advantages of
+this would be that her mother would not be left alone and that the
+time of her sister’s return would be fixed by her own and Edward’s
+wishes. By remaining at Barton she would be able to take some care of
+Walter’s feelings. She had been very much pleased with the young man,
+and her interest was awakened for his happiness almost more than for
+her sister’s good, and, though smiling as she thought of her mother
+comparing her with Mrs. Jennings and Sir John, she did not feel ashamed
+of her wise ordering of other people’s affairs.
+
+Margaret learnt with great pleasure of the scheme so arranged. On an
+early day in September she was to leave Barton unaccompanied either by
+her mother or Elinor, with no companion but Sir John, whose wit would
+soon be lulled to rest by the motion of the carriage. He would sleep,
+and she would look out of the window and see other fields and other
+houses, and a different breed of cattle.
+
+At the end of the journey there would be Marianne, beautiful and
+affectionate, and not too familiar; the mansion-house with its spacious
+rooms and comfortable corners, and the grounds surrounding it with
+trees and lawns. There she hoped to escape from her thoughts into wider
+interests. Colonel Brandon had always something to say worth hearing.
+Marianne had the newest books and music, and Edward Ferrars at the
+parsonage was always friendly. No one would think very much about her,
+or give her any hints or advice.
+
+Sir John agreed to the scheme, after complaining that he would have
+only one young lady to amuse him instead of two. Edward, though
+reluctant to be without his wife for a further period, was willing
+to do as she desired. Mrs. Dashwood was glad to have Elinor’s visit
+prolonged. Marianne wrote many affectionate messages on Edward’s
+second sheet, and Walter Carey, though not consulted beforehand, was
+not more than reasonably disappointed on hearing that Margaret was
+to visit her sister in Dorset until her health should be completely
+restored.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+The journey could easily be accomplished in a single day, but Sir John
+favoured an early start, and was at the door in his chaise before
+Margaret had finished breakfast. The morning was fair and, the parting
+over, Margaret settled herself to enjoyment. She was soon relieved
+of all necessity of attending to Sir John by the regular sound of
+his slumbers, and the remainder of the journey, with short halts for
+refreshment and change of horses, was spent by her in the delight
+of the scenery. She, who had become so greatly wearied by ordinary
+home-life with power of movement and change of occupation, was rested
+beyond measure by sitting still in a cramped space and listening to the
+snoring of her solitary companion. So great is the power of change of
+scene on a restless heart.
+
+She arrived at Delaford feeling fresher than when she had set out. As
+for Sir John, when he had completed the series of jerks and groans with
+which he roused himself at the stopping of the carriage, he was ready
+to assert to Colonel Brandon that they had made a capital journey,
+were great companions, and that he himself had enjoyed every minute of
+it, though he knew Miss Margaret must have regretted that she had not
+one of her beaux with her in place of an old fellow like himself.
+
+Sir John might talk about beaux here, but there was no one to heed him,
+and he was soon engaged in a rational conversation with Colonel Brandon
+while the sisters chatted in affectionate intimacy.
+
+They were a party of five for dinner, as Edward Ferrars walked up from
+the parsonage to join them and to look in at the nursery. Marianne’s
+beauty, Colonel Brandon’s sense, Edward’s affection, and Sir John’s
+comparative quietness combined to soothe and comfort Margaret’s
+spirits, while the spacious dining-room and well laid-out garden, into
+which she strolled with her arm in her sister’s after dinner, helped to
+induce the sense of air and space, mentally and bodily, which was so
+exactly what she had desired. They sat under the trees while Marianne
+talked of the children, of her greenhouse, of the neighbours and of her
+husband. Margaret indulged her in sympathetic attention, and an hour
+passed till the cool of the evening suggested their returning indoors.
+
+They were joined by the gentlemen in the drawing-room for tea. While
+sitting in the half-circle round the wood fire, which had been lit as a
+special grace for the travellers, Edward said suddenly:
+
+“I am reminded, I do not know why, unless it is by the pleasant blaze
+of that fire, and the company of Marianne and Margaret, but I am
+reminded of a conversation we held long ago at Barton Cottage. Margaret
+then remarked how delightful it would be if some one gave us each a
+large fortune and we all went to work to find some way of using it. Do
+you remember, Marianne? I recollect that your mother said she would be
+puzzled how to spend it herself if her children were all to be rich
+without her help. Do you, Marianne, feel that you have no longer any
+wishes for yourself, but only for that fine boy upstairs?”
+
+“Indeed, no, Edward! There are many things I should like to do. I would
+still like, as you suggested then, to endow young painters and writers;
+to buy books and pictures and music; to have my house often filled with
+needy artists, and in every way to assist and encourage them.”
+
+Colonel Brandon was applied to, but would only say that, if he had a
+fortune given to him, no doubt Marianne would have the spending of it.
+He would have to make one stipulation, that he was allowed a library or
+a study, or some sort of snuggery to himself, and that no artist or
+musical or literary genius should have to be admitted.
+
+“You would be a very poor host if you made such restrictions,” said
+Marianne rebukingly.
+
+“I should be a very poor man if I could not have any place to myself.
+We could make it a shabby sort of hole with a north aspect and only one
+good seat by the fire, so that the geniuses would like the other parts
+of my house better, but one place of my own I must have.”
+
+Marianne allowed him this indulgence with an affectionate smile, and
+Edward was asked to declare his wishes.
+
+“I do not think I have any pronounced desires. I should find it very
+difficult to change my mode of life to correspond with wealth. I
+believe I must do as Colonel Brandon does, and leave the spending of it
+to my wife. What do you say, Margaret? It was you who first wanted a
+fortune.”
+
+“I should travel,” said Margaret.
+
+“By gad, that’s the thing,” said Sir John. “All my life I have wanted
+to go shooting in Scotland. Fine sport there, I believe! But, what with
+the expense of the journey and not having anyone to go with me, it
+has always been impossible. But there is nothing I should like more!
+Nothing on my life!”
+
+“I do not see why we should wait for some one to give us a large
+fortune apiece before you have your desire, Sir John,” said Colonel
+Brandon. “I have a friend who has frequently asked me to go and shoot
+over the moors, and, though the journey would take some days, if you
+are not averse to travelling I should particularly enjoy it. Marianne
+will have Margaret here for companion, and we would not be away above a
+month.”
+
+Marianne’s countenance showed that the conversation had taken a turn
+which did not please her; but the offer had been made and Sir John was
+accepting it with readiness. It was immediately arranged that when Sir
+John had recovered from the short journey and had a few days’ shooting
+round the Delaford Hangers, he should accompany his host on the longer
+expedition, and not return to Delaford till early in October. His
+home-going to Barton must be still more remote, but Margaret was not
+relying on his chaise to convey her, and was therefore indifferent to
+his plans.
+
+Marianne was very unwilling to face so long a separation from her
+husband. She was always easily moved to joy or sorrow and had only
+just got accustomed to the ecstasy of her sister’s arrival, after a
+separation of four months, before she was called upon to face the grief
+of her husband’s departure on a visit of pleasure for the space of a
+few weeks.
+
+In the meantime the days passed happily. Marianne’s nursery was
+well-ordered, and the two little cousins spent only a reasonable time
+with their elders, and were taught to behave themselves on these
+occasions. Sir John remarked with wonder that he should never have
+known there were children in the house, for nobody had to search for
+something they had taken, or mop up something they had spilt, or mend
+something they had torn. Her ladyship told him that their children were
+specially high-spirited, and he supposed that was the reason for their
+making such a commotion.
+
+The evenings were spent at the instrument. Marianne could not bear
+to hear Edward read aloud, as she declared he lacked spirit in the
+performance, and she was too impatient to read well herself, but
+Margaret was very well pleased to listen again to her sister’s songs,
+and to take her place at the pianoforte when she was allowed.
+
+The few days passed, and Colonel Brandon and Sir John started on their
+journey leaving a sensation of blankness behind them which would only
+be filled by prevailing on Edward to spend the day at the mansion-house.
+
+He came. Played with his child. Talked of the news-sheet, and told them
+how far the travellers would be on their way, but it was clear that he
+was out of spirits, and it was not long before Marianne taxed him with
+this, and demanded to know the cause.
+
+“I will not say that I am in low spirits,” he replied, “but rather
+that I am perturbed. A man does not know how to deal with domestic
+situations, and I feel I am threatened--that is, I expect--I mean my
+mother has written to say that she intends paying me a few days’ visit.
+She is coming with Robert. Lucy is to remain in London, which is a
+relief, but my mother and Robert will be with me from Monday to Friday
+next week. I am, of course, glad to receive my mother, but I could wish
+that Elinor were at home to help in her entertainment.”
+
+“Oh, my dear Edward,” cried Marianne. “Be thankful that Elinor is not
+at home! It would be worse--ten times worse if she were. Remember, Mrs.
+Ferrars is your mother. She has no doubt some affection for you, but
+think how she dislikes Elinor, and think, only think, of her manners to
+her. You could not have brought me better news. I rejoice to think that
+my sister is spared this visit.”
+
+Edward could not but look rather foolish at this fervent condemnation
+of his mother’s manners, but being a peaceable man, and having an
+affectionate regard for Marianne, he made no objection, contenting
+himself with the thought that it was not unlikely that in the course
+of the visit he must listen to even stronger reprobation from his
+mother of Marianne or other of his new connections. He would allow both
+criticisms and would agree with neither.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Affectionate mother though she was, Mrs. Dashwood rejoiced in
+Margaret’s departure. She had looked so thin, so weary, and so low
+in spirits since her illness that the sight of her was a continual
+distress to her mother, who knew not what to do to help her.
+
+Elinor’s visit had coincided with a loss of confidence with Margaret
+of which no explanation had occurred to her mother. She did not know
+that she had been quoted to Margaret as reprobating instability in her
+friend and that so unjust and unnecessary a condemnation had been with
+reason resented. Mrs. Dashwood not only did not know that this remark
+had been repeated, she did not know that it had been made. She did,
+however, realize that Elinor and Margaret had no great affection for
+each other, beyond that proper to the tie of relationship. They were
+sisters, but they were not friends, and Mrs. Dashwood was conscious
+that she preferred their society one at a time. Marianne and Margaret
+had much more in common, and would be happy together, and when her
+Elinor had gone her Margaret would come back and all would be as
+before, if not more delightful than ever. Mrs. Dashwood was usually
+able to look forward to perfect bliss.
+
+Sir John’s departure had begun the break-up of the party at the Park.
+Mrs. Jennings returned to London, taking Miss Steele with her, and Lady
+Middleton and the children were to follow her thither in a few days.
+The frequent visiting and invitations from the Park now ceased. Mr.
+Atherton did not intend neglect, but he was so much engaged in going
+to Newton Hall that he came to the Cottage not more than thrice in the
+week. Mary Whitaker was, however, a constant visitor, and could be
+depended on to bring news of the outer world.
+
+Mr. Willoughby’s reappearance in the neighbourhood after four years of
+absence had been the subject of some comment. It was known that at one
+time he had enjoyed the favour of old Mrs. Smith of Allenham Court,
+that he had paid yearly visits to her, and that she had been heard
+to speak of him as her heir. Then the time came when the servants at
+Allenham had reported to their acquaintances in Barton village that
+the old lady had taken a dislike to Mr. John, and for several years
+he had not come near the place. Last spring he was there again, and
+Mrs. Willoughby with him, and Mrs. Smith seemed fully as fond of him
+as ever before, though she had not taken to the lady. Mr. John had a
+way with him that pleased the old mistress, and when she was taken
+ill later in the summer it was “John! John! John!” she must have, and
+no one else would do. He had come, and she had rallied and got about
+again, and before he went away Mr. John had promised he would come if
+ever she wanted him, no matter where he was. Little did he think he
+would only see her again in her coffin! But so it was! Mrs. Smith’s
+own maid had gone into her bedroom as she always did to draw the
+blinds, and it gave her a turn to see how white the mistress looked
+there on the pillow, and she did but touch her hand, and it was cold
+as death--and well it might be cold, for the old lady was dead, and
+though they sent for the apothecary he could do nothing but send for
+her lawyer, and he it was that had sent for Mr. John. Such was the tale
+known to the village, and brought to Mrs. Dashwood by Mary Whitaker,
+who had it from Mrs. Brent at the shop.
+
+It was possible therefore that in the future the Willoughbys would be
+the near neighbours of the ladies at Barton Cottage unless Allenham
+Court were sold or let, which, as Elinor pointed out, was at least
+possible. Mrs. Dashwood rejoiced in her forethought in again admitting
+Mr. Willoughby to their acquaintance, for nothing could be more
+uncomfortable than to be constantly avoiding him. Elinor could not but
+think that the Willoughbys would have been less likely to settle at
+Allenham Court if her mother and Margaret had been unforgiving.
+
+At present all was surmise, for the intelligence received had its
+source in the servants’ hall at the Court, and trickled through various
+channels before reaching the Cottage.
+
+The funeral was not long past before a more trustworthy informant
+arrived to give them fuller particulars. Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor were
+sitting together in the parlour when “Mr. Willoughby” was announced,
+and he followed Thomas into the room with his old impetuosity.
+
+He took Mrs. Dashwood’s hand--she could not withhold it--and pressed it
+in his. He bowed to Elinor, who made a slight movement of greeting, but
+it was to Mrs. Dashwood that he addressed himself. He came to tell her,
+what she already knew, that he was the new owner of Allenham. He spoke
+of his shame at having forfeited her friendship, his desire for its
+renewal, his intention of spending some months every year at Allenham,
+and his fear lest this should be displeasing to her, though it appeared
+so desirable to himself. He hoped she would visit his wife, but feared
+he was asking too much. He ceased--and Mrs. Dashwood could make her
+reply. It was such as might be expected by those who knew her. She saw
+no reason why they should not be neighbours. She would have pleasure in
+making Mrs. Willoughby’s acquaintance. There was nothing in the past to
+be regretted. All had turned out for the best.
+
+“No, no, madam! That I cannot allow. Best for Marianne, no doubt! It
+could not be well for her to depend for her happiness on such a one as
+myself. But for me? No, no! I protest, my regrets must be lifelong, and
+not the less for being deserved.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood could not but smile at such disarming humility and,
+with the comfortable adage that bygones should be bygones, changed
+the conversation by an inquiry as to the details of Mrs. Smith’s last
+illness. It was hoped that she did not suffer. He replied suitably,
+and with the appearance of feeling; and, taking the hint that no
+further reference to the past was desired, he began to discuss the
+neighbourhood, the improvements he intended, the tenants of the various
+farms, and spoke of Grice’s farm as one that was in good order and
+occupied by valuable tenants.
+
+“I happened to go there in July for a friend’s address, and had a look
+round the place and a chat with Mrs. Grice. My friend was staying
+there last April, but, unfortunately, though I was then at Allenham, I
+did not know of his being so near until he was gone. I heard he was in
+the Baltic, but had to get the name of the sloop he is commanding. Did
+you happen to hear of him? Pennington is his name.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood remarked that he had dined at the Park.
+
+“Yes, that is how I heard of his visit. I was amazingly disappointed,
+for I should like of all things to see him again. These naval officers
+are for ever slipping through one’s fingers.”
+
+“How did you make his acquaintance?” asked Elinor. She had not spoken
+before this, and Willoughby started slightly, but turned to her, all
+attention.
+
+“I met him fairly often at his club playing cards,” he replied. “I
+preferred to have him as a partner rather than as an opponent, so you
+can guess the degree of his proficiency. He is well known at the club,
+and generally liked. I am only one of his admirers.”
+
+Elinor was satisfied with this reply. It confirmed her opinion that
+Commander Pennington was all he ought not to be, and she felt a slight
+relenting towards Willoughby for having furnished this information. Her
+mother saw with amusement how the conversation affected her, but did
+not pursue it.
+
+Willoughby inquired for Margaret, and learnt that she was quite
+recovered, was at Delaford with Mrs. Brandon, and was not expected home
+for some weeks. He thought the air of Delaford--and the society--likely
+to be of great benefit, and mentioned the theatricals with just enough
+of wit and sense and not too much of either; spoke of Mr. Atherton’s
+approaching marriage, and commended his choice; alluded to his regret
+that Margaret had been unable to take the part of Sabrina, admired her
+voice, compared it, again with a sigh, to Mrs. Brandon’s. Mrs. Dashwood
+was about to weary of his conversation when he got up to take leave,
+expressing his sincere gratitude for the graciousness of his reception.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+Elinor represented to her mother that the account Willoughby gave of
+his friend should be communicated to Margaret, but Mrs. Dashwood would
+not hear of it.
+
+“I will not have Margaret troubled in the matter. We know nothing of
+his feeling, or of hers, and I am disinclined to exert any influence.
+Certainly it appears that he may be something of a fashionable gambler,
+but we have only the word of one man, and he not very trustworthy, and
+it is most probable that Commander Pennington’s character in no wise
+concerns us. I cannot have Margaret’s mind disturbed and her recovery
+retarded by any disquieting statements which cannot be proved, and
+which would probably only serve to remind her of an incident which is
+best forgotten.”
+
+Elinor’s judgment was thus overruled and no letter was sent to Margaret
+describing Willoughby’s visit. However, she felt herself at liberty to
+write freely to Marianne. They had always been deeply attached, and
+were completely in each other’s confidence. It was but natural that
+her letter should be without reserve. She crossed it at the end with
+the words, “Do not speak of all this to Margaret,” but as Marianne did
+not notice this addition till she had read and reread the letter, and
+discussed its contents with Margaret, the instruction might as well
+have been omitted.
+
+                                          BARTON COTTAGE,
+                                              _September 14th, 1813_.
+
+  MY DEAREST MARIANNE,
+
+  You will be surprised to hear of the visitor who called yesterday,
+  and I have some fear that you will also be displeased. It was John
+  Willoughby. Margaret may have told you that he has been in the
+  neighbourhood this summer, as she herself has seen more of him than
+  we have. I was at first unwilling to acknowledge his acquaintance,
+  but my mother wished that we should keep up the outward appearance of
+  civility, and Margaret has danced with him on two occasions. We were
+  not, however, prepared for his calling at Barton Cottage.
+
+  Mrs. Smith has lately died, and he and Mrs. Willoughby will live at
+  Allenham for some months in the year, and he came to beg my mother
+  to notice his wife. She agreed. You know her goodness of heart,
+  but I cannot but fear you will not approve so much complaisance.
+  Do not, however, be alarmed, my dearest sister, we will not allow
+  you to be annoyed by meeting them. It will not be difficult to time
+  your visits to Barton so that they shall not coincide with the
+  Willoughbys’ residence at Allenham. One further communication I must
+  tell you which troubles me for Margaret. You will know from her that
+  she has lately made the acquaintance of a Commander Pennington in
+  circumstances which I cannot but think were neither to the credit
+  of his manners nor of her discretion. However, the acquaintance was
+  made, and led to his calling on my mother and some promise of his
+  seeing them again on his return to England. I regret to say that
+  Willoughby claims this man as his friend, plays cards with him at
+  his club, and describes him as a proficient gamester, well known in
+  London clubs as such. I hope, however, that his idea has already been
+  effectually dispelled from her mind by the advances of Walter Carey,
+  who begged to have news of her yesterday, and sends her his best
+  regards. The former incident, as our mother says, is best forgotten,
+  and I dare say it has already passed from Margaret’s mind.
+
+  I hope little Edward is good and gives you no trouble that can be
+  avoided.
+
+  Forgive me, my dearest sister, for vexing you with all this
+  concerning the past, but the annoyance must be known to you now or
+  later.
+
+  I look forward to being with you again; but enjoy our mother’s
+  society in the extreme.
+
+                                       Yours affectionately,
+                                                   ELINOR FERRARS.
+
+Marianne was very much surprised on getting this letter, as none of the
+confidences which Elinor supposed to have passed between Margaret and
+herself had taken place.
+
+She carried it at once to her sister, and laughingly taxed her with
+concealment.
+
+“To think that you have seen Willoughby and danced with him, and told
+me nothing of it. I insist on hearing all about him at once. He was
+quite a beau of mine, as Miss Steele would say. It is amazing to look
+back and see how differently I felt in those days, and how little
+I then thought of the man who is now so dear to me. But tell me of
+Willoughby, Margaret. I must hear all about him. Did he ask for me?”
+
+Margaret told her of the stream of questions and outspoken admiration
+which had formed the main part of his conversation, and Marianne was
+greatly entertained.
+
+“Of course you were right, Margaret, to listen to him and be agreeable.
+Why should poor Willoughby be shunned? It is all so long ago, and not
+of any moment now. But now tell me of this Commander Pennington, his
+friend.”
+
+Margaret felt instant agitation, but she asked as quietly as she could:
+
+“What do you know of him?”
+
+“Nay, rather what do you know? Our prudent Elinor says you made his
+acquaintance in circumstances that reflect no credit on his manners or
+on your discretion, and that our mother declares the incident is best
+forgotten. Come, Margaret, I must know! Consider how dull a life I
+lead--my husband away and no one to amuse me but Edward and yourself.
+Do not deny me the pleasure of a little romance.”
+
+Margaret turned away. She was unable to speak. She could not recount
+the incidents lightly. She would not willingly make much of them.
+Marianne, perceiving her distress, took her gently by the hand and said:
+
+“Is it possible that this is more serious than my mother and Elinor
+believe? Will you not confide in me, Margaret? I will not advise you or
+blame you for indiscretion. I have been too indiscreet myself to wish
+to influence you, but you are sure of my sympathy and of my affection.”
+
+Margaret’s reserve was broken down. She told her sister of the meeting
+on the downs, of her dread of discussion, of the second meeting, and
+the third, and lastly, of the visit to the Cottage. She did not dwell
+on these, but her memory was so exact, her account so clear, that it
+was evident to Marianne that her sister had been deeply affected. She
+led the conversation to Walter Carey, and his message, and saw in her
+sister’s face that the topic was distasteful. She returned to Commander
+Pennington, and spoke of his being a friend of Willoughby’s.
+
+“I rather think that our dear Elinor, in the goodness of her heart
+towards me, is ready to think ill of any friend of Willoughby’s, but,
+indeed, I do not think it such a serious charge. Willoughby had many
+friends of all degrees of intimacy. They all play cards at the clubs,
+but I do not know that there need be any wrong-doing about that. I do
+not consider it is proved that your friend should be called a gamester.
+As to your meeting and talking on the downs, it seems to me of all
+things most natural. Were you to turn your back on him after the
+service he had done you? I sympathize with you, too, on the question of
+secrecy. Willoughby and I were less careful, and we suffered much from
+Sir John and dear old Mrs. Jennings, whom I have long forgiven for the
+miserable moments she gave me.”
+
+Margaret found the relief of this full confidence and understanding to
+be very great. She had not spoken to her mother on the subject since
+learning from Elinor that her mother’s opinion of Commander Pennington
+was unfavourable, and she was young enough to need the relief of
+speaking her thoughts. Marianne was delighted. Her joy in romance was
+her strength as well as her weakness, and she was made very happy by
+hearing of this which might prove to be a genuine case of love at first
+sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+The elder Mrs. Ferrars was connected with the Dashwoods in two ways.
+John Dashwood had married her daughter, Fanny, and her elder son,
+Edward, was the husband of Elinor. In spite of these intermarriages the
+two families were very far from being intimate. Mrs. Dashwood had never
+been in company with Mrs. Ferrars, Marianne only once, and that four
+years ago.
+
+Mrs. Ferrars was a woman whose only claim to eminence was her lack
+of amiability. True, she was also wealthy, but a number of people
+were wealthier, while for sheer ill-nature, unrelieved by any more
+important vice, Mrs. Ferrars attained distinction. Even when obliged
+to say or do something that would ordinarily give pleasure she could
+contrive to say or do it in a disagreeable manner. Her visit to Edward
+was purposely ill-timed. She disliked his wife rather more than she
+disliked most of her acquaintances, and to come when Elinor was away,
+and the household not at its best, was a sure way of humiliating her
+in several ways at once. By coming when her son was alone she made it
+clear that she did not wish to see his wife. By finding the domestic
+arrangements inadequate, the inefficiency of Elinor as a housekeeper
+was demonstrated; and in upsetting the servants, by introducing two of
+her own to wait on her, she could feel assured that Elinor’s return
+home would be rendered less agreeable by the complaints of her maids.
+
+Edward himself could feel no pleasure in the thought of his mother’s
+visit. She despised him for his profession, for his wife, for his
+lack of fashion, and for his love of rational pursuits. In order to
+enforce her disapproval she brought Robert, the younger brother, whom
+she professed to admire for being the opposite of her elder son. Mrs.
+Ferrars travelled in state in her own carriage with her man and maid
+following in a hired chaise. They were to arrive in time for dinner on
+Monday and stay till the following Friday.
+
+Edward implored Marianne to come and do the honours of his
+dinner-table, but she would not consent to break in on the family
+party, only promising that she and Margaret would walk down to drink
+tea with them later. They arrived at the parsonage at a time when
+Edward had come to the end of his conversation and was sitting in
+awkward silence, while Robert whistled and examined the pictures, and
+Mrs. Ferrars was fully occupied in looking displeased.
+
+The entrance of two pretty young women could not but be interesting to
+Robert, who stared at them until he was introduced, bowed, and then
+stared again.
+
+Mrs. Ferrars remarked disparagingly that Margaret was very like Elinor.
+Robert, with the intention of being agreeable, remarked that his mother
+was wrong. Miss Margaret was better-looking than Elinor. Mrs. Ferrars
+maintained that she was right in thinking them very much alike--they
+were both pale and small--and Edward was called upon to decide on the
+relative beauty, or lack of beauty, of his wife and her sister.
+
+Marianne had learnt something in her contact with the world of
+fashion. She knew that some forms of insolence were best met by a
+like incivility. She therefore called on Edward to decide whether the
+absent Fanny were most like her mother, Mrs. Ferrars, or her brother,
+Mr. Robert, and would have continued the discussion in detail, with
+comments on the shapes of noses and the expression of eyes, if Edward
+had not stopped it by some obvious remark about the impossibility of
+deciding on likenesses as every one saw them differently.
+
+Mrs. Ferrars eyed her opponent with some degree of liking. This
+was much better than Elinor’s quiet respect, Fanny’s affectionate
+admiration, or even than Lucy’s servile adulation. It was seldom that
+she met with a young woman who might very well be rude to her, if
+sufficiently annoyed. Margaret need only be ignored, but it could be
+expected that there would be pleasure in contradicting Marianne, and
+even in being contradicted by her.
+
+The next subject of conversation was the surprisingly early hour
+at which Edward dined. She had been unable to eat a dinner at
+four o’clock, and she could not take supper. Travelling was very
+uncomfortable if it entailed such irregular meals. Here again Marianne
+was ready for her. The time that Elinor and Edward had fixed for their
+dinner hour was exactly that chosen by the King and the Royal Family,
+having been recommended to the King by the Royal physician as being the
+best hour to ensure perfect health. Again Edward stopped Marianne’s
+flow of talk by remarking that it was impossible to decide on the best
+time for dinner as every one preferred a different one, but his mother
+had but to say what time she liked and it should be arranged. This,
+however, did not please Mrs. Ferrars, for it robbed her of a ground of
+complaint. She remarked that she could not think of making any such
+suggestion, and then considered a few moments before making her next
+attack.
+
+Marianne employed the interval by telling Edward some of the clever
+things small Edward had been saying, all of which were noticed by the
+grandmother with only one remark:
+
+“All children talk in that way if they are too much indulged.”
+
+Mrs. Ferrars now asked for Marianne’s agreement on a point in question
+between herself and Edward. She was dissatisfied to find that Edward
+was unwilling to leave the parish for the space of a week or two in
+order to accompany her to Scotland. She evidently did not particularly
+desire his society, but she did not like to have to go alone. Edward,
+though ready enough to yield on unimportant matters, was now firm. He
+would not consider absenting himself from Sunday duty. As Robert had
+engagements in town there was no help for it. Their mother must go to
+Scotland alone. Marianne expressed pity for the lonely traveller, but
+agreed with Edward that he could not leave his work to make one of his
+mother’s retinue.
+
+“It is unfortunate, madam, that you did not come here a little earlier.
+My husband and his friend are but just gone to Scotland and would have
+been happy to escort you,” said Marianne with more of politeness than
+truth.
+
+Mrs. Ferrars made no reply, with the design of showing Marianne that
+the happiness would not have been shared.
+
+“They have gone to stay with Lord G---- to shoot on the moors,”
+Marianne added.
+
+This intelligence roused Mrs. Ferrars, whose acquaintance did not
+include so many titles as to render her indifferent to them. Mrs.
+Brandon, though Elinor’s sister, appeared to know some people of
+importance. She was also rich and handsome, and these advantages began
+to have some effect on Mrs. Ferrars.
+
+“And why did you not go with them?” she asked.
+
+“I had my sister with me and the care of the two children,” replied
+Marianne.
+
+Mrs. Ferrars darted a vicious look at Margaret, as though to say that
+she did not matter, and continued:
+
+“Elinor should return. She has been away quite long enough. If she came
+back you could join your husband. Edward, if you will go and fetch
+Elinor home I will take Mrs. Brandon to Scotland. We will start on
+Friday.”
+
+Marianne resolutely declined, but Mrs. Ferrars only looked at her with
+renewed distaste, and said:
+
+“You should be with your husband. Young women should be with their
+husbands. Elinor should not be so long from Edward, and you should come
+to Scotland with me.”
+
+Edward was roused to saying that Elinor might not wish to come home
+yet, and that Margaret must be considered.
+
+Robert was all for solving this problem by taking Miss Margaret back
+to London with him to visit Lucy, and Mrs. Ferrars dealt with it by
+remarking that there would be room in the carriage for Miss Margaret if
+she did not mind sitting backward.
+
+Marianne again declared that she had not the power to accept Mrs.
+Ferrars’s kind offer of conveying her to her husband, and soon
+afterwards took leave, being sped on her way by a look of resentment
+from the little lady’s eye and a final: “You should be with your
+husband.” While Margaret was dismissed with a nod and the information
+that she was certainly very like her sister Elinor.
+
+Marianne was not so entirely opposed to the scheme of joining her
+husband in Scotland as she had pretended. The difficulties were not
+great, and she had only dwelt on them with the intention of being
+contradictory. She felt--Marianne was incapable of scheming--but she
+felt, without putting it into words, that to decline Mrs. Ferrars’s
+proposal would only make her more determined that it should be
+accepted. It would certainly be renewed on every occasion that they
+met, with added venom and reproach.
+
+As the sisters returned to the mansion-house Marianne put before
+Margaret the advantage of the scheme, beginning with the charm of being
+again with her husband and ending with that of being in a position to
+tease Mrs. Ferrars through a journey of several days.
+
+“I delight in vexing her. She has not been opposed as she should, and
+it must be of use to her to have something to be cross about and some
+one who deserves her displeasure. She would be just as cross anyway,
+and for less reason. I consider that, while amusing myself, I do her a
+real service.”
+
+“I question if it would be good for either of you for so long a time
+as the journey to Scotland would occupy, or in so small a space as her
+coach.”
+
+“No, I should be obliged to rest sometimes, or the enjoyment of
+quarrelling would lessen. But consider, Margaret, would you not greatly
+like to see Scotland? You have never been far from home, and you said
+but a few days ago how much you wished to travel. This method of
+travelling would be comfortable and respectable. We could not go in a
+public conveyance, but we may be sure that, however disagreeable Mrs.
+Ferrars may wish to be, there will be nothing about her arrangements to
+displease us. Do let us see if it can be managed. Edward could start
+for Barton to-morrow, and Elinor and he would be back on Friday. Nanny
+can be trusted to care for the children for the one day that we shall
+all be away. If you consent I will write to Mamma, and Edward can take
+it to-morrow.”
+
+Margaret saw that her sister was attracted by the idea, and would
+not oppose her. Edward could be relied on to do as he was asked, for
+there could be no question of their journeyings interfering with his
+Sunday work. He would certainly rejoice in the prospect of missing the
+remainder of his mother’s visit, and getting his wife home. Margaret
+was willing to leave the decision to Marianne. There was no fear that
+their stay in Scotland would be a long one, for as soon as she was with
+her husband Marianne would certainly begin to long for her child, and
+the scheme of joining Colonel Brandon would be more likely to shorten
+than to lengthen his absence from home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Elinor was surprised on Tuesday afternoon, while sitting at work with
+her mother, to hear familiar footsteps coming up the path. It was
+Edward, bringing news of the intended visit to Scotland, of Margaret’s
+improved health, of the well-doing of their child, and lastly, though
+this was not explicitly stated, of his mother’s continued ill-temper.
+Elinor was happy to have him with her, and Mrs. Dashwood scarcely less
+so. She was delighted with the scheme for taking Margaret to Scotland,
+delighted to have news of her grandchildren, and, though regretting
+Elinor’s nearer departure, delighted to think of her daughter having
+the pleasure of her husband’s society.
+
+The dinner-hour was never more pleasantly spent, Mrs. Dashwood
+expressing in every look and word that affection for her sons-in-law
+which so greatly enhanced the happiness of their wives.
+
+Dinner being over, Edward wished to walk down to the village, where
+he had left his chaise and horses, see to the comfort of the latter,
+and call at the parsonage for a word with Mr. Atherton. Mrs. Dashwood
+agreed to accompany him, and they walked away together.
+
+Elinor was still standing at the gate after seeing them on their
+way when she became aware of some one approaching from the opposite
+direction. It was a stranger to her; an agreeable-looking man. He
+walked fast, and was soon near. Though she had still no idea of his
+being acquainted with her, from his stopping and bowing she saw that
+he, at least, claimed some knowledge of her.
+
+“My name is Pennington,” he said, “I am acquainted with Mrs. Dashwood
+and her daughter. Is it to Mrs. Ferrars that I speak?”
+
+This last was a conjecture founded on Willoughby’s description of
+Elinor, which her expression at the moment almost justified.
+
+“Yes, I am Mrs. Ferrars. My mother is out walking. Can I give her a
+message from you when she returns?”
+
+She did not ask him to come in, and he did not appear to wish it. He
+only looked at her steadily and asked:
+
+“Is Margaret well?”
+
+She replied in a simple affirmative.
+
+“Is she at home?”
+
+“My sister is at Delaford with Mrs. Brandon,” then, as his face showed
+a determination which she construed correctly, she added: “Unless she
+has already started for a tour in Scotland.”
+
+“You do not know for certain?” he asked.
+
+Elinor replied that she believed they had not started yet. She was
+angry with herself for telling him so much, but his questions and his
+look were so direct that she must be sincere.
+
+He thanked her courteously, said he would write to Mrs. Dashwood,
+and walked off as he had come, leaving her with some regrets for her
+lack of cordiality. Her regrets would have been increased, though the
+grounds changed, if she had been able to see round the corner of the
+lane. For as he walked along with head bent in thought, he was hailed
+by whom but Willoughby!
+
+Richard Pennington was decidedly the less interested of the two, but he
+nodded pleasantly, shook hands, and asked:
+
+“What brings you here?”
+
+“Nay, I might rather ask that,” said Willoughby. “I thought you were to
+be in the Baltic for another month at least.”
+
+“We were recalled on the very day I got your letter. We were paid off
+yesterday.”
+
+“Well, then! Again I ask you what brings you here? Here is a man just
+come ashore, and with money in his pocket, and he spends his time in a
+Devonshire village. What’s the attraction? I know Mrs. Grice was once
+your nurse, but you can surely do without her for a few months at a
+time?”
+
+Richard Pennington’s reply was that he was leaving Barton at once.
+Willoughby immediately asked if he was going to London, and if so
+offered a seat in his curricle.
+
+“I may go to London eventually, but at present I am on my way to a
+place called Delaford. Have you any knowledge of its whereabouts?”
+
+“Delaford? I have never been there, but I have a friend, an old friend,
+who lives at the mansion. I will drive you thither on my way to London,
+and perhaps call on my friend. No! best not, but I will certainly take
+you there. I suppose you have business to transact. Do you know the
+Brandons?”
+
+Pennington replied that he did not. He did not feel for Willoughby the
+degree of confidence and friendship which was professed for himself,
+and though willing to take a seat in the curricle and to talk on
+affairs in the Baltic or other less important matters, he had no idea
+of discussing his errand to Delaford with anyone.
+
+“I must write a letter and pack my bag, and will then be at your
+service,” he said, “if, as I understand, you wish to start this
+evening. Otherwise I will see if I can hire a chaise.”
+
+“You are in a hurry! However, I am willing to start in an hour’s time
+if it pleases you. There is moonlight, and we shall be well on our way
+before dark. We can sleep at Honiton and reach Delaford in the morning.”
+
+Richard Pennington returned to the farm, wrote a short note to Mrs.
+Dashwood, and was gone before the farm-lad, to whom he gave it for
+delivery, had put it into Thomas’s hand at the door of Barton Cottage.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood and Edward returned from their walk, chatting of trivial
+matters. They were met by Elinor with so disturbed and anxious a
+countenance that her mother took instant alarm.
+
+“Have you bad news? Has a post come while we were away, or a messenger?”
+
+Elinor reassured her. Nothing untoward had happened. There had been a
+visitor, and she had been uncertain how to act, but hoped she had done
+right.
+
+“Tell me, Elinor, what is it? I insist on knowing the worst.”
+
+“Pray, mamma, do not be disturbed. The visitor was Commander
+Pennington. He asked for you, and I told him you were not within, and
+he asked for Margaret, and I fear I did wrong--but I told him where
+Margaret is.”
+
+“I do not see why that should be wrong,” said Mrs. Dashwood. “I
+suppose he will come and see me again. Did he say where he was staying?
+He did not expect to be in England again so soon, when he left us last
+April.”
+
+She spoke in a light, cheerful tone. She had always considered that
+Elinor thought too much both of Richard Pennington’s admiration of
+Margaret and of his possible shortcomings. Elinor’s kindness and
+goodness of heart must always be valued, but her mother did sometimes
+wish she would be less serious.
+
+“Who is this Commander Pennington?” asked Edward. “Is it that admirer
+of Margaret’s? By the way, I wonder if by any chance he is Richard
+Pennington. If so, I knew him some six or seven years ago, long before
+I became a country parson. He spent some of his leave with a friend of
+mine, an excellent fellow. I wish I had seen him.”
+
+Poor Elinor! Her discretion had been too great, and she regretted it as
+she had never expected to regret the exercise of her favourite virtue.
+Her mother appeared to think her discretion as unimportant as anything
+else in the matter. The subject was swept aside, and Edward was led to
+give an entertaining account of Mrs. Ferrars at Delaford Parsonage,
+and the various grounds of complaint over Elinor’s arrangements,
+which amused both ladies excessively. Elinor, secure in Edward’s
+satisfaction, cared for no other criticism, and Mrs. Dashwood shed
+tears of laughter at the account Edward gave of Mrs. Ferrars’s servants
+compelled to associate with the parsonage maids, who knew nothing of
+London ways.
+
+Edward’s bag must now be unpacked, and Elinor went with him to see him
+do it, and arrange his handkerchiefs and brushes as he liked. They
+had not been together for some weeks, and it was natural that some
+half-hour should be occupied in what need not have taken many minutes.
+While they were absent a note was handed to Mrs. Dashwood, which she
+read with astonishment:
+
+  DEAR MADAM,
+
+  I called this evening in the hope of seeing your daughter, Margaret.
+  If I had been so fortunate as to find you at home I should have told
+  you of my errand, which was to ask your daughter to become my wife. I
+  hear that she is starting for Scotland almost immediately. There is
+  therefore no time to be lost if I am to see her before she goes. When
+  this is in your hands I shall be on my way to Delaford.
+
+                                    Believe me, dear madam,
+                                                 Yours obediently,
+                                                   RICHARD PENNINGTON.
+
+Mrs. Dashwood read and reread the letter. She had to decide at once.
+Should she, or should she not, speak of it to Elinor? She decided that
+she would not do so; shut it in her desk, and stood by the window
+looking out at the rising moon. She would not answer the letter. He did
+not ask for her consent--it was not her consent that he wanted--but as
+she remained there looking out into the garden, and thinking of her
+Margaret at Delaford, she gave him her consent, and wished him well
+with all her heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Mrs. Ferrars, as Marianne expected, repeated her request that the
+sisters should accompany her to Scotland. She was none the less
+surprised at having her offer accepted.
+
+The contest between the elder and the younger lady was still carried
+on, but the ground of difference was changed. It was not now whether
+Marianne should or should not join her husband in Scotland, but whether
+she was doing so to please herself or out of kindness to Mrs. Ferrars,
+who always assumed the one reason and Marianne the other.
+
+It was Wednesday morning. Edward had left on Tuesday, was giving his
+horses two days’ rest, and would return on Friday, bringing Elinor back
+to take charge of the children and soothe her disturbed household. Mrs.
+Ferrars, Marianne and Margaret were to start early on Friday, with man
+and maid in the chaise behind, and intended to reach Bath in time for
+the Sunday. The journey was to be continued at a similarly leisurely
+pace and Margaret looked forward with great interest to the coming week.
+
+This morning Marianne found it necessary to go to the village to
+give some orders, and had added that she proposed to look in on Mrs.
+Ferrars to give her something vexatious to think about. As soon as
+she was gone, Margaret took some work and went to sit in an old yew
+arbour which stood on a mound against the high wall that surrounded the
+garden. Thence she could see Marianne walking along the lane towards
+the village, the morning coach passing on the turnpike road, then a
+cart, and later a gentleman’s carriage.
+
+It was a cheerful place in which to spend an hour or two in the open
+air without the fatigue of walking or the necessity for change of
+dress. She had been settled there for about half an hour when she
+noticed a curricle coming along the road at a rapid pace. It stopped,
+and a man got out, and spoke to his companion, who then drove forward
+more slowly. Margaret had nothing very particular to do, and at first
+she watched this figure with idle interest, but it was not long before
+she became aware that he had turned into the lane, not long before she
+knew who it was, and not long before he was standing below her on the
+other side of the wall, and looking up.
+
+“May I come up there, Margaret?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, if you can,” she replied, “but there is a way round by the great
+gate.”
+
+The gallant Commander was not the man to go round by any great gate
+when a more direct way was before him. The wall was of rough stone,
+and some of the stones projected. He was soon near the top, but then
+experienced some difficulty.
+
+“Shall I give you a hand?” she asked.
+
+“Yes, if you will,” said he.
+
+He did not, however, give up the hand when he was beside her in
+the gazebo. They sat down together, and though Margaret might ask
+questions about the journey it was difficult to keep up a purely formal
+conversation when he held her hand. So it was not long before she was
+silent, and he began to speak, and told her of his errand. It was to
+ask her a simple question, and, when she heard the question, she was in
+no doubt as to the answer.
+
+When Marianne returned from her latest discussion with Mrs. Ferrars
+she heard that which put all quarrels out of her head. It was a joyful
+day for Marianne. She was not the less in love with romance because
+she was also in love with the Colonel, and by the time she had heard
+all they would tell her she was, outwardly at least, by far the most
+enthusiastic of the three. They quitted her soon to indulge in the
+endless discussions, the long silences, the renewed converse, which
+are so familiar to all who have been in love. Marianne was left to the
+enjoyment of her own thoughts and the formation of further plans.
+
+It was not until dinner was over and Marianne had exercised her right
+as hostess to secure their company in the drawing-room that she
+produced her scheme.
+
+“Richard,” she asked, “how soon do you wish to be married?”
+
+“As soon as is possible,” he replied promptly.
+
+“I will not ask Margaret. She would only give me some evasive reply,
+but I will ask her another question. Do you want to have every one at
+Barton asking you questions and then inventing the answers and saying
+you said this or that, and noticing when you blush, and teasing you and
+vexing you in every imaginable way?”
+
+“I do not think I mind very much. I am used to that sort of thing, and
+now----”
+
+“That is the wrong answer, Margaret,” said Richard. “You should have
+replied as I did, in the way your sister expected. You should have said
+simply ‘No.’”
+
+“Her answer was perfectly satisfactory to me, thank you, Richard. She
+ended it with ‘and now.’ That means, does it not, Margaret, that being
+to marry Richard makes everything right. Correct me if I am wrong. I do
+not wish to attribute to you anything you do not willingly admit.”
+
+Margaret willingly admitted as she was asked, and Marianne expressed
+herself satisfied.
+
+“Richard wishes to get married as soon as possible, and Margaret admits
+that nothing else matters. Now for my third question, which is for both
+of you. Do you wish to please me greatly?”
+
+This was immediately agreed to by both.
+
+“Well, then, do, do come to Scotland with us, Richard, and be married
+there. It is the most entrancing scheme. I have been thinking of it
+half the morning. Margaret and I will travel with Mrs. Ferrars, and
+you will follow in a hired chaise. At all the stops there you will
+be, and I will present you to Mrs. Ferrars as a mere acquaintance. We
+shall spend Sunday in Bath, and I will take care that she is kept out
+of the way, but she is bound to see you, and to find out that you are
+following us, and she will be so delightfully angry at your continued
+appearances, and abuse you so much, and I shall enjoy myself beyond
+measure.”
+
+Margaret protested that their marriage was being pressed into service
+to keep up the contest with Mrs. Ferrars, but Marianne would not have
+it so. She had other and better reasons to urge.
+
+“Do think how deplorably unromantic our marriages have been. Mamma, to
+begin with, marrying Papa, years and years older than herself, and a
+widower of all things. Then Elinor, with dear good Edward, who is the
+most prosaic creature in the world, and as to myself, though I would
+not have anything different, no one can possibly think my marriage in
+the least romantic. Now you two have the most amazing opportunity.
+Nothing could exceed the delightful romance of your situation. To make
+it perfect you must elope.”
+
+“Mamma----” began Margaret.
+
+“Mamma will be delighted,” went on Marianne. “She said at my wedding
+that she hoped she would never have to undergo so much of fuss and
+ceremony again. She even said she hoped you would elope when your turn
+came, though I do not suppose she quite meant that. However, there can
+be no harm in taking her at her word.”
+
+“That is not what I meant,” said Margaret. “I did not think she would
+particularly desire wedding festivities, but I think she should know
+what is happening, that her consent----”
+
+“I wrote to her before I came away,” said Richard.
+
+This was unexpected.
+
+“Do you mean she knows?” asked Margaret.
+
+“She knows what I wanted.”
+
+“And she did not object? She consented,” declared Marianne. “There can
+be no question of it. If she had wished to prevent it she would have
+done so.”
+
+“She did not have very much time,” said Richard.
+
+“Oh, Mamma always says if she does not wish anything. Besides, she
+would never oppose us in anything that was of real importance. I am
+sure Mamma would be on my side. She would love to vex Mrs. Ferrars.”
+
+“There is one thing I do not like,” said Richard. “How about the
+Colonel? This is his house. I do not want to elope from it without his
+consent.”
+
+“Oh!” said Marianne. “That is another point. You would never, never
+guess it to look at him, but my husband was once all ready prepared to
+elope himself, only all was discovered.”
+
+“With you?” asked Richard, puzzled.
+
+“No, not with me, with another lady, long, long ago. It is a great
+secret; but it will be impossible for him to make any objection to
+elopements from his house. Also, I really do not see what else is to
+be done. You would not wish Margaret to go to Scotland, and leave you
+here?”
+
+Richard agreed that he would not.
+
+“Of course she could stay on at the parsonage with Elinor.”
+
+Margaret thought not.
+
+“Well, then, there is nothing for it but for you to come to Scotland
+with us, and when there it would be a pity not to get married. For if
+you do you can go straight back together to Mamma, and you will see at
+once if you have vexed her. But I think it will amuse and please her of
+all things.”
+
+It did really seem to be a plan of some convenience. Marianne assumed
+it to be settled. Richard found it very much to his liking, and
+Margaret only stipulated that they should write without delay to her
+mother.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+The elopement took place, with the unconscious Mrs. Ferrars and the
+deeply interested Mrs. Brandon as chaperones. It was, of course, a very
+romantic affair.
+
+The journey through England was as delightful as such a journey must
+be. It was leisurely, and if Mrs. Dashwood had wished to stop them
+she could very easily have done so. Thirty-six hours were spent in
+Bath, and at each stopping-place they arrived in time for dinner and
+did not proceed till the next day. Commander Pennington had no idea
+of keeping out of sight, and Mrs. Ferrars’s anger steadily grew,
+while her curiosity was not aroused. When they reached the Border the
+wedding ceremony was short and to the point. Marianne returned to the
+carriage without her sister, and stated that she would not accompany
+them farther as she was now married. The effect of this news on Mrs.
+Ferrars was all that Marianne had desired. It was even greater than she
+had expected, and she was not at all sorry to part from her when they
+came to the meeting-place at which Colonel Brandon had been charged to
+appear.
+
+He was there, somewhat bewildered at his wife’s unlooked-for decision
+to follow him, and not less so when he heard a part of the romantic
+adventure which had just been achieved.
+
+If Marianne supposed that an elopement would give people less to talk
+about than an ordinary wedding she was mistaken, but if, after hearing
+what Colonel Brandon had to say to her, she was afraid that she had
+hurried her young sister into an imprudent marriage, she was again
+mistaken, for the marriage proved a very happy one. It was founded,
+not on long friendship, careful choice, the wishes of true friends,
+similarity of tastes or equality of fortune, not in fact on any of
+those circumstances which bring about successful unions, but on that
+which happens to some few fortunate mortals and is called “Love at
+first sight.”
+
+Mrs. Dashwood was easily placated. She had never been very angry,
+though she would have counselled delay if she had been given the
+opportunity to offer advice. Nothing was left for her to do but to be
+kind and welcoming, and nothing was so easy. Richard Pennington was
+soon as well-beloved as her other sons-in-law, and not far behind them
+in the affection he returned.
+
+The life of a naval officer’s wife, though not so full of hardships as
+Mrs. Palmer had predicted, was not easy. It was long before Commander
+Pennington attained post-rank. He was employed on a guardship off Malta
+for some years, and Margaret had her wish of travelling, but not in
+circumstances of great wealth.
+
+When William IV came to the throne he took care of the navy, and a
+great many officers who had fancied themselves forgotten got a pleasant
+surprise. Richard was among them, and became Captain Pennington. He got
+no further promotion, but was contented with this step in rank. They
+had but one son, and their income was sufficient for their needs.
+
+If Margaret had less of some things than her sisters she had more of
+others. Marianne was right in saying that Margaret’s marriage was
+romantic for she had that kind of happiness which is not deserved
+because no one can deserve it, and Richard Pennington shared that
+happiness because he made it.
+
+But happiness _should_ result from well-doing. It must be as
+distressing to the reader as it is to the writer to notice that if
+Commander Pennington’s manners had been better he would have allowed
+Margaret to go home without attempting to make her acquaintance on
+High-church down; and if she had had more discretion she would have
+withdrawn after a proper acknowledgment of his politeness, returned
+home, and no doubt become Lady Carey in due course. _She_ might have
+been almost as happy in that case, and would certainly have been richer
+and more comfortable, but there is no doubt that _Richard’s_ happiness
+resulted from his lapse in manners, and Margaret’s inattention to
+decorum.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s note
+
+
+Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice.
+
+Spelling was retained as in the original except for the following
+changes:
+
+Page 72: “She was in her”               “She was on her”
+Page 81: “with patient displeasure”     “with patent displeasure”
+Page 155: “had noticed the Carey’s”     “had noticed the Careys’”
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77271 ***