Chapter 22

by Jane Austen

　　Marianne, who had never much toleration for anything like impertinence, vulgarity, inferiority of parts,or even difference of taste from herself, was atthis time particularly ill-disposed, from the stateof her spirits, to be pleased with the Miss Steeles,or to encourage their advances; and to the invariablecoldness of her behaviour towards them, which checked everyendeavour at intimacy on their side, Elinor principallyattributed that preference of herself which soon becameevident in the manners of both, but especially of Lucy,who missed no opportunity of engaging her in conversation,or of striving to improve their acquaintance by an easyand frank communication of her sentiments.Lucy was naturally clever; her remarks were oftenjust and amusing; and as a companion for half an hourElinor frequently found her agreeable; but her powershad received no aid from education: she was ignorantand illiterate; and her deficiency of all mental improvement,her want of information in the most common particulars,could not be concealed from Miss Dashwood, in spite of herconstant endeavour to appear to advantage. Elinor saw,and pitied her for, the neglect of abilities which educationmight have rendered so respectable; but she saw, with lesstenderness of feeling, the thorough want of delicacy,of rectitude, and integrity of mind, which her attentions,her assiduities, her flatteries at the Park betrayed;and she could have no lasting satisfaction in the companyof a person who joined insincerity with ignorance;whose want of instruction prevented their meetingin conversation on terms of equality, and whose conducttoward others made every shew of attention and deferencetowards herself perfectly valueless."You will think my question an odd one, I dare say,"said Lucy to her one day, as they were walking togetherfrom the park to the cottage--"but pray, are youpersonally acquainted with your sister-in-law's mother,Mrs. Ferrars?"Elinor did think the question a very odd one,and her countenance expressed it, as she answered that shehad never seen Mrs. Ferrars."Indeed!" replied Lucy; "I wonder at that, for Ithought you must have seen her at Norland sometimes.Then, perhaps, you cannot tell me what sort of a womanshe is?""No," returned Elinor, cautious of giving her realopinion of Edward's mother, and not very desirousof satisfying what seemed impertinent curiosity--"I know nothing of her.""I am sure you think me very strange, for enquiringabout her in such a way," said Lucy, eyeing Elinor attentivelyas she spoke; "but perhaps there may be reasons--I wishI might venture; but however I hope you will do me the justiceof believing that I do not mean to be impertinent."Elinor made her a civil reply, and they walked onfor a few minutes in silence. It was broken by Lucy,who renewed the subject again by saying, with somehesitation,"I cannot bear to have you think me impertinently curious.I am sure I would rather do any thing in the world than bethought so by a person whose good opinion is so well worthhaving as yours. And I am sure I should not have the smallestfear of trusting you; indeed, I should be very glad of youradvice how to manage in such and uncomfortable situationas I am; but, however, there is no occasion to trouble you.I am sorry you do not happen to know Mrs. Ferrars.""I am sorry I do not," said Elinor, in great astonishment,"if it could be of any use to you to know my opinion of her.But really I never understood that you were at all connectedwith that family, and therefore I am a little surprised,I confess, at so serious an inquiry into her character.""I dare say you are, and I am sure I do not at allwonder at it. But if I dared tell you all, you would not beso much surprised. Mrs. Ferrars is certainly nothing to meat present--but the time may come--how soon it will comemust depend upon herself--when we may be very intimatelyconnected."She looked down as she said this, amiably bashful,with only one side glance at her companion to observe itseffect on her."Good heavens!" cried Elinor, "what do you mean?Are you acquainted with Mr. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?"And she did not feel much delighted with the idea of sucha sister-in-law."No," replied Lucy, "not to Mr. Robert Ferrars--Inever saw him in my life; but," fixing her eyes upon Elinor,"to his eldest brother."What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment,that would have been as painful as it was strong, had notan immediate disbelief of the assertion attended it.She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement, unable to divinethe reason or object of such a declaration; and thoughher complexion varied, she stood firm in incredulity,and felt in no danger of an hysterical fit, or a swoon."You may well be surprised," continued Lucy;"for to be sure you could have had no idea of it before;for I dare say he never dropped the smallest hint of itto you or any of your family; because it was always meantto be a great secret, and I am sure has been faithfullykept so by me to this hour. Not a soul of all my relationsknow of it but Anne, and I never should have mentionedit to you, if I had not felt the greatest dependencein the world upon your secrecy; and I really thought mybehaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. Ferrarsmust seem so odd, that it ought to be explained.And I do not think Mr. Ferrars can be displeased,when he knows I have trusted you, because I know he hasthe highest opinion in the world of all your family,and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods quiteas his own sisters."--She paused.Elinor for a few moments remained silent.Her astonishment at what she heard was at first toogreat for words; but at length forcing herself to speak,and to speak cautiously, she said, with calmness of manner,which tolerably well concealed her surprise and solicitude--"May I ask if your engagement is of long standing?""We have been engaged these four years.""Four years!""Yes."Elinor, though greatly shocked, still felt unableto believe it."I did not know," said she, "that you were evenacquainted till the other day.""Our acquaintance, however, is of many years date.He was under my uncle's care, you know, a considerable while.""Your uncle!""Yes; Mr. Pratt. Did you never hear him talkof Mr. Pratt?""I think I have," replied Elinor, with an exertionof spirits, which increased with her increase of emotion."He was four years with my uncle, who lives at Longstaple,near Plymouth. It was there our acquaintance begun,for my sister and me was often staying with my uncle,and it was there our engagement was formed, though not tilla year after he had quitted as a pupil; but he was almostalways with us afterwards. I was very unwilling to enterinto it, as you may imagine, without the knowledge andapprobation of his mother; but I was too young, and lovedhim too well, to be so prudent as I ought to have been.--Though you do not know him so well as me, Miss Dashwood,you must have seen enough of him to be sensible he isvery capable of making a woman sincerely attached to him.""Certainly," answered Elinor, without knowing whatshe said; but after a moment's reflection, she added,with revived security of Edward's honour and love,and her companion's falsehood--"Engaged to Mr. EdwardFerrars!--I confess myself so totally surprised atwhat you tell me, that really--I beg your pardon;but surely there must be some mistake of person or name.We cannot mean the same Mr. Ferrars.""We can mean no other," cried Lucy, smiling. "Mr. EdwardFerrars, the eldest son of Mrs. Ferrars, of Park Street,and brother of your sister-in-law, Mrs. John Dashwood,is the person I mean; you must allow that I am not likelyto be deceived as to the name of the man on who all my happinessdepends.""It is strange," replied Elinor, in a most painful perplexity,"that I should never have heard him even mention your name.""No; considering our situation, it was not strange.Our first care has been to keep the matter secret.--You knew nothing of me, or my family, and, therefore,there could be no occasion for ever mentioning my nameto you; and, as he was always particularly afraid of hissister's suspecting any thing, that was reason enoughfor his not mentioning it."She was silent.--Elinor's security sunk; but herself-command did not sink with it."Four years you have been engaged," said shewith a firm voice."Yes; and heaven knows how much longer we may haveto wait. Poor Edward! It puts him quite out of heart."Then taking a small miniature from her pocket, she added,"To prevent the possibility of mistake, be so good as to lookat this face. It does not do him justice, to be sure,but yet I think you cannot be deceived as to the personit was drew for.--I have had it above these three years."She put it into her hands as she spoke; and when Elinorsaw the painting, whatever other doubts her fear of atoo hasty decision, or her wish of detecting falsehoodmight suffer to linger in her mind, she could have none ofits being Edward's face. She returned it almost instantly,acknowledging the likeness."I have never been able," continued Lucy, "to givehim my picture in return, which I am very much vexed at,for he has been always so anxious to get it! But I amdetermined to set for it the very first opportunity.""You are quite in the right," replied Elinor calmly.They then proceeded a few paces in silence. Lucy spoke first."I am sure," said she, "I have no doubt in the worldof your faithfully keeping this secret, because you mustknow of what importance it is to us, not to have it reachhis mother; for she would never approve of it, I dare say.I shall have no fortune, and I fancy she is an exceedingproud woman.""I certainly did not seek your confidence," said Elinor;"but you do me no more than justice in imagining that Imay be depended on. Your secret is safe with me;but pardon me if I express some surprise at so unnecessarya communication. You must at least have felt that mybeing acquainted with it could not add to its safety."As she said this, she looked earnestly at Lucy,hoping to discover something in her countenance; perhaps thefalsehood of the greatest part of what she had been saying;but Lucy's countenance suffered no change."I was afraid you would think I was taking a greatliberty with you," said she, "in telling you all this.I have not known you long to be sure, personally at least,but I have known you and all your family by descriptiona great while; and as soon as I saw you, I felt almost as ifyou was an old acquaintance. Besides in the present case,I really thought some explanation was due to you after mymaking such particular inquiries about Edward's mother;and I am so unfortunate, that I have not a creature whoseadvice I can ask. Anne is the only person that knows of it,and she has no judgment at all; indeed, she does me a greatdeal more harm than good, for I am in constant fear of herbetraying me. She does not know how to hold her tongue,as you must perceive, and I am sure I was in the greatestfright in the world t'other day, when Edward's name wasmentioned by Sir John, lest she should out with it all.You can't think how much I go through in my mind fromit altogether. I only wonder that I am alive after whatI have suffered for Edward's sake these last four years.Every thing in such suspense and uncertainty; and seeinghim so seldom--we can hardly meet above twice a-year.I am sure I wonder my heart is not quite broke."Here she took out her handkerchief; but Elinor didnot feel very compassionate."Sometimes." continued Lucy, after wiping her eyes,"I think whether it would not be better for us bothto break off the matter entirely." As she said this,she looked directly at her companion. "But thenat other times I have not resolution enough for it.--I cannot bear the thoughts of making him so miserable,as I know the very mention of such a thing would do.And on my own account too--so dear as he is to me--I don'tthink I could be equal to it. What would you adviseme to do in such a case, Miss Dashwood? What would youdo yourself?""Pardon me," replied Elinor, startled by the question;"but I can give you no advice under such circumstances.Your own judgment must direct you.""To be sure," continued Lucy, after a few minutessilence on both sides, "his mother must provide for himsometime or other; but poor Edward is so cast down by it!Did you not think him dreadful low-spirited when he was atBarton? He was so miserable when he left us at Longstaple,to go to you, that I was afraid you would think him quite ill.""Did he come from your uncle's, then, when he visited us?""Oh, yes; he had been staying a fortnight with us.Did you think he came directly from town?""No," replied Elinor, most feelingly sensible ofevery fresh circumstance in favour of Lucy's veracity;"I remember he told us, that he had been stayinga fortnight with some friends near Plymouth."She remembered too, her own surprise at the time,at his mentioning nothing farther of those friends,at his total silence with respect even to their names."Did not you think him sadly out of spirits?"repeated Lucy."We did, indeed, particularly so when he first arrived.""I begged him to exert himself for fear youshould suspect what was the matter; but it made himso melancholy, not being able to stay more than afortnight with us, and seeing me so much affected.--Poor fellow!--I am afraid it is just the same with him now;for he writes in wretched spirits. I heard from him justbefore I left Exeter;" taking a letter from her pocketand carelessly showing the direction to Elinor."You know his hand, I dare say, a charming one it is;but that is not written so well as usual.--He was tired,I dare say, for he had just filled the sheet to me as fullas possible."Elinor saw that it was his hand, and she could doubtno longer. This picture, she had allowed herself to believe,might have been accidentally obtained; it might not havebeen Edward's gift; but a correspondence between themby letter, could subsist only under a positive engagement,could be authorised by nothing else; for a few moments, shewas almost overcome--her heart sunk within her, and she couldhardly stand; but exertion was indispensably necessary;and she struggled so resolutely against the oppressionof her feelings, that her success was speedy, and forthe time complete."Writing to each other," said Lucy, returning theletter into her pocket, "is the only comfort we havein such long separations. Yes, I have one other comfortin his picture, but poor Edward has not even that.If he had but my picture, he says he should be easy.I gave him a lock of my hair set in a ring when he was atLongstaple last, and that was some comfort to him, he said,but not equal to a picture. Perhaps you might noticethe ring when you saw him?""I did," said Elinor, with a composure of voice,under which was concealed an emotion and distress beyondany thing she had ever felt before. She was mortified,shocked, confounded.Fortunately for her, they had now reached the cottage,and the conversation could be continued no farther.After sitting with them a few minutes, the Miss Steelesreturned to the Park, and Elinor was then at libertyto think and be wretched.[At this point in the first and second editions, Volume 1 ends.]