Chapter 27

by Jane Austen

　　"If this open weather holds much longer," said Mrs. Jennings,when they met at breakfast the following morning,"Sir John will not like leaving Barton next week;'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a day's pleasure.Poor souls! I always pity them when they do; they seemto take it so much to heart.""That is true," cried Marianne, in a cheerful voice,and walking to the window as she spoke, to examine the day."I had not thought of that. This weather will keep manysportsmen in the country."It was a lucky recollection, all her good spirits wererestored by it. "It is charming weather for them indeed,"she continued, as she sat down to the breakfast tablewith a happy countenance. "How much they must enjoyit! But" (with a little return of anxiety) "it cannotbe expected to last long. At this time of the year,and after such a series of rain, we shall certainlyhave very little more of it. Frosts will soon set in,and in all probability with severity. In another dayor two perhaps; this extreme mildness can hardly lastlonger--nay, perhaps it may freeze tonight!""At any rate," said Elinor, wishing to preventMrs. Jennings from seeing her sister's thoughts as clearlyas she did, "I dare say we shall have Sir John and LadyMiddleton in town by the end of next week.""Ay, my dear, I'll warrant you we do. Mary alwayshas her own way.""And now," silently conjectured Elinor, "she willwrite to Combe by this day's post."But if she did, the letter was written and sent awaywith a privacy which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertainthe fact. Whatever the truth of it might be, and faras Elinor was from feeling thorough contentment about it,yet while she saw Marianne in spirits, she could not bevery uncomfortable herself. And Marianne was in spirits;happy in the mildness of the weather, and still happierin her expectation of a frost.The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards atthe houses of Mrs. Jennings's acquaintance to informthem of her being in town; and Marianne was all the timebusy in observing the direction of the wind, watching thevariations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the air."Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning,Elinor? There seems to me a very decided difference.I can hardly keep my hands warm even in my muff. It wasnot so yesterday, I think. The clouds seem parting too,the sun will be out in a moment, and we shall have aclear afternoon."Elinor was alternately diverted and pained;but Marianne persevered, and saw every night in thebrightness of the fire, and every morning in the appearanceof the atmosphere, the certain symptoms of approaching frost.The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to bedissatisfied with Mrs. Jennings's style of living, and setof acquaintance, than with her behaviour to themselves,which was invariably kind. Every thing in her householdarrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan,and excepting a few old city friends, whom, to LadyMiddleton's regret, she had never dropped, she visitedno one to whom an introduction could at all discomposethe feelings of her young companions. Pleased to findherself more comfortably situated in that particular thanshe had expected, Elinor was very willing to compoundfor the want of much real enjoyment from any of theirevening parties, which, whether at home or abroad,formed only for cards, could have little to amuse her.Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitationto the house, was with them almost every day; he cameto look at Marianne and talk to Elinor, who often derivedmore satisfaction from conversing with him than from anyother daily occurrence, but who saw at the same timewith much concern his continued regard for her sister.She feared it was a strengthening regard. It grieved herto see the earnestness with which he often watched Marianne,and his spirits were certainly worse than when at Barton.About a week after their arrival, it becamecertain that Willoughby was also arrived. His cardwas on the table when they came in from the morning's drive."Good God!" cried Marianne, "he has been here whilewe were out." Elinor, rejoiced to be assured of hisbeing in London, now ventured to say, "Depend upon it,he will call again tomorrow." But Marianne seemedhardly to hear her, and on Mrs. Jenning's entrance,escaped with the precious card.This event, while it raised the spirits of Elinor,restored to those of her sister all, and more than all,their former agitation. From this moment her mind wasnever quiet; the expectation of seeing him every hourof the day, made her unfit for any thing. She insistedon being left behind, the next morning, when the otherswent out.Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passingin Berkeley Street during their absence; but a moment'sglance at her sister when they returned was enough toinform her, that Willoughby had paid no second visit there.A note was just then brought in, and laid on the table,"For me!" cried Marianne, stepping hastily forward."No, ma'am, for my mistress."But Marianne, not convinced, took it instantly up."It is indeed for Mrs. Jennings; how provoking!""You are expecting a letter, then?" said Elinor,unable to be longer silent."Yes, a little--not much."After a short pause. "You have no confidencein me, Marianne.""Nay, Elinor, this reproach from you--you who haveconfidence in no one!""Me!" returned Elinor in some confusion; "indeed,Marianne, I have nothing to tell.""Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situationsthen are alike. We have neither of us any thing to tell;you, because you do not communicate, and I, becauseI conceal nothing."Elinor, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself,which she was not at liberty to do away, knew not how,under such circumstances, to press for greater opennessin Marianne.Mrs. Jennings soon appeared, and the note beinggiven her, she read it aloud. It was from Lady Middleton,announcing their arrival in Conduit Street the night before,and requesting the company of her mother and cousinsthe following evening. Business on Sir John's part,and a violent cold on her own, prevented their callingin Berkeley Street. The invitation was accepted;but when the hour of appointment drew near, necessary asit was in common civility to Mrs. Jennings, that theyshould both attend her on such a visit, Elinor had somedifficulty in persuading her sister to go, for stillshe had seen nothing of Willoughby; and therefore wasnot more indisposed for amusement abroad, than unwillingto run the risk of his calling again in her absence.Elinor found, when the evening was over,that disposition is not materially altered by a changeof abode, for although scarcely settled in town,Sir John had contrived to collect around him, nearly twentyyoung people, and to amuse them with a ball. This wasan affair, however, of which Lady Middleton did not approve.In the country, an unpremeditated dance was very allowable;but in London, where the reputation of elegance was moreimportant and less easily attained, it was risking too muchfor the gratification of a few girls, to have it known thatLady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine couple,with two violins, and a mere side-board collation.Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were of the party; from the former,whom they had not seen before since their arrival in town,as he was careful to avoid the appearance of any attentionto his mother-in-law, and therefore never came near her,they received no mark of recognition on their entrance.He looked at them slightly, without seeming to knowwho they were, and merely nodded to Mrs. Jennings fromthe other side of the room. Marianne gave one glanceround the apartment as she entered: it was enough--hewas not there--and she sat down, equally ill-disposedto receive or communicate pleasure. After they had beenassembled about an hour, Mr. Palmer sauntered towardsthe Miss Dashwoods to express his surprise on seeing themin town, though Colonel Brandon had been first informedof their arrival at his house, and he had himself saidsomething very droll on hearing that they were to come."I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he."Did you?" replied Elinor."When do you go back again?""I do not know." And thus ended their discourse.Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dancein her life, as she was that evening, and never so muchfatigued by the exercise. She complained of itas they returned to Berkeley Street."Aye, aye," said Mrs. Jennings, "we know the reasonof all that very well; if a certain person who shallbe nameless, had been there, you would not have been abit tired: and to say the truth it was not very prettyof him not to give you the meeting when he was invited.""Invited!" cried Marianne."So my daughter Middleton told me, for it seems SirJohn met him somewhere in the street this morning."Marianne said no more, but looked exceedingly hurt.Impatient in this situation to be doing somethingthat might lead to her sister's relief, Elinor resolvedto write the next morning to her mother, and hopedby awakening her fears for the health of Marianne,to procure those inquiries which had been so long delayed;and she was still more eagerly bent on this measureby perceiving after breakfast on the morrow, that Mariannewas again writing to Willoughby, for she could not supposeit to be to any other person.About the middle of the day, Mrs. Jennings went out byherself on business, and Elinor began her letter directly,while Marianne, too restless for employment, too anxiousfor conversation, walked from one window to the other,or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation.Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother,relating all that had passed, her suspicions ofWilloughby's inconstancy, urging her by every pleaof duty and affection to demand from Marianne an accountof her real situation with respect to him.Her letter was scarcely finished, when a rapforetold a visitor, and Colonel Brandon was announced.Marianne, who had seen him from the window, and who hatedcompany of any kind, left the room before he entered it.He looked more than usually grave, and though expressingsatisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone, as if hehad somewhat in particular to tell her, sat for sometime without saying a word. Elinor, persuaded that hehad some communication to make in which her sisterwas concerned, impatiently expected its opening.It was not the first time of her feeling the same kindof conviction; for, more than once before, beginning withthe observation of "your sister looks unwell to-day,"or "your sister seems out of spirits," he had appearedon the point, either of disclosing, or of inquiring,something particular about her. After a pause of severalminutes, their silence was broken, by his asking herin a voice of some agitation, when he was to congratulateher on the acquisition of a brother? Elinor was notprepared for such a question, and having no answer ready,was obliged to adopt the simple and common expedient,of asking what he meant? He tried to smile as he replied,"your sister's engagement to Mr. Willoughby is very generallyknown.""It cannot be generally known," returned Elinor,"for her own family do not know it."He looked surprised and said, "I beg your pardon,I am afraid my inquiry has been impertinent; but I had notsupposed any secrecy intended, as they openly correspond,and their marriage is universally talked of.""How can that be? By whom can you have heardit mentioned?""By many--by some of whom you know nothing, by otherswith whom you are most intimate, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer,and the Middletons. But still I might not have believed it,for where the mind is perhaps rather unwilling tobe convinced, it will always find something to supportits doubts, if I had not, when the servant let me in today,accidentally seen a letter in his hand, directed toMr. Willoughby in your sister's writing. I came to inquire,but I was convinced before I could ask the question.Is every thing finally settled? Is it impossible to-?But I have no right, and I could have no chance of succeeding.Excuse me, Miss Dashwood. I believe I have been wrongin saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and onyour prudence I have the strongest dependence. Tell methat it is all absolutely resolved on, that any attempt,that in short concealment, if concealment be possible,is all that remains."These words, which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowalof his love for her sister, affected her very much.She was not immediately able to say anything, and evenwhen her spirits were recovered, she debated for a shorttime, on the answer it would be most proper to give.The real state of things between Willoughby and her sisterwas so little known to herself, that in endeavouringto explain it, she might be as liable to say too muchas too little. Yet as she was convinced that Marianne'saffection for Willoughby, could leave no hope of ColonelBrandon's success, whatever the event of that affectionmight be, and at the same time wished to shield her conductfrom censure, she thought it most prudent and kind,after some consideration, to say more than she really knewor believed. She acknowledged, therefore, that thoughshe had never been informed by themselves of the termson which they stood with each other, of their mutualaffection she had no doubt, and of their correspondenceshe was not astonished to hear.He listened to her with silent attention, and onher ceasing to speak, rose directly from his seat,and after saying in a voice of emotion, "to your sisterI wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that hemay endeavour to deserve her,"--took leave, and went away.Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from thisconversation, to lessen the uneasiness of her mind onother points; she was left, on the contrary, with amelancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's unhappiness,and was prevented even from wishing it removed,by her anxiety for the very event that must confirm it.