Sense and Sensibility
Mrs. Ferrars, a very good-natured woman, I am sure it would give her
great pleasure; she said as much the other day.”
Elinor would not vouchsafe any answer.
“It would be something remarkable, now,” he continued, “something
droll, if Fanny should have a brother and I a sister settling at the
same time. And yet it is not very unlikely.”
“Is Mr. Edward Ferrars,” said Elinor, with resolution, “going to be
married?”
“It is not actually settled, but there is such a thing in agitation. He
has a most excellent mother. Mrs. Ferrars, with the utmost liberality,
will come forward, and settle on him a thousand a year, if the match
takes place. The lady is the Hon. Miss Morton, only daughter of the
late Lord Morton, with thirty thousand pounds. A very desirable
connection on both sides, and I have not a doubt of its taking place in
time. A thousand a-year is a great deal for a mother to give away, to
make over for ever; but Mrs. Ferrars has a noble spirit. To give you
another instance of her liberality:—The other day, as soon as we came
to town, aware that money could not be very plenty with us just now,
she put bank-notes into Fanny’s hands to the amount of two hundred
pounds. And extremely acceptable it is, for we must live at a great
expense while we are here.”
He paused for her assent and compassion; and she forced herself to say,
“Your expenses both in town and country must certainly be considerable;
but your income is a large one.”
“Not so large, I dare say, as many people suppose. I do not mean to
complain, however; it is undoubtedly a comfortable one, and I hope will
in time be better. The enclosure of Norland Common, now carrying on, is
a most serious drain. And then I have made a little purchase within
this half year; East Kingham Farm, you must remember the place, where
old Gibson used to live. The land was so very desirable for me in every
respect, so immediately adjoining my own property, that I felt it my
duty to buy it. I could not have answered it to my conscience to let it
fall into any other hands. A man must pay for his convenience; and it
_has_ cost me a vast deal of money.”
“More than you think it really and intrinsically worth.”
“Why, I hope not that. I might have sold it again, the next day, for
more than I gave: but, with regard to the purchase-money, I might have
been very unfortunate indeed; for the stocks were at that time so low,
that if I had not happened to have the necessary sum in my banker’s
hands, I must have sold out to very great loss.”
Elinor could only smile.
“Other great and inevitable expenses too we have had on first coming to
Norland. Our respected father, as you well know, bequeathed all the
Stanhill effects that remained at Norland (and very valuable they were)
to your mother. Far be it from me to repine at his doing so; he had an
undoubted right to dispose of his own property as he chose, but, in
consequence of it, we have been obliged to make large purchases of
linen, china, &c. to supply the place of what was taken away. You may
guess, after all these expenses, how very far we must be from being
rich, and how acceptable Mrs. Ferrars’s kindness is.”
“Certainly,” said Elinor; “and assisted by her liberality, I hope you
may yet live to be in easy circumstances.”
“Another year or two may do much towards it,” he gravely replied; “but
however there is still a great deal to be done. There is not a stone
laid of Fanny’s green-house, and nothing but the plan of the
flower-garden marked out.”
“Where is the green-house to be?”
“Upon the knoll behind the house. The old walnut trees are all come
down to make room for it. It will be a very fine object from many parts
of the park, and the flower-garden will slope down just before it, and
be exceedingly pretty. We have cleared away all the old thorns that
grew in patches over the brow.”
Elinor kept her concern and her censure to herself; and was very
thankful that Marianne was not present, to share the provocation.
Having now said enough to make his poverty clear, and to do away the
necessity of buying a pair of ear-rings for each of his sisters, in his
next visit at Gray’s, his thoughts took a cheerfuller turn, and he
began to congratulate Elinor on having such a friend as Mrs. Jennings.
“She seems a most valuable woman indeed. Her house, her style of
living, all bespeak an exceeding good income; and it is an acquaintance
that has not only been of great use to you hitherto, but in the end may
prove materially advantageous. Her inviting you to town is certainly a
vast thing in your favour; and indeed, it speaks altogether so great a
regard for you, that in all probability when she dies you will not be
forgotten. She must have a great deal to leave.”
“Nothing at all, I should rather suppose; for she has only her
jointure, which will descend to her children.”
“But it is not to be imagined that she lives up to her income. Few
people of common prudence will do _that_ and whatever she saves, she
will be able to dispose of.”
“And do you not think it more likely that she should leave it to her
daughters, than to us?”
“Her daughters are both exceedingly well married, and therefore I
cannot perceive the necessity of her remembering them farther. Whereas,
in my opinion, by her taking so much notice of you, and treating you in
this kind of way, she has given you a sort of claim on her future
consideration, which a conscientious woman would not disregard. Nothing
can be kinder than her behaviour; and she can hardly do all this,
without being aware of the expectation it raises.”
“But she raises none in those most concerned. Indeed, brother, your
anxiety for our welfare and prosperity carries you too far.”
“Why, to be sure,” said he, seeming to recollect himself, “people have
little, have very little in their power. But, my dear Elinor, what is
the matter with Marianne?—she looks very unwell, has lost her colour,
and is grown quite thin. Is she ill?”
“She is not well, she has had a nervous complaint on her for several
weeks.”
“I am sorry for that. At her time of life, any thing of an illness
destroys the bloom for ever! Hers has been a very short one! She was as
handsome a girl last September, as I ever saw; and as likely to attract
the man. There was something in her style of beauty, to please them
particularly. I remember Fanny used to say that she would marry sooner
and better than you did; not but what she is exceedingly fond of _you_,
but so it happened to strike her. She will be mistaken, however. I
question whether Marianne _now_, will marry a man worth more than five
or six hundred a-year, at the utmost, and I am very much deceived if
_you_ do not do better. Dorsetshire! I know very little of Dorsetshire;
but, my dear Elinor, I shall be exceedingly glad to know more of it;
and I think I can answer for your having Fanny and myself among the
earliest and best pleased of your visitors.”
Elinor tried very seriously to convince him that there was no
likelihood of her marrying Colonel Brandon; but it was an expectation
of too much pleasure to himself to be relinquished, and he was really
resolved on seeking an intimacy with that gentleman, and promoting the
marriage by every possible attention. He had just compunction enough
for having done nothing for his sisters himself, to be exceedingly
anxious that everybody else should do a great deal; and an offer from
Colonel Brandon, or a legacy from Mrs. Jennings, was the easiest means
of atoning for his own neglect.
They were lucky enough to find Lady Middleton at home, and Sir John
came in before their visit ended. Abundance of civilities passed on all
sides. Sir John was ready to like anybody, and though Mr. Dashwood did
not seem to know much about horses, he soon set him down as a very
good-natured fellow: while Lady Middleton saw enough of fashion in his
appearance to think his acquaintance worth having; and Mr. Dashwood
went away delighted with both.
“I shall have a charming account to carry to Fanny,” said he, as he
walked back with his sister. “Lady Middleton is really a most elegant
woman! Such a woman as I am sure Fanny will be glad to know. And Mrs.
Jennings too, an exceedingly well-behaved woman, though not so elegant
as her daughter. Your sister need not have any scruple even of visiting
_her_, which, to say the truth, has been a little the case, and very
naturally; for we only knew that Mrs. Jennings was the widow of a man
who had got all his money in a low way; and Fanny and Mrs. Ferrars were
both strongly prepossessed, that neither she nor her daughters were
such kind of women as Fanny would like to associate with. But now I can
carry her a most satisfactory account of both.”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Mrs. John Dashwood had so much confidence in her husband’s judgment,
that she waited the very next day both on Mrs. Jennings and her
daughter; and her confidence was rewarded by finding even the former,
even the woman with whom her sisters were staying, by no means unworthy
her notice; and as for Lady Middleton, she found her one of the most
charming women in the world!
Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. Dashwood. There was a kind
of cold hearted selfishness on both sides, which mutually attracted
them; and they sympathised with each other in an insipid propriety of
demeanor, and a general want of understanding.
The same manners, however, which recommended Mrs. John Dashwood to the
good opinion of Lady Middleton did not suit the fancy of Mrs. Jennings,
and to _her_ she appeared nothing more than a little proud-looking
woman of uncordial address, who met her husband’s sisters without any
affection, and almost without having anything to say to them; for of
the quarter of an hour bestowed on Berkeley Street, she sat at least
seven minutes and a half in silence.
Elinor wanted very much to know, though she did not chuse to ask,
whether Edward was then in town; but nothing would have induced Fanny
voluntarily to mention his name before her, till able to tell her that
his marriage with Miss Morton was resolved on, or till her husband’s
expectations on Colonel Brandon were answered; because she believed
them still so very much attached to each other, that they could not be
too sedulously divided in word and deed on every occasion. The
intelligence however, which _she_ would not give, soon flowed from
another quarter. Lucy came very shortly to claim Elinor’s compassion on
being unable to see Edward, though he had arrived in town with Mr. and
Mrs. Dashwood. He dared not come to Bartlett’s Buildings for fear of
detection, and though their mutual impatience to meet, was not to be
told, they could do nothing at present but write.
Edward assured them himself of his being in town, within a very short
time, by twice calling in Berkeley Street. Twice was his card found on
the table, when they returned from their morning’s engagements. Elinor
was pleased that he had called; and still more pleased that she had
missed him.
The Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted with the Middletons, that,
though not much in the habit of giving anything, they determined to
give them—a dinner; and soon after their acquaintance began, invited
them to dine in Harley Street, where they had taken a very good house
for three months. Their sisters and Mrs. Jennings were invited
likewise, and John Dashwood was careful to secure Colonel Brandon, who,
always glad to be where the Miss Dashwoods were, received his eager
civilities with some surprise, but much more pleasure. They were to
meet Mrs. Ferrars; but Elinor could not learn whether her sons were to
be of the party. The expectation of seeing _her_, however, was enough
to make her interested in the engagement; for though she could now meet