الفصل الفصل 33 · After some opposition, Marianne yielded to her sister’s entreaties, and

. After some opposition, Marianne yielded to her sister’s entreaties, and

consented to go out with her and Mrs. Jennings one morning for half an

hour. She expressly conditioned, however, for paying no visits, and

would do no more than accompany them to Gray’s in Sackville Street,

where Elinor was carrying on a negotiation for the exchange of a few

old-fashioned jewels of her mother.

When they stopped at the door, Mrs. Jennings recollected that there was

a lady at the other end of the street on whom she ought to call; and as

she had no business at Gray’s, it was resolved, that while her young

friends transacted their’s, she should pay her visit and return for

them.

On ascending the stairs, the Miss Dashwoods found so many people before

them in the room, that there was not a person at liberty to tend to

their orders; and they were obliged to wait. All that could be done

was, to sit down at that end of the counter which seemed to promise the

quickest succession; one gentleman only was standing there, and it is

probable that Elinor was not without hope of exciting his politeness to

a quicker despatch. But the correctness of his eye, and the delicacy of

his taste, proved to be beyond his politeness. He was giving orders for

a toothpick-case for himself, and till its size, shape, and ornaments

were determined, all of which, after examining and debating for a

quarter of an hour over every toothpick-case in the shop, were finally

arranged by his own inventive fancy, he had no leisure to bestow any

other attention on the two ladies, than what was comprised in three or

four very broad stares; a kind of notice which served to imprint on

Elinor the remembrance of a person and face, of strong, natural,

sterling insignificance, though adorned in the first style of fashion.

Marianne was spared from the troublesome feelings of contempt and

resentment, on this impertinent examination of their features, and on

the puppyism of his manner in deciding on all the different horrors of

the different toothpick-cases presented to his inspection, by remaining

unconscious of it all; for she was as well able to collect her thoughts

within herself, and be as ignorant of what was passing around her, in

Mr. Gray’s shop, as in her own bedroom.

At last the affair was decided. The ivory, the gold, and the pearls,

all received their appointment, and the gentleman having named the last

day on which his existence could be continued without the possession of

the toothpick-case, drew on his gloves with leisurely care, and

bestowing another glance on the Miss Dashwoods, but such a one as

seemed rather to demand than express admiration, walked off with a

happy air of real conceit and affected indifference.

Elinor lost no time in bringing her business forward, was on the point

of concluding it, when another gentleman presented himself at her side.

She turned her eyes towards his face, and found him with some surprise

to be her brother.

Their affection and pleasure in meeting was just enough to make a very

creditable appearance in Mr. Gray’s shop. John Dashwood was really far

from being sorry to see his sisters again; it rather gave them

satisfaction; and his inquiries after their mother were respectful and

attentive.

Elinor found that he and Fanny had been in town two days.

“I wished very much to call upon you yesterday,” said he, “but it was

impossible, for we were obliged to take Harry to see the wild beasts at

Exeter Exchange; and we spent the rest of the day with Mrs. Ferrars.

Harry was vastly pleased. _This_ morning I had fully intended to call

on you, if I could possibly find a spare half hour, but one has always

so much to do on first coming to town. I am come here to bespeak Fanny

a seal. But tomorrow I think I shall certainly be able to call in

Berkeley Street, and be introduced to your friend Mrs. Jennings. I

understand she is a woman of very good fortune. And the Middletons too,

you must introduce me to _them_. As my mother-in-law’s relations, I

shall be happy to show them every respect. They are excellent

neighbours to you in the country, I understand.”

“Excellent indeed. Their attention to our comfort, their friendliness

in every particular, is more than I can express.”

“I am extremely glad to hear it, upon my word; extremely glad indeed.

But so it ought to be; they are people of large fortune, they are

related to you, and every civility and accommodation that can serve to

make your situation pleasant might be reasonably expected. And so you

are most comfortably settled in your little cottage and want for

nothing! Edward brought us a most charming account of the place: the

most complete thing of its kind, he said, that ever was, and you all

seemed to enjoy it beyond any thing. It was a great satisfaction to us

to hear it, I assure you.”

Elinor did feel a little ashamed of her brother; and was not sorry to

be spared the necessity of answering him, by the arrival of Mrs.

Jennings’s servant, who came to tell her that his mistress waited for

them at the door.

Mr. Dashwood attended them down stairs, was introduced to Mrs. Jennings

at the door of her carriage, and repeating his hope of being able to

call on them the next day, took leave.

His visit was duly paid. He came with a pretence at an apology from

their sister-in-law, for not coming too; “but she was so much engaged

with her mother, that really she had no leisure for going any where.”

Mrs. Jennings, however, assured him directly, that she should not stand

upon ceremony, for they were all cousins, or something like it, and she

should certainly wait on Mrs. John Dashwood very soon, and bring her

sisters to see her. His manners to _them_, though calm, were perfectly

kind; to Mrs. Jennings, most attentively civil; and on Colonel

Brandon’s coming in soon after himself, he eyed him with a curiosity

which seemed to say, that he only wanted to know him to be rich, to be

equally civil to _him_.

After staying with them half an hour, he asked Elinor to walk with him

to Conduit Street, and introduce him to Sir John and Lady Middleton.

The weather was remarkably fine, and she readily consented. As soon as

they were out of the house, his enquiries began.

“Who is Colonel Brandon? Is he a man of fortune?”

“Yes; he has very good property in Dorsetshire.”

“I am glad of it. He seems a most gentlemanlike man; and I think,

Elinor, I may congratulate you on the prospect of a very respectable

establishment in life.”

“Me, brother! what do you mean?”

“He likes you. I observed him narrowly, and am convinced of it. What is

the amount of his fortune?”

“I believe about two thousand a year.”

“Two thousand a-year;” and then working himself up to a pitch of

enthusiastic generosity, he added, “Elinor, I wish with all my heart it

were _twice_ as much, for your sake.”

“Indeed I believe you,” replied Elinor; “but I am very sure that

Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish of marrying _me_.”

“You are mistaken, Elinor; you are very much mistaken. A very little

trouble on your side secures him. Perhaps just at present he may be

undecided; the smallness of your fortune may make him hang back; his

friends may all advise him against it. But some of those little

attentions and encouragements which ladies can so easily give will fix

him, in spite of himself. And there can be no reason why you should not

try for him. It is not to be supposed that any prior attachment on your

side—in short, you know as to an attachment of that kind, it is quite

out of the question, the objections are insurmountable—you have too

much sense not to see all that. Colonel Brandon must be the man; and no

civility shall be wanting on my part to make him pleased with you and

your family. It is a match that must give universal satisfaction. In

short, it is a kind of thing that”—lowering his voice to an important

whisper—“will be exceedingly welcome to _all parties_.” Recollecting

himself, however, he added, “That is, I mean to say—your friends are

all truly anxious to see you well settled; Fanny particularly, for she

has your interest very much at heart, I assure you. And her mother too,

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.”