Kabanata Kabanata 20 · As the Miss Dashwoods entered the drawing-room of the park the next

. As the Miss Dashwoods entered the drawing-room of the park the next

day, at one door, Mrs. Palmer came running in at the other, looking as

good humoured and merry as before. She took them all most

affectionately by the hand, and expressed great delight in seeing them

again.

“I am so glad to see you!” said she, seating herself between Elinor and

Marianne, “for it is so bad a day I was afraid you might not come,

which would be a shocking thing, as we go away again tomorrow. We must

go, for the Westons come to us next week you know. It was quite a

sudden thing our coming at all, and I knew nothing of it till the

carriage was coming to the door, and then Mr. Palmer asked me if I

would go with him to Barton. He is so droll! He never tells me any

thing! I am so sorry we cannot stay longer; however we shall meet again

in town very soon, I hope.”

They were obliged to put an end to such an expectation.

“Not go to town!” cried Mrs. Palmer, with a laugh, “I shall be quite

disappointed if you do not. I could get the nicest house in the world

for you, next door to ours, in Hanover-square. You must come, indeed. I

am sure I shall be very happy to chaperon you at any time till I am

confined, if Mrs. Dashwood should not like to go into public.”

They thanked her; but were obliged to resist all her entreaties.

“Oh, my love,” cried Mrs. Palmer to her husband, who just then entered

the room—“you must help me to persuade the Miss Dashwoods to go to town

this winter.”

Her love made no answer; and after slightly bowing to the ladies, began

complaining of the weather.

“How horrid all this is!” said he. “Such weather makes every thing and

every body disgusting. Dullness is as much produced within doors as

without, by rain. It makes one detest all one’s acquaintance. What the

devil does Sir John mean by not having a billiard room in his house?

How few people know what comfort is! Sir John is as stupid as the

weather.”

The rest of the company soon dropt in.

“I am afraid, Miss Marianne,” said Sir John, “you have not been able to

take your usual walk to Allenham today.”

Marianne looked very grave and said nothing.

“Oh, don’t be so sly before us,” said Mrs. Palmer; “for we know all

about it, I assure you; and I admire your taste very much, for I think

he is extremely handsome. We do not live a great way from him in the

country, you know. Not above ten miles, I dare say.”

“Much nearer thirty,” said her husband.

“Ah, well! there is not much difference. I never was at his house; but

they say it is a sweet pretty place.”

“As vile a spot as I ever saw in my life,” said Mr. Palmer.

Marianne remained perfectly silent, though her countenance betrayed her

interest in what was said.

“Is it very ugly?” continued Mrs. Palmer—“then it must be some other

place that is so pretty I suppose.”

When they were seated in the dining room, Sir John observed with regret

that they were only eight all together.

“My dear,” said he to his lady, “it is very provoking that we should be

so few. Why did not you ask the Gilberts to come to us today?”

“Did not I tell you, Sir John, when you spoke to me about it before,

that it could not be done? They dined with us last.”

“You and I, Sir John,” said Mrs. Jennings, “should not stand upon such

ceremony.”

“Then you would be very ill-bred,” cried Mr. Palmer.

“My love you contradict every body,” said his wife with her usual

laugh. “Do you know that you are quite rude?”

“I did not know I contradicted any body in calling your mother

ill-bred.”

“Ay, you may abuse me as you please,” said the good-natured old lady,

“you have taken Charlotte off my hands, and cannot give her back again.

So there I have the whip hand of you.”

Charlotte laughed heartily to think that her husband could not get rid

of her; and exultingly said, she did not care how cross he was to her,

as they must live together. It was impossible for any one to be more

thoroughly good-natured, or more determined to be happy than Mrs.

Palmer. The studied indifference, insolence, and discontent of her

husband gave her no pain; and when he scolded or abused her, she was

highly diverted.

“Mr. Palmer is so droll!” said she, in a whisper, to Elinor. “He is

always out of humour.”

Elinor was not inclined, after a little observation, to give him credit

for being so genuinely and unaffectedly ill-natured or ill-bred as he

wished to appear. His temper might perhaps be a little soured by

finding, like many others of his sex, that through some unaccountable

bias in favour of beauty, he was the husband of a very silly woman—but

she knew that this kind of blunder was too common for any sensible man

to be lastingly hurt by it. It was rather a wish of distinction, she

believed, which produced his contemptuous treatment of every body, and

his general abuse of every thing before him. It was the desire of

appearing superior to other people. The motive was too common to be

wondered at; but the means, however they might succeed by establishing

his superiority in ill-breeding, were not likely to attach any one to

him except his wife.

“Oh, my dear Miss Dashwood,” said Mrs. Palmer soon afterwards, “I have

got such a favour to ask of you and your sister. Will you come and

spend some time at Cleveland this Christmas? Now, pray do,—and come

while the Westons are with us. You cannot think how happy I shall be!

It will be quite delightful!—My love,” applying to her husband, “don’t

you long to have the Miss Dashwoods come to Cleveland?”

“Certainly,” he replied, with a sneer—“I came into Devonshire with no

other view.”

“There now,”—said his lady, “you see Mr. Palmer expects you; so you

cannot refuse to come.”

They both eagerly and resolutely declined her invitation.

“But indeed you must and shall come. I am sure you will like it of all

things. The Westons will be with us, and it will be quite delightful.

You cannot think what a sweet place Cleveland is; and we are so gay

now, for Mr. Palmer is always going about the country canvassing

against the election; and so many people came to dine with us that I

never saw before, it is quite charming! But, poor fellow! it is very

fatiguing to him! for he is forced to make every body like him.”

Elinor could hardly keep her countenance as she assented to the

hardship of such an obligation.

“How charming it will be,” said Charlotte, “when he is in

Parliament!—won’t it? How I shall laugh! It will be so ridiculous to

see all his letters directed to him with an M.P.—But do you know, he

says, he will never frank for me? He declares he won’t. Don’t you, Mr.

Palmer?”

Mr. Palmer took no notice of her.

“He cannot bear writing, you know,” she continued—“he says it is quite

shocking.”

“No,” said he, “I never said any thing so irrational. Don’t palm all

your abuses of language upon me.”

“There now; you see how droll he is. This is always the way with him!

Sometimes he won’t speak to me for half a day together, and then he

comes out with something so droll—all about any thing in the world.”

She surprised Elinor very much as they returned into the drawing-room,

by asking her whether she did not like Mr. Palmer excessively.

“Certainly,” said Elinor; “he seems very agreeable.”

“Well—I am so glad you do. I thought you would, he is so pleasant; and

Mr. Palmer is excessively pleased with you and your sisters I can tell

you, and you can’t think how disappointed he will be if you don’t come

to Cleveland.—I can’t imagine why you should object to it.”

Elinor was again obliged to decline her invitation; and by changing the

subject, put a stop to her entreaties. She thought it probable that as

they lived in the same county, Mrs. Palmer might be able to give some

more particular account of Willoughby’s general character, than could

be gathered from the Middletons’ partial acquaintance with him; and she

was eager to gain from any one, such a confirmation of his merits as

might remove the possibility of fear from Marianne. She began by

inquiring if they saw much of Mr. Willoughby at Cleveland, and whether

they were intimately acquainted with him.

“Oh dear, yes; I know him extremely well,” replied Mrs. Palmer;—“Not

that I ever spoke to him, indeed; but I have seen him for ever in town.

Somehow or other I never happened to be staying at Barton while he was

at Allenham. Mama saw him here once before;—but I was with my uncle at

Weymouth. However, I dare say we should have seen a great deal of him

in Somersetshire, if it had not happened very unluckily that we should

never have been in the country together. He is very little at Combe, I

believe; but if he were ever so much there, I do not think Mr. Palmer

would visit him, for he is in the opposition, you know, and besides it

is such a way off. I know why you inquire about him, very well; your

sister is to marry him. I am monstrous glad of it, for then I shall

have her for a neighbour you know.”

“Upon my word,” replied Elinor, “you know much more of the matter than

I do, if you have any reason to expect such a match.”

“Don’t pretend to deny it, because you know it is what every body talks

of. I assure you I heard of it in my way through town.”

“My dear Mrs. Palmer!”

“Upon my honour I did.—I met Colonel Brandon Monday morning in

Bond-street, just before we left town, and he told me of it directly.”

“You surprise me very much. Colonel Brandon tell you of it! Surely you

must be mistaken. To give such intelligence to a person who could not

be interested in it, even if it were true, is not what I should expect

Colonel Brandon to do.”

“But I do assure you it was so, for all that, and I will tell you how

it happened. When we met him, he turned back and walked with us; and so

we began talking of my brother and sister, and one thing and another,

and I said to him, ‘So, Colonel, there is a new family come to Barton

cottage, I hear, and mama sends me word they are very pretty, and that

one of them is going to be married to Mr. Willoughby of Combe Magna. Is

it true, pray? for of course you must know, as you have been in

Devonshire so lately.’”

“And what did the Colonel say?”

“Oh—he did not say much; but he looked as if he knew it to be true, so

from that moment I set it down as certain. It will be quite delightful,

I declare! When is it to take place?”

“Mr. Brandon was very well I hope?”

“Oh! yes, quite well; and so full of your praises, he did nothing but

say fine things of you.”

“I am flattered by his commendation. He seems an excellent man; and I

think him uncommonly pleasing.”

“So do I. He is such a charming man, that it is quite a pity he should

be so grave and so dull. Mama says _he_ was in love with your sister

too. I assure you it was a great compliment if he was, for he hardly

ever falls in love with any body.”

“Is Mr. Willoughby much known in your part of Somersetshire?” said

Elinor.

“Oh! yes, extremely well; that is, I do not believe many people are

acquainted with him, because Combe Magna is so far off; but they all

think him extremely agreeable I assure you. Nobody is more liked than

Mr. Willoughby wherever he goes, and so you may tell your sister. She

is a monstrous lucky girl to get him, upon my honour; not but that he

is much more lucky in getting her, because she is so very handsome and

agreeable, that nothing can be good enough for her. However, I don’t

think her hardly at all handsomer than you, I assure you; for I think

you both excessively pretty, and so does Mr. Palmer too I am sure,

though we could not get him to own it last night.”

Mrs. Palmer’s information respecting Willoughby was not very material;

but any testimony in his favour, however small, was pleasing to her.

“I am so glad we are got acquainted at last,” continued Charlotte.—“And

now I hope we shall always be great friends. You can’t think how much I

longed to see you! It is so delightful that you should live at the

cottage! Nothing can be like it, to be sure! And I am so glad your

sister is going to be well married! I hope you will be a great deal at

Combe Magna. It is a sweet place, by all accounts.”

“You have been long acquainted with Colonel Brandon, have not you?”

“Yes, a great while; ever since my sister married. He was a particular

friend of Sir John’s. I believe,” she added in a low voice, “he would

have been very glad to have had me, if he could. Sir John and Lady

Middleton wished it very much. But mama did not think the match good

enough for me, otherwise Sir John would have mentioned it to the

Colonel, and we should have been married immediately.”

“Did not Colonel Brandon know of Sir John’s proposal to your mother

before it was made? Had he never owned his affection to yourself?”

“Oh, no; but if mama had not objected to it, I dare say he would have

liked it of all things. He had not seen me then above twice, for it was

before I left school. However, I am much happier as I am. Mr. Palmer is

the kind of man I like.”