第 七 章 · Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. The ladies had

. Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. The ladies had

passed near it in their way along the valley, but it was screened from

their view at home by the projection of a hill. The house was large and

handsome; and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality and

elegance. The former was for Sir John’s gratification, the latter for

that of his lady. They were scarcely ever without some friends staying

with them in the house, and they kept more company of every kind than

any other family in the neighbourhood. It was necessary to the

happiness of both; for however dissimilar in temper and outward

behaviour, they strongly resembled each other in that total want of

talent and taste which confined their employments, unconnected with

such as society produced, within a very narrow compass. Sir John was a

sportsman, Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she

humoured her children; and these were their only resources. Lady

Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all the

year round, while Sir John’s independent employments were in existence

only half the time. Continual engagements at home and abroad, however,

supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education; supported the

good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise to the good breeding of his

wife.

Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance of her table, and of

all her domestic arrangements; and from this kind of vanity was her

greatest enjoyment in any of their parties. But Sir John’s satisfaction

in society was much more real; he delighted in collecting about him

more young people than his house would hold, and the noisier they were

the better was he pleased. He was a blessing to all the juvenile part

of the neighbourhood, for in summer he was for ever forming parties to

eat cold ham and chicken out of doors, and in winter his private balls

were numerous enough for any young lady who was not suffering under the

unsatiable appetite of fifteen.

The arrival of a new family in the country was always a matter of joy

to him, and in every point of view he was charmed with the inhabitants

he had now procured for his cottage at Barton. The Miss Dashwoods were

young, pretty, and unaffected. It was enough to secure his good

opinion; for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could want to

make her mind as captivating as her person. The friendliness of his

disposition made him happy in accommodating those, whose situation

might be considered, in comparison with the past, as unfortunate. In

showing kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction

of a good heart; and in settling a family of females only in his

cottage, he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman; for a sportsman,

though he esteems only those of his sex who are sportsmen likewise, is

not often desirous of encouraging their taste by admitting them to a

residence within his own manor.

Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door of the house by

Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton Park with unaffected sincerity;

and as he attended them to the drawing room repeated to the young

ladies the concern which the same subject had drawn from him the day

before, at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them. They

would see, he said, only one gentleman there besides himself; a

particular friend who was staying at the park, but who was neither very

young nor very gay. He hoped they would all excuse the smallness of the

party, and could assure them it should never happen so again. He had

been to several families that morning in hopes of procuring some

addition to their number, but it was moonlight and every body was full

of engagements. Luckily Lady Middleton’s mother had arrived at Barton

within the last hour, and as she was a very cheerful agreeable woman,

he hoped the young ladies would not find it so very dull as they might

imagine. The young ladies, as well as their mother, were perfectly

satisfied with having two entire strangers of the party, and wished for

no more.

Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton’s mother, was a good-humoured, merry,

fat, elderly woman, who talked a great deal, seemed very happy, and

rather vulgar. She was full of jokes and laughter, and before dinner

was over had said many witty things on the subject of lovers and

husbands; hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex,

and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not. Marianne was

vexed at it for her sister’s sake, and turned her eyes towards Elinor

to see how she bore these attacks, with an earnestness which gave

Elinor far more pain than could arise from such common-place raillery

as Mrs. Jennings’s.

Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no more adapted by

resemblance of manner to be his friend, than Lady Middleton was to be

his wife, or Mrs. Jennings to be Lady Middleton’s mother. He was silent

and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite of his

being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old bachelor,

for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty; but though his face

was not handsome, his countenance was sensible, and his address was

particularly gentlemanlike.

There was nothing in any of the party which could recommend them as

companions to the Dashwoods; but the cold insipidity of Lady Middleton

was so particularly repulsive, that in comparison of it the gravity of

Colonel Brandon, and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his

mother-in-law was interesting. Lady Middleton seemed to be roused to

enjoyment only by the entrance of her four noisy children after dinner,

who pulled her about, tore her clothes, and put an end to every kind of

discourse except what related to themselves.

In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, she was

invited to play. The instrument was unlocked, every body prepared to be

charmed, and Marianne, who sang very well, at their request went

through the chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into

the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had lain ever since in

the same position on the pianoforte, for her ladyship had celebrated

that event by giving up music, although by her mother’s account, she

had played extremely well, and by her own was very fond of it.

Marianne’s performance was highly applauded. Sir John was loud in his

admiration at the end of every song, and as loud in his conversation

with the others while every song lasted. Lady Middleton frequently

called him to order, wondered how any one’s attention could be diverted

from music for a moment, and asked Marianne to sing a particular song

which Marianne had just finished. Colonel Brandon alone, of all the

party, heard her without being in raptures. He paid her only the

compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him on the

occasion, which the others had reasonably forfeited by their shameless

want of taste. His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that

ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, was

estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of the

others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five and

thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and every

exquisite power of enjoyment. She was perfectly disposed to make every

allowance for the colonel’s advanced state of life which humanity

required.