Dear, dear Norland! said Marianne, as she wandered alone before the house, on the last evening; when shall I cease to regret you! Who will remain to enjoy you?
Chapter VI
As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact; but as a cottage it was defective, for the roof was tiled, the window shutters were not painted green, nor were the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly through the house into the garden behind. On each side of the entrance was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square; and beyond them were the offices and the stairs. Four bedrooms and two garrets formed the rest of the house. It had not been built many years and was in good repair. In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeed!
It was very early in September; the season was fine. The situation of the house was good. High hills rose immediately behind, and at no great distance on each side. The village of Barton was chiefly on one of these hills, and formed a pleasant view from the cottage windows. The hills surrounded the cottage.
With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. Dashwood was well satisfied.
As for the house itself, to be sure, said she, it is too small for our family, but we will live here for the present, as it is too late in the year for improvements. Perhaps in the spring, if I have plenty of money, we may think about building.
Soon after breakfast their landlord appeared. He came to welcome them to Barton, and to offer them every accommodation from his own house and garden. Sir John Middleton was a good looking man about forty. His countenance was thoroughly good-humoured; and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter. He invited them to dine at Barton Park everyday till they were settled at home. Within an hour after he left them, a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit arrived from the park.
Lady Middleton had sent a very civil message. Her ladyship was introduced to them the next day.
Lady Middleton was not more than six or seven and twenty; her face was handsome, her figure tall and striking. Her manners had all the elegance which her husbands wanted. Sir John was very chatty, and Lady Middleton brought with her their eldest child, a fine little boy about six years old. It took up ten minutes to determine whether the boy was most like his father or mother.
Sir John did not leave the house without their promise of dining at the park the next day.
Chapter VII
Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. The house was large and handsome; and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality and elegance. They were scarcely ever without some friends staying with them in the house. It was necessary to the happiness of both. Sir John was a sportsman, Lady Middleton was a mother. He hunted and shot, and she humoured her children; and these were their only resources. Continual engagements supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education; supported the good spirits of Sir John and his wife.
The arrival of a new family in the neighborhood was always a joy to Sir John. The young Dashwoods were really young, pretty, and unaffected. It was enough to secure his good opinion. He was happy to accommodate those, whose situation looked as unfortunate. In showing kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction of a good heart.
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. He was sorry to be unable to get any smart young men to meet them. They will see only one gentleman there besides himself; a particular friend who is staying at the park, but who is not very young. He hoped they will all excuse the smallness of the party, and assured them it will never happen so again. Luckily Lady Middletons mother arrived at Barton within the last hour, and she was a very cheerful agreeable woman. The young ladies, as well as their mother, wished for no more.
Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middletons mother, was a good-humoured, merry, fat, elderly woman, who talked a lot, seemed very happy, and rather vulgar. She was full of jokes about lovers and laughter. Marianne turned her eyes towards Elinor to see how she bore these Mrs. Jenningss attacks with an earnestness which embarrassed her far more than Mrs. Jennings could.
Colonel Brandon, Mr. Johns friend, was silent and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing. Marianne and Margaret decided that he was an absolute old bachelor, for he was thirty-five. Though his face was not handsome, his countenance was sensible.
In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, she was invited to play. The instrument was unlocked, everybody prepared to be charmed, and Marianne sang very well, too.
Mariannes performance was highly applauded. Sir John was loud in his admiration at the end of every song. Colonel Brandon alone, of all the party, heard her without raptures. He paid her only the compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him.
Chapter VIII
Mrs. Jennings was a widow. She had only two daughters, both of whom were respectably married, and she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the world. In the promotion of this object she was zealously active. She was remarkably quick in the discovery of attachments. It enabled her soon after her arrival at Barton to pronounce that Colonel Brandon was very much in love with Marianne Dashwood. It must be so. She was perfectly convinced of it. It will be an excellent match, for he is rich, and she is handsome. Mrs. Jennings was anxious to see Colonel Brandon well married since she met him.
This idea supplied her with endless jokes against them both. At the park she laughed at the colonel, and in the cottage at Marianne, who hardly knew whether to laugh, or to censure it.
Mrs. Dashwood, who did not think a man five years younger than herself, ventured to clear Mrs. Jennings from the probability of wishing to throw ridicule on his age.
But at least, Mama, you cannot deny the absurdity of the accusation, though you may not think it intentionally ill-natured. Colonel Brandon is certainly younger than Mrs. Jennings, but he is old enough to be my father. It is ridiculous! And I suspect infirmity.
Infirmity! said Elinor, do you call Colonel Brandon infirm? I can easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my mother; but he uses his limbs very well!
Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism? Is not that the sign of infirmity?
My dearest child, said her mother, laughing, at this rate you must be in continual terror of my death. It must seem to you a miracle that my life has been extended to the age of forty.
Mama, I know very well that Colonel Brandon is not old enough to die. He may live twenty years longer. But thirty-five has nothing to do with matrimony.
Perhaps, said Elinor, thirty-five and seventeen have nothing to do with matrimony together. But if there is a woman who is single at seven and twenty, Colonel Brandon can marry her for sure.
A woman of seven and twenty, said Marianne, after pausing a moment, can never hope to feel or inspire affection. In my eyes it will be no marriage at all, to me it will seem only a commercial exchange[5].
It is impossible, I know, replied Elinor, to convince you that a woman of seven and twenty can feel something for a man of thirty-five. But I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and his wife to the hospital, merely because he complained yesterday (a very cold damp day) of a slight rheumatic feel in one of his shoulders.
Soon after this, upon Elinors leaving the room, Mama, said Marianne, I have an alarm on the subject of illness which I cannot conceal from you. I am sure Edward Ferrars is not well. We have now been here almost a fortnight, and yet he does not come. He is ill. What else can detain him at Norland?
Had you any idea of his coming so soon? said Mrs. Dashwood. I had none. On the contrary, he did not show pleasure or readiness in accepting my invitation, when I talked of his coming to Barton. Does Elinor expect him already?
I have never mentioned it to her, but of course she must.
I think you are mistaken. Yesterday I offered her to get a new grate for the spare bedchamber, and she observed that there was no immediate hurry for it. It is not likely that the room will be wanted for some time.
How strange this is! What can be the meaning of it! How cold, how composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the last evening! In Edwards farewell there was no distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an affectionate brother to both. Twice I left them purposely together, and each time he followed me out of the room. And Elinor, quitting Norland and Edward, did not cry as I did. Even now her self-command is invariable. Where is her melancholy? When does she try to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?
Chapter IX
The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to themselves. The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding them, now became familiar. Sir John Middleton could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed.
Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many. The high downs which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on their summits, were a happy alternative. Towards one of these hills Marianne and Margaret one memorable morning directed their steps, attracted by the partial sunshine of a showery sky.
They gaily ascended the downs; and when they caught in their faces the gales of a high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such delightful sensations.
Is there a felicity in the world, said Marianne, superior to this? Margaret, we will walk here at least two hours.
Margaret agreed, and they pursued their way against the wind, when suddenly the clouds united over their heads, and a driving rain set full in their face. Dissapointed and surprised, they were obliged to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their own house.
They began to run. A false step brought Marianne suddenly to the ground; and Margaret, unable to stop herself to assist her, reached the bottom in safety.
A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne, when her accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. She had raised herself from the ground, but she was scarcely able to stand. The gentleman offered his services; and took her up in his arms without farther delay, and carried her down the hill. Then he bore her directly into the house, and seated her in a chair in the parlour. Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at their entrance. While the eyes of both were fixed on him with an evident wonder and a secret admiration, he apologized for his intrusion, in a manner so frank and so graceful that his person received additional charms from his voice and expression. The influence of youth, beauty, and elegance gave an interest to the action which Mrs. Dashwood saw.
She thanked him again and again; and invited him to be seated. But this he declined, as he was dirty and wet. Mrs. Dashwood then begged to know to whom she was obliged. His name, he replied, was Willoughby, and his present home was at Allenham. He hopes she will allow him to visit Miss Dashwood tomorrow. The honour was readily granted, and he then departed, to make himself still more interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain.
His manly beauty and gracefulness were instantly the theme of general admiration. He was a real hero in Mariannes eyes. His name was good, his residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming.
Sir John called on them[6] soon. Mariannes accident was related to him, and he was asked whether he knew any gentleman of the name of Willoughby at Allenham.
Willoughby! cried Sir John; That is good news; I will ride over tomorrow, and ask him to dinner on Thursday.
You know him then, said Mrs. Dashwood.
Know him! to be sure I do. He domes here every year.
And what sort of a young man is he?
A very good fellow, I assure you. An excellent hunter, and the best rider in England.
And is that all you can say? cried Marianne, indignantly. What are his manners? What are his pursuits, his talents, and genius?
Sir John was rather puzzled.
You know, said he, I do not know much about him. But he is a pleasant, good-humoured fellow, and has got the nicest pointer I ever saw. Was it with him?
But Marianne could no tell about Mr. Willoughbys pointer.
But who is he? said Elinor. Where does he come from? Has he a house at Allenham?
Sir John told them that Mr. Willoughby had no property of his own in the country. He resided there only while he was visiting the old lady at Allenham Court, to whom he was related, and whose possessions he was to inherit; adding,
Yes, yes, he is very well worth catching[7] I can tell you, Miss Dashwood. He has a pretty little estate of his own in Somersetshire besides. Miss Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself. Brandon will be jealous, if she does not take care[8].
I do not believe, said Mrs. Dashwood, with a smile, that my daughters will try to catch Mr. Willoughby. Men are very safe with us, let them be ever so rich. I am glad to find, however, from what you say, that he is a respectable young man, and one whose acquaintance will not be ineligible.
He is a good fellow, I believe, repeated Sir John. I remember last Christmas he danced from eight oclock till four.
Did he indeed? cried Marianne with sparkling eyes, and with elegance, with spirit?
Yes; and he was up again at eight to go hunting.
That is what I like; that is what a young man ought to be!
I see, said Sir John, You are interested in him now, and you will never think of poor Brandon.
That is an expression, Sir John, said Marianne, warmly, which I particularly dislike. It is gross and illiberal.
Sir John laughed heartily, and then replied,
Poor Brandon! He is in love already, and he is very well worth catching, too, I can tell you.
Chapter X
Mariannes preserver, as Margaret named Willoughby, called at the cottage early the next morning to make his personal enquiries. He was received by Mrs. Dashwood with politeness. Everything during the visit tended to assure him of the sense, elegance, mutual affection, and domestic comfort of the family to whom accident had now introduced him.
Miss Dashwood had a delicate complexion, regular features, and a remarkably pretty figure. Marianne was still handsomer. Her form was more striking; and her face was lovely. Her skin was very brown, but her complexion was uncommonly brilliant. Her features were all good; her smile was sweet and attractive; and in her eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, a spirit, an eagerness.
It was only necessary to mention any favourite amusement to engage her to talk. She could not be silent, and she had neither shyness nor reserve. They speedily discovered that their enjoyment of dancing and music was mutual. She proceeded to question him on the subject of books. Their taste was strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by each.