|
Need something?

Visit
the Austen for Beginners Store!
Click
the flag below of the country nearest to where you live:

Here you can get all the
Jane
Austen books and DVDs you could
ever want - and support this site at the same time.
Jane
Austen
Who
was
she?
What
did she write?
Novels
Pride
&
Prejudice
Sense
&
Sensibility
Emma
Mansfield
Park
Northanger
Abbey
Persuasion
Other
writings
Film/TV
adaptations
Pride
&
Prejudice
Sense
&
Sensibility
Emma
Mansfield
Park
Northanger
Abbey
Persuasion
Sequels/
rewrites
Fan
fiction
sites
Published
books
Links
to other sites

|
Back to contents page
Previous chapter
Next chapter
Chapter 12
As
Elinor and Marianne were walking together the next morning the
latter communicated a
piece of news to her sister, which in spite of all
that she knew before of Marianne's imprudence and want
of thought, surprised her by its extravagant
testimony of both. Marianne told her, with the greatest
delight, that Willoughby had
given her a horse, one that he had bred himself on his estate
in Somersetshire,
and which was exactly calculated to carry a
woman. Without
considering that it was not in her mother's plan to
keep any horse, that if she were to alter her resolution
in favour of this gift, she must buy another for the
servant, and keep a servant to ride it, and after
all, build a stable to receive them, she had accepted the
present without hesitation, and told her sister of it in
raptures.
"He
intends to send his groom into Somersetshire immediately for
it," she added,
"and when it arrives we will ride every day.
You shall share its use with me. Imagine to
yourself, my dear Elinor, the
delight of a gallop on some of these downs."
Most
unwilling was she to awaken from such a dream of felicity to
comprehend all the unhappy
truths which attended the affair; and for some time she
refused to submit to them. As to an additional servant, the
expense
would be a trifle; Mamma she was sure would never object to
it; and any horse would do for him; he might always get
one at the park; as to a stable, the merest shed would be
sufficient. Elinor then ventured to doubt the
propriety of her receiving such a present from a man so
little, or
at least so lately known to her.
This was too much.
"You
are mistaken, Elinor," said she warmly, "in supposing I know
very little of Willoughby. I
have not known him long indeed, but I
am much better acquainted with him, than I am with any
other creature in the world, except yourself and
mama. It is
not time or opportunity that is to determine
intimacy;-- it is disposition alone.
Seven years would be insufficient to make
some people acquainted with each
other, and seven days are more than enough for
others. I should
hold myself guilty of greater impropriety in
accepting a horse from my brother, than from Willoughby. Of John I
know very
little, though we have lived
together for years; but of Willoughby my
judgment has long been
formed."
Elinor
thought it wisest to touch that point no more. She knew her
sister's temper. Opposition
on so tender a subject would only attach her the more
to her own opinion. But by an appeal to her affection for
her mother, by representing the inconveniences which
that indulgent mother must draw on herself, if (as
would probably be the case) she consented to this increase
of establishment, Marianne was shortly subdued; and she
promised not to tempt her mother to such imprudent
kindness by mentioning the offer, and to tell Willoughby
when she saw him next, that it must be declined.
She
was faithful to her word; and when Willoughby called
at the cottage, the same day,
Elinor heard her express her disappointment to him in a
low voice, on being obliged to forego the acceptance
of his present. The reasons for this alteration were at
the same time related, and they were such as to make further
entreaty on his side impossible.
His concern however was very apparent; and
after expressing it with
earnestness, he added, in the same low voice,--"But,
Marianne, the horse is still yours, though you cannot use it
now. I shall
keep it only till you can claim it.
When you leave Barton to form your own
establishment in a more
lasting home, Queen Mab shall receive you."
This
was all overheard by Miss Dashwood; and in the whole of the
sentence, in his manner of
pronouncing it, and in his addressing her sister by her Christian name
alone, she instantly saw an intimacy so
decided, a meaning so direct, as marked a perfect agreement
between them. From that moment she doubted not of
their being engaged to each other; and the belief of it
created no other surprise than that she, or any of their
friends,
should be left by tempers so frank, to discover it by
accident.
Margaret
related something to her the next day, which placed this
matter in a still
clearer light. Willoughby had
spent the preceding evening with them, and Margaret, by being
left some time in
the parlour with only him and Marianne, had had
opportunity for observations, which, with a most
important face, she communicated to her eldest sister,
when they were next by themselves.
"Oh,
Elinor!" she cried, "I have such a secret to tell you about
Marianne. I am sure
she will be married to Mr. Willoughby very soon."
"You
have said so," replied Elinor, "almost every day since they
first met on High-church
Down; and they had not known each other a week, I
believe, before you were certain that Marianne wore his
picture round her neck; but it turned out to be only the
miniature of our great uncle."
"But indeed this is quite another
thing. I am
sure they will be married very soon, for he
has got a lock of her hair."
"Take
care, Margaret. It
may
be only the hair of some great uncle of his."
"But,
indeed, Elinor, it is Marianne's. I am almost sure it is, for
I saw him cut it
off. Last
night after tea, when you and mama went out of
the room, they were whispering and talking
together as fast as could be, and he seemed to be begging
something of her, and presently he took up her scissors
and cut off a long lock of her hair, for it was all tumbled
down her back; and he kissed it, and folded it up in a
piece of white paper; and put it into his pocket-book."
For
such particulars, stated on such authority, Elinor could not
withhold her credit;
nor was she disposed to it, for the circumstance was in
perfect unison with what she had heard and seen herself.
Margaret's
sagacity was not always displayed in a way so satisfactory to
her sister. When
Mrs. Jennings attacked her one evening at the park, to
give the name of the young man who was Elinor's
particular favourite, which had been long a matter of great
curiosity to her, Margaret answered by looking at her
sister, and saying, "I must not tell, may I, Elinor?"
This
of course made every body laugh; and Elinor tried to laugh too. But the effort was
painful. She was convinced that Margaret had
fixed on a person whose name she could not bear with
composure to become a standing joke with Mrs. Jennings.
Marianne
felt for her most sincerely; but she did more harm than good
to the cause, by
turning very red and saying in an angry manner to
Margaret,
"Remember
that whatever your conjectures may be, you have no right to
repeat them."
"I
never had any conjectures about it," replied Margaret; "it was
you who told me of it
yourself."
This
increased the mirth of the company, and Margaret was eagerly
pressed to say something
more.
"Oh!
pray, Miss Margaret, let us know all about it," said Mrs.
Jennings. "What is
the gentleman's name?"
"I
must not tell, ma'am. But I know very well what it is; and I
know where he is too."
"Yes,
yes, we can guess where he is; at his own house at Norland to
be sure. He is the
curate of the parish I dare say.
"No,
that he is not. He
is
of no profession at all."
"Margaret,"
said Marianne with great warmth, "you know that all this is an
invention of your own, and that there is no such person in
existence."
"Well,
then, he is lately dead, Marianne, for I am sure there was
such a man once, and
his name begins with an F."
Most
grateful did Elinor feel to Lady Middleton for observing, at
this moment,
"that it rained very hard," though she believed the
interruption to
proceed less from any attention to her, than from her
ladyship's great dislike of all such inelegant subjects of
raillery as delighted her husband and mother.
The idea however started by her, was
immediately pursued by Colonel
Brandon, who was on every occasion mindful of the
feelings of others; and much was said on the subject of rain
by both of them. Willoughby opened
the piano-forte, and asked Marianne to sit down to it; and
thus amidst the
various endeavours of different people to quit the topic,
it fell to the ground. But not so easily did Elinor recover
from the alarm into which it had thrown her.
A
party was formed this evening for going on the following day
to see a very fine place
about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a
brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it
could not be
seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict
orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly
beautiful, and Sir John, who was particularly warm
in their praise, might be allowed to be a tolerable
judge, for he had formed parties to visit them, at least,
twice every summer for the last ten years.
They contained a noble piece of water; a
sail on which was to a form
a great part of the morning's amusement; cold provisions
were to be taken, open carriages only to be employed, and
every thing conducted in the usual style of a
complete party of pleasure.
To
some few of the company it appeared rather a bold undertaking,
considering the time
of year, and that it had rained every day for the
last fortnight;-- and Mrs. Dashwood, who had already a
cold, was persuaded by Elinor to stay at home.
Next
chapter
Back
to contents page
|