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Chapter 34
Mrs.
John Dashwood had so much confidence in her husband's
judgment, that she waited the
very next day both on Mrs. Jennings and her daughter;
and her confidence was rewarded by finding even
the former, even the woman with whom her sisters
were staying, by no means unworthy her notice; and as
for Lady Middleton, she found her one of the most charming
women in the world.
Lady
Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. Dashwood. There was a
kind of cold hearted
selfishness on both sides, which mutually attracted them; and
they
sympathised with each other in an insipid propriety
of demeanour, and a general want of understanding.
The
same manners, however, which recommended Mrs. John Dashwood to
the good opinion of Lady
Middleton did not suit the fancy of Mrs. Jennings, and to her
she appeared nothing more than a little proud-looking woman
of uncordial address, who met her husband's sisters without
any affection, and almost without having anything to
say to them; for of the quarter of an hour bestowed
on Berkeley Street, she sat at least seven minutes and a
half in silence.
Elinor
wanted very much to know, though she did not chuse to ask,
whether Edward was
then in town; but nothing would have induced Fanny
voluntarily to mention his name before her, till
able to tell her that his marriage with Miss Morton was
resolved on, or till her husband's expectations on
Colonel Brandon were answered; because she believed them
still so very much attached to each other, that they
could not be too sedulously divided in word and deed on
every occasion. The intelligence however, which she would not
give, soon flowed from another quarter.
Lucy came very shortly to claim Elinor's
compassion on being
unable to see Edward, though he had arrived in town with Mr.
and Mrs. Dashwood. He dared not come to Bartlett's
Buildings for fear of detection, and though their mutual
impatience to meet, was not to be told, they could do
nothing at present but write.
Edward
assured them himself of his being in town, within a very short
time, by twice
calling in Berkeley Street. Twice was his card found on the
table,
when they returned from their morning's engagements. Elinor was
pleased that he had called; and still more
pleased that she had missed him.
The
Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted with the Middletons,
that, though not
much in the habit of giving anything, they determined to
give them a dinner; and soon after their
acquaintance began, invited them to dine in Harley Street,
where they had taken a very good house for three
months. Their
sisters and Mrs. Jennings were invited likewise,
and John Dashwood was careful to secure Colonel Brandon,
who, always glad to be where the Miss Dashwoods were,
received his eager civilities with some surprise, but much
more pleasure. They were to meet Mrs. Ferrars; but
Elinor could not learn whether her sons were to be of the
party. The
expectation of seeing her, however, was enough to
make her interested in the engagement; for though she could
now meet Edward's mother without that strong anxiety which
had once promised to attend such an introduction, though
she could now see her with perfect indifference as to her
opinion of herself, her desire of being in company with Mrs.
Ferrars, her curiosity to know what she was like,
was as lively as ever.
The
interest with which she thus anticipated the party, was soon
afterwards increased,
more powerfully than pleasantly, by her hearing that the
Miss Steeles were also to be at it.
So
well had they recommended themselves to Lady Middleton, so
agreeable had their assiduities made
them to her, that though Lucy was certainly not so
elegant, and her sister not even genteel, she was as
ready as Sir John to ask them to spend a week or two in
Conduit Street; and it happened to be particularly
convenient to the Miss Steeles, as soon as the Dashwoods'
invitation was known, that their visit should begin a few days
before the party took place.
Their
claims to the notice of Mrs. John Dashwood, as the nieces of
the gentleman who for
many years had had the care of her brother, might not
have done much, however, towards procuring them seats at
her table; but as Lady Middleton's guests they must
be welcome; and Lucy, who had long wanted to be personally
known to the family, to have a nearer view of their
characters and her own difficulties, and to have an opportunity
of endeavouring to please them, had seldom been happier
in her life, than she was on receiving Mrs. John
Dashwood's card.
On
Elinor its effect was very different.
She began immediately to determine, that
Edward
who lived with his mother, must be asked as his mother
was, to a party given by his sister; and to see him for
the first time, after all that passed, in the company of
Lucy!--she hardly knew how she could bear it!
These apprehensions,
perhaps, were not founded entirely on reason, and certainly
not at
all on truth. They were relieved however, not by her
own recollection, but by the good will of Lucy, who
believed herself to be inflicting a severe disappointment when
she told her that Edward certainly would not be in
Harley Street on Tuesday, and even hoped to be carrying the
pain
still farther by persuading her that he was kept away
by the extreme affection for herself, which he could
not conceal when they were together.
The
important Tuesday came that was to introduce the two young
ladies to this formidable
mother-in-law.
"Pity
me, dear Miss Dashwood!" said Lucy, as they walked up the
stairs together--for the
Middletons arrived so directly after Mrs. Jennings, that
they all followed the servant at the same
time--"There is nobody here but you, that can feel for me.--I
declare I
can hardly stand. Good gracious!--In a moment I shall see
the person that all my happiness depends on--that is to be
my mother!"--
Elinor
could have given her immediate relief by suggesting the
possibility of its
being Miss Morton's mother, rather than her own, whom they
were
about to behold; but instead of doing that, she assured
her, and with great sincerity, that she did pity
her--to the utter amazement of Lucy, who, though really
uncomfortable herself, hoped at least to be an object of
irrepressible envy to Elinor.
Mrs.
Ferrars was a little, thin woman, upright, even to formality,
in her figure, and
serious, even to sourness, in her aspect.
Her complexion was sallow; and her features
small, without beauty,
and naturally without expression; but a lucky
contraction of the brow had rescued her countenance from the
disgrace of insipidity, by giving it the strong characters of
pride and ill nature. She was not a woman of many words; for,
unlike people in general, she proportioned them to the
number of her ideas; and of the few syllables that
did escape her, not one fell to the share of Miss
Dashwood, whom she eyed with the spirited determination of
disliking
her at all events.
Elinor
could not now be made unhappy by this behaviour.-- A few
months ago it would have hurt her
exceedingly; but it was not in Mrs. Ferrars' power to
distress her by it now;-- and the difference of her manners to
the
Miss Steeles, a difference which seemed purposely made
to humble her more, only amused her.
She
could not but smile to see the
graciousness of both mother and daughter towards the
very person-- for Lucy was particularly
distinguished--whom of all others, had they known as much as
she did, they
would have been most anxious to mortify; while she herself,
who had comparatively no power to wound them, sat pointedly
slighted by both. But while she smiled at a graciousness
so misapplied, she could not reflect on the
mean-spirited folly from which it sprung, nor observe the
studied
attentions with which the Miss Steeles courted its
continuance, without thoroughly despising them all
four.
Lucy
was all exultation on being so honorably distinguished; and
Miss Steele wanted
only to be teazed about Dr. Davies to be perfectly happy.
The
dinner was a grand one, the servants were numerous, and every
thing bespoke the Mistress's
inclination for show, and the Master's ability to
support it. In spite of the improvements and
additions which were making to the Norland estate, and in
spite of its owner having once been within some thousand
pounds of being obliged to sell out at a loss, nothing
gave any symptom of that indigence which he had tried to
infer from it;-- no poverty of any kind, except of
conversation, appeared-- but there, the deficiency was
considerable. John
Dashwood had not much to say for himself that was
worth hearing, and his wife had still less.
But there was no peculiar disgrace in this;
for it was very much
the case with the chief of their visitors, who almost
all laboured under one or other of these
disqualifications for being agreeable--want of sense, either
natural
or improved--want of elegance--want of spirits--or want of
temper.
When
the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room after
dinner, this
poverty was
particularly evident, for the gentlemen had supplied the
discourse with some variety--the variety of politics,
inclosing land, and breaking horses--but then it was all
over; and one subject only engaged the ladies till
coffee came in, which was the comparative heights of
Harry Dashwood, and Lady Middleton's second son William,
who were nearly of the same age.
Had
both the children been there, the affair might have been
determined too easily by
measuring them at once; but as Harry only was present, it was
all conjectural assertion on both sides; and every body
had a right to be equally positive in their opinion,
and to repeat it over and over again as often as they
liked.
The
parties stood thus:
The
two mothers, though each really convinced that her own son was
the tallest, politely
decided in favour of the other.
The
two grandmothers, with not less partiality, but more
sincerity, were equally earnest
in support of their own descendant.
Lucy,
who was hardly less anxious to please one parent than the
other, thought the boys were
both remarkably tall for their age, and could not conceive
that there could be the smallest difference in the world
between them; and Miss Steele, with yet greater
address gave it, as fast as she could, in favour of each.
Elinor,
having once delivered her opinion on William's side, by which
she offended
Mrs. Ferrars and Fanny still more, did not see the
necessity of enforcing it by any farther assertion; and
Marianne, when called on for her's, offended them all, by
declaring that she had no opinion to give, as she had never
thought about it.
Before
her removing from Norland, Elinor had painted a very pretty
pair of screens for her
sister-in-law, which being now just mounted and brought
home, ornamented her present drawing room; and
these screens, catching the eye of John Dashwood on his
following the other gentlemen into the room, were
officiously handed by him to Colonel Brandon for his
admiration.
"These
are done by my eldest sister," said he; "and you, as a man of
taste, will, I dare say, be
pleased with them. I do not know whether you have ever
happened to see any of her performances before, but she is
in general reckoned to draw extremely well."
The
Colonel, though disclaiming all pretensions to
connoisseurship, warmly admired the
screens, as he would have done any thing painted by
Miss Dashwood; and on the curiosity of the others being
of course excited, they were handed round for general
inspection. Mrs. Ferrars, not aware of their being
Elinor's work, particularly requested to look at them;
and after they had received gratifying testimony of Lady
Middletons's approbation, Fanny presented them to her mother,
considerately informing her, at the same time, that they were
done by Miss Dashwood.
"Hum"--said
Mrs. Ferrars--"very pretty,"--and
without regarding them at all, returned them to
her daughter.
Perhaps
Fanny thought for a moment that her mother had been quite rude
enough,--for,
colouring a little, she immediately said,
"They
are very pretty, ma'am--an't they?" But then again, the dread
of having been too civil, too
encouraging herself, probably came over her, for she
presently added,
"Do
you not think they are something in Miss Morton's style of
painting, Ma'am?--She does paint most delightfully!--How beautifully
her last
landscape is done!"
"Beautifully
indeed! But she
does every thing well."
Marianne
could not bear this.--She was already greatly displeased with
Mrs. Ferrars;
and such ill-timed praise of another, at Elinor's expense,
though she had not any notion of what was
principally meant by it, provoked her immediately to say with
warmth,
"This
is admiration of a very particular kind!-- what is Miss Morton
to us?--who knows,
or who cares, for her?--it is Elinor of whom we think
and speak."
And so saying, she took the screens
out of
her sister-in-law's hands, to admire them
herself as they ought to be admired.
Mrs.
Ferrars looked exceedingly angry, and drawing herself up more
stiffly than ever,
pronounced in retort this bitter philippic, "Miss Morton
is Lord Morton's daughter."
Fanny
looked very angry too, and her husband was all in a fright at
his sister's
audacity. Elinor
was much more hurt by Marianne's warmth than
she had been by what produced it; but Colonel Brandon's
eyes, as they were fixed on Marianne, declared that he
noticed only what was amiable in it, the affectionate
heart which could not bear to see a sister slighted in the
smallest point.
Marianne's
feelings did not stop here. The
cold insolence of Mrs. Ferrars's general
behaviour to her sister, seemed, to her, to foretell such
difficulties and distresses to Elinor, as her own wounded
heart
taught her to think of with horror; and urged by a strong
impulse of affectionate sensibility, she moved
after a moment, to her sister's chair, and putting one
arm round her neck, and one cheek close to hers, said in a
low, but eager, voice,
"Dear,
dear Elinor, don't mind them. Don't
let them make you unhappy."
She
could say no more; her spirits were quite overcome, and hiding
her face on Elinor's
shoulder, she burst into tears.
Every body's attention was called, and
almost every body was concerned.--Colonel
Brandon rose up and went to them without knowing what he
did.--Mrs. Jennings, with a very intelligent "Ah! poor
dear," immediately gave her her salts; and Sir John felt so
desperately enraged against the author of this nervous
distress, that he instantly changed his seat to one close
by Lucy Steele, and gave her, in a whisper, a brief
account of the whole shocking affair.
In
a few minutes, however, Marianne was recovered enough to put
an end to the bustle, and
sit down among the rest; though her spirits retained
the impression of what had passed, the whole evening.
"Poor
Marianne!" said her brother to Colonel Brandon, in a low
voice, as soon as he could
secure his attention,-- "She has not such good health as
her sister,--she is very nervous,--she has not Elinor's
constitution;--and one must allow that there is something very
trying to a young woman who has been a beauty in the loss of
her
personal attractions. You would not think it perhaps, but
Marianne was remarkably handsome a few months ago; quite as
handsome as Elinor.-- Now you see it is all gone."
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