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Chapter 7
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 mounted 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.
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