Chapter IV

“What a pity it is, Elinor,” said Marianne, “that Edward has no taste for drawing.”

“No taste for drawing!” replied Elinor, “why do you think so? He does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the performances of other people. He distrusts his own judgment, so he is always unwilling to give his opinion on any picture. I hope, Marianne, you do not consider him as deficient in general taste.”

Marianne hardly knew what to say. She did not want to wound the feelings of her sister, and yet to say what she did not believe was impossible. She replied:

“Do not be offended, Elinor, if my praise of him is not in every thing equal to your sense of his merits. I have the highest opinion in the world of his goodness and sense. I think him worthy and amiable.”

“I do not perceive,” replied Elinor, with a smile, “how you can express yourself more warmly. Of his sense and his goodness, no one can, I think, be in doubt. He and I have been often together. I have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard his opinion on subjects of literature and taste. I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation correct, and his taste delicate and pure. At first sight, his person can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which are uncommonly good is perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really handsome; or at least, almost so. And you, Marianne?”

“I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor. When you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection in his face.”

Elinor started at this declaration. She felt that Edward stood very high in her opinion.

“I do not attempt to deny,” said she, “that I think very highly of him – that I greatly esteem, that I like him.”

“Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment.”

Elinor laughed.

“Excuse me,” said she. “I am by no means assured of his love for me. There are moments when the extent of it seems doubtful. But there are other points to be considered. He is not independent. What his mother really is we cannot know. Edward himself can understand that there will be many difficulties, if he wishes to marry a woman who has not either a great fortune or high rank.”

“And you really are not engaged to him!” said Marianne. “Yet it certainly soon will happen.”

It was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on the subject. The longer they were together the more doubtful seemed the nature of his regard. Sometimes she believed it to be no more than friendship.

But his sister was uneasy. She took the first opportunity of affronting her mother-in-law on the occasion, talking to her expressively of her brother’s great expectations, of Mrs. Ferrars’s resolution that both her sons could marry very well.

One day a letter was delivered to Mrs. Dashwood. It contained a proposal. It was the offer of a small house, belonging to a relation of her own, a rich gentleman from Devonshire. The letter was from this gentleman himself, and written in the true spirit of friendly accommodation. He understood that she was in need of a dwelling. Though the house he now offered her was merely a cottage, he assured her that everything was good there. He invited her to come with her daughters to Barton Park, the place of his own residence. There she will judge, herself, whether Barton Cottage is comfortable to her. He seemed really anxious to accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written in a friendly style. Her resolution was formed as she read. She instantly wrote Sir John Middleton her acceptance of his proposal; and then hastened to show the letters to her daughters.

Chapter V

Mrs. Dashwood announced to her son-in-law and his wife that she was provided with a house. So she will incommode them no longer than till everything is ready for her inhabiting it. They heard her with surprise. Mrs. John Dashwood said nothing; but her husband hoped that she would settle not far from Norland. She had great satisfaction in replying that she was going into Devonshire. Edward turned hastily towards her and, in a voice of surprise repeated, “Devonshire! Are you, indeed, going there? So far! And to what part of it?”

She explained the situation. It was within four miles northward of Exeter.

“It is a cottage,” she continued, “but I hope to see many of my friends in it. A room or two can easily be added.”

She concluded with a very kind invitation to Mr. and Mrs. John Dashwood to visit her at Barton.

Mr. John Dashwood told his mother again and again how exceedingly sorry he was that she had taken a house at such a distance from Norland.

Mrs. Dashwood took the house for a year; it was ready furnished. The servant and one of the maids were sent off immediately into Devonshire, to prepare the house for their mistress’s arrival. In a very few weeks from the day which brought Sir John Middleton’s letter to Norland, everything was settled in their future abode as to enable Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters to begin their journey.

“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 husband’s 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 Middleton’s 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 Middleton’s 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. Jennings’s attacks with an earnestness which embarrassed her far more than Mrs. Jennings could.

Colonel Brandon, Mr. John’s 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.

Marianne’s 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.