Tip:
Highlight text to annotate it
X
SENSE AND SENSIBILITY
by Jane Austen (1811)
Chapter 38
Mrs. Jennings was very warm in her praise
of Edward's conduct, but only Elinor and
Marianne understood its true merit.
THEY only knew how little he had had to
tempt him to be disobedient, and how small
was the consolation, beyond the
consciousness of doing right, that could
remain to him in the loss of friends and
fortune.
Elinor gloried in his integrity; and
Marianne forgave all his offences in
compassion for his punishment.
But though confidence between them was, by
this public discovery, restored to its
proper state, it was not a subject on which
either of them were fond of dwelling when
alone.
Elinor avoided it upon principle, as
tending to fix still more upon her
thoughts, by the too warm, too positive
assurances of Marianne, that belief of
Edward's continued affection for herself
which she rather wished to do away; and
Marianne's courage soon failed her, in
trying to converse upon a topic which
always left her more dissatisfied with
herself than ever, by the comparison it
necessarily produced between Elinor's
conduct and her own.
She felt all the force of that comparison;
but not as her sister had hoped, to urge
her to exertion now; she felt it with all
the pain of continual self-reproach,
regretted most bitterly that she had never
exerted herself before; but it brought only
the torture of penitence, without the hope
of amendment.
Her mind was so much weakened that she
still fancied present exertion impossible,
and therefore it only dispirited her more.
Nothing new was heard by them, for a day or
two afterwards, of affairs in Harley
Street, or Bartlett's Buildings.
But though so much of the matter was known
to them already, that Mrs. Jennings might
have had enough to do in spreading that
knowledge farther, without seeking after
more, she had resolved from the first to
pay a visit of comfort and inquiry to her
cousins as soon as she could; and nothing
but the hindrance of more visitors than
usual, had prevented her going to them
within that time.
The third day succeeding their knowledge of
the particulars, was so fine, so beautiful
a Sunday as to draw many to Kensington
Gardens, though it was only the second week
in March.
Mrs. Jennings and Elinor were of the
number; but Marianne, who knew that the
Willoughbys were again in town, and had a
constant dread of meeting them, chose
rather to stay at home, than venture into
so public a place.
An intimate acquaintance of Mrs. Jennings
joined them soon after they entered the
Gardens, and Elinor was not sorry that by
her continuing with them, and engaging all
Mrs. Jennings's conversation, she was
herself left to quiet reflection.
She saw nothing of the Willoughbys, nothing
of Edward, and for some time nothing of
anybody who could by any chance whether
grave or gay, be interesting to her.
But at last she found herself with some
surprise, accosted by Miss Steele, who,
though looking rather shy, expressed great
satisfaction in meeting them, and on
receiving encouragement from the particular
kindness of Mrs. Jennings, left her own
party for a short time, to join their's.
Mrs. Jennings immediately whispered to
Elinor,
"Get it all out of her, my dear.
She will tell you any thing if you ask.
You see I cannot leave Mrs. Clarke."
It was lucky, however, for Mrs. Jennings's
curiosity and Elinor's too, that she would
tell any thing WITHOUT being asked; for
nothing would otherwise have been learnt.
"I am so glad to meet you;" said Miss
Steele, taking her familiarly by the arm--
"for I wanted to see you of all things in
the world."
And then lowering her voice, "I suppose
Mrs. Jennings has heard all about it.
Is she angry?"
"Not at all, I believe, with you."
"That is a good thing.
And Lady Middleton, is SHE angry?"
"I cannot suppose it possible that she
should."
"I am monstrous glad of it.
Good gracious!
I have had such a time of it!
I never saw Lucy in such a rage in my life.
She vowed at first she would never trim me
up a new bonnet, nor do any thing else for
me again, so long as she lived; but now she
is quite come to, and we are as good
friends as ever.
Look, she made me this bow to my hat, and
put in the feather last night.
There now, YOU are going to laugh at me
too.
But why should not I wear pink ribbons?
I do not care if it IS the Doctor's
favourite colour.
I am sure, for my part, I should never have
known he DID like it better than any other
colour, if he had not happened to say so.
My cousins have been so plaguing me!
I declare sometimes I do not know which way
to look before them."
She had wandered away to a subject on which
Elinor had nothing to say, and therefore
soon judged it expedient to find her way
back again to the first.
"Well, but Miss Dashwood," speaking
triumphantly, "people may say what they
chuse about Mr. Ferrars's declaring he
would not have Lucy, for it is no such
thing I can tell you; and it is quite a
shame for such ill-natured reports to be
spread abroad.
Whatever Lucy might think about it herself,
you know, it was no business of other
people to set it down for certain."
"I never heard any thing of the kind hinted
at before, I assure you," said Elinor.
"Oh, did not you?
But it WAS said, I know, very well, and by
more than one; for Miss Godby told Miss
Sparks, that nobody in their senses could
expect Mr. Ferrars to give up a woman like
Miss Morton, with thirty thousand pounds to
her fortune, for Lucy Steele that had
nothing at all; and I had it from Miss
Sparks myself.
And besides that, my cousin Richard said
himself, that when it came to the point he
was afraid Mr. Ferrars would be off; and
when Edward did not come near us for three
days, I could not tell what to think
myself; and I believe in my heart Lucy gave
it up all for lost; for we came away from
your brother's Wednesday, and we saw
nothing of him not all Thursday, Friday,
and Saturday, and did not know what was
become of him.
Once Lucy thought to write to him, but then
her spirits rose against that.
However this morning he came just as we
came home from church; and then it all came
out, how he had been sent for Wednesday to
Harley Street, and been talked to by his
mother and all of them, and how he had
declared before them all that he loved
nobody but Lucy, and nobody but Lucy would
he have.
And how he had been so worried by what
passed, that as soon as he had went away
from his mother's house, he had got upon
his horse, and rid into the country, some
where or other; and how he had stayed about
at an inn all Thursday and Friday, on
purpose to get the better of it.
And after thinking it all over and over
again, he said, it seemed to him as if, now
he had no fortune, and no nothing at all,
it would be quite unkind to keep her on to
the engagement, because it must be for her
loss, for he had nothing but two thousand
pounds, and no hope of any thing else; and
if he was to go into orders, as he had some
thoughts, he could get nothing but a
curacy, and how was they to live upon
that?--He could not bear to think of her
doing no better, and so he begged, if she
had the least mind for it, to put an end to
the matter directly, and leave him shift
for himself.
I heard him say all this as plain as could
possibly be.
And it was entirely for HER sake, and upon
HER account, that he said a word about
being off, and not upon his own.
I will take my oath he never dropt a
syllable of being tired of her, or of
wishing to marry Miss Morton, or any thing
like it.
But, to be sure, Lucy would not give ear to
such kind of talking; so she told him
directly (with a great deal about sweet and
love, you know, and all that--Oh, la! one
can't repeat such kind of things you know)-
-she told him directly, she had not the
least mind in the world to be off, for she
could live with him upon a trifle, and how
little so ever he might have, she should be
very glad to have it all, you know, or
something of the kind.
So then he was monstrous happy, and talked
on some time about what they should do, and
they agreed he should take orders directly,
and they must wait to be married till he
got a living.
And just then I could not hear any more,
for my cousin called from below to tell me
Mrs. Richardson was come in her coach, and
would take one of us to Kensington Gardens;
so I was forced to go into the room and
interrupt them, to ask Lucy if she would
like to go, but she did not care to leave
Edward; so I just run up stairs and put on
a pair of silk stockings and came off with
the Richardsons."
"I do not understand what you mean by
interrupting them," said Elinor; "you were
all in the same room together, were not
you?"
"No, indeed, not us.
La! Miss Dashwood, do you think people make
love when any body else is by?
Oh, for shame!--To be sure you must know
better than that.
(Laughing affectedly.)--No, no; they were
shut up in the drawing-room together, and
all I heard was only by listening at the
door."
"How!" cried Elinor; "have you been
repeating to me what you only learnt
yourself by listening at the door?
I am sorry I did not know it before; for I
certainly would not have suffered you to
give me particulars of a conversation which
you ought not to have known yourself.
How could you behave so unfairly by your
"Oh, la! there is nothing in THAT.
I only stood at the door, and heard what I
could.
And I am sure Lucy would have done just the
same by me; for a year or two back, when
Martha Sharpe and I had so many secrets
together, she never made any bones of
hiding in a closet, or behind a chimney-
board, on purpose to hear what we said."
Elinor tried to talk of something else; but
Miss Steele could not be kept beyond a
couple of minutes, from what was uppermost
in her mind.
"Edward talks of going to Oxford soon,"
said she; "but now he is lodging at No. --,
Pall Mall.
What an ill-natured woman his mother is,
an't she?
And your brother and sister were not very
kind!
However, I shan't say anything against them
to YOU; and to be sure they did send us
home in their own chariot, which was more
than I looked for.
And for my part, I was all in a fright for
fear your sister should ask us for the
huswifes she had gave us a day or two
before; but, however, nothing was said
about them, and I took care to keep mine
out of sight.
Edward have got some business at Oxford, he
says; so he must go there for a time; and
after THAT, as soon as he can light upon a
Bishop, he will be ordained.
I wonder what curacy he will get!--Good
gracious!
(giggling as she spoke) I'd lay my life I
know what my cousins will say, when they
hear of it.
They will tell me I should write to the
Doctor, to get Edward the curacy of his new
living.
I know they will; but I am sure I would not
do such a thing for all the world.-- 'La!'
I shall say directly, 'I wonder how you
could think of such a thing?
I write to the Doctor, indeed!'"
"Well," said Elinor, "it is a comfort to be
prepared against the worst.
You have got your answer ready."
Miss Steele was going to reply on the same
subject, but the approach of her own party
made another more necessary.
"Oh, la! here come the Richardsons.
I had a vast deal more to say to you, but I
must not stay away from them not any
longer.
I assure you they are very genteel people.
He makes a monstrous deal of money, and
they keep their own coach.
I have not time to speak to Mrs. Jennings
about it myself, but pray tell her I am
quite happy to hear she is not in anger
against us, and Lady Middleton the same;
and if anything should happen to take you
and your sister away, and Mrs. Jennings
should want company, I am sure we should be
very glad to come and stay with her for as
long a time as she likes.
I suppose Lady Middleton won't ask us any
more this bout.
Good-by; I am sorry Miss Marianne was not
here.
Remember me kindly to her.
La! if you have not got your spotted muslin
on!--I wonder you was not afraid of its
being torn."
Such was her parting concern; for after
this, she had time only to pay her farewell
compliments to Mrs. Jennings, before her
company was claimed by Mrs. Richardson; and
Elinor was left in possession of knowledge
which might feed her powers of reflection
some time, though she had learnt very
little more than what had been already
foreseen and foreplanned in her own mind.
Edward's marriage with Lucy was as firmly
determined on, and the time of its taking
place remained as absolutely uncertain, as
she had concluded it would be;--every thing
depended, exactly after her expectation, on
his getting that preferment, of which, at
present, there seemed not the smallest
chance.
As soon as they returned to the carriage,
Mrs. Jennings was eager for information;
but as Elinor wished to spread as little as
possible intelligence that had in the first
place been so unfairly obtained, she
confined herself to the brief repetition of
such simple particulars, as she felt
assured that Lucy, for the sake of her own
consequence, would choose to have known.
The continuance of their engagement, and
the means that were able to be taken for
promoting its end, was all her
communication; and this produced from Mrs.
Jennings the following natural remark.
"Wait for his having a living!--ay, we all
know how THAT will end:--they will wait a
twelvemonth, and finding no good comes of
it, will set down upon a curacy of fifty
pounds a-year, with the interest of his two
thousand pounds, and what little matter Mr.
Steele and Mr. Pratt can give her.--Then
they will have a child every year! and Lord
help 'em! how poor they will be!--I must
see what I can give them towards furnishing
their house.
Two maids and two men, indeed!--as I talked
of t'other day.--No, no, they must get a
stout girl of all works.-- Betty's sister
would never do for them NOW."
The next morning brought Elinor a letter by
the two-penny post from Lucy herself.
It was as follows:
"Bartlett's Building, March.
"I hope my dear Miss Dashwood will excuse
the liberty I take of writing to her; but I
know your friendship for me will make you
pleased to hear such a good account of
myself and my dear Edward, after all the
troubles we have went through lately,
therefore will make no more apologies, but
proceed to say that, thank God! though we
have suffered dreadfully, we are both quite
well now, and as happy as we must always be
in one another's love.
We have had great trials, and great
persecutions, but however, at the same
time, gratefully acknowledge many friends,
yourself not the least among them, whose
great kindness I shall always thankfully
remember, as will Edward too, who I have
told of it.
I am sure you will be glad to hear, as
likewise dear Mrs. Jennings, I spent two
happy hours with him yesterday afternoon,
he would not hear of our parting, though
earnestly did I, as I thought my duty
required, urge him to it for prudence sake,
and would have parted for ever on the spot,
would he consent to it; but he said it
should never be, he did not regard his
mother's anger, while he could have my
affections; our prospects are not very
bright, to be sure, but we must wait, and
hope for the best; he will be ordained
shortly; and should it ever be in your
power to recommend him to any body that has
a living to bestow, am very sure you will
not forget us, and dear Mrs. Jennings too,
trust she will speak a good word for us to
Sir John, or Mr. Palmer, or any friend that
may be able to assist us.--Poor Anne was
much to blame for what she did, but she did
it for the best, so I say nothing; hope
Mrs. Jennings won't think it too much
trouble to give us a call, should she come
this way any morning, 'twould be a great
kindness, and my cousins would be proud to
know her.--My paper reminds me to conclude;
and begging to be most gratefully and
respectfully remembered to her, and to Sir
John, and Lady Middleton, and the dear
children, when you chance to see them, and
love to Miss Marianne,
"I am, &c."
As soon as Elinor had finished it, she
performed what she concluded to be its
writer's real design, by placing it in the
hands of Mrs. Jennings, who read it aloud
with many comments of satisfaction and
praise.
"Very well indeed!--how prettily she
writes!--aye, that was quite proper to let
him be off if he would.
That was just like Lucy.--Poor soul!
I wish I COULD get him a living, with all
my heart.--She calls me dear Mrs. Jennings,
you see.
She is a good-hearted girl as ever lived.--
Very well upon my word.
That sentence is very prettily turned.
Yes, yes, I will go and see her, sure
enough.
How attentive she is, to think of every
body!--Thank you, my dear, for shewing it
me.
It is as pretty a letter as ever I saw, and
does Lucy's head and heart great credit."