Within a few days after this meeting, the newspapers announced
to the world, that the lady of Thomas Palmer, Esq. was safely
delivered of a son and heir; a very interesting and satisfactory
paragraph, at least to all those intimate connections who knew it before.
This event, highly important to Mrs. Jennings's happiness,
produced a temporary alteration in the disposal of her time, and
influenced, in a like degree, the engagements of her young friends;
for as she wished to be as much as possible with Charlotte, she went
thither every morning as soon as she was dressed, and did not return
till late in the evening; and the Misses Dashwood, at the particular
request of the Middletons, spent the whole of every day, in every day,
in Conduit Street. For their own comfort, they would much rather
have remained, at least all the morning, in Mrs. Jennings's house; but
it was not a thing to be urged against the wishes of everybody.
Their hours were therefore made over to Lady Middleton and the two
Misses Steele, by whom their company, in fact, was as little valued as
it was professedly sought.
They had too much sense to be desirable companions to the
former; and by the latter they were considered with a jealous eye,
as intruding on their ground, and sharing the kindness which they
wanted to monopolise. Though nothing could be more polite than Lady
Middleton's behaviour to Elinor and Marianne, she did not really
like them at all. Because they neither flattered herself nor her
children, she could not believe them good-natured; and because they
were fond of reading, she fancied them satirical: perhaps without
exactly knowing what it was to be satirical; but that did not signify.
It was censure in common use, and easily given.
Their presence was a restraint both on her and on Lucy. It checked
the idleness of one, and the business of the other. Lady Middleton was
ashamed of doing nothing before them, and the flattery which Lucy
was proud to think of, and administer at other times she feared they
would despise her for offering. Miss Steele was the least
discomposed of the three by their presence; and it was in their
power to reconcile her to it entirely. Would either of them only
have given her a full and minute account of the whole affair between
Marianne and Mr. Willoughby she would have thought herself amply
rewarded for the sacrifice of the best place by the fire after dinner,
which their arrival occasioned. But this conciliation was not granted;
for though she often threw out expressions of pity for her sister to
Elinor, and more than once dropt a reflection on the inconstancy of
beaux before Marianne; no effect was produced, but a look of
indifference from the former, or of disgust in the latter. An effort
even yet lighter might have made her their friend;- would they only
have laughed at her about the doctor! But so little were they, any
more than the others, inclined to oblige her, that if Sir John dined
from home, she might spend a whole day without hearing any other
raillery on the subject, than what she was kind enough to bestow on herself.
All these jealousies and discontents, however, were so totally
unsuspected by Mrs. Jennings, that she thought it a delightful thing
for the girls to be together; and generally congratulated her young
friends every night on having escaped the company of a stupid old
woman so long. She joined them sometimes at Sir John's, sometimes at
her own house; but wherever it was, she always came in excellent
spirits, full of delight and importance, attributing Charlotte's
well doing to her own care, and ready to give so exact, so minute a
detail of her situation, as only Miss Steele had curiosity enough to
desire. One thing did disturb her; and of that she made her daily
complaint. Mr. Palmer maintained the common, but unfatherly opinion
among his sex, of all infants being alike; and though she could
plainly perceive, at different times, the most striking resemblance
between this baby and every one of his relations on both sides,
there was no convincing his father of it; no persuading him to believe
that it was not exactly like every other baby of the same age; nor
could he even be brought to acknowledge the simple proposition of
its being the finest child in the world.
I come now to the relation of a misfortune which about this time
befell Mrs. John Dashwood. It so happened that while her two sisters
with Mrs. Jennings were first calling on her in Harley Street, another
of her acquaintance had dropt in- a circumstance in itself not
apparently likely to produce evil to her. But while the imaginations
of other people will carry them away to form wrong judgments of our
conduct, and to decide on it by slight appearances, one's happiness
must in some measure be always at the mercy of chance. In the
present instance, this last arrived lady allowed her fancy to so far
out-run truth and probability, that on merely hearing the name of
the Misses Dashwood, and understanding them to be Mrs. Dashwood's
sisters, she immediately concluded them to be staying in Harley
Street; and this misconstruction produced, within a day or two
afterwards, cards of invitation for them, as well as for their brother
and sister, to a small musical party at her house; the consequence
of which was, that Mrs. John Dashwood was obliged to submit, not
only to the exceedingly great inconvenience of sending her carriage
for the Misses Dashwood, but, what was still worse, must be subject to
all the unpleasantness of appearing to treat them with attention,
and who could tell that they might not expect to go out with her a
second time? The power of disappointing them, it was true, must always
be hers. But that was not enough: for when people are determined on
a mode of conduct which they know to be wrong, they feel injured by
the expectation of anything better from them.
Marianne had now been brought, by degrees, so much into the
habit of going out every day, that it was become a matter of
indifference to her whether she went or not; and she prepared
quietly and mechanically for every evening's engagement, though
without expecting the smallest amusement from any, and very often
without knowing, till the last moment, where it was to take her.
To her dress and appearance she was grown so perfectly indifferent
as not to bestow half the consideration on it, during the whole of her
toilet, which it received from Miss Steele in the first five minutes
of their being together when it was finished. Nothing escaped her
minute observation and general curiosity; she saw everything, and
asked everything; was never easy till she knew the price of every part
of Marianne's dress; could have guessed the number of her gowns
altogether with better judgment than Marianne herself; and was not
without hopes of finding out, before they parted, how much her washing
cost per week, and how much she had every year to spend upon
herself. The impertinence of these kind of scrutinies, moreover, was
generally concluded with a compliment, which, though meant as its
douceur, was considered by Marianne as the greatest impertinence of
all; for after undergoing an examination into the value and make of
her gown, the colour of her shoes, and the arrangement of her hair,
she was almost sure of being told, that "upon her word she looked
vastly smart, and she dared to say she would make a great many conquests."
With such encouragement as this, was she dismissed, on the present
occasion, to her brother's carriage; which they were ready to enter
five minutes after it stopped at the door, a punctuality not very
agreeable to their sister-in-law, who had preceded them to the house
of her acquaintance, and was there hoping for some delay on their
part, that might inconvenience either herself or her coachman.
The events of this evening were not very remarkable. The party,
like other musical parties, comprehended a great many people who had
real taste for the performance, and a great many more who had none
at all; and the performers themselves were, as usual, in their own
estimation, and that of their immediate friends, the first private
performers in England.
As Elinor was neither musical, nor affecting to be so, she made no
scruple of turning her eyes from the grand piano-forte whenever it
suited her, and unrestrained even by the presence of a harp, and
violincello, would fix them at pleasure on any other object in the
room. In one of these excursive glances she perceived, among a group
of young men, the very he, who had given them a lecture on
toothpick-cases, at Gray's. She perceived him soon afterwards
looking at herself, and speaking familiary to her brother; and had
just determined to find out his name from the latter, when they both
came towards her, and Mr. Dashwood introduced him to her as Mr. Robert Ferrars.
He addressed her with easy civility, and twisted his head into a
bow, which assured her, as plainly as words could have done, that he
was exactly the coxcomb she had heard him described to be by Lucy.
Happy had it been for her, if her regard for Edward had depended
less on his own merit, than on the merit of his nearest relations! For
then his brother's bow must have given the finishing stroke to what
the ill-humour of his mother and sister would have begun. But while
she wondered at the difference of the two young men, she did not
find that the emptiness of conceit of the one put her out of all
charity with the modesty and worth of the other. Why they were
different, Robert explained to her himself, in the course of a quarter
of an hour's conversation; for, talking of his brother, and
lamenting the extreme gaucherie which he really believed kept him from
mixing in proper society, he candidly and generously attributed it
much less to any natural deficiency, than to the misfortune of a
private education; while he himself, though probably without any
particular, any material superiority by nature, merely from the
advantage of a public school, was as well fitted to mix in the world
as any other man.
"Upon my soul," he added, "I believe it is nothing more; and so
I often tell my mother, when she is grieving about it. 'My dear
madam,' I always say to her, 'you must make yourself easy. The evil is
now irremediable, and it has been entirely your own doing. Why would
you be persuaded by my uncle, Sir Robert, against your own judgment,
to place Edward under private tuition, at the most critical time of
his life? If you had only sent him to Westminster as well as myself,
instead of sending him to Mr. Pratt's, all this would have been
prevented.' This is the way in which I always consider the matter, and
my mother is perfectly convinced of her error."
Elinor would not oppose his opinion, because, whatever might be
her general estimation of the advantage of a public school, she
could not think of Edward's abode in Mr. Pratt's family, with any satisfaction.
"You reside in Devonshire, I think," was his next observation, "in
a cottage near Dawlish?"
Elinor set him right as to its situation; and it seemed rather
surprising to him, that anybody could live in Devonshire, without
living near Dawlish. He bestowed his hearty approbation, however, on
their species of house.
"For my own part," said he, "I am excessively fond of a cottage;
there is always so much comfort, so much elegance about them. And I
protest, if I had any money to spare, I should buy a little land and
build one myself, within a short distance of London, where I might
drive myself down at any time, and collect a few friends about me, and
be happy. I advise everybody who is going to build, to build a
cottage. My friend Lord Courtland came to me the other day on
purpose to ask my advice, and laid before me three different plans
of Bonomi's. I was to decide on the best of them. 'My dear Courtland.'
said I, immediately throwing them all into the fire, 'do not adopt
either of them, but by all means build a cottage.' And that I fancy,
will be the end of it.
"Some people imagine that there can be no accommodations, no space
in a cottage; but this is all a mistake. I was last month at my friend
Elliott's, near Dartford. Lady Elliott wished to give a dance. 'But
how can it be done?' said she: 'my dear Ferrars, do tell me how it
is to be managed. There is not a room in this cottage that will hold
ten couple; and where can the supper be?' I immediately saw that there
could be no difficulty in it, so I said, 'My dear Lady Elliott, do not
be uneasy. The dining-parlour will admit eighteen couple with ease;
card-tables may be placed in the drawing-room; the library may be open
for tea and other refreshments; and let the supper be set out in the
saloon.' Lady Elliott was delighted with the thought. We measured
the dining-room, and found it would hold exactly eighteen couple,- and
the affair was arranged precisely after my plan. So that, in fact, you
see, if people do but know how to set about it, every comfort may be
as well enjoyed in a cottage as in the most spacious dwelling." Elinor
agreed to it; she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational
opposition. As John Dashwood had no more pleasure in music than his eldest
sister, his mind was equally at liberty to fix on anything else; and a
thought struck him, during the evening, which he communicated to his
wife, for her approbation, when they got home. The consideration of
Mrs. Dennison's mistake, in supposing his sisters their guests, had
suggested the propriety of their being really invited to become
such, while Mrs. Jenning's engagements kept her from home. The expense
would be nothing; the inconvenience not more; and it was altogether an
attention which the delicacy of his conscience pointed out to be
requisite to its complete enfranchisement from his promise to his
father. Fanny was startled at the proposal.
"I do not see how it can be done," said she, "without affronting
Lady Middleton, for they spend every day with her; otherwise I
should be exceedingly glad to do it. You know I am always ready to pay
them any attention in my power, as my taking them out this evening
shows. But they are Lady Middleton's visitors. How can I ask them away from her?"
Her husband, but with great humility, did not see the force of her
objection. They had already spent a week in this manner in Conduit
Street, and Lady Middleton could not be displeased at their giving the
same number of days to such near relations.
Fanny paused a moment, and then, with fresh vigor, said,-
"My love I would ask them with all my heart, if it was in my
power. But I had just settled within myself to ask the Misses Steele
to spend a few days with us. They are very well behaved, good kind
of girls; and I think the attention is due to them, as their uncle did
so very well by Edward. We can ask your sisters some other year, you
know; but the Misses Steele may not be in town any more. I am sure you
will like them; indeed, you do like them, you know, very much already,
and so does my mother; and they are such favourites with Harry!"
Mr. Dashwood was convinced. He saw the necessity of inviting the
Misses Steele immediately; and his conscience was pacified by the
resolution of inviting his sisters another year; at the same time,
however, slily suspecting that another year would make the
invitation needless, by bringing Elinor to town as Colonel Brandon's
wife, and Marianne as their visitor.
Fanny rejoicing in her escape, and proud of the ready wit that had
procured it, wrote the next morning to Lucy, to request her company
and her sister's, for some days, in Harley Street, as soon as Lady
Middleton could spare them. This was enough to make Lucy really and
reasonably happy. Mrs. Dashwood seemed actually working for herself;
cherishing all her hopes, and promoting all her views! Such an
opportunity of being with Edward and his family was, above all things,
the most material to her interest, and such an invitation the most
gratifying to her feelings! It was an advantage that could not be
too gratefully acknowledged, nor too speedily made use of; and the
visit to Lady Middleton, which had not before had any precise
limits, was instantly discovered to have been always meant to end in
two days' time.
When the note was shown to Elinor, as it was within ten minutes
after its arrival, it gave her, for the first time, some share in
the expectations of Lucy; for such a mark of uncommon kindness,
vouchsafed on so short an acquaintance, seemed to declare that the
good-will towards her arose from something more than merely malice
against herself; and might be brought, by time and address, to do
everything that Lucy wished. Her flattery had already subdued the
pride of Lady Middleton, and made an entry into the close heart of
Mrs. John Dashwood; and these were effects that laid open the
probability of greater.
The Misses Steele removed to Harley Street; and all that reached
Elinor of their influence there strengthened her expectation of the
event. Sir John, who called on them more than once, brought home
such accounts of the favour they were in, as must be universally
striking. Mrs. Dashwood had never been so much pleased with any
young women in her life, as she was with them; had given each of
them a needle-book made by some emigrant; called Lucy by her Christian
name; and did not know whether she should ever be able to part withthem.
Sense and Sensibility - Chapter 35 Sense and Sensibility Sense and Sensibility - Chapter 37