CHAPTER IV

"What a pity it is, Elinor," said Marianne, "that Edward should have

no taste for drawing."

"No taste for drawing!" replied Elinor, "why should you think so? He

does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the

performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means

deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of

improving it. Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he

would have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such

matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on

any picture; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste,

which in general direct him perfectly right."

Marianne was afraid of offending, and said no more on the subject; but

the kind of approbation which Elinor described as excited in him by

the drawings of other people, was very far from that rapturous

delight, which, in her opinion, could alone be called taste. Yet,

though smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured her sister

for that blind partiality to Edward which produced it.

"I hope, Marianne," continued Elinor, "you do not consider him as

deficient in general taste. Indeed, I think I may say that you cannot,

for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial, and if _that_ were

your opinion, I am sure you could never be civil to him."

Marianne hardly knew what to say. She would not wound the feelings of

her sister on any account, and yet to say what she did not believe was

impossible. At length 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 not had so many

opportunities of estimating the minuter propensities of his mind, his

inclinations and tastes, as you have; but I have the highest opinion

in the world of his goodness and sense. I think him every thing that

is worthy and amiable."

"I am sure," replied Elinor, with a smile, "that his dearest friends

could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that. I do not

perceive how you could express yourself more warmly."

Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased.

"Of his sense and his goodness," continued Elinor, "no one can, I

think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in

unreserved conversation. The excellence of his understanding and his

principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps

him silent. You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth.

But of his minuter propensities, as you call them you have from

peculiar circumstances been kept more ignorant than myself. He and I

have been at times thrown a good deal together, while you have been

wholly engrossed on the most affectionate principle by my mother. I

have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard

his opinion on subjects of literature and taste; and, upon the whole,

I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of

books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation just

and correct, and his taste delicate and pure. His abilities in every

respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person.

At first sight, his address is certainly not striking; and his person

can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which

are uncommonly good, and the general sweetness of his countenance, is

perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really

handsome; or at least, almost so. What say you, Marianne?"

"I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor, if I do not now. When

you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection

in his face, than I now do in his heart."

Elinor started at this declaration, and was sorry for the warmth she

had been betrayed into, in speaking of him. She felt that Edward stood

very high in her opinion. She believed the regard to be mutual; but

she required greater certainty of it to make Marianne's conviction of

their attachment agreeable to her. She knew that what Marianne and her

mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next--that with them,

to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect. She tried to explain

the real state of the case to her sister.

"I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think very highly of

him--that I greatly esteem, that I like him."

Marianne here burst forth with indignation--

"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than

cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I

will leave the room this moment."

Elinor could not help laughing. "Excuse me," said she; "and be assured

that I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my

own feelings. Believe them to be stronger than I have declared;

believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the

suspicion--the hope--of his affection for me may warrant, without

imprudence or folly. But farther than this you must not believe. I am

by no means assured of his regard for me. There are moments when the

extent of it seems doubtful; and till his sentiments are fully known,

you cannot wonder at my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own

partiality, by believing or calling it more than it is. In my heart I

feel little--scarcely any doubt of his preference. But there are other

points to be considered besides his inclination. He is very far from

being independent. What his mother really is we cannot know; but, from

Fanny's occasional mention of her conduct and opinions, we have never

been disposed to think her amiable; and I am very much mistaken if

Edward is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in

his way, if he were to wish to marry a woman who had not either a

great fortune or high rank."

Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother

and herself had outstripped the truth.

"And you really are not engaged to him!" said she. "Yet it certainly

soon will happen. But two advantages will proceed from this delay. I

shall not lose you so soon, and Edward will have greater opportunity

of improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must

be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. Oh! if he

should be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to draw

himself, how delightful it would be!"

Elinor had given her real opinion to her sister. She could not

consider her partiality for Edward in so prosperous a state as

Marianne had believed it. There was, at times, a want of spirits about

him which, if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something

almost as unpromising. A doubt of her regard, supposing him to feel

it, need not give him more than inquietude. It would not be likely to

produce that dejection of mind which frequently attended him. A more

reasonable cause might be found in the dependent situation which

forbade the indulgence of his affection. She knew that his mother

neither behaved to him so as to make his home comfortable at present,

nor to give him any assurance that he might form a home for himself,

without strictly attending to her views for his aggrandizement. With

such a knowledge as this, it was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on

the subject. She was far from depending on that result of his

preference of her, which her mother and sister still considered as

certain. Nay, the longer they were together the more doubtful seemed

the nature of his regard; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes,

she believed it to be no more than friendship.

But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, when

perceived by his sister, to make her uneasy, and at the same time,

(which was still more common,) to make her uncivil. She took the first

opportunity of affronting her mother-in-law on the occasion, talking

to her so expressively of her brother's great expectations, of Mrs.

Ferrars's resolution that both her sons should marry well, and of the

danger attending any young woman who attempted to _draw him in_, that

Mrs. Dashwood could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to

be calm. She gave her an answer which marked her contempt, and

instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might be the

inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, her beloved Elinor

should not be exposed another week to such insinuations.

In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered to her from the

post, which contained a proposal particularly well timed. It was the

offer of a small house, on very easy terms, belonging to a relation of

her own, a gentleman of consequence and property in 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; and though the house he now offered her was merely a

cottage, he assured her that everything should be done to it which she

might think necessary, if the situation pleased her. He earnestly

pressed her, after giving the particulars of the house and garden, to

come with her daughters to Barton Park, the place of his own

residence, from whence she might judge, herself, whether Barton

Cottage, for the houses were in the same parish, could, by any

alteration, be made comfortable to her. He seemed really anxious to

accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written in so

friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure to his cousin;

more especially at a moment when she was suffering under the cold and

unfeeling behaviour of her nearer connections. She needed no time for

deliberation or inquiry. Her resolution was formed as she read. The

situation of Barton, in a county so far distant from Sussex as

Devonshire, which, but a few hours before, would have been a

sufficient objection to outweigh every possible advantage belonging to

the place, was now its first recommendation. To quit the neighbourhood

of Norland was no longer an evil; it was an object of desire; it was a

blessing, in comparison of the misery of continuing her

daughter-in-law's guest; and to remove for ever from that beloved

place would be less painful than to inhabit or visit it while such a

woman was its mistress. She instantly wrote Sir John Middleton her

acknowledgment of his kindness, and her acceptance of his proposal;

and then hastened to show both letters to her daughters, that she

might be secure of their approbation before her answer were sent.

Elinor had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle

at some distance from Norland, than immediately amongst their present

acquaintance. On _that_ head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose

her mother's intention of removing into Devonshire. The house, too, as

described by Sir John, was on so simple a scale, and the rent so

uncommonly moderate, as to leave her no right of objection on either

point; and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought any

charm to her fancy, though it was a removal from the vicinity of

Norland beyond her wishes, she made no attempt to dissuade her mother

from sending a letter of acquiescence.