CHAPTER VII

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 insatiable 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 amounted 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.