CHAPTER XXI

The Palmers returned to Cleveland the next day, and the two families

at Barton were again left to entertain each other. But this did not

last long; Elinor had hardly got their last visitors out of her head,

had hardly done wondering at Charlotte's being so happy without a

cause, at Mr. Palmer's acting so simply, with good abilities, and at

the strange unsuitableness which often existed between husband and

wife, before Sir John's and Mrs. Jennings's active zeal in the cause

of society, procured her some other new acquaintance to see and

observe.

In a morning's excursion to Exeter, they had met with two young

ladies, whom Mrs. Jennings had the satisfaction of discovering to be

her relations, and this was enough for Sir John to invite them

directly to the park, as soon as their present engagements at Exeter

were over. Their engagements at Exeter instantly gave way before such

an invitation, and Lady Middleton was thrown into no little alarm on

the return of Sir John, by hearing that she was very soon to receive a

visit from two girls whom she had never seen in her life, and of whose

elegance--whose tolerable gentility even--she could have no proof; for

the assurances of her husband and mother on that subject went for

nothing at all. Their being her relations too made it so much the

worse; and Mrs. Jennings's attempts at consolation were therefore

unfortunately founded, when she advised her daughter not to care about

their being so fashionable; because they were all cousins and must put

up with one another. As it was impossible, however, now to prevent

their coming, Lady Middleton resigned herself to the idea of it, with

all the philosophy of a well-bred woman, contenting herself with

merely giving her husband a gentle reprimand on the subject five or

six times every day.

The young ladies arrived: their appearance was by no means ungenteel

or unfashionable. Their dress was very smart, their manners very

civil, they were delighted with the house, and in raptures with the

furniture, and they happened to be so doatingly fond of children that

Lady Middleton's good opinion was engaged in their favour before they

had been an hour at the Park. She declared them to be very agreeable

girls indeed, which for her ladyship was enthusiastic admiration. Sir

John's confidence in his own judgment rose with this animated praise,

and he set off directly for the cottage to tell the Miss Dashwoods of

the Miss Steeles' arrival, and to assure them of their being the

sweetest girls in the world. From such commendation as this, however,

there was not much to be learned; Elinor well knew that the sweetest

girls in the world were to be met with in every part of England, under

every possible variation of form, face, temper and understanding. Sir

John wanted the whole family to walk to the Park directly and look at

his guests. Benevolent, philanthropic man! It was painful to him even

to keep a third cousin to himself.

"Do come now," said he--"pray come--you must come--I declare you shall

come--You can't think how you will like them. Lucy is monstrous

pretty, and so good humoured and agreeable! The children are all

hanging about her already, as if she was an old acquaintance. And they

both long to see you of all things, for they have heard at Exeter that

you are the most beautiful creatures in the world; and I have told

them it is all very true, and a great deal more. You will be delighted

with them I am sure. They have brought the whole coach full of

playthings for the children. How can you be so cross as not to come?

Why they are your cousins, you know, after a fashion. _You_ are my

cousins, and they are my wife's, so you must be related."

But Sir John could not prevail. He could only obtain a promise of

their calling at the Park within a day or two, and then left them in

amazement at their indifference, to walk home and boast anew of their

attractions to the Miss Steeles, as he had been already boasting of

the Miss Steeles to them.

When their promised visit to the Park and consequent introduction to

these young ladies took place, they found in the appearance of the

eldest, who was nearly thirty, with a very plain and not a sensible

face, nothing to admire; but in the other, who was not more than two

or three and twenty, they acknowledged considerable beauty; her

features were pretty, and she had a sharp quick eye, and a smartness

of air, which though it did not give actual elegance or grace, gave

distinction to her person. Their manners were particularly civil, and

Elinor soon allowed them credit for some kind of sense, when she saw

with what constant and judicious attention they were making themselves

agreeable to Lady Middleton. With her children they were in continual

raptures, extolling their beauty, courting their notice, and humouring

their whims; and such of their time as could be spared from the

importunate demands which this politeness made on it, was spent in

admiration of whatever her ladyship was doing, if she happened to be

doing any thing, or in taking patterns of some elegant new dress, in

which her appearance the day before had thrown them into unceasing

delight. Fortunately for those who pay their court through such

foibles, a fond mother, though, in pursuit of praise for her children,

the most rapacious of human beings, is likewise the most credulous;

her demands are exorbitant; but she will swallow any thing; and the

excessive affection and endurance of the Miss Steeles towards her

offspring were viewed therefore by Lady Middleton without the smallest

surprise or distrust. She saw with maternal complacency all the

impertinent encroachments and mischievous tricks to which her cousins

submitted. She saw their sashes untied, their hair pulled about their

ears, their work-bags searched, and their knives and scissors stolen

away, and felt no doubt of its being a reciprocal enjoyment. It

suggested no other surprise than that Elinor and Marianne should sit

so composedly by, without claiming a share in what was passing.

"John is in such spirits today!" said she, on his taking Miss Steele's

pocket handkerchief, and throwing it out of window--"He is full of

monkey tricks."

And soon afterwards, on the second boy's violently pinching one of the

same lady's fingers, she fondly observed, "How playful William is!"

[Illustration: _Mischievous tricks._]

"And here is my sweet little Annamaria," she added, tenderly caressing

a little girl of three years old, who had not made a noise for the

last two minutes; "And she is always so gentle and quiet--Never was

there such a quiet little thing!"

But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces, a pin in her ladyship's

head dress slightly scratching the child's neck, produced from this

pattern of gentleness such violent screams, as could hardly be outdone

by any creature professedly noisy. The mother's consternation was

excessive; but it could not surpass the alarm of the Miss Steeles, and

every thing was done by all three, in so critical an emergency, which

affection could suggest as likely to assuage the agonies of the little

sufferer. She was seated in her mother's lap, covered with kisses, her

wound bathed with lavender-water, by one of the Miss Steeles, who was

on her knees to attend her, and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by

the other. With such a reward for her tears, the child was too wise to

cease crying. She still screamed and sobbed lustily, kicked her two

brothers for offering to touch her, and all their united soothings

were ineffectual till Lady Middleton luckily remembering that in a

scene of similar distress last week, some apricot marmalade had been

successfully applied for a bruised temple, the same remedy was eagerly

proposed for this unfortunate scratch, and a slight intermission of

screams in the young lady on hearing it, gave them reason to hope that

it would not be rejected. She was carried out of the room therefore in

her mother's arms, in quest of this medicine, and as the two boys

chose to follow, though earnestly entreated by their mother to stay

behind, the four young ladies were left in a quietness which the room

had not known for many hours.

"Poor little creatures!" said Miss Steele, as soon as they were gone.

"It might have been a very sad accident."

"Yet I hardly know how," cried Marianne, "unless it had been under

totally different circumstances. But this is the usual way of

heightening alarm, where there is nothing to be alarmed at in

reality."

"What a sweet woman Lady Middleton is!" said Lucy Steele.

Marianne was silent; it was impossible for her to say what she did not

feel, however trivial the occasion; and upon Elinor therefore the

whole task of telling lies when politeness required it, always fell.

She did her best when thus called on, by speaking of Lady Middleton

with more warmth than she felt, though with far less than Miss Lucy.

"And Sir John too," cried the elder sister, "what a charming man he

is!"

Here too, Miss Dashwood's commendation, being only simple and just,

came in without any eclat. She merely observed that he was perfectly

good humoured and friendly.

"And what a charming little family they have! I never saw such fine

children in my life. I declare I quite doat upon them already, and

indeed I am always distractedly fond of children."

"I should guess so," said Elinor, with a smile, "from what I have

witnessed this morning."

"I have a notion," said Lucy, "you think the little Middletons rather

too much indulged; perhaps they may be the outside of enough; but it

is so natural in Lady Middleton; and for my part, I love to see

children full of life and spirits; I cannot bear them if they are tame

and quiet."

"I confess," replied Elinor, "that while I am at Barton Park, I never

think of tame and quiet children with any abhorrence."

A short pause succeeded this speech, which was first broken by Miss

Steele, who seemed very much disposed for conversation, and who now

said rather abruptly, "And how do you like Devonshire, Miss Dashwood?

I suppose you were very sorry to leave Sussex."

In some surprise at the familiarity of this question, or at least of

the manner in which it was spoken, Elinor replied that she was.

"Norland is a prodigious beautiful place, is not it?" added Miss

Steele.

"We have heard Sir John admire it excessively," said Lucy, who seemed

to think some apology necessary for the freedom of her sister.

"I think every one _must_ admire it," replied Elinor, "who ever saw

the place; though it is not to be supposed that any one can estimate

its beauties as we do."

"And had you a great many smart beaux there? I suppose you have not so

many in this part of the world; for my part, I think they are a vast

addition always."

"But why should you think," said Lucy, looking ashamed of her sister,

"that there are not as many genteel young men in Devonshire as

Sussex?"

"Nay, my dear, I'm sure I don't pretend to say that there an't. I'm

sure there's a vast many smart beaux in Exeter; but you know, how

could I tell what smart beaux there might be about Norland; and I was

only afraid the Miss Dashwoods might find it dull at Barton, if they

had not so many as they used to have. But perhaps you young ladies may

not care about the beaux, and had as lief be without them as with

them. For my part, I think they are vastly agreeable, provided they

dress smart and behave civil. But I can't bear to see them dirty and

nasty. Now there's Mr. Rose at Exeter, a prodigious smart young man,

quite a beau, clerk to Mr. Simpson, you know, and yet if you do but

meet him of a morning, he is not fit to be seen. I suppose your

brother was quite a beau, Miss Dashwood, before he married, as he was

so rich?"

"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "I cannot tell you, for I do not

perfectly comprehend the meaning of the word. But this I can say, that

if he ever was a beau before he married, he is one still for there is

not the smallest alteration in him."

"Oh! dear! one never thinks of married men's being beaux--they have

something else to do."

"Lord! Anne," cried her sister, "you can talk of nothing but

beaux;--you will make Miss Dashwood believe you think of nothing

else." And then to turn the discourse, she began admiring the house

and the furniture.

This specimen of the Miss Steeles was enough. The vulgar freedom and

folly of the eldest left her no recommendation, and as Elinor was not

blinded by the beauty, or the shrewd look of the youngest, to her want

of real elegance and artlessness, she left the house without any wish

of knowing them better.

Not so the Miss Steeles. They came from Exeter, well provided with

admiration for the use of Sir John Middleton, his family, and all his

relations, and no niggardly proportion was now dealt out to his fair

cousins, whom they declared to be the most beautiful, elegant,

accomplished, and agreeable girls they had ever beheld, and with whom

they were particularly anxious to be better acquainted. And to be

better acquainted therefore, Elinor soon found was their inevitable

lot, for as Sir John was entirely on the side of the Miss Steeles,

their party would be too strong for opposition, and that kind of

intimacy must be submitted to, which consists of sitting an hour or

two together in the same room almost every day. Sir John could do no

more; but he did not know that any more was required: to be together

was, in his opinion, to be intimate, and while his continual schemes

for their meeting were effectual, he had not a doubt of their being

established friends.

To do him justice, he did every thing in his power to promote their

unreserve, by making the Miss Steeles acquainted with whatever he knew

or supposed of his cousins' situations in the most delicate

particulars,--and Elinor had not seen them more than twice, before the

eldest of them wished her joy on her sister's having been so lucky as

to make a conquest of a very smart beau since she came to Barton.

"'Twill be a fine thing to have her married so young to be sure," said

she, "and I hear he is quite a beau, and prodigious handsome. And I

hope you may have as good luck yourself soon,--but perhaps you may

have a friend in the corner already."

Elinor could not suppose that Sir John would be more nice in

proclaiming his suspicions of her regard for Edward, than he had been

with respect to Marianne; indeed it was rather his favourite joke of

the two, as being somewhat newer and more conjectural; and since

Edward's visit, they had never dined together without his drinking to

her best affections with so much significancy and so many nods and

winks, as to excite general attention. The letter F had been likewise

invariably brought forward, and found productive of such countless

jokes, that its character as the wittiest letter in the alphabet had

been long established with Elinor.

The Miss Steeles, as she expected, had now all the benefit of these

jokes, and in the eldest of them they raised a curiosity to know the

name of the gentleman alluded to, which, though often impertinently

expressed, was perfectly of a piece with her general inquisitiveness

into the concerns of their family. But Sir John did not sport long

with the curiosity which he delighted to raise, for he had at least as

much pleasure in telling the name, as Miss Steele had in hearing it.

"His name is Ferrars," said he, in a very audible whisper; "but pray

do not tell it, for it's a great secret."

[Illustration: _Drinking to her best affections._]

"Ferrars!" repeated Miss Steele; "Mr. Ferrars is the happy man, is he?

What! your sister-in-law's brother, Miss Dashwood? a very agreeable

young man to be sure; I know him very well."

"How can you say so, Anne?" cried Lucy, who generally made an

amendment to all her sister's assertions. "Though we have seen him

once or twice at my uncle's, it is rather too much to pretend to know

him very well."

Elinor heard all this with attention and surprise. "And who was this

uncle? Where did he live? How came they acquainted?" She wished very

much to have the subject continued, though she did not choose to join

in it herself; but nothing more of it was said, and for the first time

in her life, she thought Mrs. Jennings deficient either in curiosity

after petty information, or in a disposition to communicate it. The

manner in which Miss Steele had spoken of Edward, increased her

curiosity; for it struck her as being rather ill-natured, and

suggested the suspicion of that lady's knowing, or fancying herself to

know something to his disadvantage. But her curiosity was unavailing,

for no farther notice was taken of Mr. Ferrars's name by Miss Steele

when alluded to, or even openly mentioned by Sir John.