CHAPTER 23
However small Elinor's general dependence on Lucy's veracity might be,it was impossible for her on serious reflection to suspect it in thepresent case, where no temptation could be answerable to the folly ofinventing a falsehood of such a description. What Lucy had asserted tobe true, therefore, Elinor could not, dared not longer doubt; supportedas it was too on every side by such probabilities and proofs, andcontradicted by nothing but her own wishes. Their opportunity ofacquaintance in the house of Mr. Pratt was a foundation for the rest,at once indisputable and alarming; and Edward's visit near Plymouth,his melancholy state of mind, his dissatisfaction at his own prospects,his uncertain behaviour towards herself, the intimate knowledge of theMiss Steeles as to Norland and their family connections, which hadoften surprised her, the picture, the letter, the ring, formedaltogether such a body of evidence, as overcame every fear ofcondemning him unfairly, and established as a fact, which no partialitycould set aside, his ill-treatment of herself.--Her resentment of suchbehaviour, her indignation at having been its dupe, for a short timemade her feel only for herself; but other ideas, other considerations,soon arose. Had Edward been intentionally deceiving her? Had hefeigned a regard for her which he did not feel? Was his engagement toLucy an engagement of the heart? No; whatever it might once have been,she could not believe it such at present. His affection was all herown. She could not be deceived in that. Her mother, sisters, Fanny,all had been conscious of his regard for her at Norland; it was not anillusion of her own vanity. He certainly loved her. What a softenerof the heart was this persuasion! How much could it not tempt her toforgive! He had been blamable, highly blamable, in remaining atNorland after he first felt her influence over him to be more than itought to be. In that, he could not be defended; but if he had injuredher, how much more had he injured himself; if her case were pitiable,his was hopeless. His imprudence had made her miserable for a while;but it seemed to have deprived himself of all chance of ever beingotherwise. She might in time regain tranquillity; but HE, what had heto look forward to? Could he ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele;could he, were his affection for herself out of the question, with hisintegrity, his delicacy, and well-informed mind, be satisfied with awife like her--illiterate, artful, and selfish?
The youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally blind him to everything but her beauty and good nature; but the four succeedingyears--years, which if rationally spent, give such improvement to theunderstanding, must have opened his eyes to her defects of education,while the same period of time, spent on her side in inferior societyand more frivolous pursuits, had perhaps robbed her of that simplicitywhich might once have given an interesting character to her beauty.
If in the supposition of his seeking to marry herself, his difficultiesfrom his mother had seemed great, how much greater were they now likelyto be, when the object of his engagement was undoubtedly inferior inconnections, and probably inferior in fortune to herself. Thesedifficulties, indeed, with a heart so alienated from Lucy, might notpress very hard upon his patience; but melancholy was the state of theperson by whom the expectation of family opposition and unkindness,could be felt as a relief!
As these considerations occurred to her in painful succession, she weptfor him, more than for herself. Supported by the conviction of havingdone nothing to merit her present unhappiness, and consoled by thebelief that Edward had done nothing to forfeit her esteem, she thoughtshe could even now, under the first smart of the heavy blow, commandherself enough to guard every suspicion of the truth from her motherand sisters. And so well was she able to answer her own expectations,that when she joined them at dinner only two hours after she had firstsuffered the extinction of all her dearest hopes, no one would havesupposed from the appearance of the sisters, that Elinor was mourningin secret over obstacles which must divide her for ever from the objectof her love, and that Marianne was internally dwelling on theperfections of a man, of whose whole heart she felt thoroughlypossessed, and whom she expected to see in every carriage which drovenear their house.
The necessity of concealing from her mother and Marianne, what had beenentrusted in confidence to herself, though it obliged her to unceasingexertion, was no aggravation of Elinor's distress. On the contrary itwas a relief to her, to be spared the communication of what would givesuch affliction to them, and to be saved likewise from hearing thatcondemnation of Edward, which would probably flow from the excess oftheir partial affection for herself, and which was more than she feltequal to support.
From their counsel, or their conversation, she knew she could receiveno assistance, their tenderness and sorrow must add to her distress,while her self-command would neither receive encouragement from theirexample nor from their praise. She was stronger alone, and her owngood sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken,her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as with regrets sopoignant and so fresh, it was possible for them to be.
Much as she had suffered from her first conversation with Lucy on thesubject, she soon felt an earnest wish of renewing it; and this formore reasons than one. She wanted to hear many particulars of theirengagement repeated again, she wanted more clearly to understand whatLucy really felt for Edward, whether there were any sincerity in herdeclaration of tender regard for him, and she particularly wanted toconvince Lucy, by her readiness to enter on the matter again, and hercalmness in conversing on it, that she was no otherwise interested init than as a friend, which she very much feared her involuntaryagitation, in their morning discourse, must have left at leastdoubtful. That Lucy was disposed to be jealous of her appeared veryprobable: it was plain that Edward had always spoken highly in herpraise, not merely from Lucy's assertion, but from her venturing totrust her on so short a personal acquaintance, with a secret soconfessedly and evidently important. And even Sir John's jokingintelligence must have had some weight. But indeed, while Elinorremained so well assured within herself of being really beloved byEdward, it required no other consideration of probabilities to make itnatural that Lucy should be jealous; and that she was so, her veryconfidence was a proof. What other reason for the disclosure of theaffair could there be, but that Elinor might be informed by it ofLucy's superior claims on Edward, and be taught to avoid him in future?She had little difficulty in understanding thus much of her rival'sintentions, and while she was firmly resolved to act by her as everyprinciple of honour and honesty directed, to combat her own affectionfor Edward and to see him as little as possible; she could not denyherself the comfort of endeavouring to convince Lucy that her heart wasunwounded. And as she could now have nothing more painful to hear onthe subject than had already been told, she did not mistrust her ownability of going through a repetition of particulars with composure.
But it was not immediately that an opportunity of doing so could becommanded, though Lucy was as well disposed as herself to takeadvantage of any that occurred; for the weather was not often fineenough to allow of their joining in a walk, where they might mosteasily separate themselves from the others; and though they met atleast every other evening either at the park or cottage, and chiefly atthe former, they could not be supposed to meet for the sake ofconversation. Such a thought would never enter either Sir John or LadyMiddleton's head; and therefore very little leisure was ever given fora general chat, and none at all for particular discourse. They met forthe sake of eating, drinking, and laughing together, playing at cards,or consequences, or any other game that was sufficiently noisy.
One or two meetings of this kind had taken place, without affordingElinor any chance of engaging Lucy in private, when Sir John called atthe cottage one morning, to beg, in the name of charity, that theywould all dine with Lady Middleton that day, as he was obliged toattend the club at Exeter, and she would otherwise be quite alone,except her mother and the two Miss Steeles. Elinor, who foresaw afairer opening for the point she had in view, in such a party as thiswas likely to be, more at liberty among themselves under the tranquiland well-bred direction of Lady Middleton than when her husband unitedthem together in one noisy purpose, immediately accepted theinvitation; Margaret, with her mother's permission, was equallycompliant, and Marianne, though always unwilling to join any of theirparties, was persuaded by her mother, who could not bear to have herseclude herself from any chance of amusement, to go likewise.
The young ladies went, and Lady Middleton was happily preserved fromthe frightful solitude which had threatened her. The insipidity of themeeting was exactly such as Elinor had expected; it produced not onenovelty of thought or expression, and nothing could be less interestingthan the whole of their discourse both in the dining parlour anddrawing room: to the latter, the children accompanied them, and whilethey remained there, she was too well convinced of the impossibility ofengaging Lucy's attention to attempt it. They quitted it only with theremoval of the tea-things. The card-table was then placed, and Elinorbegan to wonder at herself for having ever entertained a hope offinding time for conversation at the park. They all rose up inpreparation for a round game.
I am glad, said Lady Middleton to Lucy, you are not going to finishpoor little Annamaria's basket this evening; for I am sure it must hurtyour eyes to work filigree by candlelight. And we will make the dearlittle love some amends for her disappointment to-morrow, and then Ihope she will not much mind it.
This hint was enough, Lucy recollected herself instantly and replied,Indeed you are very much mistaken, Lady Middleton; I am only waitingto know whether you can make your party without me, or I should havebeen at my filigree already. I would not disappoint the little angelfor all the world: and if you want me at the card-table now, I amresolved to finish the basket after supper.
You are very good, I hope it won't hurt your eyes--will you ring thebell for some working candles? My poor little girl would be sadlydisappointed, I know, if the basket was not finished tomorrow, forthough I told her it certainly would not, I am sure she depends uponhaving it done.
Lucy directly drew her work table near her and reseated herself with analacrity and cheerfulness which seemed to infer that she could taste nogreater delight than in making a filigree basket for a spoilt child.
Lady Middleton proposed a rubber of Casino to the others. No one madeany objection but Marianne, who with her usual inattention to the formsof general civility, exclaimed, Your Ladyship will have the goodnessto excuse ME--you know I detest cards. I shall go to the piano-forte;I have not touched it since it was tuned. And without fartherceremony, she turned away and walked to the instrument.
Lady Middleton looked as if she thanked heaven that SHE had never madeso rude a speech.
Marianne can never keep long from that instrument you know, ma'am,said Elinor, endeavouring to smooth away the offence; and I do notmuch wonder at it; for it is the very best toned piano-forte I everheard.
The remaining five were now to draw their cards.
Perhaps, continued Elinor, if I should happen to cut out, I may beof some use to Miss Lucy Steele, in rolling her papers for her; andthere is so much still to be done to the basket, that it must beimpossible I think for her labour singly, to finish it this evening. Ishould like the work exceedingly, if she would allow me a share in it.
Indeed I shall be very much obliged to you for your help, cried Lucy,for I find there is more to be done to it than I thought there was;and it would be a shocking thing to disappoint dear Annamaria afterall.
Oh! that would be terrible, indeed, said Miss Steele-- Dear littlesoul, how I do love her!
You are very kind, said Lady Middleton to Elinor; and as you reallylike the work, perhaps you will be as well pleased not to cut in tillanother rubber, or will you take your chance now?
Elinor joyfully profited by the first of these proposals, and thus by alittle of that address which Marianne could never condescend topractise, gained her own end, and pleased Lady Middleton at the sametime. Lucy made room for her with ready attention, and the two fairrivals were thus seated side by side at the same table, and, with theutmost harmony, engaged in forwarding the same work. The pianoforte atwhich Marianne, wrapped up in her own music and her own thoughts, hadby this time forgotten that any body was in the room besides herself,was luckily so near them that Miss Dashwood now judged she mightsafely, under the shelter of its noise, introduce the interestingsubject, without any risk of being heard at the card-table.