After a proper resistance on the part of Mrs. Ferrars, just so violent
and so steady as to preserve her from that reproach which she always
seemed fearful of incurring, the reproach of being too amiable, Edward
was admitted to her presence, and pronounced to be again her son.
Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. For many years of
her life she had had two sons; but the crime and annihilation of
Edward a few weeks ago, had robbed her of one; the similar
annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any; and
now, by the resuscitation of Edward, she had one again.
In spite of his being allowed once more to live, however, he did not
feel the continuance of his existence secure, till he had revealed his
present engagement; for the publication of that circumstance, he
feared, might give a sudden turn to his constitution, and carry him
off as rapidly as before. With apprehensive caution therefore it was
revealed, and he was listened to with unexpected calmness. Mrs.
Ferrars at first reasonably endeavoured to dissuade him from marrying
Miss Dashwood, by every argument in her power; told him, that in Miss
Morton he would have a woman of higher rank and larger fortune; and
enforced the assertion, by observing that Miss Morton was the daughter
of a nobleman with thirty thousand pounds, while Miss Dashwood was
only the daughter of a private gentleman with no more than _three_;
but when she found that, though perfectly admitting the truth of her
representation, he was by no means inclined to be guided by it, she
judged it wisest, from the experience of the past, to submit; and
therefore, after such an ungracious delay as she owed to her own
dignity, and as served to prevent every suspicion of good-will, she
issued her decree of consent to the marriage of Edward and Elinor.
What she would engage to do towards augmenting their income was next
to be considered; and here it plainly appeared, that though Edward was
now her only son, he was by no means her eldest; for while Robert was
inevitably endowed with a thousand pounds a-year, not the smallest
objection was made against Edward's taking orders for the sake of two
hundred and fifty at the utmost; nor was anything promised either for
the present or in future, beyond the ten thousand pounds, which had
been given with Fanny.
It was as much, however, as was desired, and more than was expected,
by Edward and Elinor; and Mrs. Ferrars herself, by her shuffling
excuses, seemed the only person surprised at her not giving more.
With an income quite sufficient to their wants thus secured to them,
they had nothing to wait for after Edward was in possession of the
living, but the readiness of the house, to which Colonel Brandon, with
an eager desire for the accommodation of Elinor, was making
considerable improvements; and after waiting some time for their
completion, after experiencing, as usual, a thousand disappointments
and delays from the unaccountable dilatoriness of the workmen, Elinor,
as usual, broke through the first positive resolution of not marrying
till every thing was ready, and the ceremony took place in Barton
church early in the autumn.
The first month after their marriage was spent with their friend at
the Mansion-house; from whence they could superintend the progress of
the Parsonage, and direct every thing as they liked on the
spot;--could choose papers, project shrubberies, and invent a sweep.
Mrs. Jennings's prophecies, though rather jumbled together, were
chiefly fulfilled; for she was able to visit Edward and his wife in
their Parsonage by Michaelmas, and she found in Elinor and her
husband, as she really believed, one of the happiest couples in the
world. They had in fact nothing to wish for, but the marriage of
Colonel Brandon and Marianne, and rather better pasturage for their
cows.
They were visited on their first settling by almost all their
relations and friends. Mrs. Ferrars came to inspect the happiness
which she was almost ashamed of having authorised; and even the
Dashwoods were at the expense of a journey from Sussex to do them
honour.
"I will not say that I am disappointed, my dear sister," said John, as
they were walking together one morning before the gates of Delaford
House, "_that_ would be saying too much, for certainly you have been
one of the most fortunate young women in the world, as it is. But, I
confess, it would give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon
brother. His property here, his place, his house,--every thing is in
such respectable and excellent condition! And his woods,--I have not
seen such timber any where in Dorsetshire, as there is now standing in
Delaford Hanger! And though, perhaps, Marianne may not seem exactly
the person to attract him, yet I think it would altogether be
advisable for you to have them now frequently staying with you, for as
Colonel Brandon seems a great deal at home, nobody can tell what may
happen; for, when people are much thrown together, and see little of
anybody else,--and it will always be in your power to set her off to
advantage, and so forth. In short, you may as well give her a chance;
You understand me."
But though Mrs. Ferrars _did_ come to see them, and always treated
them with the make-believe of decent affection, they were never
insulted by her real favour and preference. _That_ was due to the
folly of Robert, and the cunning of his wife; and it was earned by
them before many months had passed away. The selfish sagacity of the
latter, which had at first drawn Robert into the scrape, was the
principal instrument of his deliverance from it; for her respectful
humility, assiduous attentions, and endless flatteries, as soon as the
smallest opening was given for their exercise, reconciled Mrs. Ferrars
to his choice, and re-established him completely in her favour.
[Illustration: _Everything in such respectable condition_]
The whole of Lucy's behaviour in the affair, and the prosperity which
crowned it, therefore, may be held forth as a most encouraging
instance of what an earnest, an unceasing attention to self-interest,
however its progress may be apparently obstructed, will do in securing
every advantage of fortune, with no other sacrifice than that of time
and conscience. When Robert first sought her acquaintance, and
privately visited her in Bartlett's Buildings, it was only with the
view imputed to him by his brother. He merely meant to persuade her to
give up the engagement; and as there could be nothing to overcome but
the affection of both, he naturally expected that one or two
interviews would settle the matter. In that point, however, and that
only, he erred; for though Lucy soon gave him hopes that his eloquence
would convince her in _time_, another visit, another conversation, was
always wanted to produce this conviction. Some doubts always lingered
in her mind when they parted, which could only be removed by another
half hour's discourse with himself. His attendance was by this means
secured, and the rest followed in course. Instead of talking of
Edward, they came gradually to talk only of Robert,--a subject on
which he had always more to say than on any other, and in which she
soon betrayed an interest even equal to his own; and in short, it
became speedily evident to both, that he had entirely supplanted his
brother. He was proud of his conquest, proud of tricking Edward, and
very proud of marrying privately without his mother's consent. What
immediately followed is known. They passed some months in great
happiness at Dawlish; for she had many relations and old acquaintances
to cut--and he drew several plans for magnificent cottages; and from
thence returning to town, procured the forgiveness of Mrs. Ferrars, by
the simple expedient of asking it, which, at Lucy's instigation, was
adopted. The forgiveness, at first, indeed, as was reasonable,
comprehended only Robert; and Lucy, who had owed his mother no duty
and therefore could have transgressed none, still remained some weeks
longer unpardoned. But perseverance in humility of conduct and
messages, in self-condemnation for Robert's offence, and gratitude for
the unkindness she was treated with, procured her in time the haughty
notice which overcame her by its graciousness, and led soon
afterwards, by rapid degrees, to the highest state of affection and
influence. Lucy became as necessary to Mrs. Ferrars, as either Robert
or Fanny; and while Edward was never cordially forgiven for having
once intended to marry her, and Elinor, though superior to her in
fortune and birth, was spoken of as an intruder, _she_ was in every
thing considered, and always openly acknowledged, to be a favourite
child. They settled in town, received very liberal assistance from
Mrs. Ferrars, were on the best terms imaginable with the Dashwoods;
and setting aside the jealousies and ill-will continually subsisting
between Fanny and Lucy, in which their husbands of course took a part,
as well as the frequent domestic disagreements between Robert and Lucy
themselves, nothing could exceed the harmony in which they all lived
together.
What Edward had done to forfeit the right of eldest son, might have
puzzled many people to find out; and what Robert had done to succeed
to it, might have puzzled them still more. It was an arrangement,
however, justified in its effects, if not in its cause; for nothing
ever appeared in Robert's style of living or of talking to give a
suspicion of his regretting the extent of his income, as either
leaving his brother too little, or bringing himself too much;--and if
Edward might be judged from the ready discharge of his duties in every
particular, from an increasing attachment to his wife and his home,
and from the regular cheerfulness of his spirits, he might be supposed
no less contented with his lot, no less free from every wish of an
exchange.
Elinor's marriage divided her as little from her family as could well
be contrived, without rendering the cottage at Barton entirely
useless, for her mother and sisters spent much more than half their
time with her. Mrs. Dashwood was acting on motives of policy as well
as pleasure in the frequency of her visits at Delaford; for her wish
of bringing Marianne and Colonel Brandon together was hardly less
earnest, though rather more liberal than what John had expressed. It
was now her darling object. Precious as was the company of her
daughter to her, she desired nothing so much as to give up its
constant enjoyment to her valued friend; and to see Marianne settled
at the mansion-house was equally the wish of Edward and Elinor. They
each felt his sorrows, and their own obligations, and Marianne, by
general consent, was to be the reward of all.
With such a confederacy against her--with a knowledge so intimate of
his goodness--with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself,
which at last, though long after it was observable to everybody
else--burst on her--what could she do?
Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to
discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her
conduct, her most favourite maxims. She was born to overcome an
affection formed so late in life as at seventeen, and with no
sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily
to give her hand to another!--and _that_ other, a man who had suffered
no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom, two
years before, she had considered too old to be married,--and who still
sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat!
But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible
passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting,
instead of remaining even for ever with her mother, and finding her
only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm
and sober judgment she had determined on,--she found herself at
nineteen, submitting to new attachments, entering on new duties,
placed in a new home, a wife, the mistress of a family, and the
patroness of a village.
Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him,
believed he deserved to be;--in Marianne he was consoled for every
past affliction;--her regard and her society restored his mind to
animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found
her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and
delight of each observing friend. Marianne could never love by halves;
and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband,
as it had once been to Willoughby.
Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his
punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness
of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character,
as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had
he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been
happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought
its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;--nor that he
long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with
regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from
society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a
broken heart, must not be depended on--for he did neither. He lived to
exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of
humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses
and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable
degree of domestic felicity.
For Marianne, however, in spite of his incivility in surviving her
loss, he always retained that decided regard which interested him in
every thing that befell her, and made her his secret standard of
perfection in woman; and many a rising beauty would be slighted by him
in after-days as bearing no comparison with Mrs. Brandon.
Mrs. Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage, without
attempting a removal to Delaford; and fortunately for Sir John and
Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken from them, Margaret had
reached an age highly suitable for dancing, and not very ineligible
for being supposed to have a lover.
Between Barton and Delaford, there was that constant communication
which strong family affection would naturally dictate;--and among the
merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked
as the least considerable, that though sisters, and living almost
within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement
between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands.
THE END