3. A handsome stranger
The Miss Dashwoods now began to feel really at home at Barton. They went walking, and practised their drawing and music with far greater enjoyment than at any time since the death of their father. They did not have many visitors, except for those from Barton Park, as there were few other houses within walking distance. There was, in fact, a large, comfortable-looking house about a mile from the cottage, in the village of Allenham, but they heard that its owner, an old lady of good character called Mrs Smith, was unfortunately not well enough to mix in society.
There were beautiful walks all around them, in the green wooded valleys and on the hills behind the cottage. One morning, Marianne and Margaret, taking no notice of their mother's and Elinor's warnings of rain, decided to walk on one of these hills. They climbed to the top, delighted to see blue sky between the clouds, and laughing at the wind that caught at their hair and clothes.
Nothing in the world could be better than this!' called Marianne. 'What a pity mama and Elinor did not come with us!'
But in a few minutes the blue sky disappeared, the dark clouds gathered, and driving rain began to beat down on their faces. Surprised and disappointed, they were forced to turn back. Fortunately, they were not far from home; it was just a matter of running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which led to their garden gate.
At first Marianne was ahead, but a false step brought her suddenly to the ground, and Margaret, unable to stop herself, carried on down the hill and through the garden gate.
A gentleman who was out shooting was walking up the hill when Marianne's accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to help her. She had hurt her ankle, and could not stand. The gentleman offered his assistance, and in spite of Marianne's protests, took her up in his arms and carried her down the hill. He took her straight into the house and placed her carefully on a sofa in the sitting-room.
Elinor and her mother rose in astonishment as the stranger entered, carrying Marianne. While they both looked at him, secretly admiring his unusually handsome appearance, he apologized most politely for his rude entrance. Even if he had been old, ugly and vulgar, Mrs Dashwood would have been extremely grateful to him for taking care of her child, but the influence of his looks and elegance touched her deepest feelings. She thanked him again and again, and asked the name of the person to whom she owed so much. He replied that his name was Willoughby, his present home was at Allenham, and he sincerely hoped that she would allow him to call tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood. Permission was immediately given, and he then departed, to make himself still more interesting, in the middle of a heavy shower of rain.
There was general admiration of his manly beauty. Marianne had seen less of his person than the others, because of her natural confusion when he lifted her in his arms, but his appearance and behaviour seemed all that was perfect to her. Her imagination was busy, her thoughts were pleasant, and the pain of a turned ankle went unnoticed.
When Sir John next visited them, he heard all about Marianne's accident, and was eagerly asked whether he knew of any gentleman of the name of Willoughby at Allenham.
Willoughby!' cried Sir John. 'Of course I do! He comes here every year. I shall invite him to dinner on Thursday.'
What sort of young man is he?'
A good man to know, I can tell you. He shoots well, and there isn't a better rider in England.'
And is that all you can say for him?' cried Marianne. 'But what does he think? What are the interests close to his heart?'
Sir John looked puzzled. 'Well, I don't know as much as that about him. But he's pleasant, and sociable, and has got the nicest little gundog I ever saw. Did you see his dogs.'
But who is he?' asked Elinor. 'Where does he come from? Where does he live? Has he a house at Allenham?'
This time Sir John had more exact answers to give. He told them Mr Willoughby had no house of his own in Devonshire, but stayed there only while visiting the old lady, Mrs Smith, at Allenham. It appeared that he was related to her, and would inherit her fortune.
Yes,' Sir John added to Elinor, 'he is well worth catching. He has a house and land in Somerset as well. And if I were you, I wouldn't allow my younger sister to have him, in spite of all this falling down hills. Miss Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself. Brandon will be jealous, if she does not take care.'
I do not believe,' said Mrs Dashwood, smiling, 'that either of my daughters will make any attempts at what you call catching him. It is not an employment to which they have been brought up. Men are very safe with us, however rich they are. I am glad to hear, however, that he is a respectable young man, whom we can meet socially.'
I remember last Christmas,' said Sir John, 'at a little dance at the Park, he danced from eight till four without once sitting down. And he was up again at eight to go shooting.'
Was he?' cried Marianne, with shining eyes. 'That is what I like, a young man who is enthusiastic and eager in all he does, who never gets tired.'
I see how it will be,' said Sir John. 'You will be interested in him now, and never think of poor Brandon.'
Marianne's rescuer, as Margaret called him, arrived at the cottage early next morning, and was received by Mrs Dashwood with more than politeness. During his visit, Willoughby rapidly became aware of the sense, elegance, affection and domestic comfort of the family to whom an accident had introduced him. Both Elinor and Marianne had pretty faces and lovely figures, but in Marianne's beautiful dark eyes burned an eager fire which drew Willoughby to her. She could not be silent when he spoke of music and dancing, and showed no shyness in their discussion. They soon discovered how many interests and opinions they shared, and long before his visit came to an end, they were talking and laughing together like old friends.
Willoughby visited Barton Cottage every day after that. At first, his intention was supposedly to enquire politely after Marianne's health, but soon he pretended no longer, and came to spend the whole day at her side, in complete enjoyment of her company. They read, they talked, they sang together, and Marianne found in Willoughby all the taste and sensibility which Edward Ferrars unfortunately lacked. Mrs Dashwood considered him as faultless as Marianne did. Even Elinor saw nothing wrong in him, except for the habit, which Marianne shared, of being too ready to express an opinion about other people, and of putting his personal pleasure above social correctness.
Marianne now began to realize she had been wrong to believe there was no such creature as the perfect man. Willoughby met her idea of perfection exactly, and his behaviour showed that he shared her wishes for their future. Her mother, too, had thoughts of their marriage, and secretly congratulated herself on having two such sons-in-law as Edward and Willoughby.
Elinor, however, was concerned to see that Mrs Jennings had been right, and Colonel Brandon appeared to be deeply in love with Marianne. What hope could there be for a silent man of thirty-five, against a sociable one of twenty-five? Perhaps she pitied him even more, because Willoughby and Marianne seemed determined to laugh at him for being old and dull.
Brandon is just the kind of man,' said Willoughby one day, 'whom everybody speaks well of, and nobody cares for.'
He is respected by all the family at the Park, however,' said Elinor sharply, 'and his conversation is always pleasant.'
But he has nothing of interest to say!' cried Marianne.
He has common sense, that is what I like about him. He is perfectly respectable, well informed, and, I believe, sincere.'
Well, Miss Dashwood,' said Willoughby, laughing, 'I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel Brandon. He told me it would rain when I wanted it to be fine, he does not approve of my new carriage, and I cannot persuade him to buy my horse. So in spite of your very sensible opinion, I shall go on disliking him for ever!'
When they moved to Barton, the Dashwoods never imagined that their days would be so completely filled with parties, visits and excursions. Sir John could not rest if there were young people to amuse, and every day there was a boat trip, or a supper party, or a drive in the countryside, or a dance at the Park. In every meeting of the kind Willoughby was included, which gave him the opportunity to develop his connection with the Dashwood family, to show his deep admiration for Marianne, and to receive, in her behaviour to himself, the clearest possible proof of her affection.
Elinor could not be surprised at their attachment. She only wished it could be less openly shown, and once or twice tried to suggest to Marianne that she should have more self-control. But Marianne, and Willoughby too, believed that real feelings should never be hidden, and that it would be false to do so. When Willoughby was present, Marianne had eyes for no one else.
Elinor's happiness was not as great as her sister's. In Devonshire she had found no companion who could make her forget the delights of her former home and Sussex friends. Only Colonel Brandon came closest to being the kind of friend she needed. He often fell into conversation with her, as he seemed to find some relief in talking to her about Marianne.
Your sister, I understand, does not approve of second attachments,' he said one evening, his eyes fixed on Marianne, who was dancing with Willoughby.
No,' replied Elinor. 'Her opinions are all romantic. She believes that we fall in love once only in our lives. But I hope that in a few years she will become more sensible.'
That may happen. But when a romantic young mind is forced to change, what serious results there can be! I speak from experience. I knew a young lady once who—'
Here he stopped suddenly and appeared to think he had said too much. Elinor felt almost sure that his was a story of disappointed love, and her pity for him grew.
The next morning, Elinor heard a piece of news that astonished her. Marianne told her with the greatest delight that Willoughby had promised to give her a horse, so that he and she could go riding together. She had not given a moment's thought to the cost of keeping the animal, or to what society might think of her receiving such an expensive present from a young man who was not a relation. It took Elinor some time to make her understand that she could not possibly accept the gift, but finally Marianne agreed, although unwillingly.
The next day Elinor gained a still clearer picture of Marianne's attachment to Willoughby. Margaret came excitedly to tell her that she was sure Marianne would marry Willoughby very soon.
Oh, Elinor!' she cried. 'I have such a secret to tell you. I saw them last night after tea. Mr Willoughby was begging Marianne for something, and then he cut off a long lock of her hair, kissed it, and put it in his pocket.'
Elinor now felt sure they were engaged, and was only surprised that they had not told their relations and friends.
Sir John's latest plan for their amusement was to visit a very fine house and garden, called Whitwell, the following day. A large group of them would go in carriages, taking food and drink with them in baskets, and a most enjoyable day was expected. As Whitwell belonged to Colonel Brandon's brother-in-law, the colonel would go with them; it appeared that he alone could arrange for them to visit the house.
Unfortunately, however, while they were at breakfast at the Park, where the whole party had gathered, a letter was delivered to the colonel. He looked quickly at it, and hurried out of the room without a word. In a few moments he returned, looking more serious than usual, and explained that urgent business called him to London, and he would not, therefore, be able to join the party visiting Whitwell. He would not explain further, in spite of Mrs Jennings' insistent questioning. Everybody except Elinor tried hard to persuade him to put off his business, so that the excursion could take place, but he could not be influenced, and left the house, after wishing them a good day.
As the excursion was no longer possible, it was decided that the party would drive around the countryside instead, and the carriages were ordered. Willoughby's was first, and Marianne never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove away very fast, and they were soon out of sight. Nothing more was seen of them until their return in the afternoon.
That evening, as they all sat down to dinner, Mrs Jennings spoke quietly to Marianne, but loud enough for Elinor to hear. 'I have found you out, Miss, in spite of your cleverness. I know where you spent the morning.'
Marianne blushed, and said quickly, 'Where?'
Mrs Jennings smiled knowingly. 'I hope you like your house, Miss Marianne. It is certainly very large, and when I come to see you in it, I hope you will have refurnished it. It badly needed new furniture when I was last there.'
Marianne turned away in confusion. Mrs Jennings laughed loudly, and explained that she had discovered from the servants that Marianne and Willoughby had gone to Allenham and spent a considerable time going all over Mrs Smith's house.
Elinor found this difficult to believe. Marianne had never been introduced to Mrs Smith, and it would have been very bad manners for her to enter the house while Mrs Smith was in it. However, when she asked her sister, she found that the story was true, and Marianne was quite angry with her for doubting it.
Why should I not visit the house?' cried Marianne. 'I never spent a pleasanter morning in my life!'
I am afraid,' replied Elinor, quietly but firmly, 'that whatever is pleasant is not always correct.'
After some minutes of serious thought, Marianne said, 'Perhaps, Elinor, you may be right. I should not have gone. But the rooms are lovely! There is a beautiful little sitting-room which would be delightful with modern furniture.' She would have described every room in the house if Elinor had let her.
Elinor had no time to wonder why Colonel Brandon had been so suddenly called away. All her thoughts now centred on Marianne and Willoughby's extraordinary silence about their engagement. There seemed no reason why they should not openly tell her mother and herself, even if they did not plan to marry very soon. Willoughby was not rich; indeed, he often complained he was poor, so he might have to wait for his inheritance before marrying. But this secrecy was so opposed to their general ideas of openness and honesty that Elinor began to doubt whether they were really engaged.
Nothing could express more affection for them all than Willoughby's behaviour. He seemed to consider the cottage his home, and when Mrs Dashwood mentioned the future building work she was planning, he appeared almost horrified, and begged her not to change even one stone.
No, Mrs Dashwood!' he cried. 'Do not spoil this house! It is perfect as it is! Remember what happiness I have known here! Promise me you will change nothing, nothing at all!'
To please him, Mrs Dashwood dutifully promised.
I am glad of your promise. Now I would ask you one more thing. Tell me that not only your home will remain the same, but that I shall always find you and your family unchanged, and that you will always consider me with the kindness which has made you all so dear to me.'
The promise was given, and Willoughby's behaviour that evening was a proof of his happiness in their society.
