Pride and Prejudice; Sense and Sensibility

Chapter 84

Eleanor was greatly disturbed to see her friend sullen.Edward's visit brought her very limited joy, and he himself did not seem very happy.It was obvious that he was not happy.She wished it was also evident that he was still as devoted to her as ever.For a moment she believed she could arouse such affection in him.But until now, it seems very elusive whether he still loves her.His eyes were still full of affection just now, but in an instant they changed to the opposite attitude, and he became reserved and indifferent to her.

He came early the next morning, before anyone else had come downstairs except for her and Marianne in the dining room.Marianne, always desiring to promote their happiness as much as possible, departed at once, leaving them both.But Marianne had not been halfway up the stairs when she heard the drawing-room door open, and looking round, she was surprised to see Edward coming out.

"Since breakfast isn't ready yet," he said, "I'll go to the village to see the horses first, and I'll be back in a while."

When Edward returned, he renewed his appreciation of the surrounding scenery.As he walked up the village, he found that many places in the valley left a good impression on him.The village itself was so much higher than the cottages that it afforded a sweeping view of the surrounding landscape which fascinated him.The subject was sure to interest Marianne, and she began to relate her own admiration for the views, asking at length which ones impressed him most.But Edward interrupted her, saying: "You better not ask, Marianne—don't forget, I don't know anything about landscapes, and if I get too specific, my ignorance and lack of taste will definitely offend you." I used to describe the precipitous mountains as steep, and the rough ground as grotesque shapes; in the soft mist, some perspectives were only vaguely clear, but I turned a blind eye to them. However, You will be satisfied with my sincere appreciation. I say the place is very beautiful--steep hills, woods plentiful in woods, deep gorges, cozy--good meadows, here and there here and there A neat farmhouse. It's just what I have in mind for a good view, for it combines beauty and utility—and it's probably picturesque, because even you can compliment it. It's not hard to believe that here There must be many rocks, strange rocks, moss carpets, and bushes, but I don't care about all this, because I don't know anything about landscapes."

"It's quite true, I'm afraid," said Marianne, "but why should you brag about it?"

"It seems to me," said Eleanor, "that Edward, avoiding one form of affectation, fell into another. Many men have a false admiration for the beauty of nature. Showing distaste, and therefore pretending to have no interest in, or appreciation for, natural beauty. He is a fussy man, and he must have his own show."

"Quite so," said Marianne, "that the admiration of beauty has become a cliché. Everyone pretends to be like the first to describe it, and to feel it and to describe it with as much interest as possible, It's very classy. I hate clichés of any kind, and sometimes I keep my feelings to myself because I can't find words to describe them other than meaningless clichés."

"You yourself think you like beautiful sights," said Edward, "and I believe you really do. But, in turn, your sister must admit, I can only feel so much as I say. I love beauty but not according to any principle of beauty. I don't like old crooked, withered trees. I appreciate them more if they are tall and straight, with luxuriant branches. I don't like crumbling and dilapidated trees either. Cottages, not nettles, thistles, heather. I'd rather live in a cozy farmhouse than in a watchtower--not even the smartest green men in the world are as neat as a gang in my eyes , happy villagers make me like it even more."

Marianne looked at Edward in wonder, and at her sister sympathetically.Eleanor just laughed.

This topic was not pursued further.Marianne meditated silently, until a novelty suddenly caught her attention.She sat next to Edward, and when Edward reached out to take the tea offered by Mrs Dashwood, his hand passed her eyes, and on one finger he wore a conspicuous ring with a With a lock of hair.

"Edward, I never saw you wear a ring," she exclaimed. "Is that Fanny's hair? I remember she promised you a lock of it. But I think hers is darker."

Marianne had no scruples in speaking what was in her heart--but, when she saw how much she had embarrassed Edward by her own words, she was more annoyed than Edward at her own indiscretion.Edward, flushed all over his face, could not help but glance at Eleanor, and then replied, "Yes, it's my sister's hair. You know, because of the reflection of the hair clipped in the socket, the shade of the hair color looks like There will always be changes."

Eleanor also looked embarrassed when she saw his wink just now.For a moment, both she and Marianne felt very proud that the hair belonged to her, Eleanor—the only difference being the reasons for arriving at this conclusion: Marianne thought it was a generous gift from her sister, while Eleanor thought it was hers. Realizing that this must have been obtained secretly by Edward using some method secretly.However, she didn't intend to take this as an offense, so she pretended not to mind, and immediately changed the subject.But she made up her mind secretly that she would take every opportunity to look carefully, to be sure that the lock of hair was exactly the same color as her own.

Edward was embarrassed for a while, and finally became more and more absent-minded.All morning, his mood was prim.Marianne blamed herself deeply for what she had said, but would have forgiven herself at once if she had known her sister was not at all offended.

Before noon Sir John and Mrs. Jennings came to see them, for they had heard that a gentleman was at the cottage.Sir John, with the help of his mother-in-law, soon discovered that the first letter of the Ferrars' surname was "Fee," and this provided them with plenty of future jokes about the infatuated Eleanor.It was only because I had just met Edward that I didn't dare to make a mistake right away.However, in fact, Eleanor had already seen from their meaningful expressions that they had gained insight into the inside story based on the clues provided by Margaret.

Whenever Sir John visited, he either invited the Dashwood mother and daughter to dine at the mansion the next day, or invited them to tea that evening.This time, in order to treat their guests graciously, he felt that he should contribute to the entertainment of the guests, so he wanted to make two invitations together.

"You must come to tea with us to-night," said he, "or we will be very lonely--you must supper with us to-morrow, for we shall have a great company."

Mrs. Jennings further emphasized this necessity. "Perhaps you'll have a ball!" she said. "And who can have a ball without you? That will be very tempting to you, Miss Marianne."

"The ball!" cried Marianne. "Impossible! Who's going to dance?"

"Who? Oh, you, of course, and the ladies of the Careys, and the ladies of the Whittakers. What! You think someone whose name I can't say now is gone, No one can dance anymore!"

"I do hope," cried Sir John, "that Willoughby will be among us again."

Upon hearing this, and seeing Marianne blushing again, Edward had new suspicions. "Who is Willoughby?" he asked in a low voice to Eleanor, who was sitting beside her.

Eleanor answered briefly.Marianne's expression was more telling.Edward saw clearly, and not only took in the meaning of the others, but also in the look of Marianne, who had previously puzzled him.After the guests dispersed, he immediately walked up to her and whispered, "I've been guessing, should I tell you what I'm guessing?"

"what do you mean?"

"Shall I tell you?"

"of course."

"Well, I guess Mr. Willoughby is fond of hunting."

Marianne was taken aback and looked very embarrassed, but she couldn't help laughing at his quiet mischief.After a short silence, she said:
"Oh! Edward! How can you say that? Still, I wish there was a moment . . . I think you'll like him."

"I don't doubt it," replied Edward, though he was greatly surprised at Marianne's earnest enthusiasm.He had thought it was nothing more than her friend making fun of her, and therefore making a joke of a relationship which may or may not have existed between Mr. Willoughby and Marianne, or he would have Wouldn't bring it up so rashly.

(End of this chapter)