Sense and Sensibility

September 22

40 min read

Promises and Precarity

Read the opening of Sense and Sensibility with context for inheritance and the Dashwood family’s changing circumstances. A free guide to the available opening material.

Settled in Sussex

The Dashwood women are now dependent on John. Will he keep his promise?

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These are the opening lines to Jane Austen's debut novel, Sense and Sensibility. As you read them, ask yourself: what is Austen trying to do here?

Jane Austen

The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner as to the general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance.

Many stories begin by announcing that something has changed: "Marley was dead: to begin with," "Mother died today," "Where's Papa going with that ax?"Stories can also start by anticipating a change. Harry Potter famously begins, "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much." We now expect something abnormal to happen to the "perfectly normal" Dursleys.Austen loves this style of opening. Look again at "the family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex." The very word "settled" warns us that the Dashwoods will soon be unsettled.Here's the situation. For years, Mr. Henry Dashwood, his wife, and their three daughters (Elinor, Marianne, and young Margaret) have lived at Norland, keeping Henry's rich, elderly uncle company. The uncle, whom Austen calls the "old Gentleman," has no children of his own, so he plans to bequeath the estate to Henry.In the following passage, the 'nephew and niece' refers to Henry and his wife, Mrs. Dashwood.

Jane Austen

In the society of his nephew and niece, and their children, the old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent. His attachment to them all increased. The constant attention of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from interest, but from goodness of heart, gave him every degree of solid comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the children added a to his existence.

More than any of Austen's other novels, Sense and Sensibility dwells on the legal and financial details that made a woman's life precarious. One of these is primogeniture: the tradition of passing an entire estate to the eldest son. The point of primogeniture was to keep estates whole, instead of splitting them among younger sons and future husbands of daughters.From his first marriage, Henry has a grown son, Mr. John Dashwood, who is half-brother to the three girls. John, his wife Fanny, and their little boy Harry occasionally visit Norland, and on those visits the old uncle is charmed by little Harry. Here's Austen:

Jane Austen

The old Gentleman died: his will was read, and like almost every other will, gave as much disappointment as pleasure... The whole was tied up for the benefit of this child, who, in occasional visits with his father and mother at Norland, had so far gained on the affections of his uncle, by such attractions as are by no means unusual in children of two or three years old; an imperfect articulation, an earnest desire of having his own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of noise, as to outweigh all the value of all the attention which, for years, he had received from his niece and her daughters.

In other words, the rich uncle secured Norland for his great-grandnephew. Notice the theme of precarity once again: a charming toddler has unsettled the future of Henry's wife and daughters.Henry isn't entirely cut out. He gets a "life interest" in Norland, which means he controls the estate and its income for as long as he lives. But he can't sell it or leave it to anyone. When Henry dies, the estate passes to John, and eventually to little Harry.So Henry's only way to provide for his wife and daughters is to save money from the estate's income while he's alive. But he dies within a year of the uncle. On his deathbed, Henry asks John to look after Mrs. Dashwood and the girls. John promises to do everything in his power to make them comfortable, but exactly what that means, he leaves unsaid. Back to Austen.

Jane Austen

Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the rest of the family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make them comfortable. His father was easy by such an assurance, and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how much there might prudently be in his power to do for them.

He was not an young man, unless to be rather cold hearted and rather selfish is to be : but he was, in general, well respected; for he conducted himself with in the discharge of his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, he might have been made still more respectable than he was:—he might even have been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature of himself;—more narrow-minded and selfish.

When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to increase the fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand pounds a-piece. He then really thought himself equal to it. The prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, besides the remaining half of his own mother’s fortune, warmed his heart, and made him feel capable of generosity.

“Yes, he would give them three thousand pounds: it would be and ! It would be enough to make them completely . Three thousand pounds! he could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience.” He thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did not repent.

Fish and Game

The Dashwood women are now dependent on John. Will he keep his promise?

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Elinor, Marianne, and Margaret Dashwood have lost their father. Their older half-brother, John, has inherited Norland, where they still live with their mother. Before dying, their father asked John to look after all four of them. John intends to give each sister a thousand pounds. His wife, Fanny, thinks this is far too much.

John Dashwood

It was my father's last request to me, that I should assist his widow and daughters... Something must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and settle in a new home.

Fanny Dashwood

Well, then, let something be done for them; but that something need not be three thousand pounds. Consider that when the money is once parted with, it never can return. Your sisters will marry, and it will be gone for ever. If, indeed, it could be restored to our poor little boy—

John Dashwood

Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, if the sum were diminished one half.—Five hundred pounds would be a increase to their fortunes!

Fanny Dashwood

Oh! beyond anything great! What brother on earth would do half so much for his sisters, even if really his sisters! And as it is—only half blood!—But you have such a generous spirit!

John Dashwood

I would not wish to do any thing . One had rather, on such occasions, do too much than too little. No one, at least, can think I have not done enough for them: even themselves, they can hardly expect more.

Fanny Dashwood

There is no knowing what they may expect, but we are not to think of their expectations: the question is, what you can afford to do.

Fanny's question is absurd. £3,000 represents 2-3% of their fortune. Norland alone will bring them an extra £4,000 a year, which means that the £3,000 John originally intended to give his sisters amounts to nine months of the estate's income. John's been negotiated down to £500 each. Let's now return to John as he considers an annual payment instead: £100 a year to his stepmother for life.

John Dashwood

I do not know whether, upon the whole, it would not be more advisable to do something for their mother while she lives, rather than for them—something of the kind I mean.—My sisters would feel the good effects of it as well as herself. A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable.

Fanny Dashwood

To be sure, it is better than parting with fifteen hundred pounds at once. But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood should live fifteen years we shall be completely taken in.

John Dashwood

Fifteen years! my dear Fanny; her life cannot be worth half that purchase.

Fanny Dashwood

Certainly not; but if you observe, people always live for ever when there is an annuity to be paid them; and she is very and healthy, and hardly forty. An annuity is a very serious business; it comes over and over every year, and there is no getting rid of it. You are not aware of what you are doing.

John Dashwood

It is certainly an unpleasant thing to have those kind of yearly drains on one’s income. One’s fortune … is not one’s own. To be tied down to the regular payment of such a sum, on every rent day, is by no means desirable: it takes away one’s independence.

Fanny Dashwood

Undoubtedly; and after all you have no thanks for it. They think themselves secure, you do no more than what is expected, and it raises no gratitude at all. If I were you, whatever I did should be done at my own entirely. I would not bind myself to allow them any thing yearly.

Fanny now argues that John has misunderstood his father's request. Perhaps helping the family never meant giving them money. Here Fanny continues her argument.

Fanny Dashwood

The assistance he thought of, I dare say, was only such as might be reasonably expected of you; for instance, such as looking out for a comfortable small house for them, helping them to move their things, and sending them presents of fish and game, and so forth, whenever they are in season. I’ll lay my life that he meant nothing farther; indeed, it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did.

Altogether, they will have five hundred a-year amongst them, and what on earth can four women want for more than that?—They will live so cheap! Their housekeeping will be nothing at all. They will have no carriage, no horses, and hardly any servants; they will , and can have no expenses of any kind! Only conceive how comfortable they will be! Five hundred a year!

I am sure I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it; and as to your giving them more, it is quite absurd to think of it. They will be much more able to give you something.

John Dashwood

Upon my word, I believe you are perfectly right. My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than what you say. I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness to them as you have described. When my mother removes into another house my services shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can. Some little present of furniture too may be acceptable then.

Mr. John Dashwood began the conversation intending to give his sisters £3,000. He ends it satisfied that occasional gifts of fish and game will fulfill his promise. Fanny allows her husband to feel generous without having to be generous. Here is Austen's biographer, Claire Tomalin, describing what just happened:

Claire Tomalin

Austen makes Fanny Dashwood, in thirteen speeches, turn her husband through 180 degrees without his once being aware of what is happening; a perfectly engineered piece of manipulation, and a of dialogue.

The sisters and their mother are not penniless. Together, they have £10,000 of wealth, yielding £500 a year in interest. They are still considered gentlewomen, but they have fallen into genteel poverty. They will have enough to keep two maids and a serving man, but no carriage or horses. What's more they will soon have to leave the Norland estate, where they have become guests in their own home. Fanny has taken over as mistress of the house, and has invited her brother, Mr. Edward Ferrars, to visit. We will meet him next.

Driving a Barouche

Elinor and Edward develop affection amid family expectations.

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Fanny is now in charge of Norland as mistress of the estate. Mrs. Dashwood is anxious to find a nearby home, but her reasonable daughter Elinor keeps reminding her of what she can and can't afford. Meanwhile, a young man by the name of Edward Ferrars, Fanny's own brother, has begun spending a lot of time at Norland, and he seems to be quite fond of Elinor.

Jane Austen

Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of , for, except a trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother.

But Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either consideration. It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable, that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor returned the .

Yes, Edward is the eldest son of a rich family, but his mother controls the purse strings. If he were to marry someone against her wishes, he would risk his entire inheritance. But these financial concerns don't faze Mrs. Dashwood, who, like her daughter Marianne, is a bit of a romantic. She likes Edward. His "address" and charisma are a bit underwhelming, but he appears kind and earnest in his affection.

Jane Austen

Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good opinion by any peculiar graces of person or . He was not handsome, and his manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. He was too to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome, his behaviour gave every indication of an open, affectionate heart.

His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid improvement. But he was neither fitted by abilities nor to answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who longed to see him distinguished—as—they hardly knew what.

They wanted him to make a fine figure in the world in some manner or other. His mother wished to interest him in political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to see him connected with some of the great men of the day.

Mrs. John Dashwood wished it likewise; but in the mean while, till one of these superior blessings could be attained, it would have quieted her ambition to see him driving a . But Edward had no turn for great men or barouches. All his wishes centered in domestic comfort and the quiet of private life. Fortunately he had a younger brother who was more promising.

Edward's mother and his sister Fanny have high expectations for him, although they're not entirely sure what that means. His mother imagines that he might even become a parliamentarian or, at a minimum, be connected to powerful men. Fanny would settle for seeing him drive a barouche, which was a fashionable urban carriage. This might say something about her obsession with displays of wealth. Even if Edward never became important, Fanny would at least like him to look important. Meanwhile, Edward doesn't seem to have any ambitions of his own. He's attracted to a quiet, private life.

David Shapard

The two paragraphs describing Edward represent a longer introduction than for any other character in the novel, one that exceeds the introduction for most romantic heroes in Jane Austen. It will soon be supplemented by lengthy speeches or reflections on Edward from Marianne and Elinor. A crucial reason for this is that the plot will Edward to a mostly offstage role, preventing the author from presenting his character very fully through his own speech or actions.

Jane Austen

Edward had been staying several weeks in the house before he engaged much of Mrs. Dashwood’s attention; for she was, at that time, in such affliction as rendered her careless of surrounding objects.

She saw only that he was quiet and unobtrusive, and she liked him for it. He did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed conversation. She was first called to observe and approve him farther, by a reflection which Elinor chanced one day to make on the difference between him and his sister. It was a contrast which recommended him most forcibly to her mother.

Notice how the same reserve that made Edward seem unimpressive now begins to look like tact. Remember that the Dashwood women are still in mourning. They've lost their father and their home. Edward's delicate interest is therefore quite considerate. His character becomes visible through what he refrains from doing or saying. Mrs. Dashwood even remarks that the reason she likes him so much is that he's the complete opposite of his sister Fanny.

Mrs. Dashwood

It is enough—to say that he is unlike Fanny is enough. It implies everything amiable. I love him already.

Elinor Dashwood

I think you will like him—when you know more of him.

Mrs. Dashwood

Like him! I feel no sentiment of inferior to love.

Elinor Dashwood

You may esteem him.

Mrs. Dashwood

I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love.

Notice already how Austen portrays sense versus sensibility. In future chapters, this distinction is made between Elinor and her sister Marianne, but Mrs. Dashwood is very much like Marianne. Elinor is associated with sense, and yet her sensibility is more refined. She can distinguish between feelings of liking, esteem, and love, whereas the feeling-forward Mrs. Dashwood admits to feeling "no sentiment of approbation inferior to love."

To Wish Was to Hope

Edward has grown close to Elinor. Will affection survive Fanny's warning?

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We meet most of Jane Austen's characters firsthand through their own words and actions. This is not the case for Edward Ferrars, who is introduced primarily through the impressions he makes on other characters. In the next passage, Elinor and Marianne debate whether Edward has "taste."The virtue of taste was widely discussed in the Regency era. Marianne claims that Edward has no taste for drawing, while Elinor insists that he does. It may not be the "rapturous delight" that Marianne associates with taste; instead, "he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste, which in general direct him perfectly right." We're told that Marianne "smiles within herself" at Elinor's "blind partiality to Edward."Note that here again we get commentary on sense versus sensibility. First, Elinor would never consider blind partiality a virtue, but Marianne does. Further, Elinor criticizes the sentimentalist notion that intense emotions are indicative of taste.

Marianne Dashwood

Do not be offended, Elinor, if my praise of him is not in every thing equal to your sense of his merits. I have not had so many opportunities of estimating the of his mind, his and tastes, as you have; but I have the highest opinion in the world of his goodness and sense. I think him every thing that is worthy and .

Elinor Dashwood

Of his sense and his goodness, no one can, I think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in conversation. The excellence of his understanding and his principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps him silent. You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth.

I have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard his opinion on subjects of literature and taste; and, upon the whole, I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation just and correct, and his taste delicate and pure. His abilities in every respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person.

At first sight, his is certainly not striking; and his can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which are uncommonly good, and the general sweetness of his countenance, is perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really handsome; or at least, almost so. What say you, Marianne?

Marianne Dashwood

I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor, if I do not now. When you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection in his face, than I now do in his heart.

Jane Austen

Elinor started at this declaration, and was sorry for the warmth she had been betrayed into, in speaking of him. She felt that Edward stood very high in her opinion.

She knew that what Marianne and her mother one moment, they believed the next—that with them, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.

Elinor Dashwood

I do not attempt to deny that I think very highly of him—that I greatly esteem, that I like him.

Marianne Dashwood

Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment.

Elinor Dashwood

Excuse me, and be assured that I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my own feelings. Believe them to be stronger than I have declared; believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the suspicion—the hope of his affection for me may , without or folly. But farther than this you must not believe.

Jane Austen

Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother and herself had outstripped the truth.

Marianne Dashwood

And you really are not engaged to him! Yet it certainly soon will happen. But two advantages will proceed from this delay. I shall not lose you so soon, and Edward will have greater opportunity of improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. Oh! if he should be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to draw himself, how delightful it would be!

Elinor believes that Edward prefers her, but she knows that other realities are at play. As we said earlier, Edward is not an ambitious man. He has no career or independent income. His mother, Mrs. Ferrars, wants him to marry for fortune or rank, and Edward doesn't have the financial freedom to defy her.Elinor doesn't know all the details of Edward's situation, but she knows that marriage decisions are complex. She speaks to Marianne like a philosopher, committed to the truth. Meanwhile, Marianne is astonished to find “how much the imagination of her mother and herself had outstripped the truth,” but then quickly decides an engagement “certainly soon will happen.” Marianne's speech stands in sharp contrast to Elinor's. It's riddled with exclamation points: “Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than cold-hearted!”Elinor turns out to be right on both counts: Edward does prefer her, but he is constrained by family and money. We get this confirmation when Jane Austen shows us how Fanny reacts by insulting her mother-in-law, Mrs. Dashwood.

Jane Austen

[Elinor] was far from depending on that result of his preference of her, which her mother and sister still considered as certain. Nay, the longer they were together the more doubtful seemed the nature of his regard; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, she believed it to be no more than friendship.

But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, when perceived by his sister, to make her uneasy, and at the same time, (which was still more common,) to make her uncivil. She took the first opportunity of her mother-in-law on the occasion, talking to her so expressively of her brother’s great expectations, of Mrs. Ferrars’s resolution that both her sons should marry well, and of the danger attending any young woman who attempted to draw him in; that Mrs. Dashwood could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to be calm.

By warning Mrs. Dashwood against any young woman who might try to "draw him in," Fanny accuses Elinor of a calculated attempt to secure Edward's fortune. She's reminding Mrs. Dashwood that their mother expects Edward to marry for advantage. As readers, we know Elinor likes Edward in earnest, but Fanny isn't entirely wrong to be suspicious. Women could neither pursue careers of their own nor propose marriage. It was common in this era for women to "draw in" affluent men as their only means to financial security. As John Mullan explains, a Regency woman's entire future revolved around a proposal.

John Mullan

You might say that the narrative interest of Austen’s novels stems entirely from a convention of marriage proposals: that a man must propose; a woman must wait to be proposed to. Comparing marriage to dancing in Northanger Abbey, Henry Tilney condenses the essential truth: ‘man had the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal.'Elinor wonders whether or not Edward Ferrars is courting her, but can only wait for him to say something.

Offended by Fanny's insult, Mrs. Dashwood is now desperate to leave Norland. She receives a timely letter from one of her relatives, Sir John Middleton, about Barton Cottage, available on "easy terms" (low rent) next to his own residence, Barton Park. Barton is in Devonshire, in the southwest corner of England, and very far from Norland in Sussex. Previously, Mrs. Dashwood wanted to find a home nearby, but now the long distance between Norland and Devonshire is appealing. For Elinor and her growing attachment to Edward, the move is disastrous. But Elinor is a character of sense, and this is a sensible decision. She therefore accepts the self-sacrifice and makes "no attempt to dissuade her mother" from accepting Sir John's offer.

Poor and Small

Fanny has driven the Dashwoods from Norland. Can Barton become home?

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Mrs. Dashwood announced that she and her daughters were leaving Norland for a cottage four miles north of Exeter in Devonshire. Edward was startled by the news, especially because Devonshire was so far from Sussex. Mrs. Dashwood invited him to visit and made her invitation especially warm in front of his disapproving sister Fanny.Meanwhile, her stepson, John Dashwood, claimed to be exceedingly sorry that the distance would prevent him from helping them move. Conveniently, this allowed him to consider himself completely discharged of his dying promise to his father. The furniture had to be shipped by sea along the southern coast at the Dashwoods' own expense.This sudden fall into genteel poverty continues to take Mrs. Dashwood by surprise. Elinor has to convince her mother to sell their carriage. Owning a carriage was a major mark of wealth, but the cost of keeping one in the 1810s was around £1,000 per year—twice as much as their entire new annual income.

Jane Austen faced a similar household reduction in 1801 when her father retired and the family moved from Hampshire to Bath. Here, Austen's biographer, Lucy Worsley, describes the possessions that had to be auctioned off.

Lucy Worsley

[Everything] was now sold, including all that new furniture, the sisters’ beds, and even Jane’s old friends, the family’s books. An advert for the auction placed in the 'Reading Mercury' reveals that Jane had to leave behind not only her piano but also an extensive collection of music ‘by the most celebrated composers’.

The Dashwoods entered Barton Valley by a winding road through woods and pasture, and their spirits immediately lifted.

Jane Austen

It was a pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich in pasture. After winding along it for more than a mile, they reached their own house. A small green court was the whole of its in front; and a neat wicket gate admitted them into it.

As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact; but as a cottage it was defective, for the building was regular, the roof was tiled, the window shutters were not painted green, nor were the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly through the house into the garden behind.

In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeed!—but the tears which recollection called forth as they entered the house were soon dried away. They were cheered by the joy of the servants on their arrival, and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear happy.

Mrs. Dashwood

As for the house itself, to be sure, it is too small for our family, but we will make ourselves comfortable for the present, as it is too late in the year for improvements. Perhaps in the spring, if I have plenty of money, as I dare say I shall, we may think about building.

These parlors are both too small for such parties of our friends as I hope to see often collected here; and I have some thoughts of throwing the passage into one of them with perhaps a part of the other, and so leave the remainder of that other for an entrance; this, with a new drawing room which may be easily added, and a bed-chamber and above, will make it a very snug little cottage.

I could wish the stairs were handsome. But one must not expect every thing; though I suppose it would be no difficult matter to widen them. I shall see how much I am with the world in the spring, and we will plan our improvements accordingly.

Jane Austen

In the mean time, till all these alterations could be made from the savings of an income of five hundred a-year by a woman who never saved in her life, they were wise enough to be contented with the house as it was; and each of them was busy in arranging their particular concerns, and endeavoring, by placing around them books and other possessions, to form themselves a home.

One reason Mrs. Dashwood immediately begins brainstorming home improvements is that a home's layout dictated the society you could keep. Two sitting rooms were considered the minimum for a decent social life: one to receive formal company, and the other for day-to-day family life. Historian Ian Mortimer describes how this division worked in this era, where a front parlour was kept as a showpiece while household activity continued elsewhere.

Ian Mortimer

It all looks satisfyingly solid and reassuring. But notice that there are no paintings or prints on the walls. There are no musical instruments. If it strikes you as a serious space, well, it is. In a house like this, the front is often a showpiece: unused except for when visitors come to dinner, and by the family on Sundays. The real buzz of life goes on elsewhere.

Austen makes sure we see how impractical Mrs. Dashwood’s plans really are. She's treating their £500 annual income like a construction fund, when almost all of it will be needed for basic living expenses. Here, David Shapard compares Mrs. Dashwood's budget to Jane Austen’s own experience living in a cottage at Chawton.

David Shapard

Five hundred a year would be a pitiful amount for making such extensive alterations, especially since much of it would have to go toward daily living expenses. Even very wealthy landowners could run into serious debt from the cost of improvements to their houses, though their construction would be on a much grander scale.

Jane Austen would have an excellent sense of how much Mrs. Dashwood could afford, for in the last part of her life, the time when this and other novels were published, she was in a very similar situation.

She and her mother and sister inhabited a house of comparable size, also called a cottage, and enjoyed around the same level of wealth, having a little less than five hundred a year in income but also not having to pay rent on the house (since it was owned by Jane Austen’s brother).

The next morning, after the Dashwood women settled in, their cousin and landlord, Sir John Middleton, came to welcome them to their new home. His wife, Lady Middleton, visited the following day.Whereas Elinor and Marianne embody sense and sensibility, Sir John and Lady Middleton introduce another dynamic entirely: good nature versus good breeding. Sir John is full of warmth, generosity, and unpretentious good nature, but lacks civility. Lady Middleton has all the civility of good breeding, but none of the warmth. Austen continues to challenge the idea that breeding alone makes someone truly genteel.

Jane Austen

Sir John’s was thoroughly good-humoured; and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter. He pressed them so to dine at Barton Park every day, that, though his were carried to a point of perseverance beyond civility, they could not give offence.

His kindness was not confined to words; for within an hour after he left them, a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit arrived from the , which was followed before the end of the day by a present of game.

Lady Middleton was not more than six or seven and twenty; her face was handsome, her figure tall and striking, and her address graceful. Her manners had all the elegance which her husband’s .

But they would have been improved by some share of his frankness and warmth; and her visit was long enough to detract something from their first admiration, by showing that, though perfectly well-bred, she was reserved, cold, and had nothing to say for herself beyond the most inquiry or remark.

A Miracle at Forty

The Dashwoods just agreed to dine at Barton Park. Is thirty-five too old for love?

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The next day, the Dashwoods dined at Barton Park. Sir John Middleton apologized to the company that he couldn't find any smart young gentlemen to join them, except for his unmarried 35-year-old friend, Colonel Brandon. We're told that the colonel was silent and grave, and though his appearance was "not unpleasing," in the eyes of Marianne and Margaret he was "an absolute old bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty."Also in attendance was Lady Middleton's mother, Mrs. Jennings, who was much more like her boisterous son-in-law Sir John, than she was like her pretentious daughter. She teased Elinor and Marianne all evening about the broken hearts they may have left behind in Sussex.After dinner, Marianne played the pianoforte and sang. She was able to play all the music Lady Middleton had on hand without even practicing in advance. Lady Middleton, on the other hand, had locked up her instruments and given up playing upon marriage—a common habit in an era when music was practiced primarily to attract a husband. While Sir John talked loudly over the music and Lady Middleton offered polite platitudes, only one guest truly listened.

Jane Austen

Colonel Brandon alone, of all the party, heard her without being in . He paid her only the compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him on the occasion, which the others had reasonably forfeited by their shameless want of taste.

His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, was when contrasted against the horrible of the others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of might well have outlived all of feeling and every exquisite power of enjoyment.

Seeing how attentively he listened, Mrs. Jennings immediately declared Colonel Brandon in love. She teased Brandon at the park and then teased Marianne at the cottage. Marianne complained to her mother that Mrs. Jennings was cruel to mock Brandon. It seemed inconceivable to Marianne that Mrs. Jennings might be serious about the prospect of Marianne and Colonel Brandon together, due to his advanced age, but Mrs. Jennings was likely earnest in her matchmaking. She's a wealthy widow who has already married off her own daughters, and now she's made a full-time hobby out of matchmaking for every single person she meets.

Jane Austen

Mrs. Dashwood, who could not think a man five years younger than herself, so exceedingly ancient as he appeared to the youthful fancy of her daughter, ventured to clear Mrs. Jennings from the probability of wishing to throw ridicule on his age.

Marianne Dashwood

But at least, Mama, you cannot deny the absurdity of the accusation, though you may not think it intentionally ill-natured. Colonel Brandon is certainly younger than Mrs. Jennings, but he is old enough to be my father; and if he were ever animated enough to be in love, must have long outlived every sensation of the kind. It is too ridiculous! When is a man to be safe from such wit, if age and infirmity will not protect him?

Elinor Dashwood

Infirmity! Do you call Colonel Brandon infirm? I can easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my mother; but you can hardly deceive yourself as to his having the use of his limbs!

Marianne Dashwood

Did not you hear him complain of the ? and is not that the commonest infirmity of declining life?

Mrs. Dashwood

My dearest child, at this rate you must be in continual terror of my decay; and it must seem to you a miracle that my life has been extended to the advanced age of forty.

Marianne Dashwood

Mama, you are not doing me justice. I know very well that Colonel Brandon is not old enough to make his friends yet apprehensive of losing him in the course of nature. He may live twenty years longer. But thirty-five has nothing to do with matrimony.

Elinor Dashwood

Perhaps thirty-five and seventeen had better not have any thing to do with matrimony together. But if there should by any chance happen to be a woman who is single at , I should not think Colonel Brandon’s being thirty-five any objection to his marrying her.

Marianne Dashwood

A woman of seven and twenty can never hope to feel or inspire affection again, and if her home be uncomfortable, or her fortune small, I can suppose that she might bring herself to submit to the of a nurse, for the sake of the and security of a wife.

Elinor Dashwood

I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and his wife to the constant confinement of a sick chamber, merely because he chanced to complain yesterday (a very cold damp day) of a slight rheumatic feel in one of his shoulders.

Marianne Dashwood

But he talked of flannel waistcoats, and with me a flannel waistcoat is invariably connected with aches, cramps, rheumatisms, and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and the feeble.

In Marianne's view, a 27-year-old woman and a 35-year-old man are far too old for romantic love. In reality, a healthy Regency gentleman or lady could expect to live into their early 60s. Still, a woman of 27 was widely considered past her prime for receiving marriage proposals. Jane Austen is having some fun with this dialogue: around the age of 27, Austen herself received a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, heir to substantial estates. She accepted that evening, but withdrew her acceptance the next morning, well aware that this proposal could be her last chance at financial independence. Here is how Jane's niece, Caroline Austen, later recounted the event.

Caroline Austen

I that the advantages he could offer, and her gratitude for his love, and her long friendship with his family, induced my aunt to decide that she would marry him when he should ask her, but that having accepted him she found she was miserable.

To be sure, she should not have said 'Yes' overnight; but I have always respected her for her courage in cancelling that 'Yes' the next morning; all worldly advantages would have been to her, and she was of an age to know this quite well (she was nearly twenty-seven).

My aunts had very small fortunes; and on their father's death, they and their mother would be, they were aware, but poorly off. I believe most young women so would have gone on trusting to love after marriage.

Back at the cottage, after Elinor left the room, Marianne told her mother that she suspected Edward Ferrars might be ill. After all, it has been almost a fortnight (14 days) since they arrived in Devonshire, and he still has not visited.She found their romance completely bewildering, calling their Norland farewell cold and languid. Unlike Marianne, Elinor had never wept when leaving Norland, nor did she seem dejected at Barton. Through the lens of sensibility, Elinor's quiet restraint was impossible to understand. But in the next chapter, we get to see a romantic encounter as Marianne thinks it ought to look.

Walked Out of a Book

Edward is still absent. Will Marianne's storybook rescuer prove real?

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One of the delights of Barton Cottage is that it's surrounded by all these beautiful walks, which is a great boon since they don't have a carriage. Sir John has generously offered his, but Mrs. Dashwood is too proud to borrow it. After about two days of being locked inside by the rain, Marianne and Margaret, the youngest sister, decide to go out and explore on foot. Clouds loom overhead, but the sisters are confident in their judgment (or "penetration") of the weather.

Jane Austen

They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own at every glimpse of blue sky; and when they caught in their faces the animating gales of a high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such delightful sensations.

Marianne Dashwood

Is there a in the world, superior to this?—Margaret, we will walk here at least two hours.

Jane Austen

Margaret agreed, and they pursued their way against the wind, resisting it with laughing delight for about twenty minutes longer, when suddenly the clouds united over their heads, and a driving rain set full in their face. and surprised, they were obliged, though unwillingly, to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their own house.

One consolation however remained for them, to which the of the moment gave more than usual ,—it was that of running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which led immediately to their garden gate.They set off. Marianne had at first the advantage, but a false step brought her suddenly to the ground; and Margaret, unable to stop herself to assist her, was involuntarily hurried along, and reached the bottom in safety.

A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne, when her accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. She had raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been twisted in her fall, and she was scarcely able to stand.

The gentleman offered his services; and perceiving that her modesty declined what her situation rendered necessary, took her up in his arms without farther delay, and carried her down the hill. Then passing through the garden, the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he bore her directly into the house, Margaret was just arrived, and not his hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour.

Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at their entrance, and while the eyes of both were fixed on him with an evident wonder and a secret admiration which equally sprung from his appearance, he apologized for his intrusion by relating its cause, in a manner so frank and so graceful that his person, which was uncommonly handsome, received additional charms from his voice and expression.

His name was Willoughby, and his present home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would allow him the honour of calling tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood. The honour was readily granted, and he then departed, to make himself still more interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain.

His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness were instantly the theme of general admiration, and the laugh which his raised against Marianne received particular spirit from his exterior attractions. Marianne herself had seen less of his person than the rest, for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his lifting her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their entering the house.

But she had seen enough of him to join in all the admiration of the others, and with an energy which always adorned her praise. His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn for the hero of a favourite story; and in his carrying her into the house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of thought which particularly recommended the action to her. Every circumstance belonging to him was interesting.

His name was good, his residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming. Her imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, and the pain of a sprained ankle was disregarded.

Willoughby's rescue certainly crosses a social boundary—it would not have been considered appropriate for a man to carry a young woman—but Marianne's twisted ankle is just the justification they need.Here is an excerpt from an anonymous conduct book first published in 1811 called "The Mirror of the Graces." It advised women on how to dress, cultivate accomplishments, behave, and preserve health and beauty—along with strict rules about touching the opposite sex. It warns of the "coxcomb," a vain, conceited man who assumes an intimacy he has not earned.

Mirror Of Graces

The present familiarity between the sexes is both shocking to delicacy, and to the interests of women. Woman is now treated by the generality of men with a freedom that levels her with the commonest and most vulgar objects of their amusements. She is addressed as unceremoniously, treated as , and left as abruptly, as the puppet they could pick up at a .

We no longer see the respectful bow, the look of polite attention, when a gentleman approaches a lady. He runs up to her; he seizes her by the hand, shakes it roughly, asks a few questions, and, to show that he has no interest in her answers, flies off again before she can make a reply.

To cure our of this conceited impertinence, I would strongly exhort my young and lovely readers. When any man, who is not privileged by the right of friendship or of kindred, to address her with an air of affection, attempts to take her hand, let her withdraw it immediately, with an air so declarative of displeasure, that he shall not presume to repeat the offence.

This meet-cute is plausible. Marianne walks, and Willoughby hunts. It's also idealistic. This is exactly the type of encounter that Marianne has read about in her books. Emma Thompson adapted this rescue scene for the 1995 film, with Kate Winslet playing Marianne and Greg Wise playing Willoughby. Here is Thompson writing in her journal about that specific scene. She borrows a phrase from horsemanship: allowing desire “its head” means giving the impulse freedom instead of reining it in.

Emma Thompson

The image of the man carrying the woman is horribly effective. Male strength - the desire to be cradled again? Had sage discussion with John Jordan (focus puller, very gentle) over the barrel of the lens about allowing all those politically incorrect desires their head. I'd love someone to pick me up and carry me off. Frightening.

Threatened Me with Rain

Edward is still absent. Will Marianne's storybook rescuer prove real?

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Sir John Middleton has just learned about the Dashwoods' new visitor. He recommends Willoughby as a skilled huntsman who can dance all night. He owns an estate in Somerset and is visiting an elderly relation at nearby Allenham, from whom he expect to inherit property.Willoughby calls the next morning. Marianne's initial embarrassment disappears once the two of them begin talking about music, dancing, and books. They seem to have the exact same tastes and agree on every subject, insofar as Willoughby agrees with Marianne.

Jane Austen

Their taste was strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by each or if any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no longer than till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her eyes could be displayed. He in all her decisions, caught all her enthusiasm; and long before his visit concluded, they conversed with the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance.

You'll remember in a prior lesson, Marianne had claimed that Edward Ferrars had no taste. In this scene, Willoughby enthusiastically nods along with all of Marianne's literary and musical judgments. He passes her taste test with remarkable ease.The next day he comes back, and then again the day after that. His calls become so often that Mrs. Dashwood begins to "secretly congratulate herself on having gained two such sons-in-law as Edward and Willoughby."Meanwhile, Elinor now feels sorry for Colonel Brandon, who still seems attached to Marianne. Willoughby and Marianne ridicule him behind his back for being dull, as the attacks pile on, Elinor defends Brandon, asking Willoughby why he dislikes him so much.

John Willoughby

I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very respectable man, who has every body’s good word, and nobody’s notice; who has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to employ, and two new coats every year.

Marianne Dashwood

Add to which, that he has neither genius, taste, nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no , and his voice no expression.

Elinor Dashwood

You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass, and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the I am able to give of him is comparatively cold and . I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an amiable heart.

John Willoughby

Miss Dashwood, you are now using me unkindly. You are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, and to convince me against my will. But it will not do.

You shall find me as stubborn as you can be artful. I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel Brandon; he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he has found fault with the of my curricle, and I cannot persuade him to buy my brown mare.

If it will be any satisfaction to you, however, to be told, that I believe his character to be in other respects , I am ready to confess it. And in return for an acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, you cannot deny me the privilege of disliking him as much as ever.

For all of his passionate dislike for Colonel Brandon, Willoughby doesn't seem to have much of a reason. And the three reasons he does give point to the exact quality Elinor likes in Brandon: that he's sensible.'He threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine' means he rained on my parade with his realism. 'He has found fault with the hanging of my curricle' means he criticized my sports car—a curricle being a fast, two-wheeled open carriage that served as a major status symbol for young Regency men.And 'I cannot persuade him to buy my brown mare' means Willoughby tried to offload one of his horses onto Brandon, but Brandon was too sharp to take the deal. Which really sums up Marianne and Willoughby's criticism all along: that Colonel Brandon is just a thirty-five-year-old fuddy-duddy.

Still Yours

Willoughby just won the Dashwoods' trust. What will his horse promise imply?

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Marianne's ankle recovered, and she was soon dancing again at the private balls at Barton Park. Couples were expected to change partners, but Marianne and Willoughby made their preference obvious. They danced together for half the evening and stayed together between dances. Elinor was embarrassed by their behavior, but Marianne saw nothing wrong with it.One evening, while the others danced, Colonel Brandon watched Marianne and asked Elinor about her sister's refusal to believe in second attachments. In other words, Marianne thought a person could fall in love only once. Elinor hoped experience would change her sister's mind. Brandon was less willing to wish that change on Marianne.

Colonel Brandon

This cannot hold; but a change, a total change of sentiments—No, no, do not desire it; for when the romantic of a young mind are obliged to give way, how frequently are they succeeded by such opinions as are but too common, and too dangerous! I speak from experience. I once knew a lady who in temper and mind greatly resembled your sister, who thought and judged like her, but who from an enforced change—from a series of unfortunate circumstances—

Colonel Brandon then stopped, as though he had said too much.The next morning, Marianne told Elinor that Willoughby had given her a horse.

Marianne Dashwood

He intends to send his into Somersetshire immediately for it, and when it arrives we will ride every day. You shall share its use with me. Imagine to yourself, my dear Elinor, the delight of a gallop on some of these downs.

Marianne had not considered what it would cost to keep a horse. Part of the expense came from the rules of polite society.David Shapard explains that a woman riding a horse was expected to have a male groom accompany her. The Dashwoods were already down to three servants. A groom would bring higher wages and the cost of his livery, or uniform. They would also owe a tax for employing him. By this time, the servant tax applied only to men, making a groom especially expensive.

David Shapard

Given the rainy nature of the climate here, they would have particular need of a good stable, rather than a mere shed. The cost of that, along with the servant, the extra horse, and food and equipment for both horses, would make it prohibitively expensive for the Dashwoods. Willoughby shows both social and financial in thinking the gift would be appropriate.

Elinor questioned Marianne about accepting so large a gift from a man she had known for so little time. This was Marianne's response.

Marianne Dashwood

You are mistaken, Elinor, in supposing I know very little of Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed, but I am much better acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature in the world, except yourself and mama. It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others. I should hold myself guilty of greater in accepting a horse from my brother, than from Willoughby. Of John I know very little, though we have lived together for years; but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed.

Elinor appealed to Marianne's affection for their mother. She explained that Mrs. Dashwood would probably consent out of kindness, despite the expense and inconvenience. Marianne relented. She promised not to put her mother on the spot, and to decline the horse when she next saw Willoughby.Willoughby called later that day, and Marianne kept her word. In a hushed voice, she explained her disappointment and why she could not accept the horse.Willoughby had named the mare Queen Mab, the fairy mentioned in Romeo and Juliet who brings people dreams while they sleep.

Jane Austen

His concern however was very apparent; and after expressing it with earnestness, he added, in the same low voice,

John Willoughby

But, Marianne, the horse is still yours, though you cannot use it now. I shall keep it only till you can claim it. When you leave Barton to form your own in a more lasting home, Queen Mab shall receive you.

Jane Austen

This was all overheard by Miss Dashwood; and in the whole of the sentence, in his manner of pronouncing it, and in his addressing her sister by her Christian name alone, she instantly saw an intimacy so decided, a meaning so direct, as marked a perfect agreement between them.From that moment she doubted not of their being engaged to each other; and the belief of it created no other surprise than that she, or any of their friends, should be left by tempers so frank, to discover it by accident.

Elinor's inference rests partly on one word: Willoughby's use of "Marianne."

David Shapard

Willoughby’s use of Marianne’s first name represents an even greater of intimacy than her use of his last name alone. Usually it was only after a marriage proposal was accepted that a man would progress to that. For that same reason Marianne’s apparent acquiescence in his usage is a sign of imprudence, for it suggests acknowledgment on her part of an engaged state even though no such state exists.

The next day, Margaret, the youngest Dashwood sister, brought Elinor another piece of evidence. She had seen Willoughby cut a lock of Marianne's hair and put it in his pocketbook. A lock of hair was commonly kept as a memento of romantic love. It was not a proposal, but it looked like another sign of an engagement.At Barton Park, Margaret was even less discreet about Elinor herself. Mrs. Jennings pressed her to name the man Elinor favored, and Margaret looked to her older sister for permission to tell. Margaret revealed that his name began with an F. The clue pointed to Edward Ferrars, whom Elinor had left behind at Norland.Marianne tried to stop the questioning. Lady Middleton changed the subject to the weather, and Colonel Brandon helped her keep the conversation there. Their efforts ended the embarrassing questions, though Elinor remained distressed.The party planned to visit Whitwell the following day, twelve miles from Barton. The estate belonged to Colonel Brandon's brother-in-law, who was abroad.

A Folly to Linger

Marianne just refused Willoughby's horse. Will Allenham confirm the match?

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Everyone gathered at Barton Park for breakfast, but before they set out for Whitwell, Colonel Brandon received a letter. When he looked at the address, he turned pale. After reading the letter, he apologized to the group and insisted that he must return to London at once. To everyone's disappointment, the trip to Whitwell was canceled, and Sir John suggested a drive through the countryside. Marianne and Willoughby rode together in his two-seated curricle, and they soon vanished out of sight on their own adventure.At dinner, Mrs. Jennings announced that she had her servant learn from Willoughby's groom where they had been. They had gone to Allenham, the estate that Willoughby expected to inherit from old Mrs. Smith.After dinner, Elinor questioned Marianne on the propriety of it. It was not considered acceptable for an unmarried man and woman to enter a house alone. Marianne's argument draws on moral sense philosophy: the idea that humans are endowed with a natural sense of right and wrong. Marianne insisted that if the visit had been wrong, she would have felt its wrongness. Instead, she was delighted by the visit and took that pleasure as proof that she did nothing wrong.

Jane Austen

As soon as they left the dining-room, Elinor enquired of her about it; and great was her surprise when she found that every circumstance related by Mrs. Jennings was perfectly true. Marianne was quite angry with her for doubting it.

Marianne Dashwood

Why should you imagine, Elinor, that we did not go there, or that we did not see the house? Is not it what you have often wished to do yourself?

Elinor Dashwood

Yes, Marianne, but I would not go while Mrs. Smith was there, and with no other companion than Mr. Willoughby.

Marianne Dashwood

Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to show that house; and as he went in an open carriage, it was impossible to have any other companion. I never spent a pleasanter morning in my life.

Elinor Dashwood

I am afraid that the pleasantness of an employment does not always its .

Marianne Dashwood

On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof of it, Elinor; for if there had been any real impropriety in what I did, I should have been sensible of it at the time, for we always know when we are acting wrong, and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure.

Elinor Dashwood

But, my dear Marianne, as it has already exposed you to some very remarks, do you not now begin to doubt the discretion of your own conduct?

Marianne Dashwood

If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. Jennings are to be the proof of impropriety in conduct, we are all offending every moment of our lives. I value not her any more than I should do her commendation. I am not sensible of having done anything wrong in walking over Mrs. Smith’s grounds, or in seeing her house. They will one day be Mr. Willoughby’s, and—

Elinor Dashwood

If they were one day to be your own, Marianne, you would not be justified in what you have done.

Marianne blushed, visibly pleased by the hint. Ten minutes later, she returned to Elinor in great good humour.

Marianne Dashwood

Perhaps, Elinor, it was rather ill-judged in me to go to Allenham; but Mr. Willoughby wanted particularly to show me the place; and it is a charming house, I assure you.—There is one remarkably pretty sitting room up stairs; of a nice comfortable size for constant use, and with modern furniture it would be delightful.I did not see it to advantage, for nothing could be more forlorn than the furniture,—but if it were newly fitted up—a couple of hundred pounds, Willoughby says, would make it one of the pleasantest summer-rooms in England.

Jane Austen

Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the others, she would have described every room in the house with equal delight.

At this point, everyone expects a marriage. Household arrangements were a wife's responsibility. So the generous interpretation of Willoughby's tour and talk of new furniture was that he was signaling a marriage. Marianne's remarks confirm that she was under the same impression.Willoughby also spent all his time at Barton Cottage. He already seemed part of the family. When Mrs Dashwood spoke of improving the cottage, Willoughby insisted that she mustn't.

John Willoughby

What! Improve this dear cottage! No. That I will never consent to. Not a stone must be added to its walls, not an inch to its size, if my feelings are regarded.

Mrs. Dashwood

Thank you, Willoughby. But you may be assured that I would not sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment of yours, or of any one whom I loved, for all the improvements in the world.

John Willoughby

To me it is faultless. Nay, more, I consider it as the only form of building in which happiness is attainable, and were I rich enough I would instantly pull Combe down, and build it up again in the exact plan of this cottage.

Elinor Dashwood

With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes, I suppose.

John Willoughby

Yes, with all and every thing belonging to it;—in no one convenience or inconvenience about it, should the least variation be perceptible.

Several academics note that Willoughby's speech is a metaphor. Idone Rhodes reads his praise of the “faultless” cottage as praise of his idealized Marianne. Diane Kim-Neu and Zan Cammack note that he wishes to freeze the cottage in time, and that improvements would spoil it. “That's not really something you would wish for a person—to keep them in this arrested development.”

Elinor, Margaret, and Mrs. Dashwood are returning from Barton Park after having left Marianne behind in the cottage, with the expectation that she would be called upon by Willoughby.

Jane Austen

On their return from the park they found Willoughby’s curricle and servant in waiting at the cottage, and Mrs. Dashwood was convinced that her conjecture had been just. So far it was all as she had foreseen; but on entering the house she beheld what no foresight had taught her to expect.

They were no sooner in the passage than Marianne came hastily out of the parlour apparently in violent affliction, with her handkerchief at her eyes; and without noticing them ran up stairs. Surprised and alarmed they proceeded directly into the room she had just quitted, where they found only Willoughby, who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his back towards them.He turned round on their coming in, and his countenance showed that he strongly partook of the emotion which over-powered Marianne.

Mrs. Dashwood

Is anything the matter with her? Is she ill?

John Willoughby

I hope not. It is I who may rather expect to be ill—for I am now suffering under a very heavy disappointment!

Mrs. Dashwood

Disappointment?

John Willoughby

Mrs. Smith has this morning exercised the privilege of riches upon a poor dependent cousin, by sending me on business to London. I have just received my , and taken my farewell of Allenham; and by way of exhilaration I am now come to take my farewell of you.

Mrs. Dashwood

To London!—and are you going this morning?

John Willoughby

Almost this moment.

Mrs. Dashwood

This is very unfortunate. But Mrs. Smith must be ;—and her business will not detain you from us long I hope.

John Willoughby

You are very kind, but I have no idea of returning into Devonshire immediately. My visits to Mrs. Smith are never repeated within the twelvemonth.

Mrs. Dashwood

And is Mrs. Smith your only friend? Is Allenham the only house in the neighbourhood to which you will be welcome? For shame, Willoughby, can you wait for an invitation here?

Jane Austen

Mrs. Dashwood looked at Elinor with surprise. Elinor felt equal amazement. For a few moments every one was silent.

John Willoughby

My engagements at present are of such a nature—that—I dare not flatter myself—

Jane Austen

He stopped. Mrs. Dashwood was too much astonished to speak, and another pause succeeded. This was broken by Willoughby, who said with a faint smile,

John Willoughby

It is folly to linger in this manner. I will not torment myself any longer by remaining among friends whose society it is impossible for me now to enjoy.

Jane Austen

He then hastily took leave of them all and left the room. They saw him step into his carriage, and in a minute it was out of sight.

Mrs. Dashwood withdrew to be alone. Half an hour later, she returned with an explanation that satisfied her. She reasoned that Mrs. Smith disapproved of Willoughby's attachment to Marianne. Because he depended on Mrs. Smith's goodwill for his expected inheritance, he could not defy her. Elinor wanted to believe this explanation. Willoughby and Marianne had conducted themselves as if they were engaged, but Elinor had no direct proof of their understanding.

David Shapard

The prevailing rules of society, which Elinor endorses, stated that an unmarried man and woman should avoid open or displays of affection in order to keep them, especially her, from dangerously committing their hearts before being certain of the other’s commitment. Once they are engaged, however, they should proclaim the fact clearly to others, ensuring that neither would be able to the agreement without suffering censure or other serious social consequences.

Marianne did not appear until dinner. She sat without speaking, her eyes red and swollen. When her mother pressed her hand, she burst into tears and left the room.

• Vol. I, Ch. 1–3 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch. 5-6 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch 3-4 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch. 7-8 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch. 9-10 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch. 11-12 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch. 13-15 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Vol I, Ch. 3 from "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

• Chapter 13 from "What Matters in Jane Austen?" by John Mullan (optional)

• "Jane Austen" by Claire Tomalin (optional)

• Chapters 2 &18 from "What Matters in Jane Austen?" by John Mullan (optional)

• Vol I, Ch 3-4 from "The Annotated Sense and Sensibility" by David Shapard (optional)

• Chapter 15 from "Jane Austen at Home" by Lucy Worsley (optional)

• Chapter 8 from "The Time Traveler's Guide to Regency Britain" by Ian Mortimer (optional)

• Chapter 8 from "The Annotated Sense and Sensibility" by David Shapard (optional)

• "Sense and Sensibility: The Screenplay and Diaries" by Emma Thompson (optional)

• Vol I, Ch. 9-10 from "The Annotated Sense and Sensibility" by David Shapard (optional)

• Chapters 17-18 from "What Matters in Jane Austen?" by John Mullan (optional)

• "The Life and Works of Jane Austen" by Devoney Looser (optional)

• "The Time Traveler's Guide to Regency Britain" by Ian Mortimer (optional)

• "Mirror of Graces" by 19th Century Lady of Distinction (optional)

• "Jane Austen's England" by Roy and Lesley Adkins (optional)

Table of contents

Promises and Precarity

Settled in Sussex

Fish and Game

Driving a Barouche

To Wish Was to Hope

Poor and Small

A Miracle at Forty

Walked Out of a Book

Threatened Me with Rain

Still Yours

A Folly to Linger