Sense and Sensibility & Other Novels - 4 Books in One Edition. Джейн Остин

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      “Remember that whatever your conjectures may be, you have no right to repeat them.”

      “I never had any conjectures about it,” replied Margaret; “it was you who told me of it yourself.”

      This increased the mirth of the company, and Margaret was eagerly pressed to say something more.

      “Oh! pray, Miss Margaret, let us know all about it,” said Mrs. Jennings. “What is the gentleman’s name?”

      “I must not tell, ma’am. But I know very well what it is; and I know where he is too.”

      “Yes, yes, we can guess where he is; at his own house at Norland to be sure. He is the curate of the parish I dare say.”

      “No, THAT he is not. He is of no profession at all.”

      “Margaret,” said Marianne with great warmth, “you know that all this is an invention of your own, and that there is no such person in existence.”

      “Well, then, he is lately dead, Marianne, for I am sure there was such a man once, and his name begins with an F.”

      Most grateful did Elinor feel to Lady Middleton for observing, at this moment, “that it rained very hard,” though she believed the interruption to proceed less from any attention to her, than from her ladyship’s great dislike of all such inelegant subjects of raillery as delighted her husband and mother. The idea however started by her, was immediately pursued by Colonel Brandon, who was on every occasion mindful of the feelings of others; and much was said on the subject of rain by both of them. Willoughby opened the pianoforte, and asked Marianne to sit down to it; and thus amidst the various endeavours of different people to quit the topic, it fell to the ground. But not so easily did Elinor recover from the alarm into which it had thrown her.

      A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They contained a noble piece of water; a sail on which was to a form a great part of the morning’s amusement; cold provisions were to be taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure.

      To some few of the company it appeared rather a bold undertaking, considering the time of year, and that it had rained every day for the last fortnight;–and Mrs. Dashwood, who had already a cold, was persuaded by Elinor to stay at home.

       _{SENSE AND SENSIBILITY}

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      Their intended excursion to Whitwell turned out very different from what Elinor had expected. She was prepared to be wet through, fatigued, and frightened; but the event was still more unfortunate, for they did not go at all.

      By ten o’clock the whole party was assembled at the park, where they were to breakfast. The morning was rather favourable, though it had rained all night, as the clouds were then dispersing across the sky, and the sun frequently appeared. They were all in high spirits and good humour, eager to be happy, and determined to submit to the greatest inconveniences and hardships rather than be otherwise.

      While they were at breakfast the letters were brought in. Among the rest there was one for Colonel Brandon;–he took it, looked at the direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room.

      “What is the matter with Brandon?” said Sir John.

      Nobody could tell.

      “I hope he has had no bad news,” said Lady Middleton. “It must be something extraordinary that could make Colonel Brandon leave my breakfast table so suddenly.”

      In about five minutes he returned.

      “No bad news, Colonel, I hope;” said Mrs. Jennings, as soon as he entered the room.

      “None at all, ma’am, I thank you.”

      “Was it from Avignon? I hope it is not to say that your sister is worse.”

      “No, ma’am. It came from town, and is merely a letter of business.”

      “But how came the hand to discompose you so much, if it was only a letter of business? Come, come, this won’t do, Colonel; so let us hear the truth of it.”

      “My dear madam,” said Lady Middleton, “recollect what you are saying.”

      “Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin Fanny is married?” said Mrs. Jennings, without attending to her daughter’s reproof.

      “No, indeed, it is not.”

      “Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel. And I hope she is well.”

      “Whom do you mean, ma’am?” said he, colouring a little.

      “Oh! you know who I mean.”

      “I am particularly sorry, ma’am,” said he, addressing Lady Middleton, “that I should receive this letter today, for it is on business which requires my immediate attendance in town.”

      “In town!” cried Mrs. Jennings. “What can you have to do in town at this time of year?”

      “My own loss is great,” he continued, “in being obliged to leave so agreeable a party; but I am the more concerned, as I fear my presence is necessary to gain your admittance at Whitwell.”

      What a blow upon them all was this!

      “But if you write a note to the housekeeper, Mr. Brandon,” said Marianne, eagerly, “will it not be sufficient?”

      He shook his head.

      “We must go,” said Sir John.–“It shall not be put off when we are so near it. You cannot go to town till tomorrow, Brandon, that is all.”

      “I wish it could be so easily settled. But it is not in my power to delay my journey for one day!”

      “If you would but let us know what your business is,” said Mrs. Jennings, “we might see whether it could be put off or not.”

      “You would not be six hours later,” said Willoughby, “if you were to defer your journey till our return.”

      “I cannot afford to lose ONE hour.”–

      Elinor then heard Willoughby say, in a low voice to Marianne, “There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of them. He was afraid of catching cold I dare say, and invented this trick for getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was of his own writing.”

      “I have no doubt of it,” replied Marianne.

      “There is no persuading you to change your mind, СКАЧАТЬ