e house, and they were quite overcome by the captivating
manners of Mrs. Dashwood. Indeed a man could not very well be in love
with either of her daughters, without extending the passion to her;
and Elinor had the satisfaction of seeing him soon become more like
himself. His affections seemed to reanimate towards them all, and his
interest in their welfare again became perceptible. He was not in
spirits, however; he praised their house, admired its prospect, was
attentive, and kind; but still he was not in spirits. The whole family
perceived it, and Mrs. Dashwood, attributing it to some want of
liberality in his mother, sat down to table indignant against all
selfish parents.

"What are Mrs. Ferrars's views for you at present, Edward?" said she,
when dinner was over and they had drawn round the fire; "are you still
to be a great orator in spite of yourself?"

"No. I hope my mother is now convinced that I have no more talents
than inclination for a public life!"

"But how is your fame to be established? for famous you must be to
satisfy all your family; and with no inclination for expense, no
affection for strangers, no profession, and no assurance, you may find
it a difficult matter."

"I shall not attempt it. I have no wish to be distinguished; and have
every reason to hope I never shall. Thank Heaven! I cannot be forced
into genius and eloquence."

"You have no ambition, I well know. Your wishes are all moderate."

"As moderate as those of the rest of the world, I believe. I wish as
well as every body else to be perfectly happy; but, like every body
else it must be in my own way. Greatness will not make me so."

"Strange that it would!" cried Marianne. "What have wealth or grandeur
to do with happiness?"

"Grandeur has but little," said Elinor, "but wealth has much to do
with it."

"Elinor, for shame!" said Marianne, "money can only give happiness
where there is nothing else to give it. Beyond a competence, it can
afford no real satisfaction, as far as mere self is concerned."

"Perhaps," said Elinor, smiling, "we may come to the same point.
_Your_ competence and _my_ wealth are very much alike, I dare say; and
without them, as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every
kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas are only more
noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?"

"About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year; not more than _that._"

Elinor laughed. "_Two_ thousand a year!