, and she exclaimed, in a voice of the greatest
emotion, "Good God! Willoughby, what is the meaning of this? Have you
not received my letters? Will you not shake hands with me?"

He could not then avoid it, but her touch seemed painful to him, and
he held her hand only for a moment. During all this time he was
evidently struggling for composure. Elinor watched his countenance and
saw its expression becoming more tranquil. After a moment's pause, he
spoke with calmness.

"I did myself the honour of calling in Berkeley Street last Tuesday,
and very much regretted that I was not fortunate enough to find
yourselves and Mrs. Jennings at home. My card was not lost, I hope."

"But have you not received my notes?" cried Marianne in the wildest
anxiety. "Here is some mistake I am sure--some dreadful mistake. What
can be the meaning of it? Tell me, Willoughby; for heaven's sake tell
me, what is the matter?"

He made no reply; his complexion changed and all his embarrassment
returned; but as if, on catching the eye of the young lady with whom
he had been previously talking, he felt the necessity of instant
exertion, he recovered himself again, and after saying, "Yes, I had
the pleasure of receiving the information of your arrival in town,
which you were so good as to send me," turned hastily away with a
slight bow and joined his friend.

Marianne, now looking dreadfully white, and unable to stand, sunk into
her chair, and Elinor, expecting every moment to see her faint, tried
to screen her from the observation of others, while reviving her with
lavender water.

"Go to him, Elinor," she cried, as soon as she could speak, "and force
him to come to me. Tell him I must see him again--must speak to him
instantly. I cannot rest--I shall not have a moment's peace till this
is explained--some dreadful misapprehension or other. Oh, go to him
this moment."

"How can that be done? No, my dearest Marianne, you must wait. This is
not the place for explanations. Wait only till tomorrow."

With difficulty however could she prevent her from following him
herself; and to persuade her to check her agitation, to wait, at
least, with the appearance of composure, till she might speak to him
with more privacy and more effect, was impossible; for Marianne
continued incessantly to give way in a low voice to the misery of her
feelings, by exclamations of wretchedness. In a short time Elinor saw
Willoughby quit the room by the door towards the st