awing!" replied Elinor, "why should you think so? He
does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the
performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means
deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of
improving it. Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he
would have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such
matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on
any picture; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste,
which in general direct him perfectly right."

Marianne was afraid of offending, and said no more on the subject; but
the kind of approbation which Elinor described as excited in him by
the drawings of other people, was very far from that rapturous
delight, which, in her opinion, could alone be called taste. Yet,
though smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured her sister
for that blind partiality to Edward which produced it.

"I hope, Marianne," continued Elinor, "you do not consider him as
deficient in general taste. Indeed, I think I may say that you cannot,
for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial, and if _that_ were
your opinion, I am sure you could never be civil to him."

Marianne hardly knew what to say. She would not wound the feelings of
her sister on any account, and yet to say what she did not believe was
impossible. At length she replied:

"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 minuter propensities of his mind, his
inclinations 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 amiable."

"I am sure," replied Elinor, with a smile, "that his dearest friends
could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that. I do not
perceive how you could express yourself more warmly."

Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased.

"Of his sense and his goodness," continued Elinor, "no one can, I
think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in
unreserved 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.
But of his minuter propensities, as you call them you have from
peculiar circumstances been k