rom her
brother, by the entrance of Mr. Robert Ferrars. After a few moments'
chat, John Dashwood, recollecting that Fanny was yet uninformed of her
sister's being there, quitted the room in quest of her; and Elinor was
left to improve her acquaintance with Robert, who, by the gay
unconcern, the happy self-complacency of his manner while enjoying so
unfair a division of his mother's love and liberality, to the
prejudice of his banished brother, earned only by his own dissipated
course of life, and that brother's integrity, was confirming her most
unfavourable opinion of his head and heart.

[Illustration: "_Of one thing I may assure you._"]

They had scarcely been two minutes by themselves, before he began to
speak of Edward; for he, too, had heard of the living, and was very
inquisitive on the subject. Elinor repeated the particulars of it, as
she had given them to John; and their effect on Robert, though very
different, was not less striking than it had been on _him._ He laughed
most immoderately. The idea of Edward's being a clergyman, and living
in a small parsonage-house, diverted him beyond measure;--and when to
that was added the fanciful imagery of Edward reading prayers in a
white surplice, and publishing the banns of marriage between John
Smith and Mary Brown, he could conceive nothing more ridiculous.

Elinor, while she waited in silence and immovable gravity, the
conclusion of such folly, could not restrain her eyes from being fixed
on him with a look that spoke all the contempt it excited. It was a
look, however, very well bestowed, for it relieved her own feelings,
and gave no intelligence to him. He was recalled from wit to wisdom,
not by any reproof of her's, but by his own sensibility.

"We may treat it as a joke," said he, at last, recovering from the
affected laugh which had considerably lengthened out the genuine
gaiety of the moment; "but, upon my soul, it is a most serious
business. Poor Edward! he is ruined for ever. I am extremely sorry for
it; for I know him to be a very good-hearted creature,--as
well-meaning a fellow perhaps, as any in the world. You must not judge
of him, Miss Dashwood, from _your_ slight acquaintance. Poor Edward!
His manners are certainly not the happiest in nature. But we are not
all born, you know, with the same powers,--the same address. Poor
fellow! to see him in a circle of strangers! to be sure it was
pitiable enough; but upon my soul, I believe he has as good a he