el, her own mistaken judgment in encouraging the unfortunate
attachment to Willoughby, had contributed to place her; and in her
recovery she had yet another source of joy unthought of by Elinor. It
was thus imparted to her, as soon as any opportunity of private
conference between them occurred.

"At last we are alone. My Elinor, you do not yet know all my
happiness. Colonel Brandon loves Marianne. He has told me so himself."

Her daughter, feeling by turns both pleased and pained, surprised and
not surprised, was all silent attention.

"You are never like me, dear Elinor, or I should wonder at your
composure now. Had I sat down to wish for any possible good to my
family, I should have fixed on Colonel Brandon's marrying one of you
as the object most desirable. And I believe Marianne will be the most
happy with him of the two."

Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, because
satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their
age, characters, or feelings, could be given;--but her mother must
always be carried away by her imagination on any interesting subject,
and therefore instead of an inquiry, she passed it off with a smile.

"He opened his whole heart to me yesterday as we travelled. It came
out quite unawares, quite undesignedly. I, you may well believe, could
talk of nothing but my child;--he could not conceal his distress; I
saw that it equalled my own, and he perhaps, thinking that mere
friendship, as the world now goes, would not justify so warm a
sympathy--or rather, not thinking at all, I suppose--giving way to
irresistible feelings, made me acquainted with his earnest, tender,
constant, affection for Marianne. He has loved her, my Elinor, ever
since the first moment of seeing her."

Here, however, Elinor perceived,--not the language, not the
professions of Colonel Brandon, but the natural embellishments of her
mother's active fancy, which fashioned every thing delightful to her
as it chose.

"His regard for her, infinitely surpassing anything that Willoughby
ever felt or feigned, as much more warm, as more sincere or constant,
which ever we are to call it, has subsisted through all the knowledge
of dear Marianne's unhappy prepossession for that worthless young man!
and without selfishness, without encouraging a hope! could he have
seen her happy with another. Such a noble mind! such openness, such
sincerity! No one can be deceived in _him._"

"Colonel Brandon's ch