give her the dignity of
having, for the first time since her living at Barton, more company
with her than her house would hold. Edward was allowed to retain the
privilege of first comer, and Colonel Brandon therefore walked every
night to his old quarters at the Park; from whence he usually returned
in the morning, early enough to interrupt the lovers' first
tete-a-tete before breakfast.

A three weeks' residence at Delaford, where, in his evening hours at
least, he had little to do but to calculate the disproportion between
thirty-six and seventeen, brought him to Barton in a temper of mind
which needed all the improvement in Marianne's looks, all the kindness
of her welcome, and all the encouragement of her mother's language, to
make it cheerful. Among such friends, however, and such flattery, he
did revive. No rumour of Lucy's marriage had yet reached him:--he knew
nothing of what had passed; and the first hours of his visit were
consequently spent in hearing and in wondering. Every thing was
explained to him by Mrs. Dashwood, and he found fresh reason to
rejoice in what he had done for Mr. Ferrars, since eventually it
promoted the interest of Elinor.

It would be needless to say, that the gentlemen advanced in the good
opinion of each other, as they advanced in each other's acquaintance,
for it could not be otherwise. Their resemblance in good principles
and good sense, in disposition and manner of thinking, would probably
have been sufficient to unite them in friendship, without any other
attraction; but their being in love with two sisters, and two sisters
fond of each other, made that mutual regard inevitable and immediate,
which might otherwise have waited the effect of time and judgment.

The letters from town, which a few days before would have made every
nerve in Elinor's body thrill with transport, now arrived to be read
with less emotion that mirth. Mrs. Jennings wrote to tell the
wonderful tale, to vent her honest indignation against the jilting
girl, and pour forth her compassion towards poor Mr. Edward, who, she
was sure, had quite doted upon the worthless hussy, and was now, by
all accounts, almost broken-hearted, at Oxford. "I do think," she
continued, "nothing was ever carried on so sly; for it was but two
days before Lucy called and sat a couple of hours with me. Not a soul
suspected anything of the matter, not even Nancy, who, poor soul! came
crying to me the day after, in a great fright for fear