“Are you ill, Miss Dashwood?–you seem low–you don’t speak;–sure you an’t well.”
“I never was in better health.”
“I am glad of it with all my heart; but really you did not look it. I should be sorry to have YOU ill; you, that have been the greatest comfort to me in the world!–Heaven knows what I should have done without your friendship.”–
Elinor tried to make a civil answer, though doubting her own success. But it seemed to satisfy Lucy, for she directly replied,
“Indeed I am perfectly convinced of your regard for me, and next to Edward’s love, it is the greatest comfort I have.–Poor Edward!–But now there is one good thing, we shall be able to meet, and meet pretty often, for Lady Middleton’s delighted with Mrs. Dashwood, so we shall be a good deal in Harley Street, I dare say, and Edward spends half his time with his sister–besides, Lady Middleton and Mrs. Ferrars will visit now;–
and Mrs. Ferrars and your sister were both so good to say
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more than once, they should always be glad to see me.–
They are such charming women!–I am sure if ever you tell your sister what I think of her, you cannot speak too high.”
But Elinor would not give her any encouragement
to hope that she SHOULD tell her sister. Lucy continued.
“I am sure I should have seen it in a moment, if Mrs. Ferrars had took a dislike to me. If she had only made me a formal courtesy, for instance, without saying a word, and never after had took any notice of me, and never looked at me in a pleasant way–you know what I mean–if I had been treated in that forbidding sort of way, I should have gave it all up in despair.
I could not have stood it. For where she DOES dislike, I know it is most violent.”
Elinor was prevented from making any reply to this civil triumph, by the door’s being thrown open, the servant’s announcing Mr. Ferrars, and Edward’s immediately walking in.
It was a very awkward moment; and the countenance of each shewed that it was so. They all looked exceedingly foolish; and Edward seemed to have as great an inclination to walk out of the room again, as to advance farther into it.
The very circumstance, in its unpleasantest form, which they would each have been most anxious to avoid, had fallen on them.–They were not only all three together, but were together without the relief of any other person.
The ladies recovered themselves first. It was not Lucy’s business to put herself forward, and the appearance of secrecy must still be kept up. She could therefore only LOOK her tenderness, and after slightly addressing him, said no more.
But Elinor had more to do; and so anxious was she, for his sake and her own, to do it well, that she forced herself, after a moment’s recollection,
to welcome him, with a look and manner that were almost easy, and almost open; and another struggle, another effort still improved them. She would not allow the presence of Lucy, nor the consciousness of some injustice towards herself, to deter her from saying that she was happy to see him, and that she had very much regretted being from home, when he called before in Berkeley Street. She would not be frightened from paying him those attentions which, as a friend and almost a relation, were his due, by the observant eyes of Lucy, though she soon perceived them to be narrowly watching her.
Her manners gave some re-assurance to Edward, and he had courage enough to sit down; but his embarrassment still exceeded that of the ladies in a proportion, which the case rendered reasonable, though his sex might make it rare; for his heart had not the indifference of Lucy’s, nor could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor’s.
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Lucy, with a demure and settled air, seemed determined to make no contribution to the comfort of the others, and would not say a word; and almost every thing that WAS
said, proceeded from Elinor, who was obliged to volunteer all the information about her mother’s health, their coming to town, &c. which Edward ought to have inquired about, but never did.