When she told Marianne what she had done, however, her first reply was not very auspicious.
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“Cleveland!”–she cried, with great agitation.
“No, I cannot go to Cleveland.”–
“You forget,” said Elinor gently, “that its situation is not…that it is not in the neighbourhood of…”
“But it is in Somersetshire.–I cannot go
into Somersetshire.–There, where I looked forward to going…No, Elinor, you cannot expect me to go there.”
Elinor would not argue upon the propriety of overcoming such feelings;–she only endeavoured to counteract them by working on others;–represented it, therefore, as a measure which would fix the time of her returning to that dear mother, whom she so much wished to see, in a more eligible, more comfortable manner, than any other plan could do, and perhaps without any greater delay. From Cleveland, which was within a few miles of Bristol, the distance to Barton was not beyond one day, though a long day’s journey; and their mother’s servant might easily come there to attend them down; and as there could be no occasion of their staying above a week at Cleveland, they might now be at home in little more than three weeks’ time. As Marianne’s affection for her mother was sincere, it must triumph with little difficulty, over the imaginary evils she had started.
Mrs. Jennings was so far from being weary of her guest, that she pressed them very earnestly to return with her again from Cleveland. Elinor was grateful for the attention, but it could not alter her design; and their mother’s concurrence being readily gained, every thing relative to their return was arranged as far as it could be;–
and Marianne found some relief in drawing up a statement of the hours that were yet to divide her from Barton.
“Ah! Colonel, I do not know what you and I shall do without the Miss Dashwoods;”–was Mrs. Jennings’s address to him when he first called on her, after their leaving her was settled–“for they are quite resolved upon going home from the Palmers;–and how forlorn we shall be, when I come back!–Lord! we shall sit and gape at one another as dull as two cats.”
Perhaps Mrs. Jennings was in hopes, by this vigorous sketch of their future ennui, to provoke him to make that offer, which might give himself an escape from it;–
and if so, she had soon afterwards good reason to think her object gained; for, on Elinor’s moving to the window to take more expeditiously the dimensions of a print, which she was going to copy for her friend, he followed her to it with a look of particular meaning, and conversed with her there for several minutes. The effect of his discourse on the lady too, could not escape her observation, for though she was too honorable to listen, and had even changed her seat, on purpose that she might NOT hear, to one close by the piano forte on which Marianne
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was playing, she could not keep herself from seeing that Elinor changed colour, attended with agitation, and was too intent on what he said to pursue her employment.–
Still farther in confirmation of her hopes, in the interval of Marianne’s turning from one lesson to another, some words of the Colonel’s inevitably reached her ear, in which he seemed to be apologising for the badness of his house. This set the matter beyond a doubt.
She wondered, indeed, at his thinking it necessary to do so; but supposed it to be the proper etiquette.
What Elinor said in reply she could not distinguish, but judged from the motion of her lips, that she did not think THAT any material objection;–and Mrs. Jennings commended her in her heart for being so honest.
They then talked on for a few minutes longer without her catching a syllable, when another lucky stop in Marianne’s performance brought her these words in the Colonel’s calm voice,–
“I am afraid it cannot take place very soon.”
Astonished and shocked at so unlover-like a speech, she was almost ready to cry out, “Lord! what should hinder it?”–but checking her desire, confined herself to this silent ejaculation.
“This is very strange!–sure he need not wait to be older.”