书虫5级《理智与情感》9．玛丽安娜的病

9. Marianne's illness

Before leaving London, Elinor paid one last visit to her brother and his wife. Fanny did not wish to see her, and stayed in her room, but John was very interested in the news of Edward's good luck. He could not understand why the colonel should give away a living, when he could have sold it. But he had something more particular to say to his sister. Taking her hand, he spoke in a very serious whisper.

There is one thing I must say, because I know it will please you. I know, in fact, Fanny heard her mother say, that although perhaps she did not approve of... of a certain attachment of Edward's—you understand me—it would have been far preferable to her than this engagement to Miss Steele. Of course all that is quite in the past now, and out of the question. But I thought I would just tell you, my dear Elinor. Not that you have any reason to be sad. There is no doubt of your doing extremely well. Has Colonel Brandon been with you lately?'

Elinor was glad to be spared the need to reply by the entrance of Mr Robert Ferrars. She had only met him once before and had found him a thoughtless and insensitive young man, full of his own self-importance. This short meeting only served to support her low opinion of his head and heart. He talked happily of Edward's inheritance, which he would now enjoy, and laughed loudly at the idea of Edward as a poor vicar living in a cottage.

His engagement certainly was very shocking news,' he added. 'I said to my mother, "My dear madam, I do not know what you intend to do, but for myself, I must say that if Edward marries this young woman, I shall never see him again." I saw the girl once, you know, just a plain, country girl, with no elegance or beauty. I cannot help thinking that if I had heard of the connection earlier, I could have persuaded Edward to break it off. But now it is all too late. He must be punished, that is certain.'

Elinor was relieved that she could not stay long, and sincerely hoped she would not see Robert Ferrars again.

The journey to Cleveland, the Palmers' home in Somerset, took two days. Their house was comfortable and modern, with large, well-kept gardens and woods. On her arrival Marianne went straight into the garden. She was feeling more agitated than usual, aware of being only eighty miles from Barton and only thirty from Willoughby's country house, but she loved being back in the romantic countryside. She determined to spend as much time as possible taking lonely walks through the gardens and woods. Alone, she would be free to delight in her misery, thinking, dreaming, remembering.

The hours passed quietly at Cleveland. Mrs Palmer had her child, and Mrs Jennings her sewing. Elinor was surprised to find Mr Palmer very capable of being a pleasant companion, and only occasionally rude to his wife and mother-in-law. Colonel Brandon, who was also a guest of the Palmers', spent a great deal of time with Elinor, talking to her about the vicar's house at Delaford and the repairs he was planning to have done to it. His pleasure in her conversation and his respect for her opinion would have been enough to justify Mrs Jennings' view of his attachment, and even, perhaps, to make Elinor suspect it herself. She still felt certain, however, that while he spoke to her, it was Marianne at whom he looked, and of whom he thought. When Marianne mentioned that she had a sore throat, and felt unwell, the colonel appeared extremely worried. In his concern Elinor saw the quick feelings and needless alarm of a lover.

Two delightful evening walks in thick wet grass had given Marianne a violent cold. She felt heavy and feverish, with pains all over her body, but at first refused all medicines, saying that a good night's rest was all that she needed.

The next day, however, she was worse, unable to do anything except lie miserable on a sofa, and after another restless, feverish night, Elinor was very ready to send for the Palmers' doctor. After examining his patient, he said that she was suffering from an infection, and would recover in a few days. But the word 'infection' greatly alarmed Mrs Palmer, who feared that her baby might catch it, and she persuaded her husband to take her and the child to stay with a near relation, until there was no further danger of illness at Cleveland. Mrs Jennings kindly insisted on staying with the Miss Dashwoods, as she felt responsible for the young ladies in their mother's absence, and Colonel Brandon also offered to stay, in case a gentleman's help was needed. Poor Marianne now felt really ill, and extremely miserable, as their return to Barton would have to be considerable delayed.

Several days passed, and Marianne's condition remained the same. The doctor came every day, talking each time of a speedy recovery, and Elinor was just as hopeful. In her letters home, she had not told her mother of the seriousness of Marianne's illness, and now congratulated herself on not alarming Mrs Dashwood unnecessarily. But that evening, Marianne became restless again, and Elinor stayed beside her bed, watching her turning feverishly from side to side. Suddenly Marianne sat up and cried wildly, 'Is mama coming?'

Not yet,' replied Elinor, hiding her terror, and helping her sister to lie down again. 'It is a long way from Barton.'

But she must come soon!' cried Marianne desperately. 'I shall never see her again if she does not come soon!'

Elinor was so alarmed that she sent for the doctor at once, and decided to send a messenger to Barton to fetch her mother. She spoke immediately to Colonel Brandon, who, although greatly depressed and fearing the worst, was ready to help in any way, and offered to drive to Barton himself. How grateful Elinor was for the comfort of such a friend as the colonel at that moment! Not a second was lost in delay of any kind, and the colonel drove off into the night, leaving Elinor to watch over her sister.

Both sisters suffered greatly during that night, Marianne in her sleepless pain and fever, and Elinor in cruel anxiety that her mother would arrive too late to see her dear child alive. When the doctor came, he had to confess that his medicines had failed, and that the infection was stronger than ever. Elinor was calm, except when she thought of her mother, but she was almost without hope. She stayed by her sister's bed all morning, her thoughts confused and sorrowful.

But at midday, she began to see signs of the fever going down. Cautiously, she told herself not to hope, but soon it seemed almost certain, and on the doctor's next visit, he was able to congratulate her on Marianne's slow but sure recovery. Mrs Jennings showed her delight by talking and laughing without stopping, but Elinor's feelings were of a different kind. Her relief and happiness were strong, but silent. That evening Marianne fell into a quiet, comfortable sleep, and Elinor knew that at last she was out of danger.

Her thoughts now began to turn to her mother's arrival, which was expected at any moment. Mrs Jennings persuaded her to leave Marianne's bedside for a few minutes to drink some tea, but Elinor soon returned, to sit by her sleeping sister and wait for the travellers from Barton. The night was cold and stormy, but as long as Marianne slept peacefully, Elinor did not mind the beating of the rain on the windows, or the noise of the wind blowing round the house.

At eight o'clock she heard a carriage drive up to the front door. Knowing what her poor mother must be feeling, Elinor found it impossible to be calm, and hurried downstairs. She rushed into the sitting-room, and saw—Willoughby.

With a look of horror, she stepped backwards, and was about to leave the room, when he said rapidly, 'Miss Dashwood, I beg you to stay. I have something I must tell you.'

Elinor was astonished. 'To tell me? Well, sir, if you must. But be quick. I have no time to spare.'

Tell me first, is your sister really out of danger?'

We hope she is,' replied Elinor coldly.

Thank God! I heard she was ill, and I have driven all day to get here. I have come to offer some kind of explanation, to show you that I have not always been a scoundrel, and to receive something like forgiveness from Ma—your sister.'

Marianne has already forgiven you.'

Has she?' he cried eagerly. 'But listen, I must explain. When I first met your family, I had no other intention than to pass the time pleasantly while in Devonshire. My income was never large, and my debts are always very great, so I was planning to attach myself to a woman of fortune. But I soon found myself sincerely fond of your sister, and the happiest hours of my life were spent with her. I allowed myself, most wrongly, to put off asking her to marry me. At last I determined to speak of marriage, but unfortunately my relation, Mrs Smith, had just discovered a connection'—he reddened, and looked away—'but you have probably heard the whole story from Colonel Brandon.'

I have,' replied Elinor, also blushing, 'and I cannot see how you will explain away your part in that terrible business.'

No, I know I was at fault,' cried Willoughby, 'but I must ask you to believe that I had no idea Eliza was in such need. I suffered too, because Mrs Smith was extremely angry at my behaviour, and refused to allow me any more money, or see me again. I knew that if I married Marianne, I would be poor, and I couldn't bear the thought of that. So I came to Barton Cottage, to say goodbye to her. How happy I had been, the day before, ready to become engaged to her! And how miserable I was when I saw her sorrow and deep disappointment! Oh God! What a hard-hearted scoundrel I was!'

There was a short silence, while Willoughby recovered his self-control, and Elinor's heart softened a little towards him.

And then in London, Marianne's notes to me! Every word was a knife in my heart! She was far dearer to me than any other woman in the world, but by then I was engaged to Miss Grey!'

Do not speak like that of my sister, Mr Willoughby,' said Elinor. 'Remember that you are a married man now.'

He began to laugh wildly. 'Married, yes. Did you like the letter I wrote to Marianne? Miss Grey happened to see Marianne's last note to me, and read it. Her jealous anger made her think of a cruel punishment for me. She told me what to write, and watched over me as I wrote the letter. They were all her own gentle words, her own sweet thoughts. I could not risk losing her—I needed her money to pay my debts.'

You ought not to speak of Mrs Willoughby in this way. You have made your choice, and should respect your wife.'

She does not deserve your pity. I have no chance of domestic happiness with her. But do you think me less guilty than before? Will you tell your sister, when she is recovered, what I have told you? If ever, one day, by some happy chance, I were free again—' Elinor stopped him with a frown. 'Well, I shall leave now. I shall live in terror of one event—your sister's marriage.'

She can never be more lost to you than she is now.'

But someone else will have her. And if that someone were he, whom of all men I could least bear... But I must go. Goodbye.' And he almost ran out of the room.

Elinor's heart was full as she returned to her sleeping sister. The past, the present, the future—Willoughby's visit and the pity she felt for him, Marianne's health and her mother's expected arrival, made her so agitated that she did not notice her hunger or tiredness. Only half an hour later, a second carriage arrived at the house. Elinor hurried to the door, just in time to receive and support her mother as she entered, half-dead with fear. In a moment Elinor was able to give the good news, and Mrs Dashwood's tears silently expressed her relief. Colonel Brandon shared her feelings in an even greater silence. In two minutes Mrs Dashwood was with her suffering child, made dearer than ever by absence, unhappiness and danger.

Marianne's recovery continued every day, and Mrs Dashwood soon found an opportunity to tell Elinor another piece of news. On the long drive from Barton to Cleveland, Colonel Brandon had been unable to hide his feelings, and had told Mrs Dashwood that he had long wanted to marry Marianne. Mrs Dashwood was now as certain of the colonel's excellent character as she had once been of Willoughby's, and hoped that Marianne would, in time, come to accept Colonel Brandon's offer of marriage.