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Part 11 – Reactions

Posted on 2009-03-09

Mr Edward Ferrars was thinking of the sudden and unexpected events that had happened in the last couple of days. Of all the days for him to be away from home – he had been engaged that day with some friends at Richmond – it was the day on which the eldest Miss Steele had rashly revealed the secret of the youthful three year old engagement between her sister and his brother, and had caused such an uproar at Hanover Square, with the hysterical outburst of Mrs Palmer, followed by the equally hysterical outburst of Mrs Ferrars, as soon as Mrs Palmer had broken the news to her. Perhaps if Mr Palmer and Edward had been in town, the outcome might have been different, but as it was, there was no rational or honourable person to exercise either a restraining influence on those two women, or to support or counsel Robert Ferrars.

By the time Edward had arrived back in town, the affair was all over, Mrs Ferrars' lawyer had been sent for and almost everything, except for a relatively minor issue as to the possible payment involved, was settled. Edward had been greeted by a message that he was to go to his sister's house as soon as he returned to town, where she would explain everything to him.

When Edward had arrived at Hanover Square, he was greeted at once by his sister in her sitting room. His mother was also in the house, but it seemed that she was resting after all the exertions that she had been through – the shocking discovery, the hysterics, and finally the business with the lawyer.

"Oh, Edward," cried Fanny when he entered her room, "Mother and I have had such a shock, and we've been through such terrible suspense, but hopefully it's all over now, and the lawyer will arrange everything at not too great an expense."

"What has happened?"

"You've not spoken to Robert yet?"

"No, I have just arrived back, and received your message to come here at once, as you have some urgent business … what is it that was so terrible?"

"Oh, it is so difficult to know who to trust, and how am I ever to employ a genteel young woman as Tom's governess if such young women would use her arts and allurements to intrigue with his uncle – now that I come to think of it, she's always been too pretty to be considered suitable – when I engage a governess, I must make sure to find a young woman who is plain as well as genteel – I'm sure Robert would never have got into this trouble with a plain young woman."

"Robert is in trouble with a young woman?"

"He was secretly engaged to her – to that Lucy Steele – and the affair had actually lasted for three whole years! Why, he could not have been more than nineteen or twenty when it first started. It must have been her doing – that sly thing! I wonder how much Mr Pratt might have known of it – Mother thought that he was such a good tutor, that was why she sent both you and Robert to be educated at Longstaple – but I now wonder if he had been all along plotting to match the two of you with his two nieces! Thank goodness you at least didn't fall for the eldest niece, and she is of course rather plain, what a pity the younger sister is not plain as well. And I have been so deceived too, for I actually liked her and was thinking of asking her to be Tom's governess, for she appeared to be so good with him, that was why I invited her and her sister to stay here for a few days -- I thought they were harmless, well-behaved girls, and would be pleasant companions – and to find out that they were so deceitful! And that Miss Steele actually thought that I would be pleased to hear about that disgraceful engagement and would persuade Mother to consent to it! Mother was quite in an agony when I first broke it to her, and there was nobody to help and support us -- with Thomas still in Somersetshire, and you in Richmond – but Mr Donovan the apothecary was quite good, and the draughts he left us helped to steady our nerves. Though Mother and I could only consult each other, and then she sent for Robert. He came, and I'm thankful to say that he was quite reasonable – once Mother made it clear to him that if he persisted in this low connection, certain penury must attend the match. She told him that if he does not break the engagement, then his own two thousand pounds should be his all; she would never see him again, and so far would she be from affording him the smallest assistance, that if he were to enter into any profession with a view of better support, she would do all in her power to prevent his advancing in it."

At this point, Edward started, and could not help exclaiming, "Good God! Can it be possible?"

"You may well wonder, but as I've said, thankfully Robert became quite reasonable, and agreed to break off the engagement. But he has rather compromised himself; he confessed that he had written some very indiscreet love letters, so he has exposed himself to legal action for breach of promise of marriage. Mother sent for her lawyer directly, and the lawyer said that no action for breach of promise could lie against a minor. Unfortunately, although Robert was not yet twenty one when he first formed that imprudent engagement, he had written several letters to her after reaching his majority, referring to their engagement, so she might sue him for breach of promise based on those letters. If so, they will need to make a settlement, and I don't know how much it's going to cost poor Mother. She won't want the Ferrars name to be dragged in court of course, so a settlement will have to be made before matters might reach that stage, and to get those foolish love letters back. Hopefully it won't cost more than a few hundred pounds – after all, Robert only has two thousand pounds of his own, surely that girl can't sue him for more than half of that at the very most – surely no court would order a large sum of money against a young man of modest means. But then they know that his mother is rich, so there is the risk that … anyway Mother has authorized the lawyer to settle the matter as quickly as he could, and to negotiate for the return of those foolish letters – we hope that it won't cost more than a few hundred pounds, but between ourselves, Mother is willing to pay as much as a thousand pounds if necessary to settle the whole thing."

Edward said slowly, "So Robert has broken off the engagement?"

"Mother made him write a letter to that girl at once, stating that it is impossible for him to marry her, as he would be reduced to penury, and would be in no position to support a wife, if he continued in that imprudent engagement."

"So it is all over?"

"Yes, it is quite over, except for that matter of how much it's going to cost Mother to pay off that girl and get those letters back. But the whole affair has been such a shock to poor Mother, and to me, too. Why, Robert is such a fashionable young man, with such elegant taste we all thought, I'm sure I never thought that anybody but a fashionable young lady would captivate him, and since Mother has intended that he would share in the family fortune and won't be like most younger sons, I've sometimes even thought that he might possibly marry better than you … you know that I don't mean anything against you, my dear Edward, and you have never objected to Mother's plan for the family fortune to be shared with your brother -- but you're sometimes so quiet and diffident that I could not help fearing that … but it was not your fault that you failed to win the Hon Miss Morton last year, of course you did not stand a chance once Mr Grey had stepped in with his fifty thousand pounds. And Mother could not have settled fifty thousand pounds on you without greatly reducing Robert's intended share – but if we had known about his secret engagement then -- anyway it's much too late to think what we might have done to help win Miss Morton now that she's Mrs Grey. I often wondered why Robert failed to win that Miss Crawford and could have lost her to a clergyman – but now I realize that he was not really trying to win her since he was entangled to that Steele girl at that time. Anyway, Mother and I hope that you will soon settle down to a respectable match – Miss Dashwood has quite a respectable portion after all, and her brother is a landed gentleman. Thomas said before he left for Somersetshire that it would be unfortunate if you let Miss Dashwood slip through your fingers, and some other gentleman marry her instead. Mother has also instructed her lawyer about settling some income on you at once – she is settling some funds to bring up your income to a thousand a year, so that your marriage need not be long delayed – and hopefully the Dashwoods will also increase Miss Dashwood's dowry once they know that you have a thousand a year, but even if they don't – they have promised her a dowry of six thousand pounds, and while it is not a great sum of money, it is quite a respectable portion after all."

Edward stared at his sister – he had not expected such a sudden improvement in his fortune. But he could not quite rejoice in it – he could not feel easy in his mind about a turn of events in his favour that was a consequence of his brother's unfortunate affair. It was wrong of Robert to have formed a clandestine engagement, but it was also not quite right to abandon the girl – especially after three long years! Of course, Robert could hardly be blamed for agreeing to break off the engagement, not after such threats of penury were made to him. Edward could not help wondering how he himself might have acted in similar circumstances – the honourable thing would have been to have the courage to stand by the girl he had pledged himself to – but he could not blame his brother for being weak enough to have given in to his mother's threats. Perhaps if he had not been absent when all this broke out – he could have assured Robert of his support and assistance. If Thomas had not been away, he might just possibly have restrained Fanny's reaction and might have broken the news and presented the matter in a different way to Mrs Ferrars, though of course, his mother would naturally have been displeased with such an engagement.

Edward need not have worried about Robert – when he saw his brother, Robert did not present the appearance of an unhappy young man who had been forced to give up the woman he loved. When Edward began to express his concern and sympathy over the unfortunate affair, and his regret that he himself had been out of town on that very day of the disclosure and thus was unable to give any assistance or support to his younger brother during the confrontation with his mother and sister, Robert thanked him for the thought, but assured him that it was quite all right, that on thinking over his youthful engagement, he realized that he had perhaps made a fool of himself three years ago when he had proposed marriage to Miss Lucy Steele. She was certainly pretty, and rather clever, with an air of smartness which gave her an appearance of elegance, and she was a pleasant companion who could talk quite amusingly on many things. However, there were many other girls who were also pretty, smart, pleasant and amusing – he had been rather inexperienced three years ago, but now he had met many pretty and fashionable girls in society, who were much better connected than poor Lucy, and who possessed respectable dowries, which would made them much more acceptable to his mother.

If Edward had been shocked by his mother's threats against Robert's engagement, he was almost equally shocked by Robert's attitude – when his sister had told him that Robert had become quite "reasonable" and agreed to break off the engagement, he had imagined that Robert must have done so with great reluctance, and after a great struggle with his conscience and his honour as well as his inclination. He personally had not thought much of the Miss Steeles – Lucy was not elegant, and her elder sister not even genteel – he had also observed a want of delicacy, of rectitude and integrity of mind, which their attentions, assiduities and flatteries to his sister had betrayed. But if Robert had formed a solemn engagement with Miss Lucy Steele for three whole years, Edward could not help thinking that it was rather unprincipled and dishonourable to cast her aside without a struggle. He began to suspect that Robert might have been regretting his imprudent, youthful engagement – and what must be the state of the person by whom his family opposition, threats and unkindness could be felt as a relief!

After a silence of several moments, Edward then said: "But what about the situation of the poor girl, Robert? She had placed herself in a situation of some inconvenience and difficulty by becoming privately engaged to you for three whole years – and it might even be said that Fanny, by her encouragement and attentions to the Miss Steeles, had given her reason to think that she would not be adverse to such a match – and then to be rudely turned out of the house by her hostess, and so suddenly cast aside!"

"Of course, poor Lucy is in a very unfortunate situation right now, but I hope the lawyer will soon arrange some reasonable compensation for her. I've told Mother about my love letters to her, which clearly refer to our engagement, and I wouldn't have a leg to stand upon in court, if Lucy or her uncle were to bring a suit for breach of promise of marriage against me – so Mother has instructed her lawyer to negotiate a settlement out of court, and to get those letters back. Mother is hoping that it won't cost too much, but she's willing to pay as much as one thousand pounds, and one thousand pounds would certainly be a respectable dowry for someone in the Miss Steeles' station of life."

Edward said no more; there was nothing more to be said by him. Privately, he felt quite disgusted with everybody involved in that affair – his mother and sister for their pride and arrogance, and Robert for his carelessness – his double carelessness – for it was very imprudent and careless of him to have formed that secret engagement in the first place, and it was also careless and unfeeling of him now to repudiate that engagement so lightly. Edward's chief consolation for his relatives' unkind and unprincipled conduct towards Miss Lucy Steele was his observation on the Miss Steeles' own lack of delicacy, of sincerity and integrity. How different the Miss Steeles were from the Miss Dashwoods! Miss Dashwood in particular was such a superior young lady – and he could have no doubt as to her rectitude, her delicacy and her integrity, as well as her elegance and accomplishments.

Had Robert and Lucy been different – had they been persons of integrity and sincerity who truly loved each other – Edward would have given them every assistance in his power. He would even have offered to share his newly settled income of a thousand a year with them, for he had not thought it quite fair that he might be profiting from his brother's misfortune. But now he perceived that there was no need for him to make such an offer. Robert would hardly thank him for it, but was more likely to remind him that if Edward attempted to promote the marriage with Lucy, their mother would be so incensed with both her sons that she might settle all the rest of the family fortune on Fanny and her little boy.

Such were some of the thoughts in Edward's mind when he presented himself at Harley Street on a call to the Dashwoods on the day after the uproar in his family.

In the meantime, the eldest Mr Bertram was also thinking of the eldest Miss Dashwood. It was not that he had fallen in love with her at first sight, but he did think that she was a very attractive and amiable young lady, and he would rather like to further his acquaintance with her after that supper party. He was also thinking that although he was the eldest, he was the only one of his father's children who was still unmarried; his younger brother and sisters were all married and settled. Perhaps it was time for him to be thinking of marriage, and to find an attractive, amiable and intelligent young lady who would be a pleasant companion and also capable of assisting him with his responsibilities relating to the Mansfield estate – he had come to take his duties on the estate rather seriously and was thinking that the future Lady Bertram should be an active, useful and benevolent lady who would also be the active patroness of the surrounding village. He spoke with quite warm admiration of Miss Dashwood to his brother and sister-in-law after that night's party, and they agreed that she was an admirable young lady, but cautioned him that from what they had heard from her mother and sister-in-law, she might already be almost engaged to Mr Edward Ferrars.

Part 12 -- Thoughts on Matrimony

Posted on 2009-03-15

"When two sympathetic hearts meet in the marriage state, matrimony may be called a happy life … but … When convenience, and fair appearance, joined to folly and ill humour, forge the fetters of matrimony, they gall with their weight the married pair."
[Anhalt to Amelia in Lovers' Vows, Act III, Scene II]

Sir Thomas Bertram of Mansfield Park was an advocate for early marriages, where there were means in proportion, and would have every young man, with a sufficient income, settle as soon after four and twenty as he could – he believed matrimony to have a steadying influence upon young people. That was so much his opinion, that he had been sorry to think how little likely his eldest son was to marry early. Tom Bertram had been careless and extravagant, and had once given him great uneasiness – at the age of seventeen or eighteen, Tom Bertram had entered into life, full of spirits, and with all the liberal dispositions of an eldest son, with the prospects of an entailed property, who felt born only for expense and enjoyment. Tom's extravagance had, by the time he reached the age of three and twenty, been so great, that Sir Thomas had been driven, by the urgency of Tom's debts, to the expedient of disposing of the next presentation of the Mansfield living to Dr Grant, in return for a consideration, instead of holding it for Edmund to receive as soon as he was old enough for orders. While the other living at Thornton Lacey was definitely held for Edmund, and though that circumstance had made the arrangement somewhat easier to Sir Thomas' conscience, he could not but feel it to be an act of injustice, and had earnestly tried to impress his eldest son with the same conviction, by pointing out to Tom that:
"You have robbed Edmund for ten, twenty, thirty years, perhaps for life, of more than half the income which ought to be his. It may hereafter be in my power, or in yours' (I hope it will), to procure him better preferment; but it must not be forgotten, that no benefit of that sort would be beyond his natural claims on us, and that nothing can, in fact, be an equivalent for the certain advantage which he is now obliged to forgo through the urgency of your debts."

Tom had then listened with some shame and some sorrow, but had soon soothed his conscience and consoled himself with some selfish reflections, such as that he had not been half so much in debt as some of his friends, and that the incumbent of the Mansfield living – being "a short-necked, apoplectic sort of fellow who was over-fond of eating rich, good food" -- might, in all probability, die very soon, thus allowing Edmund to gain possession of it before very long. It was not until after Tom's own serious illness more than three years later, that he had begun to seriously reflect and regret the selfishness, idleness and extravagance of his former lifestyle – especially as the high fever and hectic symptoms that had seriously alarmed the Bertrams had been partly brought about and aggravated by his own folly and heavy drinking. He had plenty of time for serious reflections during his convalescence, and had also been greatly touched by Edmund's undoubted care, affectionate concern and patient attentions to him – unlike some other younger brothers of his acquaintances, whom he suspected might not be completely grief stricken if their eldest brothers were to die and leave them to step into their shoes.

Sir Thomas' concerns for Edmund's future provision had actually been greatly eased by Edmund's marriage to a young lady of twenty thousand pounds. Not that Sir Thomas wanted any of his children to marry for mercenary motives, or to sell themselves to a rich spouse simply for the money – he was too principled a man for such baseness -- but when love, friendship and affection, together with every other propriety as to age, manners, understanding and conduct, could be joined to money, such a combination would naturally be very pleasant. Sir Thomas had greatly approved of Edmund's choice of a wife – he had always regarded Mary Crawford as a good-natured, lively and accomplished young lady who fortunately also possessed a dowry of twenty thousand pounds.

Sir Thomas had not been quite so pleased over his daughters' choices; he had rather considerable misgivings about Maria's Rushworth, perhaps if he had not been in the West Indies when that engagement had been formed, he might not have consented to it. Mr Rushworth of Sotherton had twelve thousand a year, but he would not have sacrificed his daughter's happiness to it. Soon after his return to England, upon realizing that Mr Rushworth was an inferior young man – Sir Thomas had not expected a genius as a son-in-law, but had thought to find a well-judging, steady young man who would not be deficient in understanding – and upon observing Maria's careless indifference to her betrothed, he had offered to act to release her from the engagement, thinking that Mr Rushworth had been accepted on too short an acquaintance, and that on knowing him better, she was repenting. But Maria had assured her father that she had no wish to break off her engagement, and Sir Thomas had perhaps been too glad to be satisfied by her assurances, to urge the matter quite so far as his judgment might have dictated to others. It was an alliance that he could not have relinquished without pain; and thus he reasoned. Mr Rushworth was young enough to improve – Mr Rushworth must and would improve in good society; and if Maria could speak so securely of her happiness with him, speaking certainly without the prejudice, the blindness of love, she ought to be believed. Her feelings, probably, were not strong, and if she could dispense with seeing her husband a leading, shining character, there would certainly be everything in her favour. A well-disposed young woman, who did not marry for love, was in general but the more attached to her own family, and the nearness of Sotherton to Mansfield must naturally hold out the greatest temptation, and would, in all probability, be a continual supply of the most amiable and innocent enjoyments. Such and such-like had been the reasonings of Sir Thomas as to his eldest daughter's marriage – relieved to escape the embarrassing evils of a rupture of such a long-standing, public engagement, the wonder, the reflections, the reproach and the gossip that would have been caused by it – though he had felt it to be his duty to assure his daughter that every inconvenience should be braved, and the connection entirely given up, if she felt herself unhappy in the prospect of it.

Sir Thomas had not been very pleased by Julia's choice of the Hon John Yates either – he had formed an unfavourable first impression of Mr Yates as a trifling, idle and expensive young man -- but at least Mr Yates had not been as deficient in understanding as Mr Rushworth, and had expressed himself quite like a sensible man when applying for the consent to marry Julia. Mr Yates was desirous of being really received into the family, and was disposed to look up to Sir Thomas and be guided. He was not very solid, but there was hope of his becoming less trifling – of matrimony being a steadying influence upon him, and of his being at least tolerably domestic and quiet, and there was also the comfort of finding his estate rather more, and his debts much less, than he had thought.

His niece Fanny, who he felt was almost like a third daughter to him, was most satisfactorily married – after first astonishing her uncle by her initial refusal of Mr Crawford. However, Edmund had explained to his father – Edmund himself had not been so surprised at her initial refusal – because, so far from supposing her to consider Crawford with anything like a preference, he had always believed her to be rather the reverse, and could imagine her to have been taken perfectly unprepared. The match had every recommendation to him, but he had honoured her for her first refusal under the strength of her then indifference, while hoping and believing that it would be a match at last, and that united by mutual affection, it would appear that their dispositions were well suited to make them blessed in each other. Crawford had been too precipitate and had not given Fanny time to attach herself before proposing marriage to her. Fanny had protested that she and Crawford were very different in their inclinations and ways, but Edmund had believed that while there was a decided difference in tempers – Crawford was lively, Fanny was serious – he was himself convinced that such dissimilarity was not an unfavourable circumstance, as they might complement each other.

Henry Crawford has had great faults, faults of inconsideration and thoughtlessness, and in his eventual success in winning over the affections of Fanny Price, he was likely to be happier than he deserved, but still, as he was, beyond a doubt, really attached to Fanny, and would have the advantage, upon their marriage, of being constantly with her, it may be believed that his character would improve, and acquire from hers the steadiness and delicacy of principle that it lacked. With such a woman he would have a chance, and for her sake, whose happiness would be involved in his good character and conduct, we should certainly wish him well. It was fitting that the fortune should be on his side, for most of the merit had certainly been on hers. There was a likeness in his disposition and his sister's – except that his sister had never been the flirt that he had once been – and also in their destinies – the fair destinies that had connected them to two characters so much superior to their own.

Thus, the only one of Sir Thomas's children who was still unmarried was his eldest son, who had appeared almost to have been reborn after recovering from his illness, he had changed so much in some ways. He had previously spent his time in the country only during the shooting season, and had spent the rest of the year in town and in fashionable watering places, but he was now occupying himself with learning the details of running the Mansfield farms and estate, and had even decided against going to town for the Season, except for a short visit that was connected to some business with the lawyer over certain matters related to the estate. He had become so seriously impressed by the evils of his former way of life; that he had resolved to avoid the temptations of the town, and to spend most of his time in the country, immersed in the usual pursuits of an active country gentleman – the occupations being those of farming, and breeding horses and cattle, diversified by some hunting and shooting in the appropriate season. Tom Bertram had become quite contented with his life at Mansfield, except for some occasional irritations caused by the continual presence and tiresome interfering busyness of his Aunt Norris – and he was not alone in suffering these little irritations – Sir Thomas' own opinion of his sister-in-law had been sinking from the day of his return from the West Indies; in every transaction together from that period, in their daily intercourse, and in business. She had been regularly losing ground in her brother-in-law's esteem, and convincing him that either time had done her much disservice, or that that he had considerably over-rated her sense, and wonderfully borne with her manners before. But she appeared to be so much a part of Mansfield that it seemed that the Bertrams must put up with her for the duration of her life. Due to Lady Bertram's indolence, her sister Mrs Norris had become the virtual mistress of the Mansfield household. It did occur to Tom, that if he married a well-bred, amiable, sensible, intelligent and capable young lady, his wife would be able to take over much of Mrs Norris' self-imposed business at Mansfield. In the meantime, the presence of his active and helpful cousin Susan was a cheerful comfort to him as well as to his parents. Susan, with her cheerful disposition, was livelier and more fearless than her elder sister Fanny, and so, in spite of the difference in their ages – she had only reached the age of fifteen, and he was twenty seven -- Tom noticed her rather more than he had ever noticed his cousin Fanny.

Tom Bertram had previously been acquainted with Mr John Dashwood, and as he was thinking that he would like to further his acquaintance with the eldest Miss Dashwood, he decided to call on the Dashwoods on the following day. Miss Dashwood had appeared to be an intelligent young lady; her observations on the play that they had watched together at the theater had been just and sensible, quite unlike the observations of her younger sister, Miss Marianne, whose views would appear to be overly romantic. Tom did not want an overly romantic young lady as the future Lady Bertram, he wanted an intelligent, amiable and sensible young lady who would be a comfortable and rational companion and useful helpmeet.

Accordingly, Mr Bertram had called on Harley Street that day, but when he was shown into the drawing room, he found that Mr Edward Ferrars was also there, sitting on a seat next to Miss Dashwood. Tom remembered that Edmund and Mary had cautioned him that Miss Dashwood might be on the brink of announcing her engagement to Mr Ferrars, and he felt mildly disappointed by this apparent confirmation. However, as he had only felt some initial attraction to her and did not really know her but was thinking of furthering their acquaintance with a view of getting to know her better to see whether they might suit each other, he could certainly endure his disappointment, and greeted Mr Ferrars with perfect civility. An acute observer might have noticed that Edward Ferrars was feeling embarrassed and ill at ease, but Tom Bertram was not a very acute observer.

Edward was certainly feeling embarrassed as he had just been relating about the disgraceful uproar that had recently taken place in his family – he had felt ashamed of his mother's and sister's unkind and insolent behaviour, and he had not been proud of his brother's careless attitude either – though at least, some excuse might be made for Robert's weakness, and would be quite believable by those who had not seen the carefree Robert soon after the incident. The amiable Mrs John Dashwood had questioned him eagerly over the incident – like her mother, Mrs Jennings, the warm-hearted Charlotte Dashwood was not someone who would be restrained by the more common forms of politeness in talking over such an affair. Edward had told them that he himself had not been there when the discovery was made, and that by the time he returned home, it was all over. He blushed for his relatives, but he only said that Mrs Ferrars had been "very upset" by Robert's secret engagement, and had insisted that it must be broken off. As Robert was financially dependent on his mother, he had to break off his engagement, for he was not in a position to get married without his mother's consent and support. He was very sorry for poor Miss Lucy Steele, but the Ferrars lawyer had been instructed to arrange some compensation for her, so that she would have a little provision for her possible future establishment.

Charlotte was of course not satisfied by this brief and restrained narrative, and would have liked to question Edward further, but Mrs Dashwood senior and Elinor could see how embarrassed poor Edward was by the whole incident. Mrs Dashwood had whispered to Charlotte to be considerate of Elinor and Edward, and Charlotte had taken it to mean that they should leave Edward and Elinor alone together, perhaps then Edward would be more forthcoming and would relate all the details of the incident to Elinor. So Charlotte had been trying to think of some excuse to get herself, her husband, her mother-in-law and Marianne out of the drawing-room, when the door was opened and another caller, Mr Thomas Bertram, was announced.

Edward had become so embarrassed by Mrs John Dashwood's questioning that he was almost relieved to see another caller, even though there might be less likelihood for him to have some private conversation with Elinor. In any case, he felt that that day was not quite the most appropriate moment to make his own declaration of love and proposal of marriage – not when they had just been talking about his brother's unfortunate private engagement and its termination.

As Mr Bertram perceived that Miss Dashwood was already attached to Mr Ferrars, he did not intend to come between them. He decided that there was no great hurry for him to be thinking of getting married after all. Therefore, he decided not to prolong his stay in town – had Miss Dashwood been unattached, he would have prolonged his stay with a view of furthering his acquaintance with her – but now he felt that he might as well return to Northamptonshire on the original date that he had planned. Before he left town, Tom went to Grey's at Sackville Street, to bespeak a new seal, and while at that jeweler's shop, he noticed a very pretty and very reasonably priced little aquamarine brooch which he thought would be a nice gift to take home to his cousin Susan. He used to make some very pretty presents to his sisters and his cousin Fanny when they were younger – it was almost the only attentions that he had thought of paying to little girls then – but those presents had chiefly consisted of pretty work-boxes and netting-boxes given at different times.

Mrs Rushworth was also thinking of the marriage state – of the fetters of matrimony in her case. How she wished that she had accepted her father's offer to act to release her from her engagement to Mr Rushworth before she had actually married him. At that time she had assured her father that she had no doubt that she would be contented in her marriage with Mr Rushworth – she had been thinking that Sotherton Court and the house in London would be sufficiently powerful compensation and consolation for marriage to a dull man of weak understanding and whom she privately despised. Mr Crawford had first given her a sense of how agreeable it would be to have an amusing and gallant, instead of a heavy and boring, young man as a companion, however Mr Crawford had no serious intentions towards her, and had never meant anything more than a little light-hearted flirtation with a woman whom he considered was already safely engaged to another man. In fact, Henry Crawford had paid attentions to the then engaged Maria partly to avoid raising expectations and speculations concerning him and the then unattached Julia – he had not wished to get entangled or entrapped in any matrimonial scheme that he had suspected was then being possibly concocted between Mrs Grant and Mrs Norris. How ironic it was, thought Maria with a little inward bitter laugh, that Mr Crawford had eventually been caught to venture into the state of matrimony with her shy little mouse of a cousin Fanny! But Mrs Rushworth had become quite indifferent to Mr Crawford, especially since several months ago, she had become intimate with the Alymers, a family of lively, agreeable manners – and probably of morals and discretion to suit -- and the eldest son of the family was a very attractive young man of about her own age, who evidently admired her greatly.

Part 13 – Scandalous

Posted on 2009-03-22

Mrs Jennings thought that it was scandalous the way poor Lucy had been treated by Mrs Palmer and her mother Mrs Ferrars, and was warm in her indignation against those two proud, insolent women. Mrs Jennings did not blame Mr Robert Ferrars for not standing by his engagement, she was also quite sorry for the poor young man, she assumed that he was a rather weak young man who did not dare to defy his horrible mother, after all he was completely dependent on her, and would be quite unable to support a wife if his most unamiable mother were to disown him. Perhaps a more spirited and courageous young man would have refused to give up the girl he loved, in spite of the threat of being cut off from his inheritance, and would have entered into some profession to earn his own living and support a wife and family, but it was rather too much to expect such a sacrifice to be made by a fashionable young man who had been accustomed to an easy life – unless he was of exceptionally strong character, with sterling qualities, and Mrs Jennings could readily suppose that Mr Robert did not possess such sterling qualities.

Mrs Jennings had gone to visit the Miss Steeles at Bartlett's Buildings, and Lucy had wept prettily on her shoulder. As for the eldest Miss Steele, poor Anne was much to blame for what she did, but she did it for the best, and Lucy said that she would say nothing about it. Lucy claimed that her duty would not have allowed her to hold poor dear Robert to the engagement for prudence's sake, and she would have released him from the engagement without taking a penny and certainly without suing him in court – for of course not all the money in the world could have made up for a broken heart – but when the Ferrars lawyer had offered to pay a thousand pounds for the return of Robert's letters, in order to avoid a possible suit for breach of promise, her uncle had insisted that the money should be accepted. After all, her uncle had pointed out that it was not Robert's money, but that of his rich and insolent mother, and it was only right that she should be made to pay something for her pride and insolence.

Mrs Jennings gave vent to a very spirited critique upon Mrs Ferrars and her daughter Mrs Palmer, and pitied those two poor young men who were dependent upon such a mother, and with having such a sister too. Mrs Jennings was anxious to do all she could to comfort and support poor Lucy, and poor Nancy too, and the idea came into her head to invite the two Miss Steeles to come and live with her. During the past year, apart from making some visits to her other relatives and friends, including to her daughter Charlotte at Norland, she had been spending the greatest portion of her time at Barton Park, Sir John had urged her to regard it as her home, and indeed, he had come to consider his mother-in-law as particularly belonging to Barton. Mrs Jennings was quite happy and comfortable there, especially since she got along so well with her eldest son-in-law, although the thought had occurred to her that, if Barton were to be her home, she would rather like to have a little place of her own there, even though she would of course be spending most of her time at the Park. There was a comfortable small house, Barton Cottage, about half a mile from the Park, which had previously been rented by the Carey family, but had been vacant since the Careys had moved into their own house in the neighbourhood once it had been ready for them a few months ago. It was the same cottage that Mrs Jennings had previously thought could be made comfortable for Lucy and Robert if they were going to get married, now it struck her that she could make it her own settled home, and invite her young Steele cousins to stay with her there for as long as they liked.

When Mrs Jennings spoke of her idea about Barton Cottage and the Miss Steeles to her son-in-law and her daughter, Sir John was most happy to agree to the plan and to promote it as best as he could. To have his wife's third cousins, as well as his mother-in-law, to reside at Barton would be a matter of joy to him, and from almost every point of view, he was charmed at the thought of having his cottage at Barton inhabited by them, especially as they would no doubt be spending a great deal of the time at the Park.

Lady Middleton privately did not completely blame Mrs Ferrars and Mrs Palmer for insisting that the private engagement between Robert Ferrars and Lucy Steele should be broken off. Quite apart from her own particular friendship with Mrs Palmer, Lady Middleton could not help thinking that if she herself had a younger brother, she would not have liked him to be married to a girl in her poor cousin Lucy's circumstances. Fortunately Lady Middleton did not have a brother, so it was quite safe to have Lucy near her. Of course, Lucy was a dear girl, and so good with the children, and it was a great pity that she should be made unhappy, but she should not have consented to a private engagement in the first place. It was rather awkward at the moment for Lady Middleton and Mrs Palmer to continue with their intimate friendship, with Mrs Jennings, Sir John and even Mrs Charlotte Dashwood, in such indignation over the admittedly rude treatment that Lucy had received at Hanover Square once her engagement had been disclosed, but Lady Middleton did not intend to completely drop the acquaintance. As she pointed out to Sir John, it would not do to quarrel with his friend Mr Palmer, who had been at Cleveland when it happened, and had nothing to do with the breaking up of that engagement. Perhaps in time, when things calmed down and poor Lucy would have recovered from her disappointment, they could resume their acquaintance. Lady Middleton would also be happy to have the Miss Steeles at Barton Cottage, it was at such a convenient distance from Barton Park, and Anne and Lucy could easily come to be with the children almost every day. Lady Middleton believed that by helping to look after the Middleton children and playing with them, Lucy would soon forget about Robert Ferrars and recover from her disappointment.

Therefore, the joint invitation by Sir John and Lady Middleton, as well as Mrs Jennings, was soon made to the Miss Steeles, to urge them to make their home with Mrs Jennings at Barton Cottage for as long as they liked.

As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact, but as a cottage it was defective, for the building was regular, the roof was tiled, the window-shutters were not painted green, nor were the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly through the house into the garden behind. On each side of the entrance was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square, and beyond them were the offices and the stairs. Four bedrooms and two garrets formed the rest of the house. It had not been build many years, and was in good repair. When young Mr and Mrs Carey had first occupied it, and before they had decided on building a house of their own nearby, they had thought that the cottage could easily be extended and improved – that one of the parlours could be widened by throwing the passage and a part of the other parlour into it, leaving the remainder of that other parlour as an entrance, and adding a new drawing room and a bed chamber and garret above.

The Miss Steeles were only too happy to accept the kind invitation of Mrs Jennings and the Middletons, and plans were made for them to accompany Mrs Jennings when she would be leaving town to travel to Devonshire in a few weeks' time.

Marianne and Eliza Willoughby had been faithfully corresponding with each other ever since Eliza's marriage; and Marianne now received the news that the young Mrs Willoughby was already in a delicate condition and expecting her first child before the end of the year. Eliza had also been made aware of the Dashwoods' acquaintance with the Crawfords and the Bertrams, and of her own physical resemblance to her unknown cousin, Mrs Bertram, nee Crawford. Eliza agreed with Colonel Brandon that she did not need Admiral Crawford in her life, but Willoughby was thinking that there could be no harm, and possibly some good, if Admiral Crawford were to acknowledge his natural daughter.

To do the Admiral justice – although he had rather quickly forgotten Eliza's mother, and omitted to give her the directions as to the means of communicating with him when he had left her – after Colonel Brandon had traced him and later informed him that the unfortunate Eliza Brandon had given birth to his child and had been reduced to the extremest indigence, the then Captain Crawford had offered to contribute a small allowance for the child's support, but he had not wished to be personally involved in the child's upbringing. Brandon had had no difficulty in refusing that half-hearted offer, and Crawford considered that he had done his duty by making that offer; he had no interest in his natural child, although it might have been different if it were a boy instead of a girl, for he longed to have a son. The Admiral never had any children with his querulous wife, but when he had become the guardian of his late brother's son and daughter, he had delighted in his nephew, and neglected his niece, who, however, had been doted upon by her aunt.

The Bertrams and the Crawfords were not staying in town much longer. Tom Bertram decided that there was nothing worth him staying for, once he believed that the charming Miss Dashwood was already attached to Mr Ferrars, and Edmund Bertram did not like to leave the parish of Thornton Lacey too long under the sole charge of his curate. Mrs Edmund might not have minded prolonging her stay in town with her brother and sister-in-law, but she could not bear to stay behind her husband, and anyway, Henry and Fanny Crawford were not staying in town for many more weeks longer either, then they would be paying a visit to Northamptonshire before returning to Norfolk.

Mary hoped that she and Edmund would be regularly invited to stay in town with Henry and Fanny; she believed that the four of them could form a charming quartet through life together, and of course, such regular invitations would ensure that Edmund need not be put to the expense of having to hire lodgings for them to have a few weeks of annual enjoyment in town. It was a good thing that her brother was married to her husband's cousin; a strange woman who was a fashionable lady in society might not be so welcoming towards her husband's sister and brother-in-law. As it was, Mary also fancied that she was being quite useful to Fanny, who was rather diffident and so unused to society before her marriage. Mary's "usefulness" to Fanny had, in fact been noticed by both their husbands, and also by some of their friends who had observed that Mrs Bertram had appeared to be more in charge of her brother's household. Henry and Edmund had gently hinted to both Mary and Fanny; that Fanny must learn to manage more on her own, she had in fact managed very well at Everingham, but her former diffidence and nervousness had returned in London, for she could not help feeling rather awkward and ill at ease in London society.

Mr Rushworth had returned to town from Bath with his mother, thus putting an end to his wife's holidays away from him. Mr Rushworth and his mother had arrived in London not many days before the Bertrams were due to return to Northamptonshire, so the Bertrams only had time to call at Wimpole Street to pay their respects to Mrs Rushworth senior, without having further opportunities either to observe how their sister and her mother-in-law would get along with each other while living in the same house, or to observe their sister's relationship with her husband.

Very soon after the Bertrams' return to Northamptonshire, Mr Rushworth was rendered evidently uneasy by his wife's friendship with the gallant Mr Alymer. He did not quite know what to do about it, he wished that his wife's brothers were still in town so that he could have consulted them and asked their advice, and sought their influence with his wife, as it was, his wife's nearest relations who were in town were her sister and brother-in-law, the Yates, and her cousins, the Crawfords. Accordingly, Mr Rushworth had confided his uneasiness to the Yates. Mr Yates, who had been accustomed to the fashionable world, was inclined not to take a serious view of the matter, in his world, light hearted flirtations often took place even among married people, or especially among married people, without meaning anything at all, and he said what he could to reassure Mr Rushworth about the manners of men and women of the world. Julia however, was not quite as accustomed to the fashionable world as her husband, moreover she knew her sister better than most, and suspected Maria of having stronger feelings than most people were aware of. When Maria had married Rushworth, a state of indifference had been the most favourable state that her feelings could have been in, although she had thought that his wealth would be sufficient consolation for marriage with a man whom she despised. Julia's views on matrimony were slightly modified compared to her sister's, for while Julia believed that wealth and consequence might be sufficient compensation for marriage with a man who was indifferent to her, provided that there was no actual dislike, she did not think that it could ever be sufficient consolation for marriage with a man who she actually disliked and despised.

So Julia was inclined to take Mr Rushworth's uneasiness rather more seriously than her husband, and as her brothers had left town, the only person she could confide in was her cousin Fanny. Fanny was not at all inclined to make light of the matter, in any case, the purity of her mind, and the excellence of her principles, would not have allowed her to look upon flirtations with married women without censure. But she did not know what to do about such an awkward situation; surely it would be presumptuous of her to attempt to advice her cousin Maria. But if Julia wished to advise her sister, Fanny would certainly support her.

Julia and Fanny then called on Maria, and Julia spoke, in a light-hearted manner, of how unfortunate and damaging some gossip could be, that somebody like Maria herself, married to a rich man like Mr Rushworth, and becoming a leader in the fashionable world, was no doubt more exposed to gossip and comments, than other ladies in rather more modest circumstances. There were some unpleasant comments about Maria's friendship was Mr Alymer, merely because he had been in the habit of acting as her escort during her husband's absence in Bath. Julia had chosen to adopt a light hearted manner in approaching the delicate subject, and had Maria responded in kind, Julia might have been sufficiently reassured, although Fanny might still have been uneasy and distressed. However, Maria had not responded in kind, instead, she had become agitated and angry, so that Julia was not reassured, and Fanny's distress and uneasiness was increased.

Julia wished that her brothers were in town, perhaps Maria would be more inclined to be influenced by her elder brothers than by her younger sister and cousin. Even Mr Yates became inclined to think that there might be cause for concern, for both he and Mr Crawford had now heard that some of their acquaintances at the club were also commenting on Mr Alymer's attentions to Mrs Rushworth, but neither of them knew how to deal with the situation. Fanny also thought that Maria's brothers, especially Edmund, would be the most proper persons to advise and help to deal with the uncomfortable situation of the Rushworths' marriage. As Fanny and Henry were soon to visit Mansfield, it was decided that the Bertram brothers should be informed of the unhappy state of the Rushworths' marriage, and Julia wrote a letter to be delivered by Fanny to Tom and Edmund.

Fanny and Henry were warmly welcomed at Mansfield, it was their first visit there as a married couple. Fanny took the first opportunity to deliver Julia's letter to her brothers, hoping that the awkward situation regarding the Rushworths would be sufficiently explained to them.

Tom and Edmund consulted each other, and agreed that they should go to London and see what they could do about the Rushworths. Edmund wondered that he had not previously noticed Maria's unhappiness in her marriage when he had been in town, but then he had not often visited the Rushworths' house, except to go to their parties, for it was mortifying for him to be with Rushworth as a brother. But the very fact that it had been mortifying for him to be with Rushworth as a brother should perhaps have made him realize that it must have been mortifying for Maria to be with Rushworth as her husband. He had assumed that his sister's feelings were not strong, and that she had married Rushworth because she was not romantic and did not look for tenderer passions in marriage.

At about this time, Sir Thomas suddenly announced that he himself would be obliged to go to London on some business. Sir Thomas had in fact received a letter from an old and most particular friend in London, who seeing and hearing a great deal to alarm him about the matrimonial situation at Wimpole Street, wrote to recommend Sir Thomas coming to London himself, and using his influence with his daughter, to put an end to an intimacy which was already exposing her to unpleasant remarks, and evidently making Mr Rushworth uneasy. Sir Thomas did not wish to communicate the contents of this letter to everybody at Mansfield, but since Fanny had just arrived from town, and Edmund also had been staying for several weeks with the Crawfords, he did ask them if they had noticed anything about the Rushworths' marriage while they themselves were in London. So everything was told to Sir Thomas, Julia's letter to her brothers was also shown to her father, and Sir Thomas decided that he must indeed go to London as soon as possible to deal with the situation.

However, before Sir Thomas had started out on his journey, another letter, sent express by the Yates, arrived at Mansfield, to break to them the almost desperate situation in which affairs then stood with the Rushworths. Maria had left her husband's house, Mr Rushworth had been in great anger and distress to the Yates, and even Mr Yates feared that there had been at least, very flagrant indiscretion. The maidservant of Mrs Rushworth senior, threatened alarmingly. The Yates were doing all they could to quiet every thing, in the hope of Maria's return, but were so much counteracted in Wimpole Street by the influence of Mr Rushworth's mother, that the worst consequences of a scandal might be apprehended.

Part 14 -- Consequences

Posted on 2009-03-28

The dreadful communication about the Rushworths could not be kept from the rest of the family. Sir Thomas set off to town accompanied by both his sons and his nephew-in-law, and the female members of the family – Lady Bertram, Mrs Norris, Mary, Fanny and Susan – were left together in a state of wretchedness at Mansfield, inferior only to what followed the receipt of the next letters from London. Everything was by that time public beyond a hope. The servant of Mrs Rushworth, the mother, had exposure in her power, and, supported by her mistress, was not to be silenced. The two ladies, even in the short periods that they had been together, had disagreed, and the bitterness of the elder against her daughter-in-law might perhaps arise almost as much from the personal disrespect with which she had herself been treated, as from sensibility for her son.

However that might be, she was unmanageable. But had she been less obstinate, or of less weight with her son, who was always guided by the last speaker, by the person who could get hold of and shut him up, the case would still have been hopeless, for Mrs Rushworth did not appear again, and there was every reason to conclude her to be concealed somewhere with Mr George Alymer, who had quitted his parents' townhouse, as for a journey, on the very day of her absenting herself.

A column appeared in the newspaper, announcing that "it was with infinite concern the newspaper had to announce to the world a matrimonial fracas in the family of Mr R of Wimpole Street; the beautiful Mrs R, who was becoming so brilliant a leader in the fashionable world, having quitted her husband's roof in company with the attractive and alluring Mr A, an intimate friend and associate of Mr R, and it was not known, even to the editor of the newspaper, whither they were gone."

Sir Thomas, however, remained yet a little longer in town, in the hope of discovering, and snatching her from further vice, though all was lost on the side of character. He had seen Alymer's parents, General and Mrs Alymer, and had what was from Sir Thomas' point of view an unsatisfactory and distressing interview with them. The Alymers were worldly people, and were more disposed to deplore the detection rather than the sin – the want of common discretion, of caution – of their son's too open admiration and attentions to Mrs Rushworth – of her putting herself in the power of a servant – of the imprudence which had brought things to extremity, and obliged those two to fly away together.

The Alymers supposed that their son would probably marry Maria once Mr Rushworth had obtained a divorce, since he was quite obviously infatuated and had lost his head over her, he knew his own rights – he was the eldest son, and the main Alymer property was entailed, so it was out of his father's power to prevent him from inheriting that estate – and he also knew his parents' fairly tolerant natures, and that it was highly unlikely that they would distress him during his father's lifetime, by cutting off his allowance, even if they deplored his conduct – that would be a species of revenge to which they would hardly stoop under any circumstances. Mrs Alymer would have been delighted with a marriage alliance with the Bertrams of Mansfield Park, if only George had met Maria before she had been married off to Mr Rushworth. Marriage with a divorced woman would not have been their preferred choice for their son; however, once married, and properly supported by her own family, people of respectability as they were, she might recover her footing in society to a certain degree. They said that in some circles, they knew, she would never be admitted, but with good dinners, and large parties, there would always be those who would be glad of her acquaintance, and there was, undoubtedly, more liberality and candour on those points than there had formerly been.

Sir Thomas could derive little comfort from the possibility of a marriage between a divorced daughter and a man whom he could not think of being otherwise than despicable – his parental solicitude, and high sense of honour and decorum would not allow him to condone the actual sin, or to consider that it would be completely expiated upon the marriage of the guilty pair, or to disregard the wrong that had been committed against the unfortunate Rushworth. He was also filled with self-reproach – he felt that he ought not to have allowed the marriage with Rushworth, that his daughter's sentiments had been sufficiently known to him to render him culpable in authorizing it, that in so doing he had sacrificed the right to the expedient, and been governed by motives of selfishness and worldly wisdom.

Tom was greatly shocked by his sister's misconduct, and the deplorable event strengthened his new-found disgust for the fashionable world and its temptations. It also put him off from the thoughts of venturing into matrimony himself, at least for the time being, and he resolved that if he should ever get married, he would prefer to marry an unworldly woman who would be content to live in the country. He had not completely forgotten his thoughts regarding Miss Dashwood, and he did wonder what the Dashwoods must be thinking of the Rushworth scandal; and what his own situation might have been had he found Miss Dashwood to be unattached and had decided to pursue his courtship of her.

Edmund's upright principles, unsuspicious temper, and genuine strength of feeling also caused him to feel his sister's misconduct very keenly, and his views and feelings were reflected in his letters to his wife, who was staying with the family at Mansfield during this time of crisis in the family. Not so long ago, Mary's views on the matter would have been much like that of the worldly Alymers – that it was an unfortunate affair, but considering its ill consequences only as they were to be braved or overborne by a defiance of decency and impudence in wrong, and accepting a compliance, a compromise, an acquiescence, in the continuance of the sin, on the chance of a possible marriage in the future. But Mary now allowed herself to be guided by the opinions of the man she loved and respected, and she realized that to him, the actual sin was to be deplored even more than its' detection and public scandal. Mary also remembered what her aunt, the late Mrs Crawford, had once told her about her uncle the Admiral's affair with a married woman some years ago, which had subsequently led to that woman's divorce and probable ruin – the wages of sin, as some might say, but in this world as it was, the penalty was less equal than could be wished, for that punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure, attend the man's share of the offence as well as the woman's. But the man could go on with his life and his profession, while the poor woman – Mary found herself wondering what had happened to the woman who had been ruined by her uncle all those years ago. As for the Admiral – Mary thought again how thankful she was that her brother was not following his uncle's bad domestic example, although Henry insisted that he owned his uncle his gratitude and affection, and dear, sweet Fanny, however much she might deplore the Admiral's morals, or lack of morals, agreed with her husband that his uncle's kindness to him as a boy, and perhaps also his interest in advancing her brother Lieutenant William Price's promotion in his career, did entitle the Admiral to their gratitude and attentions..

Henry and Yates allowed themselves to be guided by Sir Thomas regarding the Rushworth scandal – they knew that Sir Thomas took his daughter's misconduct very seriously, and not merely for its disastrous effect on her standing in society, but as a matter of principle itself, and also for introducing such misery into the Rushworth family. Whatever his faults might be, Rushworth was neither a bad man nor a cruel man – he was a heavy young man of dull or weak understanding, but there was nothing against the morality of his own character. Maria had chosen to marry Rushworth with her eyes opened, even after her father had offered to act to release her from her engagement; she had been motivated by selfish, mercenary motives alone, and had then failed to at least keep up her side of the bargain and do her duty in such a marriage – by giving her fidelity to her husband, even if she could not give him her respect or affection.

During that wretched time, the miserable state of the group of women left at Mansfield, were further aggravated by Mrs Norris' attitude. Lady Bertram did not think deeply, but she had been guided by Sir Thomas to think justly on all important points; and she saw, therefore, in all its enormity, what had happened, and neither endeavoured herself, nor required anybody to advise her, to think little of guilt and infamy. But Mrs Norris' attachment seemed to augment with the demerits of her eldest niece – Maria was her first favourite, the dearest of all, the Rushworth match had been her own contriving, as she had been wont with such pride of heart to feel and say, and this conclusion of it almost overpowered her. At first she had been an altered creature -- quieted, stupefied, indifferent to everything that passed – however, that quiet state had not lasted for long, and she soon regained her energy– not to give support or comfort to anybody else at Mansfield, but to defend her favourite niece and to blame everybody else for the catastrophe of Mrs Rushwoth's elopement.

Mrs Norris' lamentations included such irrational outbursts as this: "If I had been with dear Maria in town, this would not have happened, for the dear girl would not have done such a thing, if she had been properly looked after and attended to. I am sure that there must have been some gross neglect on Rushworth's side, which had driven poor Maria to seek comfort from that Alymer, after all, her husband had left her to be in London on her own for days, while he was dancing attendance on his mother in Bath. And when he brought his mother back to town with him, I am sure that she must have been a most tiresome, interfering mother-in-law, and must have driven poor Maria distracted, so that the poor girl did not know what she was doing when that Alymer persuaded her to go away with him. And what was everybody else who was in town doing; that nobody else saw how unhappy poor Maria was – what were her brothers and sisters and cousins doing, I should like to know. I suppose, Fanny, you were enjoying your great good luck and new position as Mrs Crawford too much to notice or care for poor Maria's unhappiness. I wonder, Mary what you were doing that you and Edmund did not notice anything either – and Julia and Yates also, although I suppose Julia must have been quite occupied with her engagements with the Yates family and friends. But you all neglected poor Maria shamefully, not to have observed how unhappy she was."

Mrs Norris' temper was in such a state of irritation as to make her everywhere tormenting.

Since the Rushworth scandal had become public, all their acquaintances, including the Dashwoods, now knew of Mrs Rushworth's elopement with Mr Alymer, and Marianne regarded that event as further proof of her belief that wealth or grandeur had nothing to do with happiness. Mr Rushworth was a very rich man, but his great wealth could not bring happiness to his wife, of course Mrs Rushworth should have realized that and should not have married him in the first place. Marianne was a romantic in her ideals, but her ideals included high moral principles, and she believed that it was very wrong to marry without love, and to be unfaithful to one's partner.

"After all," said Marianne to her sister, "What have wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?"

"Grandeur has but little," said Elinor, "but wealth has much to do with it."

"Elinor, for shame!" said Marianne, "money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it. Beyond a competence, it can afford no real satisfaction, as far as mere self is concerned."

"Perhaps," said Elinor, smiling, "we may come to the same point. Your competence and my wealth are very much alike, I daresay, and without them, as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas are only more noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?"

"About eighteen hundred to two thousand a year; not more than that."

Elinor laughed "Two thousand a year! One thousand a year is my wealth! I guessed how it would end."

"And yet two thousand a year is a very moderate income," said Marianne. "A family cannot well be maintained on a smaller. I am sure I am not extravagant in my demands. A proper establishment of servants, a carriage, perhaps two, and hunters, cannot be supported on less."

"Why must you have hunters? Not everybody hunts."

"But most people do – even our brother John hunts, although he is not as enthusiastic a sportsman as our cousin Sir John and most of his friends."

Edward Ferrars now had an income which exactly corresponded to Elinor's idea of wealth. He had previously been deterred from openly declaring himself and asking her to marry him because of his lack of independence, and his embarrassment over the attitude of his mother and sister regarding a sufficiently acceptable dowry. Then there had been that uproar over the revelation of his brother Robert's private engagement, and how his mother and sister had insisted that it must be broken off. Edward had been thankful to hear that the Miss Steeles had kind and generous friends to help and comfort them. Mrs Jennings had taken Lucy Steele and her sister under her protection, and was hopeful that she could eventually find another young man for Lucy, at least, once the poor girl recovered from her disappointment.

Edward was at last determined to declare himself to Elinor, but some awkwardness still remained. Even the manner that his mother had finally granted his independence and settled the funds to bring his income up to a thousand a year was embarrassing – it was partly, if not mainly due, to her shock over Robert's meditated imprudence with Lucy Steele. What must her family think of his family! He hoped that they would not judge him by his relatives. It was rather awkward that her amiable, warm-hearted sister-in-law, Mrs Charlotte Dashwood, should be Mrs Jennings' daughter, and a cousin of the Miss Steeles. Would Mr and Mrs John Dashwood welcome as a brother-in-law the man who was the son of the woman who had treated their cousin with great unkindness, and who was the brother of an imprudent young man who had foolishly entered into a private engagement, and was then easily pressured to hastily repudiate it after keeping the girl dangling for three long years?