Miss Marianne subsided, going over to the card-table, where she made a four with Willoughby, Sir John and Mrs Jennings. Willoughby cheated himself to help her, and I found myself thinking that, although for the time being she found such chivalry charming, there would come a time when it would not be enough to hold her attention.



Monday 24 October

Sir John, always in need of diversion, asked me today if we could get up a party to go and see my brother-in-law’s place at Whitwell.

‘If you wish it, yes,’ I said.

‘Capital! This is a treat,’ he said to Mrs Dashwood. ‘Bran don’s brother-in-law is abroad and allows no one to see the house when he is out of the country as a general rule, but he allows Brandon to take friends there.’

‘The grounds are very beautiful,’ said Mary.

‘Indeed they are, and I am a good judge, ma’am, for I have taken parties there twice every summer these past ten years. There’s a lake for sailing — you will enjoy that, eh, Miss Marianne? ’ he asked, turning towards her, and I saw her smile. ‘We will take some cold provisions and ride in open carriages so you ladies can enjoy the view, as long as the weather is fine.’

‘I am doubtful of that,’ said Mrs Dashwood, ‘since it has rained every day for the last fortnight.’

‘All the more reason for it to stop tomorrow,’ said Sir John. ‘There cannot be any more rain up there!’

Mrs Jennings laughed heartily.

‘I am sure it will be fine,’ said Miss Marianne, much taken with the idea. ‘An outing to a great house is, above all things, the one I would enjoy the most.’

‘And I,’ said Willoughby.

‘How good are the roads?’ asked Mrs Dashwood.

‘Very good indeed. It will not take us above an hour and a half to get there, or two, if we admire the views along the way.’

‘I will bring my curricle,’ said Willoughby. He turned to Miss Marianne. ‘I hope you will do me the honour of travelling with me? ’

‘Oh, yes!’ she said.

‘You will come in my carriage, I hope,’ said Sir John to Mrs Dashwood.

‘I am not sure I will be able to join you, for I fear I have a cold coming on,’ she said.

I noticed that she looked pale, and that she held her shawl closely about herself.

Miss Marianne looked dismayed and Miss Dashwood looked concerned.

‘You should stay at home, Mama,’ she said. ‘An outing in this cold weather will do you no good.’

‘I am probably making a fuss about nothing,’ she said. ‘I am sure I will be better by morning.’

‘You must take care of yourself. No need to fear for the young ladies, they will be safe with us,’ said Sir John.

‘Indeed, I think you had better not go, Mama,’ said Miss Dashwood.

‘I will see how I feel tomorrow. But I would not spoil your pleasure, my dears. You will like to see the house, and then you will be able to tell me all about it when you return. Sir John will see that you come to no harm.’

‘No, indeed, ma’am.’

It was settled, then, that we should all assemble at the Park at ten o’clock, where we would have breakfast together before setting out.



Tuesday 25 October

The night was wild, with heavy rain, but it stopped by eight o’clock, and by ten o’clock, when we were all gathered together, the morning was favourable. The clouds were dispersing across the sky, and the sun frequently appeared.

‘You see, I told you it would be fine,’ said Miss Marianne, as we sat down to breakfast.

We were just about to eat when the letters were brought in. I took mine without any real interest, for I was looking forward to the outing, but as soon as I saw the handwriting on the second letter, all thoughts of the outing were driven from my mind, for it was from Eliza! I stood up and immediately left the room, for I knew that I would be unable to disguise my feelings when I read it.

I retired to my chamber where I opened it and scanned it quickly, seeing that it had been written in great agitation.

I have no right to appeal to you, I thought it would be settled by now, I thought we would be married, he said we had only to wait until she died, it could not be more than a few weeks, and then we would be happy. He said she had had a turn for the worse, he said he had to leave but that he would come back for me. He left no address, I asked for none, thinking he would only be gone a short while, but it is months — months! — and my time is near. Help me, please! Oh! I do not deserve it, but I don’t know what to do.

I felt a rush of relief as I read it, for she was alive! But it was mingled with anger at her seducer — for I could no longer doubt what had happened — and sorrow that she had been used so ill, and compassion for her distress. And over it all I felt guilt that I had not looked after her better.

I made my plans quickly. Her address was on the letter. I packed and returned to the dining room.

‘No bad news, Colonel, I hope,’ said Mrs Jennings, as soon as I entered the room.

‘None at all, ma’am, I thank you,’ I said, for I was resolved to protect Eliza’s reputation as far as I was able. ‘It was merely a letter of business.’

‘But how came the hand to discompose you so much, if it was only a letter of business?’ she asked eagerly. ‘Come, come, this won’t do, Colonel; so let us hear the truth of it.’

‘My dear madam,’ said her daughter, ‘recollect what you are saying.’

‘Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin is married?’ said Mrs Jennings, without attending to her daughter’s reproof.

‘No, indeed, it is not.’

‘Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel. And I hope she is well.’

‘Whom do you mean, ma’am? ’ I asked, colouring a little.

‘Oh! you know who I mean.’

I ignored her remark and said briskly to Mary, ‘I am particularly sorry that I should receive this letter today, for it is on business which requires my immediate attendance in town.’

‘In town!’ cried Mrs Jennings. ‘What can you have to do in town at this time of year?’

‘My own loss is great in being obliged to leave so agreeable a party; but I am the more concerned, as I fear my presence is necessary to gain your admittance at Whitwell,’ I said.

I saw their disappointed faces, but it could not be helped.

‘But if you write a note to the housekeeper, will it not be sufficient?’ said Miss Marianne.

I did not like to disappoint her, but I said, ‘I am afraid not.’

‘We must go,’ said Sir John good-humouredly. ‘It shall not be put off when we are so near it. You cannot go to town till tomorrow, Brandon, that is all.’

‘I wish it could be so easily settled. But it is not in my power to delay my journey for one day!’

‘If you would but let us know what your business is,’ said Mrs Jennings, ‘we might see whether it could be put off or not.’

‘You would not be six hours later,’ said Willoughby, ‘if you were to defer your journey till our return.’

‘I cannot afford to lose one hour.’

I heard Willoughby say in a low voice to Miss Marianne, ‘There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of them. He was afraid of catching cold, I dare say, and invented this trick for getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was of his own writing.’

‘I have no doubt of it,’ came her mocking reply.

I was annoyed, because his influence on her was not a good one, but I let them think what they would, for I had to go.

‘There is no persuading you to change your mind, Brandon, I know of old, when once you are determined on anything, ’ said Sir John. ‘But, however, I hope you will think better of it. Consider, here are the two Misses Carey come over from Newton, the three Misses Dashwood walked up from the cottage, and Mr Willoughby got up two hours before his usual time, on purpose to go to Whitwell.’

‘I am sorry to disappoint you all, but I am afraid it is unavoidable. ’

‘Well then, when will you come back again?’

I was about to reply when I was spared the necessity by Mary’s intervention, and I was grateful for her good breeding, which made my going easier.

‘I hope we shall see you at Barton as soon as you can conveniently leave town,’ she said, ‘and we must put off the party to Whitwell till you return.’

I silently thanked her for her kindness, but said that, as I did not know when I would have the power to return, I could not engage for it.

‘Oh! he must and shall come back,’ cried Sir John, with ill-timed jocularity. ‘If he is not here by the end of the week, I shall go after him.’

‘Ay, so do, Sir John,’ cried Mrs Jennings, ‘and then perhaps you may find out what his business is.’

‘I do not want to pry into other men’s concerns. I suppose it is something he is ashamed of,’ he said with a wink.

To my relief, my horse was announced.

‘You do not go to town on horseback, do you?’ asked Sir John in surprise.

‘No, only to Honiton. I shall then go post.’

‘Well, as you are resolved to go, I wish you a good journey. ’

I took my leave, saying to Miss Dashwood, ‘Is there no chance of my seeing you and your sisters in town this winter? ’

‘I am afraid, none at all,’ she replied.

‘Then I must bid you farewell for a longer time than I should wish to do.’

I bowed to Miss Marianne and left the room. As the door closed behind me, I heard Mrs Jennings saying to Miss Dashwood in a low voice, ‘I can guess what his business is, however. It is about Miss Williams, I am sure. She is his natural daughter. ’

I was not surprised to hear her say so, for she had intimated her belief to me in the past, but I wished she would have kept quiet, all the same, the more so because she was wrong in her conjecture.