布兰登上校在庄园的拜访突然中止，又坚不肯说明缘由，这让詹宁斯太太满心疑惑、惊诧了好几天。凡是对自己所有熟人的来来往往都极感兴趣的人，都必定是个爱猜疑的人，而她正是如此。她几乎一刻不停地猜想着原因何在；断定一定有什么坏消息，把可能降临到他头上的种种不幸都想了一遍，却又打定主意绝不放过任何一种可能。
“我敢说，一定是出了什么极伤心的事，”她说，“我从他脸上看得出来。可怜的人！我怕他境况不妙。德拉福的那份产业，一年从没算过两千镑以上，他哥哥留下来时，一切都糟心地纠缠不清。我琢磨他准是为银钱的事被叫回去的，不然还能是什么？不知是不是这样。我无论如何都想打听个明白。说不定是为威廉斯小姐——且说一句，我敢说是的，因为我提起她时，他一脸心虚的样子。也许她在城里病了；天下再没有更可能的事了，因为我觉得她身子骨一向单薄。我拿什么都敢打赌，准是为威廉斯小姐。他如今境况窘迫倒不大像，因为他是个极谨慎的人，到这时候产业总该理清了。不知究竟是什么！也许是他在阿维尼翁的妹妹病重，把他叫了去。他走得那样慌张，倒很像是。唉，我打心眼里盼他脱了所有烦恼，再添个好太太。”
詹宁斯太太就这样猜着，这样说。她每生出一个新揣测，看法就变一变，而每个揣测刚冒出来时，都显得同样有理。埃莉诺虽真心关切布兰登上校的安好，却没法像詹宁斯太太所期望的那样，把全部惊诧都用在“他为何突然离去”上；因为除了她以为此事并不值得如此长久的惊愕与五花八门的揣度外，她的惊诧另有所属。她满心困惑于妹妹和威洛比在此事上异乎寻常的沉默——他们本该明白，这事对大家都是格外有趣的。这沉默一日日持续，显得愈发古怪，也愈发与他二人的性情不合。埃莉诺想不出，他们为何不向母亲和她坦然承认那层关系——他们彼此间一贯的举止早已表明事情已经发生。
她很容易想到，结婚也许不是眼前就能办成的；因为威洛比虽独立，却没理由信他富有。约翰爵士估过他的产业，一年大约六七百镑；可他花销之大，那份收入几乎抵不上，他自己也常诉苦说穷。但这般怪异的 secrecy 关于他们的婚约——其实什么也没瞒住——她却解释不来；这全然违背他们平素的见解与做派，以至她心里偶尔疑起他们是否真订了婚，而这疑虑，已够她不去向玛丽安探问。
威洛比对这一家的情意，再没有比他的举止更表露无遗的了。对玛丽安，那是一个恋人心中能给予的、别具一格的温柔；对家中其余人，则是儿子与兄弟般的亲厚关怀。那座村舍，在他心中似已被认作、并爱作自己的家；他待在那里的时辰，远比在艾伦汉为多；若庄园里没有聚会把他们聚在一处，他早晨出门散步，几乎必定以村舍为终点——余下的一天，他伴在玛丽安身侧，他心爱的猎犬伏在她脚边。
特别有一晚，约在布兰登上校离乡一周后，他的心似比往常更向周遭一切敞开了眷恋；达什伍德太太偶然提起开春要修整村舍，他便热切反对改动这处被深情认作完美的地方。
“什么！”他叫道——“修整这可爱的村舍！不。那我绝不同意。若顾惜我的感情，它的墙一石都不可加，尺寸一寸都不可添。”
“别慌，”达什伍德小姐说，“绝不会动那样的念头；因为我母亲绝拿不出钱来试。”
“那我才真心高兴，”他喊道，“她若只能这么糟蹋钱财，就愿她永远穷下去。”
“谢你，威洛比。可你尽可放心，世上任何修缮，我都绝不肯牺牲你或任何一个我所爱之人的乡土之恋。你放心，开春算账时若还剩闲钱，我宁可无用放着，也不愿这般伤你心地去处置。可你真就眷恋这地方到看不出半点毛病？”
“我是，”他说，“于我它无瑕。不，更甚，我以为它是唯一能容得幸福的建筑形制；若我够富，立时便把库姆府拆了，照这村舍一模一样重盖。”
“带着昏暗窄梯和冒烟的厨房，我猜。”埃莉诺说。
“正是，”他仍以那急切声调叫道，“连带着属于它的一切——无论便利不便，丝毫改动都不可觉出。那时，唯那时，在这般屋顶下，我或许能在库姆如曾在巴顿一般幸福。”
“我自欺慰，”埃莉诺答，“即便吃亏在房间更好、楼梯更宽，你日后终会发现自己家如你现在看这屋一般无瑕。”
“自有些情形，”威洛比道，“能教我极爱它；但这地方永有一桩得我心的凭据，别处绝分不去。”
达什伍德太太欣然望向玛丽安，她那秀目正这样含情凝在威洛比脸上，分明示着她多懂他。
“去岁此时我在艾伦汉，”他接道，“多常盼着巴顿村舍有人住！每次望见，无不为它地势心折，又憾无人居。那时哪想到，下次回乡从史密斯太太处听来的头个信，便是村舍租出了：我立时生出满意与关切，除却一种预感——预感它将予我何等幸福——无从解说。岂非如此，玛丽安？”他放低声对她道。随即续回原调，说，“可这屋子你竟要糟蹋，达什伍德太太？你要以臆想中的修缮，夺它质朴！这间亲爱的起坐间，我们相识于此，此后多少欢时共度，你竟要贬作寻常穿堂，人人急着穿过这屋——而它至今容着的，比世上最阔气尺寸的任一厢房所能给的，都更真切安逸舒适。”
达什伍德太太再向他保证，绝不动此类改动。
“你是好女人，”他热切答，“你应允，我便安心。再应远些，便教我欢喜。告诉我，不只你屋如旧，且我永见你与你的家人，如你居处般不改；你永以这般慈意待我——因它，属你的一切都对我亲。”
应允爽快给出，威洛比整晚的举止，一时尽诉他的情与欢。
“明儿来用饭么？”他辞别时，达什伍德太太说，“早上不邀你，因我们得走去庄园，拜望米德尔顿夫人。”
他应了四点前到他们处。
The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon’s visit at the park, with his
steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised the
wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great
wonderer, as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all
the comings and goings of all their acquaintance. She wondered, with
little intermission what could be the reason of it; was sure there must
be some bad news, and thought over every kind of distress that could
have befallen him, with a fixed determination that he should not escape
them all.
“Something very melancholy must be the matter, I am sure,” said she. “I
could see it in his face. Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may
be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two
thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do
think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can
it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know the
truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare
say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. May be
she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a
notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is about
Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his
circumstances _now_, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must
have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can be! May be
his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting
off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out of all his
trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain.”
So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings. Her opinion varying with every
fresh conjecture, and all seeming equally probable as they arose.
Elinor, though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel
Brandon, could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly away,
which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling; for besides that the
circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting amazement or
variety of speculation, her wonder was otherwise disposed of. It was
engrossed by the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby on
the subject, which they must know to be peculiarly interesting to them
all. As this silence continued, every day made it appear more strange
and more incompatible with the disposition of both. Why they should not
openly acknowledge to her mother and herself, what their constant
behaviour to each other declared to have taken place, Elinor could not
imagine.
She could easily conceive that marriage might not be immediately in
their power; for though Willoughby was independent, there was no reason
to believe him rich. His estate had been rated by Sir John at about six
or seven hundred a year; but he lived at an expense to which that
income could hardly be equal, and he had himself often complained of
his poverty. But for this strange kind of secrecy maintained by them
relative to their engagement, which in fact concealed nothing at all,
she could not account; and it was so wholly contradictory to their
general opinions and practice, that a doubt sometimes entered her mind
of their being really engaged, and this doubt was enough to prevent her
making any inquiry of Marianne.
Nothing could be more expressive of attachment to them all, than
Willoughby’s behaviour. To Marianne it had all the distinguishing
tenderness which a lover’s heart could give, and to the rest of the
family it was the affectionate attention of a son and a brother. The
cottage seemed to be considered and loved by him as his home; many more
of his hours were spent there than at Allenham; and if no general
engagement collected them at the park, the exercise which called him
out in the morning was almost certain of ending there, where the rest
of the day was spent by himself at the side of Marianne, and by his
favourite pointer at her feet.
One evening in particular, about a week after Colonel Brandon left the
country, his heart seemed more than usually open to every feeling of
attachment to the objects around him; and on Mrs. Dashwood’s happening
to mention her design of improving the cottage in the spring, he warmly
opposed every alteration of a place which affection had established as
perfect with him.
“What!” he exclaimed—“Improve this dear cottage! No. _That_ I will
never consent to. Not a stone must be added to its walls, not an inch
to its size, if my feelings are regarded.”
“Do not be alarmed,” said Miss Dashwood, “nothing of the kind will be
done; for my mother will never have money enough to attempt it.”
“I am heartily glad of it,” he cried. “May she always be poor, if she
can employ her riches no better.”
“Thank you, Willoughby. But you may be assured that I would not
sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment of yours, or of any one
whom I loved, for all the improvements in the world. Depend upon it
that whatever unemployed sum may remain, when I make up my accounts in
the spring, I would even rather lay it uselessly by than dispose of it
in a manner so painful to you. But are you really so attached to this
place as to see no defect in it?”
“I am,” said he. “To me it is faultless. Nay, more, I consider it as
the only form of building in which happiness is attainable, and were I
rich enough I would instantly pull Combe down, and build it up again in
the exact plan of this cottage.”
“With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes, I suppose,” said
Elinor.
“Yes,” cried he in the same eager tone, “with all and every thing
belonging to it;—in no one convenience or inconvenience about it,
should the least variation be perceptible. Then, and then only, under
such a roof, I might perhaps be as happy at Combe as I have been at
Barton.”
“I flatter myself,” replied Elinor, “that even under the disadvantage
of better rooms and a broader staircase, you will hereafter find your
own house as faultless as you now do this.”
“There certainly are circumstances,” said Willoughby, “which might
greatly endear it to me; but this place will always have one claim of
my affection, which no other can possibly share.”
Mrs. Dashwood looked with pleasure at Marianne, whose fine eyes were
fixed so expressively on Willoughby, as plainly denoted how well she
understood him.
“How often did I wish,” added he, “when I was at Allenham this time
twelvemonth, that Barton cottage were inhabited! I never passed within
view of it without admiring its situation, and grieving that no one
should live in it. How little did I then think that the very first news
I should hear from Mrs. Smith, when I next came into the country, would
be that Barton cottage was taken: and I felt an immediate satisfaction
and interest in the event, which nothing but a kind of prescience of
what happiness I should experience from it, can account for. Must it
not have been so, Marianne?” speaking to her in a lowered voice. Then
continuing his former tone, he said, “And yet this house you would
spoil, Mrs. Dashwood? You would rob it of its simplicity by imaginary
improvement! and this dear parlour in which our acquaintance first
began, and in which so many happy hours have been since spent by us
together, you would degrade to the condition of a common entrance, and
every body would be eager to pass through the room which has hitherto
contained within itself more real accommodation and comfort than any
other apartment of the handsomest dimensions in the world could
possibly afford.”
Mrs. Dashwood again assured him that no alteration of the kind should
be attempted.
“You are a good woman,” he warmly replied. “Your promise makes me easy.
Extend it a little farther, and it will make me happy. Tell me that not
only your house will remain the same, but that I shall ever find you
and yours as unchanged as your dwelling; and that you will always
consider me with the kindness which has made everything belonging to
you so dear to me.”
The promise was readily given, and Willoughby’s behaviour during the
whole of the evening declared at once his affection and happiness.
“Shall we see you tomorrow to dinner?” said Mrs. Dashwood, when he was
leaving them. “I do not ask you to come in the morning, for we must
walk to the park, to call on Lady Middleton.”
He engaged to be with them by four o’clock.
