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mother； to acknowledge the probability of many； and hope for the
justice of all。
They saw nothing of Marianne till dinner time； when she
entered the room and took her place at the table without saying a
word。 Her eyes were red and swollen； and it seemed as if her tears
were even then restrained with difficulty。 She avoided the looks of
them all； could neither eat nor speak； and after some time； on her
mother’s silently pressing her hand with tender compassion； her
small degree of fortitude was quite overcome； she burst into tears
and left the room。
This violent oppression of spirits continued the whole evening。
She was without any power； because she was without any desire of
command over herself。 The slightest mention of anything relative
to Willoughby overpowered her in an instant； and though her
family were most anxiously attentive to her comfort； it was
impossible for them； if they spoke at all； to keep clear of every
subject which her feelings connected with him。
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CHAPTER XVI
arianne would have thought herself very inexcusable
had she been able to sleep at all the first night after
M
parting from Willoughby。 She would have been
ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning； had she
not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay
down in it。 But the feelings which made such composure a
disgrace； left her in no danger of incurring it。 She was awake the
whole night； and she wept the greatest part of it。 She got up with a
headache； was unable to talk； and unwilling to take any
nourishment； giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters；
and forbidding all attempt at consolation from either。 Her
sensibility was potent enough！
When breakfast was over she walked out by herself； and
wandered about the village of Allenham； indulging the recollection
of past enjoyment and crying over the present reverse for the chief
of the morning。
The evening passed off in the equal indulgence of feeling。 She
played over every favourite song that she had been used to play to
Willoughby； every air in which their voices had been oftenest
joined； and sat at the instrument gazing on every line of music that
he had written out for her； till her heart was so heavy that no
farther sadness could be gained； and this nourishment of grief was
every day applied。 She spent whole hours at the pianoforté
alternately singing and crying； her voice often totally suspended
by her tears。 In books too； as well as in music； she courted the
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misery which a contrast between the past and present was certain
of giving。 She read nothing but what they had been used to read
together。
Such violence of affliction indeed could not be supported for
ever； it sunk within a few days into a calmer melancholy； but these
employments； to which she daily recurred； her solitary walks and
silent meditations； still produced occasional effusions of sorrow as
lively as ever。
No letter from Willoughby came； and none seemed expected by
Marianne。 Her mother was surprised； and Elinor again became
uneasy。 But Mrs。 Dashwood could find explanations whenever she
wanted them； which at least satisfied herself。
“Remember； Elinor；” said she； “how very often Sir John fetches
our letters himself from the post； and carries them to it。 We have
already agreed that secrecy may be necessary； and we must
acknowledge that it could not be maintained if their
correspondence were to pass through Sir John’s hands。”
Elinor could not deny the truth of this； and she tried to find in it
a motive sufficient for their silence。 But there was one method so
direct； so simple； and in her opinion so eligible of knowing the real
state of the affair； and of instantly removing all mystery； that she
could not help suggesting it to her mother。
“Why do you not ask Marianne at once；” said she； “whether she
is or she is not engaged to Willoughby？ From you； her mother； and
so kind； so indulgent a mother； the question could not give offence。
It would be the natural result of your affection for her。 She used to
be all unreserve； and to you more especially。”
“I would not ask such a question for the world。 Supposing it
possible that they are not engaged； what distress would not such
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an inquiry inflict！ At any rate it would be most ungenerous。 I
should never deserve her confidence again； after forcing from her
a confession of what is meant at present to be unacknowledged to
any one。 I know Marianne’s heart： I know that she dearly loves
me； and that I shall not be the last to whom the affair is made
known； when circumstances make the revealment of it eligible。 I
would not attempt to force the confidence of any one； of a child
much less； because a sense of duty would prevent the denial which
her wishes might direct。”
Elinor thought this generosity overstrained； considering her
sister’s youth； and urged the matter farther； but in vain； common
sense； common care； common prudence； were all sunk in Mrs。
Dashwood’s romantic delicacy。
It was several days before Willoughby’s name was mentioned
before Marianne by any of her family； Sir John and Mrs。 Jennings；
indeed； were not so nice； their witticisms added pain to many a
painful hour；—but one evening； Mrs。 Dashwood； accidentally
taking up a volume of Shakespeare； exclaimed；
“We have never finished Hamlet； Marianne； our dear
Willoughby went away before we could get through it。 We will put
it by； that when he comes again 。 。 。 But it may be months；
perhaps； before that happens。”
“Months！” cried Marianne； with strong surprise。 “No—nor
many weeks。”
Mrs。 Dashwood was sorry for what she had said； but it gave
Elinor pleasure； as it produced a reply from Marianne so
expressive of confidence in Willoughby and knowledge of his
intentions。
One morning； about a week after his leaving the country；
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Marianne was prevailed on to join her sisters in their usual walk；
instead of wandering away by herself。 Hitherto she had carefully
avoided every companion in her rambles。 If her sisters intended to
walk on the downs； she directly stole away towards the lanes； if
they talked of the valley； she was as speedy in climbing the hills；
and could never be found when the others set off。 But at length
she was secured by the exertions of Elinor； who greatly
disapproved such continual seclusion。 They walked along the road
through the valley； and chiefly in silence； for Marianne’s mind
could not be controlled； and Elinor； satisfied with gaining one
point； would not then attempt more。 Beyond the entrance of the
valley； where the country； though still rich； was less wild and more
open； a long stretch of the road which they had travelled on first
coming to Barton； lay before them； and on reaching that point；
they stopped to look around them； and examine a prospect which
formed the distance of their view from the cottage； from a spot
which they had never h