Sense and Sensibility / Чувство и чувствительность. Уровень 3. Джейн Остин
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She liked him – in spite of his gravity and reserve, she beheld in him an object of interest. His manners, though serious, were mild. Perhaps she pitied and esteemed him because Willoughby and Marianne undervalued his merits.
“Brandon is just the kind of man,” said Willoughby one day, when they were talking of him together, “whom everybody speaks well of, and nobody cares about.”
“That is exactly what I think of him,” cried Marianne.
“However,” said Elinor, “it is injustice. He is highly esteemed by all the family at the park, and I like to converse with him.”
“That he is patronised by you,” replied Willoughby, “is certainly in his favour; but as for the esteem of the others, it is a reproach. In defence of your protégé you can even be saucy.”
“My protégé, as you call him, is a sensible man; and sense will always have attractions for me. Yes, Marianne, even in a man between thirty and forty. He has seen much; has been abroad, has read, and has a thinking mind. He is capable of giving me much information on various subjects; and he has always answered my inquiries with readiness of good nature.”
“That is to say,” cried Marianne contemptuously, “he has told you, that in the East Indies the climate is hot, and the mosquitoes are troublesome.”
“Perhaps,” said Willoughby, “his observations may extend to the existence of nabobs and palanquins.”
“Why do you dislike him?” asked Elinor.
“I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very respectable man, who has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to employ, and two new coats every year.”
“And,” cried Marianne, “he has neither genius, taste, nor spirit. His understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no ardour, and his voice no expression.”
“I can only say,” replied Elinor, “that he is a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, and, I believe, possessing an amiable heart.”
“Miss Dashwood,” cried Willoughby, “I have three reasons for disliking Colonel Brandon. He threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine. He has found fault with my curricle. And I cannot persuade him to buy my brown mare. However, his character in other respects is irreproachable, I am ready to confess it.”
Chapter XI
When Marianne was recovered, the private balls at the park began. The parties on the water were made and accomplished as often as a showery October allowed. In every meeting Willoughby was included.
Elinor was not surprised at their attachment. She only wished it was less openly shown. Marianne abhorred all concealment. Willoughby thought the same; and their behaviour at all times, was an illustration of their opinions.
When he was present she did not see anyone else. Everything he did, was right. Everything he said, was clever. If their evenings at the park were concluded with cards, he cheated himself and all the rest of the party to let her win. If dancing formed the amusement of the night, they were partners for half the time. The people laughed at them; but ridicule could not shame and provoke them. To Mrs. Dashwood it was but the natural consequence of a strong affection in a young and ardent mind.
This was the season of happiness to Marianne. Her heart was devoted to Willoughby.
Elinor’s happiness was not so great. Her heart was not so much at ease. Neither Lady Middleton nor Mrs. Jennings were her friends; although the latter was an everlasting talker. Lady Middleton was more agreeable than her mother because she was more silent. But Elinor perceived that her reserve was a mere calmness of manner. Towards her husband and mother she was the same as to them. She had nothing to say one day that she had not said the day before.
In Colonel Brandon alone, of all her new acquaintance, did Elinor find an interesting person. He excited the interest of friendship, and gave pleasure as a companion. Willoughby was out of the question. His attentions were wholly Marianne’s. Colonel Brandon, unfortunately for himself, did not think only of Marianne. In conversing with Elinor he found the greatest consolation for the indifference of her sister.
Elinor’s compassion for him increased, as she had reason to suspect that he knew misery of disappointed love[10]. This suspicion was given by some words which accidentally dropped from him one evening at the park, when they were sitting down together, while the others were dancing. His eyes were fixed on Marianne, and, after a silence of some minutes, he said, with a faint smile,
“Your sister, I understand, does not approve of second attachments.”
“No,” replied Elinor, “she is very romantic.”
“Or rather, as I believe, she considers them impossible to exist.”
“I believe she does. But her own father had himself two wives. It’s strange.”
After a short pause he resumed the conversation,
“Does your sister make no distinction in her objections against a second attachment? Or is it equally criminal in everybody? Must those who were disappointed in their first choice, be equally indifferent during the rest of their lives?”
“I am not acquainted with her principles. I only know she does not admit the second attachment. It’s not pardonable.”
“This,” said he, “cannot last long; but a change, a total change of sentiments – no, no, do not desire it. I speak from experience. I once knew a lady who greatly resembled your sister, who thought and judged like her, but who – from a series of unfortunate circumstances – ”
Here he stopped suddenly.
Chapter XII
One day Margaret cried,
“Oh, Elinor! I have such a secret to tell you about Marianne. I am sure she will be married to Mr. Willoughby very soon.”
“You have said so,” replied Elinor, “almost every day since they first met.”
“But indeed this is quite another thing. I am sure they will be married very soon, for he has got a lock of her hair[11]. He cut it off. I saw it! Last night after tea, when you and mama went out of the room, they were whispering and talking together. Then he begged something of her, and took up her scissors and cut off a long lock of her hair. And he kissed it, and folded it up in a piece of white paper; and put it into his pocket-book.”
Margaret’s sagacity was not always satisfactory to her sister. When Mrs. Jennings attacked her one evening at the park, to give the name of the young man who was Elinor’s particular favourite – it was a matter of great curiosity to her, – Margaret said, “I must not tell, right, Elinor?”
This of course made everybody laugh; and Elinor tried to laugh too. But the effort was painful. She did not like Mrs. Jennings’s jokes.
Marianne turned red and said in an angry manner to Margaret,
“Remember that you have no right to repeat your conjectures.”
“I never had any conjectures about it,” replied Margaret; “it was you who told me of it yourself.”
This increased the mirth of the company.
“Oh! Miss Margaret, let us know all about it,” said Mrs. Jennings. “What is the gentleman’s name?”
“I must not tell, ma’am. But I know very well what it is; and I know where he is too.”
“Yes, yes, we can guess where he is; at his own house at Norland to be sure. He is the curate of the parish I dare say.”
“No, that he is not.”
“Margaret,” said Marianne, “you know that all this is an invention of your own, and that there is no such person in existence.”
“Well, then, he is lately dead, Marianne, for I am sure there was such a man once, and his name begins with an F.”
Lady
disappointed love – несчастная любовь
lock of her hair – её локон