Courtesy and Contempt

Chapter 16

Chapter 16"What a pity, Eleanore," Marianne said, "that Edward has no taste for drawing."

"No taste in drawing!" replied Eleanore, "why would you think that? He may not draw himself, but he takes great pleasure in seeing other people's performances, and I assure you that he is by no means lacking in natural taste, although he had no way to improve it. If he had ever been through learning, I think he would have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such matters so much that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on a picture; but he has an innate decency and a simple taste that generally direct him perfectly right.

Marianne was afraid of offending and said nothing more on the subject; but the kind of approval that Eleanore described as aroused in him by other people's drawings was far from that rapturous joy that, in her opinion, could be called taste alone. But although she smiled inwardly at the mistake, she honored her sister for that blind fondness for Edward that had produced him.

"I hope Marianne," Eleanore continued, "you don't think he's tasteless. I even think you can't, because you're completely warm to him, and if that was your opinion, I'd say I'm sure you could never be polite to him."

Marianne hardly knew what to say. She wouldn't hurt her sister's feelings in any way, and yet saying what she didn't believe was impossible. Finally she replied,

"Don't be offended, Eleanore, if my praise for him doesn't match your sense of merit in everything. I have not had as many opportunities to assess the smallest inclinations of his mind, his inclinations and his taste as you have done; but I have the highest opinion in the world of his goodness and intellect. I consider him to be everything that is worthy and amiable.

"I'm sure," Eleanore replied with a smile, "that his dearest friends couldn't be dissatisfied with such praise.

Marianne was happy to find her sister so easily delighted.

his imagination is vivid, his observation fair and correct, his taste delicate and pure. His abilities in every way improve with acquaintance as well as his manners and his person. At first glance, his address is certainly not noticeable; and his person can hardly be called beautiful until the expression of his eyes, which are unusually good, and the general sweetness of his face are perceived. Now I know him so well that I find him really beautiful; or at least almost like that. What do you say, Marianne?" which are unusually good, and the general sweetness of his facial expression is perceived. Now I know him so well that I find him really beautiful; or at least almost like that. What do you say, Marianne?" which are unusually good, and the general sweetness of his facial expression is perceived. Now I know him so well that I find him really beautiful; or at least almost like that. What do you say, Marianne?"

"I'll think he's good-looking very soon, Eleanore, if I don't do it now.

Eleanore winced at this statement and regretted the warmth in which she had been betrayed when she spoke of him. She felt that Edward was very high in her opinion. She believed that respect was based on reciprocity; but she needed greater certainty to make Marianne's conviction of her attachment pleasant to her. She knew that what Marianne and her mother suspected one moment they believed the next – that for them, wishing equals hoping and hoping equals expecting. She tried to explain the truth of the case to her sister.

"I try not to deny," she said, "that I think a lot of him — that I appreciate him very much, that I like him."

Marianne here erupted with indignation –

"Appreciate him! Like him! Cold-hearted Eleanore! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Shame on being different.

Eleanore couldn't help but laugh. "Excuse me," she said; "And rest assured that I didn't want to offend you by speaking so quietly of my own feelings. Believe that they are stronger than I have explained; Believe, in short, that they are so merit, and the suspicion – the hope of his affection for me may justify, without unwiseness or folly. But you can't believe any further than that. I am by no means sure of his appreciation for me. There are moments when the extent seems doubtful; and until his feelings are fully known, you can't be surprised that I want to avoid any encouragement of my own bias by believing it more or calling it more than it is. In my heart, I feel little – little doubt about his preference, but there are other points to consider besides his inclination: he is far from being independent. We cannot know what his mother really is; but, from Esther's occasional mention of her behavior and opinions, we have never been inclined to think of her kindly; and I am very mistaken if Edward himself does not know that many difficulties would lie on his way if he wanted to marry a woman who had neither a great fortune nor a high rank.

Marianne was amazed to discover how much the imagination of her mother and herself had surpassed the truth.

"And you're really not engaged to him!" she said. "Nevertheless, it will certainly happen soon. But two benefits will come from this delay. I'm not going to lose you anytime soon, and Edward will have a greater opportunity to enhance that natural taste for your favorite pastime, which must be so vital to your future happiness. Oh, if he were to be stimulated by your genius to learn to draw himself, how delightful that would be!"

Eleanore had told her sister her true opinion. She couldn't look at her fondness for Edward in such a prosperous state as Marianne had believed. At times there was a lack of spirit around him who, if he did not express indifference, spoke of something almost as unpromising. A doubt about their appreciation, provided he felt them, needed to cause him nothing more than unrest. It probably wouldn't evoke the dejection that often accompanied him. A more reasonable reason could lie in the dependency situation, which forbids him to satisfy his affection. She knew that his mother did not behave towards him in such a way that he was now making him comfortable, nor did he give him any assurance that he could create a home without strictly caring about her views on his enlargement. With such knowledge, it was impossible for Eleanore to feel light on this subject. She was far from relying on the result of his preference for her, which her mother and sister still thought was safe. Yes, the longer they were together, the more dubious the nature of his consideration seemed; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, she believed it was nothing more than friendship.

But whatever his limitations, it was enough if it was perceived by his sister to make her restless and at the same time (which was even more common) make her rude. She took the first opportunity to insult her mother-in-law on this occasion by telling her so ?? spoke expressively of her brother's great expectations, of Mrs. Gastonois' decision that her two sons should marry well, and of the danger that every young woman brings with her to try to draw him in; that Ms. Hargrove could not pretend to be unconscious, nor could she make an effort to be calm. She gave her an answer expressing her contempt and immediately left the room with the decision that her beloved Eleanore, whatever the inconvenience or cost of such a sudden move, should not be subjected to such allusions for another week.

In this mood, a letter was sent to her by the post office, which contained a particularly suitable proposal. It was the offer of a small house on very favourable terms, owned by his own relative, a respected gentleman owned in Devonshire. The letter was written by this gentleman himself and in the true spirit of kind courtesy. He understood that she needed an apartment; and even though the house he now offered her was just a cottage, he assured her that everything she thought was necessary should be done if she liked the situation. After giving her the details of the house and garden, he seriously urged her to come with her daughters to Barton Park, the place of his own residence, from where she could judge for herself whether Barton Cottage, because the houses were in the same community, could be made comfortable by any change. He seemed really anxious to accommodate them, and his whole letter was written in such a friendly style that he could bring joy to his cousin; especially at a moment when she was suffering from the cold and callous behavior of her close relatives. She didn't need time for reflection or research. Her decision was made while she was reading. Barton's location in a county as far away from Sussex as Devonshire, which just a few hours earlier would have been a sufficient objection to outweigh any possible advantage of the place, was now her first recommendation. Leaving the neighborhood of Norland was no longer an evil; it was an object of desire; it was a blessing compared to the misery of continuing her daughter-in-law's guest; and to move away from this beloved place forever would be less painful than inhabiting or visiting it while such a woman was his mistress. She immediately wrote sir John Mideltown her appreciation of his kindness and her acceptance of his proposal; and then hurried to show both letters to her daughters so that she could be sure of her approval before her reply was sent.

Eleanore had always thought it would be wiser for her to settle some distance from Norland than immediately below her current acquaintance. Therefore, it was not for her to oppose her mother's intention to move to Devonshire. Also, as described by Sir John, the house was of such a simple size and the rent so unusually moderate that she was not given the right to object on both points; and therefore, although it was not a plan that enchanted her imagination, even though it was a distance from the norland area that exceeded her desires, she made no attempt to dissuade her mother from sending a letter of consent.