finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Sense and Sensibility/section_17_part_0.txt
Sense and Sensibility.chapters 25-26
chapters 25-26
{"name": "Chapters 25-26", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201101060302/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/s/sense-and-sensibility/summary-and-analysis/chapters-2526", "summary": "When Mrs. Jennings invited Elinor and Marianne to stay with her in London, Elinor at first refused, but Marianne was so eager to go, hoping to see Willoughby, that Elinor finally assented. Their departure took place in the first week of January. During the three-day journey, Marianne \"sat in silence . . . wrapt in her own meditations.\" However, Elinor made up for this rudeness by treating Mrs. Jennings with much solicitude, and the woman was kind and attentive to them in turn. As soon as they arrived, Elinor found Marianne writing to someone, and when she saw a large \"W\" on the envelope, she was sure it was to Willoughby. Elinor concluded from this that they must be engaged. When a visitor arrived, Marianne jumped up, certain it was her love. But it turned out to be Colonel Brandon, who had heard of their arrival through the Palmers. For Marianne, this \"was too much of a shock to be borne with calmness,\" and she ran out of the room in tears, much to the Colonel's surprise. On the next day, Marianne was in high spirits again, obviously expecting a visit from Willoughby. Charlotte Palmer called and they all went out shopping. When they returned, Marianne was greatly upset to find that Willoughby had neither called nor written to her. \"How very odd,\" she murmured. Elinor, observing her sister's behavior, was very uneasy. She determined that \"if appearances continued many days longer as unpleasant as they now were she would represent in the strongest manner to her mother the necessity of some serious inquiry into the affair.\"", "analysis": "Sense and Sensibility, though it is Austen's only \"London\" novel, does not give any insight into the life of the city at that period. The setting is purely social; the ladies shop, visit, and enjoy evening parties. Long visits were common in those days, one reason being the difficulty of travel; a visit of only a few days would not be worth the discomfort involved. Another reason was the fact that the now customary annual summer vacation did not exist. A family seldom moved from their home to rooms in an inn. Visits to the sea, or to inland watering places, were made less for enjoyment than for reasons of health. Note that in this chapter, Elinor's extremely good manners are again in strong contrast to Marianne's impoliteness. She makes herself attentive to her hostess and, during Colonel Brandon's visit, tries in every way to excuse her sister."}


Though Mrs. Jennings was in the habit of spending a large portion of
the year at the houses of her children and friends, she was not without
a settled habitation of her own.  Since the death of her husband, who
had traded with success in a less elegant part of the town, she had
resided every winter in a house in one of the streets near Portman
Square.  Towards this home, she began on the approach of January to
turn her thoughts, and thither she one day abruptly, and very
unexpectedly by them, asked the elder Misses Dashwood to accompany her.
Elinor, without observing the varying complexion of her sister, and the
animated look which spoke no indifference to the plan, immediately gave
a grateful but absolute denial for both, in which she believed herself
to be speaking their united inclinations.  The reason alleged was their
determined resolution of not leaving their mother at that time of the
year.  Mrs. Jennings received the refusal with some surprise, and
repeated her invitation immediately.

"Oh, Lord! I am sure your mother can spare you very well, and I DO beg
you will favour me with your company, for I've quite set my heart upon
it.  Don't fancy that you will be any inconvenience to me, for I shan't
put myself at all out of my way for you.  It will only be sending Betty
by the coach, and I hope I can afford THAT.  We three shall be able to
go very well in my chaise; and when we are in town, if you do not like
to go wherever I do, well and good, you may always go with one of my
daughters.  I am sure your mother will not object to it; for I have had
such good luck in getting my own children off my hands that she will
think me a very fit person to have the charge of you; and if I don't
get one of you at least well married before I have done with you, it
shall not be my fault.  I shall speak a good word for you to all the
young men, you may depend upon it."

"I have a notion," said Sir John, "that Miss Marianne would not object
to such a scheme, if her elder sister would come into it.  It is very
hard indeed that she should not have a little pleasure, because Miss
Dashwood does not wish it.  So I would advise you two, to set off for
town, when you are tired of Barton, without saying a word to Miss
Dashwood about it."

"Nay," cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure I shall be monstrous glad of
Miss Marianne's company, whether Miss Dashwood will go or not, only the
more the merrier say I, and I thought it would be more comfortable for
them to be together; because, if they got tired of me, they might talk
to one another, and laugh at my old ways behind my back.  But one or
the other, if not both of them, I must have.  Lord bless me! how do you
think I can live poking by myself, I who have been always used till
this winter to have Charlotte with me.  Come, Miss Marianne, let us
strike hands upon the bargain, and if Miss Dashwood will change her
mind by and bye, why so much the better."

"I thank you, ma'am, sincerely thank you," said Marianne, with warmth:
"your invitation has insured my gratitude for ever, and it would give
me such happiness, yes, almost the greatest happiness I am capable of,
to be able to accept it.  But my mother, my dearest, kindest mother,--I
feel the justice of what Elinor has urged, and if she were to be made
less happy, less comfortable by our absence--Oh! no, nothing should
tempt me to leave her.  It should not, must not be a struggle."

Mrs. Jennings repeated her assurance that Mrs. Dashwood could spare
them perfectly well; and Elinor, who now understood her sister, and saw
to what indifference to almost every thing else she was carried by her
eagerness to be with Willoughby again, made no farther direct
opposition to the plan, and merely referred it to her mother's
decision, from whom however she scarcely expected to receive any
support in her endeavour to prevent a visit, which she could not
approve of for Marianne, and which on her own account she had
particular reasons to avoid.  Whatever Marianne was desirous of, her
mother would be eager to promote--she could not expect to influence the
latter to cautiousness of conduct in an affair respecting which she had
never been able to inspire her with distrust; and she dared not explain
the motive of her own disinclination for going to London.  That
Marianne, fastidious as she was, thoroughly acquainted with Mrs.
Jennings' manners, and invariably disgusted by them, should overlook
every inconvenience of that kind, should disregard whatever must be
most wounding to her irritable feelings, in her pursuit of one object,
was such a proof, so strong, so full, of the importance of that object
to her, as Elinor, in spite of all that had passed, was not prepared to
witness.

On being informed of the invitation, Mrs. Dashwood, persuaded that such
an excursion would be productive of much amusement to both her
daughters, and perceiving through all her affectionate attention to
herself, how much the heart of Marianne was in it, would not hear of
their declining the offer upon HER account; insisted on their both
accepting it directly; and then began to foresee, with her usual
cheerfulness, a variety of advantages that would accrue to them all,
from this separation.

"I am delighted with the plan," she cried, "it is exactly what I could
wish.  Margaret and I shall be as much benefited by it as yourselves.
When you and the Middletons are gone, we shall go on so quietly and
happily together with our books and our music! You will find Margaret
so improved when you come back again!  I have a little plan of
alteration for your bedrooms too, which may now be performed without
any inconvenience to any one.  It is very right that you SHOULD go to
town; I would have every young woman of your condition in life
acquainted with the manners and amusements of London.  You will be
under the care of a motherly good sort of woman, of whose kindness to
you I can have no doubt.  And in all probability you will see your
brother, and whatever may be his faults, or the faults of his wife,
when I consider whose son he is, I cannot bear to have you so wholly
estranged from each other."

"Though with your usual anxiety for our happiness," said Elinor, "you
have been obviating every impediment to the present scheme which
occurred to you, there is still one objection which, in my opinion,
cannot be so easily removed."

Marianne's countenance sunk.

"And what," said Mrs. Dashwood, "is my dear prudent Elinor going to
suggest?  What formidable obstacle is she now to bring forward?  Do let
me hear a word about the expense of it."

"My objection is this; though I think very well of Mrs. Jennings's
heart, she is not a woman whose society can afford us pleasure, or
whose protection will give us consequence."

"That is very true," replied her mother, "but of her society,
separately from that of other people, you will scarcely have any thing
at all, and you will almost always appear in public with Lady
Middleton."

"If Elinor is frightened away by her dislike of Mrs. Jennings," said
Marianne, "at least it need not prevent MY accepting her invitation.  I
have no such scruples, and I am sure I could put up with every
unpleasantness of that kind with very little effort."

Elinor could not help smiling at this display of indifference towards
the manners of a person, to whom she had often had difficulty in
persuading Marianne to behave with tolerable politeness; and resolved
within herself, that if her sister persisted in going, she would go
likewise, as she did not think it proper that Marianne should be left
to the sole guidance of her own judgment, or that Mrs. Jennings should
be abandoned to the mercy of Marianne for all the comfort of her
domestic hours.  To this determination she was the more easily
reconciled, by recollecting that Edward Ferrars, by Lucy's account, was
not to be in town before February; and that their visit, without any
unreasonable abridgement, might be previously finished.

"I will have you BOTH go," said Mrs. Dashwood; "these objections are
nonsensical.  You will have much pleasure in being in London, and
especially in being together; and if Elinor would ever condescend to
anticipate enjoyment, she would foresee it there from a variety of
sources; she would, perhaps, expect some from improving her
acquaintance with her sister-in-law's family."

Elinor had often wished for an opportunity of attempting to weaken her
mother's dependence on the attachment of Edward and herself, that the
shock might be less when the whole truth were revealed, and now on this
attack, though almost hopeless of success, she forced herself to begin
her design by saying, as calmly as she could, "I like Edward Ferrars
very much, and shall always be glad to see him; but as to the rest of
the family, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me, whether I am
ever known to them or not."

Mrs. Dashwood smiled, and said nothing.  Marianne lifted up her eyes in
astonishment, and Elinor conjectured that she might as well have held
her tongue.

After very little farther discourse, it was finally settled that the
invitation should be fully accepted.  Mrs. Jennings received the
information with a great deal of joy, and many assurances of kindness
and care; nor was it a matter of pleasure merely to her.  Sir John was
delighted; for to a man, whose prevailing anxiety was the dread of
being alone, the acquisition of two, to the number of inhabitants in
London, was something.  Even Lady Middleton took the trouble of being
delighted, which was putting herself rather out of her way; and as for
the Miss Steeles, especially Lucy, they had never been so happy in
their lives as this intelligence made them.

Elinor submitted to the arrangement which counteracted her wishes with
less reluctance than she had expected to feel.  With regard to herself,
it was now a matter of unconcern whether she went to town or not, and
when she saw her mother so thoroughly pleased with the plan, and her
sister exhilarated by it in look, voice, and manner, restored to all
her usual animation, and elevated to more than her usual gaiety, she
could not be dissatisfied with the cause, and would hardly allow
herself to distrust the consequence.

Marianne's joy was almost a degree beyond happiness, so great was the
perturbation of her spirits and her impatience to be gone.  Her
unwillingness to quit her mother was her only restorative to calmness;
and at the moment of parting her grief on that score was excessive.
Her mother's affliction was hardly less, and Elinor was the only one of
the three, who seemed to consider the separation as any thing short of
eternal.

Their departure took place in the first week in January.  The
Middletons were to follow in about a week.  The Miss Steeles kept their
station at the park, and were to quit it only with the rest of the
family.




Elinor could not find herself in the carriage with Mrs. Jennings, and
beginning a journey to London under her protection, and as her guest,
without wondering at her own situation, so short had their acquaintance
with that lady been, so wholly unsuited were they in age and
disposition, and so many had been her objections against such a measure
only a few days before! But these objections had all, with that happy
ardour of youth which Marianne and her mother equally shared, been
overcome or overlooked; and Elinor, in spite of every occasional doubt
of Willoughby's constancy, could not witness the rapture of delightful
expectation which filled the whole soul and beamed in the eyes of
Marianne, without feeling how blank was her own prospect, how cheerless
her own state of mind in the comparison, and how gladly she would
engage in the solicitude of Marianne's situation to have the same
animating object in view, the same possibility of hope.  A short, a
very short time however must now decide what Willoughby's intentions
were; in all probability he was already in town.  Marianne's eagerness
to be gone declared her dependence on finding him there; and Elinor was
resolved not only upon gaining every new light as to his character
which her own observation or the intelligence of others could give her,
but likewise upon watching his behaviour to her sister with such
zealous attention, as to ascertain what he was and what he meant,
before many meetings had taken place.  Should the result of her
observations be unfavourable, she was determined at all events to open
the eyes of her sister; should it be otherwise, her exertions would be
of a different nature--she must then learn to avoid every selfish
comparison, and banish every regret which might lessen her satisfaction
in the happiness of Marianne.

They were three days on their journey, and Marianne's behaviour as they
travelled was a happy specimen of what future complaisance and
companionableness to Mrs. Jennings might be expected to be.  She sat in
silence almost all the way, wrapt in her own meditations, and scarcely
ever voluntarily speaking, except when any object of picturesque beauty
within their view drew from her an exclamation of delight exclusively
addressed to her sister.  To atone for this conduct therefore, Elinor
took immediate possession of the post of civility which she had
assigned herself, behaved with the greatest attention to Mrs. Jennings,
talked with her, laughed with her, and listened to her whenever she
could; and Mrs. Jennings on her side treated them both with all
possible kindness, was solicitous on every occasion for their ease and
enjoyment, and only disturbed that she could not make them choose their
own dinners at the inn, nor extort a confession of their preferring
salmon to cod, or boiled fowls to veal cutlets.  They reached town by
three o'clock the third day, glad to be released, after such a journey,
from the confinement of a carriage, and ready to enjoy all the luxury
of a good fire.

The house was handsome, and handsomely fitted up, and the young ladies
were immediately put in possession of a very comfortable apartment.  It
had formerly been Charlotte's, and over the mantelpiece still hung a
landscape in coloured silks of her performance, in proof of her having
spent seven years at a great school in town to some effect.

As dinner was not to be ready in less than two hours from their
arrival, Elinor determined to employ the interval in writing to her
mother, and sat down for that purpose.  In a few moments Marianne did
the same.  "I am writing home, Marianne," said Elinor; "had not you
better defer your letter for a day or two?"

"I am NOT going to write to my mother," replied Marianne, hastily, and
as if wishing to avoid any farther inquiry.  Elinor said no more; it
immediately struck her that she must then be writing to Willoughby; and
the conclusion which as instantly followed was, that, however
mysteriously they might wish to conduct the affair, they must be
engaged.  This conviction, though not entirely satisfactory, gave her
pleasure, and she continued her letter with greater alacrity.
Marianne's was finished in a very few minutes; in length it could be no
more than a note; it was then folded up, sealed, and directed with
eager rapidity.  Elinor thought she could distinguish a large W in the
direction; and no sooner was it complete than Marianne, ringing the
bell, requested the footman who answered it to get that letter conveyed
for her to the two-penny post.  This decided the matter at once.

Her spirits still continued very high; but there was a flutter in them
which prevented their giving much pleasure to her sister, and this
agitation increased as the evening drew on.  She could scarcely eat any
dinner, and when they afterwards returned to the drawing room, seemed
anxiously listening to the sound of every carriage.

It was a great satisfaction to Elinor that Mrs. Jennings, by being much
engaged in her own room, could see little of what was passing.  The tea
things were brought in, and already had Marianne been disappointed more
than once by a rap at a neighbouring door, when a loud one was suddenly
heard which could not be mistaken for one at any other house, Elinor
felt secure of its announcing Willoughby's approach, and Marianne,
starting up, moved towards the door.  Every thing was silent; this
could not be borne many seconds; she opened the door, advanced a few
steps towards the stairs, and after listening half a minute, returned
into the room in all the agitation which a conviction of having heard
him would naturally produce; in the ecstasy of her feelings at that
instant she could not help exclaiming, "Oh, Elinor, it is Willoughby,
indeed it is!" and seemed almost ready to throw herself into his arms,
when Colonel Brandon appeared.

It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness, and she immediately
left the room.  Elinor was disappointed too; but at the same time her
regard for Colonel Brandon ensured his welcome with her; and she felt
particularly hurt that a man so partial to her sister should perceive
that she experienced nothing but grief and disappointment in seeing
him.  She instantly saw that it was not unnoticed by him, that he even
observed Marianne as she quitted the room, with such astonishment and
concern, as hardly left him the recollection of what civility demanded
towards herself.

"Is your sister ill?" said he.

Elinor answered in some distress that she was, and then talked of
head-aches, low spirits, and over fatigues; and of every thing to which
she could decently attribute her sister's behaviour.

He heard her with the most earnest attention, but seeming to recollect
himself, said no more on the subject, and began directly to speak of
his pleasure at seeing them in London, making the usual inquiries about
their journey, and the friends they had left behind.

In this calm kind of way, with very little interest on either side,
they continued to talk, both of them out of spirits, and the thoughts
of both engaged elsewhere.  Elinor wished very much to ask whether
Willoughby were then in town, but she was afraid of giving him pain by
any enquiry after his rival; and at length, by way of saying something,
she asked if he had been in London ever since she had seen him last.
"Yes," he replied, with some embarrassment, "almost ever since; I have
been once or twice at Delaford for a few days, but it has never been in
my power to return to Barton."

This, and the manner in which it was said, immediately brought back to
her remembrance all the circumstances of his quitting that place, with
the uneasiness and suspicions they had caused to Mrs. Jennings, and she
was fearful that her question had implied much more curiosity on the
subject than she had ever felt.

Mrs. Jennings soon came in.  "Oh! Colonel," said she, with her usual
noisy cheerfulness, "I am monstrous glad to see you--sorry I could not
come before--beg your pardon, but I have been forced to look about me a
little, and settle my matters; for it is a long while since I have been
at home, and you know one has always a world of little odd things to do
after one has been away for any time; and then I have had Cartwright to
settle with-- Lord, I have been as busy as a bee ever since dinner!
But pray, Colonel, how came you to conjure out that I should be in town
today?"

"I had the pleasure of hearing it at Mr. Palmer's, where I have been
dining."

"Oh, you did; well, and how do they all do at their house?  How does
Charlotte do?  I warrant you she is a fine size by this time."

"Mrs. Palmer appeared quite well, and I am commissioned to tell you,
that you will certainly see her to-morrow."

"Ay, to be sure, I thought as much.  Well, Colonel, I have brought two
young ladies with me, you see--that is, you see but one of them now,
but there is another somewhere.  Your friend, Miss Marianne, too--which
you will not be sorry to hear.  I do not know what you and Mr.
Willoughby will do between you about her.  Ay, it is a fine thing to be
young and handsome.  Well! I was young once, but I never was very
handsome--worse luck for me.  However, I got a very good husband, and I
don't know what the greatest beauty can do more.  Ah! poor man! he has
been dead these eight years and better.  But Colonel, where have you
been to since we parted?  And how does your business go on?  Come,
come, let's have no secrets among friends."

He replied with his accustomary mildness to all her inquiries, but
without satisfying her in any.  Elinor now began to make the tea, and
Marianne was obliged to appear again.

After her entrance, Colonel Brandon became more thoughtful and silent
than he had been before, and Mrs. Jennings could not prevail on him to
stay long.  No other visitor appeared that evening, and the ladies were
unanimous in agreeing to go early to bed.

Marianne rose the next morning with recovered spirits and happy looks.
The disappointment of the evening before seemed forgotten in the
expectation of what was to happen that day.  They had not long finished
their breakfast before Mrs. Palmer's barouche stopped at the door, and
in a few minutes she came laughing into the room: so delighted to see
them all, that it was hard to say whether she received most pleasure
from meeting her mother or the Miss Dashwoods again.  So surprised at
their coming to town, though it was what she had rather expected all
along; so angry at their accepting her mother's invitation after having
declined her own, though at the same time she would never have forgiven
them if they had not come!

"Mr. Palmer will be so happy to see you," said she; "What do you think
he said when he heard of your coming with Mama?  I forget what it was
now, but it was something so droll!"

After an hour or two spent in what her mother called comfortable chat,
or in other words, in every variety of inquiry concerning all their
acquaintance on Mrs. Jennings's side, and in laughter without cause on
Mrs. Palmer's, it was proposed by the latter that they should all
accompany her to some shops where she had business that morning, to
which Mrs. Jennings and Elinor readily consented, as having likewise
some purchases to make themselves; and Marianne, though declining it at
first was induced to go likewise.

Wherever they went, she was evidently always on the watch.  In Bond
Street especially, where much of their business lay, her eyes were in
constant inquiry; and in whatever shop the party were engaged, her mind
was equally abstracted from every thing actually before them, from all
that interested and occupied the others.  Restless and dissatisfied
every where, her sister could never obtain her opinion of any article
of purchase, however it might equally concern them both: she received
no pleasure from anything; was only impatient to be at home again, and
could with difficulty govern her vexation at the tediousness of Mrs.
Palmer, whose eye was caught by every thing pretty, expensive, or new;
who was wild to buy all, could determine on none, and dawdled away her
time in rapture and indecision.

It was late in the morning before they returned home; and no sooner had
they entered the house than Marianne flew eagerly up stairs, and when
Elinor followed, she found her turning from the table with a sorrowful
countenance, which declared that no Willoughby had been there.

"Has no letter been left here for me since we went out?" said she to
the footman who then entered with the parcels.  She was answered in the
negative.  "Are you quite sure of it?" she replied.  "Are you certain
that no servant, no porter has left any letter or note?"

The man replied that none had.

"How very odd!" said she, in a low and disappointed voice, as she
turned away to the window.

"How odd, indeed!" repeated Elinor within herself, regarding her sister
with uneasiness.  "If she had not known him to be in town she would not
have written to him, as she did; she would have written to Combe Magna;
and if he is in town, how odd that he should neither come nor write!
Oh! my dear mother, you must be wrong in permitting an engagement
between a daughter so young, a man so little known, to be carried on in
so doubtful, so mysterious a manner!  I long to inquire; and how will
MY interference be borne."

She determined, after some consideration, that if appearances continued
many days longer as unpleasant as they now were, she would represent in
the strongest manner to her mother the necessity of some serious
enquiry into the affair.

Mrs. Palmer and two elderly ladies of Mrs. Jennings's intimate
acquaintance, whom she had met and invited in the morning, dined with
them.  The former left them soon after tea to fulfill her evening
engagements; and Elinor was obliged to assist in making a whist table
for the others.  Marianne was of no use on these occasions, as she
would never learn the game; but though her time was therefore at her
own disposal, the evening was by no means more productive of pleasure
to her than to Elinor, for it was spent in all the anxiety of
expectation and the pain of disappointment.  She sometimes endeavoured
for a few minutes to read; but the book was soon thrown aside, and she
returned to the more interesting employment of walking backwards and
forwards across the room, pausing for a moment whenever she came to the
window, in hopes of distinguishing the long-expected rap.



Chapters 25-26
When Mrs. Jennings invited Elinor and Marianne to stay with her in London, Elinor at first refused, but Marianne was so eager to go, hoping to see Willoughby, that Elinor finally assented. Their departure took place in the first week of January. During the three-day journey, Marianne "sat in silence . . . wrapt in her own meditations." However, Elinor made up for this rudeness by treating Mrs. Jennings with much solicitude, and the woman was kind and attentive to them in turn. As soon as they arrived, Elinor found Marianne writing to someone, and when she saw a large "W" on the envelope, she was sure it was to Willoughby. Elinor concluded from this that they must be engaged. When a visitor arrived, Marianne jumped up, certain it was her love. But it turned out to be Colonel Brandon, who had heard of their arrival through the Palmers. For Marianne, this "was too much of a shock to be borne with calmness," and she ran out of the room in tears, much to the Colonel's surprise. On the next day, Marianne was in high spirits again, obviously expecting a visit from Willoughby. Charlotte Palmer called and they all went out shopping. When they returned, Marianne was greatly upset to find that Willoughby had neither called nor written to her. "How very odd," she murmured. Elinor, observing her sister's behavior, was very uneasy. She determined that "if appearances continued many days longer as unpleasant as they now were she would represent in the strongest manner to her mother the necessity of some serious inquiry into the affair."
Sense and Sensibility, though it is Austen's only "London" novel, does not give any insight into the life of the city at that period. The setting is purely social; the ladies shop, visit, and enjoy evening parties. Long visits were common in those days, one reason being the difficulty of travel; a visit of only a few days would not be worth the discomfort involved. Another reason was the fact that the now customary annual summer vacation did not exist. A family seldom moved from their home to rooms in an inn. Visits to the sea, or to inland watering places, were made less for enjoyment than for reasons of health. Note that in this chapter, Elinor's extremely good manners are again in strong contrast to Marianne's impoliteness. She makes herself attentive to her hostess and, during Colonel Brandon's visit, tries in every way to excuse her sister.