No sooner was her answer dispatched, than Mrs. Dashwood indulged herself
in the pleasure of announcing to her son-in-law and his wife that she
was provided with a house, and should incommode them no longer than till
every thing were ready for her inhabiting it. They heard her with
surprise. Mrs. John Dashwood said nothing; but her husband civilly hoped
that she would not be settled far from Norland. She had great
satisfaction in replying that she was going into Devonshire.--Edward
turned hastily towards her, on hearing this, and, in a voice of surprise
and concern, which required no explanation to her, repeated,
"Devonshire! Are you, indeed, going there? So far from hence! And to
what part of it?" She explained the situation. It was within four miles
northward of Exeter.

"It is but a cottage," she continued, "but I hope to see many of my
friends in it.  A room or two can easily be added; and if my friends
find no difficulty in travelling so far to see me, I am sure I will
find none in accommodating them."

She concluded with a very kind invitation to Mr. and Mrs. John Dashwood
to visit her at Barton; and to Edward she gave one with still greater
affection.  Though her late conversation with her daughter-in-law had
made her resolve on remaining at Norland no longer than was
unavoidable, it had not produced the smallest effect on her in that
point to which it principally tended.  To separate Edward and Elinor
was as far from being her object as ever; and she wished to show Mrs.
John Dashwood, by this pointed invitation to her brother, how totally
she disregarded her disapprobation of the match.

Mr. John Dashwood told his mother again and again how exceedingly sorry
he was that she had taken a house at such a distance from Norland as to
prevent his being of any service to her in removing her furniture.  He
really felt conscientiously vexed on the occasion; for the very
exertion to which he had limited the performance of his promise to his
father was by this arrangement rendered impracticable.-- The furniture
was all sent around by water.  It chiefly consisted of household linen,
plate, china, and books, with a handsome pianoforte of Marianne's.
Mrs. John Dashwood saw the packages depart with a sigh: she could not
help feeling it hard that as Mrs. Dashwood's income would be so
trifling in comparison with their own, she should have any handsome
article of furniture.

Mrs. Dashwood took the house for a twelvemonth; it was ready furnished,
and she might have immediate possession.  No difficulty arose on either
side in the agreement; and she waited only for the disposal of her
effects at Norland, and to determine her future household, before she
set off for the west; and this, as she was exceedingly rapid in the
performance of everything that interested her, was soon done.--The
horses which were left her by her husband had been sold soon after his
death, and an opportunity now offering of disposing of her carriage,
she agreed to sell that likewise at the earnest advice of her eldest
daughter.  For the comfort of her children, had she consulted only her
own wishes, she would have kept it; but the discretion of Elinor
prevailed.  HER wisdom too limited the number of their servants to
three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from
amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland.

The man and one of the maids were sent off immediately into Devonshire,
to prepare the house for their mistress's arrival; for as Lady
Middleton was entirely unknown to Mrs. Dashwood, she preferred going
directly to the cottage to being a visitor at Barton Park; and she
relied so undoubtingly on Sir John's description of the house, as to
feel no curiosity to examine it herself till she entered it as her own.
Her eagerness to be gone from Norland was preserved from diminution by
the evident satisfaction of her daughter-in-law in the prospect of her
removal; a satisfaction which was but feebly attempted to be concealed
under a cold invitation to her to defer her departure.  Now was the
time when her son-in-law's promise to his father might with particular
propriety be fulfilled.  Since he had neglected to do it on first
coming to the estate, their quitting his house might be looked on as
the most suitable period for its accomplishment.  But Mrs. Dashwood
began shortly to give over every hope of the kind, and to be convinced,
from the general drift of his discourse, that his assistance extended
no farther than their maintenance for six months at Norland.  He so
frequently talked of the increasing expenses of housekeeping, and of
the perpetual demands upon his purse, which a man of any consequence in
the world was beyond calculation exposed to, that he seemed rather to
stand in need of more money himself than to have any design of giving
money away.

In a very few weeks from the day which brought Sir John Middleton's
first letter to Norland, every thing was so far settled in their future
abode as to enable Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters to begin their
journey.

Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so
much beloved.  "Dear, dear Norland!" said Marianne, as she wandered
alone before the house, on the last evening of their being there; "when
shall I cease to regret you!--when learn to feel a home elsewhere!--Oh!
happy house, could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this
spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no more!--And you, ye
well-known trees!--but you will continue the same.--No leaf will decay
because we are removed, nor any branch become motionless although we
can observe you no longer!--No; you will continue the same; unconscious
of the pleasure or the regret you occasion, and insensible of any
change in those who walk under your shade!--But who will remain to
enjoy you?"

Mrs. Dashwood announces that they are to leave soon, and take the cottage in Devonshire; Fanny Dashwood is pleased of course, though Edward seems surprised that they are moving so far away. Mrs. Dashwood takes pleasure in the arrangements, and sends their furniture ahead to the house; she invites Edward warmly, hoping he will come to visit them there. Mrs. Dashwood's former hopes that John Dashwood might assist them in some way come to naught; indeed, he starts to comment on the expenses of his housekeeping, indicating that his generosity only extended to keeping them at Norland for those few months.

Although John Dashwood's wish to be of service to the Dashwood women is heartfelt at one point, unfortunately it does not last; he is proved unfailingly selfish, as he joins his wife in making frequent comments to hurry the Dashwood women's departure. Edward's reaction to the announcement of their departure seems to confirm his affections for Elinor, although her doubts about his love are certainly not settled on this occasion. Marianne's thoughts before leaving show her unfailingly romantic thoughts, through high-flown diction and a very emotional tone. She is a master of overstatement, as she states that she could never feel at home anywhere else; but likely she will feel at home in Barton Cottage, though it is not as grand as Norland. Although Elinor's suffering at leaving remains unaddressed, Marianne's tendency to feel too keenly, and to express this overabundance of feeling freely becomes clear

Mrs. Dashwood immediately tells her pushy stepson and daughter-in-law that she has found a new house - far, far away from Norland in Devonshire. Fanny and John aren't too upset by the news, as you can imagine. Edward, on the other hand, is quite upset. Mrs. Dashwood, who wants to prove to Fanny once and for all that Elinor and Edward shouldn't be separated, invites him to visit them in the new house. John feels some pangs of conscience about his stepmom and sisters leaving Norland - after all, he did promise his dying father to take care of them. Fanny, however, is just sad to see the nice furniture Mrs. Dashwood inherited leaving with her. The Dashwood ladies go about the business of their departure, sending furniture and servants to the Devonshire house ahead of them. Mrs. Dashwood hopes in vain for a little financial help from John, but her stingy stepson does no such thing. The girls and their mother leave Norland, and the last view we get of it is through Marianne's misty eyes. Goodbye, childhood home - hello strange new life!


The first part of their journey was performed in too melancholy a
disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant.  But as they
drew towards the end of it, their interest in the appearance of a
country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection, and a view
of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness.  It was a
pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich in pasture.  After winding
along it for more than a mile, they reached their own house.  A small
green court was the whole of its demesne in front; and a neat wicket
gate admitted them into it.

As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact;
but as a cottage it was defective, for the building was regular, the
roof was tiled, the window shutters were not painted green, nor were
the walls covered with honeysuckles.  A narrow passage led directly
through the house into the garden behind.  On each side of the entrance
was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square; and beyond them were the
offices and the stairs.  Four bed-rooms and two garrets formed the rest
of the house.  It had not been built many years and was in good repair.
In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeed!--but the tears
which recollection called forth as they entered the house were soon
dried away.  They were cheered by the joy of the servants on their
arrival, and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear happy.
It was very early in September; the season was fine, and from first
seeing the place under the advantage of good weather, they received an
impression in its favour which was of material service in recommending
it to their lasting approbation.

The situation of the house was good.  High hills rose immediately
behind, and at no great distance on each side; some of which were open
downs, the others cultivated and woody.  The village of Barton was
chiefly on one of these hills, and formed a pleasant view from the
cottage windows.  The prospect in front was more extensive; it
commanded the whole of the valley, and reached into the country beyond.
The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated the valley in that
direction; under another name, and in another course, it branched out
again between two of the steepest of them.

With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. Dashwood was upon the
whole well satisfied; for though her former style of life rendered many
additions to the latter indispensable, yet to add and improve was a
delight to her; and she had at this time ready money enough to supply
all that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments.  "As for the
house itself, to be sure," said she, "it is too small for our family,
but we will make ourselves tolerably comfortable for the present, as it
is too late in the year for improvements.  Perhaps in the spring, if I
have plenty of money, as I dare say I shall, we may think about
building.  These parlors are both too small for such parties of our
friends as I hope to see often collected here; and I have some thoughts
of throwing the passage into one of them with perhaps a part of the
other, and so leave the remainder of that other for an entrance; this,
with a new drawing room which may be easily added, and a bed-chamber
and garret above, will make it a very snug little cottage.  I could
wish the stairs were handsome.  But one must not expect every thing;
though I suppose it would be no difficult matter to widen them.  I
shall see how much I am before-hand with the world in the spring, and
we will plan our improvements accordingly."

In the mean time, till all these alterations could be made from the
savings of an income of five hundred a-year by a woman who never saved
in her life, they were wise enough to be contented with the house as it
was; and each of them was busy in arranging their particular concerns,
and endeavoring, by placing around them books and other possessions, to
form themselves a home.  Marianne's pianoforte was unpacked and
properly disposed of; and Elinor's drawings were affixed to the walls
of their sitting room.

In such employments as these they were interrupted soon after breakfast
the next day by the entrance of their landlord, who called to welcome
them to Barton, and to offer them every accommodation from his own
house and garden in which theirs might at present be deficient.  Sir
John Middleton was a good looking man about forty.  He had formerly
visited at Stanhill, but it was too long for his young cousins to
remember him.  His countenance was thoroughly good-humoured; and his
manners were as friendly as the style of his letter.  Their arrival
seemed to afford him real satisfaction, and their comfort to be an
object of real solicitude to him.  He said much of his earnest desire
of their living in the most sociable terms with his family, and pressed
them so cordially to dine at Barton Park every day till they were
better settled at home, that, though his entreaties were carried to a
point of perseverance beyond civility, they could not give offence.
His kindness was not confined to words; for within an hour after he
left them, a large basket full of garden stuff and fruit arrived from
the park, which was followed before the end of the day by a present of
game.  He insisted, moreover, on conveying all their letters to and
from the post for them, and would not be denied the satisfaction of
sending them his newspaper every day.

Lady Middleton had sent a very civil message by him, denoting her
intention of waiting on Mrs. Dashwood as soon as she could be assured
that her visit would be no inconvenience; and as this message was
answered by an invitation equally polite, her ladyship was introduced
to them the next day.

They were, of course, very anxious to see a person on whom so much of
their comfort at Barton must depend; and the elegance of her appearance
was favourable to their wishes.  Lady Middleton was not more than six
or seven and twenty; her face was handsome, her figure tall and
striking, and her address graceful.  Her manners had all the elegance
which her husband's wanted.  But they would have been improved by some
share of his frankness and warmth; and her visit was long enough to
detract something from their first admiration, by shewing that, though
perfectly well-bred, she was reserved, cold, and had nothing to say for
herself beyond the most common-place inquiry or remark.

Conversation however was not wanted, for Sir John was very chatty, and
Lady Middleton had taken the wise precaution of bringing with her their
eldest child, a fine little boy about six years old, by which means
there was one subject always to be recurred to by the ladies in case of
extremity, for they had to enquire his name and age, admire his beauty,
and ask him questions which his mother answered for him, while he hung
about her and held down his head, to the great surprise of her
ladyship, who wondered at his being so shy before company, as he could
make noise enough at home.  On every formal visit a child ought to be
of the party, by way of provision for discourse.  In the present case
it took up ten minutes to determine whether the boy were most like his
father or mother, and in what particular he resembled either, for of
course every body differed, and every body was astonished at the
opinion of the others.

An opportunity was soon to be given to the Dashwoods of debating on the
rest of the children, as Sir John would not leave the house without
securing their promise of dining at the park the next day.

The Dashwoods are melancholy on setting off, but as they get closer to Barton Cottage they become more interested in this new area and the new home they are to inhabit. They find Barton Cottage a bit small and comfortable, though not as romantic as a cottage is thought to be. The valley and countryside around it is very pleasant, and helps them to think well of their new place. They make do as well as they can, though Mrs. Dashwood wishes to make improvements to the place in the future. Sir John Middleton, their landlord and Mrs. Dashwood's cousin, soon comes to visit; he is very kind, and glad to see that they are there, and somewhat settled. He invites them up to dine at Barton Park until they are more at home, and insists that they visit him often there. Lady Middleton comes to visit them the next day; she is Sir John's wife, very elegant, though far more cold and reserved than her very friendly husband. After her visit, they are invited to Barton Park the next day, and accept the invitation.

This chapter highlights the theme of expectations vs. reality, for although Marianne expected to miss Norland terribly for a long time, and her mother expected their diminished circumstances to be very trying, both are able to cope admirably with their new circumstances. Adapting does not seem so hard as they had expected, especially with as kind a landlord and host as Sir John Middleton is. Still, this is a transition phase for the family, as they must accept a reduced income along with a reduced social standing. However, their tone remains relatively upbeat, as does Austen's when describing their new home and situation at Barton Cottage

After a gloomy journey, the Dashwoods arrive at Barton Cottage, their new home. It turns out to be a pretty nice place - it's not that impressive after their former grand abode at Norland, nor is it the romantic, picturesque story-book cottage they'd imagined, but it'll do. The Dashwood servants, who'd arrived earlier to set up the house, manage to cheer up the girls, and everyone actually feels OK about their new living situation. The family goes about its business settling in to the house and making plans for improvements . The next day, the girls meet their landlord/cousin, Sir John Middleton. He's a nice guy - maybe not the most graceful or elegant, but definitely a kind and good-natured man. Sir John's wife, Lady Middleton, is certainly elegant and lovely to look at, but she's not as personable as her husband; she's kind of a cold fish. Fortunately, Lady Middleton brings along the couple's oldest son on their visit to the cottage - and when you've got a bunch of women cooing over a little kid, there's always something to talk about. The Middletons leave, after asking the Dashwoods to dinner at their house, Barton Park, the next day.

The Dashwoods take possession of their cottage in the fertile Barton Valley, which is "well wooded and rich in pasture." Their new house is quite comfortable. Although Mrs. Dashwood is not completely satisfied with the cottage, she is happy that it can be turned into a suitable dwelling with just a few changes. Shortly after reaching their new home, they are welcomed by their landlord, Sir John Middleton. Later, they meet Lady Middleton and her children. John Middleton is spontaneous and warm, while his wife is cold and reserved. They both invite the Dashwoods to their house the next day.

Notes The scene shifts to the countryside. Barton Cottage is small, but it is surrounded by a beautiful landscape. The Dashwood girls approve of the cottage and admire its lush green environment. The place gives its inhabitants a sense of freedom. The people, too, are very welcoming. John Middleton's face "was thoroughly good-humored; and his manners were as friendly as the style of his letter." He is concerned and helpful. He does everything to make his new tenants feel comfortable in their surroundings. His wife is not as cordial as her husband, but to please him, she extends the hand of friendship to Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters. Jane Austen creates an irony of circumstance here. At Norland Estate, Mrs. Dashwood and her girls had been living in a familiar setting, yet they felt like strangers. At Barton, they find themselves in a strange setting, but they feel comfortable. Mr. John Dashwood, as the only brother to the Dashwood girls, was expected to see to their comfort and provide them security, but he failed to fulfill his responsibilities. But Sir John Middleton, distantly related to Mrs. Dashwood and almost a stranger to her daughters, treats them like a brother. He welcomes them to the estate, helps them to settle down and invites them to the Park. CHAPTER 7 Summary The chapter is devoted to the introduction of John Middleton's family. John Middleton is a happy-go-lucky man, whose lack of taste is compensated by his lively spirits and generous heart. He is a sportsman who spends his spare time in entertaining friends and acquaintances. He feels pride in cultivating friendship with cultured people like the Dashwoods. His fashionable wife is busy looking after her children and is always contented to talk about them. The Dashwoods are welcomed heartily by John Middleton when they arrive at the Park. He introduces them to his mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings, and Colonel Brandon. Mrs. Jennings is as delighted to meet the Dashwood family as John Middleton was, and she tries to entertain them to the best of her ability. Colonel Brandon keeps to himself. Marianne plays the piano and wins everyone's heart through her talent. Notes Jane Austen is at her ironic best when she describes John Middleton and his wife. The Middletons have different interests but resemble each other in their lack of taste and talent. In the words of Austen, "Sir John was a sportsman, Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she humored her children, and these were their only resources. Lady Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all the year round, while Sir John's independent employments were in existence only half the time. Continual engagements at home and abroad, however, supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education, supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise to the good breeding of his wife." The passage is full of subtle humor. Both Sir John and Lady Middleton are busy doing nothing. Just as hunting is a sport for John Middleton, mothering is a sport for Lady Middleton. While Sir John spends his time pursuing his hunting, his wife occupies herself by spoiling her children. Two more characters are introduced in the chapter. Mrs. Jennings is a merry old woman, who takes pleasure in joking with young ladies and gentleman. Colonel Brandon is placed in striking contrast to her. Unlike her, he is sober, self-restrained and reserved. He appreciates talent but refrains from voicing compliments. He is a perfect foil to Lady Jennings; they balance each other in the atmosphere of the scene. In this chapter Colonel Brandon meets Marianne, listens to her singing and falls in love with her. Marianne is unaware of his feelings for her. She ignores him, as she considers him too old for her company.


Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage.  The ladies had
passed near it in their way along the valley, but it was screened from
their view at home by the projection of a hill.  The house was large
and handsome; and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality
and elegance.  The former was for Sir John's gratification, the latter
for that of his lady.  They were scarcely ever without some friends
staying with them in the house, and they kept more company of every
kind than any other family in the neighbourhood.  It was necessary to
the happiness of both; for however dissimilar in temper and outward
behaviour, they strongly resembled each other in that total want of
talent and taste which confined their employments, unconnected with
such as society produced, within a very narrow compass.  Sir John was a
sportsman, Lady Middleton a mother.  He hunted and shot, and she
humoured her children; and these were their only resources.  Lady
Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all the
year round, while Sir John's independent employments were in existence
only half the time.  Continual engagements at home and abroad, however,
supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education; supported the
good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise to the good breeding of his
wife.

Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance of her table, and of
all her domestic arrangements; and from this kind of vanity was her
greatest enjoyment in any of their parties.  But Sir John's
satisfaction in society was much more real; he delighted in collecting
about him more young people than his house would hold, and the noisier
they were the better was he pleased.  He was a blessing to all the
juvenile part of the neighbourhood, for in summer he was for ever
forming parties to eat cold ham and chicken out of doors, and in winter
his private balls were numerous enough for any young lady who was not
suffering under the unsatiable appetite of fifteen.

The arrival of a new family in the country was always a matter of joy
to him, and in every point of view he was charmed with the inhabitants
he had now procured for his cottage at Barton.  The Miss Dashwoods were
young, pretty, and unaffected.  It was enough to secure his good
opinion; for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could want to
make her mind as captivating as her person.  The friendliness of his
disposition made him happy in accommodating those, whose situation
might be considered, in comparison with the past, as unfortunate.  In
showing kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction
of a good heart; and in settling a family of females only in his
cottage, he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman; for a sportsman,
though he esteems only those of his sex who are sportsmen likewise, is
not often desirous of encouraging their taste by admitting them to a
residence within his own manor.

Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door of the house by
Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton Park with unaffected sincerity;
and as he attended them to the drawing room repeated to the young
ladies the concern which the same subject had drawn from him the day
before, at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them.  They
would see, he said, only one gentleman there besides himself; a
particular friend who was staying at the park, but who was neither very
young nor very gay.  He hoped they would all excuse the smallness of
the party, and could assure them it should never happen so again.  He
had been to several families that morning in hopes of procuring some
addition to their number, but it was moonlight and every body was full
of engagements.  Luckily Lady Middleton's mother had arrived at Barton
within the last hour, and as she was a very cheerful agreeable woman,
he hoped the young ladies would not find it so very dull as they might
imagine.  The young ladies, as well as their mother, were perfectly
satisfied with having two entire strangers of the party, and wished for
no more.

Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's mother, was a good-humoured, merry,
fat, elderly woman, who talked a great deal, seemed very happy, and
rather vulgar.  She was full of jokes and laughter, and before dinner
was over had said many witty things on the subject of lovers and
husbands; hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex,
and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not.  Marianne was
vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned her eyes towards Elinor
to see how she bore these attacks, with an earnestness which gave
Elinor far more pain than could arise from such common-place raillery
as Mrs. Jennings's.

Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no more adapted by
resemblance of manner to be his friend, than Lady Middleton was to be
his wife, or Mrs. Jennings to be Lady Middleton's mother.  He was
silent and grave.  His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite
of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old
bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty; but though
his face was not handsome, his countenance was sensible, and his
address was particularly gentlemanlike.

There was nothing in any of the party which could recommend them as
companions to the Dashwoods; but the cold insipidity of Lady Middleton
was so particularly repulsive, that in comparison of it the gravity of
Colonel Brandon, and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his
mother-in-law was interesting.  Lady Middleton seemed to be roused to
enjoyment only by the entrance of her four noisy children after dinner,
who pulled her about, tore her clothes, and put an end to every kind of
discourse except what related to themselves.

In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, she was
invited to play.  The instrument was unlocked, every body prepared to
be charmed, and Marianne, who sang very well, at their request went
through the chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into
the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had lain ever since in
the same position on the pianoforte, for her ladyship had celebrated
that event by giving up music, although by her mother's account, she
had played extremely well, and by her own was very fond of it.

Marianne's performance was highly applauded.  Sir John was loud in his
admiration at the end of every song, and as loud in his conversation
with the others while every song lasted.  Lady Middleton frequently
called him to order, wondered how any one's attention could be diverted
from music for a moment, and asked Marianne to sing a particular song
which Marianne had just finished.  Colonel Brandon alone, of all the
party, heard her without being in raptures.  He paid her only the
compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him on the
occasion, which the others had reasonably forfeited by their shameless
want of taste.  His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that
ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, was
estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of the
others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five and
thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and every
exquisite power of enjoyment.  She was perfectly disposed to make every
allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life which humanity
required.

Barton Park is a very open and elegant home, and Sir John and his wife are never without a good many guests. Sir John's sole occupation is hunting, and his wife's is raising their children; they have guests and travel to otherwise entertain themselves. Sir John is genuinely fond of the Dashwood girls, since they are pretty and "unaffected," as he calls them; he is kind to them out of the goodness of his heart, and enjoys their company. When the Dashwoods arrive, they meet two people at Barton, which is much fewer than Sir John would liked to have had; one is Mrs. Jennings, Sir John's mother-in-law, who is a merry, somewhat vulgar older woman, who delights in jokes and general merriment. They also meet Colonel Brandon, one of Sir John's old friends; he is a gentleman and a bachelor, and although rather silent and serious, is not unpleasing to them. Marianne plays for the party after dinner, and is pleased at Colonel Brandon's silent attention, compared to the blabbering of Sir John and his mother-in-law, and the pretenses of Lady Middleton.

Sir John Middleton seems to symbolize the best of upper class society, while his wife represents the usual rich person. While Sir John is genuinely kind and enjoys having guests and socializing, his wife is more preoccupied with elegance, planning suitably impressive gatherings, and being generally polite company. Lady Middleton is dull and plain, like many of the upper class; she may be polite, elegant, and refined, but as Austen observes, she also seems to have had the life polished out of her. Sir John, while more of an anomaly, manages to combine the riches and pursuits of the upper class with real friendliness and personality; he might represent what this class of people could be, if not preoccupied with vanity and appearances to an overwhelming extent. It seems very strange that Marianne and Elinor regard the 35-year-old Colonel Brandon as being an old bachelor; but, it is easy to forget that they are 17 and 19 respectively, and that life expectancy was shorter back then. Marriages were usually made at a younger age as well, at least for women. But, Marianne regards Colonel Brandon's age with such exaggeration that it makes Marianne look quite silly and naive. She comments to herself on Colonel Brandon's "advanced state of life" as if he were a man of sixty or seventy, and Austen's wry tone in communicating this thought makes Marianne's misjudgment quite humorous

Barton Park is a rather lovely place - Sir John and Lady Middleton have life pretty much figured out. It's both comfortable and beautiful, and both of them seem perfectly happy there. Each of them has a hobby - his is hunting, and hers is spoiling their children. It all works out. Lady Middleton delights in the elegance of her home, and Sir John loves just hanging out with people, so they're a pretty social pair; parties and balls are frequent occurrences in the Middleton home. The arrival of new friends, the Dashwoods, just tickles Sir John pink, and he's pleased to welcome them to his home. Also visiting Barton Park is Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's hilariously cheerful mother. She's so cheerful, in fact, that nobody is quite sure what to make of her . A friend of Sir John's, Colonel Brandon, also joins the family for dinner. He's very serious, and a real gentleman, but Marianne and Margaret instantly dismiss him as being ancient . Compared to these other guests, Lady Middleton is particularly dull and unappealing. She only livens up when her bratty kids make an entrance. After dinner, Marianne is asked to play the piano - everyone loves it. The Middletons respond with enthusiasm , but Colonel Brandon, who obviously appreciates music as much as Marianne does, pays attention politely and respectfully. Marianne is forced to admit to herself that he's a good guy, despite his old age.


Mrs. Jennings was a widow with an ample jointure.  She had only two
daughters, both of whom she had lived to see respectably married, and
she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the
world.  In the promotion of this object she was zealously active, as
far as her ability reached; and missed no opportunity of projecting
weddings among all the young people of her acquaintance.  She was
remarkably quick in the discovery of attachments, and had enjoyed the
advantage of raising the blushes and the vanity of many a young lady by
insinuations of her power over such a young man; and this kind of
discernment enabled her soon after her arrival at Barton decisively to
pronounce that Colonel Brandon was very much in love with Marianne
Dashwood.  She rather suspected it to be so, on the very first evening
of their being together, from his listening so attentively while she
sang to them; and when the visit was returned by the Middletons' dining
at the cottage, the fact was ascertained by his listening to her again.
It must be so.  She was perfectly convinced of it.  It would be an
excellent match, for HE was rich, and SHE was handsome.  Mrs. Jennings
had been anxious to see Colonel Brandon well married, ever since her
connection with Sir John first brought him to her knowledge; and she
was always anxious to get a good husband for every pretty girl.

The immediate advantage to herself was by no means inconsiderable, for
it supplied her with endless jokes against them both.  At the park she
laughed at the colonel, and in the cottage at Marianne.  To the former
her raillery was probably, as far as it regarded only himself,
perfectly indifferent; but to the latter it was at first
incomprehensible; and when its object was understood, she hardly knew
whether most to laugh at its absurdity, or censure its impertinence,
for she considered it as an unfeeling reflection on the colonel's
advanced years, and on his forlorn condition as an old bachelor.

Mrs. Dashwood, who could not think a man five years younger than
herself, so exceedingly ancient as he appeared to the youthful fancy of
her daughter, ventured to clear Mrs. Jennings from the probability of
wishing to throw ridicule on his age.

"But at least, Mama, you cannot deny the absurdity of the accusation,
though you may not think it intentionally ill-natured.  Colonel Brandon
is certainly younger than Mrs. Jennings, but he is old enough to be MY
father; and if he were ever animated enough to be in love, must have
long outlived every sensation of the kind.  It is too ridiculous!  When
is a man to be safe from such wit, if age and infirmity will not
protect him?"

"Infirmity!" said Elinor, "do you call Colonel Brandon infirm?  I can
easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my
mother; but you can hardly deceive yourself as to his having the use of
his limbs!"

"Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism?  and is not that the
commonest infirmity of declining life?"

"My dearest child," said her mother, laughing, "at this rate you must
be in continual terror of MY decay; and it must seem to you a miracle
that my life has been extended to the advanced age of forty."

"Mama, you are not doing me justice.  I know very well that Colonel
Brandon is not old enough to make his friends yet apprehensive of
losing him in the course of nature.  He may live twenty years longer.
But thirty-five has nothing to do with matrimony."

"Perhaps," said Elinor, "thirty-five and seventeen had better not have
any thing to do with matrimony together.  But if there should by any
chance happen to be a woman who is single at seven and twenty, I should
not think Colonel Brandon's being thirty-five any objection to his
marrying HER."

"A woman of seven and twenty," said Marianne, after pausing a moment,
"can never hope to feel or inspire affection again, and if her home be
uncomfortable, or her fortune small, I can suppose that she might bring
herself to submit to the offices of a nurse, for the sake of the
provision and security of a wife.  In his marrying such a woman
therefore there would be nothing unsuitable.  It would be a compact of
convenience, and the world would be satisfied.  In my eyes it would be
no marriage at all, but that would be nothing.  To me it would seem
only a commercial exchange, in which each wished to be benefited at the
expense of the other."

"It would be impossible, I know," replied Elinor, "to convince you that
a woman of seven and twenty could feel for a man of thirty-five
anything near enough to love, to make him a desirable companion to her.
But I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and his wife to the
constant confinement of a sick chamber, merely because he chanced to
complain yesterday (a very cold damp day) of a slight rheumatic feel in
one of his shoulders."

"But he talked of flannel waistcoats," said Marianne; "and with me a
flannel waistcoat is invariably connected with aches, cramps,
rheumatisms, and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and
the feeble."

"Had he been only in a violent fever, you would not have despised him
half so much.  Confess, Marianne, is not there something interesting to
you in the flushed cheek, hollow eye, and quick pulse of a fever?"

Soon after this, upon Elinor's leaving the room, "Mama," said
Marianne, "I have an alarm on the subject of illness which I cannot
conceal from you.  I am sure Edward Ferrars is not well.  We have now
been here almost a fortnight, and yet he does not come.  Nothing but
real indisposition could occasion this extraordinary delay.  What else
can detain him at Norland?"

"Had you any idea of his coming so soon?" said Mrs. Dashwood.  "I had
none.  On the contrary, if I have felt any anxiety at all on the
subject, it has been in recollecting that he sometimes showed a want of
pleasure and readiness in accepting my invitation, when I talked of his
coming to Barton.  Does Elinor expect him already?"

"I have never mentioned it to her, but of course she must."

"I rather think you are mistaken, for when I was talking to her
yesterday of getting a new grate for the spare bedchamber, she observed
that there was no immediate hurry for it, as it was not likely that the
room would be wanted for some time."

"How strange this is! what can be the meaning of it!  But the whole of
their behaviour to each other has been unaccountable! How cold, how
composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the
last evening of their being together! In Edward's farewell there was no
distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an
affectionate brother to both.  Twice did I leave them purposely
together in the course of the last morning, and each time did he most
unaccountably follow me out of the room.  And Elinor, in quitting
Norland and Edward, cried not as I did.  Even now her self-command is
invariable.  When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to
avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?"

Mrs. Jennings is a widow with two married daughters, with leaves her with no other occupation, Austen says, than to try and marry off everyone else. She is convinced that Colonel Brandon is in love with Marianne, and decides to get them together, since she believes they are an agreeable match. Marianne soon perceives Mrs. Jennings' intent, and is taken aback that Mrs. Jennings thinks that such an old man would be a good match for her. But Marianne is distracted from this issue by thoughts of Elinor and Edward's attachment; he has not yet visited them, which makes Marianne fear that he is not well. Marianne and her mother question Elinor and Edward's behavior when they parted, which indicated nothing more than friendship between them; they suspect that something might have come between them, though Elinor of course refuses to talk.

Mrs. Jennings is a portrait of the busybody aristocratic woman, who, having no hobbies and no occupation, must amuse herself with social interests. Austen's tone ridicules this preoccupation of Mrs. Jennings', and her completely unfounded opinion that Colonel Brandon is in love with Marianne. Mrs. Jennings is a younger parallel to Austen's Emma in her choice of entertainment and her quickness to jump to conclusions, and also because both women take up their duties as much for self-gratification as for a wish to help couples get together. Once again, Marianne poses her impulsive, ill-informed attack on Colonel Brandon's age; since she herself is a passionate romantic, it is ironic that she thinks someone who is only 27 would no longer be able to feel passion. Marianne's belief that Colonel Brandon is old and must be unhealthy is excessive and not fully considered; as usual, she says exactly what she thinks, and does not pause to weigh and censor her comments as cautious Elinor tends to do

Mrs. Jennings is a chatty old gossip with a heart of gold. Having found husbands for her two daughters, she now embarks upon the mission of marrying off all the other eligible young ladies of her acquaintance. Next up: Elinor and Marianne. Mrs. Jennings is certain that Colonel Brandon is head over heels in love with Marianne. She immediately decides that they should get married. She then delights in poking fun at both sides of this pair - much to everyone's embarrassment. Marianne finds Mrs. Jennings' jokes both funny and offensive, given Colonel Brandon's advanced age. Mrs. Dashwood finds it necessary to remind her ageist daughter that the guy isn't exactly at death's door. Marianne counters that he's old enough to be her father - shouldn't his "age and infirmity" protect him from mockery? Here, Elinor also steps in to defend the Colonel, who, it must be said, is far from "infirm," even if he has rheumatism. Marianne, rather heartlessly, admits that Colonel Brandon isn't about to die , but claims that a man of 35 shouldn't be thinking about marriage at his age. Elinor cautiously agrees that perhaps a man his age shouldn't marry a young girl, but that he should be allowed to marry an older lady of 27 or so. Marianne concedes that this would be OK - after all, a woman who's unmarried at 27 is practically dead to the world, so it would be a marriage of convenience, in which the couple could provide company for each other in their declining years. We have to wonder what Marianne would think of marriage in our modern world - after all, it's not unusual for men and women to get married after 30 nowadays! Elinor tries futilely to convince her sister that 30 isn't the end of life as we know it, then gives up and heads out. Once her sister's gone, Marianne brings up Edward Ferrars - he hasn't come to visit them at Barton Cottage yet. What could possibly be preventing him? Marianne can't understand her sister's apparent lack of emotion with regards to her erstwhile suitor. Doesn't Elinor feel anything at all?

This chapter gives an extended character sketch of Mrs. Jennings. Wealthy and contented, she is anxious to see young men and women settled in life. Thus, when she spots Colonel Brandon admiring Marianne as she is playing the piano, she immediately pairs them up as a suitable couple. She voices her thoughts aloud to both Brandon and Marianne. While the Colonel ignores her remarks, Marianne expresses shock at the suggestion. She rejects the Colonel on the basis of his age and his reserved temperament. Elinor, though, does not agree with her sister.

Notes Mrs. Jennings is a typical matron: she delights in making matches between eligible men and women. She is happy to gain the acquaintance of the Dashwood girls. When she observes the Colonel admiring Marianne's talent, she concludes that Brandon is in love with the girl. She amuses herself by teasing both Marianne and the Colonel. Austen once again points out the difference in the attitudes of the two sisters. Elinor, with her better judgment, is able to assess the merits of Brandon and finds him an eligible bachelor. Marianne, fed on romantic literature, does not find the Colonel exciting enough to capture her heart. She discards the idea of him as a match for herself because he is twice her age and does not display vigor and enthusiasm. CHAPTER 9 Summary The Dashwoods settle down to a life of peace and contentment. They keep themselves occupied, and John Middleton visits them frequently. One morning, while Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor are engaged in the household duties, Marianne and Margaret venture out to explore the countryside. They get carried away by the beauty of the natural surroundings and start climbing up a hill, despite the rough weather. Suddenly it starts raining, and they head towards home. Marianne misses her step, twists her ankle and falls down. A gentleman riding by takes pity on her and carries her to her house. He introduces himself as Willoughby, from Allenham. He impresses everyone with his appearance and charming manners, and Marianne is smitten. Later in the day, when John Middleton pays them a visit, the family floods him with questions about Willoughby. Sir John talks favorably of the dashing young man. Notes The theme of love is developed. Jane Austen convincingly constructs a situation in which Marianne gets to meet the 'hero' of her dreams. Elinor has already met a good man; it is time for Marianne to find her partner. Marianne's accident, and her rescue by a knight in shining armor, resembles a scene from a fairy tale or romantic fiction. Marianne is overpowered by the striking appearance and charming manners of Willoughby. He is everything Marianne has wanted in a man: he is handsome, dashing and chivalrous. The chapter thus introduces another main character. Willoughby is a man with charm and vitality; he easily impresses beautiful girls like Marianne. His imposing presence is in direct contrast to the subdued character of the Colonel. John Middleton feels sorry for the Colonel and hopes that Marianne will realize his worth. CHAPTER 10 Summary Chapter 10 highlights the character of Willoughby and places him in further contrast to Colonel Brandon. Willoughby slowly but surely captures Marianne's heart with his enchanting ways. He also wins the approval of Mrs. Dashwood. Only Elinor is restrained in her praise for him. She is able to gauge Colonel Brandon's true feelings for Marianne, and thus feels sorry for him. She also feels hurt by the manner in which both Willoughby and Marianne ridicule the Colonel. Notes Marianne finds Willoughby an ideal suitor and is happy to seek his favor. However, Elinor is able to see through his superficial conduct. She observes that he is impulsive, prejudiced and opinionated, much like her sister. He speaks before he thinks, and he thoughtlessly hurts the Colonel's feelings with his careless remarks. Austen reveals Elinor's maturity by having her analyze the characters of Willoughby and the Colonel. She understands the real worth of the Colonel and values his sentiments. She considers him to be "a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, of gentle address, and--an amiable heart." She ranks him higher as a man than Willoughby. This chapter hints at the fate of Marianne in the hands of Willoughby. Elinor, as Austen's mouthpiece, conveys her apprehension about this shallow and ostentatious man.


The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to
themselves.  The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding
them, were now become familiar, and the ordinary pursuits which had
given to Norland half its charms were engaged in again with far greater
enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford, since the loss of their
father.  Sir John Middleton, who called on them every day for the first
fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much occupation at
home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed.

Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many; for, in
spite of Sir John's urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the
neighbourhood, and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at
their service, the independence of Mrs. Dashwood's spirit overcame the
wish of society for her children; and she was resolute in declining to
visit any family beyond the distance of a walk.  There were but few who
could be so classed; and it was not all of them that were attainable.
About a mile and a half from the cottage, along the narrow winding
valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton, as formerly
described, the girls had, in one of their earliest walks, discovered an
ancient respectable looking mansion which, by reminding them a little
of Norland, interested their imagination and made them wish to be
better acquainted with it.  But they learnt, on enquiry, that its
possessor, an elderly lady of very good character, was unfortunately
too infirm to mix with the world, and never stirred from home.

The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks.  The high
downs which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to
seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on their summits, were a happy
alternative when the dirt of the valleys beneath shut up their superior
beauties; and towards one of these hills did Marianne and Margaret one
memorable morning direct their steps, attracted by the partial sunshine
of a showery sky, and unable longer to bear the confinement which the
settled rain of the two preceding days had occasioned.  The weather was
not tempting enough to draw the two others from their pencil and their
book, in spite of Marianne's declaration that the day would be
lastingly fair, and that every threatening cloud would be drawn off
from their hills; and the two girls set off together.

They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own penetration at
every glimpse of blue sky; and when they caught in their faces the
animating gales of a high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears
which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such
delightful sensations.

"Is there a felicity in the world," said Marianne, "superior to
this?--Margaret, we will walk here at least two hours."

Margaret agreed, and they pursued their way against the wind, resisting
it with laughing delight for about twenty minutes longer, when suddenly
the clouds united over their heads, and a driving rain set full in
their face.-- Chagrined and surprised, they were obliged, though
unwillingly, to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their own
house.  One consolation however remained for them, to which the
exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety; it was that of
running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which
led immediately to their garden gate.

They set off.  Marianne had at first the advantage, but a false step
brought her suddenly to the ground; and Margaret, unable to stop
herself to assist her, was involuntarily hurried along, and reached the
bottom in safety.

A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was
passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne, when her
accident happened.  He put down his gun and ran to her assistance.  She
had raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been twisted in
her fall, and she was scarcely able to stand.  The gentleman offered
his services; and perceiving that her modesty declined what her
situation rendered necessary, took her up in his arms without farther
delay, and carried her down the hill.  Then passing through the garden,
the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he bore her directly
into the house, whither Margaret was just arrived, and quitted not his
hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour.

Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at their entrance, and while
the eyes of both were fixed on him with an evident wonder and a secret
admiration which equally sprung from his appearance, he apologized for
his intrusion by relating its cause, in a manner so frank and so
graceful that his person, which was uncommonly handsome, received
additional charms from his voice and expression.  Had he been even old,
ugly, and vulgar, the gratitude and kindness of Mrs. Dashwood would
have been secured by any act of attention to her child; but the
influence of youth, beauty, and elegance, gave an interest to the
action which came home to her feelings.

She thanked him again and again; and, with a sweetness of address which
always attended her, invited him to be seated.  But this he declined,
as he was dirty and wet.  Mrs. Dashwood then begged to know to whom she
was obliged.  His name, he replied, was Willoughby, and his present
home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would allow him the
honour of calling tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood.  The honour
was readily granted, and he then departed, to make himself still more
interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain.

His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness were instantly the
theme of general admiration, and the laugh which his gallantry raised
against Marianne received particular spirit from his exterior
attractions.-- Marianne herself had seen less of his Mama the
rest, for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his lifting
her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their
entering the house.  But she had seen enough of him to join in all the
admiration of the others, and with an energy which always adorned her
praise.  His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn
for the hero of a favourite story; and in his carrying her into the
house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of
thought which particularly recommended the action to her.  Every
circumstance belonging to him was interesting.  His name was good, his
residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that
of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming.  Her
imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, and the pain of a
sprained ankle was disregarded.

Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval of fair weather
that morning allowed him to get out of doors; and Marianne's accident
being related to him, he was eagerly asked whether he knew any
gentleman of the name of Willoughby at Allenham.

"Willoughby!" cried Sir John; "what, is HE in the country? That is good
news however; I will ride over tomorrow, and ask him to dinner on
Thursday."

"You know him then," said Mrs. Dashwood.

"Know him! to be sure I do.  Why, he is down here every year."

"And what sort of a young man is he?"

"As good a kind of fellow as ever lived, I assure you.  A very decent
shot, and there is not a bolder rider in England."

"And is that all you can say for him?" cried Marianne, indignantly.
"But what are his manners on more intimate acquaintance? What his
pursuits, his talents, and genius?"

Sir John was rather puzzled.

"Upon my soul," said he, "I do not know much about him as to all THAT.
But he is a pleasant, good humoured fellow, and has got the nicest
little black bitch of a pointer I ever saw.  Was she out with him
today?"

But Marianne could no more satisfy him as to the colour of Mr.
Willoughby's pointer, than he could describe to her the shades of his
mind.

"But who is he?" said Elinor.  "Where does he come from?  Has he a
house at Allenham?"

On this point Sir John could give more certain intelligence; and he
told them that Mr. Willoughby had no property of his own in the
country; that he resided there only while he was visiting the old lady
at Allenham Court, to whom he was related, and whose possessions he was
to inherit; adding, "Yes, yes, he is very well worth catching I can
tell you, Miss Dashwood; he has a pretty little estate of his own in
Somersetshire besides; and if I were you, I would not give him up to my
younger sister, in spite of all this tumbling down hills.  Miss
Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself.  Brandon will
be jealous, if she does not take care."

"I do not believe," said Mrs. Dashwood, with a good humoured smile,
"that Mr. Willoughby will be incommoded by the attempts of either of MY
daughters towards what you call CATCHING him.  It is not an employment
to which they have been brought up.  Men are very safe with us, let
them be ever so rich.  I am glad to find, however, from what you say,
that he is a respectable young man, and one whose acquaintance will not
be ineligible."

"He is as good a sort of fellow, I believe, as ever lived," repeated
Sir John.  "I remember last Christmas at a little hop at the park, he
danced from eight o'clock till four, without once sitting down."

"Did he indeed?" cried Marianne with sparkling eyes, "and with
elegance, with spirit?"

"Yes; and he was up again at eight to ride to covert."

"That is what I like; that is what a young man ought to be.  Whatever
be his pursuits, his eagerness in them should know no moderation, and
leave him no sense of fatigue."

"Aye, aye, I see how it will be," said Sir John, "I see how it will be.
You will be setting your cap at him now, and never think of poor
Brandon."

"That is an expression, Sir John," said Marianne, warmly, "which I
particularly dislike.  I abhor every common-place phrase by which wit
is intended; and 'setting one's cap at a man,' or 'making a conquest,'
are the most odious of all.  Their tendency is gross and illiberal; and
if their construction could ever be deemed clever, time has long ago
destroyed all its ingenuity."

Sir John did not much understand this reproof; but he laughed as
heartily as if he did, and then replied,

"Ay, you will make conquests enough, I dare say, one way or other.
Poor Brandon! he is quite smitten already, and he is very well worth
setting your cap at, I can tell you, in spite of all this tumbling
about and spraining of ankles."

The family is now settled at Barton Cottage, and much happier there than they were at Norland after Mr. Dashwood's death. The Dashwoods keep busy and are usually about the cottage, though Sir John visits often and offers them the use of his carriage to make social calls. The girls especially like to go walking about the beautiful countryside, and one day Marianne and Margaret decide to go walking despite the threat of rainy weather. When it does start to rain heavily, they begin to run back toward home; however, Marianne stumbles and twists an ankle and cannot walk. A man who sees the accident comes to their rescue, and carries Marianne home while Margaret follows. Elinor and Mrs. Dashwood are startled by his sudden appearance, but he is charming and handsome and quickly wins them over. Mrs. Dashwood thanks him, and despite her invitation to stay, he insists he must leave; he says his name is Willoughby, is staying at the nearby estate of Allenham, and will call the next day to inquire after Marianne's condition. Sir John visits and is told of the incident and of Willoughby; he can tell them little of his personality, but informs them that he is staying with his aunt at Allenham and is set to inherit the whole estate. Sir John assures them that he is a good man and well worth "catching," despite Marianne's assertions that she isn't trying to catch anyone. Still, Sir John is sorry for his friend the Colonel, since he deserves a good wife like one of the Dashwood girls, and already he is being ignored as a suitor.

At this point, Willoughby is little more than the stock "romantic stranger" character thrown into some novels; he appears conveniently, and nothing is known about him. But, the fact that Willoughby appears to be the perfect romantic figure also foreshadows that he will of course have failings; he has to be too good to be true, or else he cannot be a realistic character at all. Mrs. Dashwood's insistence that her daughters are not out to "catch" their husbands is disingenuous and somewhat ironic, given that finding husbands is truly their greatest concern. The appearance of Willoughby highlights the theme of marriage in the work; it is an economic and social imperative that Elinor and Marianne get married in the near future, and that each eligible man in the novel so far is discussed in terms of suitability as a marriage prospect highlights the necessity and urgency of this concern. Elinor and Marianne must be on a constant lookout for a suitable husband, lest they end up impoverished and unattached later in life. Sir John's comments about Col. Brandon are foreshadowing here; the fact that he is thoroughly decent and worthy means that he will probably be better regarded in the long run as a desirable suitor

Everything settles down at Barton Cottage as the Dashwoods get used to their new home. They're always busy with household duties, and they don't really have much in the way of a social life. Sir John is their only frequent visitor, and there aren't too many people who live in the area. There is a beautiful old mansion in nearby Allenham that reminds them of Norland, but they haven't yet met its inhabitants. The countryside is truly gorgeous, and the girls take advantage of it by taking long walks. One day, Marianne and Margaret go out to walk the hills and take in the sights. After about twenty delightful minutes, the sisters are surprised by a sudden rainstorm. They turn back to head home, and take this opportunity to have some fun and race down the steep hill that leads to their gate. Unfortunately, Marianne twists her ankle and tumbles down the hill. Margaret, carried by her momentum, can't stop to help her sister. Fortunately, someone else is there to lend a hand. A young man, who's clearly been out hunting, stops to assist the damsel in distress. He carries her back to the house, and makes sure she's comfortably seated in the parlour. Elinor and her mother are shocked by this stranger's arrival. They're both immediately charmed by his manners and appearance - he's young, handsome, and courteous. In short, he's the ideal bachelor. The young man introduces himself as Willoughby, and says that he lives in the mansion the Dashwoods admired at Allenham. He tactfully departs after asking if he can stop by the next day to make sure Marianne's OK. Everyone is immediately charmed by Willoughby. Marianne is particularly taken by both what she knows about him and what she imagines him to be like. Sir John shows up, and the girls immediately ask him about their new friend. Sir John gives him the thumbs up - he can't say much about the Willoughby's character or talents, but he's got a really fantastic hunting dog, which puts him in Sir John's good book. Apparently, Willoughby doesn't actually live at Allenham all year round, but is there visiting his aunt. He's due to inherit the house there, and also has his own estate in Somerset. Sir John tells the girls that Willoughby is quite a catch. Marianne takes a bit of offense at the idea that she might be out to "catch" a man, but we can see that she totally is, even if she herself doesn't realize it.

The Dashwoods soon settled at Barton "with tolerable comfort to themselves." The lack of a carriage prevented them from visiting the neighborhood families, but the girls enjoyed many walks in the beautiful countryside. They were particularly fond of the valley of Allenham, where there was an old mansion which reminded them of their former home. It was owned by "an elderly lady of very good character . . . unfortunately too infirm to mix with the world." One day Marianne and Margaret were caught in a downpour. Running downhill, Marianne stumbled and fell; however, a young gentleman going uphill picked her up, carried her home, "and quitted not his hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour." Mrs. Dashwood was greatly impressed by the young man's "youth, beauty and elegance." She learned that his name was Willoughby "and that his present home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would allow him the honour of calling tomorrow to inquire after Miss Dashwood." After he had taken his leave, Marianne joined with her mother and Elinor in admiring Willoughby's "manly beauty and more than common gracefulness." Marianne believed that his "person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn for the hero of a favourite story. . . . Every circumstance belonging to him was interesting." When Sir John called the next day, the ladies discovered from him that "Mr. Willoughby had no property of his own in the country; that he resided there only while he was visiting the old lady at Allenham Court, to whom he was related, and whose possessions he was to inherit." In his usual hearty manner, Sir John began to tease Marianne about her rescuer: "I see how it will be. You will be setting your cap at him now, and never think of poor Brandon." Marianne reproved him warmly for using such expressions. Sir John, not understanding, only laughed and continued his bantering.

Willoughby seems to answer all of Marianne's romantic notions. He is handsome, gallant, and is to inherit a lovely estate that reminds the girls of their own Norland Park. He is indefatigable in his exuberance, able to dance from eight until four "without once sitting down." The way in which they meet is out of a chivalric romance -- he rescues her from danger and goes out again to brave it alone. Notice that although Marianne is highly critical, her criticism is aimed at those whose sensibilities do not accord with hers. We will see, in Marianne's later attitude towards Willoughby, how incapable she is of any real objectivity. Sir John, like Mrs. Jennings, represents a good-natured but crude individual. Although he means no harm, his insensitivity to other people often causes pain. In this chapter, his humor is aimed at Marianne, who reproves him warmly for his crassness. But crude as they are, many of his observations have an aura of unpleasant truth which we cannot ignore as the novel progresses.


Marianne's preserver, as Margaret, with more elegance than precision,
styled Willoughby, called at the cottage early the next morning to make
his personal enquiries.  He was received by Mrs. Dashwood with more
than politeness; with a kindness which Sir John's account of him and
her own gratitude prompted; and every thing that passed during the
visit tended to assure him of the sense, elegance, mutual affection,
and domestic comfort of the family to whom accident had now introduced
him.  Of their personal charms he had not required a second interview
to be convinced.

Miss Dashwood had a delicate complexion, regular features, and a
remarkably pretty figure.  Marianne was still handsomer.  Her form,
though not so correct as her sister's, in having the advantage of
height, was more striking; and her face was so lovely, that when in the
common cant of praise, she was called a beautiful girl, truth was less
violently outraged than usually happens.  Her skin was very brown, but,
from its transparency, her complexion was uncommonly brilliant; her
features were all good; her smile was sweet and attractive; and in her
eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, a spirit, an eagerness,
which could hardily be seen without delight.  From Willoughby their
expression was at first held back, by the embarrassment which the
remembrance of his assistance created.  But when this passed away, when
her spirits became collected, when she saw that to the perfect
good-breeding of the gentleman, he united frankness and vivacity, and
above all, when she heard him declare, that of music and dancing he was
passionately fond, she gave him such a look of approbation as secured
the largest share of his discourse to herself for the rest of his stay.

It was only necessary to mention any favourite amusement to engage her
to talk.  She could not be silent when such points were introduced, and
she had neither shyness nor reserve in their discussion.  They speedily
discovered that their enjoyment of dancing and music was mutual, and
that it arose from a general conformity of judgment in all that related
to either.  Encouraged by this to a further examination of his
opinions, she proceeded to question him on the subject of books; her
favourite authors were brought forward and dwelt upon with so rapturous
a delight, that any young man of five and twenty must have been
insensible indeed, not to become an immediate convert to the excellence
of such works, however disregarded before.  Their taste was strikingly
alike.  The same books, the same passages were idolized by each--or if
any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no longer than
till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her eyes could be
displayed.  He acquiesced in all her decisions, caught all her
enthusiasm; and long before his visit concluded, they conversed with
the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance.

"Well, Marianne," said Elinor, as soon as he had left them, "for ONE
morning I think you have done pretty well.  You have already
ascertained Mr. Willoughby's opinion in almost every matter of
importance.  You know what he thinks of Cowper and Scott; you are
certain of his estimating their beauties as he ought, and you have
received every assurance of his admiring Pope no more than is proper.
But how is your acquaintance to be long supported, under such
extraordinary despatch of every subject for discourse?  You will soon
have exhausted each favourite topic.  Another meeting will suffice to
explain his sentiments on picturesque beauty, and second marriages, and
then you can have nothing farther to ask."--

"Elinor," cried Marianne, "is this fair? is this just? are my ideas so
scanty?  But I see what you mean.  I have been too much at my ease, too
happy, too frank.  I have erred against every common-place notion of
decorum; I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been
reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful--had I talked only of the
weather and the roads, and had I spoken only once in ten minutes, this
reproach would have been spared."

"My love," said her mother, "you must not be offended with Elinor--she
was only in jest.  I should scold her myself, if she were capable of
wishing to check the delight of your conversation with our new
friend."-- Marianne was softened in a moment.

Willoughby, on his side, gave every proof of his pleasure in their
acquaintance, which an evident wish of improving it could offer.  He
came to them every day.  To enquire after Marianne was at first his
excuse; but the encouragement of his reception, to which every day gave
greater kindness, made such an excuse unnecessary before it had ceased
to be possible, by Marianne's perfect recovery.  She was confined for
some days to the house; but never had any confinement been less
irksome.  Willoughby was a young man of good abilities, quick
imagination, lively spirits, and open, affectionate manners.  He was
exactly formed to engage Marianne's heart, for with all this, he joined
not only a captivating person, but a natural ardour of mind which was
now roused and increased by the example of her own, and which
recommended him to her affection beyond every thing else.

His society became gradually her most exquisite enjoyment.  They read,
they talked, they sang together; his musical talents were considerable;
and he read with all the sensibility and spirit which Edward had
unfortunately wanted.

In Mrs. Dashwood's estimation he was as faultless as in Marianne's; and
Elinor saw nothing to censure in him but a propensity, in which he
strongly resembled and peculiarly delighted her sister, of saying too
much what he thought on every occasion, without attention to persons or
circumstances.  In hastily forming and giving his opinion of other
people, in sacrificing general politeness to the enjoyment of undivided
attention where his heart was engaged, and in slighting too easily the
forms of worldly propriety, he displayed a want of caution which Elinor
could not approve, in spite of all that he and Marianne could say in
its support.

Marianne began now to perceive that the desperation which had seized
her at sixteen and a half, of ever seeing a man who could satisfy her
ideas of perfection, had been rash and unjustifiable.  Willoughby was
all that her fancy had delineated in that unhappy hour and in every
brighter period, as capable of attaching her; and his behaviour
declared his wishes to be in that respect as earnest, as his abilities
were strong.

Her mother too, in whose mind not one speculative thought of their
marriage had been raised, by his prospect of riches, was led before the
end of a week to hope and expect it; and secretly to congratulate
herself on having gained two such sons-in-law as Edward and Willoughby.

Colonel Brandon's partiality for Marianne, which had so early been
discovered by his friends, now first became perceptible to Elinor, when
it ceased to be noticed by them.  Their attention and wit were drawn
off to his more fortunate rival; and the raillery which the other had
incurred before any partiality arose, was removed when his feelings
began really to call for the ridicule so justly annexed to sensibility.
Elinor was obliged, though unwillingly, to believe that the sentiments
which Mrs. Jennings had assigned him for her own satisfaction, were now
actually excited by her sister; and that however a general resemblance
of disposition between the parties might forward the affection of Mr.
Willoughby, an equally striking opposition of character was no
hindrance to the regard of Colonel Brandon.  She saw it with concern;
for what could a silent man of five and thirty hope, when opposed to a
very lively one of five and twenty? and as she could not even wish him
successful, she heartily wished him indifferent.  She liked him--in
spite of his gravity and reserve, she beheld in him an object of
interest.  His manners, though serious, were mild; and his reserve
appeared rather the result of some oppression of spirits than of any
natural gloominess of temper.  Sir John had dropped hints of past
injuries and disappointments, which justified her belief of his being
an unfortunate man, and she regarded him with respect and compassion.

Perhaps she pitied and esteemed him the more because he was slighted by
Willoughby and Marianne, who, prejudiced against him for being neither
lively nor young, seemed resolved to undervalue his merits.

"Brandon is just the kind of man," said Willoughby one day, when they
were talking of him together, "whom every body speaks well of, and
nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers
to talk to."

"That is exactly what I think of him," cried Marianne.

"Do not boast of it, however," said Elinor, "for it is injustice in
both of you.  He is highly esteemed by all the family at the park, and
I never see him myself without taking pains 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
itself.  Who would submit to the indignity of being approved by such a
woman as Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, that could command the
indifference of any body else?"

"But perhaps the abuse of such people as yourself and Marianne will
make amends for the regard of Lady Middleton and her mother.  If their
praise is censure, your censure may be praise, for they are not more
undiscerning, than you are prejudiced and unjust."

"In defence of your protege you can even be saucy."

"My protege, 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 a great deal of the world; has been abroad, has
read, and has a thinking mind.  I have found him capable of giving me
much information on various subjects; and he has always answered my
inquiries with readiness of good-breeding and 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."

"He WOULD have told me so, I doubt not, had I made any such inquiries,
but they happened to be points on which I had been previously informed."

"Perhaps," said Willoughby, "his observations may have extended to the
existence of nabobs, gold mohrs, and palanquins."

"I may venture to say that HIS observations have stretched much further
than your candour.  But why should you dislike him?"

"I do not dislike him.  I consider him, on the contrary, as a very
respectable man, who has every body's good word, and nobody's notice;
who, has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to
employ, and two new coats every year."

"Add to which," cried Marianne, "that he has neither genius, taste, nor
spirit.  That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no
ardour, and his voice no expression."

"You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass," replied Elinor,
"and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the
commendation I am able to give of him is comparatively cold and
insipid.  I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred,
well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an amiable
heart."

"Miss Dashwood," cried Willoughby, "you are now using me unkindly.  You
are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, and to convince me against my
will.  But it will not do.  You shall find me as stubborn as you can be
artful.  I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel
Brandon; he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he has
found fault with the hanging of my curricle, and I cannot persuade him
to buy my brown mare.  If it will be any satisfaction to you, however,
to be told, that I believe his character to be in other respects
irreproachable, I am ready to confess it.  And in return for an
acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, you cannot deny me the
privilege of disliking him as much as ever."

Willoughby calls again the next morning, and the family are again convinced of his charms, as he comes to admire them, and Marianne in particular. Marianne sets about asking him about books, music, and dancing, and is pleased to learn that they have similar tastes and passion for the arts. Marianne and Willoughby are already at ease with each other after this first meeting, yet Marianne is reminded that perhaps she should not have been so forward with her views and affections on this first visit. Willoughby, however, admires Marianne very much and enjoys her family's hospitality; he begins to visit them everyday, as his attachment to Marianne deepens. Mrs. Dashwood thinks very well of him, although Elinor perceives a lack of discretion in his behavior and judgment that he should possess. Elinor is upset when Willoughby proceeds to slight Colonel Brandon, when Elinor knows that he is a good, kind man behind his reserve; Marianne and Willoughby underestimate him because he is older, more experienced, and reserved, although Elinor sees these as assets rather than hindrances, and continues to defend his character.

Marianne showing "neither shyness nor reserve" in her conversation with Willoughby is in keeping with her character, but asserts the importance of discretion in personal relations. Discretion is a theme which proves to be of some importance in society; revealing one's self too quickly or completely can lead to disappointment, embarrassment, or heartbreak, as Marianne is to learn all too soon. The disagreement of Elinor and Marianne on the subjects of discretion and decorum shows them to be the pure embodiments of sense and sensibility, respectively. Marianne lacks the prudence to be able and limit herself where she knows she should, and Elinor in turn lacks the boldness and passion to express her own feelings with confidence. Both would be better off developing a few of the other's qualities, learning how to temper passion with reason, and caution with emotion. Willoughby's outburst on the subject of Colonel Brandon foreshadows the discovery of some sort of bad blood between them. Willoughby's disregard for Colonel Brandon, like Marianne's, is impetuous and childlike in nature, but Willoughby's greater dislike indicates that there might be more to his slighting of Colonel Brandon than is readily apparent. Marianne and Willoughby's distaste for the Colonel is ironic, in view of their own failings; they might do better to imitate some of his reserve, rather than to spend time mocking it

The next morning, Willoughby stops by to check on Marianne. Everyone's all in a tizzy about him - the Dashwood ladies, mom included, are quite taken with him. He's also impressed by his new acquaintances, especially Marianne. Elinor, we learn, is very pretty, but Marianne is beautiful. Willoughby is obviously into her. Marianne and her suitor immediately discover that they've got an awful lot in common - they like the same music and books, and by the time he leaves, it's like they're old friends already. Elinor affectionately hassles her sister about her conversation with Willoughby; now that they've talked about all of Marianne's favorite things, what else can they possibly have to talk about? Marianne replies hotly, saying that she was just being open and up front, instead of beating about the bush like a prim, proper young lady. Their mother intervenes and diffuses the tension between sisters. Over the next several days, Willoughby and Marianne become pretty tight. He comes to visit every day, and it's obvious that the pair are made for each other. Mrs. Dashwood is also charmed by this new friend, and even critical Elinor can't find anything wrong with him . To Marianne and Mrs. Dashwood, Willoughby is absolutely the perfect man. In Mrs. Dashwood's eyes, Elinor and Marianne are practically married off already, to Edward Ferrars and Willoughby, respectively. Elinor, however, notices that poor Colonel Brandon really does have feelings for Marianne - feelings that Marianne definitely doesn't return. Even sadder is the fact that he can't possibly compete with the younger, more charismatic Willoughby. To make things worse, Willoughby and Marianne actually take pleasure in making fun of the Colonel, whom they consider to be old and boring. Elinor comes to the Colonel's defense, but Willoughby and Marianne will have none of it. Despite her claims that Colonel Brandon is practical, wise, and experienced, Willoughby insists on disliking him.

Willoughby called early next day, and he and Marianne had a long, lively conversation during which they discovered, to Marianne's rapture, that "their taste was strikingly alike." Marianne was soon captivated by Willoughby, who came to visit every day: "His society became gradually her most exquisite enjoyment. They read, they talked, they sang together." Mrs. Dashwood found Willoughby "faultless." Elinor saw little to disapprove of in him except "a propensity in which he strongly resembled and peculiarly delighted her sister, of saying too much what he thought on every occasion." In the meantime, Elinor began to notice Colonel Brandon's partiality for Marianne and was sorry for the older man. Hearing hints from Sir John about the colonel's "past injuries and disappointments," she regarded him "with respect and compassion." She saw that shielded by a mask of reserve was a strength of character that didn't deserve the censure that Willoughby and Marianne insisted on giving him. Elinor rebuked them, declaring him to be "a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, of gentle address . . . possessing an amiable heart." But they took her reproof lightly and continued to see the colonel as a subject for jesting.

In this chapter, Willoughby is presented with quiet humor as "exactly formed to engage Marianne's heart." However, despite his apparent attributes, we are held back from liking him too much by the subtle censure of the author. He says too much, gives his opinion of other people "hastily," and displays "a want of caution" which the eager Marianne enters into almost too willingly. Their criticism of Colonel Brandon is cruel, especially on Marianne's part since she has been given some indication of his favor towards her. It seems as if the couple is confusing what they believe to be their sincerity for what is actually flippancy. Elinor appears more and more to be the voice of the author. She is rarely satirized, in contrast to the constant parody of the others, and seems to possess a maturity which can serve as a guide for the behavior of all.