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.

Mrs. Jennings invites Marianne and Elinor to spend the winter with her in London; Elinor isn't excited by the prospect, though Marianne wants to go for the chance of seeing Willoughby. Mrs. Dashwood urges them to go and enjoy themselves; Marianne is determined to go, and Elinor decides she must go too, because Marianne is often uncivil to Mrs. Jennings and needs Elinor's guidance and good judgment. They accept Mrs. Jennings' invitation, and leave in the first week of January.

Marianne's lack of good manners and civility leaves her at a disadvantage; she is lucky that Elinor is always there to guard her and make apologies for her, since Marianne would never do so herself. Marianne's lack of delicacy is childlike, and shows that her character has been indulged a bit too much; however, only experience can teach her, since she is too stubborn to take the good advice of her sister Elinor on matters of society. Self-sacrifice becomes a theme in this chapter, as Elinor decides to go to London against her wishes because it will make her sister happy. Marianne's determination to go looks a little selfish in comparison, considering that she has no thought of repaying the hospitality of Mrs. Jennings with any good company at all

It turns out that Mrs. Jennings actually has a home of her own - and a rather stylish one, at that. When she's not visiting with various family and friends, she lives in London. She invites Marianne and Elinor to visit her at this house over the winter. Elinor turns down the invitation politely, saying that Mrs. Dashwood needs her older daughters over the winter. Mrs. Jennings refuses this refusal, saying that surely they can works everything out. Sir John slyly says that Marianne probably wouldn't mind going to London , with or without Elinor. Marianne warmly exclaims that she would love to accept, but she's afraid that Elinor's right - they need to stay home. Mrs. Jennings keeps insisting upon the visit, and Marianne doesn't put up a fight. Despite her dislike for Mrs. Jennings, she's desperate to go to London. When told of the invitation, Mrs. Dashwood decides that it's fine - the girls can go to the city. She insists that they accept. Elinor reminds her mother that appearing in town with Mrs. Jennings won't do them any social favors, but Mrs. Dashwood reminds her that they'll always be with Lady Middleton, a perfectly respectable woman. Mrs. Dashwood reasserts the fact that they should both go and enjoy themselves. She hints that Elinor should enjoy herself - particularly with Edward's family. Elinor, knowing what she knows, says rather coldly that she likes Edward very much, but it doesn't matter to her if his family likes her or not. Mrs. Dashwood smiles, thinking that Elinor is just being evasive. Marianne is surprised by this statement. Everything is settled with Mrs. Jennings, and the travel plans are all made. Sir John, Lady Middleton, and Mrs. Jennings are all very happy, and the Steeles claim that they are, too. Everyone gets ready for the big trip to London - Elinor reluctantly, and Marianne with great excitement. The Dashwood girls and Mrs. Jennings leave at the beginning of January; the Middletons, Lucy, and Anne plan to follow a week later.


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.

Elinor finds the company of Mrs. Jennings somewhat awkward, given a lack of things in common and the brevity of their acquaintance, but she is cheered that Marianne is obviously looking forward to the chance of seeing Willoughby. Elinor however is determined to figure out what Willoughby's intentions are, as she is not entirely assured that he is good. Elinor also has to make up for Marianne's coldness toward Mrs. Jennings, by being sociable and kind all the time. They find Mrs. Jennings' house in town very comfortable, and Marianne immediately writes and sends a letter for Willoughby. Marianne is convinced by a knock that Willoughby has come, and is very disappointed when it is Colonel Brandon; he does not stay long, and is upset at being slighted by Marianne. Marianne is more upset when several days pass with no word from Willoughby, and Elinor becomes worried about their relationship.

Austen writes with a sense of urgency regarding Willoughby and Marianne's relationship; within a "very short time," discoveries will be made that can either strengthen or destroy their attachment. Austen creates a bit of suspense through Marianne's hopeful expectation that Willoughby will come any second; the reader, too, becomes anxious to see him, since so much is still in doubt

Elinor is rather astonished by the situation she finds herself in - going to London with Mrs. Jennings, who she doesn't exactly count among her close acquaintances. Despite the oddness of this setup, Marianne and their mother are both thrilled about the trip, which will no doubt blissfully reunite Marianne with Willoughby. Marianne is as gentle as a lamb all the way to London, and totally without her usual obvious disdain for Mrs. Jennings. She's basically silent the whole way, except for occasional outbursts about the beauty of the landscape. Elinor, to make up for her sister's reticence, chats with Mrs. Jennings the whole way. They reach London after three days of travel, and find themselves in quite a satisfactory setting - Mrs. Jennings' house is pretty and stylish, and the girls are put up in Charlotte's old room. Upon their arrival, the group has some free time before dinner. Elinor decides to fill this time with writing a letter home; Marianne sits down to write as well, but when asks, denies that she's writing home. Elinor assumes that she's writing to Willoughby to announce their arrival. Marianne writes her letter in a rushed tizzy, and then sends it in the local post, which cements Elinor's thought that it's addressed to Willoughby. Marianne then spends the rest of the afternoon nervously awaiting a return letter. Elinor's glad Mrs. Jennings doesn't observe her sister's odd behavior. Finally a visitor arrives - Marianne's sure it's Willoughby! However, it turns out to be Colonel Brandon. Marianne rushes off, distressed. Elinor worried that the Colonel has been offended by her sister's rude behavior, particularly considering the fact that he's in love with Marianne. He asks if Marianne is ill, and Elinor lies to cover for her sister, saying that she's been unwell recently. Colonel Brandon politely makes small talk about London and Barton, saying that he's been home a couple of times, but never had enough time to visit. Elinor wants desperately to ask if Willoughby's in London, but feels that it would be too rude to ask the Colonel about his rival for Marianne's affections. Mrs. Jennings arrives and greets the Colonel enthusiastically. Apparently, he's been hanging out with Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, so the conversation tends that way for a while. Colonel Brandon stays to tea, withstanding Mrs. Jennings' nosy questions about his personal life. Marianne eventually reappears, and the Colonel seems particularly pensive. He leaves, and everyone heads off to bed. The next morning, Marianne seems to have recovered from her bad mood. Charlotte Palmer stops by to visit, and after a couple of hours of gossip, the ladies all go off shopping together. Marianne seems on the lookout for something, and is distracted the whole time they're out. The party returns home late in the morning, only to find that Willoughby has neither visited nor written back. Marianne is disappointed again, and Elinor is confused. If her sister and Willoughby are actually engaged, how come Marianne doesn't know where he is or what he's up to? And how come he won't write back to her? Elinor decides to ask her mother for advice if this odd behavior continues. Charlotte Palmer and two of Mrs. Jennings's friends join them for dinner. Marianne is distracted and socially useless the whole time.

It takes three days for the ladies to complete their journey. The house at Portman Square is cozy and comfortable. Elinor and Marianne are given separate quarters. After settling in, Elinor sits down to write a letter to her mother. Marianne, too, writes a letter, but it is addressed to Willoughby. In the following days she waits eagerly for his visit and his letter. However, she is in for much disappointment. Colonel Brandon visits them the next day. Marianne avoids him, while Elinor engages him in a conversation. In the evening Mrs. Palmer pays them a visit. She is in high spirits and expresses pleasure at meeting the girls. Other guests of Mrs. Jennings also arrive, and they are entertained with a game of whist. Elinor is concerned over her sister's behavior. Marianne neither participates in any activity nor shows enthusiasm in entertaining the guests. Elinor decides to write to her mother regarding her sister.

Notes It is the time for waiting and visiting. Marianne's impatience is revealed when she writes a letter to Willoughby immediately after arriving in London. She cannot think of anyone but him. Her restlessness only increases with time. Thus, when Colonel Brandon pays them a visit, she is disappointed and even disgusted. She also shows no desire to talk to Mrs. Palmer or the other guests of Mrs. Jennings. Through her behavior, she hurts the feelings of people like Colonel Brandon. Elinor observes her sister and is naturally concerned. Marianne's callous attitude towards others disturbs her. When Marianne avoids Colonel Brandon, Mrs. Palmer and the others, Elinor tries to make up for her sister's neglect by engaging them in conversation. She plays the part of a responsible hostess by helping Mrs. Jennings to entertain her guests. Her sensitivity to others is well brought out in this episode. CHAPTER 27 Summary Mrs. Jennings waits for the arrival of the Middletons, while Marianne waits for Willoughby's visit. Colonel Brandon visits them everyday. Elinor keeps him company. One day, after returning from a drive, Marianne finds Willoughby's card on the table. She is excited and waits for his visit. In the meantime Mrs. Jennings receives a letter from Lady Middleton informing her about their visit to the city. The Middletons arrive and host a party. All their friends make an appearance except for Willoughby, who was invited but failed to keep his appointment. Marianne is distressed. She writes another letter to Willoughby. Colonel Brandon visits them again and expresses a desire to speak to Elinor. He questions Elinor about Marianne's engagement in order to ascertain whether he stands any chance of winning her favor. Elinor indicates little hope. Brandon takes his leave after wishing Marianne happiness. Notes Marianne displays her feelings for Willoughby openly. When Mrs. Jennings mentions John Middleton's reluctance to leave the countryside when the weather is so good, Marianne responds excitedly, thinking of her lover and his passion for sports. When she finds Willoughby's card on the table, her hopes soar, and she is excited. However, when she is informed at the Middletons' party that Willoughby will not be in attendance, she feels depressed and reveals her displeasure. Elinor feels helpless in offering any advice to her sister. Instead, she decides to write to her mother about this matter. Whenever Marianne is indiscreet, Elinor tries to compensate for her sister. She feels sorry for Colonel Brandon but thinks it reasonable to lay bare the truth about Marianne's feelings for Willoughby. Elinor is honest but discreet and prudent. CHAPTER 28 Summary Willoughby neither visits nor writes Marianne. One evening, both the girls accompany Mrs. Jennings to a party, where they ultimately meet Willoughby. Elinor notices him talking to a fashionable lady. Marianne is agitated after catching a glimpse of him. A short while afterward, Willoughby comes forward to meet them. He is formal in his manners and fails to reciprocate Marianne's passionate entreaties. When he takes leave of them abruptly, Marianne is shocked and feels faint. Elinor seeks the help of Lady Middleton and takes her home. Notes Marianne gets a shattering blow after meeting Willoughby at the party. All along she had been looking forward to meeting him and when she does, she expects him to apologize for his neglect and express his love for her. Instead, he behaves like a stranger and gives her the cold shoulder. He is formal in his manners and curt in his behavior towards the sisters. His callous attitude breaks Marianne's heart. What Elinor had feared all along comes true. Elinor had never been sure of Willoughby's intentions towards Marianne and had expressed her doubts to her mother. She had been worried when Willoughby failed to respond to Marianne's letters. She had felt disturbed by his negligent attitude. When she meets him and receives a cold response from him, she is disgusted. The scene at the party finally severs the relationship between Marianne and Willoughby. Elinor rightly believes that he had treated her sister in a shameful manner and that he deserves nothing but contempt. Jane Austen has constructed an emotional situation in which to present the confrontation between Marianne and Willoughby. The scene is charged with expectation. Marianne is enraptured to meet Willoughby and openly displays her affection for him, but Willoughby acts reserved and shows restraint in his behavior towards her. He appears indifferent to her feelings. His curt reply to her passionate questions is cruel and shattering.


"If this open weather holds much longer," said Mrs. Jennings, when they
met at breakfast the following morning, "Sir John will not like leaving
Barton next week; 'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a day's
pleasure.  Poor souls!  I always pity them when they do; they seem to
take it so much to heart."

"That is true," cried Marianne, in a cheerful voice, and walking to the
window as she spoke, to examine the day.  "I had not thought of that.
This weather will keep many sportsmen in the country."

It was a lucky recollection, all her good spirits were restored by it.
"It is charming weather for THEM indeed," she continued, as she sat
down to the breakfast table with a happy countenance.  "How much they
must enjoy it! But" (with a little return of anxiety) "it cannot be
expected to last long.  At this time of the year, and after such a
series of rain, we shall certainly have very little more of it.  Frosts
will soon set in, and in all probability with severity.  In another day
or two perhaps; this extreme mildness can hardly last longer--nay,
perhaps it may freeze tonight!"

"At any rate," said Elinor, wishing to prevent Mrs. Jennings from
seeing her sister's thoughts as clearly as she did, "I dare say we
shall have Sir John and Lady Middleton in town by the end of next week."

"Ay, my dear, I'll warrant you we do.  Mary always has her own way."

"And now," silently conjectured Elinor, "she will write to Combe by
this day's post."

But if she DID, the letter was written and sent away with a privacy
which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertain the fact.  Whatever the
truth of it might be, and far as Elinor was from feeling thorough
contentment about it, yet while she saw Marianne in spirits, she could
not be very uncomfortable herself.  And Marianne was in spirits; happy
in the mildness of the weather, and still happier in her expectation of
a frost.

The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards at the houses of Mrs.
Jennings's acquaintance to inform them of her being in town; and
Marianne was all the time busy in observing the direction of the wind,
watching the variations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the
air.

"Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning, Elinor? There
seems to me a very decided difference.  I can hardly keep my hands warm
even in my muff.  It was not so yesterday, I think.  The clouds seem
parting too, the sun will be out in a moment, and we shall have a clear
afternoon."

Elinor was alternately diverted and pained; but Marianne persevered,
and saw every night in the brightness of the fire, and every morning in
the appearance of the atmosphere, the certain symptoms of approaching
frost.

The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be dissatisfied with Mrs.
Jennings's style of living, and set of acquaintance, than with her
behaviour to themselves, which was invariably kind.  Every thing in her
household arrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan, and
excepting a few old city friends, whom, to Lady Middleton's regret, she
had never dropped, she visited no one to whom an introduction could at
all discompose the feelings of her young companions.  Pleased to find
herself more comfortably situated in that particular than she had
expected, Elinor was very willing to compound for the want of much real
enjoyment from any of their evening parties, which, whether at home or
abroad, formed only for cards, could have little to amuse her.

Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitation to the house, was with
them almost every day; he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor,
who often derived more satisfaction from conversing with him than from
any other daily occurrence, but who saw at the same time with much
concern his continued regard for her sister.  She feared it was a
strengthening regard.  It grieved her to see the earnestness with which
he often watched Marianne, and his spirits were certainly worse than
when at Barton.

About a week after their arrival, it became certain that Willoughby was
also arrived.  His card was on the table when they came in from the
morning's drive.

"Good God!" cried Marianne, "he has been here while we were out."
Elinor, rejoiced to be assured of his being in London, now ventured to
say, "Depend upon it, he will call again tomorrow."  But Marianne
seemed hardly to hear her, and on Mrs. Jennings's entrance, escaped with
the precious card.

This event, while it raised the spirits of Elinor, restored to those of
her sister all, and more than all, their former agitation.  From this
moment her mind was never quiet; the expectation of seeing him every
hour of the day, made her unfit for any thing.  She insisted on being
left behind, the next morning, when the others went out.

Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passing in Berkeley Street
during their absence; but a moment's glance at her sister when they
returned was enough to inform her, that Willoughby had paid no second
visit there.  A note was just then brought in, and laid on the table.

"For me!" cried Marianne, stepping hastily forward.

"No, ma'am, for my mistress."

But Marianne, not convinced, took it instantly up.

"It is indeed for Mrs. Jennings; how provoking!"

"You are expecting a letter, then?" said Elinor, unable to be longer
silent.

"Yes, a little--not much."

After a short pause.  "You have no confidence in me, Marianne."

"Nay, Elinor, this reproach from YOU--you who have confidence in no
one!"

"Me!" returned Elinor in some confusion; "indeed, Marianne, I have
nothing to tell."

"Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situations then are alike.
We have neither of us any thing to tell; you, because you do not
communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing."

Elinor, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself, which she was
not at liberty to do away, knew not how, under such circumstances, to
press for greater openness in Marianne.

Mrs. Jennings soon appeared, and the note being given her, she read it
aloud.  It was from Lady Middleton, announcing their arrival in Conduit
Street the night before, and requesting the company of her mother and
cousins the following evening.  Business on Sir John's part, and a
violent cold on her own, prevented their calling in Berkeley Street.
The invitation was accepted; but when the hour of appointment drew
near, necessary as it was in common civility to Mrs. Jennings, that
they should both attend her on such a visit, Elinor had some difficulty
in persuading her sister to go, for still she had seen nothing of
Willoughby; and therefore was not more indisposed for amusement abroad,
than unwilling to run the risk of his calling again in her absence.

Elinor found, when the evening was over, that disposition is not
materially altered by a change of abode, for although scarcely settled
in town, Sir John had contrived to collect around him, nearly twenty
young people, and to amuse them with a ball.  This was an affair,
however, of which Lady Middleton did not approve.  In the country, an
unpremeditated dance was very allowable; but in London, where the
reputation of elegance was more important and less easily attained, it
was risking too much for the gratification of a few girls, to have it
known that Lady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine
couple, with two violins, and a mere side-board collation.

Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were of the party; from the former, whom they had
not seen before since their arrival in town, as he was careful to avoid
the appearance of any attention to his mother-in-law, and therefore
never came near her, they received no mark of recognition on their
entrance.  He looked at them slightly, without seeming to know who they
were, and merely nodded to Mrs. Jennings from the other side of the
room.  Marianne gave one glance round the apartment as she entered: it
was enough--HE was not there--and she sat down, equally ill-disposed to
receive or communicate pleasure.  After they had been assembled about
an hour, Mr. Palmer sauntered towards the Miss Dashwoods to express his
surprise on seeing them in town, though Colonel Brandon had been first
informed of their arrival at his house, and he had himself said
something very droll on hearing that they were to come.

"I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he.

"Did you?" replied Elinor.

"When do you go back again?"

"I do not know." And thus ended their discourse.

Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance in her life, as she was
that evening, and never so much fatigued by the exercise.  She
complained of it as they returned to Berkeley Street.

"Aye, aye," said Mrs. Jennings, "we know the reason of all that very
well; if a certain person who shall be nameless, had been there, you
would not have been a bit tired: and to say the truth it was not very
pretty of him not to give you the meeting when he was invited."

"Invited!" cried Marianne.

"So my daughter Middleton told me, for it seems Sir John met him
somewhere in the street this morning." Marianne said no more, but
looked exceedingly hurt.  Impatient in this situation to be doing
something that might lead to her sister's relief, Elinor resolved to
write the next morning to her mother, and hoped by awakening her fears
for the health of Marianne, to procure those inquiries which had been
so long delayed; and she was still more eagerly bent on this measure by
perceiving after breakfast on the morrow, that Marianne was again
writing to Willoughby, for she could not suppose it to be to any other
person.

About the middle of the day, Mrs. Jennings went out by herself on
business, and Elinor began her letter directly, while Marianne, too
restless for employment, too anxious for conversation, walked from one
window to the other, or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation.
Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother, relating all
that had passed, her suspicions of Willoughby's inconstancy, urging her
by every plea of duty and affection to demand from Marianne an account
of her real situation with respect to him.

Her letter was scarcely finished, when a rap foretold a visitor, and
Colonel Brandon was announced.  Marianne, who had seen him from the
window, and who hated company of any kind, left the room before he
entered it.  He looked more than usually grave, and though expressing
satisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone, as if he had somewhat in
particular to tell her, sat for some time without saying a word.
Elinor, persuaded that he had some communication to make in which her
sister was concerned, impatiently expected its opening.  It was not the
first time of her feeling the same kind of conviction; for, more than
once before, beginning with the observation of "your sister looks
unwell to-day," or "your sister seems out of spirits," he had appeared
on the point, either of disclosing, or of inquiring, something
particular about her.  After a pause of several minutes, their silence
was broken, by his asking her in a voice of some agitation, when he was
to congratulate her on the acquisition of a brother?  Elinor was not
prepared for such a question, and having no answer ready, was obliged
to adopt the simple and common expedient, of asking what he meant?  He
tried to smile as he replied, "your sister's engagement to Mr.
Willoughby is very generally known."

"It cannot be generally known," returned Elinor, "for her own family do
not know it."

He looked surprised and said, "I beg your pardon, I am afraid my
inquiry has been impertinent; but I had not supposed any secrecy
intended, as they openly correspond, and their marriage is universally
talked of."

"How can that be? By whom can you have heard it mentioned?"

"By many--by some of whom you know nothing, by others with whom you are
most intimate, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer, and the Middletons.  But
still I might not have believed it, for where the mind is perhaps
rather unwilling to be convinced, it will always find something to
support its doubts, if I had not, when the servant let me in today,
accidentally seen a letter in his hand, directed to Mr. Willoughby in
your sister's writing.  I came to inquire, but I was convinced before I
could ask the question.  Is every thing finally settled?  Is it
impossible to-?  But I have no right, and I could have no chance of
succeeding.  Excuse me, Miss Dashwood.  I believe I have been wrong in
saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and on your prudence I
have the strongest dependence.  Tell me that it is all absolutely
resolved on, that any attempt, that in short concealment, if
concealment be possible, is all that remains."

These words, which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowal of his love for
her sister, affected her very much.  She was not immediately able to
say anything, and even when her spirits were recovered, she debated for
a short time, on the answer it would be most proper to give.  The real
state of things between Willoughby and her sister was so little known
to herself, that in endeavouring to explain it, she might be as liable
to say too much as too little.  Yet as she was convinced that
Marianne's affection for Willoughby, could leave no hope of Colonel
Brandon's success, whatever the event of that affection might be, and
at the same time wished to shield her conduct from censure, she thought
it most prudent and kind, after some consideration, to say more than
she really knew or believed.  She acknowledged, therefore, that though
she had never been informed by themselves of the terms on which they
stood with each other, of their mutual affection she had no doubt, and
of their correspondence she was not astonished to hear.

He listened to her with silent attention, and on her ceasing to speak,
rose directly from his seat, and after saying in a voice of emotion,
"to your sister I wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that he
may endeavour to deserve her,"--took leave, and went away.

Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from this conversation, to
lessen the uneasiness of her mind on other points; she was left, on the
contrary, with a melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's
unhappiness, and was prevented even from wishing it removed, by her
anxiety for the very event that must confirm it.

Sir John and Lady Middleton are expected in town in just a short time; Marianne continues to look forward to seeing Willoughby, and Elinor finds her greatest enjoyment in Colonel Brandon's daily visits. They return one day to find Willoughby's card, which gives Marianne great pleasure that he is in town and managed to drop by. Elinor still has not managed to find out if Marianne and Willoughby are engaged; she is much disturbed when Colonel Brandon approaches her and tells her that their engagement is widely known throughout town, though Elinor does not know of it. Elinor says that she is sure of their mutual affections, but when Colonel Brandon says that Willoughby should try to deserve Marianne, Elinor's doubts about Willoughby's character and intentions resurface.

Marianne makes a very pointed remark that again highlights the contrast between the characters of the two sisters. Marianne says they have nothing to tell each other because Marianne "conceal nothing" and Elinor "communicate. Marianne's statement may be too harsh in its appraisal of Elinor's character, however the two girls are distinctly different in how they express themselves and in the amount of discretion with which they govern their behavior. Perhaps it is ironic that Elinor is trying to "press for greater openness in Marianne" at this point; indeed, Marianne may communicate nearly everything, except for the crucial information regarding her and Willoughby's relationship. Prudence becomes a theme of most importance, as rumors of Marianne and Willoughby's engagement could be very damaging if such an engagement is not real. Marianne will be exposed as flighty and subjected to even more damaging gossip, and her reputation could be at stake merely because she chooses to be open concerning her affections. Colonel Brandon shows himself to be a dramatic foil of Willoughby, in his concerns for prudence and reputation; his inquiry also foreshadows unpleasant realizations about Willoughby's character and intentions

Mrs. Jennings remarks casually that it's too bad the weather is so nice - it must be keeping anyone interested in hunting at home in the country. Marianne is heartened by this idea - after all, Willoughby loves to hunt, so maybe he's still home at Combe Magna. She's suddenly in a good mood. Elinor, hoping to distract Mrs. Jennings, says that surely Lady Middleton and Sir John will come by the end of the week. She silently observes that Marianne will doubtless write to Willoughby in the country. The ladies spend the morning visiting various friends of Mrs. Jennings's, and Marianne spends the whole time observing the weather. Elinor finds her sister's behavior both hilarious and worrying. Everything is quite pleasant in Mrs. Jennings' home, and the girls are fairly content, at least for now. Colonel Brandon comes to visit practically every day, and Elinor worries about how hard he's fallen for Marianne. He's obviously more in love with her than ever. After about a week of this, Willoughby shows up - unfortunately, he stops by when nobody's around, and leaves his calling card behind as proof of his visit. Marianne freaks out, and Elinor reassures her that he'll visit again the next day. However, the next morning, Marianne stays home, but nobody comes to visit. A note arrives, and Marianne rudely snatches it up. Unfortunately, it's not from Willoughby. The letter, which is actually for Mrs. Jennings, informs them that the Middletons have finally arrived. Lady Middleton invites them to dinner the next evening, as various things prevent them from visiting the Jennings abode themselves. Elinor persuades Marianne to go along, even though she'd rather stay home and wait for Willoughby to call. Sir John seems to be the same in town and in the country - as usual, he's invited a ton of people over for a raging party, including the Palmers, and a bunch of other folks. Mr. Palmer says a cursory and awkward hello. In general, the evening seems pretty disappointing, especially because Willoughby isn't there. When they arrive home, Mrs. Jennings lets slip the fact that Willoughby was invited to the party - but just didn't show. Marianne is shocked and hurt. She immediately writes another letter to him in the morning. Elinor writes to her mother, seeking help on the Willoughby front. Colonel Brandon shows up as soon as Elinor finishes her letter, and Marianne flees the room before he enters. Colonel Brandon is actually relieved to just find Elinor - apparently, he has something to tell her in private. He brings up the topic of Willoughby, commenting that it's a well-known fact that he and Marianne are engaged. Elinor assures him that it's not that well-known - after all, even she and her mother don't know it for sure. The colonel says that he's heard it from many people, including Mrs. Jennings, the Palmers, and the Middletons. He has come to see if the engagement is absolutely, 100% for sure or not. Elinor answers that she's not surprised by the rumors, though Marianne hasn't told her anything. Colonel Brandon simply wishes the couple the greatest happiness, and leaves without another word. Elinor is saddened by this conversation, but torn between her pity for Colonel Brandon, and her desire to see the whole Willoughby/Marianne issue resolved.


Nothing occurred during the next three or four days, to make Elinor
regret what she had done, in applying to her mother; for Willoughby
neither came nor wrote.  They were engaged about the end of that time
to attend Lady Middleton to a party, from which Mrs. Jennings was kept
away by the indisposition of her youngest daughter; and for this party,
Marianne, wholly dispirited, careless of her appearance, and seeming
equally indifferent whether she went or staid, prepared, without one
look of hope or one expression of pleasure.  She sat by the
drawing-room fire after tea, till the moment of Lady Middleton's
arrival, without once stirring from her seat, or altering her attitude,
lost in her own thoughts, and insensible of her sister's presence; and
when at last they were told that Lady Middleton waited for them at the
door, she started as if she had forgotten that any one was expected.

They arrived in due time at the place of destination, and as soon as
the string of carriages before them would allow, alighted, ascended the
stairs, heard their names announced from one landing-place to another
in an audible voice, and entered a room splendidly lit up, quite full
of company, and insufferably hot.  When they had paid their tribute of
politeness by curtsying to the lady of the house, they were permitted
to mingle in the crowd, and take their share of the heat and
inconvenience, to which their arrival must necessarily add.  After some
time spent in saying little or doing less, Lady Middleton sat down to
Cassino, and as Marianne was not in spirits for moving about, she and
Elinor luckily succeeding to chairs, placed themselves at no great
distance from the table.

They had not remained in this manner long, before Elinor perceived
Willoughby, standing within a few yards of them, in earnest
conversation with a very fashionable looking young woman.  She soon
caught his eye, and he immediately bowed, but without attempting to
speak to her, or to approach Marianne, though he could not but see her;
and then continued his discourse with the same lady.  Elinor turned
involuntarily to Marianne, to see whether it could be unobserved by
her.  At that moment she first perceived him, and her whole countenance
glowing with sudden delight, she would have moved towards him
instantly, had not her sister caught hold of her.

"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "he is there--he is there--Oh! why does
he not look at me? why cannot I speak to him?"

"Pray, pray be composed," cried Elinor, "and do not betray what you
feel to every body present.  Perhaps he has not observed you yet."

This however was more than she could believe herself; and to be
composed at such a moment was not only beyond the reach of Marianne, it
was beyond her wish.  She sat in an agony of impatience which affected
every feature.

At last he turned round again, and regarded them both; she started up,
and pronouncing his name in a tone of affection, held out her hand to
him.  He approached, and addressing himself rather to Elinor than
Marianne, as if wishing to avoid her eye, and determined not to observe
her attitude, inquired in a hurried manner after Mrs. Dashwood, and
asked how long they had been in town.  Elinor was robbed of all
presence of mind by such an address, and was unable to say a word.  But
the feelings of her sister were instantly expressed.  Her face was
crimsoned over, and she exclaimed, in a voice of the greatest emotion,
"Good God! Willoughby, what is the meaning of this?  Have you not
received my letters?  Will you not shake hands with me?"

He could not then avoid it, but her touch seemed painful to him, and he
held her hand only for a moment.  During all this time he was evidently
struggling for composure.  Elinor watched his countenance and saw its
expression becoming more tranquil.  After a moment's pause, he spoke
with calmness.

"I did myself the honour of calling in Berkeley Street last Tuesday,
and very much regretted that I was not fortunate enough to find
yourselves and Mrs. Jennings at home.  My card was not lost, I hope."

"But have you not received my notes?" cried Marianne in the wildest
anxiety.  "Here is some mistake I am sure--some dreadful mistake.  What
can be the meaning of it?  Tell me, Willoughby; for heaven's sake tell
me, what is the matter?"

He made no reply; his complexion changed and all his embarrassment
returned; but as if, on catching the eye of the young lady with whom he
had been previously talking, he felt the necessity of instant exertion,
he recovered himself again, and after saying, "Yes, I had the pleasure
of receiving the information of your arrival in town, which you were so
good as to send me," turned hastily away with a slight bow and joined
his friend.

Marianne, now looking dreadfully white, and unable to stand, sunk into
her chair, and Elinor, expecting every moment to see her faint, tried
to screen her from the observation of others, while reviving her with
lavender water.

"Go to him, Elinor," she cried, as soon as she could speak, "and force
him to come to me.  Tell him I must see him again--must speak to him
instantly.-- I cannot rest--I shall not have a moment's peace till this
is explained--some dreadful misapprehension or other.-- Oh go to him
this moment."

"How can that be done? No, my dearest Marianne, you must wait.  This is
not the place for explanations.  Wait only till tomorrow."

With difficulty however could she prevent her from following him
herself; and to persuade her to check her agitation, to wait, at least,
with the appearance of composure, till she might speak to him with more
privacy and more effect, was impossible; for Marianne continued
incessantly to give way in a low voice to the misery of her feelings,
by exclamations of wretchedness.  In a short time Elinor saw Willoughby
quit the room by the door towards the staircase, and telling Marianne
that he was gone, urged the impossibility of speaking to him again that
evening, as a fresh argument for her to be calm.  She instantly begged
her sister would entreat Lady Middleton to take them home, as she was
too miserable to stay a minute longer.

Lady Middleton, though in the middle of a rubber, on being informed
that Marianne was unwell, was too polite to object for a moment to her
wish of going away, and making over her cards to a friend, they
departed as soon the carriage could be found.  Scarcely a word was
spoken during their return to Berkeley Street.  Marianne was in a
silent agony, too much oppressed even for tears; but as Mrs. Jennings
was luckily not come home, they could go directly to their own room,
where hartshorn restored her a little to herself.  She was soon
undressed and in bed, and as she seemed desirous of being alone, her
sister then left her, and while she waited the return of Mrs. Jennings,
had leisure enough for thinking over the past.

That some kind of engagement had subsisted between Willoughby and
Marianne she could not doubt, and that Willoughby was weary of it,
seemed equally clear; for however Marianne might still feed her own
wishes, SHE could not attribute such behaviour to mistake or
misapprehension of any kind.  Nothing but a thorough change of
sentiment could account for it.  Her indignation would have been still
stronger than it was, had she not witnessed that embarrassment which
seemed to speak a consciousness of his own misconduct, and prevented
her from believing him so unprincipled as to have been sporting with
the affections of her sister from the first, without any design that
would bear investigation.  Absence might have weakened his regard, and
convenience might have determined him to overcome it, but that such a
regard had formerly existed she could not bring herself to doubt.

As for Marianne, on the pangs which so unhappy a meeting must already
have given her, and on those still more severe which might await her in
its probable consequence, she could not reflect without the deepest
concern.  Her own situation gained in the comparison; for while she
could ESTEEM Edward as much as ever, however they might be divided in
future, her mind might be always supported.  But every circumstance
that could embitter such an evil seemed uniting to heighten the misery
of Marianne in a final separation from Willoughby--in an immediate and
irreconcilable rupture with him.

Marianne and Elinor are obliged to accompany Lady Middleton to a party, though Marianne clearly has no heart for it. At the party, Elinor and Marianne see Willoughby; Marianne approaches him, although he turns and addresses Elinor instead, trying to avoid Marianne. Willoughby turns away from them abruptly when Marianne plies him with questions, and Marianne becomes faint and disturbed at this. Elinor takes her home, and is convinced that they must have been engaged, though Willoughby seems to have since discounted their relationship. Elinor is glad that at least she can continue to like Edward, although they cannot be together; Willoughby's conduct does not allow Marianne that luxury, and it will be hard for her to realize their relationship is finally over.

Elinor's prudence has triumphed over Marianne's passion, with grave consequences for Marianne; her very nature is offended by Willoughby's rejection, and her innocent hopes are also destroyed. It seems that there is no hope of Marianne and Willoughby getting back together after this incident, as Austen even describes it as an "immediate and irreconcilable rupture. This asks the question, will Marianne find a new love for herself, and overcome her indulgent, romantic tendencies which will probably make her grieve over Willoughby for a long period to come

The next few days are uneventful; Willoughby continues to be a no-show. One day, Elinor and the lackluster Marianne accompany Lady Middleton to a party. Lady Middleton sits down to play cards, while the Dashwoods keep to themselves. Moments later, Elinor notices a familiar figure - it's Willoughby! He's in mid-conversation with a very stylish young lady, and refuses to come over to talk to the sisters. Marianne notices Willoughby with delight, but then is puzzled by his actions - why won't he come over to talk to her? Elinor tries to calm her sister down. Finally, Willoughby turns to speak to them. Elinor greets him warmly, yet he treats them like casual acquaintances. What the...? Elinor controls her confusion, but Marianne simply can't. She explodes with emotion, asking Willoughby what his deal is. Can't he even shake hands with her? He does, but drops her hand like a hot coal. He's clearly disturbed by something...but what? Willoughby continues the conversation as best he can, calmly saying that he was sad to miss them at Mrs. Jennings's house the day he visited. Marianne wildly asks if he's received her letters, and demands that he tell her what's going on. Willoughby quickly makes an excuse and flees the conversation. Marianne freaks out and practically faints. Elinor keeps the situation under control by trying her best to soothe Marianne; in the meanwhile, Willoughby leaves the party. Lady Middleton, hearing that Marianne is ill immediately takes the girls home. Marianne is in a state of agony the whole time. When they arrive at home, Elinor puts Marianne to bed, then goes off to wait for Mrs. Jennings to get home. In the meanwhile, she ponders the events of the evening. It's apparent that whatever engagement Marianne and Willoughby agreed on is over - but how could he have changed his mind so completely? What's going on with him? Elinor is furious on her sister's behalf. Elinor reflects that this whole situation makes her own problems with Edward look better; after all, she can still be friends with Edward, while Marianne's relationship with Willoughby has to be broken off forever.