Margaret Dashwood

John Dashwood’s visit to the parsonage was not yet over. He was still making daily demands on the civility and patience of the inmates of Barton Cottage, when such welcome guests arrived as must lessen the disagreeables of his visits. Their circle was enlarged, their conversation improved, and their tempers relieved by the arrival of Elinor and Edward Ferrars. It was a joyful meeting. The influence of Elinor’s calm and balanced mind was just what her mother required, wearied and irritated as she had been for the last few days.

Mrs. Dashwood did not intend to confide her deeper anxieties to Elinor, but it was not long before she had done so, and Elinor was put in possession of all that Mrs. Dashwood knew of Margaret’s intimacy with Commander Pennington.

Elinor much disapproved of all she heard. Margaret clearly had been very indiscreet and, she feared, rather sly in concealment. She looked grave, and gave no encouragement to be happy to her mother, who had therefore to supply all arguments for cheerfulness herself, and did so to good purpose, representing that Margaret knew him so slightly it was impossible that she should be much affected, and, at the same time, he was so agreeable a man that a marriage between them would be highly satisfactory; that six months at least must pass before they met again, which was time enough for them either to change their minds or to make them up, whichever process were desirable; that he had no doubt enough money to marry on, but that Elinor herself must know that money was not an essential for happiness. In fact, she argued all ways at once, and the only circumstance that seemed certain and fixed was that Margaret was to be happy and that all was for the best.

Elinor listened, glad that her mother should be able to console herself, but privately deeply concerned at what she considered to be unwise. She determined to bring the subject up with her sister, and to let it be known how much she feared an unhappy ending to the affair.

In the meantime she was able to give all the sympathy that was desired over the annoyance of her brother’s interference. Mr. Atherton seemed to her a very poor figure of a parish priest. She had always before her the idea of Edward, so generous and devoted in his work, so refined in mind, unworldly and of such genuine goodness that the type of clergyman of which Mr. Atherton seemed to be an example was altogether disgusting to her. She warmly supported her sister and mother in their dislike of him, and John Dashwood, who could get nothing but calm disagreement and denials from Mrs. Dashwood, was even more daunted to find that Elinor was no more open to reason than his mother-in-law.

He had no wish to offend anyone, and presently gave up his self-imposed task of getting Margaret a husband with the warning that he was by no means prepared to endow her choice or that of her mother, as he would have endowed his own. Mrs. Dashwood seemed hardly to regard this loss of five hundred pounds. Indeed, the only way to be sure that she had fully understood the matter was to repeat his ultimatum more than once. He returned to Norland Park unsuccessful in his errand, but at least, as he told Fanny, he had carried out his father’s last injunctions to take care of his sisters and, as the event had turned out, might regard himself as richer by five hundred pounds.

Elinor made an early opportunity to get Margaret alone, with the intention of taxing her with her indiscretion and undue reticence. She began by inviting Margaret to walk with her on High-church down. There was something unexpected about this to Margaret, just enough to put her slightly on the defensive. Elinor’s choice of a walk was more often along a road and with some definite good object in view. To-day, however, though the excellent intention was not lacking, she chose the heights. It was a deliberate choice. She wished to recall to Margaret’s thoughts Marianne’s folly and its melancholy conclusion. She had not reckoned with other visions, other ideas which filled Margaret’s mind almost to the exclusion of all else.

Elinor began by reminding her sister of the day of Willoughby’s appearance. Margaret was much surprised at such a subject being introduced. She had been considered as a child by her two sisters, and had met with such severe rebuffs from Elinor on this subject that the idea of discussing the love affairs of one sister with the other was altogether distasteful to her. She listened politely to Elinor’s account of the surprise felt by her mother and herself when Willoughby came into the house with Marianne in his arms. Elinor said that she herself had almost immediately felt the deepest uneasiness. Marianne had been so powerfully attracted, the young man was so easily attached; in fact, the whole thing was too light, too casual to be lasting. Elinor, it seemed, had always known this, and had tried to warn Marianne and her mother, but they had disregarded her. If such a case were again to come under her notice she would be able to give the same warnings with a deeper urgency. She could now almost say that she knew how unlikely such a situation was to bring about domestic happiness such as she herself enjoyed.

Margaret listened, agreed, deplored the lack of caution shown by Marianne and the instability of Willoughby, when called upon to do so; agreed again as to the dangers of such intimacies; agreed further that they should be discouraged. Elinor could find no loophole, nothing on which to fasten an inquiry. Nothing but agreement! If Margaret had ever had any idea of confiding in her sister this manner of approach would have decided her against it. She had absolutely nothing to say on the subject.

Elinor bore this in silence for some time, and then, remembering how much trouble might have been spared them if Marianne had been induced to make some statement, she tried again, this time with rather more success.

“Mamma tells me, Margaret, that you have lately made the acquaintance of a certain Commander Pennington.”

Margaret’s colour was brighter as she agreed again.

“Mamma is anxious about it. She does not think the acquaintance a wise one. She does not think he has much stability of character.”

Elinor was more justified in making this statement than seemed likely. Mrs. Dashwood had said much on all sides of the matter in her perturbation, and it was true that she had expressed some such fear. It was one among many fears; but to Margaret it seemed more. To her it appeared as the considered opinion of her mother on him whom she immediately felt to be her lover. She waited a moment, and then replied quietly that she considered it impossible for either her mother or herself to form an opinion of Commander Pennington’s character. The acquaintance was a slight one, and might never be renewed.

Elinor felt it impossible to continue the conversation; but she had said enough—more than enough—to make up Margaret’s mind. She was now definitely determined that she would marry Commander Pennington if he asked her, and as definitely certain that she very much wished he would so do.

Margaret owed this self-knowledge to her sister’s interference, and felt that she would have had more peace of mind without it.