CHAPTER VI
The next day was so delightfully fine that Margaret professed herself unable to stay in the house, and begged her mother’s indulgence for taking another long walk. Mrs. Dashwood agreed at once. She supposed that Margaret shared her apprehension that Mr. Atherton would appear during the course of the morning to sit with them, and sympathized with her daughter in desiring to escape. For herself she must bear the infliction, but believed that Margaret’s absence would make it a short one. She purposely made no inquiry as to Margaret’s direction and would inform Mr. Atherton only that her daughter was walking.
She expected a slight annoyance, but it was a much greater one that arrived. The post brought a letter from Mr. John Dashwood. It was as follows:
My Dear Madam,
You will no doubt feel some surprise on receiving a letter from me, but have no fear, we are all well, and Fanny desires her best respects.
You will have with you at this time the new incumbent of the living of Barton, Mr. Atherton, and I trust his manners and address are as pleasing to you as they were to ourselves. A very fine young man indeed, and it is a satisfaction to feel that he owes his preferment, though indirectly, to our interest. No doubt a certain happy possibility will have occurred to you, madam, and rest assured it has not been absent from our thoughts. Mr. Atherton comes to you prepared to admire your daughter, and at Fanny’s express wishes I offer my assistance in securing the settlement of my sister. I told Mr. Atherton plainly that, in the event of his marrying my sister, I was prepared to increase her fortune by one half. I did not inform him of the amount of her fortune, and it may be that he has formed a hope that it is larger than the one thousand pounds left to her by my honoured uncle. However, in the event of this happy occurrence you may rely on my holding to my share of the bargain, and I will increase her fortune by five hundred pounds.
Margaret is a special favourite of my dear wife’s, and it is at her instigation that I make this offer. She is most anxious to see all our sisters comfortably settled. As she wisely points out, they will then be independent, and we do not wish our dear Harry to be responsible for the support of his aunts, much loved as they undoubtedly would be. One point I must endeavour to make clear. This offer has only been made in the event of my sister becoming Mrs. Atherton. Should she fail to receive his addresses, should they not be made, or even should they be refused, she must be content with the same fortune as her sisters, bequeathed to them by my good uncle. Fanny is particularly anxious that this should be made clear to Margaret. As she wisely and affectionately says, “We must not allow our sister to become the prey of any fortune-hunter.”
Little Harry desires his love to his grandmother, and believe me, dear madam, to be
To say that this letter angered Mrs. Dashwood is to fall far short of the truth. Her gentleness and kindness of manner concealed a nature more ardent than the generality. Her feelings on reading John Dashwood’s letter were indescribable. Indignation and disgust filled her mind to the exclusion of all else for some time, till, taking up the letter to reread some phrase of which the insolence was not really lessened by unconsciousness of offence, her eyes fell on the statement that Margaret was a special favourite with her sister-in-law. The opposite feelings entertained for Fanny by Margaret struck her sense of the ludicrous, and she read over the whole letter with her appreciation of its absurdity happily awakened.
It is possible to be angry alone, but a joke must be shared. Mrs. Dashwood’s sense of what was proper forbade any mention of the letter to Margaret. Marianne would be angered but not amused. Elinor’s more delicately balanced mind would perceive the ridiculous while reprobating all that was objectionable. To Elinor she would write, enclosing the letter, and expressing herself with all the warmth of which she was capable. Elinor was a perfectly safe confidante. Her discretion was absolutely to be relied on, and to Elinor she could allow herself that freedom of speech which only excited Marianne and seemed sometimes to alienate Margaret.
She wrote also to John Dashwood, thanking him for his letter and remarking that she had no expectation of the kind to which he alluded. She added merely love to little Harry, and omitted all mention of Fanny. A “curiously cold letter” this was considered at Norland Park, but, as Fanny added for her own satisfaction: “Some people are unable to express themselves in letters. It is a mark of good breeding to be able to do so, but, unfortunately, every one does not possess the gift.”
John remarked with admiration that his Fanny would always make excuses for every one, and that he dared say his mother-in-law meant very well and felt more gratitude than she expressed.
Mrs. Dashwood enclosed a copy of her reply to Norland Park in her letter to Elinor, and felt that she had washed her hands of the affair.
Fortunately for Mr. Atherton, he did not call on her that morning. He considered it to be his duty to his parishioners to pay a visit to every humble dwelling, and this would occupy the whole morning. He sent this message by Sir John, who added:
“However, he hopes to be allowed to wait on you to-morrow morning, so Miss Margaret need not think him faithless just yet.”
Mrs. Dashwood replied that her daughter would be most unlikely to think anything about the matter, but Sir John only looked wise, and murmured something about “young ladies,” which Mrs. Dashwood did not wish to understand.
An awkward silence was broken by Sir John. He had made inquiries about Miss Nancy’s other beau, and found that there was some one of the name of Pennington staying at the farm near the Abbeyland—Grice’s farm.
“He is some relation of Mrs. Grice, and comes of very low people. It seems he is in the navy, but the navy admits all degrees nowadays. I am afraid Miss Nancy will be disappointed. Lady Middleton will not have him invited to the Park, though for my own part, if a man is a well-looking man and a good sportsman, it does not matter to me who his grandfather was. However, her ladyship’s views are different, and we all have to do as our wives say we must.”
Mrs. Dashwood was only interested in this in so far as she imagined that, while Sir John ran on about Miss Nancy’s beau, it was impossible for him to touch on anything relating to the state of her own daughter’s affections. She therefore welcomed the change of conversation, and they agreed very comfortably over the evils of chance acquaintanceships and the deplorable mixture of classes which obtained in the navy.
Margaret’s walk had been taken in the same direction as that of the previous day. She did not resolve to go in that direction. Her feet carried her thither. She had formed no opinion as to what or whom she would find when she reached the summit of High-church down, but it was not surprise that caught her breath, and not displeasure that brought her to a standstill when she came in sight of her companion of yestermorning, and was greeted by him with all the warmth and civility which would have been justified only by long acquaintance.
Somehow, justification seemed unnecessary. He was there, and she was with him. The wind was not so boisterous this morning; and, as they walked side by side, she could hear all that he told her. He had been in many parts of the world—much in the Mediterranean and in the East Indies. He had been at Trafalgar when a lieutenant in the “Orion.” He had seen Lord Nelson and Admiral Collingwood. He hoped to be employed again shortly. In the meanwhile he had come to see an old cousin of his mother’s, who lived in this neighbourhood, and who had been his nurse. Her name was Mrs. Grice. Did she know Mrs. Grice? Margaret assented. He had more to tell her of his journeys and of his home-comings. How different was this flow of talk to that which she had endured from the new vicar! So quiet, so easy was his manner, so modest and impersonal his account of his adventures, the interest so real and sustained!
He asked no questions, but Margaret found that she was telling him something of her own life and more of her own thoughts than she had ever told. The hour that they passed in each other’s company seemed short. They parted, and Margaret returned home.
This time she was resolved that her mother should know of the meeting. It was all a chance occurrence, and of no real importance, but she felt it right to tell her mother the little there was to tell.
She opened the door, and found Sir John sitting with Mrs. Dashwood. He rose to greet her; and, casting about in his mind for a suitable witticism, he hit on the very thing to make her reconsider her resolution.
“I have sad news for Miss Nancy when I get back to the Park. Her new beau is only a common fellow after all, a relation of the Grice who has the farm near the Abbeyland. No good at all! She will have to set her cap at Atherton, Miss Margaret, so you must keep on the look out to be ahead of her.”
Never had Margaret’s sweet smile of composure been harder to maintain. Sir John’s jokes had always been distasteful. To-day they were something more. Her mother intervened.
“You look tired, my love. You have walked too far. Sir John will excuse you, if you will go and rest.”
Sir John, however, excused himself, and went off with his sad news for Miss Nancy, after securing Margaret’s promise to join in a ball at the Park next Monday when the moon would be at its full, and it would be possible to collect the young people from all parts of the neighbourhood.
“Sir John is a kind neighbour,” Mrs. Dashwood remarked absently.
Had she omitted to make that statement, it is possible that Margaret would have told her of the morning’s meeting. With Sir John’s kindness the subject of commendation it seemed all at once impossible. What could her mother say beyond giving her the conventional warnings and the obvious gentle reproof? Margaret decided that the whole thing was too unimportant to be spoken of. She did not intend to walk in the direction of High-church down again and, even if she did, it was improbable that her acquaintance would do the same. She did not allude to the matter, but listened with apparent interest to her mother’s account of Thomas’s progress and Sir John’s visit.