feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Sense and Sensibility/section_9_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: Sense and Sensibility.chapters 13-14
feat_summary_id: chapters 13-14
feat_summary: {"name": "Chapters 13-14", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201101060302/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/s/sense-and-sensibility/summary-and-analysis/chapters-1314", "summary": "While the party breakfasted at Barton Hall, a letter came for Colonel Brandon. He \"took it, looked at the direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room.\" He soon returned, saying that he was obliged to leave for London and regretting that the party would not be able to go to Whitwell without him. Mrs. Jennings intimated that she knew who the letter was from, and after Brandon left told the group about a Miss Williams, the colonel's natural daughter. Sir John arranged for the party to drive in the country. Marianne and Willoughby dashed off in the first carriage and returned after the last one, telling no one where they had been. However, during a dance that evening, Mrs. Jennings told Marianne that she had found out where they had been. Having questioned the groom, she learned that Willoughby had taken Marianne to Allenham and shown her over the house. Despite Marianne's embarrassment, Mrs. Jennings continued to banter the girl on how the house would one day be hers. Elinor reproved her sister for her impropriety in going alone with Willoughby to Allenham. Marianne, at first annoyed, later conceded her error. But her enthusiasm about the place, apparently prompted by dreams of future ownership, superseded any regrets. While Mrs. Jennings conjectured about Colonel Brandon's business in London, Elinor wondered about \"the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby\" about whether or not they were engaged. Willoughby was a constant visitor, and he and Marianne seemed to have reached a tacit agreement, which, however, needed verbalization. One day he begged Mrs. Dashwood, \"Tell me that not only your house will remain the same, but that I shall ever find you and yours unchanged as your dwelling.\" Mrs. Dashwood graciously accorded, and an engagement was made for dinner the next day.", "analysis": "The absence of commercial entertainment in Austen's day compelled provincial people to seek relaxation in their own homes and the homes of others. So we find the characters in Sense and Sensibility constantly involved in all sorts of social occasions. Only one novel  features picnics, but one is planned in Sense and Sensibility. As the month was October, and late for picnics, Elinor was right in preparing to be \"fatigued, wet through, and frightened.\" Only Sir John would have thought of such an idea to entertain his guests. Notice Austen's use of irony in representing Willoughby's sentimental attachment to Barton Cottage. No change was needed, although the kitchen smoked and the staircase was dark and narrow. Contrast this with Elinor's commonsensible perspective on her home."}
text: 
  
  Their intended excursion to Whitwell turned out very different from
  what Elinor had expected.  She was prepared to be wet through,
  fatigued, and frightened; but the event was still more unfortunate, for
  they did not go at all.
  
  By ten o'clock the whole party was assembled at the park, where they
  were to breakfast.  The morning was rather favourable, though it had
  rained all night, as the clouds were then dispersing across the sky,
  and the sun frequently appeared.  They were all in high spirits and
  good humour, eager to be happy, and determined to submit to the
  greatest inconveniences and hardships rather than be otherwise.
  
  While they were at breakfast the letters were brought in.  Among the
  rest there was one for Colonel Brandon;--he took it, looked at the
  direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room.
  
  "What is the matter with Brandon?" said Sir John.
  
  Nobody could tell.
  
  "I hope he has had no bad news," said Lady Middleton.  "It must be
  something extraordinary that could make Colonel Brandon leave my
  breakfast table so suddenly."
  
  In about five minutes he returned.
  
  "No bad news, Colonel, I hope;" said Mrs. Jennings, as soon as he
  entered the room.
  
  "None at all, ma'am, I thank you."
  
  "Was it from Avignon?  I hope it is not to say that your sister is
  worse."
  
  "No, ma'am. It came from town, and is merely a letter of business."
  
  "But how came the hand to discompose you so much, if it was only a
  letter of business?  Come, come, this won't do, Colonel; so let us hear
  the truth of it."
  
  "My dear madam," said Lady Middleton, "recollect what you are saying."
  
  "Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin Fanny is married?" said
  Mrs. Jennings, without attending to her daughter's reproof.
  
  "No, indeed, it is not."
  
  "Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel.  And I hope she is well."
  
  "Whom do you mean, ma'am?" said he, colouring a little.
  
  "Oh! you know who I mean."
  
  "I am particularly sorry, ma'am," said he, addressing Lady Middleton,
  "that I should receive this letter today, for it is on business which
  requires my immediate attendance in town."
  
  "In town!" cried Mrs. Jennings.  "What can you have to do in town at
  this time of year?"
  
  "My own loss is great," he continued, "in being obliged to leave so
  agreeable a party; but I am the more concerned, as I fear my presence
  is necessary to gain your admittance at Whitwell."
  
  What a blow upon them all was this!
  
  "But if you write a note to the housekeeper, Mr. Brandon," said
  Marianne, eagerly, "will it not be sufficient?"
  
  He shook his head.
  
  "We must go," said Sir John.--"It shall not be put off when we are so
  near it.  You cannot go to town till tomorrow, Brandon, that is all."
  
  "I wish it could be so easily settled.  But it is not in my power to
  delay my journey for one day!"
  
  "If you would but let us know what your business is," said Mrs.
  Jennings, "we might see whether it could be put off or not."
  
  "You would not be six hours later," said Willoughby, "if you were to
  defer your journey till our return."
  
  "I cannot afford to lose ONE hour."--
  
  Elinor then heard Willoughby say, in a low voice to Marianne, "There
  are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure.  Brandon is one of
  them.  He was afraid of catching cold I dare say, and invented this
  trick for getting out of it.  I would lay fifty guineas the letter was
  of his own writing."
  
  "I have no doubt of it," replied Marianne.
  
  "There is no persuading you to change your mind, Brandon, I know of
  old," said Sir John, "when once you are determined on anything.  But,
  however, I hope you will think better of it.  Consider, here are the
  two Miss Careys come over from Newton, the three Miss Dashwoods walked
  up from the cottage, and Mr. Willoughby got up two hours before his
  usual time, on purpose to go to Whitwell."
  
  Colonel Brandon again repeated his sorrow at being the cause of
  disappointing the party; but at the same time declared it to be
  unavoidable.
  
  "Well, then, when will you come back again?"
  
  "I hope we shall see you at Barton," added her ladyship, "as soon as
  you can conveniently leave town; and we must put off the party to
  Whitwell till you return."
  
  "You are very obliging.  But it is so uncertain, when I may have it in
  my power to return, that I dare not engage for it at all."
  
  "Oh! he must and shall come back," cried Sir John.  "If he is not here
  by the end of the week, I shall go after him."
  
  "Ay, so do, Sir John," cried Mrs. Jennings, "and then perhaps you may
  find out what his business is."
  
  "I do not want to pry into other men's concerns.  I suppose it is
  something he is ashamed of."
  
  Colonel Brandon's horses were announced.
  
  "You do not go to town on horseback, do you?" added Sir John.
  
  "No. Only to Honiton.  I shall then go post."
  
  "Well, as you are resolved to go, I wish you a good journey.  But you
  had better change your mind."
  
  "I assure you it is not in my power."
  
  He then took leave of the whole party.
  
  "Is there no chance of my seeing you and your sisters in town this
  winter, Miss Dashwood?"
  
  "I am afraid, none at all."
  
  "Then I must bid you farewell for a longer time than I should wish to
  do."
  
  To Marianne, he merely bowed and said nothing.
  
  "Come Colonel," said Mrs. Jennings, "before you go, do let us know what
  you are going about."
  
  He wished her a good morning, and, attended by Sir John, left the room.
  
  The complaints and lamentations which politeness had hitherto
  restrained, now burst forth universally; and they all agreed again and
  again how provoking it was to be so disappointed.
  
  "I can guess what his business is, however," said Mrs. Jennings
  exultingly.
  
  "Can you, ma'am?" said almost every body.
  
  "Yes; it is about Miss Williams, I am sure."
  
  "And who is Miss Williams?" asked Marianne.
  
  "What! do not you know who Miss Williams is? I am sure you must have
  heard of her before.  She is a relation of the Colonel's, my dear; a
  very near relation.  We will not say how near, for fear of shocking the
  young ladies." Then, lowering her voice a little, she said to Elinor,
  "She is his natural daughter."
  
  "Indeed!"
  
  "Oh, yes; and as like him as she can stare.  I dare say the Colonel
  will leave her all his fortune."
  
  When Sir John returned, he joined most heartily in the general regret
  on so unfortunate an event; concluding however by observing, that as
  they were all got together, they must do something by way of being
  happy; and after some consultation it was agreed, that although
  happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell, they might procure a
  tolerable composure of mind by driving about the country.  The
  carriages were then ordered; Willoughby's was first, and Marianne never
  looked happier than when she got into it.  He drove through the park
  very fast, and they were soon out of sight; and nothing more of them
  was seen till their return, which did not happen till after the return
  of all the rest.  They both seemed delighted with their drive; but said
  only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes, while the others
  went on the downs.
  
  It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening, and that
  every body should be extremely merry all day long.  Some more of the
  Careys came to dinner, and they had the pleasure of sitting down nearly
  twenty to table, which Sir John observed with great contentment.
  Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder Miss Dashwoods.
  Mrs. Jennings sat on Elinor's right hand; and they had not been long
  seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, and said to
  Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, "I have found you out in
  spite of all your tricks.  I know where you spent the morning."
  
  Marianne coloured, and replied very hastily, "Where, pray?"--
  
  "Did not you know," said Willoughby, "that we had been out in my
  curricle?"
  
  "Yes, yes, Mr. Impudence, I know that very well, and I was determined
  to find out WHERE you had been to.-- I hope you like your house, Miss
  Marianne.  It is a very large one, I know; and when I come to see you,
  I hope you will have new-furnished it, for it wanted it very much when
  I was there six years ago."
  
  Marianne turned away in great confusion.  Mrs. Jennings laughed
  heartily; and Elinor found that in her resolution to know where they
  had been, she had actually made her own woman enquire of Mr.
  Willoughby's groom; and that she had by that method been informed that
  they had gone to Allenham, and spent a considerable time there in
  walking about the garden and going all over the house.
  
  Elinor could hardly believe this to be true, as it seemed very unlikely
  that Willoughby should propose, or Marianne consent, to enter the house
  while Mrs. Smith was in it, with whom Marianne had not the smallest
  acquaintance.
  
  As soon as they left the dining-room, Elinor enquired of her about it;
  and great was her surprise when she found that every circumstance
  related by Mrs. Jennings was perfectly true.  Marianne was quite angry
  with her for doubting it.
  
  "Why should you imagine, Elinor, that we did not go there, or that we
  did not see the house?  Is not it what you have often wished to do
  yourself?"
  
  "Yes, Marianne, but I would not go while Mrs. Smith was there, and with
  no other companion than Mr. Willoughby."
  
  "Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can have a right to shew
  that house; and as he went in an open carriage, it was impossible to
  have any other companion.  I never spent a pleasanter morning in my
  life."
  
  "I am afraid," replied Elinor, "that the pleasantness of an employment
  does not always evince its propriety."
  
  "On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof of it, Elinor; for if
  there had been any real impropriety in what I did, I should have been
  sensible of it at the time, for we always know when we are acting
  wrong, and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure."
  
  "But, my dear Marianne, as it has already exposed you to some very
  impertinent remarks, do you not now begin to doubt the discretion of
  your own conduct?"
  
  "If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. Jennings are to be the proof of
  impropriety in conduct, we are all offending every moment of our lives.
  I value not her censure any more than I should do her commendation.  I
  am not sensible of having done anything wrong in walking over Mrs.
  Smith's grounds, or in seeing her house.  They will one day be Mr.
  Willoughby's, and--"
  
  "If they were one day to be your own, Marianne, you would not be
  justified in what you have done."
  
  She blushed at this hint; but it was even visibly gratifying to her;
  and after a ten minutes' interval of earnest thought, she came to her
  sister again, and said with great good humour, "Perhaps, Elinor, it WAS
  rather ill-judged in me to go to Allenham; but Mr. Willoughby wanted
  particularly to shew me the place; and it is a charming house, I assure
  you.--There is one remarkably pretty sitting room up stairs; of a nice
  comfortable size for constant use, and with modern furniture it would
  be delightful.  It is a corner room, and has windows on two sides.  On
  one side you look across the bowling-green, behind the house, to a
  beautiful hanging wood, and on the other you have a view of the church
  and village, and, beyond them, of those fine bold hills that we have so
  often admired.  I did not see it to advantage, for nothing could be
  more forlorn than the furniture,--but if it were newly fitted up--a
  couple of hundred pounds, Willoughby says, would make it one of the
  pleasantest summer-rooms in England."
  
  Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the others,
  she would have described every room in the house with equal delight.
  
  
  
  
  The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon's visit at the park, with his
  steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised the
  wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great
  wonderer, as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all
  the comings and goings of all their acquaintance.  She wondered, with
  little intermission what could be the reason of it; was sure there must
  be some bad news, and thought over every kind of distress that could
  have befallen him, with a fixed determination that he should not escape
  them all.
  
  "Something very melancholy must be the matter, I am sure," said she.
  "I could see it in his face.  Poor man!  I am afraid his circumstances
  may be bad.  The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two
  thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved.  I do
  think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can
  it be?  I wonder whether it is so.  I would give anything to know the
  truth of it.  Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare
  say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her.  May be
  she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a
  notion she is always rather sickly.  I would lay any wager it is about
  Miss Williams.  It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his
  circumstances NOW, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must
  have cleared the estate by this time.  I wonder what it can be!  May be
  his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over.  His setting
  off in such a hurry seems very like it.  Well, I wish him out of all
  his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain."
  
  So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings.  Her opinion varying with every
  fresh conjecture, and all seeming equally probable as they arose.
  Elinor, though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel
  Brandon, could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly away,
  which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling; for besides that the
  circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting amazement or
  variety of speculation, her wonder was otherwise disposed of.  It was
  engrossed by the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby on
  the subject, which they must know to be peculiarly interesting to them
  all.  As this silence continued, every day made it appear more strange
  and more incompatible with the disposition of both.  Why they should
  not openly acknowledge to her mother and herself, what their constant
  behaviour to each other declared to have taken place, Elinor could not
  imagine.
  
  She could easily conceive that marriage might not be immediately in
  their power; for though Willoughby was independent, there was no reason
  to believe him rich.  His estate had been rated by Sir John at about
  six or seven hundred a year; but he lived at an expense to which that
  income could hardly be equal, and he had himself often complained of
  his poverty.  But for this strange kind of secrecy maintained by them
  relative to their engagement, which in fact concealed nothing at all,
  she could not account; and it was so wholly contradictory to their
  general opinions and practice, that a doubt sometimes entered her mind
  of their being really engaged, and this doubt was enough to prevent her
  making any inquiry of Marianne.
  
  Nothing could be more expressive of attachment to them all, than
  Willoughby's behaviour.  To Marianne it had all the distinguishing
  tenderness which a lover's heart could give, and to the rest of the
  family it was the affectionate attention of a son and a brother.  The
  cottage seemed to be considered and loved by him as his home; many more
  of his hours were spent there than at Allenham; and if no general
  engagement collected them at the park, the exercise which called him
  out in the morning was almost certain of ending there, where the rest
  of the day was spent by himself at the side of Marianne, and by his
  favourite pointer at her feet.
  
  One evening in particular, about a week after Colonel Brandon left the
  country, his heart seemed more than usually open to every feeling of
  attachment to the objects around him; and on Mrs. Dashwood's happening
  to mention her design of improving the cottage in the spring, he warmly
  opposed every alteration of a place which affection had established as
  perfect with him.
  
  "What!" he exclaimed--"Improve this dear cottage!  No. THAT I will
  never consent to.  Not a stone must be added to its walls, not an inch
  to its size, if my feelings are regarded."
  
  "Do not be alarmed," said Miss Dashwood, "nothing of the kind will be
  done; for my mother will never have money enough to attempt it."
  
  "I am heartily glad of it," he cried.  "May she always be poor, if she
  can employ her riches no better."
  
  "Thank you, Willoughby.  But you may be assured that I would not
  sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment of yours, or of any one
  whom I loved, for all the improvements in the world.  Depend upon it
  that whatever unemployed sum may remain, when I make up my accounts in
  the spring, I would even rather lay it uselessly by than dispose of it
  in a manner so painful to you.  But are you really so attached to this
  place as to see no defect in it?"
  
  "I am," said he.  "To me it is faultless.  Nay, more, I consider it as
  the only form of building in which happiness is attainable, and were I
  rich enough I would instantly pull Combe down, and build it up again in
  the exact plan of this cottage."
  
  "With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes, I suppose," said
  Elinor.
  
  "Yes," cried he in the same eager tone, "with all and every thing
  belonging to it;--in no one convenience or INconvenience about it,
  should the least variation be perceptible.  Then, and then only, under
  such a roof, I might perhaps be as happy at Combe as I have been at
  Barton."
  
  "I flatter myself," replied Elinor, "that even under the disadvantage
  of better rooms and a broader staircase, you will hereafter find your
  own house as faultless as you now do this."
  
  "There certainly are circumstances," said Willoughby, "which might
  greatly endear it to me; but this place will always have one claim of
  my affection, which no other can possibly share."
  
  Mrs. Dashwood looked with pleasure at Marianne, whose fine eyes were
  fixed so expressively on Willoughby, as plainly denoted how well she
  understood him.
  
  "How often did I wish," added he, "when I was at Allenham this time
  twelvemonth, that Barton cottage were inhabited!  I never passed within
  view of it without admiring its situation, and grieving that no one
  should live in it.  How little did I then think that the very first
  news I should hear from Mrs. Smith, when I next came into the country,
  would be that Barton cottage was taken: and I felt an immediate
  satisfaction and interest in the event, which nothing but a kind of
  prescience of what happiness I should experience from it, can account
  for.  Must it not have been so, Marianne?" speaking to her in a lowered
  voice.  Then continuing his former tone, he said, "And yet this house
  you would spoil, Mrs. Dashwood?  You would rob it of its simplicity by
  imaginary improvement! and this dear parlour in which our acquaintance
  first began, and in which so many happy hours have been since spent by
  us together, you would degrade to the condition of a common entrance,
  and every body would be eager to pass through the room which has
  hitherto contained within itself more real accommodation and comfort
  than any other apartment of the handsomest dimensions in the world
  could possibly afford."
  
  Mrs. Dashwood again assured him that no alteration of the kind should
  be attempted.
  
  "You are a good woman," he warmly replied.  "Your promise makes me
  easy.  Extend it a little farther, and it will make me happy.  Tell me
  that not only your house will remain the same, but that I shall ever
  find you and yours as unchanged as your dwelling; and that you will
  always consider me with the kindness which has made everything
  belonging to you so dear to me."
  
  The promise was readily given, and Willoughby's behaviour during the
  whole of the evening declared at once his affection and happiness.
  
  "Shall we see you tomorrow to dinner?" said Mrs. Dashwood, when he was
  leaving them.  "I do not ask you to come in the morning, for we must
  walk to the park, to call on Lady Middleton."
  
  He engaged to be with them by four o'clock.
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Chapters 13-14
target: While the party breakfasted at Barton Hall, a letter came for Colonel Brandon. He "took it, looked at the direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room." He soon returned, saying that he was obliged to leave for London and regretting that the party would not be able to go to Whitwell without him. Mrs. Jennings intimated that she knew who the letter was from, and after Brandon left told the group about a Miss Williams, the colonel's natural daughter. Sir John arranged for the party to drive in the country. Marianne and Willoughby dashed off in the first carriage and returned after the last one, telling no one where they had been. However, during a dance that evening, Mrs. Jennings told Marianne that she had found out where they had been. Having questioned the groom, she learned that Willoughby had taken Marianne to Allenham and shown her over the house. Despite Marianne's embarrassment, Mrs. Jennings continued to banter the girl on how the house would one day be hers. Elinor reproved her sister for her impropriety in going alone with Willoughby to Allenham. Marianne, at first annoyed, later conceded her error. But her enthusiasm about the place, apparently prompted by dreams of future ownership, superseded any regrets. While Mrs. Jennings conjectured about Colonel Brandon's business in London, Elinor wondered about "the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby" about whether or not they were engaged. Willoughby was a constant visitor, and he and Marianne seemed to have reached a tacit agreement, which, however, needed verbalization. One day he begged Mrs. Dashwood, "Tell me that not only your house will remain the same, but that I shall ever find you and yours unchanged as your dwelling." Mrs. Dashwood graciously accorded, and an engagement was made for dinner the next day.
feat_summary_analysis: The absence of commercial entertainment in Austen's day compelled provincial people to seek relaxation in their own homes and the homes of others. So we find the characters in Sense and Sensibility constantly involved in all sorts of social occasions. Only one novel  features picnics, but one is planned in Sense and Sensibility. As the month was October, and late for picnics, Elinor was right in preparing to be "fatigued, wet through, and frightened." Only Sir John would have thought of such an idea to entertain his guests. Notice Austen's use of irony in representing Willoughby's sentimental attachment to Barton Cottage. No change was needed, although the kitchen smoked and the staircase was dark and narrow. Contrast this with Elinor's commonsensible perspective on her home.