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went out alone for the rest of the morning。 Elinor； with a very
heavy heart； aware of the pain she was going to communicate； and
perceiving； by Marianne’s letter； how ill she had succeeded in
laying any foundation for it； then sat down to write her mother an
account of what had passed； and entreat her directions for the
future； while Marianne； who came into the drawing…room on Mrs。
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Jennings’s going away； remained fixed at the table where Elinor
wrote； watching the advancement of her pen； grieving over her for
the hardship of such a task； and grieving still more fondly over its
effect on her mother。
In this manner they had continued about a quarter of an hour；
when Marianne； whose nerves could not then bear any sudden
noise； was startled by a rap at the door。
“Who can this be？” cried Elinor。 “So early too！ I thought we had
been safe。”
Marianne moved to the window—
“It is Colonel Brandon！” said she； with vexation。 “We are never
safe from him。”
“He will not come in； as Mrs。 Jennings is from home。”
“I will not trust to that；” retreating to her own room。 “A man
who has nothing to do with his own time has no conscience in his
intrusion on that of others。”
The event proved her conjecture right； though it was founded
on injustice and error； for Colonel Brandon did come in； and
Elinor； who was convinced that solicitude for Marianne brought
him thither； and who saw that solicitude in his disturbed and
melancholy look； and in his anxious though brief inquiry after her；
could not forgive her sister for esteeming him so lightly。
“I met Mrs。 Jennings in Bond…street；” said he； after the first
salutation； “and she encouraged me to come on； and I was the
more easily encouraged； because I thought it probable that I might
find you alone； which I was very desirous of doing。 My object—my
wish—my sole wish in desiring it—I hope； I believe it is—is to be a
means of giving comfort；—no； I must not say comfort—not present
comfort—but conviction； lasting conviction to your sister’s mind。
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My regard for her； for yourself； for your mother—will you allow
me to prove it； by relating some circumstances which nothing but
a very sincere regard—nothing but an earnest desire of being
useful—I think I am justified—though where so many hours have
been spent in convincing myself that I am right； is there not some
reason to fear I may be wrong？” He stopped。
“I understand you；” said Elinor。 “You have something to tell me
of Mr。 Willoughby； that will open his character farther。 Your
telling it will be the greatest act of friendship that can be shewn
Marianne。 My gratitude will be insured immediately by any
information tending to that end； and hers must be gained by it in
time。 Pray； pray let me hear it。”
“You shall； and； to be brief； when I quitted Barton last
October；—but this will give you no idea—I must go farther back。
You will find me a very awkward narrator； Miss Dashwood； I
hardly know where to begin。 A short account of myself； I believe；
will be necessary； and it shall be a short one。 On such a subject；”
sighing heavily； “I can have little temptation to be diffuse。”
He stopt a moment for recollection； and then； with another sigh；
went on。
“You have probably entirely forgotten a conversation—（it is not
to be supposed that it could make any impression on you）—a
conversation between us one evening at Barton Park—it was the
evening of a dance—in which I alluded to a lady I had once known；
as resembling； in some measure； your sister Marianne。”
“Indeed；” answered Elinor； “I have not forgotten it。” He looked
pleased by this remembrance； and added；
“If I am not deceived by the uncertainty； the partiality of tender
recollection； there is a very strong resemblance between them； as
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well in mind as person。 The same warmth of heart； the same
eagerness of fancy and spirits。 This lady was one of my nearest
relations； an orphan from her infancy； and under the guardianship
of my father。 Our ages were nearly the same； and from our earliest
years we were playfellows and friends。 I cannot remember the
time when I did not love Eliza； and my affection for her； as we
grew up； was such； as perhaps； judging from my present forlorn
and cheerless gravity； you might think me incapable of having
ever felt。 Her’s； for me； was； I believe； fervent as the attachment of
your sister to Mr。 Willoughby and it was； though from a different
cause； no less unfortunate。 At seventeen she was lost to me for
ever。 She was married—married against her inclination to my
brother。 Her fortune was large； and our family estate much
encumbered。 And this； I fear； is all that can be said for the conduct
of one； who was at once her uncle and guardian。 My brother did
not deserve her； he did not even love her。 I had hoped that her
regard for me would support her under any difficulty； and for
some time it did； but at last the misery of her situation； for she
experienced great unkindness； overcame all her resolution； and
though she had promised me that nothing—but how blindly I
relate！ I have never told you how this was brought on。 We were
within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland。 The treachery；
or the folly； of my cousin’s maid betrayed us。 I was banished to the
house of a relation far distant； and she was allowed no liberty； no
society； no amusement； till my father’s point was gained。 I had
depended on her fortitude too far； and the