Sense and Sensibility. Джейн Остин
inviting them to dine at the Park the next day, or to drink tea with them that evening. On the present occasion, for the better entertainment of their visitor, towards whose amusement he felt himself bound to contribute, he wished to engage them for both.
‘You must drink tea with us to-night,’ said he, ‘for we shall be quite alone – and to-morrow you must absolutely dine with us, for we shall be a large party.’
Mrs Jennings enforced the necessity. ‘And who knows but you may raise a dance,’ said she. ‘And that will tempt you, Miss Marianne.’
‘A dance!’ cried Marianne. ‘Impossible! Who is to dance?’
‘Who! why yourselves, and the Careys, and Whitakers to be sure. – What! you thought nobody could dance because a certain person that shall be nameless is gone!’
‘I wish with all my soul,’ cried Sir John, ‘that Willoughby were among us again.’
This, and Marianne’s blushing, gave new suspicions to Edward. ‘And who is Willoughby?’ said he, in a low voice, to Miss Dashwood, by whom he was sitting.
She gave him a brief reply. Marianne’s countenance was more communicative. Edward saw enough to comprehend, not only the meaning of others, but such of Marianne’s expressions as had puzzled him before; and when their visitors left them, he went immediately round to her, and said, in a whisper, ‘I have been guessing. Shall I tell you my guess?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Shall I tell you?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Well then; I guess that Mr Willoughby hunts.’
Marianne was surprized and confused, yet she could not help smiling at the quiet archness of his manner, and after a moment’s silence, said,
‘Oh, Edward! How can you? – But the time will come I hope…I am sure you will like him.’
‘I do not doubt it,’ replied he, rather astonished at her earnestness and warmth; for had he not imagined it to be a joke for the good of her acquaintance in general, founded only on a something or a nothing between Mr Willoughby and herself, he would not have ventured to mention it.
Edward remained a week at the Cottage; he was earnestly pressed by Mrs Dashwood to stay longer; but, as if he were bent only on self-mortification, he seemed resolved to be gone when his enjoyment among his friends was at the height. His spirits, during the last two or three days, though still very unequal, were greatly improved – he grew more and more partial to the house and environs – never spoke of going away without a sigh – declared his time to be wholly disengaged – even doubted to what place he should go when he left them – but still, go he must. Never had any week passed so quickly – he could hardly believe it to be gone. He said so repeatedly; other things he said too, which marked the turn of his feelings and gave the lie to his actions. He had no pleasure at Norland; he detested being in town; but either to Norland or London, he must go. He valued their kindness beyond any thing, and his greatest happiness was in being with them. Yet, he must leave them at the end of a week, in spite of their wishes and his own, and without any restraint on his time.
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