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Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
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Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen Chapter 45 Chapter 45 Eleanor,
For some time after he left her,
Remained too much oppressed by a crowd of ideas to think even of her sister.
Willoughby,
He whom only half an hour ago she had abhorred as the most worthless of men,
Excited a degree of commiseration for the sufferings produced by them which made her think of him as now separated forever from her family,
With a tenderness,
A regret,
Rather in proportion to his wishes than to his merits.
She felt that his influence over her mind was heightened by that still ardent love for Marianne,
Which it was not even innocent to indulge.
When at last she returned to the unconscious Marianne,
She found her just awaking,
Refreshed by so long and sweet a sleep,
To the extent of her hopes.
Eleanor's heart was full.
The past,
The present,
The future,
Willoughby's visit,
Marianne's safety and her mother's expected arrival threw her altogether into an agitation of spirits which kept off every indication of fatigue and made her only fearful of betraying herself to her sister.
Within half an hour after Willoughby's leaving the house,
She was again called downstairs by the sound of another carriage.
Eager to save her mother from every unnecessary moment's horrible surprise,
Horrible suspense,
She ran immediately into the hall and reached the outward door just in time to receive and support her as she entered it.
Mrs.
Dashwood,
Whose terror as they drew near the house had produced almost the conviction of Marianne's being no more,
Had no voice to inquire after her.
But Eleanor,
Waiting neither for salutation nor inquiry,
Instantly gave the joyful relief.
And her mother,
Catching it with all her usual warmth,
Was in a moment as much overcome by her happiness as she had been before by her fears.
As soon as Mrs.
Dashwood had recovered herself,
To see Marianne was her first desire,
And in two minutes she was with her beloved child.
Eleanor's delight was only checked by an apprehension of its robbing Marianne of further sleep.
But Mrs.
Dashwood could be calm when the laugh of a child was at stake.
And Marianne,
Satisfied in knowing her mother was near and conscious of being too weak for conversation,
Submitted readily to the silence and quiet prescribed by every nurse around her.
Mrs.
Dashwood would sit up with her all night,
And Eleanor,
In compliance with her mother's entreaty,
Went to bed.
But the rest was kept off by irritation of spirits.
Willoughby,
Poor Willoughby,
As she now allowed herself to call him,
Was constantly in her thoughts.
She would not but have heard his vindication for the world,
And now blamed,
Now acquitted herself for having judged him so harshly.
But her promise of relating it to her sister was invariably painful.
She dreaded what its effect on Marianne might be,
Doubted whether after such an explanation she could ever be happy with another,
And for a moment wished Willoughby a widower.
Then,
Remembering Colonel Brandon,
Reproved herself,
Felt that to his sufferings and his constantly,
Far more than to his rival's,
The reward of her sister was due.
Marianne continued to mend every day,
And the brightful cheerfulness of Mrs.
Dashwood's looks and spirits proved her to be,
As she repeatedly declared herself,
One of the happiest women in the world.
Marianne was restored to her from a danger in which,
As she now began to feel,
Her own mistaken judgment in encouraging the unfortunate attachment to Willoughby.
And in her recovery she had yet another source of joy,
Unthought of by Eleanor.
It was thus imparted to her as soon as any opportunity of private conference between them occurred.
At last we are alone.
My Eleanor,
You do not yet know my happiness.
Colonel Brandon loves Marianne.
He has told me so himself.
Eleanor,
Feeling by turns both pleased and pained,
Surprised and not surprised,
Was all attention.
You were never like me,
Dear Eleanor,
Or I should wonder at your composure now,
Added her mother.
Had I sat down to wish for any possible good to my family,
I should have fixed on Colonel Brandon's marrying one of you as the object most desirable.
And I believe Marianne will be the most happy with him of the two.
He opened his whole heart to me yesterday as we travelled.
I,
You may well believe,
Could talk of nothing but my child.
He could not conceal his distress.
I saw that it equalled my own,
And he perhaps,
Thinking that mere friendship,
As the world now goes,
Would not justify so warm a sympathy,
Or rather not thinking at all,
I suppose,
Giving way to irresistible feelings,
Made me acquainted with his earnest,
Tender,
Constant affection for Marianne.
He has loved her,
My Eleanor,
Ever since the first moment of seeing her.
His regard for her,
Infinitely surpassing anything that Willoughby ever felt or feigned,
As much more warm,
As more sincere or constant,
Has subsisted through all the knowledge of dear Marianne's unhappy prepossession for that worthless young man.
And without selfishness could he have seen or happy with another.
Such openness,
Such sincerity!
No one can be deceived in him.
Colonel Brandon's character,
Said Eleanor,
As an excellent man,
Is well established.
I know it is,
Replied her mother seriously,
Or after such a warning,
I should be the last to encourage such affection.
But his coming for me as he did,
With such active,
Such ready friendship,
Is enough to prove him one of the worthiest of men.
His character,
However,
Answered Eleanor,
Does not rest on one act of kindness.
To Mrs.
Jennings,
To the Middletons,
He has been long and intimately known,
And so highly do I value and esteem him,
That if Marianne can be happy with him,
I shall be as ready as yourself to think our connection to the greatest blessing to us in the world.
What answer did you give him?
Did you allow him to hope?
Oh my love,
I could not then talk of hope to him or myself.
Marianne might at that moment be dying.
Yet after a time I did say,
For at first I was quite overcome,
That if she lived as I trusted she might,
My greatest happiness would lie in promoting their marriage.
Time,
A very little time,
I told him,
Would do for everything.
Marianne's heart is not to be wasted forever on such a man as Willoughby.
His own merits must soon secure it.
To judge from the Colonel's spirits,
However,
Said Eleanor,
You have not yet made him equally sanguine.
No,
He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply rooted for any change in it under a great length of time,
And is too diffident of himself to believe with such a difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her.
There,
However,
He is mistaken.
His age is only so much beyond hers as to be an advantage,
As to make his character and principles fixed,
And his disposition,
I am well convinced,
Is exactly the very one to make your sister happy.
And his manners.
The Colonel's manners are not only more pleasing to me than Willoughby's ever were,
But they are of a kind I well know to be more solidly attaching to Marianne.
Their gentleness,
Their gentle attention to other people,
Is much more accordant with her real disposition than the liveliness of the other.
I am very sure myself that had Willoughby turned out as really amiable as he's proved himself the contrary,
Marianne would never yet have been so happy with him as she will be with Colonel Brandon.
Mrs.
Dashwood paused.
Her daughter could not quite agree with her,
But her dissent was not heard,
And therefore gave no offence.
At Delaford she will be within an easy reach of me,
She added,
Even if I remain at Barton,
And in all probability,
Indeed,
There certainly must be some small house or cottage close by that would suit us quite as well as our present situation.
Poor Eleanor.
Here was a new scheme for getting her to Delaford,
But her spirit was stubborn.
Then her mother continued.
His fortune too.
Put my time of life,
You know,
Everybody cares about that,
And though I neither know nor desire to know what it really is,
I am sure it must be a good one.
