feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/shmoop/Sense and Sensibility/section_26_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: Sense and Sensibility.chapter 27
feat_summary_id: chapter 27
feat_summary: {"name": "Chapter 27", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210421140324/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/sense-and-sensibility/summary/chapter-27", "summary": "Mrs. Jennings remarks casually that it's too bad the weather is so nice - it must be keeping anyone interested in hunting at home in the country. Marianne is heartened by this idea - after all, Willoughby loves to hunt, so maybe he's still home at Combe Magna. She's suddenly in a good mood. Elinor, hoping to distract Mrs. Jennings, says that surely Lady Middleton and Sir John will come by the end of the week. She silently observes that Marianne will doubtless write to Willoughby in the country. The ladies spend the morning visiting various friends of Mrs. Jennings's, and Marianne spends the whole time observing the weather. Elinor finds her sister's behavior both hilarious and worrying. Everything is quite pleasant in Mrs. Jennings' home, and the girls are fairly content, at least for now. Colonel Brandon comes to visit practically every day, and Elinor worries about how hard he's fallen for Marianne. He's obviously more in love with her than ever. After about a week of this, Willoughby shows up - unfortunately, he stops by when nobody's around, and leaves his calling card behind as proof of his visit. Marianne freaks out, and Elinor reassures her that he'll visit again the next day. However, the next morning, Marianne stays home, but nobody comes to visit. A note arrives, and Marianne rudely snatches it up. Unfortunately, it's not from Willoughby. The letter, which is actually for Mrs. Jennings, informs them that the Middletons have finally arrived. Lady Middleton invites them to dinner the next evening, as various things prevent them from visiting the Jennings abode themselves. Elinor persuades Marianne to go along, even though she'd rather stay home and wait for Willoughby to call. Sir John seems to be the same in town and in the country - as usual, he's invited a ton of people over for a raging party, including the Palmers, and a bunch of other folks. Mr. Palmer says a cursory and awkward hello. In general, the evening seems pretty disappointing, especially because Willoughby isn't there. When they arrive home, Mrs. Jennings lets slip the fact that Willoughby was invited to the party - but just didn't show. Marianne is shocked and hurt. She immediately writes another letter to him in the morning. Elinor writes to her mother, seeking help on the Willoughby front. Colonel Brandon shows up as soon as Elinor finishes her letter, and Marianne flees the room before he enters. Colonel Brandon is actually relieved to just find Elinor - apparently, he has something to tell her in private. He brings up the topic of Willoughby, commenting that it's a well-known fact that he and Marianne are engaged. Elinor assures him that it's not that well-known - after all, even she and her mother don't know it for sure. The colonel says that he's heard it from many people, including Mrs. Jennings, the Palmers, and the Middletons. He has come to see if the engagement is absolutely, 100% for sure or not. Elinor answers that she's not surprised by the rumors, though Marianne hasn't told her anything. Colonel Brandon simply wishes the couple the greatest happiness, and leaves without another word. Elinor is saddened by this conversation, but torn between her pity for Colonel Brandon, and her desire to see the whole Willoughby/Marianne issue resolved.", "analysis": ""}
text: 
  
  "If this open weather holds much longer," said Mrs. Jennings, when they
  met at breakfast the following morning, "Sir John will not like leaving
  Barton next week; 'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a day's
  pleasure.  Poor souls!  I always pity them when they do; they seem to
  take it so much to heart."
  
  "That is true," cried Marianne, in a cheerful voice, and walking to the
  window as she spoke, to examine the day.  "I had not thought of that.
  This weather will keep many sportsmen in the country."
  
  It was a lucky recollection, all her good spirits were restored by it.
  "It is charming weather for THEM indeed," she continued, as she sat
  down to the breakfast table with a happy countenance.  "How much they
  must enjoy it! But" (with a little return of anxiety) "it cannot be
  expected to last long.  At this time of the year, and after such a
  series of rain, we shall certainly have very little more of it.  Frosts
  will soon set in, and in all probability with severity.  In another day
  or two perhaps; this extreme mildness can hardly last longer--nay,
  perhaps it may freeze tonight!"
  
  "At any rate," said Elinor, wishing to prevent Mrs. Jennings from
  seeing her sister's thoughts as clearly as she did, "I dare say we
  shall have Sir John and Lady Middleton in town by the end of next week."
  
  "Ay, my dear, I'll warrant you we do.  Mary always has her own way."
  
  "And now," silently conjectured Elinor, "she will write to Combe by
  this day's post."
  
  But if she DID, the letter was written and sent away with a privacy
  which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertain the fact.  Whatever the
  truth of it might be, and far as Elinor was from feeling thorough
  contentment about it, yet while she saw Marianne in spirits, she could
  not be very uncomfortable herself.  And Marianne was in spirits; happy
  in the mildness of the weather, and still happier in her expectation of
  a frost.
  
  The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards at the houses of Mrs.
  Jennings's acquaintance to inform them of her being in town; and
  Marianne was all the time busy in observing the direction of the wind,
  watching the variations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the
  air.
  
  "Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning, Elinor? There
  seems to me a very decided difference.  I can hardly keep my hands warm
  even in my muff.  It was not so yesterday, I think.  The clouds seem
  parting too, the sun will be out in a moment, and we shall have a clear
  afternoon."
  
  Elinor was alternately diverted and pained; but Marianne persevered,
  and saw every night in the brightness of the fire, and every morning in
  the appearance of the atmosphere, the certain symptoms of approaching
  frost.
  
  The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be dissatisfied with Mrs.
  Jennings's style of living, and set of acquaintance, than with her
  behaviour to themselves, which was invariably kind.  Every thing in her
  household arrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan, and
  excepting a few old city friends, whom, to Lady Middleton's regret, she
  had never dropped, she visited no one to whom an introduction could at
  all discompose the feelings of her young companions.  Pleased to find
  herself more comfortably situated in that particular than she had
  expected, Elinor was very willing to compound for the want of much real
  enjoyment from any of their evening parties, which, whether at home or
  abroad, formed only for cards, could have little to amuse her.
  
  Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitation to the house, was with
  them almost every day; he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor,
  who often derived more satisfaction from conversing with him than from
  any other daily occurrence, but who saw at the same time with much
  concern his continued regard for her sister.  She feared it was a
  strengthening regard.  It grieved her to see the earnestness with which
  he often watched Marianne, and his spirits were certainly worse than
  when at Barton.
  
  About a week after their arrival, it became certain that Willoughby was
  also arrived.  His card was on the table when they came in from the
  morning's drive.
  
  "Good God!" cried Marianne, "he has been here while we were out."
  Elinor, rejoiced to be assured of his being in London, now ventured to
  say, "Depend upon it, he will call again tomorrow."  But Marianne
  seemed hardly to hear her, and on Mrs. Jennings's entrance, escaped with
  the precious card.
  
  This event, while it raised the spirits of Elinor, restored to those of
  her sister all, and more than all, their former agitation.  From this
  moment her mind was never quiet; the expectation of seeing him every
  hour of the day, made her unfit for any thing.  She insisted on being
  left behind, the next morning, when the others went out.
  
  Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passing in Berkeley Street
  during their absence; but a moment's glance at her sister when they
  returned was enough to inform her, that Willoughby had paid no second
  visit there.  A note was just then brought in, and laid on the table.
  
  "For me!" cried Marianne, stepping hastily forward.
  
  "No, ma'am, for my mistress."
  
  But Marianne, not convinced, took it instantly up.
  
  "It is indeed for Mrs. Jennings; how provoking!"
  
  "You are expecting a letter, then?" said Elinor, unable to be longer
  silent.
  
  "Yes, a little--not much."
  
  After a short pause.  "You have no confidence in me, Marianne."
  
  "Nay, Elinor, this reproach from YOU--you who have confidence in no
  one!"
  
  "Me!" returned Elinor in some confusion; "indeed, Marianne, I have
  nothing to tell."
  
  "Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situations then are alike.
  We have neither of us any thing to tell; you, because you do not
  communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing."
  
  Elinor, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself, which she was
  not at liberty to do away, knew not how, under such circumstances, to
  press for greater openness in Marianne.
  
  Mrs. Jennings soon appeared, and the note being given her, she read it
  aloud.  It was from Lady Middleton, announcing their arrival in Conduit
  Street the night before, and requesting the company of her mother and
  cousins the following evening.  Business on Sir John's part, and a
  violent cold on her own, prevented their calling in Berkeley Street.
  The invitation was accepted; but when the hour of appointment drew
  near, necessary as it was in common civility to Mrs. Jennings, that
  they should both attend her on such a visit, Elinor had some difficulty
  in persuading her sister to go, for still she had seen nothing of
  Willoughby; and therefore was not more indisposed for amusement abroad,
  than unwilling to run the risk of his calling again in her absence.
  
  Elinor found, when the evening was over, that disposition is not
  materially altered by a change of abode, for although scarcely settled
  in town, Sir John had contrived to collect around him, nearly twenty
  young people, and to amuse them with a ball.  This was an affair,
  however, of which Lady Middleton did not approve.  In the country, an
  unpremeditated dance was very allowable; but in London, where the
  reputation of elegance was more important and less easily attained, it
  was risking too much for the gratification of a few girls, to have it
  known that Lady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine
  couple, with two violins, and a mere side-board collation.
  
  Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were of the party; from the former, whom they had
  not seen before since their arrival in town, as he was careful to avoid
  the appearance of any attention to his mother-in-law, and therefore
  never came near her, they received no mark of recognition on their
  entrance.  He looked at them slightly, without seeming to know who they
  were, and merely nodded to Mrs. Jennings from the other side of the
  room.  Marianne gave one glance round the apartment as she entered: it
  was enough--HE was not there--and she sat down, equally ill-disposed to
  receive or communicate pleasure.  After they had been assembled about
  an hour, Mr. Palmer sauntered towards the Miss Dashwoods to express his
  surprise on seeing them in town, though Colonel Brandon had been first
  informed of their arrival at his house, and he had himself said
  something very droll on hearing that they were to come.
  
  "I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he.
  
  "Did you?" replied Elinor.
  
  "When do you go back again?"
  
  "I do not know." And thus ended their discourse.
  
  Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance in her life, as she was
  that evening, and never so much fatigued by the exercise.  She
  complained of it as they returned to Berkeley Street.
  
  "Aye, aye," said Mrs. Jennings, "we know the reason of all that very
  well; if a certain person who shall be nameless, had been there, you
  would not have been a bit tired: and to say the truth it was not very
  pretty of him not to give you the meeting when he was invited."
  
  "Invited!" cried Marianne.
  
  "So my daughter Middleton told me, for it seems Sir John met him
  somewhere in the street this morning." Marianne said no more, but
  looked exceedingly hurt.  Impatient in this situation to be doing
  something that might lead to her sister's relief, Elinor resolved to
  write the next morning to her mother, and hoped by awakening her fears
  for the health of Marianne, to procure those inquiries which had been
  so long delayed; and she was still more eagerly bent on this measure by
  perceiving after breakfast on the morrow, that Marianne was again
  writing to Willoughby, for she could not suppose it to be to any other
  person.
  
  About the middle of the day, Mrs. Jennings went out by herself on
  business, and Elinor began her letter directly, while Marianne, too
  restless for employment, too anxious for conversation, walked from one
  window to the other, or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation.
  Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother, relating all
  that had passed, her suspicions of Willoughby's inconstancy, urging her
  by every plea of duty and affection to demand from Marianne an account
  of her real situation with respect to him.
  
  Her letter was scarcely finished, when a rap foretold a visitor, and
  Colonel Brandon was announced.  Marianne, who had seen him from the
  window, and who hated company of any kind, left the room before he
  entered it.  He looked more than usually grave, and though expressing
  satisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone, as if he had somewhat in
  particular to tell her, sat for some time without saying a word.
  Elinor, persuaded that he had some communication to make in which her
  sister was concerned, impatiently expected its opening.  It was not the
  first time of her feeling the same kind of conviction; for, more than
  once before, beginning with the observation of "your sister looks
  unwell to-day," or "your sister seems out of spirits," he had appeared
  on the point, either of disclosing, or of inquiring, something
  particular about her.  After a pause of several minutes, their silence
  was broken, by his asking her in a voice of some agitation, when he was
  to congratulate her on the acquisition of a brother?  Elinor was not
  prepared for such a question, and having no answer ready, was obliged
  to adopt the simple and common expedient, of asking what he meant?  He
  tried to smile as he replied, "your sister's engagement to Mr.
  Willoughby is very generally known."
  
  "It cannot be generally known," returned Elinor, "for her own family do
  not know it."
  
  He looked surprised and said, "I beg your pardon, I am afraid my
  inquiry has been impertinent; but I had not supposed any secrecy
  intended, as they openly correspond, and their marriage is universally
  talked of."
  
  "How can that be? By whom can you have heard it mentioned?"
  
  "By many--by some of whom you know nothing, by others with whom you are
  most intimate, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer, and the Middletons.  But
  still I might not have believed it, for where the mind is perhaps
  rather unwilling to be convinced, it will always find something to
  support its doubts, if I had not, when the servant let me in today,
  accidentally seen a letter in his hand, directed to Mr. Willoughby in
  your sister's writing.  I came to inquire, but I was convinced before I
  could ask the question.  Is every thing finally settled?  Is it
  impossible to-?  But I have no right, and I could have no chance of
  succeeding.  Excuse me, Miss Dashwood.  I believe I have been wrong in
  saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and on your prudence I
  have the strongest dependence.  Tell me that it is all absolutely
  resolved on, that any attempt, that in short concealment, if
  concealment be possible, is all that remains."
  
  These words, which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowal of his love for
  her sister, affected her very much.  She was not immediately able to
  say anything, and even when her spirits were recovered, she debated for
  a short time, on the answer it would be most proper to give.  The real
  state of things between Willoughby and her sister was so little known
  to herself, that in endeavouring to explain it, she might be as liable
  to say too much as too little.  Yet as she was convinced that
  Marianne's affection for Willoughby, could leave no hope of Colonel
  Brandon's success, whatever the event of that affection might be, and
  at the same time wished to shield her conduct from censure, she thought
  it most prudent and kind, after some consideration, to say more than
  she really knew or believed.  She acknowledged, therefore, that though
  she had never been informed by themselves of the terms on which they
  stood with each other, of their mutual affection she had no doubt, and
  of their correspondence she was not astonished to hear.
  
  He listened to her with silent attention, and on her ceasing to speak,
  rose directly from his seat, and after saying in a voice of emotion,
  "to your sister I wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that he
  may endeavour to deserve her,"--took leave, and went away.
  
  Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from this conversation, to
  lessen the uneasiness of her mind on other points; she was left, on the
  contrary, with a melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's
  unhappiness, and was prevented even from wishing it removed, by her
  anxiety for the very event that must confirm it.
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Chapter 27
target: Mrs. Jennings remarks casually that it's too bad the weather is so nice - it must be keeping anyone interested in hunting at home in the country. Marianne is heartened by this idea - after all, Willoughby loves to hunt, so maybe he's still home at Combe Magna. She's suddenly in a good mood. Elinor, hoping to distract Mrs. Jennings, says that surely Lady Middleton and Sir John will come by the end of the week. She silently observes that Marianne will doubtless write to Willoughby in the country. The ladies spend the morning visiting various friends of Mrs. Jennings's, and Marianne spends the whole time observing the weather. Elinor finds her sister's behavior both hilarious and worrying. Everything is quite pleasant in Mrs. Jennings' home, and the girls are fairly content, at least for now. Colonel Brandon comes to visit practically every day, and Elinor worries about how hard he's fallen for Marianne. He's obviously more in love with her than ever. After about a week of this, Willoughby shows up - unfortunately, he stops by when nobody's around, and leaves his calling card behind as proof of his visit. Marianne freaks out, and Elinor reassures her that he'll visit again the next day. However, the next morning, Marianne stays home, but nobody comes to visit. A note arrives, and Marianne rudely snatches it up. Unfortunately, it's not from Willoughby. The letter, which is actually for Mrs. Jennings, informs them that the Middletons have finally arrived. Lady Middleton invites them to dinner the next evening, as various things prevent them from visiting the Jennings abode themselves. Elinor persuades Marianne to go along, even though she'd rather stay home and wait for Willoughby to call. Sir John seems to be the same in town and in the country - as usual, he's invited a ton of people over for a raging party, including the Palmers, and a bunch of other folks. Mr. Palmer says a cursory and awkward hello. In general, the evening seems pretty disappointing, especially because Willoughby isn't there. When they arrive home, Mrs. Jennings lets slip the fact that Willoughby was invited to the party - but just didn't show. Marianne is shocked and hurt. She immediately writes another letter to him in the morning. Elinor writes to her mother, seeking help on the Willoughby front. Colonel Brandon shows up as soon as Elinor finishes her letter, and Marianne flees the room before he enters. Colonel Brandon is actually relieved to just find Elinor - apparently, he has something to tell her in private. He brings up the topic of Willoughby, commenting that it's a well-known fact that he and Marianne are engaged. Elinor assures him that it's not that well-known - after all, even she and her mother don't know it for sure. The colonel says that he's heard it from many people, including Mrs. Jennings, the Palmers, and the Middletons. He has come to see if the engagement is absolutely, 100% for sure or not. Elinor answers that she's not surprised by the rumors, though Marianne hasn't told her anything. Colonel Brandon simply wishes the couple the greatest happiness, and leaves without another word. Elinor is saddened by this conversation, but torn between her pity for Colonel Brandon, and her desire to see the whole Willoughby/Marianne issue resolved.