CHAPTER VII

arianne got up the next morning at her usual time; to

every inquiry replied that she was better, and tried to

prove herself so, by engaging in her accustomary

employments. But a day spent in sitting shivering over the fire

with a book in her hand, which she was unable to read, or in lying,

weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak much in favour of her

amendment; and when, at last, she went early to bed, more and

more indisposed, Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her

sister's composure, who, though attending and nursing her the

whole day, against Marianne's inclination, and forcing proper

medicines on her at night, trusted, like Marianne, to the certainty

and efficacy of sleep, and felt no real alarm.

A very restless and feverish night, however, disappointed the

expectation of both; and when Marianne, after persisting in rising,

confessed herself unable to sit up, and returned voluntarily to her

bed, Elinor was very ready to adopt Mrs. Jennings's advice, of

sending for the Palmers' apothecary.

He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging Miss

Dashwood to expect that a very few days would restore her sister

to health, yet, by pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid

tendency, and allowing the word "infection" to pass his lips, gave

instant alarm to Mrs. Palmer, on her baby's account. Mrs.

Jennings, who had been inclined from the first to think

Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor, now looked very

grave on Mr. Harris's report, and confirming Charlotte's fears and

caution, urged the necessity of her immediate removal with her

infant; and Mr. Palmer, though treating their apprehensions as

idle, found the anxiety and importunity of his wife too great to be

withstood. Her departure, therefore, was fixed on; and within an

hour after Mr. Harris's arrival, she set off, with her little boy and

his nurse, for the house of a near relation of Mr. Palmer's, who

lived a few miles on the other side of Bath; whither her husband

promised, at her earnest entreaty, to join her in a day or two; and

whither she was almost equally urgent with her mother to

accompany her. Mrs. Jennings, however, with a kindness of heart

which made Elinor really love her, declared her resolution of not

stirring from Cleveland as long as Marianne remained ill, and of

endeavouring, by her own attentive care, to supply to her the place

of the mother she had taken her from; and Elinor found her on

every occasion a most willing and active helpmate, desirous to

share in all her fatigues, and often by her better experience in

nursing, of material use.

Poor Marianne, languid and low from the nature of her malady,

and feeling herself universally ill, could no longer hope that

tomorrow would find her recovered; and the idea of what

tomorrow would have produced, but for this unlucky illness, made

every ailment severe; for on that day they were to have begun

their journey home; and, attended the whole way by a servant of

Mrs. Jennings, were to have taken their mother by surprise on the

following forenoon. The little she said was all in lamentation of

this inevitable delay; though Elinor tried to raise her spirits, and

make her believe, as she then really believed herself, that it would

be a very short one.

The next day produced little or no alteration in the state of the

patient; she certainly was not better, and, except that there was no

amendment, did not appear worse. Their party was now farther

reduced; for Mr. Palmer, though very unwilling to go as well from

real humanity and good-nature, as from a dislike of appearing to

be frightened away by his wife, was persuaded at last by Colonel

Brandon to perform his promise of following her; and while he

was preparing to go, Colonel Brandon himself, with a much

greater exertion, began to talk of going likewise.―Here, however,

the kindness of Mrs. Jennings interposed most acceptably; for to

send the Colonel away while his love was in so much uneasiness

on her sister's account, would be to deprive them both, she

thought, of every comfort; and therefore telling him at once that

his stay at Cleveland was necessary to herself, that she should

want him to play at piquet of an evening, while Miss Dashwood

was above with her sister, &c. she urged him so strongly to

remain, that he, who was gratifying the first wish of his own heart

by a compliance, could not long even affect to demur; especially as

Mrs. Jennings's entreaty was warmly seconded by Mr. Palmer,

who seemed to feel a relief to himself, in leaving behind him a

person so well able to assist or advise Miss Dashwood in any

emergence.

Marianne was, of course, kept in ignorance of all these

arrangements. She knew not that she had been the means of

sending the owners of Cleveland away, in about seven days from

the time of their arrival. It gave her no surprise that she saw

nothing of Mrs. Palmer; and as it gave her likewise no concern,

she never mentioned her name.

Two days passed away from the time of Mr. Palmer's departure,

and her situation continued, with little variation, the same. Mr.

Harris, who attended her every day, still talked boldly of a speedy

recovery, and Miss Dashwood was equally sanguine; but the

expectation of the others was by no means so cheerful. Mrs.

Jennings had determined very early in the seizure that Marianne

would never get over it, and Colonel Brandon, who was chiefly of

use in listening to Mrs. Jennings's forebodings, was not in a state

of mind to resist their influence. He tried to reason himself out of

fears, which the different judgment of the apothecary seemed to

render absurd; but the many hours of each day in which he was

left entirely alone, were but too favourable for the admission of

every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from his mind the

persuasion that he should see Marianne no more.

On the morning of the third day however, the gloomy

anticipations of both were almost done away; for when Mr. Harris

arrived, he declared his patient materially better. Her pulse was

much stronger, and every symptom more favourable than on the

preceding visit. Elinor, confirmed in every pleasant hope, was all

cheerfulness; rejoicing that in her letters to her mother, she had

pursued her own judgment rather than her friend's, in making

very light of the indisposition which delayed them at Cleveland;

and almost fixing on the time when Marianne would be able to

travel.

But the day did not close so auspiciously as it began.―Towards

the evening Marianne became ill again, growing more heavy,

restless, and uncomfortable than before. Her sister, however, still

sanguine, was willing to attribute the change to nothing more than

the fatigue of having sat up to have her bed made; and carefully

administering the cordials prescribed, saw her, with satisfaction,

sink at last into a slumber, from which she expected the most

beneficial effects. Her sleep, though not so quiet as Elinor wished

to see it, lasted a considerable time; and anxious to observe the

result of it herself, she resolved to sit with her during the whole of

it. Mrs. Jennings, knowing nothing of any change in the patient,

went unusually early to bed; her maid, who was one of the

principal nurses, was recreating herself in the housekeeper's

room, and Elinor remained alone with Marianne.

The repose of the latter became more and more disturbed; and

her sister, who watched, with unremitting attention her continual

change of posture, and heard the frequent but inarticulate sounds

of complaint which passed her lips, was almost wishing to rouse

her from so painful a slumber, when Marianne, suddenly

awakened by some accidental noise in the house, started hastily

up, and, with feverish wildness, cried out,―

"Is mama coming?―"

"Not yet," cried the other, concealing her terror, and assisting

Marianne to lie down again, "but she will be here, I hope, before it

is long. It is a great way, you know, from hence to Barton."

"But she must not go round by London," cried Marianne, in the

same hurried manner. "I shall never see her, if she goes by

London."

Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not quite herself, and,

while attempting to soothe her, eagerly felt her pulse. It was lower

and quicker than ever! and Marianne, still talking wildly of mama,

her alarm increased so rapidly, as to determine her on sending

instantly for Mr. Harris, and despatching a messenger to Barton

for her mother. To consult with Colonel Brandon on the best

means of effecting the latter, was a thought which immediately

followed the resolution of its performance; and as soon as she had

rung up the maid to take her place by her sister, she hastened

down to the drawing-room, where she knew he was generally to be

found at a much later hour than the present.

It was no time for hesitation. Her fears and her difficulties were

immediately before him. Her fears, he had no courage, no

confidence to attempt the removal of;―he listened to them in

silent despondence;―but her difficulties were instantly obviated,

for with a readiness that seemed to speak the occasion, and the

service pre-arranged in his mind, he offered himself as the

messenger who should fetch Mrs. Dashwood. Elinor made no

resistance that was not easily overcome. She thanked him with

brief, though fervent gratitude, and while he went to hurry off his

servant with a message to Mr. Harris, and an order for post-horses

directly, she wrote a few lines to her mother.

The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel

Brandon―or such a companion for her mother,―how gratefully

was it felt!―a companion whose judgment would guide, whose

attendance must relieve, and whose friendship might soothe

her!―as far as the shock of such a summons could be lessened to

her, his presence, his manners, his assistance, would lessen it.

He, meanwhile, whatever he might feel, acted with all the

firmness of a collected mind, made every necessary arrangement

with the utmost despatch, and calculated with exactness the time

in which she might look for his return. Not a moment was lost in

delay of any kind. The horses arrived, even before they were

expected, and Colonel Brandon only pressing her hand with a look

of solemnity, and a few words spoken too low to reach her ear,

hurried into the carriage. It was then about twelve o'clock, and she

returned to her sister's apartment to wait for the arrival of the

apothecary, and to watch by her the rest of the night. It was a

night of almost equal suffering to both. Hour after hour passed

away in sleepless pain and delirium on Marianne's side, and in the

most cruel anxiety on Elinor's, before Mr. Harris appeared. Her

apprehensions once raised, paid by their excess for all her former

security; and the servant who sat up with her, for she would not

allow Mrs. Jennings to be called, only tortured her more, by hints