Sense and Sensibility

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mrs. John Dashwood now installed herself mistress of Norland;

and her mother and sisters-in-law were degraded to the condition of

visitors. As such, however, they were treated by her with quiet

civility; and by her husband with as much kindness as he could feel

towards anybody beyond himself, his wife, and their child. She

really pressed them, with some earnestness, to consider Norland as

their home; and, as no plan appeared so eligible to Mrs. Dashwood

as remaining there till she could accommodate herself with a house

in the neighbourhood, his invitation was accepted.

A continuance in a place where everything reminded her of former

delight, was exactly what suited her mind. In seasons of

cheerfulness, no temper could be more cheerful than hers, or

possess, in a greater degree, that sanguine expectation of

happiness which is happiness itself. But in sorrow she must be

equally carried away by her fancy, and as far beyond consolation as

in pleasure she was beyond alloy.

Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her husband

intended to do for his sisters. To take three thousand pounds from

the fortune of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him to

the most dreadful degree. She begged him to think again on the

subject. How could he answer it to himself to rob his child, and

his only child too, of so large a sum? And what possible claim

could the Miss Dashwoods, who were related to him only by half

blood, which she considered as no relationship at all, have on his

generosity to so large an amount. It was very well known that no

affection was ever supposed to exist between the children of any

man by different marriages; and why was he to ruin himself, and

their poor little Harry, by giving away all his money to his half

sisters?

"It was my father's last request to me," replied her husband,

"that I should assist his widow and daughters."

"He did not know what he was talking of, I dare say; ten to one

but he was light-headed at the time. Had he been in his right

senses, he could not have thought of such a thing as begging you to

give away half your fortune from your own child."

"He did not stipulate for any particular sum, my dear Fanny; he

only requested me, in general terms, to assist them, and make their

situation more comfortable than it was in his power to do. Perhaps

it would have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself. He

could hardly suppose I should neglect them. But as he required the

promise, I could not do less than give it; at least I thought so at

the time. The promise, therefore, was given, and must be performed.

Something must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and

settle in a new home."

"Well, then, LET something be done for them; but THAT something

need not be three thousand pounds. Consider," she added, "that when

the money is once parted with, it never can return. Your sisters

will marry, and it will be gone for ever. If, indeed, it could be

restored to our poor little boy—"

"Why, to be sure," said her husband, very gravely, "that would

make great difference. The time may come when Harry will regret

that so large a sum was parted with. If he should have a numerous

family, for instance, it would be a very convenient addition."

"To be sure it would."

"Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, if the sum

were diminished one half.—Five hundred pounds would be a prodigious

increase to their fortunes!"

"Oh! beyond anything great! What brother on earth would do half

so much for his sisters, even if REALLY his sisters! And as it

is—only half blood!—But you have such a generous spirit!"

"I would not wish to do any thing mean," he replied. "One had

rather, on such occasions, do too much than too little. No one, at

least, can think I have not done enough for them: even themselves,

they can hardly expect more."

"There is no knowing what THEY may expect," said the lady, "but

we are not to think of their expectations: the question is, what

you can afford to do."

"Certainly—and I think I may afford to give them five hundred

pounds a-piece. As it is, without any addition of mine, they will

each have about three thousand pounds on their mother's death—a

very comfortable fortune for any young woman."

"To be sure it is; and, indeed, it strikes me that they can want

no addition at all. They will have ten thousand pounds divided

amongst them. If they marry, they will be sure of doing well, and

if they do not, they may all live very comfortably together on the

interest of ten thousand pounds."

"That is very true, and, therefore, I do not know whether, upon

the whole, it would not be more advisable to do something for their

mother while she lives, rather than for them—something of the

annuity kind I mean.—My sisters would feel the good effects of it

as well as herself. A hundred a year would make them all perfectly

comfortable."

His wife hesitated a little, however, in giving her consent to

this plan.

"To be sure," said she, "it is better than parting with fifteen

hundred pounds at once. But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood should live

fifteen years we shall be completely taken in."

"Fifteen years! my dear Fanny; her life cannot be worth half

that purchase."

"Certainly not; but if you observe, people always live for ever

when there is an annuity to be paid them; and she is very stout and

healthy, and hardly forty. An annuity is a very serious business;

it comes over and over every year, and there is no getting rid of

it. You are not aware of what you are doing. I have known a great

deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with

the p*****t of three to old superannuated servants by my father's

will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every

year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the

trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to

have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My

mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said,

with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my

father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at

my mother's disposal, without any restriction whatever. It has

given me such an abhorrence of annuities, that I am sure I would

not pin myself down to the p*****t of one for all the world."

"It is certainly an unpleasant thing," replied Mr. Dashwood, "to

have those kind of yearly drains on one's income. One's fortune, as

your mother justly says, is NOT one's own. To be tied down to the

regular p*****t of such a sum, on every rent day, is by no means

desirable: it takes away one's independence."

"Undoubtedly; and after all you have no thanks for it. They

think themselves secure, you do no more than what is expected, and

it raises no gratitude at all. If I were you, whatever I did should

be done at my own discretion entirely. I would not bind myself to

allow them any thing yearly. It may be very inconvenient some years

to spare a hundred, or even fifty pounds from our own

expenses."

"I believe you are right, my love; it will be better that there

should by no annuity in the case; whatever I may give them

occasionally will be of far greater assistance than a yearly

allowance, because they would only enlarge their style of living if

they felt sure of a larger income, and would not be sixpence the

richer for it at the end of the year. It will certainly be much the

best way. A present of fifty pounds, now and then, will prevent

their ever being distressed for money, and will, I think, be amply

discharging my promise to my father."

"To be sure it will. Indeed, to say the truth, I am convinced

within myself that your father had no idea of your giving them any

money at all. The assistance he thought of, I dare say, was only

such as might be reasonably expected of you; for instance, such as

looking out for a comfortable small house for them, helping them to

move their things, and sending them presents of fish and game, and

so forth, whenever they are in season. I'll lay my life that he

meant nothing farther; indeed, it would be very strange and

unreasonable if he did. Do but consider, my dear Mr. Dashwood, how

excessively comfortable your mother-in-law and her daughters may

live on the interest of seven thousand pounds, besides the thousand

pounds belonging to each of the girls, which brings them in fifty

pounds a year a-piece, and, of course, they will pay their mother

for their board out of it. Altogether, they will have five hundred

a-year amongst them, and what on earth can four women want for more

than that?—They will live so cheap! Their housekeeping will be

nothing at all. They will have no carriage, no horses, and hardly

any servants; they will keep no company, and can have no expenses

of any kind! Only conceive how comfortable they will be! Five

hundred a year! I am sure I cannot imagine how they will spend half

of it; and as to your giving them more, it is quite absurd to think

of it. They will be much more able to give YOU something."

"Upon my word," said Mr. Dashwood, "I believe you are perfectly

right. My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request

to me than what you say. I clearly understand it now, and I will

strictly fulfil my engagement by such acts of assistance and

kindness to them as you have described. When my mother removes into

another house my services shall be readily given to accommodate her

as far as I can. Some little present of furniture too may be

acceptable then."

"Certainly," returned Mrs. John Dashwood. "But, however, ONE

thing must be considered. When your father and mother moved to

Norland, though the furniture of Stanhill was sold, all the china,

plate, and linen was saved, and is now left to your mother. Her

house will therefore be almost completely fitted up as soon as she

takes it."

"That is a material consideration undoubtedly. A valuable legacy

indeed! And yet some of the plate would have been a very pleasant

addition to our own stock here."

"Yes; and the set of breakfast china is twice as handsome as

what belongs to this house. A great deal too handsome, in my

opinion, for any place THEY can ever afford to live in. But,

however, so it is. Your father thought only of THEM. And I must say

this: that you owe no particular gratitude to him, nor attention to

his wishes; for we very well know that if he could, he would have

left almost everything in the world to THEM."

This argument was irresistible. It gave to his intentions

whatever of decision was wanting before; and he finally resolved,

that it would be absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous,

to do more for the widow and children of his father, than such kind

of neighbourly acts as his own wife pointed out.