Sense and Sensibility

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. The ladies

had passed near it in their way along the valley, but it was

screened from their view at home by the projection of a hill. The

house was large and handsome; and the Middletons lived in a style

of equal hospitality and elegance. The former was for Sir John's

gratification, the latter for that of his lady. They were scarcely

ever without some friends staying with them in the house, and they

kept more company of every kind than any other family in the

neighbourhood. It was necessary to the happiness of both; for

however dissimilar in temper and outward behaviour, they strongly

resembled each other in that total want of talent and taste which

confined their employments, unconnected with such as society

produced, within a very narrow compass. Sir John was a sportsman,

Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she humoured her

children; and these were their only resources. Lady Middleton had

the advantage of being able to spoil her children all the year

round, while Sir John's independent employments were in existence

only half the time. Continual engagements at home and abroad,

however, supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education;

supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise to the

good breeding of his wife.

Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance of her table,

and of all her domestic arrangements; and from this kind of vanity

was her greatest enjoyment in any of their parties. But Sir John's

satisfaction in society was much more real; he delighted in

collecting about him more young people than his house would hold,

and the noisier they were the better was he pleased. He was a

blessing to all the juvenile part of the neighbourhood, for in

summer he was for ever forming parties to eat cold ham and chicken

out of doors, and in winter his private balls were numerous enough

for any young lady who was not suffering under the unsatiable

appetite of fifteen.

The arrival of a new family in the country was always a matter

of joy to him, and in every point of view he was charmed with the

inhabitants he had now procured for his cottage at Barton. The Miss

Dashwoods were young, pretty, and unaffected. It was enough to

secure his good opinion; for to be unaffected was all that a pretty

girl could want to make her mind as captivating as her person. The

friendliness of his disposition made him happy in accommodating

those, whose situation might be considered, in comparison with the

past, as unfortunate. In showing kindness to his cousins therefore

he had the real satisfaction of a good heart; and in settling a

family of females only in his cottage, he had all the satisfaction

of a sportsman; for a sportsman, though he esteems only those of

his s*x who are sportsmen likewise, is not often desirous of

encouraging their taste by admitting them to a residence within his

own manor.

Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door of the

house by Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton Park with unaffected

sincerity; and as he attended them to the drawing room repeated to

the young ladies the concern which the same subject had drawn from

him the day before, at being unable to get any smart young men to

meet them. They would see, he said, only one gentleman there

besides himself; a particular friend who was staying at the park,

but who was neither very young nor very gay. He hoped they would

all excuse the smallness of the party, and could assure them it

should never happen so again. He had been to several families that

morning in hopes of procuring some addition to their number, but it

was moonlight and every body was full of engagements. Luckily Lady

Middleton's mother had arrived at Barton within the last hour, and

as she was a very cheerful agreeable woman, he hoped the young

ladies would not find it so very dull as they might imagine. The

young ladies, as well as their mother, were perfectly satisfied

with having two entire strangers of the party, and wished for no

more.

Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's mother, was a good-humoured,

merry, fat, elderly woman, who talked a great deal, seemed very

happy, and rather vulgar. She was full of jokes and laughter, and

before dinner was over had said many witty things on the subject of

lovers and husbands; hoped they had not left their hearts behind

them in Sussex, and pretended to see them blush whether they did or

not. Marianne was vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned her

eyes towards Elinor to see how she bore these attacks, with an

earnestness which gave Elinor far more pain than could arise from

such common-place raillery as Mrs. Jennings's.

Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no more adapted

by resemblance of manner to be his friend, than Lady Middleton was

to be his wife, or Mrs. Jennings to be Lady Middleton's mother. He

was silent and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing, in

spite of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an

absolute old bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and

thirty; but though his face was not handsome, his countenance was

sensible, and his address was particularly gentlemanlike.

There was nothing in any of the party which could recommend them

as companions to the Dashwoods; but the cold insipidity of Lady

Middleton was so particularly repulsive, that in comparison of it

the gravity of Colonel Brandon, and even the boisterous mirth of

Sir John and his mother-in-law was interesting. Lady Middleton

seemed to be roused to enjoyment only by the entrance of her four

noisy children after dinner, who pulled her about, tore her

clothes, and put an end to every kind of discourse except what

related to themselves.

In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, she

was invited to play. The instrument was unlocked, every body

prepared to be charmed, and Marianne, who sang very well, at their

request went through the chief of the songs which Lady Middleton

had brought into the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had

lain ever since in the same position on the pianoforte, for her

ladyship had celebrated that event by giving up music, although by

her mother's account, she had played extremely well, and by her own

was very fond of it.

Marianne's performance was highly applauded. Sir John was loud

in his admiration at the end of every song, and as loud in his

conversation with the others while every song lasted. Lady

Middleton frequently called him to order, wondered how any one's

attention could be diverted from music for a moment, and asked

Marianne to sing a particular song which Marianne had just

finished. Colonel Brandon alone, of all the party, heard her

without being in raptures. He paid her only the compliment of

attention; and she felt a respect for him on the occasion, which

the others had reasonably forfeited by their shameless want of

taste. His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that

ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, was

estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of the

others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five

and thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and

every exquisite power of enjoyment. She was perfectly disposed to

make every allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life which

humanity required.