Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

HANOVER SQUARE, LONDON

M rs Palmer, for all her good-natured cheer, had not been given to exaggeration, and when she was wont to tease Sir John that he ‘drove his horses so hard as was likely to overturn any unfortunate carriage so unlucky as to be coming the other way', although she laughed very heartily at it, she was not boasting. Their journey had been undertaken at an excessively smart pace. Sir John had been very attentive both to his lady and to his guest, and they had stopped both days at two very good inns and taken refreshments, but to Marianne it had been a trial in both its duration and its manner of going on. Indeed, observing from the carriage window more than once, a coach or phaeton coming the other way on the sometimes excessively narrow road, Marianne had been obliged to close her eyes and prepare herself for the worst, although Sir John seemed oblivious of any ill-considered practice of his coachmen. Crammed in with a child on either side of her, Marianne had several times wished she had had the foresight to decline Mrs Palmer's invitation, but it was done, and she was to endure only a few more hours of the rolling motion and over-warm stifle of the carriage.

Lady Middleton, while always having been quite civil to Marianne, had nothing much to relieve the tedium of the journey by way of conversation. This lady thought of nothing but her children, and therefore her conversation, on the odd occasions when she broke her own long silences, boasted invariably of their excessive cleverness in the school room, their great handsomeness, and their good prospects for the future —such fodder for conversation as Marianne could only smile at politely. For the world she could not enter into such a commentary about her own children, as much as she loved them dearly, for fear not only of burdening others with a conversation as would oblige agreement, but of enlarging their own young opinions of themselves as was beyond anything helpful or good. Praise was one thing, but boasting another, and she hoped her children would never hear themselves boasted of over silly tokens as merely being born handsome, or for such trifles as knowing, at age eight, how to add together two paltry sums!

Sir John, however, was as jolly traveller as his lady was a cold and indifferent one, perhaps from his being not cooped inside the carriage with his wife and two of their older children. He had several times rode the horse which had been drawn along behind the carriage by his groom, and twice he had exchanged places with the coachman and driven them all himself, and so had enjoyed more liberty than the occupants of his carriage. Lady Middleton, upon his application to her that ‘he had done quite well, had he not, in getting them all to town by noon,' had declined to reply, but perhaps used to his ways, thought Marianne, she had been silent for the sake of marital harmony.

But they suffered no upsets, nor did they lose a wheel, and, as the hours progressed, Marianne could only sigh in silent relief as the road beneath them became cobbled with stones and the traffic increased to such as obliged the carriage to slow. The excessive swaying and jolting of their carriage, however, had given Marianne the headache, and by the time she stepped from the carriage in Hanover-square, well after one o'clock in the afternoon, she felt not at all fit for company.

They were received at the front door by two servants, and at the drawing room door with a great deal of merriment and noise, and a replying ‘Well, well, well, here we all are then!' from a jovial Sir John.

To greet them were what seemed to Marianne a very daunting number of youngsters, all of them Palmers of varying ages, all vying for attention. When they added their own number to the party, it was a great crowd indeed. Mrs Jennings, Lady Middleton's fat, rather vulgar-tongued mother, Mr Palmer who, having grown very broad and lusty and took up a great deal more space than Marianne was used to remembering him, and Mrs Palmer who was no sylph herself, all seemed to fill the room until Marianne wondered if there would be any corner spare to sit. But the children were soon all sent away to the school-room for their dinners, and with their removal the adults were all seated before the fire and were as merry as souls tried with a long journey could be. Tea was ordered up and soon cakes and sandwiches were being consumed as if they had not finished a large breakfast only three hours beforehand!

Mrs Jennings, having been three weeks absent from Barton Park, made much of Marianne who had always been a favourite of hers, and asked several times after Colonel Brandon, the dear children, Mr and Mrs Ferrars, and dear Mrs Dashwood, but her respondent could barely summon the energy to make replies to such enquiries.

As soon as the others were occupied in conversations however, Mrs Jennings leaned forward and speaking in a loud undertone meant to be unheard by anyone else, again attacked Marianne. ‘I hear you were lately out of spirits, my dear. How do you do now?' And without waiting for a reply, ‘Tis a great idea of Charlotte's to invite you, and I think if anything might cure you it will be a good long visit to town! I see you are looking not quite so piqued as I had thought to find you, and so the cure effects already, does it not? You must think of nothing but to enjoy yourself! When does the Colonel join you? I vouch he shall not be long at Delaford himself now that you are come away! You sly thing! It is a very good scheme indeed, to entice your husband to town by coming here yourself! I answer for it that he will come to town within the week!'

Mrs Palmer, however, saved a vexed Marianne the trouble of a reply to this saucy remark, for she turned from talking to her sister and Sir John, and said cheerfully, ‘Did I hear you speaking of Colonel Brandon, Mama? I am not surprised that he did not wait to travel with you, Mrs Brandon, for I am sure you must have had a dreadful, jolting ride with Sir John! Your husband must have been eager to join you, however, for he was arrived yesterday, by his own mouth, for we happened to bump into him as he was coming along Bond-street this very morning!'

Marianne could not hide her astonishment. ‘I beg your pardon, but you must have been mistaken, for my husband is presently at Whitwell, near Delaford, the seat of his brother-in-law.'

‘I assure you he is no such thing, for Mr Palmer and I met him in Bond-street today. He was excessively civil to Mr Palmer and me and I laughed very much after we had said good-bye, for I said to Mr Palmer—did I not my love?—that surely he intended to surprise Mrs Brandon! Oh dear!' she cried, clapping a hand to her mouth and laughing quite immoderately, ‘How silly of me, I have forgotten that I assured him of my secrecy! Oh well, the cat is out of the bag, now, I suppose!' She laughed in delight to see Marianne's astonishment, which was no less than that of Mrs Jennings, who cackled in glee to hear her daughter's news .

‘I knew it would not be long before we would see the Colonel here,' cried she. ‘Did I not just say it was so, Mrs Brandon? And if that is not proof of the Colonel's abiding attachment to you, I cannot say what is! So eager to join you as to be quite beforehand in arriving! I vouch for it that we may even see him at the Hanover-square this very night! What say you, Charlotte?'

Marianne, however, was nonplussed and disbelieving. Brandon? Already in town ahead of her? He must have left Whitwell Tuesday, when he received her letter. Had her letter promoted this speedy removal from Whitwell, to see her? It must have! She rejoiced in the thought that he had been so eager to see her that he had come directly to town, but the thought quickly struck her that his arrival, should his intention have been to surprise her, may have been intended to be a secret. She was glad, however, that she had been given foreknowledge, for the thought of his coming to see her buoyed her spirits. He did love her after all! He surely would be with her very soon, perhaps this very hour!

‘I daresay,' Mrs Jennings went on complacently, ‘that he plans to surprise you with a visit here. Well, my dear, I am certain you will see him here today before dinner is over!'

While Marianne privately hoped for the very same thing, she could not yet be entirely sure of him, of his intentions in coming to town, although she could not place any other reason on his coming away so quickly except that he had been urged by her letter to come to her immediately.

The thought gave a renewed hope, and yet she was puzzled at his not sending a note to Hanover-square that he was in town and would call. Therefore, she would give the company no expectations, for if he did not come straight away, she was sure to suffer too much from the kindness of her friends in their constant conversation on the topic. It was so already, and now she was bombarded with questions as to when the Colonel might be expected, and if he had businesses which brought him to town. She was obliged to put an end to such a conjecture by saying, ‘I do not know, I am sure, if my husband intends to visit me today, for he always has pressing business in town. He is so busy with Delaford and Whitwell to care for, these days!'

‘He did say that he had an appointment,' said Mrs Palmer. ‘Perhaps he will call after that!'

‘Of course the dear Colonel is always busy,' interjected Mrs Jennings cheerfully, ‘but a man always has time for his wife! I am sure you will see him here this very hour, Mrs Brandon!'

Marianne did her best to be cheerful, and yet she was alternately oppressed by hope one moment, and puzzlement and doubt the next. What could her husband mean by coming here and not making it known to her? Would she see him today? Tomorrow? She could not bear it if he did not come and yet, he must come, for there was no other reason to explain his presence in town. Having been obliged to smile politely while suppressing her agitation Marianne soon found she was to have no peace, as she was attacked again on a new topic, immediately tea had been removed.

‘But how thin and pale you are, Mrs Brandon!' cried Mrs Palmer enthusiastically. ‘You are not yet recovered, I see, from your being indisposed. We will have to feed you up. Mama, will not we have to feed her up? Poor thing! does she not look quite thin and pale? Really, Sir John, you ought to have driven your horses more slowly, you naughty man, for poor Mrs Brandon has not your vigorous energy, and you see how fatigued she is made by the journey! Mr Palmer! Do not you think Mrs Brandon looks quite done in?'

Mr Palmer, who had given Marianne what were the merest common civilities on her entry and then promptly returned to his papers, had nothing more to remark now, even though his lady laughed most cheerfully and cried, ‘You see how Mr Palmer never hears anything I say—it is quite droll in him, I declare!'

Sir John, however, was all eager commiseration.‘Indeed, you do look quite done in, dear Mrs Brandon! I am afraid I must take the blame, for I do like to take the reins and enjoy myself and I forget there are ladies on board! Perhaps we did drag out the journey a little, but it is so difficult to go on promptly when there are children aboard! Is that not so, Lady Middleton? Even though we have a nurse, they slow things down, but I daresay you know all about that with children of your own! But I shall not scruple to say that the fault is all mine! Indeed, it is,' said he as Marianne began to object politely, ‘and I daresay I ought to have known better! But my dear, never mind us here—I am sure Mrs Palmer and Lady Middleton won't care a jot if you go straight up to your room and lie down. You must not worry that you will miss anything at all, for we shall all go up soon to dress, I daresay. If the Colonel calls, we shall send for you at once! But we shall not, I undertake for it, be at all merry until you can return to us rested at dinner.'

Marianne coloured. ‘Not at all, Sir John, you are very kind?—'

‘Now, now, Mrs Brandon, you must be in your best looks when the Colonel arrives!' cried Mrs Jennings with the air of having produced a very good joke. ‘I know how these things are with newly married ladies! I remember a time myself when I scarcely would admit being seen in my curling-papers if my late husband, bless his soul, was coming anywhere near me at night-time!'

Lady Middleton looked away, frowning at the vulgarity of her mother, but Charlotte Palmer laughed delightedly. ‘I wonder he did not require you to cover your entire face with a sack, Mama! How children were produced I wonder at excessively!'

Both women shrieked delightedly at their own jokes, and Marianne could find nothing to add to such vulgar talk but lamented that she would have a month's worth of such conversation.

Sir John, however, was most solicitous as to Marianne's going upstairs to lie down. ‘You must rest after that long journey, my dear Mrs Brandon. I insist you get your beauty sleep as you ladies call it, although Brandon, I am sure, would not care if he was to find you in a sack and powdered wig! Now there's an amusing picture, I dare say!' he laughed at his own joke. ‘No, you shall not miss anything by leaving us, for I assure you we shall have no conversation of note, and there will be nothing to miss in our company until you have a good rest, and then at dinner we shall go about the business of being as merry as we can! What a pleasant addition the Colonel will make to our little party this evening! Well! Upon my soul, you do look done in!'

Marianne, thinking that she might very well be allowed to retreat if Mrs Palmer and Sir John urged it so much for her, finally relented with less obvious relief than she felt. ‘You are all very kind. I shall go upstairs, if you will be so kind as to forgive me for so soon quitting you all.'

To retire to her room for a few hours to think on the visit that would in a few hours would surely take place, was all Marianne had hoped for since hearing the news of her husband's arrival in town, and now that it could be managed without giving offence, she stood and took her leave of them gratefully. She was shown to a cheerful chamber, but it was an hour before she was able to sleep, for every few minutes she imagined she heard the door-bell, or footsteps in the hall below, and imagined it to be her husband. When after an hour he did not come, and no messenger came with a note, she finally gave in to the ache in her head and drifted into a light sleep until the maid came to help her dress for dinner.

Dinner came and went, and yet Colonel Brandon did not make an appearance, nor was any note for her delivered. By the time the clock had struck ten, Marianne was weary with anxiety. Had she misread his being in town? Perhaps he had left Whitwell before her note had been delivered? But she was sure he knew of her being here, for the Palmers had mentioned it when they had met him in the street. She remained quiet all evening and at eleven o clock Mrs Palmer and Mrs Jennings urged her to go up to bed.

‘I am sure the Colonel will come tomorrow, Mrs Brandon, never you worry,' Mrs Jennings said kindly, reading her thoughts. ‘The man quite dotes on you! He will not long keep away!'

If only that was true, thought Marianne sadly, but she could assume nothing of the sort these days.

Mrs Palmer was all cheerful kindness as she left the room. ‘The fire is made, the room is ready—and I will instruct Mary to come to you in the morning with hot water, but only when you ring the bell and not before, so as not to disturb you.'

Marianne followed the servant upstairs, and within the hour was took to her bed, but many thoughts kept her from her rest for some time. Would Brandon come to her tomorrow, as Mrs Jennings had anticipated? Would a visit finally restore the peace that had been lost between them? And what was it that had caused him to withdraw from her in the first place?

It was an hour before her eyes closed on the pillow, and finally she slept very deeply, until she was woken the next morning by Mary and the hot water which was not to have come until she rang for it.