Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

DELAFORD

‘ L isten to her cough, Mama, I do not like it at all. It has the sound of your own cough last year.'

Elinor was sitting with her mother in the breakfast room, having eaten early in order to take it in turns to sit as much as possible with Marianne. Elinor had spent much of the last week sitting in Maranne's room, quietly reading to her, or bathing her flushed temples, when not at home with the children and Edward. Marianne's chill had suddenly turned for the worse, and now a hacking cough assailed her, accompanied by a more persevering fever. It had quite overtaken her, and she had not been able to leave her bed for three days.

Elinor was very near her confinement now, and her over-round figure was a hinderance when she walked and sat, no position being very comfortable. But she could not leave Marianne, and after hearing of how seriously they considered Marianne's illness, Edward had been adamant that she should stay with her sister, provided she did not tire herself out.

The sound of a deep, wrenching cough came again from a room somewhere above them. It cut through the morning sound of servants chattering and children distantly laughing. Mrs Dashwood heard it with anxiety on her countenance. ‘I fear you are right, Elinor dear. I suspect Marianne has developed a pneumonia on her lung. It has the exact sound of it!'

‘I think I shall send for the surgeon again, Mama. Do not you agree? She must not be allowed to deteriorate further! She has not the strength at present to fight such an illness, with her spirits being so low.'

‘Send instead for Doctor Broughton, Elinor dear. He is expensive, but I have enough to pay. Nothing should be spared for our Marianne—the Colonel would wish it!'

Elinor was grave at the mention of Colonel Brandon, from whom they had heard nothing. His continued absence was now almost as great a concern as Marianne's illness. ‘I will send Mary with a message as soon as she comes to clear the tea things.'

‘At least poor Meg will be home with us very soon,' sighed Mrs Dashwood. ‘Poor child—it seems the world has nothing but trials for us all, presently. She ought to be coming home triumphant, on the arm of her husband. And here she must be, where she started out from with so many hopes, so many dreams!—but worse off, for now she is degraded to the position of a woman disappointed—it breaks my heart!'

Margaret had written to her mama immediately upon the dissolution of her engagement to Mr Ambrose, to relate all that had occurred, and to assure them of her return to them at the end of the week. Elinor had been shocked and disappointed for her sister, and yet her own sensible disposition had urged her to see the best in the situation. And likewise, she had urged Mrs Dashwood to be as tranquil as possible for Meg's sake .

Now she said gently, ‘It would not do, Mama, to remind Meg of her disappointment. We must bear up as well as we can, so as to support her as we would wish to be supported in the same situation. Besides, her letter was quite rational, and I think she is not so injured as she might have been, although I am sure she would not agree to marry without affection.'

‘I was so happy for our dear girl when she received John's invitation to go to town—you know I would have every young woman of Meg's situation in life—as poor as she is and as modestly as has she has been obliged to live until now!—acquainted with the manners and amusements of London. But I never perceived of the dangers she might face! I was remiss, Elinor, in doing my motherly duty—and I must be open. Her misfortune was my own fault—I had sent her to be under the care of your brother, of whose intention to be kind, I can have no doubt. I still cannot understand how such a man was allowed to court Margaret! But there was always something wanting in Fanny's affections towards her sisters—and I ought not to have trusted in Fanny so much as I did—you were right, Elinor, in naming that she would not have indifferent motives in inviting Margaret to stay with them. No doubt she thought she would receive some benefit by having one of Edward's sisters married to a gentleman of rank. But your brother, whatever may be his faults, or the faults of his wife, I trusted to have her care as his first object!'

‘Mama,' replied Elinor reprovingly, ‘recrimination will do nothing now to alleviate Meg's disappointment. You and I both sent her away to John and Fanny with no reason to fear for her welfare, and indeed, she has not been ruined, nor has she been dealt a blow from which she will never recover. She is young and will rally. John, I think, is not as much to blame as is Fanny, for I collect that Mr Ambrose was an acquaintance more of hers than he was of John. '

‘At any rate,' replied Mrs Dashwood, somewhat mollified by her daughter's words, ‘I cannot but resent Fanny and John both just a little, for not taking better care of her. Do you know, Elinor, I have sometimes wondered to myself if she had not been urged to the union by a sense of doing what was right by you and Edward, considering the sudden change in your circumstances. I hope Fanny did not urge Meg to disregard her own inclination for the furtherance of her cause to get Edward along in the world. It had always been her object to see him well-established and the loss of his fortune must have come as a blow to her, also, as his sister. Would she have encouraged the attachment between Mr Ambrose and our dear girl, to further her own ends, seeing Ambrose as a means to furthering her own interests and Edwards, in the world?'

‘Perhaps, Mama, but does it matter now? No great harm has been done other than Meg has suffered a disappointment—but she is very young, and her heart has not been tried but once. She is no worse off than I was, before I married Edward, or Marianne even, after the unfortunate events which preceded her marriage to the Colonel—you will see that she will be quite tranquil after a time.'

‘You refer to Willoughby, I suppose, but you know yourself what losing him did to her ! But I concede that Meg's letter did not give me anxiety on that account. Perhaps the attachment was not so strong as I thought it must be. Still, that makes me wonder even more if she agreed to marry this Mr Ambrose in order to lessen the impact of Edward's loss.' Mrs Dashwood sighed heavily. ‘Well, it makes but little difference now, since he has been found out and the engagement ended. But I am glad for Marianne's sake that she is coming home—perhaps her presence here might cheer Marianne and strengthen her.'

‘I hope very much for it, Mama.'

In the distance Marianne was heard to cough again, a protracted and harsh sound on the chill morning air. The sound of it echoed through the house. ‘I will go up to her, and sit with her for a few hours,' said Mrs Dashwood, standing up. ‘Send for the doctor, by all means, but let us pray for that event which will truly heal Marianne—the return of her husband!'

Elinor watched her mother from the room and sighed deeply. It was true that the harshest trials seemed to have befallen them all in the last few months—for herself, she and Edward's losing their money was unfortunate, but they would survive as they had before his mother's death—the living brought in enough to support a family of five, if not expensively, but modestly, with careful budgeting. But both Margaret and Marianne had suffered deeply; Meg was now suddenly disappointed, and with few prospects at home, she would perhaps live out her days as nursemaid to her cousins and mama. Elinor knew that Meg had not gone to town with the express wish of finding herself a husband, but despite the protestations of her sister before she had left, Elinor suspected that the right man might easily have coaxed her to change her mind about romance and marriage!

As for Marianne, if the Colonel did not soon return, Elinor feared that Marianne's spirits might influence her bodily health and be overcome to a point of permanent ill health. It was a sobering thought and upon this she did not dwell long, but soon after Mrs Dashwood left, Elinor found Mary, and had a message sent for the doctor to come.

In due course, toward the middle of the afternoon, the Doctor came by horseback, and saw the patient with grave looks and few words. Listening to her chest and then with his ear to her back, poor Marianne was bade to cough and take deep breaths, until she was dizzy with the effort. Eventually, Elinor and Mrs Dashwood were summoned outside the bedroom door and told that Mrs Brandon must be kept as warm as possible, the fire made up as high as possible at all times, and that he would bleed her daily for three days, and leave them with a tincture and poultices of herbs to be placed on her chest and back six times a day.

After he was gone, with a promise to return the following morning, Mrs Dashwood was inconsolable. ‘You saw how he frowned, did not you, Elinor? Perhaps there is no hope and he could not bring himself to mention it? Did you not read hopelessness in his eyes? I am sure I did! His look, my dear, said so much of what he would not tell us!'

‘Mama, be tranquil, be content with knowing she is in good care! Her case is serious, but it is not hopeless, or he would have said so,' pleaded Elinor sensibly. ‘You must not let Marianne hear you—she, of all of us, must have hope! In the meanwhile, we shall both be at her disposal, and between us we will nurse her back to health!'

By early evening, however, all insignificant matters were forgotten, for two weeks before her time, Elinor and Edward unexpectedly rejoiced at the delivery of their third child, a son, and poor Mrs Dashwood was left to continually run from room to room, two servants never far behind her, caring alternately for a new grandson, and her two indisposed daughters. Elinor was very well, although still abed with her son in her arms, and Edward never far from her side. Marianne however, although a little improved, continued feverish, and Mrs Dashwood felt herself wholeheartedly stretched, violently wishing for Margaret's return as much as for Marianne's recovery.

But with the help of nanny, nurse, and two maids, as much as could be done for both of her daughters was carried out, and as the moon rose high in the dark night, it suddenly seemed to Mrs Dashwood that an unusual peace fell upon Delaford House which had not been present before. It felt to her that with the birth of Elinor and Edward's son, a new spirit had come into the house and chased away much of the gloom that had haunted them these last weeks.

Even Marianne seemed brighter on hearing her sister's news, and that night she seemed to sleep a little better than the night before. Resting in her cot in Marianne's room that night, the house finally quiet, Mrs Dashwood prayed that the new child might bring them all, finally, a total change of fortunes, and most of all, the return of Marianne's husband.