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Jane Austen： Sense and Sensibility 360
you to suppose that I have nothing to urge—that because she was
injured she was irreproachable； and because I was a libertine； she
must be a saint。 If the violence of her passions； the weakness of
her understanding—I do not mean； however； to defend myself。
Her affection for me deserved better treatment； and I often； with
great self…reproach； recall the tenderness which； for a very short
time； had the power of creating any return。 I wish—I heartily wish
it had never been。 But I have injured more than herself； and I
have injured one； whose affection for me—（may I say it？） was
scarcely less warm than hers； and whose mind—Oh！ how infinitely
superior！”—
“Your indifference； however； towards that unfortunate girl—I
must say it； unpleasant to me as the discussion of such a subject
may well be—your indifference is no apology for your cruel
neglect of her。 Do not think yourself excused by any weakness； any
natural defect of understanding on her side； in the wanton cruelty
so evident on yours。 You must have known； that while you were
enjoying yourself in Devonshire pursuing fresh schemes； always
gay； always happy； she was reduced to the extremest indigence。”
“But； upon my soul； I did not know it；” he warmly replied； “I
did not recollect that I had omitted to give her my direction； and
common sense might have told her how to find it out。”
“Well； sir； and what said Mrs。 Smith？”
“She taxed me with the offence at once； and my confusion may
be guessed。 The purity of her life； the formality of her notions； her
ignorance of the world—every thing was against me。 The matter
itself I could not deny； and vain was every endeavour to soften it。
She was previously disposed； I believe； to doubt the morality of my
conduct in general； and was moreover discontented with the very
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Jane Austen： Sense and Sensibility 361
little attention； the very little portion of my time that I had
bestowed on her； in my present visit。 In short； it ended in a total
breach。 By one measure I might have saved myself。 In the height
of her morality； good woman！ she offered to forgive the past； if I
would marry Eliza。 That could not be—and I was formally
dismissed from her favour and her house。 The night following this
affair—I was to go the next morning—was spent by me in
deliberating on what my future conduct should be。 The struggle
was great—but it ended too soon。 My affection for Marianne； my
thorough conviction of her attachment to me—it was all
insufficient to outweigh that dread of poverty； or get the better of
those false ideas of the necessity of riches； which I was naturally
inclined to feel； and expensive society had increased。 I had reason
to believe myself secure of my present wife； if I chose to address
her； and I persuaded myself to think that nothing else in common
prudence remained for me to do。 A heavy scene however awaited
me； before I could leave Devonshire；—I was engaged to dine with
you on that very day； some apology was therefore necessary for
my breaking this engagement。 But whether I should write this
apology； or deliver it in person； was a point of long debate。 To see
Marianne； I felt； would be dreadful； and I even doubted whether I
could see her again； and keep to my resolution。 In that point；
however； I undervalued my own magnanimity； as the event
declared； for I went； I saw her； and saw her miserable； and left her
miserable—and left her hoping never to see her again。”
“Why did you call； Mr。 Willoughby？” said Elinor； reproachfully；
“a note would have answered every purpose。—Why was it
necessary to call？”
“It was necessary to my own pride。 I could not bear to leave the
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country in a manner that might lead you； or the rest of the
neighbourhood； to suspect any part of what had really passed
between Mrs。 Smith and myself—and I resolved therefore on
calling at the cottage； in my way to Honiton。 The sight of your dear
sister； however； was really dreadful； and； to heighten the matter； I
found her alone。 You were all gone I do not know where。 I had left
her only the evening before； so fully； so firmly resolved within my
self on doing right！ A few hours were to have engaged her to me
for ever； and I remember how happy； how gay were my spirits； as I
walked from the cottage to Allenham； satisfied with myself；
delighted with every body！ But in this； our last interview of
friendship； I approached her with a sense of guilt that almost took
from me the power of dissembling。 Her sorrow； her
disappointment； her deep regret； when I told her that I was
obliged to leave Devonshire so immediately—I never shall forget
it—united too with such reliance； such confidence in me！—Oh；
God！—what a hard…hearted rascal I was！”
They were both silent for a few moments。 Elinor first spoke。
“Did you tell her that you should soon return？”
“I do not know what I told her；” he replied； impatiently； “less
than was due to the past； beyond a doubt； and in all likelihood
much more than was justified by the future。 I cannot think of it。—
It won’t do。—Then came your dear mother to torture me farther；
with all her kindness and confidence。 Thank Heaven！ it did torture
me。 I was miserable。 Miss Dashwood； you cannot have an idea of
the comfort it gives me to look back on my own misery。 I owe such
a grudge to myself for the stupid； rascally folly of my own heart；
that all my past sufferings under it are only triumph and
exultation to me now。 Well； I went； left all that I loved； and went to
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those to whom； at best； I was only indifferent。 My journey to
town—travelling with my own horses； and therefore so tediously—
no creature to speak to—my own reflections so cheerful—when I
looked forward every thing so inviting！—when I looked back at
Barton； the picture so soothing！—oh； it was a blessed journey！”
He stopped。
“Well； sir；” said Elinor； who； though pitying him； grew
impatient for his departure； “and this is all？”
“Ah！—no；—have you forgot what passed in town？—That
infamous letter—Did she shew it you？”
“Yes； I saw every note that passed。”
“When the first of hers reached me （as it immediately did； for I
was in town the whole time；） what I felt is—in the common phrase；
not to be expressed； in a more simple one—perhaps too simple to
raise any emotion—my feelings were very； very painful。—Every
line； every word was—in the hackneyed metaphor which their
dear writer； were she here； would forbid—a dagger to my heart。
To know that Marianne was in town was—in the same language—
a thunderbolt。—Thunderbolts and daggers！—what a reproof
would she have given me！—her taste； her opinions—I believe they
are better known to me than my own；—and I am sure they are
dearer。”
Elinor’s heart； which had undergone many changes in the
course of this extraordinary conversation； was now softened
again；—yet she felt it her duty to check such ideas in her
companion as the last。
“This is not right； Mr。 Willoughby。—Remember that you are
married。 Relate only what in your conscience you think necessary
for me to hear。”
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