not be strong enough for Marianne. It seemed more like the agreeable warmth between good friends rather than the ardour of lovers,â Elinor explained.
âAnd yet you said nothing?â Edward could scarcely credit it.
She nodded. âBecause nothing I said would have made a jot of difference to my mother, who saw Colonel Brandon as the only man who could save Marianne from wasting away. He had become her new hero; having had her favourite dethroned, she had placed Colonel Brandon on a pedestal as some kind of noble knight, who had remained in the background, loving Marianne throughout her affair with Willoughby, knowing all the time that he was not a man to be trusted, stepping in to rescue and preserve her at the end. Can you imagine how she would have welcomed any dissenting opinion from me? As for saying anything to Marianne, I did not dare. I, who had defended Colonel Brandon against criticism and ridicule from Marianne and Willoughby often enough, what would she say if I decided to caution her against accepting him too hastily? She could claim that she had come around to seeing in him the very things I had always valued. There was nothing I could do, save pray that it would work out well in the end,â she said.
âAnd you are not confident that it has?â her husband asked, and her answer astonished him.
âSadly I am not; indeed I would go furtherâI fear that while in the most obvious sense, they may appear happily married, there are some things that have caused me much anxiety. They have no children, and I know that causes Marianne and my mother much pain; I can see it in my sisterâs eyes when our boys are around. She would have loved to have had children on whom to lavish the kind of warmth and affection she has so much of. What must make matters even worse is the fact that Colonel Brandon pays a great deal of attention to Eliza Williamsâs daughter, who is really Willoughbyâs illegitimate child. It is a further grievance that Marianne must carry. Can you not imagine how she must feel?â
Edward agreed that it was indeed a most unhappy situation, but pointed out quite reasonably that all these circumstances were known to her sister and their mother before Marianne accepted Colonel Brandonâwith Mrs Dashwoodâs blessing. Elinor conceded that this was true, but contended that neither her mother nor Marianne had paid much attention to it at the time.
âThe child had just been born, and Miss Williams, who Mrs Jennings had assured everybody was Colonel Brandonâs natural daughter, was just a name. No one had met herâwe knew nothing of her, nor did they expect to meet her in the future,â she explained.
âApart from that obvious and continuing problem, are there other reasons that cause you to doubt your sisterâs contentment?â Edward asked, trying not to pry, yet wanting desperately to alleviate his wifeâs anguish. To his astonishment, she admitted that indeed there were.
âI do believe that Marianne is bored; she has little to do at the manor house, which is exceedingly well staffed and efficiently run; she does not become deeply involved in parish or council matters, preferring to leave those to the colonel, and in addition, he has, during the last two years, had to make several visits to his estates in Ireland, leaving her mostly alone. Marianne doesnât make friends easily; she is wary of people whom she doesnât know well, and since Margaret went away to study at the seminary in Oxford, she has not even the consolation of her company. Oh, Edward, forgive me, I should not burden you with what may seem like my silly fears, but I cannot help worrying, especially now that you say that Willoughby is back in Somerset and visiting relatives but a few miles from Delaford.â
He would not let her continue. âElinor, dearest, of course these are not silly fears, I know you well enough to believe that they are