en
abroad, has read, and has a thinking mind. I have found him capable of
giving me much information on various subjects; and he has always
answered my inquiries with readiness of good-breeding and good
nature."

"That is to say," cried Marianne contemptuously, "he has told you,
that in the East Indies the climate is hot, and the mosquitoes are
troublesome."

"He _would_ have told me so, I doubt not, had I made any such
inquiries, but they happened to be points on which I had been
previously informed."

"Perhaps," said Willoughby, "his observations may have extended to the
existence of nabobs, gold mohrs, and palanquins."

"I may venture to say that _his_ observations have stretched much
further than _your_ candour. But why should you dislike him?"

"I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very
respectable man, who has every body's good word, and nobody's notice;
who, has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to
employ, and two new coats every year."

"Add to which," cried Marianne, "that he has neither genius, taste,
nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no
ardour, and his voice no expression."

"You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass," replied Elinor,
"and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the
commendation I am able to give of him is comparatively cold and
insipid. I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred,
well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an
amiable heart."

"Miss Dashwood," cried Willoughby, "you are now using me unkindly. You
are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, and to convince me against my
will. But it will not do. You shall find me as stubborn as you can be
artful. I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel
Brandon; he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he
has found fault with the hanging of my curricle, and I cannot persuade
him to buy my brown mare. If it will be any satisfaction to you,
however, to be told, that I believe his character to be in other
respects irreproachable, I am ready to confess it. And in return for
an acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, you cannot deny me
the privilege of disliking him as much as ever."

CHAPTER XI

Little had Mrs. Dashwood or her daughters imagined when they first
came into Devonshire, that so many engagements would arise to occupy
their time as shortly presented