eady had Marianne been
disappointed more than once by a rap at a neighbouring door, when a
loud one was suddenly heard which could not be mistaken for one at any
other house, Elinor felt secure of its announcing Willoughby's
approach, and Marianne, starting up, moved towards the door. Every
thing was silent; this could not be borne many seconds; she opened
the door, advanced a few steps towards the stairs, and after listening
half a minute, returned into the room in all the agitation which a
conviction of having heard him would naturally produce; in the ecstasy
of her feelings at that instant she could not help exclaiming, "Oh,
Elinor, it is Willoughby, indeed it is!" and seemed almost ready to
throw herself into his arms, when Colonel Brandon appeared.

It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness, and she
immediately left the room. Elinor was disappointed too; but at the
same time her regard for Colonel Brandon ensured his welcome with her;
and she felt particularly hurt that a man so partial to her sister
should perceive that she experienced nothing but grief and
disappointment in seeing him. She instantly saw that it was not
unnoticed by him, that he even observed Marianne as she quitted the
room, with such astonishment and concern, as hardly left him the
recollection of what civility demanded towards herself.

"Is your sister ill?" said he.

Elinor answered in some distress that she was, and then talked of
head-aches, low spirits, and over fatigues; and of every thing to
which she could decently attribute her sister's behaviour.

He heard her with the most earnest attention, but seeming to recollect
himself, said no more on the subject, and began directly to speak of
his pleasure at seeing them in London, making the usual inquiries
about their journey, and the friends they had left behind.

In this calm kind of way, with very little interest on either side,
they continued to talk, both of them out of spirits, and the thoughts
of both engaged elsewhere. Elinor wished very much to ask whether
Willoughby were then in town, but she was afraid of giving him pain by
any enquiry after his rival; and at length, by way of saying
something, she asked if he had been in London ever since she had seen
him last. "Yes," he replied, with some embarrassment, "almost ever
since; I have been once or twice at Delaford for a few days, but it
has never been in my power to return to Barton."

This, and the manner in which it