designs on her. Whatever they may
have been, however, she may now, and hereafter doubtless _will_, turn
with gratitude towards her own condition, when she compares it with
that of my poor Eliza, when she considers the wretched and hopeless
situation of this poor girl, and pictures her to herself, with an
affection for him so strong, still as strong as her own, and with a
mind tormented by self-reproach, which must attend her through life.
Surely this comparison must have its use with her. She will feel her
own sufferings to be nothing. They proceed from no misconduct, and can
bring no disgrace. On the contrary, every friend must be made still
more her friend by them. Concern for her unhappiness, and respect for
her fortitude under it, must strengthen every attachment. Use your own
discretion, however, in communicating to her what I have told you. You
must know best what will be its effect; but had I not seriously, and
from my heart believed it might be of service, might lessen her
regrets, I would not have suffered myself to trouble you with this
account of my family afflictions, with a recital which may seem to
have been intended to raise myself at the expense of others."

Elinor's thanks followed this speech with grateful earnestness;
attended too with the assurance of her expecting material advantage
to Marianne, from the communication of what had passed.

"I have been more pained," said she, "by her endeavors to acquit him
than by all the rest; for it irritates her mind more than the most
perfect conviction of his unworthiness can do. Now, though at first
she will suffer much, I am sure she will soon become easier. Have
you," she continued, after a short silence, "ever seen Mr. Willoughby
since you left him at Barton?"

"Yes," he replied gravely, "once I have. One meeting was unavoidable."

Elinor, startled by his manner, looked at him anxiously, saying--

"What? have you met him to--"

"I could meet him no other way. Eliza had confessed to me, though most
reluctantly, the name of her lover; and when he returned to town,
which was within a fortnight after myself, we met by appointment, he
to defend, I to punish his conduct. We returned unwounded, and the
meeting, therefore, never got abroad."

Elinor sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a
soldier she presumed not to censure it.

"Such," said Colonel Brandon, after a pause, "has been the unhappy
resemblance between the fate of mother