ly
checked by an apprehension of its robbing Marianne of farther
sleep;--but Mrs. Dashwood could be calm, could be even prudent, when
the life of a child was at stake, and Marianne, satisfied in knowing
her mother was near her, and conscious of being too weak for
conversation, submitted readily to the silence and quiet prescribed by
every nurse around her. Mrs. Dashwood _would_ sit up with her all
night; and Elinor, in compliance with her mother's entreaty, went to
bed. But the rest, which one night entirely sleepless, and many hours
of the most wearing anxiety seemed to make requisite, was kept off by
irritation of spirits. Willoughby, "poor Willoughby," as she now
allowed herself to call him, was constantly in her thoughts; she would
not but have heard his vindication for the world, and now blamed, now
acquitted herself for having judged him so harshly before. But her
promise of relating it to her sister was invariably painful. She
dreaded the performance of it, dreaded what its effect on Marianne
might be; doubted whether after such an explanation she could ever be
happy with another; and for a moment wished Willoughby a widower.
Then, remembering Colonel Brandon, reproved herself, felt that to
_his_ sufferings and _his_ constancy far more than to his rival's, the
reward of her sister was due, and wished any thing rather than Mrs.
Willoughby's death.

The shock of Colonel Brandon's errand at Barton had been much softened
to Mrs. Dashwood by her own previous alarm; for so great was her
uneasiness about Marianne, that she had already determined to set out
for Cleveland on that very day, without waiting for any further
intelligence, and had so far settled her journey before his arrival,
that the Careys were then expected every moment to fetch Margaret
away, as her mother was unwilling to take her where there might be
infection.

Marianne continued to mend every day, and the brilliant cheerfulness
of Mrs. Dashwood's looks and spirits proved her to be, as she
repeatedly declared herself, one of the happiest women in the world.
Elinor could not hear the declaration, nor witness its proofs without
sometimes wondering whether her mother ever recollected Edward. But
Mrs. Dashwood, trusting to the temperate account of her own
disappointment which Elinor had sent her, was led away by the
exuberance of her joy to think only of what would increase it.
Marianne was restored to her from a danger in which, as she now began
to fe