ot ask your opinion of it as a composition," said
Edward.--"For worlds would not I have had a letter of hers seen by YOU
in former days.--In a sister it is bad enough, but in a wife!--how I
have blushed over the pages of her writing!--and I believe I may say
that since the first half year of our foolish--business--this is the
only letter I ever received from her, of which the substance made me
any amends for the defect of the style."

"However it may have come about," said Elinor, after a pause,--"they
are certainly married. And your mother has brought on herself a most
appropriate punishment. The independence she settled on Robert,
through resentment against you, has put it in his power to make his own
choice; and she has actually been bribing one son with a thousand
a-year, to do the very deed which she disinherited the other for
intending to do. She will hardly be less hurt, I suppose, by Robert's
marrying Lucy, than she would have been by your marrying her."

"She will be more hurt by it, for Robert always was her favourite.--She
will be more hurt by it, and on the same principle will forgive him
much sooner."

In what state the affair stood at present between them, Edward knew
not, for no communication with any of his family had yet been attempted
by him. He had quitted Oxford within four and twenty hours after
Lucy's letter arrived, and with only one object before him, the nearest
road to Barton, had had no leisure to form any scheme of conduct, with
which that road did not hold the most intimate connection. He could do
nothing till he were assured of his fate with Miss Dashwood; and by his
rapidity in seeking THAT fate, it is to be supposed, in spite of the
jealousy with which he had once thought of Colonel Brandon, in spite of
the modesty with which he rated his own deserts, and the politeness
with which he talked of his doubts, he did not, upon the whole, expect
a very cruel reception. It was his business, however, to say that he
DID, and he said it very prettily. What he might say on the subject a
twelvemonth after, must be referred to the imagination of husbands and
wives.

That Lucy had certainly meant to deceive, to go off with a flourish of
malice against him in her message by Thomas, was perfectly clear to
Elinor; and Edward himself, now thoroughly enlightened on her
character, had no scruple in believing her capable of the utmost
meanness of wanton ill-nature. Though his eyes had been long ope