sense and sensibility(理智与情感)-第26节
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of general civility；” said Edward to Elinor。 “Do you gain no
ground？”
“Quite the contrary；” replied Elinor； looking expressively at
Marianne。
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“My judgment；” he returned； “is all on your side of the
question； but I am afraid my practice is much more on your
sister’s。 I never wish to offend； but I am so foolishly shy； that I
often seem negligent； when I am only kept back by my natural
awkwardness。 I have frequently thought that I must have been
intended by nature to be fond of low company； I am so little at my
ease among strangers of gentility！”
“Marianne has not shyness to excuse any inattention of hers；”
said Elinor。
“She knows her own worth too well for false shame；” replied
Edward。 “Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in
some way or other。 If I could persuade myself that my manners
were perfectly easy and graceful； I should not be shy。”
“But you would still be reserved；” said Marianne； “and that is
worse。”
Edward stared—“Reserved！ Am I reserved； Marianne？”
“Yes； very。”
“I do not understand you；” replied he； colouring。 “Reserved！—
how； in what manner？ What am I to tell you？ What can you
suppose？”
Elinor looked surprised at his emotion； but trying to laugh off
the subject； she said to him； “Do not you know my sister well
enough to understand what she means？ Do not you know she calls
every one reserved who does not talk as fast； and admire what she
admires as rapturously as herself？”
Edward made no answer。 His gravity and thoughtfulness
returned on him in their fullest extent—and he sat for some time
silent and dull。
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CHAPTER XVIII
linor saw； with great uneasiness the low spirits of her
friend。 His visit afforded her but a very partial
E
satisfaction； while his own enjoyment in it appeared so
imperfect。 It was evident that he was unhappy； she wished it were
equally evident that he still distinguished her by the same
affection which once she had felt no doubt of inspiring； but
hitherto the continuance of his preference seemed very uncertain；
and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted one
moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding
one。
He joined her and Marianne in the breakfast…room the next
morning before the others were down； and Marianne； who was
always eager to promote their happiness as far as she could； soon
left them to themselves。 But before she was half way upstairs she
heard the parlour door open； and； turning round； was astonished
to see Edward himself come out。
“I am going into the village to see my horses；” said he； “as you
are not yet ready for breakfast； I shall be back again presently。”
———————
Edward returned to them with fresh admiration of the
surrounding country； in his walk to the village； he had seen many
parts of the valley to advantage； and the village itself； in a much
higher situation than the cottage； afforded a general view of the
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whole； which had exceedingly pleased him。 This was a subject
which ensured Marianne’s attention； and she was beginning to
describe her own admiration of these scenes； and to question him
more minutely on the objects that had particularly struck him；
when Edward interrupted her by saying； “You must not enquire
too far； Marianne—remember I have no knowledge in the
picturesque； and I shall offend you by my ignorance and want of
taste if we come to particulars。 I shall call hills steep； which ought
to be bold； surfaces strange and uncouth； which ought to be
irregular and rugged； and distant objects out of sight； which ought
only to be indistinct through the soft medium of a hazy
atmosphere。 You must be satisfied with such admiration as I can
honestly give。 I call it a very fine country—the hills are steep； the
woods seem full of fine timber； and the valley looks comfortable
and snug—with rich meadows and several neat farm houses
scattered here and there。 It exactly answers my idea of a fine
country； because it unites beauty with utility—and I dare say it is a
picturesque one too； because you admire it； I can easily believe it
to be full of rocks and promontories； grey moss and brush wood；
but these are all lost on me。 I know nothing of the picturesque。”
“I am afraid it is but too true；” said Marianne； “but why should
you boast of it？”
“I suspect；” said Elinor； “that to avoid one kind of affectation；
Edward here falls into another。 Because he believes many people
pretend to more admiration of the beauties of nature than they
really feel； and is disgusted with such pretensions； he affects
greater indifference and less discrimination in viewing them
himself than he possesses。 He is fastidious and will have an
affectation of his own。”
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“It is very true；” said Marianne； “that admiration of landscape
scenery is become a mere jargon。 Every body pretends to feel and
tries to describe with the taste and elegance of him who first
defined what picturesque beauty was。 I detest jargon of every
kind； and sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself； because I
could find no language to describe them in but what was worn and
hackneyed out of all sense and meaning。”
“I am convinced；” said Edward； “that you really feel all the
delight in a fine prospect which you profess to feel。 But； in return；
your sister must allow me to feel no more than I profess。 I like a
fine prospect； but not on picturesque principles。 I do not like
crooked； twisted； blasted trees。 I admire them much more if they
are tall； straight； and flourishing。 I do not like ruined； tattered
cottages。 I am not fond of nettles or thistles； or heath blossoms。 I
have more pleasure in a snug farm…house than a watch…tower—
and a troop of tidy； happy villages please me better than the finest
banditti in the world。”
Marianne looked with amazement at Edward； with compassion
at her sister。 Elinor only laughed。
The subject was continued no farther； and Marianne remained
thoughtfully silent； till a new object suddenly engaged her
attention。 She was sitting by Edward； and in taking his tea from
Mrs。 Dashwood； his hand passed so directly before her； as to make
a ring； with a plait of hair in the centre； very conspicuous on one of
his fingers。
“I never saw you wear a ring before； Edward；” she cried。 “Is
that Fanny’s hair？ I remember her promising to give you some。
But I should have thought her hair had been darker。”
Marianne spoke inconsiderately what she really felt—but when
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she saw how much she had pained Edward； her own vexation at
her want of thought could not be surpassed by his。 He coloured
very deeply； and giving a mome
