 the denial which her wishes might direct.«
    Elinor thought this generosity overstrained, considering her sister's youth,
and urged the matter farther, but in vain; common sense, common care, common
prudence, were all sunk in Mrs. Dashwood's romantic delicacy.
    It was several days before Willoughby's name was mentioned before Marianne
by any of her family; Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, indeed, were not so nice;
their witticisms added pain to many a painful hour; - but one evening, Mrs.
Dashwood, accidentally taking up a volume of Shakespeare, exclaimed,
    »We have never finished Hamlet, Marianne; our dear Willoughby went away
before we could get through it. We will put it by, that when he comes again. ...
But it may be months, perhaps, before that happens.«
    »Months!« cried Marianne, with strong surprise. »No - nor many weeks.«
    Mrs. Dashwood was sorry for what she had said; but it gave Elinor pleasure,
as it produced a reply from Marianne so expressive of confidence in Willoughby
and knowledge of his intentions.
    One morning, about a week after his leaving the country, Marianne was
prevailed on to join her sisters in their usual walk, instead of wandering away
by herself. Hitherto she had carefully avoided every companion in her rambles.
If her sisters intended to walk on the downs, she directly stole away towards
the lanes; if they talked of the valley, she was as speedy in climbing the
hills, and could never be found when the others set off. But at length she was
secured by the exertions of Elinor, who greatly disapproved such continual
seclusion. They walked along the road through the valley, and chiefly in
silence, for Marianne's mind could not be controuled, and Elinor, satisfied with
gaining one point, would not then attempt more. Beyond the entrance of the
valley, where the country, though still rich, was less wild and more open, a
long stretch of the road which they had travelled on first coming to Barton, lay
before them; and on reaching that point, they stopped to look around them, and
examine a prospect which formed the distance of their view from the cottage,
from a spot which they had never happened to reach in any of their walks before.
    Amongst the objects in the scene, they soon discovered an animated one; it
was a man on horseback riding towards them. In a few minutes they could
distinguish him to be a gentleman; and in a moment afterwards Marianne
rapturously exclaimed,
    »It
