 had been blameable, highly
blameable, in remaining at Norland after he first felt her influence over him to
be more than it ought to be. In that, he could not be defended; but if he had
injured her, how much more had he injured himself; if her case were pitiable,
his was hopeless. His imprudence had made her miserable for a while; but it
seemed to have deprived himself of all chance of ever being otherwise. She might
in time regain tranquillity; but he, what had he to look forward to? Could he
ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele; could he, were his affection for
herself out of the question, with his integrity, his delicacy, and well-informed
mind, be satisfied with a wife like her - illiterate, artful, and selfish? The
youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally blind him to every thing but
her beauty and good nature; but the four succeeding years - years, which if
rationally spent, give such improvement to the understanding, must have opened
his eyes to her defects of education, while the same period of time, spent on
her side in inferior society and more frivolous pursuits, had perhaps robbed her
of that simplicity, which might once have given an interesting character to her
beauty.
    If in the supposition of his seeking to marry herself, his difficulties from
his mother had seemed great, how much greater were they now likely to be, when
the object of his engagement was undoubtedly inferior in connections, and
probably inferior in fortune to herself. These difficulties, indeed, with an
heart so alienated from Lucy, might not press very hard upon his patience; but
melancholy was the state of the person, by whom the expectation of family
opposition and unkindness, could be felt as a relief!
    As these considerations occurred to her in painful succession, she wept for
him, more than for herself. Supported by the conviction of having done nothing
to merit her present unhappiness, and consoled by the belief that Edward had
done nothing to forfeit her esteem, she thought she could even now, under the
first smart of the heavy blow, command herself enough to guard every suspicion
of the truth from her mother and sisters. And so well was she able to answer her
own expectations, that when she joined them at dinner only two hours after she
had first suffered the extinction of all her dearest hopes, no one would have
supposed from the appearance of the sisters, that Elinor was mourning in secret
over obstacles which must divide her for ever from the object of her love, and
that Marianne was internally dwelling on the
