 but by their own conjectures.
 

                                  Chapter XIII

Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might appear to the
whole family, it was certain that Edward was free: and to what purpose that
freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all; - for after
experiencing the blessings of one imprudent engagement, contracted without his
mother's consent, as he had already done for more than four years, nothing less
could be expected of him in the failure of that, than the immediate contraction
of another.
    His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask Elinor
to marry him; - and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such
a question, it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the
present case as he really did, so much in need of encouragement and fresh air.
    How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon
an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself,
and how he was received, need not be particularly told. This only need be said;
- that when they all sat down to table at four o'clock, about three hours after
his arrival, he had secured his lady, engaged her mother's consent, and was not
only in the rapturous profession of the lover, but in the reality of reason and
truth, one of the happiest of men. His situation indeed was more than commonly
joyful. He had more than the ordinary triumph of accepted love to swell his
heart, and raise his spirits. He was released without any reproach to himself,
from an entanglement which had long formed his misery, from a woman whom he had
long ceased to love; - and elevated at once to that security with another, which
he must have thought of almost with despair, as soon as he had learnt to
consider it with desire. He was brought, not from doubt or suspense, but from
misery to happiness; - and the change was openly spoken in such a genuine,
flowing, grateful cheerfulness, as his friends had never witnessed in him
before.
    His heart - was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors
confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all the
philosophic dignity of twenty-four.
    »It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side,« said he, »the consequence
of ignorance of the world - and want of employment. Had my mother given me some
active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I
