
The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding them, were now become
familiar, and the ordinary pursuits which had given to Norland half its charms,
were engaged in again with far greater enjoyment than Norland had been able to
afford, since the loss of their father. Sir John Middleton, who called on them
every day for the first fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much
occupation at home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them always
employed.
    Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many; for, in spite
of Sir John's urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the neighbourhood,
and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at their service, the
independence of Mrs. Dashwood's spirit overcame the wish of society for her
children; and she was resolute in declining to visit any family beyond the
distance of a walk. There were but few who could be so classed; and it was not
all of them that were attainable. About a mile and a half from the cottage,
along the narrow winding valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton,
as formerly described, the girls had, in one of their earliest walks, discovered
an ancient respectable looking mansion, which, by reminding them a little of
Norland, interested their imagination and made them wish to be better acquainted
with it. But they learnt, on inquiry, that its possessor, an elderly lady of
very good character, was unfortunately too infirm to mix with the world, and
never stirred from home.
    The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks. The high downs
which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to seek the exquisite
enjoyment of air on their summits, were an happy alternative when the dirt of
the valleys beneath shut up their superior beauties; and towards one of these
hills did Marianne and Margaret one memorable morning direct their steps,
attracted by the partial sunshine of a showery sky, and unable longer to bear
the confinement which the settled rain of the two preceding days had occasioned.
The weather was not tempting enough to draw the two others from their pencil and
their book, in spite of Marianne's declaration that the day would be lastingly
fair, and that every threatening cloud would be drawn off from their hills; and
the two girls set off together.
    They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own penetration at every
glimpse of blue sky; and when they caught in their faces the animating gales of
an high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears which had prevented their
mother and Elinor from
