great sincerity, that she did pity her--to the utter
amazement of Lucy, who, though really uncomfortable herself,
hoped at least to be an object of irrepressible envy to Elinor.

Mrs. Ferrars was a little, thin woman, upright,
even to formality, in her figure, and serious,
even to sourness, in her aspect. Her complexion was sallow;
and her features small, without beauty, and naturally
without expression; but a lucky contraction of the brow
had rescued her countenance from the disgrace of insipidity,
by giving it the strong characters of pride and ill nature.
She was not a woman of many words; for, unlike people
in general, she proportioned them to the number of
her ideas; and of the few syllables that did escape her,
not one fell to the share of Miss Dashwood, whom she eyed
with the spirited determination of disliking her at all events.

Elinor could not NOW be made unhappy by this behaviour.--
A few months ago it would have hurt her exceedingly; but it
was not in Mrs. Ferrars' power to distress her by it now;--
and the difference of her manners to the Miss Steeles,
a difference which seemed purposely made to humble her more,
only amused her. She could not but smile to see the graciousness
of both mother and daughter towards the very person--
for Lucy was particularly distinguished--whom of all others,
had they known as much as she did, they would have been most
anxious to mortify; while she herself, who had comparatively
no power to wound them, sat pointedly slighted by both.
But while she smiled at a graciousness so misapplied,
she could not reflect on the mean-spirited folly from