could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor's.

Lucy, with a demure and settled air, seemed determined
to make no contribution to the comfort of the others,
and would not say a word; and almost every thing that WAS
said, proceeded from Elinor, who was obliged to volunteer
all the information about her mother's health, their coming
to town, &c. which Edward ought to have inquired about,
but never did.

Her exertions did not stop here; for she soon
afterwards felt herself so heroically disposed as
to determine, under pretence of fetching Marianne,
to leave the others by themselves; and she really did it,
and THAT in the handsomest manner, for she loitered away
several minutes on the landing-place, with the most
high-minded fortitude, before she went to her sister.
When that was once done, however, it was time for the raptures
of Edward to cease; for Marianne's joy hurried her into
the drawing-room immediately. Her pleasure in seeing him
was like every other of her feelings, strong in itself,
and strongly spoken. She met him with a hand that would
be taken, and a voice that expressed the affection of a sister.

"Dear Edward!" she cried, "this is a moment of great
happiness!--This would almost make amends for every thing?"

Edward tried to return her kindness as it deserved,
but before such witnesses he dared not say half what he
really felt. Again they all sat down, and for a moment