Sense and Sensibility

by Jane Austen

bequeath

devolved

moiety

Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led to imprudence.

Marianne’s abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor’s. She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but

prudent.

The resemblance between her and her mother was s...

imbibed

stipulate

disinclination

approbation

propensities

propensities,

She knew that what Marianne and her mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next—that with them, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.

felicity.

aggrandizement.

To quit the neighbourhood of Norland was no longer an evil; it was an object of desire; it was a blessing, in comparison of the misery of continuing her daughter-in-law’s guest;

prudent

disapprobation

diminution

approbation.

in spite of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty; but

Jane Austen is dare I say, funny?

jointure.

at the

raillery

impertinence,

When is a man to be safe from such wit, if age and infirmity will not protect him?”

“Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism? and is not that the commonest infirmity of declining life?”

“Perhaps,” said Elinor, “thirty-five and seventeen had better not have any thing to do with matrimony together. But if there should by any chance happen to be a woman who is single at seven and twenty, I should not think Colonel Brandon’s being thirty-five any objection to his marrying her.” “A woman of seven and twenty,” said Marianne, after pausing a moment, “can never hope to feel or inspire affection again,

Sense and Sensibility

“But he talked of flannel waistcoats,” said Marianne; “and with me a flannel waistcoat is invariably connected with aches, cramps, rheumatisms, and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and the feeble.”

How cold, how composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the last evening of their being together!

Even now her self-command is invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?”

Eleanor

in a manner so frank and so graceful that his person, which was uncommonly handsome, received additional charms from his voice and expression.

His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn for the hero of a favourite story; and in his carrying her into the house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of thought which particularly recommended the action to her.

Every circumstance belonging to him was interesting. His name was good, his residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming.

“I do not believe,” said Mrs. Dashwood, with a good-humoured smile, “that Mr. Willoughby will be incommoded by the attempts of either of my daughters towards what you call catching him. It is not an employment to which they have been brought up.

“That is an expression, Sir John,” said Marianne, warmly, “which I particularly dislike. I abhor every common-place phrase by which wit is intended; and ‘setting one’s cap at a man,’ or ‘making a conquest,’ are the most odious of all. Their tendency is gross and illiberal; and if their construction could ever be deemed clever, time has long ago destroyed all its ingenuity.”

Sir John did not much understand this reproof;

Marianne, when called on for hers, offended them all, by declaring that she had no opinion to give, as she had never thought about it.

Her pleasure in seeing him was like every other of her feelings, strong in itself, and strongly spoken.

Because they neither flattered herself nor her children, she could not believe them good-natured; and because they were fond of reading, she fancied them satirical: perhaps without exactly knowing what it was to be satirical; but that did not signify.

Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational opposition.

“The Colonel is a ninny, my dear; because he has two thousand a-year himself, he thinks that nobody else can marry on less.

She would not be so weak as to throw away the comfort of a child, and yet retain the anxiety of a parent!”