CHAPTER 7

     Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage.

The ladies had passed near it in their way along the valley,

but it was screened from their view at home by the

projection of a hill.  The house was large and handsome;

and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality

and elegance.  The former was for Sir John's gratification,

the latter for that of his lady.  They were scarcely

ever without some friends staying with them in the house,

and they kept more company of every kind than any other

family in the neighbourhood.  It was necessary to the

happiness of both; for however dissimilar in temper

and outward behaviour, they strongly resembled each other

in that total want of talent and taste which confined

their employments, unconnected with such as society produced,

within a very narrow compass.  Sir John was a sportsman,

Lady Middleton a mother.  He hunted and shot, and she

humoured her children; and these were their only resources.

Lady Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her

children all the year round, while Sir John's independent

employments were in existence only half the time.

Continual engagements at home and abroad, however,

supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education;

supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise

to the good breeding of his wife.
 
 

     Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance

of her table, and of all her domestic arrangements;

and from this kind of vanity was her greatest enjoyment

in any of their parties.  But Sir John's satisfaction

in society was much more real; he delighted in collecting

about him more young people than his house would hold,

and the noisier they were the better was he pleased.

He was a blessing to all the juvenile part of the neighbourhood,

for in summer he was for ever forming parties to eat cold

ham and chicken out of doors, and in winter his private

balls were numerous enough for any young lady who was not

suffering under the unsatiable appetite of fifteen.
 
 

     The arrival of a new family in the country was always

a matter of joy to him, and in every point of view he was

charmed with the inhabitants he had now procured for his

cottage at Barton.  The Miss Dashwoods were young, pretty,

and unaffected.  It was enough to secure his good opinion;

for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could

want to make her mind as captivating as her person.

The friendliness of his disposition made him happy in

accommodating those, whose situation might be considered,

in comparison with the past, as unfortunate.  In showing

kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction

of a good heart; and in settling a family of females only

in his cottage, he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman;

for a sportsman, though he esteems only those of his sex who

are sportsmen likewise, is not often desirous of encouraging

their taste by admitting them to a residence within his own manor.
 
 

     Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door

of the house by Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton

Park with unaffected sincerity; and as he attended them

to the drawing room repeated to the young ladies the concern

which the same subject had drawn from him the day before,

at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them.

They would see, he said, only one gentleman there

besides himself; a particular friend who was staying at

the park, but who was neither very young nor very gay.

He hoped they would all excuse the smallness of the party,

and could assure them it should never happen so again.

He had been to several families that morning in hopes

of procuring some addition to their number, but it

was moonlight and every body was full of engagements.

Luckily Lady Middleton's mother had arrived at Barton

within the last hour, and as she was a very cheerful

agreeable woman, he hoped the young ladies would not find

it so very dull as they might imagine.  The young ladies,

as well as their mother, were perfectly satisfied with

having two entire strangers of the party, and wished for

no more.
 
 

     Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's mother, was a

good-humoured, merry, fat, elderly woman, who talked a

great deal, seemed very happy, and rather vulgar.  She was full

of jokes and laughter, and before dinner was over had said

many witty things on the subject of lovers and husbands;

hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex,

and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not.

Marianne was vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned

her eyes towards Elinor to see how she bore these attacks,

with an earnestness which gave Elinor far more pain than

could arise from such common-place raillery as Mrs. Jennings's.
 
 

     Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no

more adapted by resemblance of manner to be his friend,

than Lady Middleton was to be his wife, or Mrs. Jennings

to be Lady Middleton's mother.  He was silent and grave.

His appearance however was not unpleasing, 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 though his face was not handsome,

his countenance was sensible, and his address was

particularly gentlemanlike.
 
 

     There was nothing in any of the party which could

recommend them as companions to the Dashwoods; but the cold

insipidity of Lady Middleton was so particularly repulsive,

that in comparison of it the gravity of Colonel Brandon,

and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his

mother-in-law was interesting.  Lady Middleton seemed

to be roused to enjoyment only by the entrance of her

four noisy children after dinner, who pulled her about,

tore her clothes, and put an end to every kind of discourse

except what related to themselves.
 
 

     In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical,

she was invited to play.  The instrument was unlocked,

every body prepared to be charmed, and Marianne,

who sang very well, at their request went through the

chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into

the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had lain

ever since in the same position on the pianoforte,

for her ladyship had celebrated that event by giving

up music, although by her mother's account, she had

played extremely well, and by her own was very fond of it.
 
 

     Marianne's performance was highly applauded.

Sir John was loud in his admiration at the end of every song,

and as loud in his conversation with the others while every

song lasted.  Lady Middleton frequently called him to order,

wondered how any one's attention could be diverted from music

for a moment, and asked Marianne to sing a particular song

which Marianne had just finished.  Colonel Brandon alone,

of all the party, heard her without being in raptures.

He paid her only the compliment of attention; and she felt

a respect for him on the occasion, which the others had

reasonably forfeited by their shameless want of taste.

His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that

ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own,

was estimable when contrasted against the horrible

insensibility of the others; and she was reasonable enough

to allow that a man of five and thirty might well have

outlived all acuteness of feeling and every exquisite

power of enjoyment.  She was perfectly disposed to make

every allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life

which humanity required.