Sense and Sensibility: Colonel Brandon's Proposal "Equal Felicity"
Her elder sister now secured in marriage, Marianne was in a way to find equal felicity. She had not fully 'lost her bloom,' as her brother so elegantly put it. Indeed, her attractions were amplified by a newfound reserve and cooler judgment. Her liveliness and romantic sensibilities were ever-present, but tempered by the reverence the events of the past year had instilled in her. She began to appreciate Elinor's stabilizing role in the family and devoted herself to both the improvement of her mind and training to run a household. This is not to say that Marianne became so very serious—in many ways she was as she ever was. Hours spent over her French lessons were increasingly tedious and many a longing glance was sent towards the window. Her devotion to nature and poetry was as steady as ever, strengthened by finding a new partner in her interests.
Colonel Brandon was now a daily visitor to Barton Cottage. He would arrive with Edward very often before breakfast, spending the majority of the morning in Marianne's company before riding out with Edward to oversee improvements to the parsonage. Marianne's sincere gratitude towards the Colonel encouraged these attentions. Her vanity was satisfied with his clear preference of her company and her romantic heart gratified by his superior poetry readings. Where another gentleman had been deficient in his orations, Colonel Brandon was a passionate and enthusiastic reader. His voice infused passion in every line of poetry, rising and falling at the proper moments. But perhaps every man in love is capable of such a performance, his affection for Marianne filling every word.
Often the pair would walk the lawn together with Elinor and Edward as their negligent chaperones, for often as the betrothed couple walked they would fall behind, leaving Marianne and the Colonel far outstripping them. Still other times, when the weather was not so fine, Marianne would oblige the family and their guests with her playing. Colonel Brandon listened eagerly, taking in her melodious voice and admiring her talented fingering of the keys. He doted on her, bringing new sheet music from London, and even arranging for a new seat for her pianoforte. These attentions Marianne dismissed as being for the benefit of the whole family. Her heart was much more cautious to form an attachment and she vowed she would not repeat her past mistakes.
On one such visit from the Colonel, Marianne was seated at her piano engrossed in her song. Elinor listened to her with pleasure, but the Colonel seemed highly unsettled. He paced back and forth throughout the parlor, alternating between staring out the window and standing with his face to the hearth. He toyed with the curtains, appearing intensely interested in their folds and placement. Elinor shrewdly observed his agitation and discerned its source from the numerous timid, but gentle glances the suitor made towards her sister. She smiled at the thought of the Colonel making an offer to Marianne, but her hands shook in fear of Marianne's answer. At the same time she tried in vain to catch the Colonel's eye to send him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. Marianne played on, oblivious to the scene unfolding before her or the nervous anticipation which hung in the air. As she reached the end of the song, Elinor made her excuses, exiting the room to see about tea. Marianne and the Colonel sat in silence until it became absolutely necessary that someone speak.
"What a beautiful song, Miss Marianne, and how well you play it."
"I thank you sir. I do not pretend to have a particular talent such as Elinor has for drawing, but I do try to better myself in any means that I can."
"Here we must disagree, Miss, for I confess nothing gives me more pleasure than to hear you play."
Here Marianne turned slightly pink in embarrassment and pleasure, and the Colonel, misinterpreting her silence for displeasure, resumed his tour of the room and excessive attention to the drapery. Marianne's confusion and discomfort can be supposed at this moment. Still unsure of herself and mortified by her conduct with Willoughby, she wondered what she had said that was wrong. Luckily, the moment was broken by the entrance of Elinor and the housekeeper with the tea. Elinor was not oblivious to the scene which presented itself as she entered the room. Taking in Colonel Brandon's stoic stance at the window and Marianne's blush and look of confusion, she surmised what must have occurred. Colonel Brandon, insecure in his attentions and affection for her sister, took any glance or word from her sister as an avowal of her disinterest in him. Marianne, still recovering from her own foolishness, refused to trust her emotions, leaving her in a fit of confusion.
Secure in her own happiness, Elinor's deepest desire was for her sister to enjoy equal felicity in marriage. Following such a bitter disappointment and a near-fatal illness, a new, happy situation for Marianne would be of great consolation for Elinor, for though Marianne was determined to appear at once cheerful and reserved, the force of her true feelings betrayed her. Elinor viewed with pain Marianne's downcast eyes and sad smiles. Elinor knew Marianne suffered dreadfully and silently, and often wished her emotions would be as violent and passionate as they once were, for at least then she would not have to witness Marianne's struggle to dissemble. She was confident that Colonel Brandon loved her sister and she was confident that he was the best of men. She was uncertain, however of Marianne's heart. Her manner towards him was warm, infused with gratitude and regard, but did she love him? She knew her sister could not be satisfied with mere esteem and affection—she desired love and passion. Could Marianne be satisfied with Colonel Brandon and his flannel waistcoats? Despite Elinor's earnest wishes for her sister and the Colonel to marry, she could not bear to see Marianne unhappy. Therefore she resolved within herself to speak candidly with her sister at the next available moment.
In the present, however, Marianne continued to look abashed and Colonel Brandon to stare fixedly out the window. Elinor was spared the task of facilitating conversation by the entrance of Margaret who declared her desire to be out of doors on such a lovely day. Colonel Brandon gave his assent and solicitously entreated the company of the elder sisters. Elinor, though not a great walker, gave her assent in the hope to allow Colonel Brandon and Marianne time alone on the path. Marianne's color brightened at the mention of being outdoors and she heartily agreed to any such plan that would place her in nature. And so the party of four set out upon their walk. Elinor hung back to check Margaret's exuberance and allow her sister and admirer to walk ahead.
"There is no felicity in the world equal to this, don't you agree, Colonel?" Marianne broke the silence, startling the Colonel, whose thoughts were similarly engaged, though meditating on a different source of felicity than nature, the young lady beside him.
"Indeed, Miss Marianne, I do enjoy a pleasant walk in nature, especially in the company of such an agreeable companion, but perhaps you do not share this latter view and bemoan being saddled with such a rheumatic, tiresome gentleman."
Here Marianne colored and responded passionately, "Indeed you mistake my feelings entirely! You are not tiresome—I value your company only next to that of my dear family."
Colonel Brandon was astonished by the vehemence and passion of her response, but this candor was what attracted him to her. He felt gratified that she desired his company and thought so highly of him. Could he dare to hope that she might return his feelings?
As he pondered this, Marianne continued, "Your friendship and kindness has been so great and I so undeserving a recipient, I cannot help but be grateful."
The Colonel's renewed spirits sunk with this speech—she viewed him with gratitude, not love. He was merely a friend to her and his dearest hopes to be infinitely more were dashed. His cheerful countenance once again gave way to melancholy and the pair lapsed into silence.
From a distance Elinor viewed their exchange and hurried up the path to meet them, declaring herself weary of the exercise and begging her sister's arm back to the house. The Colonel took his leave of the sisters and Marianne asked innocently when they might enjoy the pleasure of his company again. He looked grave, replying that he might not be expected for days hence due to business in London. Though he did not see Marianne's look of disappointment, Elinor certainly did and resolved to speak with Marianne in order to discern her feelings toward the Colonel. The Colonel tipped his hat, bidding good day to the ladies, and with a lingering glance at Marianne, set off on the path to Delaford.
As Margaret walked ahead picking wildflowers, Elinor seized the opportunity to speak with her sister. "It is a great shame the Colonel leaving for London, is it not? He has been a most devoted visitor these past weeks."
"To be sure, he will be missed. We had only begun to read "Much Ado About Nothing" and were to work on a new duet on the pianoforte," was Marianne's cool reply. However, Elinor was not satisfied, suspecting her sister's growing feelings for the Colonel, whether she was yet aware of them or not, as the true reason for Marianne's dejection.
"He has been a great friend to you, has he not Marianne? He obviously holds you in high regard."
"True, Elinor, a greater friend I could not ask for. However, I will not pretend to be ignorant of your true insinuations. I know you think the Colonel to be in love with me and esteem me with the same affection he showed me last fall. But could it be possible? I who spurned his attentions for the preference of another so wholly undeserving in comparison? What pride could bear the injury? No Elinor, I am convinced he feels nothing but friendship for me, though his cold manner today puts me in doubt of even that."
Elinor saw clearly her sister's feelings in this speech. Her sister did not know it, but she loved the Colonel. Marianne's lingering shame over her conduct with Willoughby had made her cautious and less self-assured. To everyone but Marianne the Colonel's love for her was apparent. Marianne, however, could not trust her own judgment. Elinor saw that she needed to be enlightened.
"Marianne, what are your feelings for the Colonel?"
"Oh Elinor, I don't know! I was so horribly mistaken about Willoughby, what if I am wrong again? I cannot bear to lose his friendship. Apart from you and mother, he is the person whose opinion I value the most. He is a great man and I am so unworthy. How could he ever love me?"
At this Elinor merely smiled, formulating a plan to talk to the Colonel herself at the nearest opportunity.
Four days passed until the Colonel returned from London. At the earliest opportunity Elinor took it upon herself to make the one-mile trek from the parsonage to the main house to call on him. She found the Colonel alone in his study, his head in his hands. As she was announced he looked up and the expression of utter despair written in the lines of his face struck Elinor.
"I hope I am not intruding, Colonel, but I heard you had returned and wished to invite you to the parsonage for supper tonight. My sister shall be our guest and I am sure she longs to see you."
At this the man looked at her with wonder, then, as if remembering something painful, he shook his head. "Marianne cannot be at a loss for my company. I am sure she does quite well without a tedious old man vying for her attention."
"Indeed, Colonel, you are very wrong. I know my sister's heart better than she herself does. The events of the past year have taken a toll on her spirits and self-confidence. She believes no man can love her because she has behaved foolishly. She despairs of your ruined opinion of her—"
Here the Colonel cut her off, "—How could she think so? She is perfection. She must know my regard for her."
"She mistook your distant behavior the other day. She believes you no longer desire her company."
"I must see her, tell her how much I esteem her! But will she be receptive to my affection? She must regard me with mere friendship."
Elinor smiled, "Sir, though my sister has not betrayed as much to me, I have observed the way she looks at you. I believe she will be more than receptive."
Colonel Brandon arrived at the parsonage remarkably early that night. As Elinor saw to dinner preparations, Edward invited him into his study for some brandy. The Colonel took the drink gratefully, downing it in one swallow. The spirits did little to calm his nerves and he paced the floor wringing his hat in his hands.
Marianne arrived at the parsonage just as supper was finished. Elinor welcomed her sister and bid her fetch the men from the parlor. Marianne hurried off, but stopped abruptly in the doorway as she nearly collided with the Colonel. She flushed, whether with embarrassment or pleasure, she hardly knew.
"Good evening Miss Marianne. I have just arrived back from London today and your sister was so good as to invite me to supper."
Marianne made an effort to steady her voice, "Good evening Colonel. I hope your trip was pleasant. I have certainly missed your company at the Cottage."
"You have?" Colonel Brandon asked with a smile.
Marianne flushed and struggled to correct her statement, "Of course, my family takes great pleasure in your visits."
The Colonel took a step towards her, "That is not what you said, Miss. You said that you have missed my company."
Marianne stood fixed on the spot, hardly knowing what to say, wanting to check the emotions threatening to burst forth from her. She chose to look down and say nothing.
The Colonel, emboldened by her mistaken confession, stooped to catch her eye. "Miss Marianne, I must confess something as well. Nothing gives me more pleasure than your company."
Marianne looked at him astonished, hot tears of embarrassment and happiness threatening to spill from her eyes. "Truly?" she breathed.
"Truly," the Colonel smiled, "Miss Marianne I have waited many months to tell you my affection, nay my love, for you. I know I cannot hope for your love, but is it too much to ask for your companionship and esteem?"
Marianne smiled radiantly through her tears, "Indeed Colonel, you may have my love as well."
The Colonel looked stunned, but shock was soon replaced with incredible happiness. He grasped her hands, stooping to one knee, "Miss Marianne, will you make me the happiest of men and consent to be my wife?"
"Yes." The End.