Sense And Sensibility And Sea Monsters (15 page)

Elinor was obliged to turn from her, in the middle of her prattling, to receive the rest of the party; Lady Middleton introduced the two strangers; Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret came down stairs at the same time, and they all sat down to look at one another.

Mrs. Palmer was Lady Middleton’s younger sister; she, too, been abducted at machete-point by Sir John and his hunting party; short and plump, she had gone as prize to Mr. Palmer, Sir John’s right-hand man on that particular expedition. Several years younger than Lady Middleton, she was totally unlike her in every respect; she had a very pretty face, and the finest expression of good humour. Her attitude had none of the simmering resentment of her sister’s, and one never received the impression from her, as one did on occasion from Lady Middleton, that given the right opportunity she would slit the throats of all present and decamp to her native country. She came in with a smile, and smiled all the time of her visit, except when she laughed. Her husband was grave-looking, with an air of more fashion and sense than his wife, but of less willingness to please or be pleased. Clad in the hunting boots and battered hunting cap of the ex-adventurer he was, he entered the room with a look of self-consequence, slightly bowed to the ladies, without speaking a word, and, after briefly surveying them and their apartments, took up a newspaper from the table, and continued to read it as long as he stayed.

“Mr. Palmer,” said Sir John quietly to Elinor, by way of explanation, “has a certain unwholesome frame of mind. There are men, such as myself, who set off to see the world and return with an animated spirit, pleased with the things they have known and seen. Others—there are others who return with the darkness upon them.”

Mrs. Palmer, on the contrary, was strongly endowed by nature with a turn for being uniformly civil and happy. “Well! What a delightful room this is! I never saw anything so charming! How I should like such a place for myself! Should not you, Mr. Palmer?”

Mr. Palmer made her no answer, and did not even raise his eyes from the newspaper.

“Mr. Palmer does not hear me,” said she, laughing. “He never does sometimes. It is so ridiculous!”

This was quite a new idea to Mrs. Dashwood; she had never found wit in the inattention of anyone, and could not help looking with surprise at them both.

Mrs. Jennings, in the meantime, talked on as loud as she could and continued her account of their surprise the evening before on seeing their family, without ceasing till everything was told. Mrs. Palmer laughed heartily at the recollection of their astonishment, and everybody agreed, two or three times over, that it had been quite an agreeable surprise.

“You may believe how glad we all were to see them,” added Mrs. Jennings, leaning forward towards Elinor, and speaking in a low voice as if she meant to be heard by no one else, though they were seated on different sides of the room; “but I can’t help wishing they had not travelled quite so fast, nor made such a long journey of it, for they came all round by Sub-Marine Station Beta upon account of some business, for you know (nodding significantly and pointing to her daughter) it was wrong in her situation. I wanted her to stay at home and rest this morning, but she would come with us; she longed so much to see you all!”

Mrs. Palmer laughed, and said it would not do her any harm.

“She expects to be confined in February,” continued Mrs. Jennings.

Lady Middleton could no longer endure such a conversation, and therefore exerted herself to ask Mr. Palmer if there was any news in the paper.

“Whaler eaten by whale. Crew all dead,” he replied curtly, and read on.

“Here comes Marianne,” cried Sir John. “Now, Palmer, you shall see a monstrous pretty girl.” Mr. Palmer did not look up, but rather turned the page of his newspaper slowly, communicating thereby that the very idea of prettiness in a girl was trivial in the extreme, when set against the great masses of un-prettiness of which the world was in essence comprised.

Sir John grabbed his cane and went into the passage, opened the front door, and ushered her in himself. Mrs. Jennings asked her, as soon as she appeared, if she had not been to Allenham Isle; and Mrs. Palmer laughed so heartily at the question, as to show she understood it. Mrs. Palmer’s eye was now caught by the driftwood sculpture of Buckingham Palace which decorated the sideboard. She got up to examine it.

“Oh! How well carved that is! Do but look, Mama, how sweet! I declare it is quite charming; I could look at it for ever.” And then sitting down again, she very soon forgot that there was any such thing in the room, even though the driftwood palace smelled unpleasantly of the algae that still clung to it.

When Lady Middleton rose to go away, Mr. Palmer rose also, laid down the newspaper, stretched himself and looked at them all around.

“My love, have you been asleep?” said his wife, laughing.

He made her no answer; and only observed, after again examining the room, that it was very low pitched, and that the ceiling was crooked. He then made his bow, sighed heavily, and departed with the rest.

Sir John had been very urgent with them all to spend the next day on Deadwind Island. Mrs. Dashwood, who did not choose to dine with them oftener than they dined at the cottage, absolutely refused on her own account; her daughters might do as they pleased. But they had no curiosity to see how Mr. and Mrs. Palmer ate their dinner, and no expectation of pleasure from them in any other way. They attempted therefore to excuse themselves also; the weather was uncertain, the fog so thick as to be virtually impassable. But Sir John would not be satisfied—his yacht, with fog-cutters attached, should be sent for them and they must come. Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. Palmer joined their entreaties, and the young ladies were obliged to yield.

“Why should they ask us?” said Marianne, as soon as they were gone. “The rent of this shanty is low; but we have it on very hard terms, if we are to dine on Deadwind Island whenever anyone is staying either with them, or with us.”

“They mean no less to be civil and kind to us now,” said Elinor, hands busy once more with a new hunk of driftwood, which she intended to shape into Henry VIII. “The difference is not in them, if their parties are grown tedious and dull. We must look for the change elsewhere.”

A
S THEY ENTERED
the drawing-room of the Middleton’s at one door, Mrs. Palmer came running in at the other, looking as good humoured and merry as before. She took them all most affectionately by the hand, and expressed great delight in seeing them again.

“I am so glad to see you!” said she, seating herself between Elinor and Marianne, “for the fog is so thick today, and bears such an ominous aspect, that I was afraid you might be lost at sea, or crash up against the rocks, or otherwise meet your watery doom, which would be a shame, as we go away again to-morrow. We must go, for the Westons come to us next week you know. It was quite a sudden thing our coming at all, and I knew nothing of it till the clipper was chained at the dock, and then Mr. Palmer asked me if I would go with him. He is so droll! He never tells me anything! I am so sorry we cannot stay longer; however, we shall meet again in-Station very soon, I hope.”

Elinor was obliged to put an end to such an expectation.

“Not go to Sub-Marine Station Beta!” cried Mrs. Palmer, with a laugh, “I shall be quite disappointed if you do not. I could get the nicest docking in the world for you, next door to ours. You must come, indeed!”

They thanked her, but were obliged to resist all her entreaties.

“Oh, my love,” cried Mrs. Palmer to her husband, who just then entered the room. “You must help me to persuade the Miss Dashwoods to sail to Station Beta this winter.”

Her love made no answer. After slightly bowing to the ladies, he began complaining of the weather.

“How horrid is this smothering fog!” said he. “It is like death itself—insatiable, unavoidable, all-consuming. What the devil does Sir John mean by not having a billiard room in his house? How few people know what comfort is!”

The rest of the company soon dropped in. When all were seated in the dining-room, the table was set, the roasted armadillo was served, and the sconces were lit, Sir John observed with regret that they were only eight all together.

“My dear,” said he to his Lady Middleton, “it is very provoking that we should be so few. Why did not you ask the Gilberts to come to us today?”

“Did not I tell you, Sir John, when you spoke to me about it before, that it could not be done? Mrs. Gilbert is averse to dining upon armadillo, as she fears its armored plates will cleave her intestines.”

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Jennings, and earning an approving laugh from Sir John but a glare of disapproval from Mr. Palmer.

“Your comment reveals you very ill-bred,” said he to his mother-in-law.

“My love, you contradict everybody,” said his wife with her usual laugh. “Do you know that you are quite rude?”

“I did not know I contradicted anybody in calling your mother ill-bred.”

“Aye, you may abuse me as you please,” said the good-natured old lady, “you have taken Charlotte off my hands, dragged her off in a net, in fact, and cannot give her back again. So there I have the whip hand of you.”

Charlotte laughed heartily to think that her husband could not get rid of her; she exultingly said, she did not care how cross he was to her, as they must live together. It was impossible for anyone to be more thoroughly good-natured, or more determined to be happy than Mrs. Palmer. The studied indifference, insolence, and discontent of her husband gave
her no pain; and when he scolded or abused her, she was highly diverted.

“Mr. Palmer is so droll!” said she, in a whisper, to Elinor, as Mr. Palmer shook his head at the abject meaningless of all around him. “He is always out of humour.”

Elinor was not inclined, despite Sir John’s explanation for Mr. Palmer’s world-weariness, to give him credit for being so genuinely and unaffectedly ill-natured as he wished to appear. His temper might perhaps be a little soured by finding, like many others of his sex that he was the husband of a very silly woman, though one he himself had chosen to abduct, out of many possible concubines, from her native village.

“Oh, my dear Miss Dashwood,” said Mrs. Palmer soon afterwards, “I have got such a favour to ask of you and your sister. Will you come to us this Christmas? Now, pray do—and come while the Westons are with us. My love,” applying to her husband, “don’t you long to have the Miss Dashwoods visit?”

“Certainly,” he replied, with a sneer. “I came into Devonshire with no other view.”

“There now,” said his lady. “You see Mr. Palmer expects you; so you cannot refuse to come.”

They both eagerly and resolutely declined her invitation.

“But indeed you must and shall come. I am sure you will like it of all things. The Westons will be with us, and it will be quite delightful.”

Elinor was again obliged to decline her invitation; and by changing the subject to the giant tuna that had lately tried to consume her mother, put a stop to her entreaties. She thought it probable that as they lived in the same county, Mrs. Palmer might be able to give some account of Willoughby’s general character. She began by inquiring if they were intimately acquainted with him.

“Oh dear, yes; I know him extremely well,” replied Mrs. Palmer. “Not that I ever spoke to him, indeed; but I have seen him forever in town. Somehow or other I never happened to be staying on the Devonshire coast while he was on Allenham Isle. However, I dare say we
should have seen a great deal of him in Somersetshire, if it had not happened very unluckily that we should never have been in the country together. He is very little at Combe, I believe; but if he were ever so much there, I do not think Mr. Palmer would visit him, for it such a way off, and Mr. Palmer despises all of humanity. I know why you inquire about him, very well; your sister is to marry him.”

“Upon my word,” replied Elinor, “you know much more of the matter than I do, if you have any reason to expect such a match.”

“Don’t pretend to deny it, because you know it is what everybody talks of. I assure you I heard of it in my way here.”

“My dear Mrs. Palmer!”

“Upon my honour I did. I met Colonel Brandon Monday morning on Bond Causeway, just before we left the Sub-Station, and he told me of it directly.”

“You surprise me very much. Colonel Brandon tell you of it! Surely you must be mistaken. To give such intelligence, even if it were true, is not what I should expect Colonel Brandon to do.”

“But I do assure you it was so. When we met him, we began talking of my brother and sister, and one thing and another, and I said to him, ‘So, Colonel, there is a new family come to Barton Cottage, I hear, and Mama sends me word they are very pretty, and that one of them is going to be married to Mr. Willoughby of Combe Magna. Is it true, pray?’”

“And what did the colonel say?”

“Oh, he did not say much. He just sort of gibbered and moaned, as he does sometimes helplessly, as you know. But he looked as if he knew it to be true, so from that moment I set it down as certain.”

“Colonel Brandon was very well, I hope?”

“Yes, quite well, and so full of your praises. He did nothing but say fine things of you, the pitiable creature.”

“I am flattered by his commendation. He seems an excellent man; and I think him uncommonly pleasing, at least so far as his manner, his physical nature being another matter entirely.”

“So do I. It is quite a shame he should be so afflicted by the sea witch’s curse. Mama says
he
was in love with your sister too. I assure you it was a great compliment if he was, for he hardly ever falls in love with anybody.”

“Is Mr. Willoughby much known in your part of Somersetshire?” said Elinor.

“I do not believe many people are acquainted with him, because Combe Magna is so far off, but they all think him extremely agreeable I assure you. He cuts quite a figure, as you know, with his otter-skin hat and flipper feet and orangutan valet. Nobody is more liked than Mr. Willoughby wherever he goes, and so you may tell your sister. She is a monstrous lucky girl to get him, upon my honour, and he in getting her, because she is so very handsome and agreeable.” Mrs. Palmer’s information respecting Willoughby was not very material; but any testimony in his favour, however small, was pleasing to her.