said little but what was forced from him by questions,

and distinguished Elinor by no mark of affection.

Marianne saw and listened with increasing surprise.

She began almost to feel a dislike of Edward; and it ended,

as every feeling must end with her, by carrying back her

thoughts to Willoughby, whose manners formed a contrast

sufficiently striking to those of his brother elect.

After a short silence which succeeded the first

surprise and enquiries of meeting, Marianne asked

Edward if he came directly from London. No, he had

been in Devonshire a fortnight.

"A fortnight!" she repeated, surprised at his being

so long in the same county with Elinor without seeing

her before.

He looked rather distressed as he added, that he

had been staying with some friends near Plymouth.

"Have you been lately in Sussex?" said Elinor.

"I was at Norland about a month ago."

"And how does dear, dear Norland look?" cried Marianne.

"Dear, dear Norland," said Elinor, "probably looks

much as it always does at this time of the year.

The woods and walks thickly covered with dead leaves."

"Oh," cried Marianne, "with what transporting sensation

have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted,

as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me

by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air

altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them.

They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off,

and driven as much as possible from the sight."

"It is not every one," said Elinor, "who has your

passion for dead leaves."

"No; my feelings are not often shared, not often

understood. But SOMETIMES they are."--As she said this,

she sunk into a reverie for a few moments;--but rousing