Expectations of Happiness Read Free

Edward, adding that Mr Palmer was being very useful and appeared to have everything in hand. “He seems such an odd sort of fellow, yet he is clearly a man of practical common sense and good understanding,” he said.
    â€œHe certainly is,” replied Elinor, who recalled well and recounted for her husband and mother the kindness of Mr Palmer, when Marianne had lain gravely ill at Cleveland House and only Mr Palmer had offered to stay and support Elinor until her mother arrived to help nurse the patient. “He was most kind, and I confess I was surprised, because we had grown accustomed to regarding him as withdrawn and proud, but when it mattered most, he was none of those things.”
    When Mrs Dashwood added her own recent experience, Elinor felt obliged to remark that Mr Palmer’s reputation had probably suffered more as a consequence of his marriage to a silly woman like Charlotte, whose incessant prattling drove him to distraction, than any evidence of ill nature on his part.
    At this the ladies laughed, but as the Reverend Edward Ferrars saw it, this was another example of why one should not leap to conclusions about people’s characters—whether for good or ill; but he did not get far with his homily, because there was a knock at the door and the maid opened it to admit none other than Mr Palmer himself.
    Silenced by surprise at seeing him and the coincidence of his arrival at that very moment, in the middle of their conversation about him, they were barely able to greet Mr Palmer, until Edward invited him into the sitting room. Clearly, he had walked from the manor house.
    Mrs Dashwood rushed away to order tea. Edward stood beside the fireplace and Elinor sat facing their visitor, quite unable to comprehend the reason for his visit. Not in all the years that the Dashwoods had lived at Barton Cottage had Mr Palmer visited them on his own. What had brought him there that night? As he sat rather awkwardly in a high-backed chair by the fire, the chair that used to be her father’s, Elinor wondered what had happened at Barton Park to cause him to call on them in this way.
    It was after several minutes, and only when Mrs Dashwood returned and the maid bearing the tea tray had set it down and left the room, closing the door behind her, that he seemed sufficiently comfortable to explain his visit. He had come to ask a favour, he said, clearly speaking with great reluctance. His wife, Mrs Palmer, was so bereft at the sudden death of her sister, she had been unable to rise from her bed, much less come downstairs and attend to the normal matters of the household, and as for his mother-in-law, Mrs Jennings, she was in no fit state to be of any assistance to Sir John. He wondered if Mrs Dashwood could be prevailed upon, adding rather lamely, “I am very reluctant to ask you, ma’am, since it must surely appear unreasonable to expect that you—”
    But before he could conclude his sentence, Mrs Dashwood had risen and offered to go with him directly to Barton Park.
    â€œMr Palmer, pray do not say another word; of course I am willing to help. Hasn’t Sir John been kindness itself to me and my daughters when we needed help, and have we not enjoyed the hospitality of Sir John and Lady Middleton on occasions too numerous to mention? Why would I not be ready to offer help at such a time as this? Elinor and Edward are here and they can attend to matters at the cottage. I can be ready in an hour.” Mr Palmer’s expression was instantly transformed from one of grim austerity to pleasant relief as he thanked both mother and daughter for their generosity, twice over, before declaring that he would send the carriage to transport Mrs Dashwood and her things to Barton Park—within the hour.
    He finished his tea and left soon afterward, and Mrs Dashwood rushed upstairs to pack her things, leaving Elinor and Edward shaking their heads at the strange turn of events. It had been an