feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/shmoop/Sense and Sensibility/section_42_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: Sense and Sensibility.chapter 43
feat_summary_id: chapter 43
feat_summary: {"name": "Chapter 43", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210421140324/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/sense-and-sensibility/summary/chapter-43", "summary": "Marianne gets up the morning and tries to act like she's OK, but she's clearly still really sick. Elinor nurses her calmly, but Colonel Brandon is worried. After another night of illness, Elinor, following Mrs. Jennings's advice, calls the Palmers' doctor. He examines the patient, and says that she should recover from her \"infection\" in a few days. This freaks out Mrs. Palmer for her baby's sake, though, and she and the baby go to stay with a relative for a while, just to be safe. Mr. Palmer is set to join her in a couple of days. Mrs. Jennings, however, staunchly says that she will stay with Marianne and Elinor until Marianne is better again. Elinor finds her very helpful. Marianne doesn't get any better, but fortunately doesn't get too much worse. However, her illness lasts long enough for Mr. Palmer to have to leave to meet up with his wife, as promised. Colonel Brandon also wonders if he should leave, but he's encouraged to remain by Mr. Palmer and Mrs. Jennings. Two more days pass, and Marianne doesn't mend. Colonel Brandon is extremely worried - he's obviously still in love with her. On the third day, Marianne seems better - but she gets even sicker as evening falls. That night, Marianne is at her worst; she's clearly delirious, and asks for her mother to come. Colonel Brandon goes immediately to Barton to fetch Mrs. Dashwood. Things aren't looking good for Marianne. That morning, Mrs. Jennings awakes to find out that everything has grown worse. She feels incredibly bad for everyone - she's truly concerned about Marianne herself, Elinor, and Mrs. Dashwood. The doctor, Mr. Harris, returns to check on his ailing patient. His medicines didn't work, but he has one last thing to try. This desperate, last-ditch solution, whatever it may be, seems to work; Marianne revives somewhat, and Elinor, despite Mrs. Jennings's advice to be prudent, feels hopeful. By that afternoon, she seems much better, and the doctor says she's out of danger. Mrs. Jennings cheers up instantly, but Elinor can't - she's relieved and full of gratitude, but she can't express it. Instead, she stays with Marianne all afternoon, calming down. That evening, Elinor awaits the arrival of her mother and Colonel Brandon, who are expected around ten o'clock that night. A carriage pulls up around eight instead - and in it is Willoughby!", "analysis": ""}
text: 
  
  Marianne got up the next morning at her usual time; to every inquiry
  replied that she was better, and tried to prove herself so, by engaging
  in her accustomary employments.  But a day spent in sitting shivering
  over the fire with a book in her hand, which she was unable to read, or
  in lying, weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak much in favour of
  her amendment; and when, at last, she went early to bed, more and more
  indisposed, Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her sister's
  composure, who, though attending and nursing her the whole day, against
  Marianne's inclination, and forcing proper medicines on her at night,
  trusted, like Marianne, to the certainty and efficacy of sleep, and
  felt no real alarm.
  
  A very restless and feverish night, however, disappointed the
  expectation of both; and when Marianne, after persisting in rising,
  confessed herself unable to sit up, and returned voluntarily to her
  bed, Elinor was very ready to adopt Mrs. Jennings's advice, of sending
  for the Palmers' apothecary.
  
  He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging Miss Dashwood to
  expect that a very few days would restore her sister to health, yet, by
  pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid tendency, and allowing the
  word "infection" to pass his lips, gave instant alarm to Mrs. Palmer,
  on her baby's account.  Mrs. Jennings, who had been inclined from the
  first to think Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor, now
  looked very grave on Mr. Harris's report, and confirming Charlotte's
  fears and caution, urged the necessity of her immediate removal with
  her infant; and Mr. Palmer, though treating their apprehensions as
  idle, found the anxiety and importunity of his wife too great to be
  withstood.  Her departure, therefore, was fixed on; and within an hour
  after Mr. Harris's arrival, she set off, with her little boy and his
  nurse, for the house of a near relation of Mr. Palmer's, who lived a
  few miles on the other side of Bath; whither her husband promised, at
  her earnest entreaty, to join her in a day or two; and whither she was
  almost equally urgent with her mother to accompany her.  Mrs. Jennings,
  however, with a kindness of heart which made Elinor really love her,
  declared her resolution of not stirring from Cleveland as long as
  Marianne remained ill, and of endeavouring, by her own attentive care,
  to supply to her the place of the mother she had taken her from; and
  Elinor found her on every occasion a most willing and active helpmate,
  desirous to share in all her fatigues, and often by her better
  experience in nursing, of material use.
  
  Poor Marianne, languid and low from the nature of her malady, and
  feeling herself universally ill, could no longer hope that tomorrow
  would find her recovered; and the idea of what tomorrow would have
  produced, but for this unlucky illness, made every ailment severe; for
  on that day they were to have begun their journey home; and, attended
  the whole way by a servant of Mrs. Jennings, were to have taken their
  mother by surprise on the following forenoon.  The little she said was
  all in lamentation of this inevitable delay; though Elinor tried to
  raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she THEN really believed
  herself, that it would be a very short one.
  
  The next day produced little or no alteration in the state of the
  patient; she certainly was not better, and, except that there was no
  amendment, did not appear worse.  Their party was now farther reduced;
  for Mr. Palmer, though very unwilling to go as well from real humanity
  and good-nature, as from a dislike of appearing to be frightened away
  by his wife, was persuaded at last by Colonel Brandon to perform his
  promise of following her; and while he was preparing to go, Colonel
  Brandon himself, with a much greater exertion, began to talk of going
  likewise.--Here, however, the kindness of Mrs. Jennings interposed most
  acceptably; for to send the Colonel away while his love was in so much
  uneasiness on her sister's account, would be to deprive them both, she
  thought, of every comfort; and therefore telling him at once that his
  stay at Cleveland was necessary to herself, that she should want him to
  play at piquet of an evening, while Miss Dashwood was above with her
  sister, &c. she urged him so strongly to remain, that he, who was
  gratifying the first wish of his own heart by a compliance, could not
  long even affect to demur; especially as Mrs. Jennings's entreaty was
  warmly seconded by Mr. Palmer, who seemed to feel a relief to himself,
  in leaving behind him a person so well able to assist or advise Miss
  Dashwood in any emergence.
  
  Marianne was, of course, kept in ignorance of all these arrangements.
  She knew not that she had been the means of sending the owners of
  Cleveland away, in about seven days from the time of their arrival.  It
  gave her no surprise that she saw nothing of Mrs. Palmer; and as it
  gave her likewise no concern, she never mentioned her name.
  
  Two days passed away from the time of Mr. Palmer's departure, and her
  situation continued, with little variation, the same.  Mr. Harris, who
  attended her every day, still talked boldly of a speedy recovery, and
  Miss Dashwood was equally sanguine; but the expectation of the others
  was by no means so cheerful.  Mrs. Jennings had determined very early
  in the seizure that Marianne would never get over it, and Colonel
  Brandon, who was chiefly of use in listening to Mrs. Jennings's
  forebodings, was not in a state of mind to resist their influence.  He
  tried to reason himself out of fears, which the different judgment of
  the apothecary seemed to render absurd; but the many hours of each day
  in which he was left entirely alone, were but too favourable for the
  admission of every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from his
  mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more.
  
  On the morning of the third day however, the gloomy anticipations of
  both were almost done away; for when Mr. Harris arrived, he declared
  his patient materially better.  Her pulse was much stronger, and every
  symptom more favourable than on the preceding visit.  Elinor, confirmed
  in every pleasant hope, was all cheerfulness; rejoicing that in her
  letters to her mother, she had pursued her own judgment rather than her
  friend's, in making very light of the indisposition which delayed them
  at Cleveland; and almost fixing on the time when Marianne would be able
  to travel.
  
  But the day did not close so auspiciously as it began.-- Towards the
  evening Marianne became ill again, growing more heavy, restless, and
  uncomfortable than before.  Her sister, however, still sanguine, was
  willing to attribute the change to nothing more than the fatigue of
  having sat up to have her bed made; and carefully administering the
  cordials prescribed, saw her, with satisfaction, sink at last into a
  slumber, from which she expected the most beneficial effects.  Her
  sleep, though not so quiet as Elinor wished to see it, lasted a
  considerable time; and anxious to observe the result of it herself, she
  resolved to sit with her during the whole of it.  Mrs. Jennings,
  knowing nothing of any change in the patient, went unusually early to
  bed; her maid, who was one of the principal nurses, was recreating
  herself in the housekeeper's room, and Elinor remained alone with
  Marianne.
  
  The repose of the latter became more and more disturbed; and her
  sister, who watched, with unremitting attention her continual change of
  posture, and heard the frequent but inarticulate sounds of complaint
  which passed her lips, was almost wishing to rouse her from so painful
  a slumber, when Marianne, suddenly awakened by some accidental noise in
  the house, started hastily up, and, with feverish wildness, cried out,--
  
  "Is mama coming?--"
  
  "Not yet," cried the other, concealing her terror, and assisting
  Marianne to lie down again, "but she will be here, I hope, before it is
  long.  It is a great way, you know, from hence to Barton."
  
  "But she must not go round by London," cried Marianne, in the same
  hurried manner.  "I shall never see her, if she goes by London."
  
  Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not quite herself, and, while
  attempting to soothe her, eagerly felt her pulse.  It was lower and
  quicker than ever!  and Marianne, still talking wildly of mama, her
  alarm increased so rapidly, as to determine her on sending instantly
  for Mr. Harris, and despatching a messenger to Barton for her mother.
  To consult with Colonel Brandon on the best means of effecting the
  latter, was a thought which immediately followed the resolution of its
  performance; and as soon she had rung up the maid to take her place by
  her sister, she hastened down to the drawing-room, where she knew he
  was generally to be found at a much later hour than the present.
  
  It was no time for hesitation.  Her fears and her difficulties were
  immediately before him.  Her fears, he had no courage, no confidence to
  attempt the removal of:--he listened to them in silent despondence;--but
  her difficulties were instantly obviated, for with a readiness that
  seemed to speak the occasion, and the service pre-arranged in his mind,
  he offered himself as the messenger who should fetch Mrs. Dashwood.
  Elinor made no resistance that was not easily overcome. She thanked him
  with brief, though fervent gratitude, and while he went to hurry off his
  servant with a message to Mr. Harris, and an order for post-horses
  directly, she wrote a few lines to her mother.
  
  The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel Brandon--or such
  a companion for her mother,--how gratefully was it felt!--a companion
  whose judgment would guide, whose attendance must relieve, and whose
  friendship might soothe her!--as far as the shock of such a summons
  COULD be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his assistance,
  would lessen it.
  
  HE, meanwhile, whatever he might feel, acted with all the firmness of a
  collected mind, made every necessary arrangement with the utmost
  despatch, and calculated with exactness the time in which she might
  look for his return.  Not a moment was lost in delay of any kind.  The
  horses arrived, even before they were expected, and Colonel Brandon
  only pressing her hand with a look of solemnity, and a few words spoken
  too low to reach her ear, hurried into the carriage.  It was then about
  twelve o'clock, and she returned to her sister's apartment to wait for
  the arrival of the apothecary, and to watch by her the rest of the
  night.  It was a night of almost equal suffering to both.  Hour after
  hour passed away in sleepless pain and delirium on Marianne's side, and
  in the most cruel anxiety on Elinor's, before Mr. Harris appeared.  Her
  apprehensions once raised, paid by their excess for all her former
  security; and the servant who sat up with her, for she would not allow
  Mrs. Jennings to be called, only tortured her more, by hints of what
  her mistress had always thought.
  
  Marianne's ideas were still, at intervals, fixed incoherently on her
  mother, and whenever she mentioned her name, it gave a pang to the
  heart of poor Elinor, who, reproaching herself for having trifled with
  so many days of illness, and wretched for some immediate relief,
  fancied that all relief might soon be in vain, that every thing had
  been delayed too long, and pictured to herself her suffering mother
  arriving too late to see this darling child, or to see her rational.
  
  She was on the point of sending again for Mr. Harris, or if HE could
  not come, for some other advice, when the former--but not till after
  five o'clock--arrived.  His opinion, however, made some little amends
  for his delay, for though acknowledging a very unexpected and
  unpleasant alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger to
  be material, and talked of the relief which a fresh mode of treatment
  must procure, with a confidence which, in a lesser degree, was
  communicated to Elinor.  He promised to call again in the course of
  three or four hours, and left both the patient and her anxious
  attendant more composed than he had found them.
  
  With strong concern, and with many reproaches for not being called to
  their aid, did Mrs. Jennings hear in the morning of what had passed.
  Her former apprehensions, now with greater reason restored, left her no
  doubt of the event; and though trying to speak comfort to Elinor, her
  conviction of her sister's danger would not allow her to offer the
  comfort of hope.  Her heart was really grieved.  The rapid decay, the
  early death of a girl so young, so lovely as Marianne, must have struck
  a less interested person with concern.  On Mrs. Jennings's compassion
  she had other claims.  She had been for three months her companion, was
  still under her care, and she was known to have been greatly injured,
  and long unhappy.  The distress of her sister too, particularly a
  favourite, was before her;--and as for their mother, when Mrs. Jennings
  considered that Marianne might probably be to HER what Charlotte was to
  herself, her sympathy in HER sufferings was very sincere.
  
  Mr. Harris was punctual in his second visit;--but he came to be
  disappointed in his hopes of what the last would produce.  His
  medicines had failed;--the fever was unabated; and Marianne only more
  quiet--not more herself--remained in a heavy stupor.  Elinor, catching
  all, and more than all, his fears in a moment, proposed to call in
  further advice.  But he judged it unnecessary: he had still something
  more to try, some more fresh application, of whose success he was as
  confident as the last, and his visit concluded with encouraging
  assurances which reached the ear, but could not enter the heart of Miss
  Dashwood.  She was calm, except when she thought of her mother; but she
  was almost hopeless; and in this state she continued till noon,
  scarcely stirring from her sister's bed, her thoughts wandering from
  one image of grief, one suffering friend to another, and her spirits
  oppressed to the utmost by the conversation of Mrs. Jennings, who
  scrupled not to attribute the severity and danger of this attack to the
  many weeks of previous indisposition which Marianne's disappointment
  had brought on.  Elinor felt all the reasonableness of the idea, and it
  gave fresh misery to her reflections.
  
  About noon, however, she began--but with a caution--a dread of
  disappointment which for some time kept her silent, even to her
  friend--to fancy, to hope she could perceive a slight amendment in her
  sister's pulse;--she waited, watched, and examined it again and
  again;--and at last, with an agitation more difficult to bury under
  exterior calmness, than all her foregoing distress, ventured to
  communicate her hopes.  Mrs. Jennings, though forced, on examination,
  to acknowledge a temporary revival, tried to keep her young friend from
  indulging a thought of its continuance;--and Elinor, conning over every
  injunction of distrust, told herself likewise not to hope.  But it was
  too late.  Hope had already entered; and feeling all its anxious
  flutter, she bent over her sister to watch--she hardly knew for what.
  Half an hour passed away, and the favourable symptom yet blessed her.
  Others even arose to confirm it.  Her breath, her skin, her lips, all
  flattered Elinor with signs of amendment; and Marianne fixed her eyes
  on her with a rational, though languid, gaze.  Anxiety and hope now
  oppressed her in equal degrees, and left her no moment of tranquillity
  till the arrival of Mr. Harris at four o'clock;--when his assurances,
  his felicitations on a recovery in her sister even surpassing his
  expectation, gave her confidence, comfort, and tears of joy.
  
  Marianne was in every respect materially better, and he declared her
  entirely out of danger.  Mrs. Jennings, perhaps satisfied with the
  partial justification of her forebodings which had been found in their
  late alarm, allowed herself to trust in his judgment, and admitted,
  with unfeigned joy, and soon with unequivocal cheerfulness, the
  probability of an entire recovery.
  
  Elinor could not be cheerful.  Her joy was of a different kind, and led
  to any thing rather than to gaiety.  Marianne restored to life, health,
  friends, and to her doting mother, was an idea to fill her heart with
  sensations of exquisite comfort, and expand it in fervent
  gratitude;--but it led to no outward demonstrations of joy, no words,
  no smiles.  All within Elinor's breast was satisfaction, silent and
  strong.
  
  She continued by the side of her sister, with little intermission the
  whole afternoon, calming every fear, satisfying every inquiry of her
  enfeebled spirits, supplying every succour, and watching almost every
  look and every breath.  The possibility of a relapse would of course,
  in some moments, occur to remind her of what anxiety was--but when she
  saw, on her frequent and minute examination, that every symptom of
  recovery continued, and saw Marianne at six o'clock sink into a quiet,
  steady, and to all appearance comfortable, sleep, she silenced every
  doubt.
  
  The time was now drawing on, when Colonel Brandon might be expected
  back.  At ten o'clock, she trusted, or at least not much later her
  mother would be relieved from the dreadful suspense in which she must
  now be travelling towards them.  The Colonel, too!--perhaps scarcely
  less an object of pity!--Oh!--how slow was the progress of time which
  yet kept them in ignorance!
  
  At seven o'clock, leaving Marianne still sweetly asleep, she joined
  Mrs. Jennings in the drawing-room to tea.  Of breakfast she had been
  kept by her fears, and of dinner by their sudden reverse, from eating
  much;--and the present refreshment, therefore, with such feelings of
  content as she brought to it, was particularly welcome.  Mrs. Jennings
  would have persuaded her, at its conclusion, to take some rest before
  her mother's arrival, and allow HER to take her place by Marianne; but
  Elinor had no sense of fatigue, no capability of sleep at that moment
  about her, and she was not to be kept away from her sister an
  unnecessary instant.  Mrs. Jennings therefore attending her up stairs
  into the sick chamber, to satisfy herself that all continued right,
  left her there again to her charge and her thoughts, and retired to her
  own room to write letters and sleep.
  
  The night was cold and stormy.  The wind roared round the house, and
  the rain beat against the windows; but Elinor, all happiness within,
  regarded it not.  Marianne slept through every blast; and the
  travellers--they had a rich reward in store, for every present
  inconvenience.
  
  The clock struck eight.  Had it been ten, Elinor would have been
  convinced that at that moment she heard a carriage driving up to the
  house; and so strong was the persuasion that she DID, in spite of the
  ALMOST impossibility of their being already come, that she moved into
  the adjoining dressing-closet and opened a window shutter, to be
  satisfied of the truth.  She instantly saw that her ears had not
  deceived her.  The flaring lamps of a carriage were immediately in
  view.  By their uncertain light she thought she could discern it to be
  drawn by four horses; and this, while it told the excess of her poor
  mother's alarm, gave some explanation to such unexpected rapidity.
  
  Never in her life had Elinor found it so difficult to be calm, as at
  that moment.  The knowledge of what her mother must be feeling as the
  carriage stopt at the door--of her doubt--her dread--perhaps her
  despair!--and of what SHE had to tell!--with such knowledge it was
  impossible to be calm.  All that remained to be done was to be speedy;
  and, therefore staying only till she could leave Mrs. Jennings's maid
  with her sister, she hurried down stairs.
  
  The bustle in the vestibule, as she passed along an inner lobby,
  assured her that they were already in the house.  She rushed to the
  drawing-room,--she entered it,--and saw only Willoughby.
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Chapter 43
target: Marianne gets up the morning and tries to act like she's OK, but she's clearly still really sick. Elinor nurses her calmly, but Colonel Brandon is worried. After another night of illness, Elinor, following Mrs. Jennings's advice, calls the Palmers' doctor. He examines the patient, and says that she should recover from her "infection" in a few days. This freaks out Mrs. Palmer for her baby's sake, though, and she and the baby go to stay with a relative for a while, just to be safe. Mr. Palmer is set to join her in a couple of days. Mrs. Jennings, however, staunchly says that she will stay with Marianne and Elinor until Marianne is better again. Elinor finds her very helpful. Marianne doesn't get any better, but fortunately doesn't get too much worse. However, her illness lasts long enough for Mr. Palmer to have to leave to meet up with his wife, as promised. Colonel Brandon also wonders if he should leave, but he's encouraged to remain by Mr. Palmer and Mrs. Jennings. Two more days pass, and Marianne doesn't mend. Colonel Brandon is extremely worried - he's obviously still in love with her. On the third day, Marianne seems better - but she gets even sicker as evening falls. That night, Marianne is at her worst; she's clearly delirious, and asks for her mother to come. Colonel Brandon goes immediately to Barton to fetch Mrs. Dashwood. Things aren't looking good for Marianne. That morning, Mrs. Jennings awakes to find out that everything has grown worse. She feels incredibly bad for everyone - she's truly concerned about Marianne herself, Elinor, and Mrs. Dashwood. The doctor, Mr. Harris, returns to check on his ailing patient. His medicines didn't work, but he has one last thing to try. This desperate, last-ditch solution, whatever it may be, seems to work; Marianne revives somewhat, and Elinor, despite Mrs. Jennings's advice to be prudent, feels hopeful. By that afternoon, she seems much better, and the doctor says she's out of danger. Mrs. Jennings cheers up instantly, but Elinor can't - she's relieved and full of gratitude, but she can't express it. Instead, she stays with Marianne all afternoon, calming down. That evening, Elinor awaits the arrival of her mother and Colonel Brandon, who are expected around ten o'clock that night. A carriage pulls up around eight instead - and in it is Willoughby!