heartlessness of his own conduct.

He then went on to explain his treatment of Marianne's letters; how he
had already--previous to the arrival of the Dashwoods in town--become
engaged to Miss Sophia Grey; how, with his head and heart full of
Marianne, he was forced to play the happy lover to Sophia; and how
Sophia, in her jealousy, had opened Marianne's third letter and dictated
the reply.

"What do you think of my wife's style of letter-writing? Delicate,
tender, fully feminine, was it not?" said he.

"You are very wrong, Mr. Willoughby," said Elinor. "You ought not to
speak in this way either of Mrs. Willoughby or my sister. You have made
your own choice. It was not forced on you. Your wife has a claim to your
politeness--to your respect, at least." She must be attached to you, or
she would not have married you."

"Do not talk to me of my wife," said he, with a heavy sigh. "She does
not deserve your compassion. She knew I had no regard for her when we
married. And now, do you pity me, Miss Dashwood? Have I explained away
any part of my guilt?"

"Yes. You have certainly removed something--a little," said Elinor. "You
have proved yourself, on the whole, less faulty than I had believed
you."

When Mrs. Dashwood arrived at Cleveland, Elinor at once gave her the
joyful news of Marianne's material improvement in health and, after an
affectionate but nearly silent interview had taken place between mother