“You would not have gone， however，” said Elinor， recovering herself， and determined to get over what she so much dreaded as soon as possible， “without receiving our good wishes， even if we had not been able to give them in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she said. I have something of consequence to inform you of， which I was on the point of communicating by paper. I am charged with a most agreeable office (breathing rather faster than usual as she spoke.) Colonel Brandon， who was here only ten minutes ago， has desired me to say， that understanding you mean to take orders， he has great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford now just vacant， and only wishes it were more valuable. Allow me to congratulate you on having so respectable and well-judging a friend， and to join in his wish that the living—it is about two hundred a-year—were much more considerable， and such as might better enable you to—as might be more than a temporary accommodation to yourself—such， in short， as might establish all your views of happiness.”
What Edward felt， as he could not say it himself， it cannot be expected that any one else should say for him. He looked all the astonishment which such unexpected， such unthought-of information could not fail of exciting； but he said only these two words，
“Colonel Brandon！”
“Yes，” continued Elinor， gathering more resolution， as some of the worst was over， “Colonel Brandon means it as a testimony of his concern for what has lately passed—for the cruel situation in which the unjustifiable conduct of your family has placed you—a concern which I am sure Marianne， myself， and all your friends， must share； and likewise as a proof of his high esteem for your general character， and his particular approbation of your behaviour on the present occasion.”
“Colonel Brandon give me a living！—Can it be possible？”
“The unkindness of your own relations has made you astonished to find friendship any where.”
“No，” replied be， with sudden consciousness， “not to find it in you； for I cannot be ignorant that to you， to your goodness， I owe it all.—I feel it—I would express it if I could—but， as you well know， I am no orator.”