Edward was， of course， immediately convinced that nothing could have been more natural than Lucy’s conduct， nor more self-evident than the motive of it.
Elinor scolded him， harshly as ladies always scold the imprudence which compliments themselves， for having spent so much time with them at Norland， when he must have felt his own inconstancy.
“Your behaviour was certainly very wrong，” said she；“because—to say nothing of my own conviction， our relations were all led away by it to fancy and expect what， as you were then situated， could never be.”
He could only plead an ignorance of his own heart， and a mistaken confidence in the force of his engagement.
“I was simple enough to think， that because my faith was plighted to another， there could be no danger in my being with you； and that the consciousness of my engagement was to keep my heart as safe and sacred as my honour. I felt that I admired you， but I told myself it was only friendship； and till I began to make comparisons between yourself and Lucy， I did not know how far I was got. After that， I suppose， I was wrong in remaining so much in Sussex， and the arguments with which I reconciled myself to the expediency of it， were no better than these：—The danger is my
own； I am doing no injury to anybody but myself.”
Elinor smiled， and shook her head.
Edward heard with pleasure of Colonel Brandon’s being expected at the Cottage， as he really wished not only to be better acquainted with him， but to have an opportunity of convincing him that he no longer resented his giving him the living of Delaford—“Which， at present，” said he， “after thanks so ungraciously delivered as mine were on the occasion， he must think I have never forgiven him for offering.”