He stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it
was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear more;
and she trembled in expectation of it. But--it was
NOT Colonel Brandon--neither his air--nor his height.
Were it possible, she must say it must be Edward.
She looked again. He had just dismounted;--she could not be
mistaken,--it WAS Edward. She moved away and sat down.
"He comes from Mr. Pratt's purposely to see us. I WILL be
calm; I WILL be mistress of myself."
In a moment she perceived that the others were likewise
aware of the mistake. She saw her mother and Marianne
change colour; saw them look at herself, and whisper
a few sentences to each other. She would have given
the world to be able to speak--and to make them understand
that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear
in their behaviour to him;--but she had no utterance,
and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion.
Not a syllable passed aloud. They all waited
in silence for the appearance of their visitor.
His footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment
he was in the passage, and in another he was before them.
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