Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so much beloved. “Dear， dear Norland！” said Marianne， as she wandered alone before the house， on the last evening of their being there；“when shall I cease to regret you！—when learn to feel a home elsewhere！—Oh！ happy house， could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot， from whence perhaps I may view you no more！—And you， ye well-known trees！—but you will continue the same.—No leaf will decay because we are removed， nor any branch become motionless although we can observe you no longer！—No； you will continue the same；unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion， and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade！—But who will remain to enjoy you？”
CHAPTER VI
he first part of their journey was performed in toomelancholy a disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant. But as they drew towards the end of it， their interest in the appearance of a country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection， and a view of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. It was a pleasant fertile spot， well wooded， and rich in pasture. After winding along it for more than a mile， they reached their own house. A small green court was the whole of its demesne in front； and a neat wicket gate admitted them into it.
As a house， Barton Cottage， though small， was comfortable and compact； but as a cottage it was defective， for the building was regular， the roof was tiled， the window shutters were not painted green， nor were the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly through the house into the garden behind. On each side of the entrance was a sitting room， about sixteen feet square； and beyond them were the offices and the stairs. Four bed-rooms and two garrets formed the rest of the house. It had not been built many years and was in good repair. In comparison of Norland， it was poor and small indeed！—but the tears which recollection called forth as they entered the house were soon dried away. They were cheered by the joy of the servants on their arrival， and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear happy. It was very early in September； the season was fine， and from first seeing the place under the advantage of good weather， they received an impression in its favour which was of material service in recommending it to their lasting approbation.
The situation of the house was good. High hills rose immediately behind， and at no great distance on each side； some of which were open downs， the others cultivated and woody. The village of Barton was chiefly on one of these hills， and formed a pleasant view from the cottage windows. The prospect in front was more extensive； it commanded the whole of the valley， and reached into the country beyond. The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated the valley in that direction； under another name， and in another course， it branched out again between two of the steepest of them.
With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. Dashwood was upon the whole well satisfied； for though her former style of life rendered many additions to the latter indispensable， yet to add and improve was a delight to her； and she had at this time ready money enough to supply all that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments. “As for the house itself， to be sure，” said she， “it is too small for our family， but we will make ourselves tolerably comfortable for the present， as it is too late in the year for improvements. Perhaps in the spring， if I have plenty of money， as I dare say I shall， we may think about building. These parlours are both too small for such parties of our friends as I hope to see often collected here； and I have some thoughts of throwing the passage into one of them with perhaps a part of the other， and so leave the remainder of that other for an entrance； this， with a new drawing room which may be easily added， and a bed-chamber and garret above， will make it a very snug little cottage. I could wish the stairs were handsome. But one must not expect every thing； though I suppose it would be no difficult matter to widen them. I shall see how much I am before-hand with the world in the spring， and we will plan our improvements accordingly.”
In the mean time， till all these alterations could be made from the savings of an income of five hundred a-year by a woman who never saved in her life， they were wise enough to be contented with the house as it was； and each of them was busy in arranging their particular concerns， and endeavouring， by placing around them books and other possessions， to form themselves a home. Marianne’s pianoforté was unpacked and properly disposed of；and Elinor’s drawings were affixed to the walls of their sitting room.
