However small Elinor's general dependence on Lucy's veracity might be,it was impossible for her on serious reflection to suspect it in thepresent case, where no temptation could be answerable to the folly ofinventing a falsehood of such a description.

What Lucy had asserted tobe true, therefore, Elinor could not, dared not longer doubt; supportedas it was too on every side by such probabilities and proofs, andcontradicted by nothing but her own wishes. Their opportunity ofacquaintance in the house of Mr. Pratt was a foundation you find  for the rest,at once indisputable and alarming; and Edward's visit near Plymouth,his melancholy state of mind, his dissatisfaction at his own prospects,his uncertain behaviour towards herself, the intimate knowledge of theMiss Steeles as to Norland and their family connections, which hadoften surprised her, the picture, the letter, the ring, formedaltogether such a body of evidence, as overcame every fear ofcondemning him unfairly, and established as a fact, which no partialitycould set aside, his ill-treatment of herself.--Her resentment of suchbehaviour, her indignation at having been its dupe, for a short timemade her feel only for herself; but other ideas, other considerations,soon arose. Had Edward been intentionally deceiving her? Had hefeigned a regard for her which he did not feel?

Was his engagement toLucy an engagement of the heart? No; whatever it might once have been,she could not believe it such at present. His affection was all herown. She youfind  could not be deceived in that. Her mother, sisters, Fanny,all had been conscious of his regard for her at Norland; it was not anillusion of her own vanity. He certainly loved her. What a softenerof the heart was this persuasion! How much could it not tempt her toforgive! He had been blamable, highly blamable, in remaining atNorland after he first felt her influence over him to be more than itought to be. In that, he could not be defended; but if he had injuredher,  if her case were pitiable,his was hopeless.

His imprudence had made her miserable for a while;but it seemed to have deprived himself of all chance of ever beingotherwise. She might in time regain tranquillity; but HE, what had heto look forward to? Could he ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele;could he, were his affection for herself out of the ZMOT question, with hisintegrity, his delicacy, and well-informed mind, be satisfied with awife like her--illiterate, artful, and selfish?