Elinor, smiling at the grave and decisive importance of her brother’s tone, calmly replied—
“The lady, I suppose, has no choice in the affair.”
“Choice! how do you mean?”
“I only mean that I suppose, from your manner of speaking, it must be the same to Miss Morton whether she marry Edward or Robert.”
“Certainly, there can be no difference; for Robert will now to all intents and purposes be considered as the eldest son; and as to anything else, they are both very agreeable young men: I do not know that one is superior to the other.”
Elinor said no more, and John was also for a short time silent. His reflections ended thus:—
“Of one thing, my dear sister,” kindly taking her hand, and speaking in an awful whisper, “I may assure you;—and I will do it, because I know it must gratify you. I have good reason to think—indeed I have it from the best authority, or I should not repeat it, for otherwise it would be very wrong to say anything about it—but I have it from the very best