Tell this story
Rewrite the ending of your favorite book.
It's not my favorite book, but it's the one ending to a book I wish was different. He's my quite attempt at a rewrite of the last chapter of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility.
After a proper resistance on the part of Mrs. Ferrars, just so violent and so steady as to preserve her from that reproach which she always seemed fearful of incurring, the reproach of being too amiable, Edward was admitted to her presence, and pronounced to be again her son.
Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. For many years of her life she had had two sons; but the crime and annihilation of Edward a few weeks ago, had robbed her of one; the similar annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any; and now, by the resuscitation of Edward, she had one again.
In spite of his being allowed once more to live, however, he did not feel the continuance of his existence secure, till he had revealed his present engagement; for the publication of that circumstance, he feared, might give a sudden turn to his constitution, and carry him off as rapidly as before. With apprehensive caution therefore it was revealed, and he was listened to with unexpected calmness. Mrs. Ferrars endeavoured to dissuade him from marrying Miss Dashwood, by every argument in her power;—told him, that in Miss Morton he would have a woman of higher rank and larger fortune;—and enforced the assertion, by observing that Miss Morton was the daughter of a nobleman with thirty thousand pounds, while Miss Dashwood was only the daughter of a private gentleman with no more than THREE; but when Edward found that, though perfectly admitting the truth of his feelings, his mother was by no means inclined to be guided by it, he judged it wisest, from the experience of the past, to submit—and therefore, after such an ungracious delay as he owed to his own dignity, and as served to prevent every suspicion of good-will, he issued his decree of consent and married Miss Morton.
Elinor's failed engagement meant she spent much time with her family. Mrs. Dashwood wish of bringing Elinor and Colonel Brandon together was hardly less earnest. It was now her darling object. Precious as was the company of her daughter to her, she desired nothing so much as to give up its constant enjoyment to her valued friend; and to see Elinor settled at the mansion-house was equally the wish of Marianne and Margaret. They each felt his sorrows, and their own obligations, and Elinor, by general consent, was to be the reward of all.
With such a confederacy against her—with a knowledge so intimate of his goodness—with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself, which at last, though long after it was observable to everybody else—burst on her—what could she do?
Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, believed he deserved to be;—in Elinor he was consoled for every past affliction;—her regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Elinor found her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend.
Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favourite maxims. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting, — she found herself at nineteen remaining with her mother, and finding her only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm and sober judgment she had determined on. It would be a few years more until Marianne would find a young man who would take her away from her mother’s cottage.
Mrs. Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage, and fortunately for Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken from them in her retirement, Margaret had reached an age highly suitable for dancing, and not very ineligible for being supposed to have a lover.
Between the women, there was that constant communication which strong family affection would naturally dictate;—and among the merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked as the least considerable, that though sisters, they could live without disagreement between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands.