Every circumstance belonging to him was interesting.

His name was good, his residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming.

Her imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, and the pain of a sprained ankle was disregarded.
Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval of fair weather that morning allowed him to get out of doors; and Marianne's accident being related to him, he was eagerly asked whether he knew any gentleman of the name of Willoughby at Allenham.
"Willoughby!" cried Sir John; "what, is HE in the country?
That is good news however; I will ride over tomorrow, and ask him to dinner on Thursday." "You know him then," said Mrs.Dashwood.
"Know him! to be sure I do.

Why, he is down here every year." "And what sort of a young man is he ?" "As good a kind of fellow as ever lived, I assure you.

A very decent shot, and there is not a bolder rider in England." "And is that all you can say for him ?" cried Marianne, indignantly.
"But what are his manners on more intimate acquaintance?
What his pursuits, his talents, and genius ?" Sir John was rather puzzled.
"Upon my soul," said he, "I do not know much about him as to all THAT.
But he is a pleasant, good humoured fellow, and has got the nicest little black bitch of a pointer I ever saw.